Now Executive Director of the China Media Project, leading the project’s research and partnerships, David originally joined the project in Hong Kong in 2004. He is the author of Dragons in Diamond Village (Penguin), a book of reportage about urbanization and social activism in China, and co-editor of Investigative Journalism in China (HKU Press).
Following speculation last month that Chinese leader Xi Jinping was facing internal challenges to his power, and that he had experienced a marked decline in prestige in China’s official media, we looked at his performance in the front-page headlines of the official People’s Daily — a fair if imperfect reflection of the prevailing internal consensus.
How do things stand now at the close of July?
By our latest front-page count, Xi Jinping’s performance remains consistent. The dip since 2023 is consistent with historical patterns, where steep jumps in frequency for the top leader can be seen in the wake of Chinese Communist Party (CCP) congresses. The first half of 2023 understandably brought a sharp incline in the use of new buzzwords and phrases from the political report to the 20th National Congress of the CCP, held from October 16-22, 2022.
Terms like “Chinese-style modernization” (中国式现代化) and “new form of human civilization” (人类文明新形态) were naturally pushed with renewed vigor in the state media from January onward, defining the ideological status quo of the post-20th period. And other Xi Jinping staples, like the “Two Unshakeables” (两个毫不动摇), followed suit.
In the short term, it is not unusual to see apparent gaps with previous performance emerge. These can close as important events, such as plenary sessions or important foreign policy exchanges, drive a burst in front-page coverage.
The most crucial point to bear in mind is the extreme and persisting gap between Xi Jinping and all other members of the party’s Politburo Standing Committee (PSC). Xi maintains a commanding lead in the party’s internal messaging. We can also note that no other members of the PSC have made clear advances in terms of front-page performance.
For those asking whether or not a power struggle is underway in China, you are asking the wrong question. Of course there is struggle. This is the nature of politics under the CCP. The only real question is: What kind? As we near the next National Congress in 2027 — for which the midpoint passed in April this year — we can naturally expect various forms of jockeying and positioning. Our point is that these moves and shifts are not yet visible in the state media headlines.
We will certainly keep you posted.
On July 15, journalists investigating consumer reports of substandard electrical cable products at an industrial park complex in the southern Chinese province of Hunan were attacked by the executive of a cable company during a reporting visit to the firm’s offices. In an altercation that was caught on video and took social media by storm, the man was shown smashing a reporter’s filming equipment to pieces.
As the story turned on the perpetrator of the violent act, a 42-year old boss at Hunan Fengxu Cable Company (湖南豐旭線纜有限公司) identified only as Mr. Xie, the All-China Journalists Association (ACJA) — an ostensible professional association for the media that more fully represents the interests of the ruling Chinese Communist Party (CCP) — spoke out in support of the reporters. In a sanctimonious missive, the association declared that “interviewing is a journalist’s right” (采访是记者的权利).
Before and after sequences of Mr. Xie’s act of smashing the reporter’s camera were shared widely across media and social media.
It was a welcome idea, certainly. But it was also deeply hypocritical coming from a Party-run association the puts politics and news control at the forefront of its work, perpetuating and defending Xi Jinping’s vision of the press as a tool for the Party’s interest and for “positive propaganda.”
Since Xi’s press policy took full shape in February 2016, it has revolved around the notion of the “Four Firm Adherences” (四个牢牢坚持), which uphold 1) the CCP nature of the media (essentially, serving the Party); 2) the Marxist View of Journalism (which again puts the Party at the center); 3) “correct guidance of public opinion,” a buzzword for media control to maintain social and political stability dating back to the political turmoil of 1989; and 4) “emphasizing positive propaganda” (正面宣传为主), the principle that media should generally avoid critical reporting in favor of the uplifting and constructive.
Needless to say, these four interlocking concepts — which the ACJA has dutifully upheld — are a recipe for compliance and lack of agency. To the extent that Chinese media have turned their CCP-given powers to playing a monitoring role, this has happened through what is generally known as “supervision by public opinion” (舆论监督), a concept unique to China’s highly controlled press environment. This form of supervision generally entails press reporting of small-time abuses that do not touch directly on the interests of the Party-state. And more recently, in a further reigning in of journalists in which the ACJA has played an active role, Xi Jinping has emphasized the unity of “supervision” and “positive propaganda” — meaning that coverage should direct through positivity and praise, rather than correct.
It was around this much mythologized notion of supervision that the ACJA and state media shaped their outrage over the destruction of the reporter’s filming equipment in Hunan. In its high-minded statement, the association affirmed that “legitimate supervision by public opinion is protected by law” (正当舆论监督受法律保护). Who gets to decide what types of probing coverage are “legitimate”? The answer, again, is the Party, as the “Four Firm Adherences” make clear.
Despite his emphasis on anti-corruption, Xi Jinping has severely constrained the already limited supervisory role of China’s press, viewing the war against corruption as a matter of internal CCP “discipline” rather than outside supervision.
