The laws and legal systems of China and Russia
- Matthew Parish
- 4 minutes ago
- 5 min read

The legal systems of China and Russia share a common ancestry in authoritarian governance, codified law, and an uneasy relationship between political power and judicial independence. Yet, despite certain superficial similarities—both being continental powers with post-revolutionary legal traditions—their contemporary legal orders have evolved along distinct philosophical, institutional and practical lines. To understand these differences, one must examine their origins, political purposes and the practical operation of law within two of the world’s most formidable autocracies.
Historical and Ideological Foundations
Russia’s modern legal system emerged from the codifications of the late Tsarist era and the subsequent Soviet legal tradition, in which law was regarded primarily as an instrument of state policy rather than a constraint upon it. Soviet jurisprudence rejected the idea of an autonomous legal system governed by principles such as separation of powers or the rule of law. Instead, legality was subordinated to the directives of the Communist Party, which stood above the courts and legislature alike. After the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, the Russian Federation nominally adopted a liberal constitution, promising an independent judiciary, a hierarchy of courts and protection of human rights. Yet the political culture of executive dominance remained intact. Under Vladimir Putin, the law became again a tool of control: it serves to legitimise central authority, suppress dissent and regulate economic activity in a manner consistent with the Kremlin’s political objectives.
China’s legal evolution followed a somewhat parallel but more complex trajectory. After 1949, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) initially dismissed formal legal structures as bourgeois relics. During the Cultural Revolution, most courts ceased to function entirely. It was only in the late 1970s, under Deng Xiaoping’s reformist leadership, that China began rebuilding a legal system intended to support economic modernisation and foreign investment. The Chinese legal renaissance was thus technocratic rather than ideological. While the Party retained supremacy, it sought to govern through a framework of predictable legal norms—particularly in commercial and administrative matters—to ensure social stability and investor confidence. This has given China a more sophisticated and professional judiciary than Russia’s, albeit one firmly under Party control.
Institutional Structure and Judicial Independence
Formally, both countries possess hierarchies of courts culminating in supreme judicial organs: the Supreme People’s Court in China and the Supreme Court of the Russian Federation. Both also have constitutional courts empowered to review the legality of statutes and government actions. Yet their practical independence differs in tone and degree.
In Russia the judiciary is institutionally subservient to the executive branch. The President appoints judges, and their tenure depends upon the political favour of the Kremlin. The Constitutional Court, once a site of modest resistance in the 1990s, has been gradually neutralised. It now operates more as an instrument for providing legal justifications for executive decrees, such as the annexation of Crimea or the suppression of opposition media. Judges who issue rulings contrary to state interests are swiftly disciplined or dismissed. The result is a judiciary that preserves procedural formalities but functions as a political accessory rather than a genuine check upon authority.
In China, the subordination of courts is even more explicit but less arbitrary. The constitution itself declares the leadership of the Communist Party as the foundation of all governance. Judges are appointed through Party structures, and every significant case—particularly those involving politics, corruption, or social unrest—is subject to guidance by the Party’s Political and Legal Affairs Commission. Yet China’s courts exhibit a greater measure of predictability in civil and commercial matters. The Party has an interest in maintaining legal certainty to attract investment and encourage economic development. Thus Chinese courts may be politically dependent but procedurally competent, while Russian courts are politically dependent and often procedurally capricious.
Criminal Law and the Use of Coercion
The two states diverge sharply in their criminal law cultures. Russia’s criminal justice system retains many Soviet characteristics: the presumption of guilt, reliance upon confessions extracted through pressure or torture, and the dominance of the prosecution over the defence. The conviction rate exceeds 99 per cent, reflecting the extent to which trials serve as formal ratifications of police investigations rather than impartial determinations of fact. Criminal prosecutions are frequently weaponised for political purposes: opposition figures, journalists and business leaders who fall out of favour are targeted under charges of fraud, extremism or treason. The case of Mikhail Khodorkovsky, once Russia’s richest man, remains emblematic of how criminal law is used to eliminate political and economic rivals.
China’s criminal law, by contrast, operates within a more structured framework but is underpinned by the Party’s ideological priorities. The CCP exercises its own disciplinary jurisdiction through the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection (CCDI), which can detain Party members extrajudicially under “liuzhi” procedures which permit detention of Communist Party officials for up to eight months per suspected offence without access to legal counsel. Public trials often serve as instruments of political theatre, reinforcing Party authority through ritualised displays of confession and repentance. Nevertheless China has shown some willingness to refine criminal procedure, for instance by codifying evidentiary rules and limiting police custody periods. The problem is that these reforms remain subordinate to Party imperatives: the same apparatus that enforces them can suspend them whenever politically expedient.
Civil and Commercial Law
Perhaps the greatest contrast lies in civil and commercial law. China has invested heavily in creating a coherent and modern body of private law, culminating in the 2021 Civil Code—a monumental codification integrating property, contract, tort and family law. These reforms are not primarily liberal in spirit but instrumental in function: they provide the legal infrastructure for a market economy and for China’s global commercial ambitions. Enforcement of contracts and protection of property rights, particularly for foreign investors, have improved markedly. Although corruption and local protectionism persist, Chinese courts have developed a degree of professionalism that allows for relatively predictable outcomes in non-political disputes.
Russia, by contrast, has oscillated between codification and chaos. While her civil code is comprehensive, enforcement is plagued by corruption, inconsistent interpretation and weak respect for judicial decisions. Economic disputes are often resolved through informal networks, violence or direct appeals to political patrons rather than through courts. The result is a dual system: formal law for appearances, and shadow governance through patronage and intimidation. This inhibits foreign investment and fosters chronic uncertainty within Russia’s business environment.
Rule of Law versus Rule by Law
The philosophical distinction between the “rule of law” and “rule by law” encapsulates the essential divergence between these systems. In both China and Russia, law exists not to limit the state but to serve it. Yet China’s model of “rule by law” is more systematic and disciplined, aimed at governance through predictability and bureaucratic order. Russia’s, on the other hand, is more personalistic and coercive, reflecting a culture of arbitrary power and informal influence.
China’s leaders view legal order as a mechanism to sustain the Party’s legitimacy and maintain social harmony. The Party’s supremacy is non-negotiable, but within its parameters legal reasoning is encouraged and even rewarded when it enhances administrative efficiency. Russia’s leadership views legality as a façade to justify the decisions of a ruling elite whose legitimacy depends not upon rational governance but upon control of coercive power and the projection of national strength.
Conclusion
Both China and Russia present to the world the appearance of modern states governed by elaborate legal codes and judicial institutions. Yet beneath the surface, each treats law as an instrument of political power. China has built a technocratic and bureaucratised system that prioritises stability and economic development within the Party’s absolute authority. Russia has cultivated a personalised system of control in which law operates as the language of obedience to the ruler’s will.
The difference, therefore, is not between autocracy and freedom, but between disciplined authoritarianism and predatory authoritarianism. In China, law is the servant of order; in Russia, it is the servant of fear. Both reject the Western conception of law as a bulwark against tyranny, but China at least aspires to consistency, while Russia remains mired in arbitrariness. The consequence is that China’s legal system, although not free, is functional; Russia’s, although codified, is hollow.

