Now director of the CMP, leading the project’s research and partnerships, David joined the team in 2004 after completing his master’s degree at Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism. He is currently an honorary lecturer at the Journalism and Media Studies Centre. He is the author of Dragons in Diamond Village (Penguin/Melville House), a book of reportage about urbanization and social activism in China, and co-editor of Investigative Journalism in China (HKU Press).
In a meeting with local media on May 20, Sun Shaocheng (孙绍骋), the Party secretary of Inner Mongolia, emphasized that the news media are the mouthpieces of the Chinese Communist Party – and that they must “speak politics” and uphold “correct guidance of public opinion.”
But in a rare caution against the overuse of Party jargon and sloganeering, Sun also urged media to “change [their] style of writing” (改文风), achieving in practice the goal of “brevity, truth and novelty” (短, 实, 新). “The shorter the reports on my activities, the better,” Sun said. “Letting people know what was done is enough, then more space can be left for the people.”
“Speak the truth, and speak of real things that truly reflect the situation at the grassroots level,” Sun said. “Don’t bother saying those words that even you yourself do not believe.”
These remarks from Sun, who formerly served as deputy governor of Shandong province, are an interesting reflection of the challenges facing Party-state media as they try on the one hand to maintain loyalty to the CCP and to Xi Jinping – loyalty often signaled through dense official-speak – and on the other hand strive to remain relevant to increasingly savvy news consumers.
This is by no means a new issue. From the “news reform” (新闻改革) of the early 1980s, when media sought to throw off the “falsehood, bluster and emptiness” (假大空) of the press during the Cultural Revolution, to the commercialization drive of the 1990s and the “Three Closenesses” of the early 2000s, CCP leaders have sought to have their control and their development too — what could be called “bounded innovation.”
These innovations have always to a great extent been held back by the internal bureaucracy of the Party-led media, and by the imperative of public opinion controls. Officials, like Sun, have spoken periodically over the years about the need to simplify media reporting, or to cut down on dense and alienating rhetoric. But the inescapable fact is that news media in China are tethered like moons to the planet of Party-speak (提法) and its irresistible pull.
Reading China’s press for clues about the internal twists of Chinese politics can be a hazardous business. In July 2018, the Financial Timesreported an “unusual reduction” in mentions of Xi Jinping in the Chinese Communist Party’s official People’s Daily – perhaps a clue to the general secretary’s changing political fortunes. “Last Monday, his name did not appear in any headline on the front page,” the paper reported, “the first such absence in five years, according to a count by independent Hong Kong newspaper Apple Daily.”
The count from Apple Daily was woefully inaccurate. In fact, since November 2012 there had been close to 500 front pages in the People’s Daily absent any mention of “Xi Jinping,” “Chairman Xi” or “general secretary.” In 2013 there had been 111 such front pages, in 2014, 74, and in 2015, 97. The numbers had steadily fallen as an atmosphere of worship had formed around Xi Jinping. In 2016, the year he was designated as the “core” leader, 88 front pages in the People’s Daily failed to mention the man or his titles. In 2017, that number was 73.
The Financial Times cites Apple Daily in July 2018 to note an “unusual reduction” in coverage of Xi Jinping.
Despite reports of an “unusual reduction,” there would be 20 front pages without Xi Jinping in 2018, the year following the 19th National Congress of the CCP. And still the center held. Xi’s power, and the cult of personality surrounding him, only grew.
It is a cautionary tale for the reader of tea leaves, and a tale to bear in mind as we address the reportedly strange and notable happenings this month in the Party’s flagship newspaper.
Significant Absences
According to some close observers of Chinese politics through the news page, Xi Jinping has been less prominent in recent weeks. The basic idea is that while the front page of the People’s Daily has very often in China’s “New Era” been all Xi all of the time, recent pages have played the general secretary down. There are fewer large headlines with his name, and there are fewer photographs as well. And in some cases he has been absent altogether.
There was even talk this week that Xi Jinping might have pulled back from public engagements, that he had not been seen since May 10. Adding fuel to the speculative fever were reported rumors on Chinese social media that the general secretary might be stepping down following harsh criticism of his alleged mismanagement of Covid-19. Alternatively, according to reports on the sketchy margins of the global media, he was suffering from a brain aneurysm.
Or, had Xi perhaps been sidelined by other senior officials as he championed – as was clear at the May 5 Politburo Standing Committee meeting – a “zero Covid” policy that many Chinese have found painful, and which has had deep economic ramifications? This has been a popular narrative in some Chinese-language outlets outside mainland China, which have suggested that Premier Li Keqiang (李克强) is enjoying a moment of ascendance, perhaps alongside PSC members like Wang Yang (汪洋).
Both Li and Wang were relatively prominent on the front page of Tuesday’s edition of the People’s Daily, with headlines about Li having a call with Pakistani Premier Shahbaz Sharif, and Wang Yang holding a meeting of the National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC). The top article under the masthead stressed the importance of a stable market economy, an issue right in the premier’s wheelhouse. But there was no mention in the headlines of Xi Jinping.
No Xi Jinping on the front page of the Tuesday edition of the People’s Daily? What can it mean? Possibly: nothing.
Speculation was rife on Chinese social media too. Sharing the People’s Daily front page the same day, the former editor-in-chief of the Global Times newspaper, Hu Xijin, noted the importance of the focus on a stable economy, but seemed to point to signals in the leadership as well. “This is a very important signal,” he wrote. “[Those who] follow this signal, abandon doubt and uncertainty, and embrace new opportunities, will prove to be the true business heroes, and the heroes of our time.”
Hu’s reference to opportunities could be read as “person of new opportunities” (新的机遇者), and given the page’s apparent favoring of Li Keqiang, a strong supporter of the market economy, some assumed that this was nod in favor of Li, feeding further speculation of a change in priorities at the top of the leadership.
Hu Xijin’s Weibo post on May 17 about new opportunities, sharing a People’s Daily front page absent mention of Xi Jinping.
Speculation deepened on Wednesday, as Xi Jinping was once again absent from the front page of the People’s Daily. One article in an overseas Chinese outlet announced a “sudden change in the political scene of the Chinese Communist Party.” The article also cited as evidence the fact that on May 14 the newspaper had published in full a speech Li had delivered nearly three weeks earlier, on April 25, about anti-corruption work as the foundation of strong future economic development. The same speech was also posted online by Xinhua.
For a moment, let’s take a breath. And let’s look more closely at the observations that began so many of these speculative readings — hinging on the key question of whether Xi Jinping is prominent or absent on the front page of the Party’s flagship newspaper.
It is certainly true that such absences can be significant. But the false reports in 2018 of an “unusual reduction” should encourage a bit more skepticism. Even if we count them correctly, how much stock should we place in such absences? How much do we need to not see of Xi before we begin to suspect profound shifts in Chinese politics?
As the abovementioned tally of absences through 2018 suggests, it was already typical by 2016 and 2017 to expect on average about 6-7 front pages without Xi Jinping in any given month. In 2018, there were on average just 1.6 front pages without Xi per month. Since the 19th National Congress of the CCP in October 2018, however, we can typically expect, according to CMP’s observations, 3 or 4 absences in any given month.
More than five absences for Xi from the People’s Daily front page in a given month would be something unusual, and this is especially the case with the approach of the 20th National Congress this fall, which should usher in wave after wave of promotion of the top leader and his ideas, policies and speeches.
Next, what exactly counts as an absence? Typically, we should be looking for any front page that does not include Xi’s full name, “general secretary” or “Chairman Xi” in a main headline (主标题), a subhead (副标题), or a column header (栏目题).
Looking carefully at People’s Daily front pages with the use of full-resolution PDF versions that allow us to see the fine print – yes, this is where CCP discourse takes us – here is what we come up with so far for May. The papers with red stars are those that do include Xi Jinping or a related reference.
People’s Daily front pages from May 1-10, pages listed from left to right, first top row and then second row.