In fact, despite his reputation for centralizing and consolidating political control, Xi has actually empowered leadership at every level of China’s vast bureaucracy to determine news coverage and its constraints. Local authorities now exercise more control over media than at any previous point in the reform era. News feeds at major online outlets like Shanghai’s The Paper (澎湃) are filled with news and promotional releases from government-run social accounts, a vast web of self-promotion. Crime and legal news? Don’t look to your local journalism team. The story has been covered by a ”police incident report” (警情通报) directly from a district or city police precinct.
Swatting at Flies
Against this backdrop of strict press control and local information empowerment, the ACJA’s talk of journalist’s rights does not accord with political realities. The true right to report is vested in those who wield political power, which is why only protected state media outlets can pursue “supervision” in China today against small-time consumer concerns, or malfeasance by small companies and individuals. This is sometimes referred to critically in Chinese as “swatting flies and letting tigers run free.”
Even these state media journalists are not safe from harassment when reporting local stories. In one recent case in March 2024, a filming crew from the Party-run China Media Group (CMG), reporting for the state broadcaster China Central Television (CCTV), was hustled away from the scene of a deadly gas explosion in Henan province during a live broadcast. How could that happen? Because the real media policy at the state-level, and therefore at every level beneath, is information suppression. What really unfolded on live television last year was not about journalists exposing the truth to the public. Rather, it was about who would exercise what level of control over the story. It goes without saying that CMG and CCTV, which are directly under the Central Propaganda Department, have their own “discipline” to enforce.
Nevertheless, as the ACJA spoke up over the Hunan incident this month, CCTV was quick to amplify the language about journalists’ rights. Provincial-level state outlets followed suit. Jilin province’s state-run news site declared in a commentary that it was nonplussed by the events at the industrial park complex in Hunan. “It is hard to believe that such violations of journalists’ legitimate rights could occur in broad daylight in a society governed by law,” it wrote.
In what might be regarded as a blatant violation of Party orthodoxy outside this moment of state media outrage, the Jilin commentary ventured even to say that legal protections for journalists are necessary because “only then can the news media properly serve as the sentries of society.” We should remember that the CCP’s Document 9, released in 2013, explicitly attacks the notion of the press as “society’s public instrument.”
As a matter of policy, China’s media are most definitely not “sentries of society.” As the “Four Firm Adherences” make clear, they are to do the CCP’s bidding, and to defend its interests — even if that means crushing a story, pulverizing facts, or smashing cameras.
As shocking as the scene outside the Hunan Fengxu Cable Company might have been, nothing whatsoever about it is difficult to believe. China’s constitutional right to freedom of expression is routinely trampled by a system that pulls journalists back from breaking stories, directs them to avoid sensitivities, and obliterates online posts in the millions.
Mr. Xie is not a monstrous outlier. He is a raw and rough allegory for the system as it was designed.
In a story that topped headlines and internet chatter in China last week, Dalian Polytechnic University in China’s northern Liaoning province sparked outrage by expelling a 21-year-old female student for appearing in videos posted nearly seven months ago to the Telegram account of a visiting Ukrainian esports player. Videos of the student in the visitor’s hotel room showed nothing sexually explicit, and it was unclear why the videos had become an issue now, but the university responded vehemently with a public statement naming the student and accusing her of “improper association with foreigners” (与外国人不当交往) that had “damaged national dignity and the school’s reputation” (有损国格、校誉).
The story ignited a fierce debate across Chinese social media over institutional overreach and gender double standards, trending on Weibo on July 13.
Media commentator Zhang Feng (张丰) criticized “sexual nationalism,” arguing that while Chinese men dating foreign women might be seen as acceptable or even deserving praise, the opposite invites fury among sexist males who see Chinese women as property of men and the state. Xiaoxi Cicero (小西cicero), a writer who posts on WeChat, asked whether the same nationalist uproar and expulsion would have followed had a young Chinese man been shown on video with a visiting foreign woman.
The esports player, Danylo Teslenko, also known as “Zeus,” removed the videos within several days, and apologized publicly for sharing what he called “too personal” content. By that point, however, the story had already grabbed headlines in China and around the world — revealing stark contrasts in ethical journalism standards.
While major international media outlets likeThe New York Times and the Associated Press withheld the victim’s name citing privacy concerns, Chinese domestic media extensively published her full name after the university included it in their official expulsion notice.
As the backlash grew, however, there was a clear effort across the media to scrub her name and replace it with references to her surname or general phrases such as “female student.” At Shanghai’sThe Paper, original reports mentioned the student’s full name, which was later substituted for “Li XX.” Readers noticed the change. “So, you’ve swapped out ____ for ‘Li XX,'” said one.” Even posts on public accounts like this one that purported to come to the victim’s defense shamelessly named her, and continued to circulate prurient images from Teslenko’s Telegram channel.
As Chinese-language media in Hong Kong, Taiwan and Southeast Asia reported the story, they generally avoided naming the victim. This did not stop some, however, from squeezing the story for its sensational impact. At Taiwan’s Liberty Times (自由時報) on July 13, the victim was referenced only as “a Chinese female student (中國女大生), but the outlet played up the sexual element of the story by prominently featuring a blurred image of the student playfully sticking her tongue out. A report by Hong Kong’s HK01 similarly avoided mentioning the victim by name, but included a photo gallery of images previously on Teslenko’s account.
