For the Chinese leadership, the 80th anniversary of the country’s victory in the War of Resistance Against Japan in World War II is a major milestone — an opportunity to signal the power of the ruling Chinese Communist Party to people at home, and the country’s global ambitions to audiences abroad. These goals were on full display during the ritualized pageantry of the military parade yesterday in Beijing, attended by Russian leader Vladimir Putin and North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un.
Preparations for the celebrations, coinciding with this week’s Tianjin meeting of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), an event that has sparked lively discussion and speculation about whether or not we are witnessing a fundamental shift in the world order, were months in the making. In recent days, the logistical preparations have brought the center of the capital to a literal standstill.
But in the days ahead of this week’s parade of high-tech weaponry, ideological moves of equal or greater importance have prepared the way for the CCP’s new historical consensus. This view rewrites the history of global war and peace to firm up the narrative of China’s centrality. It was the CCP, the story goes, that decisively won the war for Asia and for the world.
Backbone Narratives
On Sunday, the China Youth Daily, an official newspaper under the Chinese Communist Youth League (CCYL), ran an article by Shi Quanwei (史全伟), a research fellow at the Party History and Literature Research Institute of the CCP Central Committee. Shi argued the CCP had been the “backbone” (中流砥柱) of the entire nation’s resistance during the War of Resistance Against Japan. Furthermore, Shi says it was the united front leadership, guerrilla warfare tactics, and exemplary governance of the CCP that made it crucial to China’s wartime resistance.
“The experience of three revolutions, especially the War of Resistance, has given us and the Chinese people this confidence,” he wrote. “Without the efforts of the Communist Party, without Communists serving as the backbone of the Chinese people, China’s independence and liberation would have been impossible.”
Just as the celebrations yesterday invited talk of the conspicuous sidelining of the United States as a global leader — and by extension what state media like to call the “US-led West”(美西方) — reconstructed narratives made much of the historically inflated importance of the US in the global conflict 80 years ago.
Quoting from several global talking heads, the government-run China Daily pressed the point that the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, the quintessential inflection point in American narratives of fascist resistance, had been given too central a role in the broader global story — as had the role of the United States in the Pacific theater. Instead, it was the CCP that had led the decisive grassroots resistance years before the belated American entry. As the descendant of one Soviet pilot was quoted as saying, glossing over the role of Republican forces in China at the time: “China’s resistance war was already underway before the Pearl Harbor incident. Chinese forces long tied down Japanese military strength and manpower, preventing them from extending their influence to the Pacific and the entire Far East region at that time.”
This wave of writing and commentary on WWII history was promoted through traditional state-run outlets and new social media accounts all through August. According to these pieces, the emphasis on the US role had for decades overshadowed, or inexcusably sidelined, China’s role in the global conflict.
On August 16, an article appeared on WeChat that claimed American academia had deliberately downplayed China’s role — which was to say, the role of the CCP. In recent years, the author wrote, the geopolitical rivalry between China and the US had led American historians to overlook China’s role in the Pacific theater, “fully exposing the United States’ political manipulation of history to gain political advantage.”
A man identified as a descendant of a World War II-era Soviet fighter pilot praises China’s central role in the Pacific theater, accusing the US of broad historical revisionism.
That argument, of course, has many flaws — not least the absurd assumption that US historians (like Chinese ones?) are an organized and geopolitically-motivated force, lacking professional integrity and unable to distinguish between the present-day People’s Republic of China (PRC) and the Republic of China (ROC). This latter was China’s recognized government during World War II.
But the nature of the messenger in this and many other instances of historical redrafting in recent weeks is perhaps more telling than the substance. The author of this piece, “How Has American WWII Historical Research ‘Drifted’?,” was a scholar from the American Academy (美国研究所), a unit within the China Institute of Contemporary International Relations (中国现代国际关系研究院) — a front organization operated by the Ministry of State Security (MSS) and charged with engaging with foreign scholars.