People’s Daily front pages from May 11-19, pages listed from left to right, first top row and then second row.
So as of today, May 19, through just 61 percent of People’s Daily front pages we can expect for the month, we have four days on which Xi Jinping was absent. These were May 3, May 8, May 17 and May 18.
According to the rough benchmark mentioned above – five pages in any given month – it is distinctly possible that Xi’s absences will be one data point to watch closely into June, along with other possible signals. Another measure, for those fascinated with the shifts to be glimpsed in the pages of Party newspapers, could be the total number of articles for May mentioning various leaders on the Politburo Standing Committee. According to this measure, Xi Jinping has been the far-and-away favorite for years running, dwarfing not-even-close seconds like Premier Li. If that gap were to close in any noticeable way, that would certainly be significant.
But for those concerned by speculation about Xi Jinping’s slip from the front page, there is good news. Xi is back in the People’s Daily with a vengeance today, his name fronting all four of the top headlines. Once again, we have bright red images of the top man, beaming out over a conference on international trade.
The front page of today’s edition of the People’s Daily.
Down below, huddling under the crushing weight of the bold headlines above, we can find Li Keqiang in two faint sub-heads, one directly under a main headline that includes Xi.
China watchers are certainly right to keep a careful eye trained on the visual signals beamed out from the pages of the People’s Daily. But the signals abound, and confuse.
As festivities for the Beijing Winter Olympics kicked off earlier this year, the WHO’s director general, Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, was the toast of the town in China’s capital. On February 5, the day after attending the opening ceremony of the Games with other foreign dignitaries, he was formally welcomed by Premier Li Keqiang at the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse. The next day he met with China’s foreign minister, Wang Yi (王毅), and the official People’s Daily quoted him as having praised the sporting event for “bringing unity, peace and hope to the world under the pandemic,” and for “helping everyone get through these difficult times.”
Three months later, Tedros is out in the cold. At a WHO press briefing on Tuesday, just five days after Xi Jinping signaled the leadership’s adamant resistance to any change in China’s Covid policy, the health official urged China to reconsider. “When we talk about the zero COVID strategy, we don’t think that it is sustainable considering the behavior of the virus now and what we anticipate in the future, and especially when we have now a good knowledge, understanding of the virus,” he said. “When we have good tools to use, transiting into another strategy will be very important.”
Tedros’ remarks were swiftly censored on Chinese social media, and state media have steered clear of the story. A search for coverage of “Tedros” (谭德塞) in a database of more than 300 mainland Chinese newspapers from May 10 to May 13 returns just one report from the Global Times newspaper, printed on page three of yesterday’s edition. The story, “Foreign Ministry Responds to Tedros’ Views” (外交部回应谭德塞看法), which first appeared online on May 11, is a simple reporting of a statement that day by Foreign Ministry Spokesman Zhao Lijian (赵立坚), who emphasized the efficiency of China’s “surgical lockdown” and suggested that criticisms of its policy were “irresponsible.”
The only other report on Tedros from China’s state media is an online story from the Global Times alleging that foreign media, including Reuters, willfully took the remarks of WHO officials out of context this week. The story suggests that another WHO expert expressed sympathy during the press briefing with China’s “zero Covid” policy given its immense population. In fact, no such language appears in the official WHO transcript – though Mike Ryan, executive director of the WHO’s Health Emergencies Program, did follow on Tedros’ remarks by saying that all government efforts to fight Covid-19 “should show due respect to individual and human rights.”
There has been no mention of Tedros in the past week by the official Xinhua News Agency, according to a search of the agency’s website. Searches on Weibo now turn up just a smattering of private posts, but nothing from the official accounts of Chinese state media.
It is a revealing change of fortune for a public figure who over the past two years has been touted again and again by state outlets to support China’s Covid policies. Tedros, now voicing mild and constructive criticism of China’s policies, can no longer be taken at his word.
Cherry-Picking Positivity
On May 6, the day after the meeting of the Politburo Standing Committee at which Xi Jinping signaled his resolve in sticking to “zero Covid,” Tedros was quoted repeatedly in the official People’s Daily newspaper. An “International Viewpoint” column called “Continuously Monitoring the Virus, Strengthening Prevention and Control” quoted Tedros calling on all countries to continue monitoring of Covid-19 and “not to turn a blind eye in the face of a deadly virus.” Here was the world’s top health official seeming to echo Xi’s resolve.
Tedros’ words conveyed a sense of uncertainty that seemed to justify persistence — now a favored buzzword — in dealing with Covid-19. “The threat of virus variants is very real. It remains unclear what the long-term impact of Covid infection will be,” the People’s Daily quoted the director-general as saying.
Dialing back to April, as Shanghai residents struggled, often angrily, with the effects of stringent lockdown policies, Tedros’ words again cautioned vigilance. A report in the People’s Daily read: “Countries are reporting fewer deaths, but the Covid pandemic is far from over, said WHO Director-General Tedros at a recent briefing.”
Throughout 2021, as through much of the global pandemic, Chinese state media eagerly quoted Tedros as they touted the country’s achievements and window-dressed its claims to systemic superiority.
In an article on January 9, 2021, the People’s Daily looked back on 2020 and argued for the superiority of the Chinese political system in facing the immense challenge of the pandemic. “One important aspect of measuring the success and superiority of a country’s system is its ability to call on all sides and organize all parties to respond together in the face of major risks and challenges,” the paper said.
Immediately after came a sprinkling of remarks from foreigners, a staple of propaganda reports in the Party-state media. First up was Tedros:
Tedros, director-general of the World Health Organization, exclaimed: ‘Never in my life have I seen such mobilization!’ A foreign scholar remarked: ‘The strategic, holistic, forward-looking nature of the Chinese system and its ability to mobilize national resources is unmatched by any other system.’
How many doctoral theses could be written on the deep ambivalence the Chinese Party-state media system has toward the foreign voice?
Spanish Ambassador to China Alberto Carnero Fernández is asked the loaded question in 2018: “What positive impacts has the Belt and Road Initiative had on the countries involved?”
On the one hand, the foreign voice is the truly authoritative voice, giving credibility to the claims of those in power. If Tedros speaks the Party’s convictions, then they must be legitimate. If a Western survey says Chinese people are happy their government, this must be demonstrably true. Behind this odd complex is the unfortunate fact that China has few truly credible voices – for the simple reason that its journalists and intellectuals cannot speak their minds. Propaganda reports brim with cherry-picked quotes from opposition politicians in Europe, “foreign scholars” and self-proclaimed experts of such dubious origin that their ideas can only be found in China Daily or on CGTN, or unwitting diplomats or other figures, like Tedros, whose odd remark can be plucked out of context like a bright piece of pro-China confetti.
On the other hand, the foreign voice is fundamentally illegitimate. It cannot understand China, which is too large and complex, subject to its own mysterious “national circumstances.” The foreign voice is biased and selective, one more brick in an unbroken wall of foreign conspiracy to “blacken China” and “demonize” its government. In its most recent criticism of “foreign media” (外媒), the Global Times – which, mind you, would gladly quote The New York Times to sharpen the blade of an invective – had to claim that the WHO press briefing was “taken out of context” (断章取义).
Commenting under one of the handful of posts on Tedros’ comments to circulate on Weibo, one user expressed the ambivalence this way: “Those who have had their cities sealed off think that Tedros is being too polite, while those whose cities have not been sealed off think Tedros is meddling in [China’s] internal affairs. Actually, Chinese people don’t truly love Chinese people. They simply express their patriotism from the standpoint of the rulers. As soon as they see criticism from outsiders, they immediately react, regardless of whether they are right or wrong.”
Whatever the roots of this ambivalence, Tedros has spoken his mind. And no longer — at least for the moment — are his words of any use to those in power.