Responding to a push from the central leadership to supercharge international communication at the local level, China’s southern Guangdong province launched four new digital platforms this month. Going live on July 2 alongside the release of a glossy propaganda film called “Go Guangdong” (够广东), the platforms include IP Guangdong, INFO Guangdong, LIVE Guangdong, and GO Guangdong.
Provincial propaganda officials have lauded the online portals as new forms of “citizen-based external propaganda” (人人外宣), and state media have suggested they mark an innovative departure from previous top-down approaches to global communication. But the sites, and the plans announced alongside them, have the same underlying flaw as all external media communication conceived by China’s leadership in the name of “enhancing cultural soft power.” The point is power first, never culture. As for “soft,” these initiatives involve aspects of outright deceit that clearly mark them as classic iterations of sharp power.
Backyard Story Furnaces
In their basic concept, Guangdong’s new platforms are echoes of Xi Jinping’s top-down reconfiguration of external propaganda since around 2018, a process accelerating from 2021 onward. That reconfiguration enlists provinces, cities and even counties across the country in a more localized mobilization of messaging — including through a rapidly growing number of “international communication centers” (ICCs). The Chinese Communist Party’s objective is to augment past forms of large-scale and top-down global broadcasting — think CGTN and China Daily — with local voices and narratives.
As the new portals were brought online, propaganda officials in Guangdong hyped what they called an international communication ecosystem in which “everyone can participate and everyone can communicate” (人人可参与、人人能传播). Initially, that might sound like a loosening of state control over international communication, or even an empowerment of grassroots voices. It is not. In fact, it is something starkly familiar — the mobilization by central authorities of local energies, expanding outward and downward by fiat. It is, if you will, the backyard furnace (土法炼钢) approach to external propaganda in the 21st century.
This provincial initiative in Guangdong is premised on a two-fold strategy. First, it aims to make active storytellers of passive audiences, meaning that ordinary Chinese and international creators (such as artists and influencers) can become global communicators by using a built-for-purpose content portal. Second, services for foreign nationals in the province, such as planned cultural exchanges, are to be utilized as communication assets (“服务力”转化为“传播力”) — meaning that the provincial propaganda office has an active plan to exploit foreigners as propaganda resources in the name of service provision.
How exactly will this work?
IP Guangdong is the primary portal for the first of these two approaches. The bilingual creative platform actively solicits submissions from international content creators worldwide. The system aggregates visual materials including photographs, videos, and design elements around eight themes showcasing Guangdong’s economic vitality and cultural achievements. The platform has opened registration, submission, and collaboration functions to global creators, it says, seeking to activate and use creative forces internationally.
Like all four of these new platforms, IP Guangdong is under the direct control of Guangdong’s propaganda office and is operated through its existing state-run media structure. An ICP search for IP Guangdong shows that it is run by Today (Guangdong) International Communication Co., Ltd., a subsidiary of the Nanfang Media Group, the conglomerate under the provincial CCP committee that publishes the official Nanfang Daily newspaper.
Click on the interactive graphic below to view these connections.
How IP Guangdong Connects to the State
How IP Guangdong Connects to the State
Level 5
Reset
IP Guangdong Platform
Digital Interface
CLICK TO SHOW CONTROLLING ENTITY
Today (Guangdong) Communication
今日广东国际传播有限公司
Technical Implementation
CLICK TO SHOW CONTROLLING ENTITY
Nanfang Media Group
广东南方报业传媒集团有限公司
Media Operations
CLICK TO SHOW CONTROLLING ENTITY
Propaganda Office
广东省委宣传部
Ideological Oversight
CLICK TO SHOW CONTROLLING ENTITY
Provincial CCP Committee
广东省人民政府 | 中国共产党广东省委员会
Ultimate Authority
CLICK TO SEE FULL HIERARCHY
Provincial CCP Committee
广东省人民政府 | 中国共产党广东省委员会
Propaganda Office
广东省委宣传部
Nanfang Media Group
广东南方报业传媒集团有限公司
Today (Guangdong) Communication
今日广东国际传播有限公司
IP Guangdong Platform
IP Guangdong Platform
A report from the official People’s Daily newspaper claimed earlier this month that IP Guangdong already hosts 712 individual creators and 76 institutional participants. The platform, which enables global registration — and says it offers opportunities for overseas distribution, copyright trading, and exhibition — clearly hopes to become something of an international gathering point for Guangdong-focused content creation. On its Facebook account earlier this month, The South, a rebranding of the former Guangdong Today website, urged its followers to “co-create the world’s next favorite Guangdong story.”
While the platform clearly wishes for international participation, the current contributor breakdown between domestic and foreign participants is not specified, and the draw for international content creators is difficult to imagine. What interest, short of direct payment from the Guangdong government, could content creators possibly have in using this portal over channels like Instagram or TikTok where a truly international reach is possible?
