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Tag: China

Redacting History

Monday this week marked the 17th anniversary of the Wenchuan earthquake, a 7.9 magnitude tremor that devastated Sichuan province and tragically took the lives of nearly 100,000 people. On the anniversary this year, one particular Wenchuan-related item surged to the top of search engine Baidu and hot search lists on the social media forum Weibo. It involved a vox pops interview given on location one week after the 2008 quake by Li Xiaomeng (李小萌), a reporter from state broadcaster CCTV. In the old broadcast shared on social media on May 12, Li comes across a farmer known simply as “Uncle Zhu” (朱大爷) as she strolls along a collapsed mountain road. Speaking a local dialect, Zhu stoically tells the journalist about the appalling conditions in the area. Through an interpreter he explains to the reporter that he is returning home to harvest his rapeseed crops in order to “reduce the burden on the government” — meaning that he will have some income and not need to be totally dependent on aid. By the end of the interview the farmer is convulsed with sobs, the tragedy of the situation coming through.

Li posted this week on Weibo to commemorate the moment, revealing that Uncle Zhu passed away in 2011. She said: “That conversation, with its unexpected, banal but heartbreaking details, showed all of us in China that people like Uncle Zhu, with their calm acceptance in the face of catastrophe, have the backbone to do what is right.” Other media, including China Youth Daily, an outlet under the Communist Youth League, built on Li’s exchanges with the Uncle Zhu in the years after the quake to commemorate the anniversary.

But a key portion of the television exchange was edited out of this year’s commemorative coverage. Near the midpoint of the original video, Li turns from her conversation with Zhu to interview several other farmers. One farmer explains that his child was killed in the earthquake, “buried in Beichuan First Middle School.” This exchange referenced the widespread collapse in the quake zone of shoddily constructed school buildings, resulting in the death of thousands of children. Revelations of school collapses briefly drove a wave of public anger, and a burst of Chinese media coverage — before the authorities came down hard.

As Dalia Parete wrote last week for CMP, Chinese media are generally subject to strict controls when reporting on breaking disaster stories. but past disasters too are subject to careful narrative control, with inconvenient facts often erased from official memory.

Screenshot of Li Xiaomeng’s May 2008 interview from the quake zone with “Uncle Zhu.”

Anti-Spy Hiring Policy

Foreigners aren’t the only ones in Xi’s China who are at risk of spying accusations. At the annual shareholders meeting of Gree Electric Appliances Ltd, an electronics conglomerate based in Guangdong, CEO Dong Mingzhu (董明珠) said the company “absolutely does not use overseas returning students” (海归派) because of the risk some have been turned into spies. “I have to choose conservatively,” said Dong.

The CEO is known for stirring up controversy, and this time was no exception. Her words racked up hundreds of millions of views on Chinese social media, with some netizens praising Dong and others mocking her, wondering what spies would find among the company’s stock of air conditioners.

Youth unemployment is a frustrating topic in Chinese society, with many young people investing a great deal of personal wealth studying abroad in the hope this will improve their chances on the job ladder. Major central state news outlets like Xinhua and CCTV have not run the story. Indeed, in the past the latter celebrated Dong’s reputation for controversy as an asset. But the story has appeared in newspapers under the state-owned Shanghai United Media Group, including The Paper and the Xinmin Evening News. The latter called Dong’s remarks “absurd” and potentially damaging to the prospects of returning students.

On social media, the prominent Weibo user “Liu Ji Shou” (留几手) declared, “In light of Ms. Dong Mingzhu’s public discrimination against overseas returnees seeking employment, I announce that until Ms. Dong publicly apologizes and retracts her statement, my family will refuse to purchase any Gree products. We mean what we say!”

Red Seas Ahead

In yet another local manifestation of what the CCP calls “ideological and political education” (思政教育), or sizheng, a national program to ensure that students adhere to the political line of the party, young cadets at Shanghai Maritime University (上海海事大学) are now receiving an education that anchors maritime training to party history.

On March 27, students at the university, which specializes in shipping, transport and maritime industries, sat for a lecture from Xu Xuechen (徐雪琛), a top official from Shanghai’s local museum of the CCP’s founding, who instructed them in how to effectively integrate “red stories” (红色故事) into seemingly non-ideological subjects like maritime studies. This unapologetic process of ideological insinuation has been a cornerstone of sizheng since Xi Jinping’s campaign in 2019 to reinvigorate the practice, which has its origins in the 1940s.