In a speech this week marking the centenary of the Chinese Communist Youth League, the country’s official youth movement, Xi Jinping emphasized that it was the league’s mission to “go unswervingly with the Party.” To this end, he said, the league must “persist in grooming [young] people for the Party,” ensuring the loyalty and dedication of the next generation.
But even as the Party’s general secretary sought to inspire youth leaders with the past, recalling Mao Zedong’s words about the youth “spirit of struggle” (斗争精神), he sought to shape the dominant view of the history to firm up the foundation of his power.
When Xi Jinping reaches the section in his speech summing up the history of the CCP over the past century, he neatly outlines four distinct stages. While the first three, spanning the rule of Mao Zedong and reform and opening, are introduced as “periods,” the last, demarking Xi’s own rule, is referred to as the “New Era.”
Screenshot of Xi Jinping’s speech in the state media, with reference to three “periods” of CCP history, and one “New Era.”
The difference between the “period,” or shiqi (时期), and the “era,” or shidai (时代), might seem incidental at first. But the two are markedly different. In English, the word “era” has a clearer sense of denoting a period of time as being in some sense momentous, and in Chinese this sense is further deepened. A period is a calendar page. An era is an epic scroll painting.
Xi Jinping’s retelling of history for China’s youth, mirroring the interpretation given in the November 2021 resolution, refers to the first period as that of the New Democratic Revolution (新民主主义革命), covering the Chinese Civil War from the 1920s up to the founding of the People’s Republic of China. The second period is that of “socialist revolution and construction” (社会主义革命和建设), covering the time from the founding of the PRC up to the Third Plenum of the 11th CCP Central Committee in 1978, which marked the start of the reform and opening policy.
The third period, that of “reform and opening and socialist modernization construction” (改革开放和社会主义现代化建设), is a storage bin Xi Jinping uses to pack away the achievements of all three of his post-Mao predecessors, Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao. No longer is Deng singled out as an inspirational leader, the architect of reforms. To appropriate Deng’s own words, he is but one of several stones used to cross the river. And on the other side lies the promised land of Xi’s era, the “New Era of Socialism With Chinese Characteristics” (中国特色社会主义新时代), a phrasing that simultaneously invokes Xi’s banner term. This is essentially an act of self-crowning, in which the general secretary asserts his dominance not just over any current rivals, but also claims himself as a culmination of China’s modern political history.
A great dream, a great mission, and the masses of youth members have taken up the great responsibility going deeper into the grassroots on the front line. The youth have blossomed into the dream of the great rejuvenation of the Chinese people.
There are nine references in all in the speech to the “New Era,” all but one of these coming in the final section. Several are references to the “Chinese youth of the New Era” (新时代中国青少年), a phrase that neatly braids together Xi’s personal ambitions and the Party’s future. At one point, Xi even references the phrase guozhidazhe (国之大者), which can be translated “matters of national importance,” but can also be taken ambiguously as a reference to Xi himself as the big man.
“The Communist Youth League should unite and lead the youth to be the tide of the New Era, consciously heeding the call of the Party and the people,” he says, “with the ‘matters of national importance’ in mind, taking up the mission and the task, reaching the new horizon of the New Era, where they can realize their ambitions.”
In sum, the future of China’s youth is certainly to be grasped by the youth. But it is first and foremost a matter to be decided by the Party under Xi’s leadership.
Just over a decade ago, veteran journalist Luo Changping (罗昌平), then deputy editor-in-chief of one of China’s most influential magazines, was a stand-out example of the best in Chinese journalism – a professional dedicated to the facts and to the hard-nosed techniques needed to ferret them out in a challenging environment. In November 2013, his work exposing official corruption earned him back-to-back international and domestic honors, first the “Integrity Award” from Transparency International, and later the China Hero Award from NetEase.
But the days are long gone when journalists in China can be openly lauded as heroes for asking hard questions about those in positions of power. On May 5, Luo Changping was sentenced to a seven-month prison term for “infringing the reputation and honor of national heroes and martyrs.” His punishment is a potent illustration of how profoundly values have shifted in Chinese media and society under the iron-fisted rule of Xi Jinping.
Luo’s sentencing comes almost exactly seven months after he was summoned by police on October 7, 2021, after making several posts to Weibo in which he questioned China’s role in the Korean War as depicted in a blockbuster propaganda film called The Battle at Lake Changjin (长津湖). Commissioned by the Central Propaganda Department of the Chinese Communist Party, the film is a cloying war epic glorifying the deeds of the Chinese People’s Volunteers (CPV) at the outset of the Korean War in 1950, as they faced off against an American-led United Nations force near at the Chosin Reservoir, about 100 kilometers south of the current border of China and North Korea along the Yalu River.
The real facts behind what Americans call the Battle of Chosin Reservoir are more tragic than glorious. But even when fictionalized to the point of absurdity, the Party’s version of the truth is not to be questioned. In October last year the film was a core feature of official commemorations of the Party’s centennial, and by design it became a national craze, raking in hundreds of millions of dollars. The miseries facing the People’s Volunteers during that bitter winter 72 years ago, as they waited in vain for the delivery of even basic winter uniforms, were uplifted as dazzling sacrifices for the communist cause. Chinese schoolchildren screening the film were given frozen potatoes to eat so that they could appreciate the toughness of the so-called “ice sculpture company” (冰雕连), the thousands of soldiers who eventually froze to death that winter. Videos of filmgoers eating frozen potatoes – even at the cost of lost teeth – proliferated on social media.
The days are long gone when journalists in China can be openly lauded as heroes for asking hard questions about those in positions of power.
Addressing this wave of national foolishness, Luo did the unthinkable. In a post on October 6, 2021, he questioned the authenticity of the film’s treatment of history, even referring to the “ice sculpture company” as depicted in the film as the “foolish sculpture company” (沙雕连).
Luo’s clear intention with this remark was to highlight the plain stupidity of one scene in the film in particular, in which a detachment of American soldiers comes across Chinese volunteers literally frozen into their battlefront positions, snowflakes dusting faces set like wax museum sculptures. Soaring music plays as the camera sweeps across the line of dead soldiers still gripping their rifles, and we see the American general, Oliver P. Smith, visibly moved by the display. He salutes, and then says: “Fighting against men with such strong will like this, we were not ordained to win.”
For viewers not desensitized to China’s overwrought propaganda, this scene, like so many others in The Battle at Changjin Lake, is hyperbole so outlandish it might easily prompt laughter. From a purely creative standpoint, it hardly seems an unfairness to call the scene “foolish.” Is there really a better word? The temptation to humor, so at odds with the intended reverence, was duly noted by international critics. As Phil Hoad, reviewing the film for The Guardian, wrote: “It’s straight-up propaganda – almost comedically so at times.”
Puncturing the inflated mythologies surrounding the Battle of Changjin Lake, and their shameless mobilization to legitimize CCP power in the 21st century, could be regarded as an act honoring the lives of the thousands of men who were asked to face bitter winter against a well-equipped enemy with only thin cotton uniforms and simple canvas shoes.
But in Xi Jinping’s China the lines are clear. Heroes are heroes. Martyrs are martyrs. The Party’s vision of history must be commemorated with a teary eye, and perhaps even a broken tooth. And the crime of “historical nihilism” must be eradicated with the tool of the law. Luo Changping’s questions came in the face of a law introduced in 2018 on the protection of heroes and martyrs that seeks to propagate the spirit of patriotism and sacrifice, and “stimulate strong spiritual power in achieving the Chinese dream of great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation.”
After being summoned by police on October 7, the day after his allegedly defamatory remarks, Luo deleted his posts and issued a public apology through WeChat. The court decision notes this fact as a sign of contrition on Luo’s part, but also makes clear that the content had already by that point “been widely disseminated on the internet, triggering strong public outrage and having a deleterious social impact.”
