The great dictator sits immobile as a buddha while his minions glide around the stage. Watching Xi Jinping through binoculars in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing, I marvel at his composure. It is 2014. Xi has recently assumed power as the leader of the world’s most populous nation and its second-largest economy. From time to time he turns a page as the speaker drones on. Xi himself speaks only on grand occasions. He never touches the porcelain mug of tea before him (an iron bladder is one requirement for leadership in China). Not a glance, not a raised eyebrow betrays any feeling. His handclap at the close is brief. Enigmatic to the end, he rises and walks off stage with a