It only makes sense that propaganda authorities in Guangdong have not thought such questions through. Just as local officials in the 1950s fired up their backyard furnaces to please zealous central planners, they have responded not to the needs of audiences and content creators, but to the urgency of political will at the top. It is a recipe for inferior steel, but the slogans of course remain hopeful. “Your video clip is a montage of Guangdong,” read one for IP Guangdong this month. “Your creativity is the new power of Guangdong!” said another, unknowingly fixing the root of the contradiction.
The four newly launched portals in Guangdong province. SOURCE: HK01.
As welcome as the recognition might be in propaganda-think since around 2021 that top-down state propaganda is not paying real dividends among global audiences, the push to mobilize individual voices from the bottom up to serve the larger narrative goals of the state is hardly cute and lovable. It fails, miserably, to understand the root forces that drive individual creativity.
Not to be deterred by a lack of understanding of both creators and audiences, IP Guangdong claims that its initial roster of Chinese contributors includes sculptor Xu Hongfei (许鸿飞), cartoonist Lin Dihuan (林帝浣), and photography association leaders from Guangdong, Hong Kong, and Macau, who have been appointed as “special creators” (特约创作者).
Global Ambassadors
While the first aspect of the Guangdong strategy shows a woeful lack of sensitivity toward creative acts and audiences, the second is outright deceptive.
Another of the new portals, INFO Guangdong, is meant to serve as a “service platform” (服务平台) for foreign nationals living in Guangdong. State media claim that the portal will offer multilingual support across government services, legal assistance, investment guidance, and advice on tourism, education, and healthcare. But another aspect of the INFO Guangdong plan is to establish “Foreign Clubs” (外国人俱乐部) within international communities that can be used to organize cultural exchange activities and attract foreign nationals for the purposes of promoting Guangdong and China.
In discussing these plans, the People’s Daily is shamelessly explicit, making clear that the platforms will “use events like ‘Foreigners Telling Stories’ to transform service recipients into communication partners” (将服务对象转化为传播伙伴). This will likely take shape much as media campaigns currently do, with unwitting foreign students or expats participating in events or junkets that allow state media to project chosen narratives with foreign faces onstage and on-screen.
In fact, according to state media coverage of the plans, five “international community service points” (国际社区信息服务点) have already been designated under INFO Guangdong, with foreign business leaders appointed as “Global Ambassadors” (全球推介官) to facilitate integration (融入) so that “all can tell the Guangdong story” (共同讲述广东故事).
This is not — it should go without saying — a role that foreign business leaders should be asked to play as they do business anywhere in China. Nor should city or provincial governments view their provision of basic information services to expatriates, tourists or other visitors as something transactional, to be cashed in for the broader narrative goals of the Party-state.
Ultimately, Guangdong’s latest approach to external propaganda, heeding Xi Jinping’s call to remake China’s global communication, reveals the same fundamental contradiction that has plagued Beijing’s pursuit of “discourse power” for years. Even as China’s leaders recognize the failure of top-down messaging and scramble to harness individual voices, they cannot find the soft spot in soft power because they refuse to loosen their stranglehold on expression itself.
The logic is circular and self-defeating: creativity must serve the leadership, and precisely because it must, it will not. Until China’s leaders can allow genuine individual expression to flourish without political instrumentalization, their myriad localized efforts at external communication will yield nothing more than inferior steel.
Mandated from on-high by the Chinese Communist Party leadership, China’s new strategy to super-charge its international communication at the local level is certainly not a process of decentralization. It is a policy effort, however, that has launched a thousand centers. The latest addition to the growing roster of international communication centers (ICCs) nationwide is housed at the country’s largest state-owned oil enterprise — underscoring the role also to be played in this global propaganda push by state and private companies.
On June 30, the China National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC), which operates in nearly 70 countries and ranks among the world’s top oil companies by revenue, announced the formation of the “China National Petroleum International Communication Center” (中国石油国际传播中心) in a ceremony in Beijing. The CNPC said the center, established under the corporation’s newspaper division, aims to implement the “spirit” of the CCP’s Third Plenum back in August 2024, where one of the key messages was the need to “steadily raise the effectiveness of China’s international communication” (不断提升国际传播效能). A readout from the ceremony also paid lip service to Xi as the CCP’s leadership core, suggesting the center would advance “Xi Jinping Thought on Culture” (习近平文化思想).
Officials from the CNPC said vaguely that the center would work to elevate the company’s multimedia communication capabilities, adapting to “new situations and requirements” for international communication work. This last statement was almost certainly a reference to how local Party-state bodies, agencies, universities and enterprises have all been pressed into the national objective of enhancing global communication.
In what could be read as further evidence of how this national drive for ICC creation has nosedived into farce, the CNPC announced that its new center would “tell China’s petroleum story well and spread China’s petroleum voice” (讲好中国石油故事,传播中国石油好声音).
The latest county-level ICC opens in Pujiang, Zhejiang, on July 2. The center plans to makes its early origination of rice cultivation a focus point of its external propaganda efforts.