A decade ago in China, questioning established truths was an act of heroism that merited recognition. It was possible, even in the face of Party controls on the press, for journalists to explore the secrets lurking in the Party’s fictionalized past, and to expose acts of corruption that had been plastered over with myth-making. A journalist like Luo Changping could proudly address young, aspiring journalists on the art of pursuing the facts, as he did in his November 2011 lecture at Beijing Foreign Studies University, titled “How Caijing Investigates.”
In Xi Jinping’s China the lines are clear. Heroes are heroes. Martyrs are martyrs. The Party’s vision of history must be commemorated with a teary eye, and perhaps even a broken tooth.
But by November 2013 the terrain for journalism had fundamentally changed. By the time Luo was honored with Transparency International’s “Integrity Award,” a chill had already swept through Chinese journalism. Ten months earlier, propaganda officials in Guangdong had effectively tamed Southern Weekly, long a vanguard of in-depth, factual reporting in a challenging political environment. April had brought a high-level Party directive with a shortlist of strict prohibitions that included “the West’s idea of journalism,” stressing that no challenge would be permitted to the notion that “the media and publishing system should be subject to Party discipline.”
On November 27, 2013, the day after Luo received the China Hero Award from Netease, having been chosen by internet users for his reporting on official corruption, news came that he had been forcibly transferred from his senior position at Caijing for skirting censorship guidelines. In another act of heroism that month, he had posted his latest corruption scoop to social media. Facing strong pressure from the authorities, Luo quit journalism altogether the next year.
In the years since Luo Changping’s departure from journalism, the space has narrowed substantially for those small acts of heroism by which Chinese seek to hold officials to account. Heroism is an act of sacrifice frozen into the landscape of the Party’s past. In the present, meanwhile, the only acceptable act is obedience to the Party’s version of history, and to the narrative of national rejuvenation.
Mandating his public capitulation to falsehood, Luo Changping was ordered by the court in Hainan to issue a written apology through Sina.com, the Legal Daily and the People’s Liberation Army Daily. But perhaps most poignant for the past recipient of the China Hero Award was the demand he pay 80,000-yuan in “public interest damage compensation” to a memorial in Dandong, Liaoning province, the “hero city” along the Yalu River from which tens of thousands of volunteer fighters crossed into Korea more than 70 years ago.
These are chilling plot twists in a very real saga for China’s journalists. But for heroes like Luo Changping, the front has become bitterly cold.
Topping page one in the CCP’s People’s Daily today is the official Xinhua News Agency readout on the meeting of the Politburo Standing Committee to study the covid prevention and control situation, which was published online late yesterday. The meeting was a powerful affirmation of the “dynamic zero-covid” policy China has pursued since 2020, and the readout is dominated by words like “persistence” and “unshakeable.”
The word “persistence” appears three times at the very top of the readout:
The meeting pointed out that since the onset of the covid epidemic, we have persisted in people first and life first, we have persisted in defense against import [of the virus] and against internal recurrence, we have persisted in dynamic zero, and therefore significant strategic results in prevention and control have been achieved through constant adjustment of prevention and control measures.
Further down in the readout is language about “unwaveringly persisting in the general policy of ‘dynamic zero,’” and immediately after comes the phrase “persistence is victory” (坚持就是胜利), which CMP analyzed yesterday as a recent focus in official CCP discourse of late.
The front page of the May 6, 2022, edition of the People’s Daily.
The language about “unwavering persistence” (毫不动摇坚持), linked to the notion of persistence as victory, provides the foundation for a page two commentary in the People’s Daily attributed to “a commentator from this paper,” or benbao pinglunyuan (本报评论员), marking it as a staff-written piece representing views in the senior leadership.
The commentary starts off with the same triple use of “persistence” that appears in the Politburo meeting readout, but this time language is included about Xi Jinping as the “core” leader of the Party. The phrase “persisting in dynamic zero” then appears three times in the commentary, followed by the hyperbolic triple persistence line CMP covered in yesterday’s analysis: “Persistence is victory! Only by persisting can there be victory! Persistence will definitely bring victory!”
Beyond the message of persistence in the zero-covid policy, we should note language in the readout, commentary and last night’s official Xinwen Lianbo (新闻联播) newscast about “resolutely overcoming lack of awareness, lack of preparation, insufficient work and other problems, and resolutely overcoming contempt, indifference, self-righteousness and other [trends] in thinking.” This language should be read as a direct criticism of unspecified local CCP leaders who have questioned the policies at the center, or who have been insufficiently successful in applying them. And it is difficult not to hear in this phrase about “self-righteousness” (自以为是) a condemnation of leaders in Shanghai in particular.
The resolve to “persist” in the dynamic zero approach comes also with the message that dissent over the policy will not be tolerated. The readout notes that the Party must “resolutely struggle against all distortions, doubts and denials of our epidemic prevention policy.”
Millions of residents forcibly confined to their homes – sometimes even welded inside – even as they are dangerously low on food and other essential goods. Helpline operators helpless to answer pleas for urgent assistance from the injured and the starving. Most recently, an elderly patient dispatched to the local morgue before response teams realize he is still alive.
The horrors facing Shanghai’s population under the inflexibility of China’s “dynamic” zero-covid (动态清零) strategy during a month-long lockdown have been painfully obvious, documented through an outpouring of anger that has spilled onto social media platforms. But despite these failings and their real costs, China’s Communist Party leadership has defended the zero-covid approach.
For more than two years, the CCP has touted the wisdom of its covid response as the most salient proof of the superiority of the Chinese political system. And with the 20th National Congress just around the corner, there is apparently too much on the line for the Party and its charismatic leader, Xi Jinping, to reconsider. Under the invisible rules of power politics, policies may be “dynamic,” but they cannot be flexible.
As the Party has doubled-down on zero-covid, one familiar phrase from the CCP’s revolutionary past has dominated the headlines: “Persistence is victory” (坚持就是胜利).
Persisting in the Revolution
This phrase first emerged in the decade from 1927 to 1937, as the forces of the Chinese Communist Party battled against Kuomintang forces during the Chinese Civil War. “Persistence is victory” was a battle cry used to mobilize fighters in revolutionary base areas. An article in the People’s Daily in 1951 traced the phrase back to 1933, delivered as policy direction to a local communist commander whose forces were surrounded by the enemy.
The phrase continued in use in the early years of the People’s Republic of China (PRC), conveying a sense of resolute progress in the midst of adversity. In an address to the first National People’s Congress in September 1954, one delegate characterized difficulties as a test of the Party as it sought to govern: “Persistence is victory, and with determination we can succeed,” he said (People’s Daily, September 17, 1954).
Use of the phrase rose dramatically during the Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976, when it rallied the masses around Mao Zedong’s notion of continuous revolution. In his memoir, published in 2005, Chen Pixian (陈丕显), the revolutionary and former CCP chief in Shanghai who was purged during the Cultural Revolution and later rehabilitated, recalled how he had sought the assistance of top Party leaders in Beijing as the revolutionary fervor spiraled out of control in Shanghai toward the close of 1966. In January 1967, Chen spoke by phone with Tao Zhu (陶铸), then number-four in the central leadership. Tao words were: “Summed up in one line, persistence is victory!”
Chen waited in vain for a reversal of Mao’s decision on the Cultural Revolution, which he had thought would last for only a few months. Within weeks he had been ousted and placed in solitary confinement. “Persistence is victory” became one of the core slogans driving forward the chaos of the Cultural Revolution and the purge of those who opposed Mao’s policies. The mechanics of raw power and violence were couched in the rhetoric of persisting struggle against the foes of communism.
On May 24, 1968, the People’s Daily reported on “mass demonstrations” held in more than 20 Chinese cities to protest crackdowns on civil unrest in France in May 1968. The paper characterized the revolution of the proletariat as an unstoppable force. “True power lies not with the reactionaries, but with the people,” it wrote. “The commanders and combatants of the broad revolutionary masses and the People’s Liberation Army have said that unity is strength, and persistence is victory.”