And what of the outlet that published this piece — a drop in the wave of efforts to re-center China at the expense of the truth? It is a website launched in 2021 called “China’s Diplomacy in the New Era” (习近平外交思想和新时代中国外交), an outlet under the China International Communications Group (中国外文出版发行事业局), or CICG. The office, which masquerades as a press group, operates scores of online outlets including such government sites as China.com.cn, and has been tasked by Xi Jinping as a key vehicle for the CCP’s international communication. CICG’s parent is the Central Propaganda Department of the CCP Central Committee.
The social media account of “China’s Diplomacy in the New Era” — whose Chinese moniker bears the name of Xi Jinping himself — has been pushing a variety of articles on World War II in recent weeks. These mostly re-interpret the conflict through the lens of current geopolitics, colored with familiar state narratives, including contemporary Chinese claims to sovereignty in the South China Sea.
As the soldiers, tanks, missiles and drones goose-stepped and rolled along Chang’an Avenue on Wednesday, and Vladimir Putin had his smiling moment with Xi Jinping, some might have felt a sense of America sliding out of contemporary relevance. But behind the physical demonstrations of military might and the cementing of partnerships, there was an insistent narrative effort on all fronts to re-position China — and by extension, the CCP — at the center of the global historical narrative. For the leadership’s vision of a “new type of international relations,” nudging American leadership out of contemporary geopolitics is only half the battle; ensuring that it slips out of the history books may be equally important.
Earlier this month, China’s top control body for the internet and social media released its updated list of approved internet news information sources, a roster of outlets first issued a decade ago to curtail the sharing of articles and news reports by unauthorized sources — those without close Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and government ties. The publication of the list starting in 2015 was part of a general tightening of control over news and information in the early Xi Jinping era, as the internet and social media came to dominate news consumption.
The 2025 list from the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC), issued on August 14, includes 1,456 government-run media outlets whose content can be legally republished by other websites and news platforms — a carefully selected group that is meant to establish the CCP’s dominance over news content in China. All digital media platforms are forbidden from republishing news stories that originate from sources not included on the approved roster, including international media as well as public accounts on major platforms like WeChat and Weibo.
CAC Approved News Sources List
CAC Approved News Sources List (2021-2025)
Category
2021
2025
Change
Growth Rate
Total Sources
1,358
1,456
+98
+7.2%
Central Level
286
286
0
0%
Provincial Level
992
1,074
+82
+8.3%
Government Platforms
80
96
+16
+20.0%
Source: Cyberspace Administration of China
The Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC) first introduced the system in 2015 as part of broader internet governance reforms under Xi that include the formation of the CAC as a powerful control and oversight body for cyberspace. The inaugural “Source List” included Caixin, a professional news outlet founded in 2009 by the highly-respected editor Hu Shuli (胡舒立), but the list was further tightened during the second iteration in 2021, at which time Caixin was removed. The 2021 list contained 1,358 approved sources, nearly four times the number in the 2016 list of just 340. These changes reflected the addition of official government accounts within the country’s expanding digital news ecosystem.
The CAC explained that the 2021 update followed three priorities: “adds a group” of trusted sources adhering to correct political orientation, “verifies a group” to update closures and name changes from institutional reforms, and “eliminates a group” of units with “poor regular performance” or lacking influence.
While the overall list grew by just 7.2 percent between this year and 2021 — from 1,358 to 1,456 sources — the distribution of this growth tells a more complex story about Beijing’s information control strategy. Central-level sources remained unchanged at 286 units, suggesting authorities consider the media structure at the national level to be complete. Provincial-level sources, meanwhile, expanded by 8.3 percent (from 992 to 1,074), reflecting efforts to strengthen regional information control infrastructure. This mirrors the trend since 2018 of encouraging the development of local and regional communication hubs, including the creation of “international communication centers” (国际传播中心), or ICCs, which are meant to enhance CCP messaging globally by leveraging provincial, city and county-level media resources.
Government platform sources showed the most dramatic growth at 20 percent, jumping from 80 to 96 units. Among the new additions are several municipal government social media platforms, including the official WeChat accounts of Shenzhen Municipal Government and Chengdu City Administration, reflecting a push in recent years to centralize local news creation by government agencies while adapting to social media-driven information consumption.