The ceremony was reportedly attended by representatives from 12 central media outlets including the Economic Daily (经济日报) and China Daily (中国日报), both publications directly under the central government, along with media representatives from 23 countries in Africa and the Middle East. According to the CNPC, they included participants from Angola National Radio (安哥拉国家广播电台), Burundi Economic News (布隆迪经济报), the Congo News Agency (刚果通讯社), and Morocco’s 2M Television (摩洛哥2M电视台).
Since 2021, hundreds of international communication centers (国际传播中心) have been formed across China’s vast administrative structure, from county-level governments to provincial authorities, all tasked with projecting Chinese narratives to international audiences.
Also last week, the county of Pujiang in China’s coastal Zhejiang province announced the formation of the “Pujiang International Communication Center” (浦江国际传播中心), or PJICC. The county center reportedly plans to make its ten-millennia history as the “origin of rice cultivation” (稻作之源) a focus of its external communication efforts.
China’s leadership is serious about the development of ICCs as a new strategy, and many of these centers are redoubling their efforts online and across foreign social media channels. As such, these developments should be watched closely. At the same time, as the CNPC and Pujiang centers make clear, observers should maintain a sense of perspective — and perhaps also a sense of humor.
Il Guardiano del Patrimonio, “The Guardian of Heritage,” was the grandiose title of a television series promoting President Xi Jinping’s cultural philosophy as it was broadcast last month across more than 30 Italian media outlets — one of the more ambitious and expansive examples of how China enlists apparent cultural cooperation to advance its political narratives and foreign policy objectives.
The grand launch ceremony in Rome last month was attended by key Chinese officials including Shen Haixiong (慎海雄), deputy head of China’s Propaganda Department and president of CMG, and Chinese Ambassador to Italy Jia Guide (贾桂德). Top Italian attendees included Giuseppe Valditara, the minister of education and merit in Giorgia Meloni’s current administration, former Deputy Prime Minister and Culture Minister Francesco Rutelli, and Italian Football Federation President Gabriele Gravina.
The festivities were a sufficiently grand display of Chinese foreign policy that they earned a segment on the nightly official newscast on China Central Television, “Xinwen Lianbo” (新闻联播). The series, which began airing on Italian networks on June 26, was timed to commemorate the 55th anniversary of China-Italy diplomatic relations. Networks airing the production included Alma TV, Dona TV, Tourism TV, and Lazio TV, as well as the website of the Milan Financial Daily.
Under what specific arrangements did Italian media agree to broadcast this CMG-produced series? CMP has reached out to several, but has received no responses to date.
Produced entirely by China Media Group (中国中央广播电视总台), the state media conglomerate formed in 2018 through the merger of key media groups including China Central Television, the program showcases what it calls Xi’s “profound thinking” on cultural development and his “deep affection” for preserving cultural heritage. The series visits locations where Xi has worked or inspected, including the ancient capital city of Hangzhou in China’s eastern Zhejiang province, and Dunhuang in Gansu, an outpost on the edge of the once Silk Road that is home to a network of grottoes adorned with Buddhist statuary and frescoes.
Giuseppe Valditara, Italy’s minister for education and merit, called Chinese and Italian cultures “brilliant galaxies” as he promoted a clear propaganda film. SOURCE: Wikimedia Commons.
While the program, originally produced by CCTV in 2023, ostensibly focusses on China’s cultural legacies, it clearly promotes Xi Jinping as an inspirational political figure leading an inspirational political party into an era of greatness. In line with China’s most recent remodeling of political discourse since the last CCP congress in October 2022, the country’s ancient civilization is portrayed as the root of the ruling party’s power and legitimacy. Shen Haixiong (慎海雄), deputy head of China’s Propaganda Department and president of China Media Group, said at the launch in Rome that Xi’s “broad-minded embrace” stems from his “confidence and cherishing of cultural roots.”
Apparently swallowing the hook, Valditara responded — awkwardly, it must be said, for an EU education minister touting a production overseen by the CCP’s Central Propaganda Department — that Italian audiences were “eagerly anticipating opportunities to understand more deeply the profound foundation of Chinese culture and contemporary China’s vigorous development.” He described Chinese and Italian civilizations, according to coverage in China’s state media, as “brilliant galaxies that complement each other” (意中文明如璀璨星河,交相辉映).
The festivities in Rome, and the program airing across Italian television, are not really about culture at all. They are efforts to push state-led narratives of political legitimacy and civilizational grandeur through geopolitical posturing dressed up as cultural exchange. Officials in Europe and elsewhere should engage with China — but they should know the difference between culture and state-sponsored theater.
Since he came to power in late 2012, one of Xi Jinping’s core objectives internationally has been to stage a revolution in perceptions of China abroad — notching up victories in what he characterized early in his first term as a global “public opinion struggle” (舆论斗争).
This project, centering on the concept of “telling China’s story well” (讲好中国的故事), responds to what the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) leadership perceives as a detrimental gap with the West of what it terms “discourse power” (话语权). Mainstreaming a hardline notion that emerged in the late 2000s, Xi has set out to resolve China’s historical “third affliction” (三挨) — the contemporary experience of international criticism following earlier periods of military defeat (挨打) and economic poverty (挨饿).
