Reading the political report delivered by Vietnamese General Secretary To Lam to the 14th Party Congress, and stripping away its layers of propaganda, a stark portrait emerges of a new power figure—more decisive and more ambitious, yet burdened by existential contradictions the Communist Party of Vietnam is choosing to ignore.
Comparing the 2016 report by the late General Secretary Nguyen Phu Trong with the 2026 report by To Lam reveals a distinct shift in leadership philosophy.
The Nguyen Phu Trong era (2016–2024) was defined by “defense and rectification.” His documents were heavy on ideology, driven by a fear of “self-evolution,” and focused on Party morality. He was the so-called “guardian of the temple.”
With To Lam, a career security general, we enter an era of “offense and control.” The 2026 documents use the language of security and technocracy: “enforcement discipline” and “comprehensive digital transformation.” But this “transformation” comes with a catch.
The paranoia of this new securocracy was on full display as the Congress opened. As reported by Reuters on January 19, delegates were issued tablets with no internet connection (intranet only), mobile signals were jammed around the venue and attendees, even those living in Hanoi, were confined to designated accommodations.
This paints a stark picture: To Lam envisions a digital era where high-tech tools are used not to connect, but to isolate and monitor. The CPV is transitioning from collective leadership to high-level centralization, where the digital revolution is simply a more efficient way to enforce the will of the leader.
The report articulates a vision for an “Era of Ascent” (Kỷ nguyên vươn mình) with a target of 10% annual GDP growth. In the current global context, this figure is extremely ambitious.
Why this specific number? It stems not from pure economic calculation, but from political fear. The Party understands that time is running out. Without rapid, miraculous growth now, the regime faces a collapse in legitimacy as the country inevitably falls into the middle-income trap.
Despite the report’s call for “breakthroughs,” it sidesteps two core issues that will determine the nation’s destiny over the next 10–15 years.
First, how to get rich before getting old? Vietnam has one of the fastest aging rates in the world. By 2035–2040, the current “golden workforce” will retire. At that point, the burden of social welfare will crush the economy if the nation has not accumulated sufficient capital.
The “Era of Ascent” slogan thus rings hollow when the young labor force grows scarce and productivity fails to outpace aging. The Party can manage its own personnel, but it cannot pass a resolution to stop the population from aging.
Second, where is the energy for the 10% GDP engine? To achieve 10% GDP growth, energy supply must grow by 15–20%. The reality is grim: power planning is chaotic, hydropower is tapped out, solar and wind are bottlenecked by grid issues, the nuclear power restart is sluggish and LNG projects have failed to move from the drawing board to power-generating reality.
To Lam wants a new motor to drive the economy ahead, but he apparently forgot about fuel. If Vietnam lacks electricity, the FDI eagles will fly away, and the dream of 10% growth will evaporate.
The document emphasizes that “the people are the root,” but the strict controls at the Congress mirror the Party’s approach to society: treating citizens as potential threats rather than partners.
Through digital control and security crackdowns, the Party aims to induce a state of resistance paralysis, just as it paralyzed the mobile networks at the Congress. The goal is a citizenry focused solely on economics and fearful of politics.
If the 14th Congress were truly a place to forge solutions, it would welcome openness. Instead, the jammer-blocked venue symbolizes the Party’s state: isolated from reality and fearful of the very world it claims to want to join.
Regardless of who is chosen as the next core of leaders, the people remain bystanders. No matter how loudly the slogans are shouted, Vietnam will remain in a state of old wine in new bottles under CPV rule—just now with even tighter corks.
Nguyen Ngoc Nhu Quynh, also known as Mother Mushroom, is a Vietnamese writer, human rights commentator and former political prisoner based in Texas, United States. She is the founder of WEHEAR, an independent initiative focusing on Southeast Asian politics, human rights and economic transparency.