Persisting in Xi’s Approach
The phrase “persistence is victory,” seldom used in the reform era, reemerged back in mid-March as a means of signaling strict and resolute adherence to Xi Jinping’s zero-covid strategy.
In an official release on March 18, relaying the content of the meeting of the Politburo Standing Committee the day before, Xinhua reported that Xi Jinping had made an “important speech” urging strict adherence to the zero-covid strategy nationwide. The article, which in the People’s Daily bore the headline, “No Pause in the Fight Against the Epidemic, Persistence is Victory,” repeatedly used the word “persistence,” and ended with the soaring line: “In clearing away the fog of the covid epidemic, and promoting economic and social recovery and development, let us join hands in implementing the spirit of General Secretary Xi Jinping’s important speech — persistence is victory!”
An official release on resolutely following Xi’s direction on the zero-covid policy appears at the top of page 2 of the People’s Daily on March 18.
By the end of the first week of April residents in Shanghai were running out of food, and anger was boiling over in the city over the pain caused not by the virus but by lockdown policies themselves. But while on an inspection tour of Hainan from April 10-13, Xi Jinping again signaled confidence and resolve in the zero-covid policy.
A wave of use of the slogan “persistence is victory” came on April 14, as a wide range of Party-state media reported on remarks Xi made while on his inspection tour. “Xi Jinping pointed out that right now, as the covid pandemic situation remains serious worldwide, we cannot relax prevention and control work. Persistence is victory,” read the final paragraph of a story published as front-page news in many Party-run regional and national newspapers on April 14.
The phrase featured in seven articles in the People’s Daily in April, as the situation in Shanghai grew increasingly desperate. The most prominent was a page-one appearance on April 15, even as news of elderly deaths and violent quarantine clashes dominated media outside China. “Persistence is Victory,” read the headline of a piece by “this paper’s commentary writer” (本报评论员), indicating that it represented the view of the paper, and likely by extension the consensus view of the CCP’s central leadership.
The commentary argued for the insuperable wisdom of the “dynamic zero” approach in light of China’s vast population and unique circumstances, and said that the decisive control of the virus was “a major matter not to be relaxed” (不可放松的大事). In its opening line the commentary doffed its hat again to Xi Jinping’s remarks during the Hainan tour.
Page one of the April 15, 2022, edition of the People’s Daily, with “Persistence is Victory” commentary at bottom right.
The cry was taken up through April by scores of Party-state media and commercial outlets. On April 21, scores of Party-run media, including such regional Party papers as Hubei Daily, Gansu Daily, Shantou Daily and Shanghai’s Wenhui Daily, all ran a Xinhua news release called “Consolidate the Enterprise Stabilization Trend, Persistence is Victory” (巩固企稳态势, 坚持就是胜利), which reported that the covid situation in Jilin province was stabilizing and that “Shanghai’s epidemic prevention and control has reached a critical stage.” The release said that great efforts were being made to ensure that economic activity continued, noting that “the whole country is scrambling to resume work and production.”
The “Creative Poster Commandos” (创意海报突击队) division of Xinhua News Agency, which emerged in 2020 amidst the rise of the global pandemic to create modern-day propaganda posters amidst the outbreak in Wuhan, produced special posters for the fight against covid in Shanghai making use of the “persistence is victory” slogan.
Propaganda posters by Xinhua’s “Creative Poster Commandos” division. At left, an April 2022 poster for the epidemic in Shanghai reading, “Persistence is victory.” At right, a poster from March 2020 about the Wuhan outbreak, the image of a nurse that reads: “I am not the god of thunder, I too will cry.” The reference to the “god of thunder” is a play on the name of the Leishenshan Hospital, a specialty field hospital created to respond to the outbreak.
Even as the situation grew desperate in Shanghai in late April, the official language of persistence with zero-covid continued. A Xinhua release published in the Shenzhen Special Zone Daily on April 24 bore the headline: “Shanghai, Add Oil!” (上海，加油!). The article gave no indication whatsoever of the misery facing Shanghai residents, but ended with absurdly hyperbolic resolve: “Persistence is victory! Only by persisting can there be victory! Persistence will definitely bring victory! Shanghai, add oil!”
The same triad of persistence has persisted into May. In a page-two article yesterday in the People’s Daily, the situation since mid-March was portrayed as evidence of unmitigated success, despite growing and irrepressible discontent in Shanghai.
“Unshakably Persisting in ‘Dynamic Zero’,” read on section header in the article. The conclusion rejected any possibility for a more flexible approach to the spread of covid, even as curbs were stepped up in Beijing, leaving residents on edge over a possible repeat of the dysfunctions that crippled Shanghai. “At present, Shanghai is still in a critical period of continuous attack on the prevention and control of the epidemic,” the article said. “The Shanghai Municipal Party Committee has said it will resolutely implement the spirit of General Secretary Xi Jinping’s important instructions, adhering to the general policy of ‘dynamic zero’ without wavering, making every effort to win the battle of epidemic prevention and control.”
“Persistence is victory! Only by persisting can there be victory! Persistence will definitely bring victory!”
This week “News Report Frontline” (新闻一线), an audio program produced by The Beijing News, brought together a state media program host and a communications scholar to discuss respect and professionalism in the context of the television news interview. The program’s news hook was an interview back in March with China’s ambassador to the United States, Qin Gang (秦刚), who spoke for nine somewhat testy minutes with Margaret Brennan, the host of CBS’ “Face the Nation,” about China’s position on the war in Ukraine.
Far from clarifying standards of journalistic professionalism, the discussion at “News Report Frontline” was the culmination of the month-long amplification of a misleading news frame, and a textbook lesson in how China’s state-run media have sought to deflect core questions about China and its position on the Ukraine war.
“Let Me Continue”
The Qin-Brennan interview, which aired on March 20, 2022, dealt with several basic questions. Does China intend to provide material or policy support to Russia? Why hasn’t China been clear in condemning the invasion? Does China actually intend to exert its influence on Russia for the sake of peace – given its insistence that its “trust relations” (as Qin calls them) place its government in a “unique position” (also Qin’s words)?
Brennan was hard-nosed and insistent throughout the interview, and at times there was the gleam of impatience in her eyes. But she was never, by any reasonable journalistic standard, unprofessional. She fought to keep the interview flowing with an Ambassador Qin who often spoke with a molasses ooze as he stuck to official Chinese talking points. He was an interviewee who needed prodding, and who certainly needed challenging.
For his part, Qin managed to push through tension that cut both ways. At one point, after he pointed to peace talks as evidence of progress, and as Brennan was on point of interjecting, he managed to head her off, saying, “Let me continue.” He plodded on with another point about China’s “trusted relations with Russia” being an asset, making the assertion that China is “part of the solution.” This was a reasonable point for Brennan to cut in, and she did so with a follow-up: “So are you saying, though, just so we’re clear, are you saying Beijing will not provide financial support to Moscow to prolong this war?”
Counting on Western Media Bias
But viewed through the lens of China’s state media, the exchange on “Face the Nation” was never about the issues. Within hours of the interview’s release, the dominant frame centered on Margaret Brennan’s appalling manners – her deficient suzhi (素质), or the sum of her attitude and ideas as evinced in her conduct. And the evidence of her deficiency was the appalling number of times that she had dared to interrupt the ambassador: 23 times in just 9 minutes.
A March 21 Weibo post from the Global Times newspaper includes the hashtag “#ChineseAmbassadorInterrupted23TimesByHostIn9Minutes#.
As word of the “Face the Nation” interview proliferated across Chinese social media platforms, 9/23 was far and away the dominant meme. In the way that all numbers are magical in the world of CCP propaganda – so that the sheer number of websites can be laid down as proof that expression is free – the number 23 spoke its own truth. 9 minutes divided by 23 interruptions equals 1 indignity every 39 seconds. How, then, could Brennan’s interview not be a national insult, and proof positive that the Western media are a crucible of lies?