Xi’s vision of returning China — for that is how the Party conceives of history — to its rightful place in global public opinion has evolved beyond traditional national-level state-led messaging to an international communication strategy more actively involving Party-state coordination of voices across locales and administrative levels. It involves leveraging local and regional media and coordinating the production of local multimedia stories through “convergence media centers” (融合媒体中心). It also envisions the participation of businesses, educational institutions and all other aspects of society.
ShanghaiEye, the chief external brand of the Shanghai Media Group International Communication Center.
The transformation is happening across the country — with hugely mixed results. In some local areas, the proliferation of the “international communication centers” (国际传播中心), or ICCs, that coordinate much of this work seems a superficial, ineffective and potentially wasteful response to dictates from on high. There are even now international branches of local ICCs. These are more likely to become window-dressing for provincial leaders than substantive acts of global communication. Take, for example, Hainan province’s launch this month of a Middle East Liaison Center in the United Arab Emirates.
In more developed media cultures in cities like Shanghai and Guangzhou, the shift could represent a more substantive evolution. It is perhaps too early to say. In Shanghai, for example, the government’s push to remold its “international communication matrix” (国际传播矩阵) — to use a term often favored by state communication planners — resulted in the creation in November 2023 of ShanghaiEye, a multimedia brand under the Shanghai Media Group’s “SMG International Communication Center,” that now claims 3.1 million followers on overseas social media.
ShanghaiEye’s YouTube channel, which currently has more than 400,000 subscribers, runs daily videos covering news and culture. Many of these deal with innocuous issues like tourism, food and culture, but many too echo broader state narratives, about the “real China” (versus the prejudicial Western one, a constant CCP theme); echoing Russian propaganda on Ukraine (and here); and selectively mirroring foreign affairs ministry talking points without any additional reporting or context.
Even as accounts the hundreds of accounts, like ShanghaiEye, operated by China’s growing network of international communication centers (ICCs) seek to expand their presence on social media channels that are formally closed to Chinese users back home, they cloak or make ambiguous their association with the country’s broader external propaganda goals. On Facebook, ShanghaiEye mentions no affiliation to the Shanghai CCP leadership. The Facebook account for the government-run China Daily (中国日报), by contrast, clearly labels it as “state-controlled media.” Over at YouTube, ShanghaiEye is simply identified as “a multi-platform media brand focusing on high-quality videos.”
Xi Jinping’s new multi-stakeholder approach to what the CCP terms “external propaganda” (外宣) is described by communication scholars in China as a systematic evolution from traditional propaganda to coordinated “narrative innovation” (叙事话语创新) across government, media, business, and social sectors. The ICCs play a key role in this coordination. But ultimately, the approach requires the concerted effort of all.
Xi Jinping’s New Era International Communication System
习近平新时代国际传播系统
Multi-stakeholder Collaboration
多主体协同
Government
政府
Media
媒体
Enterprises
企业
Social Forces
社会力量
Hover for detailed role descriptions
In an article published online this month, drawing on the insights of several academics, Fudan University doctoral students Liao Xiang (廖翔) and Chen Jingwei (陈经伟) conclude that China’s international communication has moved toward what they term “multi-stakeholder collaborative cross-cultural communication” (跨文化传播的多主体协同). They define three key strategic shifts: 1) coordinated messaging across administrative levels to avoid the “fragmented” approach of previous eras; 2) precision-targeted regional strategies that align local advantages with national objectives; and 3) systematic integration of youth culture and digital platforms to reach “new generation audiences” globally.
The scholars cited in Liao and Chen’s article argue that this represents a fundamental departure from traditional state-led messaging — which in the past relied primarily on large news wires and broadcasters like Xinhua and CGTN — toward what they describe as a comprehensive ecosystem designed to overcome “cultural discounts” (文化折扣). The odd term is another way of referring to the reduced appeal and effectiveness of foreign content due to what the leadership has typically assumed are cultural barriers. Chinese communication scholars are inclined to think that these “discounts” have historically limited China’s ability to project appealing narratives internationally, always overlooking the detrimental role of CCP political control, which maintains a stranglehold on the very notion of culture.
This promotional video in which local ICCs congratulate Guangxi in September 2024 on its ICC formation gives a visual sense of the breadth of the effort.
For scholars like Liao and Chen, it has become second nature in the past few years to argue that the changes introduced to global communication by Xi Jinping are inspirational and ground-breaking. But the claims of success often have a revealingly circular quality, citing victories claimed in the manner of self-promotion as empirical evidence of progress.
One of the scholars cited by the Fudan doctoral students, Chen Zhi (陈智), suggests in his input that the YouTube account of Discover Changsha, an account operated by the Hunan provincial capital’s official ICC, “achieved outstanding results on overseas platforms” with Harry Potter-themed short videos about local culture. This sounds at first like an intriguing possibility. Are local “convergence media centers” responding smartly with international cultural references, and has this been impactful?