The CAC warned that websites not adhering strictly to the approved source list “will be punished according to law and regulations.”
The Cultural Revolution is barely mentioned in modern China, yet it has never been more relevant. While scholars have long pointed to the excesses of Maoism as a parallel for Xi Jinping’s authoritarian leadership, they have also spotted echoes in the chaotic populist forces Donald Trump has conjured up within American democracy. As early as 2017, China scholar Geremie Barmé tied the two men together for their desire to take a wrecking ball to an old order, “throwing the world into confusion.” The first 100 days of Trump’s second term have only made this similarity starker.
For insights into the Cultural Revolution and how its ripples are felt today, we sat down with Tania Branigan, a leader writer at The Guardian and author of Red Memory: Living, Remembering and Forgetting China’s Cultural Revolution, a gripping account of that tumultuous decade that in 2023 was winner of McGill University’s Cundill History Prize. In a recent article, Branigan, who previously served as The Guardian’s China correspondent for seven years, drew her own parallels between MAGA and the Cultural Revolution.
Alex Colville: How did your idea come about for a book exploring the Cultural Revolution as remembered in modern China?
Tania Branigan: It just became increasingly apparent to me that all the things that I was looking at in modern day China linked back to that time. The key moment for me was going to lunch with Bill Bishop, who writes the excellent Sinocism newsletter. He started telling me about this trip he had made with his wife to try and find the body of his wife’s father, who was a victim of the Cultural Revolution. When they got to this village where he’d been held by Red Guards, the villagers were nice about it and remembered her father, but they were completely nonplussed by the idea that one might go looking for his body. They asked how they were supposed to know where it was, because there were so many of them. There was something about this story that I found hard to shake, showing how immediate and commonplace the Cultural Revolution still was.
As a journalist you do a story, then move on. But although I was writing about different things, be it economics, culture, politics, I kept feeling that actually the key to all these things really lay in what happened in the 60s.
AC: Can you elaborate?
TB: Economically, the country’s turn towards reform and opening up was both necessary and possible because of the Cultural Revolution, because it so thoroughly discredited Maoism. Allowing individual entrepreneurialism was quite a pragmatic response to what to do with these millions of young people flooding back into cities [after being sent down to the countryside and forced to stay there during the Cultural Revolution]. They didn’t have the education to compete with the newer students coming out.
If you want to understand the arts in China, and this extraordinary explosion of creativity that occurred [starting in the 1980s] it came from that destruction, and that vacuum, that hunger just for any kind of artistic or cultural expression beyond the dreaded 800 million people watching just eight model operas.
Politically you could certainly argue for Xi Jinping’s tight control being a response to the Cultural Revolution. If you look back to his relatively early years in officialdom, around the time of the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989 he spoke about the Cultural Revolution as “big democracy” (大民主), and said it was a source of “major chaos” (大动乱). So given his experiences, I don’t think it’s a stretch to see that need for tight control as being intimately linked to his experiences of the Cultural Revolution.
A public struggle session during China’s Cultural Revolution (1966-1976). Villagers gather before a banner with revolutionary slogans as accused “class enemies” are subjected to public criticism. These mass denunciations targeted those labeled as “cow demons and snake spirits” – a revolutionary term used to dehumanize perceived opponents of Mao’s political campaign. Source: Wikimedia Commons
AC: Do you think there’s anything in particular we in the West often fail to understand about the Cultural Revolution?
TB: There’s still this idea that it was just young people running wild. What that fails to grasp is that they were able to do that because they’d had certain ideas inculcated by Mao. It wasn’t just his personality cult, it was also about creating paranoia, about Mao’s attempt to safeguard and strengthen his power and his legacy. Young people were only able to act really with his instigation, and for as long as he permitted them to do that. The reason why the Cultural Revolution had this stultifying, stagnated second half [1968-1976] was only because Mao eventually decided he’d had enough.