A search for the phrase “Interrupted 23 times” (打断23次) on Weibo turns up numerous March posts from Chinese state media accounts that allege unprofessionalism on the part of the Brennan. There is also a dedicated hashtag to the topic, generated by the Global Times, that calls up related posts by a wide array of state media outlets and official accounts from Party-state organs: Global Times, China Daily, the Liaoning Chapter of the Chinese Communist Youth League, Shanghai Media Group, CGTN Radio, Huashang Daily (Shaanxi province), and so on.
Use of the #ChineseAmbassadorInterrupted23TimesByHostIn9Minutes# hashtag by various accounts linked to Chinese state media.
Of the scores of official social media accounts posting about the Brennan interview, which included several edited versions with interruption counts, the number was always 23. No one counted 21, 22 or 24 interruptions.
Dominant across most social media channels was the video version produced by the Global Times, shortened to interrupt the flow and enhance the sense of interruption by Brennan. As the official Weibo account of the Global Times shared the interview on March 21, Brennan’s 23 interruptions were right up front:
Qin Gang was interrupted 23 times in 9 minutes. Chinese Ambassador to the U.S. Qin Gang was interviewed live on CBS’s “Face the Nation” program on March 20, introducing to American audiences the situation of the Sino-US summit call on March 18, and elaborating on the most important issue for American people: China’s position on the Ukraine issue.
The video included with the Global Times post accentuated the points of supposed interruption, with bright yellow characters popping up on the screen to indicate “first interruption,” “second interruption” and so on.
In the Global Times post and other posts from state media, the overall frame was crystal clear: Brennan’s inexcusable conduct was yet another illustration of the arrogance, bias and prejudice of US and Western media, and evidence of a conspiracy to criticize China and shift the blame on Ukraine.
A post to the official Weibo account of Shanghai’s Xinmin Weekly began: “Qin Gang is ‘treated differently’ as a guest on top American program, interrupted 23 times in 9 minutes!” When, more than two weeks later, the official account of the international news desk at Xinhua News Agency shared the story again, it was as part of a series of commentaries on the theme, “Total shamelessness in cheering for US hegemony” (为美国霸权摇旗呐喊毫无操守).
But what if we poke at the foundations of this imposing tower of coverage on a simple point of hyper-sensitivity? Were these interruptions actually interruptions?
Keeping Score for the State Agenda
View the Brennan interview without these guiding labels and framing and most of the supposed interruptions cited by the Global Times and other state media are contestable. The first two interruptions are clearly interjections, neither of which interrupt the flow of Qin’s speech – unless one simply assumes he has a right to speak without interdiction or direction from the program host.
The first “interruption” comes as Qin says: “We are promoting peace talks and we are sending humanitarian assistance.” Speaking with laborious slowness, Qin is perhaps on the cusp of making a further remark. Instead, Brennan interjects: “Will you send money and weapons to Russia, though?”
Does this constitute an interruption? Is it unprofessional?
On the first question, Qin has already made a complete point, that China has provided humanitarian assistance. It is a highly subjective reading to view Brennan’s relevant follow-up question, in the midst of what seems a natural pause during a short interview on a heated issue, as an interruption. On the second point, is it not wholly appropriate for Brennan to seek clarification on what is after all the key point of the interview, whether or not China has directly or indirectly supported Russia’s aggression against Ukraine?
The alleged “first interruption” of Qin Gang by Brennan occurs 16 seconds into the interview. “Will you send money and weapons to Russia, though?” Brennan asks.
The second “interruption” occurs as Qin alleges disinformation about whether China has provided military assistance to Russia. “We reject that,” he says. Brennan begins again to interject. But once again, Qin has made a complete point here, on which the host understandably seeks clarification. “You won’t do so, Beijing will not?” she asks. But we are dealing with magical numbers, and with hyper-sensitive nerves, and so the damning count pops up on the video once again: “Two interruptions.”
And what about the rest of the dialogue?
Viewing the entire interview as posted to the “Face the Nation” YouTube channel, I counted 27 points in the interview on which the question of interruption might possibly arise – according, mind you, to the absolute lowest bar. I invited myself to such heights of hypersensitivity that even points at which Brennan can be heard saying, “Mm hmm,” as though urging Qin along, were included in my list. Reviewing the list, I then sought to determine which points might be identified clearly as interruptions, meaning that Qin was unable to complete a thought or to plow ahead through the host’s attempt at interjection (a natural occurrence, as any conversationalist knows). This unscientific assessment of an entirely subjective question identified just four genuine interruptions. These were not, mind you, examples of unforgivable rudeness or unprofessionalism. They were simply points where Brennan, leaving justification aside, did seem to effectively cut Qin off – such as the point at the end where Brennan cuts Qin off because they are frankly out of time.
One of the most telling instances comes just before the eight-minute mark, as Qin belabors the point that China’s engagement with Russia has put it in a unique position as a potential peacemaker. “So China’s unique role, you know,” he starts and stops, “[can] help the peaceful settlement of the crisis.” He pauses and seems about to go on, when Brennan pipes up: “Tell me then – because I keep hearing you say that. I want to understand how China is helping.”
This question from Brennan, responding directly to Qin’s assertion that China has a “unique role,” makes perfect sense. She is asking for something concrete beyond the government talking point. But this single moment is logged by Chinese state media as interruption 19 and 20 of the interview.
Global Interruptions
Looking more closely at how the 9/23 Brennan frame was shared across Chinese social media, and by which accounts, its role as a state-driven effort to pull focus from criticism of China becomes clear.
According to one early post on the official Weibo account of the CCP’s Reference News (参考消息), the 23 interruptions in the Brennan interview were first spotted by a “Chinese internet user.” It could possibly be that an unacknowledged user somewhere in cyberspace originated the 23 interruptions meme, but it’s clear that the first post to elevate the frame originated with Wang Bingru (王冰汝), the correspondent based in Washington, D.C., for the partly state-held Phoenix TV, which in recent years has been more closely aligned with state agendas. Earlier this month, Phoenix was forced to close its network office in Taiwan, authorities having designated it “a de facto Chinese state-controlled entity.”
Wang is a massive influencer with close to four million followers. Posting the “Face the Nation” video, Wang added the title: “Qin Gang is ‘treated differently’ as a guest on top American program, interrupted 23 times in 9 minutes!” Shared 3.5 million times on Weibo alone, Wang’s video was showered with bullet comments from users, many wasting no time in making explicit the main theme that would soon be amplified by the above-mentioned range of state media accounts. Bottom line: This was yet another case of Western media bias and unprofessionalism, with implications for the state and all of its subjects.
Bullet comments fly across the screen on a video of the “Face the Nation” interview shared on Weibo by Phoenix TV correspondent Wang Bingzhuang.
“Discourse power is grasped in the hands of the system controlled by the American imperialists,” said one comment. Another grew vicious with an epithet, “whore-espondent” (妓者), that has often been directed at journalists online in China: “[She] doesn’t want to listen and constantly interrupts, exactly like a ‘whore-espondent’ for American media!”
Other comments on Wang’s video were more skeptical. “So, Journalist Wang, are you more skilled than this journalist?” one asked. “The ambassador isn’t smooth enough,” said another. Referring to Fu Xiaotian (傅晓田), a Phoenix TV host who has interviewed diplomats and world leaders (and would interview Qin four days later), another comment ventured: “Isn’t that Xiaotian host at your network also known to interrupt her interviewees all the time?”
But the interruption theme nevertheless went viral, pushed by apps and social media posts from Party-state media, even as official news releases on state-run websites and traditional media remained more even-handed in presenting the interview. (The Chinese Embassy in the US posted a Chinese-language version of the transcript without any indication of interruptions.)