The truth is underwhelming. Chen’s example is just more of wishful self-magnification too often found among the country’s communication planners, and it underscores the yawning gap between lofty ambition within China’s airtight political culture and genuine efforts to understand and engage global audiences. In the three months since it was posted to YouTube, Discover Changsha’s Harry Potter-themed video on the dramatic art of face-changing (变脸) has drawn just 327 views. Oh, and zero comments.
Earlier this month, the southern island province of Hainan put its international communication efforts on the global map with the launch of its international media center (ICC). The move follows a trend pushed actively by China’s leadership since 2021 with the idea that local and regional state media and propaganda offices can help energize the country’s “discourse power” globally.
Inaugurated on June 19 at a formal ceremony at Dubai’s Expo China Pavilion, the Middle East Liaison Center (海南国际传播中心中东联络中心) of the Hainan International Media Center (HIMC) represents what Chinese officials described as a “key step” for Hainan’s free trade port in expanding its international media presence and “injecting innovative momentum” into China-Arab media cooperation (video HERE).
More than 50 guests attended the inauguration, including Chinese Deputy Consul General Xian Yi (鲜忆), Dubai Tourism’s Asia-Pacific Director Shahab Shayan, Hainan Broadcasting Group (海南广播电视总台) Deputy Director Wang Lei (王雷), and Dubai Radio Director Salama Suwadi.
Xian Yi called the center “another important milestone” in China-Arab relations that would serve as an “important bridge connecting China and Arab countries.” Dubai Tourism’s Shayan said the facility would become a “bridge for bilateral cultural dialogue, content co-creation and cultural exchanges.”
The language of bridge formation and cultural exchange is a common trope in China’s state led public diplomacy emphasizing that even professional activities such as media and the arts should serve the goals of bilateral harmony and “friendship.” Under this friendship formula, critical media practice has no place and is seen as undermining relations.
A reporter for China-Arab TV is given a privileged question opportunity at a press conference of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in 2024. His softball question was a setup.
Nowhere was the intent and mechanics of “friendly” media relations more apparent than in the presence at the ceremony of China-Arab TV, an outlet that a previous CMP investigation has shown has extremely close ties to China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
During the ceremony, Hainan Broadcasting Group (HBG), the provincial-level radio and television conglomerate that along with the Hainan International Media Center (HIMC) forms two of the province’s three primary external propaganda outlets, signed a strategic cooperation agreement with China Arab TV (中阿卫视). The partnership will focus on programming about Hainan’s free trade port “institutional innovation,” industry openness and trade facilitation, as well as cooperation between Hainan and the UAE.
Officials said the collaboration would target Arab audiences through “program exchanges, content co-creation and channel sharing” to increase understanding of Hainan’s free trade port development and add “new highlights” to China-Arab relations.
Though formally referred to as a “media center,” HIMC is Hainan province’s answer to Xi Jinping’s call for the nationwide creation of what are known as “international communication centers,” or ICCs. These centers have proliferated across China since 2018 as part of a broader program under Xi intended to modernize the Party-led global propaganda system. The initiative gained further momentum in the wake of Xi’s May 31, 2021 call at a Politburo study session to revolutionize Party-state communication with the goal of making China “credible, lovable and respected” (可信 | 可爱 | 可敬). At the Third Plenum in July last year, he again urged what state media described as “important deployments” to “construct a more effective international communication system” (构建更有效力的国际传播体系).
Breaking in the headlines this week, the news that China’s top leader, Xi Jinping, will not be attending the upcoming BRICS summit in Rio de Janeiro has added fuel to speculation that changes are afoot at the top of China’s leadership. Naturally, as the clock counts down to the next congress of the Chinese Communist Party — we tipped over the halfway mark in April this year — questions of succession (or not) will only become increasingly salient.
Adding to this week’s speculation are reports that Xi Jinping has been less prominent in China’s state media. At the Jamestown Foundation’s China Briefover the weekend, Willy Wo-Lap Lam (林和立), always a keen political observer, wrote that “citations of Xi’s name have become thinner and thinner in authoritative official media.” Are we witnessing cracks in the wall of commanding dominance of all things Xi? Is the country’s distant number two, Premier Li Qiang, edging up — or even, dare we say, closing the gap?
At risk of throwing a bucket of cold water on the flames of speculation, our analysis of official media coverage reveals no such decline in Xi’s prominence.
In order to test the top leader’s presence in the most central authoritative official media on this question, we studied Xi’s headline appearances on the front page of the Chinese Communist Party’s official People’s Daily (人民日报) for both the second quarter of 2024 and the second quarter of 2025. We included counts for other members of the Politburo Standing Committee (PSC) in order to determine whether, if indeed there was a decline in visibility, other PSC members were receiving increased attention.
The results, even with four days missing from our dataset for June 2025, suggests that Xi Jinping’s dominance remains largely intact. He appeared in headlines 177 times in the 2024 period versus 157 times this year — a modest decline that will likely be corrected by next Monday.
