The trial of Bo Xilai, the “princeling” and erstwhile Chongqing party secretary, was meant to end a spectacle that has transfixed the Chinese public for months. Instead, it looks more like the opening act. Ever since Wang Lijun, Mr Bo’s chief of police, fled to the US consulate in Chengdu in February 2012 to expose an elaborate tale of murder and corruption, the Chinese public has been treated to a unique glimpse into the way their country is run. By trying Mr Bo and by allowing details of his many transgressions to drip out, the Communist party hopes to demonstrate its adherence to the rule of law. A rotten element has been flushed out. The party will not balk at justice even if that means devouring one of its own.

If that is the official narrative then it is palpably false. Mr Bo’s case – involving cyanide poisoning, a French villa and the mafia-style administration of Chongqing – has been particularly colourful. But evidence suggests that bribery, corruption and thuggery are not the exception. Rather they are the modus operandi of a Communist party whose power has been unchallenged for six decades and whose officials have gained untrammelled access to the wealth China’s economic transformation has produced. As the economy now slows, the gap that has opened up between ordinary people and those in the party’s upper echelons will only create more friction. It is not only Mr Bo who is in the dock. It is the Communist party itself.

The trial, whose result is predetermined, has been difficult to stage-manage. Produce too much evidence of corruption and the public might conclude Mr Bo’s conduct is not so far from the norm. Too little and there might be an upsurge in sympathy for Mr Bo, who is a hero for some who want to return to the revolution’s original ideals of social justice.