According to a report in the Shanghai Morning Post (新聞晨報), a commercial daily under the city’s CCP mouthpiece, the motto of the sizheng program at Shanghai Maritime University is “Red + Blue + Special” (红色+蓝色+特色), combining the party’s cardinal color with the university’s official blue (also a symbol of its maritime associations). Special? Yes, we’re stumped too. But according to university officials, the program aims to cultivate “new maritime personnel who have ideals and responsibility, are willing to endure hardships, and are brave in their struggle.”

Somewhere, we might imagine, key maritime skills are also involved — like navigation.

404: What Is It Good For?

An exposé published last week by Guangzhou’s Southern Metropolis Daily (南方都市報) telling the shocking story of exorbitant morgue fees in Jinan, the capital of coastal Shandong province, quickly disappeared from China’s internet last week — suggesting authorities were uncomfortable with its implications of bureaucratic negligence. The report detailed how the body of murder victim Liu Yun (刘芸) had remained in storage at a local funeral home for more than five years, accumulating 380,000 yuan (52,800 dollars) in storage fees that the victim’s impoverished rural family could not afford to pay.

The bureaucratic deadlock occurred when police refused to issue a death certificate, claiming the court verdict was sufficient, while the funeral home insisted it needed this specific document to release the body. Despite regulations clearly assigning responsibility to police for issuing death certificates in criminal cases, the impasse continued until media exposure prompted authorities to waive all fees. This is apparently not an isolated case.

As the article vanished online, it left a string of “404” error messages in its wake. In an oddly colorful take on censorship, Tencent turned the page block into a creative error page encouraging users to “light a dream for children” (为孩子们点亮一个梦想) by supporting rural schools. The message poignantly notes: “The page you’re looking for has gone astray seeking dreams, but you can still make a difference together with Tencent’s volunteers.”

America Unhinged

Talk about selective reporting. While protest activity in China remains largely invisible in domestic media, American demonstrations receive front-page treatment. This narrative, emphasizing the apparent disorder of democratic and populist politics in America, is the message that media consumers across China are presumably meant to take away from the wave of protests happening in cities across the country last week.

Chinese coverage of American demonstrations was extensive in its reach, though the official Xinhua News Agency and China Central Television served as the sole sources for most reports, with nearly identical phrasing across outlets. Guangzhou’s Southern Metropolis Daily (南方都市報) reported on April 7 that “more than 500,000 people participated in 1,300 protest events across America” against the Trump administration. The article noted that “even ‘red counties’” — those generally supportive of Republican Party candidates and policies — had seen sizable protest crowds waving banners with messages like “King of Corruption” and “Make Lying Wrong Again.” The Paper (澎湃), a Shanghai-based online outlet, published an extensive gallery of photos showing demonstrations across major US cities on April 5, describing the events as “the largest collective protest since Trump took office.”

While providing comprehensive coverage of American unrest, Chinese media outlets remain silent on domestic protests — even in the once relatively free environment of Hong Kong. The city’s police commissioner, Chow Yat-ming (周一鳴) stressed earlier this month when discussing national security that citizens should consider it their “personal duty” to report violations. The contrast could hardly be clearer. American protests merit detailed coverage, while Chinese ones warrant police scrutiny. If only the Trump administration hadn’t frozen funding for one of the only projects actually monitoring dissent in China.

Citizen Soldier, Citizen Journalist

One week ago, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky announced that his intelligence services had identified at least 155 Chinese citizens fighting for Russia in Ukraine. “We are collecting information and we believe there are more, many more,” he said, adding that the Chinese government appeared to be “turning a blind eye” to recruitment efforts on Chinese social networks. China’s Foreign Ministry quickly called Zelensky’s claims “groundless,” but even this official response was non-existent in media coverage inside China. Meanwhile, the story received strong Chinese-language coverage in overseas outlets including Deutsche WelleRadio France InternationaleRadio Free Asia and Singapore’s Lianhe Zaobao (聯合早報).

But some of the most illuminating coverage had already emerged more than a week earlier — even before Zelensky’s public remarks. On March 30, former CCTV celebrity anchor Chai Jing (柴静) released an hour-long video special to her YouTube channel for which she interviewed Chinese fighters on both sides of the conflict. She spoke with “Ma Kalong” (马卡龙), a Russian-allied Chinese soldier, as well as several volunteer combatants fighting for Ukraine, such as Gao Shan (高山) and Peng Chenliang (彭陈亮), who was killed in action.

Chai suggests in her investigation that these fighters are not officially sent by China. However, the video released by Ukraine last week alludes tantalizingly to intermediaries, which points to networks in China that are likely recruiting fighters — a highly sensitive story one Chinese media insider tells us is just waiting to unfold.