I think the other thing is that while the Cultural Revolution could only happen in that time and place, I think ultimately, it’s about what human nature is capable of under certain circumstances and with certain encouragement. Which is why it matters to all of us.
AC: Yes, we’ve been seeing a lot of people in the media comparing this political moment in the US to the Cultural Revolution. I don’t know what you think about that.
TB: I think the comparison of Trump and Mao is a really powerful one. It’s obviously a point that people made even back in 2016, but it’s a point that has become more and more resonant as we see Trump move into a second term. He’s more revolutionary in his tactics, very much in the same way Mao moved into a stage of more disruptive and extreme power with the Cultural Revolution, no longer constrained by people around him in the way that he was earlier.
While there are a lot of strongmen around the world, most of them have a fairly rigid form of discipline and control. What’s really Mao-esque about Trump is that he relishes disruption and chaos, and he sees opportunities in it in a way that Mao did. Trump’s able to tap into the public id and use emotion in politics, he has that ability to channel people’s emotions against institutions for his own political interests.
The attack on the US Capitol on January 6, 2021, involved Trump trying to incite the masses to violence in order to retain power, in a way that has echoes to the Cultural Revolution. Source: Wikimedia Commons
A venomous mindset was, in a sense, key to the Cultural Revolution, it was all about the weaponization of division and hatred. When I was writing the book one thing that struck me was that Mao had to say, “Who are our enemies? Who are our friends?” And reading Adam Serwer [Staff Writer at The Atlantic, who argues that demonizing parts of American society is a calculated power play by Trump], for example, talking about Trump and the fact that cruelty is the purpose, it struck me that the parallel for Trump is it’s always them and us, in or out, and he draws those lines so strictly. By drawing those lines, he strengthens his power. You can pick a whole host more comparisons, like Trump installing himself as chair of the Kennedy Center, attacks on culture through libraries and so forth.
What’s really Mao-esque about Trump is that he relishes
disruption and chaos, and he sees opportunities
in it in a way that Mao did.
It’s obviously not a repetition, nobody’s suggesting that two million people are going to be killed in the US. It’s a fundamentally different context, in a system where you have checks and balances. Trump was elected, Trump can be removed. But I suppose the lesson that we should take from it is that many people around Mao did not fully realize what he was planning until it was too late.
AC: I have concerns about comparing this moment to the Cultural Revolution because I don’t think you can disentangle that term from public displays of violence, and the ensuing generational trauma you unpack in your book. There are many different historical moments that have had similar strains of tribalism, nationalism and populism to it. Doesn’t it make people more scared if you point to the Cultural Revolution specifically?
TB: I sometimes felt in China that the Cultural Revolution was the Chinese equivalent of Godwin’s law, that all the arguments on the internet [in the West] end up with somebody being compared to Hitler. So, you know, the Cultural Revolution can be very easily invoked on relatively flimsy grounds. So I completely understand why people are concerned or feel the comparisons are inappropriate. But I have to say quite a few intellectuals in China have now made the comparison themselves. I think it’s Trump’s ruthlessness, that disruptive chaotic quality [he has]. That the turmoil is not a byproduct of Trump’s ambition, but is actually intrinsic to it and something he draws power from.
Again, it’s absolutely not about saying this is a repeat of the Cultural Revolution. It’s about how the Cultural Revolution can help us better understand the present moment. [This is possible] even in a system with elections, entrenched checks and balances. This is a really astonishing and disturbing political moment, with possibilities that I don’t think we fully understand yet. There is something about the parallels to the Cultural Revolution that are very striking. It’s interesting to me that so many people now have drawn this comparison, including scholars of the Cultural Revolution such as Michel Bonnin, Geremie Barmé drew it quite early on [in 2017].
AC: So how do you think the Cultural Revolution can help us understand the present moment?
TB: By seeing the way that emotion is weaponized. By understanding that, particularly for Republicans, if you fail to challenge now, there comes a point where you cannot do so. I suspect quite a few Republicans have already concluded that that point has been reached. I would hope that more people on the right are alert to what we’re seeing now in terms of the administration’s conception of executive power, and the scope that it’s been given by the Supreme Court. It’s less about understanding as it is about responding.
