With the economy slowing, it might appear strange that culture rather than the nation's finances was the main theme when the Communist Party's top leadership met in Beijing last week. Yet, the gathering signalled the start of the mainland's equivalent of an election year, because the next time the party's Central Committee meets, sometime in September or October 2012, it will be to anoint the successors to President Hu Jintao and Premier Wen Jiabao . For the next 12 months, the appearance of stability and the suppression of dissent are more important than anything else and that is why 'cultural security' was this year's buzz phrase. By highlighting the need to guarantee the nation's 'cultural security', and making an explicit link between culture and national unity, the party is sending a message to the mainland's artists, filmmakers and writers that it intends to tighten control over them. It is also a signal that Beijing is preparing to stifle the increasingly discordant voices of the ever-growing ranks of social media users on the mainland. 'Cultural Security' is a suitably Orwellian euphemism that expresses the party's fear of microblogs, in particular Weibo, the mainland's version of Twitter. Comments appearing on it are often ridiculous, offensive and inaccurate, or sheer rumour-mongering. Yet, they provide an instant reaction by ordinary people to events as they happen and so offer the party deeply sobering feedback into what their subjects think. Judging by the scathing posts in response to the way the authorities handled the Wenzhou train crash in July, as well as virulent attacks on corrupt and high-handed officials, the 200-million-plus Weibo users are mostly unimpressed by their leaders. Worse, microblogs are now so omnipresent that even the tame traditional media have been forced to pick up on the topics they focus on. Such open criticism would be unwelcome at any time. But with the present leaders desperate to ensure that their final year is not tainted by expressions of widespread dissatisfaction with their rule, cutting off the means by which people can complain and criticise is essential. Equally important for the party is the need to guarantee a smooth transition of power. That has become far more difficult, as the distance between the privileged and largely anonymous heirs to the Politburo and their far more charismatic revolutionary predecessors grows ever wider. Shutting up microbloggers will make that task easier. Rumours have been flying since the start of September, prompted by various official voices citing the irresponsible nature of some microblogging, that there will be a clampdown on Weibo. Some sort of real-name registration system is likely to be introduced, although whether that can succeed in stemming the tidal wave of online criticism is doubtful as enforcing it will require a gargantuan effort. Beijing, too, may be missing a trick in focusing on 'cultural security' instead of doing more to halt the slowdown in economic growth. The party has noted the role that Facebook and Blackberry instant messaging played in helping the London rioters organise in July. But on the mainland, it is rising food prices and unemployment, and illegal land confiscations, which are far more likely to send ordinary people on to the streets to protest than comments on Weibo. As for the plan to use culture to reinforce national unity, that is a natural extension of the campaign by the ambitious Chongqing party secretary Bo Xilai to revive the concept of 'red culture'. Like cracking down on social media, it is a way for Beijing to close down the space that dissent needs to exist. But by monitoring artists even more closely and stressing a need for patriotic art, the mainland's cultural output will lack even more credibility overseas. Rather than boosting the nation's 'soft power', it seems the CCP wants only to ensure that its grip on power is reinforced. David Eimer is a Beijing-based journalist