According to Chai’s interviews, Russian-allied recruits are primarily motivated by financial incentives, while Ukraine’s Chinese volunteers cite ideological commitments to democracy and freedom. This contrast in motivation matches the stark difference in their treatment. While Russian-allied fighters describe poor equipment and conditions, Ukraine’s Chinese volunteers (though facing high casualty rates) express a sense of purpose in their choice. Chai Jing’s YouTube channel is chock full of excellent interviews, a welcome comeback from the former state journalist who once roused ordinary Chinese to share images of wasteful government buildings in China by saying: “You are a citizen, and you are a journalist.”

Beijing Bristles

Ever since April 2, when President Donald Trump announced the imposition of deep tariffs from White House Rose Garden as a “Liberation Day” for America, China has pushed back hard, framing the United States as bullying, inflexible, and ultimately harmful to the world and itself. The rallying cry from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) three days later set the tone of defiance: “The world needs justice, not hegemony!” (世界要公道,不要霸道).

Filtered out through an official notice, or tonggao (通稿), from Xinhua News Agency, the MFA’s language accused the US of “economic bullying” and “zero-sum game playing,” and warned that “pressure and threats are not the correct way to deal with China.” The message reverberated throughout the media inside China, from the leadership’s People’s Daily (人民日報), to provincial mouthpieces like Guangdong’s Nanfang Daily (南方日報), and on to more commercial outlets like Caixin Media (財新) and the 21st Century Business Herald (21世紀經濟報道). In perhaps the subtlest sign of pique, the professionally-minded Caixin labeled the notice “Authorized by Xinhua for Release” (新华社受权发布). Translation: We were ordered to run this.

For a more detailed look at China’s framing of the US tariffs, stay tuned for our full analysis next week. Until then, here is a breakdown of the key narrative frames driving official coverage over the past two weeks — all evident in the original MFA release.

A Terminal Crisis for Chinese Television

Initium Media (端傳媒) published an extraordinary inside look earlier this month at the deep challenges facing official Party-run media in China, particularly television networks caught between political control and financial viability — with television audiences left out of the equation. The deeply reported piece reveals how corruption has become normalized as a survival mechanism. China’s nearly 2,500 television stations face deep financial pressures, with insiders describing them as “living like beggars” (大家都是过着要饭的日子). At China Central Television (CCTV), reporters’ salaries have plummeted while top executives often offer public relations services on the side, and news anchors hawk products via livestreams. Local station reporters earn as little as 800 yuan (110 dollars) monthly, which must be supplemented by commissions from commercial activity.

An ad from the China Media Group (CMG), the conglomerate directly under the CCP’s Central Propaganda Department, for a shopping show launched on January 1.

The core problem is political: increasingly stringent content restrictions have made meaningful programming impossible. As one CCTV producer candidly admitted, everyone knows the solution — allow creative freedom and programs that respond to people’s concerns — “but none of these things are possible.” The inevitable result, according to a propaganda official, is that “television will gradually die out.”

To learn more, read our full translation, or try the original must-read at Initium.

Otherworldly Fraud

Last week, on the heels of Tomb Sweeping Day, or “Qingming” (清明), across the Chinese-speaking world, the technology media 36Kr reported on a racket that is out of this world. According to the outlet, authorities across the country must regularly crack down on unlicensed “fake ghost money” (假冥币) — the paper bills families burn for the departed.

Though China’s Regulations on Funeral and Interment Control focus primarily on cremation policies and facility management, some provincial and city-level regulations have added their own restrictions, including against “feudal superstition.” Liaoning Province, for example, explicitly prohibits the manufacture and sale of paper money and paper replicas — such as gold bars and sports cars — for funeral purposes. Enforcement varies widely by region, but police generally pursue three violations: operations without proper business licenses, products mimicking real Chinese currency, and use of toxic materials. Last year, police in Liaoning shut down an unlicensed workshop producing ghost money from recycled newspapers.

Ethereal levels of inflation are another problem outside the jurisdiction of authorities. These days, ghost bills feature astronomical denominations like 98 trillion yuan — more than two-thirds of China’s total GDP for 2024. In 2018, a lone developer created “Ethereum Ghost Money” (以太冥币) in an effort to “control inflation in the underworld.” This digital solution, however, has not yet supplanted traditional practices. For now, the deceased must make do with hyper-inflated spirit currency, proving that questionable monetary policy extends beyond our earthly realm.