AC:I wonder if the Cultural Revolution has a place as a parallel for China today. I lived there all the way through the zero-Covid policy (2020-2022), and there were certain moments in that final year where I thought this political system which gave birth to the Cultural Revolution can still be taken to extremes in certain areas, especially when power is concentrated in one man and people are scared for themselves, that same paranoia you mentioned earlier. Obviously, this is not a level of violence whereby two million people ended up being killed. But at the same time, there was a sense in 2022 these policies were becoming as dangerous as the virus itself. There is also collective amnesia around the zero-Covid policy and the damage it wrought.
TB: It’s interesting how many people in China made that comparison. And I think that’s partly because Covid was the ultimate expression that the Party has reasserted very tight control over the last ten years. There was this sense that the Party had partially retreated, from large areas of cultural life or private life or business life. Certainly [during Covid], people spoke to me about being quizzed by neighborhood committees about where they’d been, who they’d been with, all these things that, to young Chinese people would have been unthinkable under normal circumstances. At that point there was this mindset that we [the Party] can now determine what you do. The fact that you had people going into people’s homes and dragging them out, for some people clearly did evoke strong memories of the Cultural Revolution.
Minor protests against the zero-Covid policy in 2022 were dealt with harshly. An artist who wrote out the sentence “I’ve already been numb for three years” on Covid testing booths in Beijing was removed from his home by police and placed in prison until the end of the policy, 108 days later. Source: Nanyang Business Daily
But with regard to the amnesia around zero-COVID, I have to say one thing the pandemic here [in the UK] has shown me is that people don’t like remembering bad things, and this accounts for a lot of the silence around the Cultural Revolution. We’ve just had the fifth anniversary of the pandemic in the UK. It had this huge impact on people’s lives, but it’s barely mentioned.
AC: Yes, usually the media publishes articles to commemorate anniversaries of major events, but I haven’t seen many for Covid.
TB: Yeah, one thing that I did find when writing the book is that I thought it was going to be a book about political control of memory. It obviously is about that, but what surprised me was how important personal trauma was in silencing the Cultural Revolution.
AC: So I think we could generalize this last question: what happens if a society tries to move on from a form of collective trauma, but does not try to remember it.
TB: I think it can’t understand itself, and I think it’s much more vulnerable. Both to repetition, not an exact repetition because China today is clearly a very, very different nation from the China of 1966. As we’ve just discussed, you can’t see the Cultural Revolution transplanted outside China, or in time either. But I think the other thing is that people can’t understand the profound scars it leaves behind. And that was for me why it was really important to speak to psychotherapists [whose private conversations with individuals has probed the inherited trauma that often stems from events that happened in the Cultural Revolution]. But also just talking to people for the book, the level of the trauma was still evident. There are small things on a personal level, such as Wang Xilin [an interviewee in Branigan’s book who was forced to take part in multiple show trials where he was beaten so hard it left him deaf] talking about how when a friend calls out his name on the street he jumps. Because it takes him back to that experience of waiting at a struggle session for his name to be called as the next victim.
But I think on a much deeper, more profound level, the way people are unable to trust. You’ve had a generation who were taught that you could not trust at all. It’s not that you couldn’t trust strangers, you can’t trust those around you. Again, it was a psychotherapist who said to me, you know, that afterwards you might talk about it to a stranger on the train, but you’d never talk about it to someone in your workplace, you might not even speak about it within your family. So I think that fracturing of the bonds of trust is something so profound that still hasn’t been addressed. The fear of speaking out. The idea that speech itself, being open with people, is fundamentally dangerous. One survivor of the Cultural Revolution told Arthur Kleinman he tried to be bland like rice in a meal, “taking on the flavor of its surroundings while giving off no flavor of its own,” that was the safest thing to be. One of the psychotherapists said to me they increasingly admired people just for surviving.
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