PSC Member Headlines Chart
PSC Member Headlines in the People’s Daily
April-June comparison: 2024 vs 2025 front-page headline appearances (2025 includes June 26)
Source: China Media Project analysis of People’s Daily front-page headlines
While these numbers cannot reflect on some of the more insider points Lam makes in his analysis, such as that Xi “failed to demonstrate strong leadership” during negotiations with the US in Geneva last month, they hardly suggest a power shift in the country’s most important paper, which the CCP relies upon chiefly to signal politics and policy.
More telling, however, is the fact that Premier Li Qiang (李强), Xi Jinping’s nearest competitor — though barely a spec on the horizon — shows virtually no change between this year and last. He appears 45 times in 2024 and 43 times in 2025. In all likelihood, Li will notch a few more appearances by Monday, making for a slight but statistically insignificant improvement.
All of this said, it is worth keeping a close eye on authoritative official media for any genuine shifts. In the coming months, we may see clearer indications of Xi’s trajectory — whether his power continues to consolidate, perhaps with the emergence of “Xi Jinping Thought” (习近平思想) as a shortened banner term, or whether others begin to edge toward the front.
But for now, at least in the headlines, China’s most powerful leader in generations looks just fine.
In the latest case underscoring the persistent challenge of media corruption in China’s tightly controlled information environment, local district authorities in Shanghai reported this week that they had dismantled a “news extortion” (新闻敲诈) operation using a WeChat public account to blackmail companies for exorbitant “service fees” in order to make negative exposure disappear.
The case, authorities said, involved the exploitation of “supervision by public opinion” (舆论监督) — a concept that has typically been used officially in China to refer to the media’s power to expose malfeasance through reporting, with the proviso that this work does not directly criticize the Party. In this case, authorities allege, the WeChat public account in question exploited critical reporting to press companies into what were labelled “market promotion contracts.”
A copy of a contract from Ding’s public account to an allegedly extorted client. The contract looks like an advertising and promotion arrangement, but authorities say it was used to extract profit in exchange for withholding negative exposure.
During the heyday of investigative reporting in China’s commercializing media in the early to mid 2000s, the phrase “supervision by public opinion” came to mean for some Chinese journalists something more akin to “watchdog journalism” in the West, with the idea of keeping power in check through reporting. Since 2012, Xi Jinping has moved to rein in these more professional and idealistic strains of “supervision,” emphasizing a more compliant and less oppositional approach in which “supervision by public opinion and positive propaganda are united” (舆论监督和正面宣传是统一的). Critical journalism has been radically restrained, even as the leadership has also stressed the need for internal supervision.
The Shanghai case follows patterns documented in previous alleged cases of news extortion across China.
On June 23, police in Qingpu announced the arrest of a suspect identified only as “Ding” (丁某), who operated a public account identified in official accounts as “X X Safety” (某某安全) — the name redacted, they said, for legal reasons. The account reportedly had 191,000 followers and daily views exceeding 8,000. After leaving his industry job in 2018, said an official release, Ding had leveraged his knowledge of the sector to establish the public account, which “initially focused on publishing industry-related company developments and analytical intelligence, accumulating a certain number of followers,” according to an official release.
Beginning in 2021, however, Ding was allegedly “no longer satisfied with objective reporting” (不再满足于客观报道), according to the police account. He deliberately sought “negative information” (负面信息) about target companies, then manipulated content, they said, through “clickbait headlines” (标题党), misattribution, and deceptive editing, colorfully referred to as “grafting flowers onto trees”( 移花接木). In one case this May, Ding published an article claiming a company had been shut down for illegal activities, then spliced in unrelated video footage from a separate criminal case in another province, creating false associations that damaged the company’s reputation.
Text messages exchanged between Ding and a company seem to show pressure to finalize “cooperation” on condition of dropping coverage.
As described by police, the alleged extortion scheme followed a clear pattern. Ding would first publish damaging content about a company. He would then approach the company offering to sign what he called a “market promotion contract,” which essentially came with a promise to cease coverage. These contracts generally were for between 20,000 and 100,000 yuan annually, or about 2,750 to 14,000 dollars. The fee structure was calibrated, said police, based on a company’s size and “tolerance capacity” (承受能力) — essentially referring to what Ding deemed companies would be able to pay.
Ding’s operation reportedly netted multiple companies, with one executive telling police he was forced to pay over 100,000 yuan annually to stop the attacks, only to face renewed pressure after the expiration of “market promotion” contracts.
This latest case in Shanghai reflects the broader phenomenon of news extortion that has plagued China’s commercialized media landscape since at least the mid-1990s. Despite periodic crackdowns and isolated cases like this one, the practice persists — in large part because it exploits fundamental vulnerabilities in China’s heavily controlled information ecosystem. In this environment, media can have extraordinary power through perceived connections to the state press system, turning this authority to profit, while the media control policies of the Chinese Communist Party normalize the practice of removing “negative” or “sensitive” reporting. At the same time, there are no independent professional associations to advance ethical conduct within the media.
The investigation in Shanghai continues, police say, and Ding likely faces criminal charges for extortion.