One of the earliest posts recorded on Weibo was made at 8:29AM Beijing time on March 21, shortly after the “Face the Nation” episode aired in the US and the Wang Bingru video post was made. That post came from “Kunming Luquan Release” (昆明禄劝发布), an official account operated by the local CCP propaganda department in the county of Luquan in Yunnan province. “Qin Gang’s full interview with CBS. In 9 minutes he was interrupted no less than 23 times, but was still able to maintain a polite and friendly smile,” it read.
The official Weibo account of the local propaganda office in Yunnan’s Luquan County shares a video of the “Face the Nation” exchange, emphasizing 23 interruptions in 9 minutes.
The vast majority of posts from the social media accounts of Chinese state media followed over the next 4-6 hours, including the Global Times, the official China News Service, China Daily, Xiamen Daily, International Finance News (under the People’s Daily), and Hong Kong’s CCP-linked Ta Kung Pao. Commercial or hybrid media outlets like Shanghai’s Guancha Syndicateand Netease Finance also followed up on the story, all repeating the 23 interruptions meme. Many more outlets, like Taihainet.com, a news portal under the official Fujian Daily, shared posts from outlets such as the Global Times.
One of the most popular video versions, set to dramatic music and gaining nearly one million views, was produced by a media outlet called “Haike News” (海客新闻). It was this version that was used by China Daily on the morning of March 21. A search for “Haike News,” which has its own YouTube channel that claims to be operated from Taiwan, is in fact a product of the overseas edition of the CCP’s official People’s Daily. This is clearly stated on the “Haike News” Weibo account, linked to the YouTube channel, as well as links to app downloads.
The “Haike News” app is listed in open-source materials as a product of Haiwainet Media Company Ltd. (海外网传媒有限公司), which operates haiwainet.cn, “the official website of the overseas edition of the People’s Daily.” A search of company records confirms that Haiwainet Media Company Ltd. is jointly owned by the People’s Daily newspaper (人民日报社), which holds 40 percent, and the Shanghai-listed People’s Daily Online (人民网股份有限公司), which holds 60 percent.
Company records for Haiwainet Media Company Ltd., creator of the “Haike News” app, show it is jointly owned by the People’s Daily newspaper and the Shanghai-listed People’s Daily Online.
One of the most active outlets pushing the interruption meme was the Global Times, another spin-off of the CCP’s official People’s Daily, which addressed the story in both English and Chinese on its website, as well as through numerous social media channels. The Global Times also covered Brennan’s supposed interruptions in a second English-language report called: “Netizens call out ‘rude’ CBS news host for heckling Chinese envoy.”
Is it any surprise that netizens called out Brennan? After all, they were exposed to this very directed meme – never questioned from the moment Wang Bingru suggested it – through a vast network of social media posts and channels. But when this cacophony is traced back to its source, we are left with a handful of Party-state media that, like “Haike News,” trace quickly back to the center.
The People’s Daily, the Global Times, People’s Daily Online, Haiwainet.cn, “Haike News” – all of these media outlets and their social media accounts are ultimately linked to the CCP’s Central Propaganda Department, which is the People’s Daily’s sponsoring body. And when we look at other players in the bad-suzhi Brennan story, they are almost uniformly either linked Party-state media themselves, or the social media accounts run by local offices and departments within the vast Party-state system – accounts like the above-mentioned “Kunming Luquan Release.”
China Daily, the official English-language publication of the Information Office of the State Council, may seem to be on the government as opposed to the Party side of this equation (an academic distinction). But the equation still balances the same way. The newspaper’s supervising institution is listed in company documents as the “Central Group for External Propaganda” (中央对外宣传小组), the same entity as the “Central Office for External Propaganda” (中央对外宣传办公室), which is directly under the Central Committee of the CCP.
Company records show that China Daily is administered by the CCP’s “Central Group for External Propaganda.”
The upshot here is that a meme we are supposed to believe was genuinely popular, a reflection of genuine Chinese public chagrin at a real act of contempt by a Western journalist, was manufactured through a broad network of social media accounts and websites all emanating from the power center of the CCP.
This is just one of many hundreds of memes that the Party’s developing viral propaganda network has disseminated in recent weeks, and there are surely many thousands yet to come. But it offers a sense of what Xi Jinping meant in December 2015 when he likened the transformation of the CCP’s media and propaganda system to a vast creature reaching out to every node of attention. “Wherever the readers are, wherever the viewers are, that is where propaganda reports must extend their tentacles, and that is where we find the focal point and end point of propaganda and ideology work,” he said.
This Party-state network of meme generators and disseminators is a part of the larger process of the Party’s “media convergence” (see CMP’s related piece this week), which seeks to leverage “emerging media” to create more effective propaganda and “guidance,” recognizing that this can only happen if new platforms effectively “follow the laws of news dissemination and the development principles of emerging media.”
A post to Twitter by a user on March 21, the day the “23 interruptions” meme trended, elevates Brennan’s tactics as evidence of broader American “hysteria” that must necessarily lead to US-China conflict.
This system also responds to the progressive collapse of the distinction between internal and external propaganda. Memes like that focusing on the Qin-Brennan interview, while amplified domestically to divert, distract and undermine criticism of the state, also serve as disinformation that can be amplified through external channels, including Western social media platforms.
The Story Behind the (Manufactured) Story
This week, as “News Report Frontline” turned with seriousness to the question of Margaret Brennan’s journalistic transgressions, the time was long past for asking basic questions about the soundness of this frame. By this point the 9/23 formula had circulated for a full month. The story, which “News Report Frontline” promised to unpack – the program’s tagline is “exploring the story behind the story” – was pre-loaded with conclusions inflating Brennan’s singular professional approach as a Western hegemonic conspiracy.
The show’s guest experts, including Cao Peixin (曹培鑫), a professor and deputy director at the School of Journalism at Communication University of China (CUC), and Li Jingjing (李菁菁), a news host at the state-run CGTN, obligingly ran in their tracks. Aired exactly one month after the meme went bonkers, the program was called: “Interrupting Qin Gang 23 Times in 9 Minutes: Where Exactly Was the Female Host in the Wrong?”
A promotional poster for the “News Report Frontline” episode on Qin Gang’s interview on “Face the Nation.”
“News Report Frontline” began with this oddly imbalanced pair of questions:
What techniques did the host use during the interview program? In a situation in which Europe, the US and developed countries monopolize discourse power, how should workers in international communication raise their communication capacity?
The plunge between these questions is dizzying, but a nearly perfect mimicking of the great leap required of the audience. The question about technique might invite a more critical look at Brennan’s exchange with Qin, and a substantive discussion of ethics in the interview process based on shared standards of professional journalism. But that never happens.
The second question is the super-frame that drowns out all other considerations. Clearly, Brennan’s tough questioning of Qin must be seen as an example of the Western bias stemming from China’s relative weakness in terms of “discourse power.” The absurdity is entirely lost on the participants, who are deep in the game — namely, that a meme entirely manufactured by an array of media outlets and accounts devoted to external propaganda has become the focus of a discussion about the urgency of external propaganda (state communication, if you like) in mobilizing against the West.
Cao Peixin speaks of the challenge of “an unequal communication order,” in which “the mainstream media of developed countries, because they have greater discourse power, can determine history and the facts.” For Li Jingjing too this is an us-versus-them battle in which Chinese must defend themselves, which is to say – remembering that we are talking about a Chinese diplomat – that Chinese must defend the state.
Western countries’ suppression of China overall will permeate down to the individual level. Working in this field [of journalism], we should understand that Western media often label China while ignoring our behavior. Young people must have their own critical thinking, their own attitudes and the ability to distinguish right from wrong when others judge us. We also need to be bold enough to stand up and speak out, improving our ability to express ourselves, and not letting others define us.
The conflation in Li’s words of the self and the state is precisely what the Brennan meme was meant to achieve in the first place. If the meme works its magic, those 23 interruptions in just 9 minutes will be felt intimately, by each Chinese person, as an insult against their personal dignity. And this personal animus toward the interviewer, who in this mini-drama represents the antagonist that is the West, can then congeal into shared national pique.
From the perspective of the propagandist, the wonderful thing about shared pique is that it deadens the mind and simplifies the story. In a fragmented information world, it gives a piece of content, however ludicrous, virality.
For “News Report Frontline” the story behind the Brennan interview is ultimately, then, about China’s fury at suffering a perceived interruption. It is about China’s loss of voice. That story is of course familiar to those who study China’s external communication policies. It is the story, Xi Jinping’s story, that undergirds the global telling of the “China story” and its roots in the glories of the CCP. On the path to a “great rejuvenation,” the Chinese people must not be interrupted. And no one needs to ask who will speak for them.
Last week at CMP, we looked at the emergence in Guangxi of the phrase “pilot of the great revival” (伟大复兴领航人) to address Chinese leader Xi Jinping – the latest example of expressions of loyalty, or biaotai (表态), that we can expect to intensify in the run-up to the 20th National Congress of the CCP next fall.
Eager not to be left behind in the race to bend the knee before Xi, top leaders in Guangdong province sent strong signals of obedience during a meeting to announce adjustments from the Central Committee on “main responsible comrades” (主要负责同志) in the city of Shenzhen. In a readout of the meeting, Guangdong governor Wang Weizhong (王伟中) was quoted as using the phrase “Ever grateful to the general secretary” (始终感恩感怀总书记) no less than 10 times in his address.
Coverage from Shenzhen Evening News of the meeting of Guangdong leaders shows liberal use of the phrase “Ever grateful to the general secretary” (始终感恩感怀总书记).
In fact, the phrase started nearly every remark that Wang made regarding the expectations of the CCP leadership and the actions of Guangdong and the city of Shenzhen:
[We are] ever grateful to the General Secretary and the CCP Central Committee for assigning major strategic tasks to Shenzhen, [and we have] conscientiously implemented the decisions and deployments of the CCP Central Committee and the provincial party committee’s ‘1+1+9’ work deployment, forming and implementing the municipal party committee’s ‘1+10+10’ work arrangement; [we are] ever grateful to the General Secretary and the CCP Central Committee for its high-level guidance on Shenzhen’s high-quality development, promoting the building of high-quality development to a new level; [we are] ever grateful to the General Secretary and the CCP Central Committee for its expectation for Shenzhen in achieving the ‘seven people’s livelihoods’ and striving to build a happiness benchmark for the achievement of common prosperity; [we are] ever grateful to the General Secretary and the CCP Central Committee for leading us through the wind and waves as the storm comes, resolutely pushing forward, integrating epidemic prevention and control with economic development, and development with security.
In an era when power is increasingly consolidated at the very top of the CCP, these expressions of obedience resemble the “loyalty dance,” or zhongziwu (忠字舞), of the Maoist period. This was a collective dance prevalent during the Cultural Revolution, when Mao claimed control over all aspects of life. When performing the zhongziwu, dancers would grasp copies of Mao’s “little red book” as they leapt and shouted to music.
Women perform the “loyalty dance” during the Cultural Revolution, expressing their allegiance to Mao Zedong. Image from Wikimedia Commons available under CC license.
As May approaches, we are likely reaching the halfway point in the 2022 march toward the 20th National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party, the political event that will shape China’s political future for the coming decade – and likely under the clinched fist of Xi Jinping as the country’s most powerful political leader since Mao Zedong.
At this point, we should expect to the volume to rise on preparations for the 20th National Congress. And we can also anticipate the creation of new catchphrases to talk about the Party’s glorious leader and his visionary leadership. The past week has not disappointed. We give you Xi Jinping, “pilot of the great revival” (伟大复兴领航人).
For Mr. Special, a “Special Report”
As we have written repeatedly at CMP, there are a number of important signs to watch in the official discourse as the 20th Congress approaches. Crucially, there is the possible shortening of Xi Jinping’s ponderous 16-character banner term, or qizhiyu (旗帜语), as the potent “Xi Jinping Thought.” Other signs? Ever more prominent acts of loyalty signaling, or biaotai (表态), as a host of provincial and city leaders rush to declare their alignment with Xi’s leadership in a process of discursive toadyism resembling the “loyalty dances” of the Maoist past.
This week, China’s Guangxi Autonomous Region (广西壮族自治区) upped the ante on loyalty signaling with the release of a six-part television “special report” (专题片) in preparation for the Congress, and commemorating the “important speech” delivered by Xi Jinping during his tour of Guangxi on April 27 last year. Produced by Guangxi’s CCP leadership and released by the region’s official television network, the series, “Conscientiously Striving With the Pilot of the Great Revival” (紧跟伟大复兴领航人踔厉笃行), is a masterwork of obsequiousness.
Episode 5 of the film, which first aired on March 16, begins with the voice of Xi Jinping – with panoramic shots of science and technology, military prowess and the karst mountains of Guilin – as he intones: “Realizing the great rejuvenation of the Chinese people is the greatest Chinese dream of the Chinese people in our times.” Scenes of Xi visiting Guangxi and talking about the importance of the CCP’s revolutionary history are interspersed with related expressions of zeal from the regional leadership, such as a visit “following in the footsteps of General Secretary Xi Jinping” to a site commemorating the Long March.
The “special report” refers to Xi Jinping as the “people’s leader” (人民领袖), a rare title of praise in China’s political discourse, reminiscent of the personality cult that prevailed during the Mao Zedong era. It speaks of the “great thought” (伟大思想) with which Xi has inspired the people in Guangxi. Finally, it recounts with sickening sycophancy the ways that leaders in the autonomous region have risen to Xi’s glorious vision as outlined in his “4-27” speech in Guangxi:
The CCP Committee of the autonomous region has seriously studied and profoundly implemented the spirit of General Secretary Xi Jinping’s important speech [in Guangxi], making a series of plans and deployments, one after the other, of a series of happy events done a series of major events, and implementing and handling a series of joyful events and glorious event, and a series of major matters.
But the real innovation of this television propaganda series comes in its coining of a new term of praise for the General Secretary.
According to a report on the series from the region’s official Guangxi Daily, one communications professor praised the innovative use by the series of the term “pilot of the great revival” to refer to Xi. The professor was quoted as saying: “The new formulation ‘pilot of the great rejuvenation’ organically unites the Party’s historical mission with the people’s pursuit of a better life, and closely combines the Chinese dream of the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation with the people’s political identification with the Party’s top leaders.”
The term “pilot” (领航人), which was used in the 1960s to refer to Mao Zedong — and was used again for Mao on at least one occasion during the Xi era — has been used only seldomly to refer to Xi Jinping. In October 2019, a report in the People’s Daily praising “China’s governance” (中国之治) quoted Xi Jinping without even mentioning his name, referring to him as only “the pilot of the New Era”: “In 2019, the pilot of the new era solemnly declared, ‘We have come out of the successful path of building a socialist system with Chinese characteristics, and as long as we continue along this path, we will certainly be able to modernize the national governance system and governance capacity.”
More recently, in a front-page piece in the during the National People’s Congress on March 10, 2022, the People’s Daily said quoted 74-year-old Zhang Boli (张伯礼), a Chinese physician and recent torch bearer for the Beijing Winter Olympics, as saying, while “overwhelmed with emotion,” that: “General Secretary Xi Jinping’s crucial decision-making and calm command were the source of motivation for the whole country in fighting the epidemic. It is because of the General Secretary saving us in the storm that the children of China are able to face the epidemic of the century and move forward with courage. The General Secretary is our backbone, but also our pilot!”
Closely related to this term is the phrase “pilot at the helm,” or linghang zhangduo (领航掌舵), a reference with strong echoes of China’s Maoist past that was used for Xi Jinping during the 5th Plenum of the 19th Central Committee in 2020. Used in a total of 47 articles in 2021, usually in references to Xi as the “core pilot at the helm” (核心领航掌舵), it has appeared in seven articles in the People’s Daily so far in 2022.
