——从卢比奥事件看中共外交的虚伪与独裁逻辑
作者：李聪玲
当美国国务卿马可·卢比奥 Marco Rubio 跟随唐纳德·特朗普 Donald Trump 的访华行程踏入北京时，一个极其荒诞的问题再次摆在世界面前：一个曾被中共高调“制裁”、公开宣布“禁止入境”的美国政治人物，为何突然又可以进入中国？
这不仅是一场外交上的尴尬，更像是一记打在中共自己脸上的耳光。因为它暴露出一个事实：中共所谓的“制裁”，从来不是基于法律，不是基于国际规则，更不是基于原则，而只是一个独裁政权情绪化、宣传化、工具化的政治动作。今天可以“永不欢迎”，明天也可以“热烈接待”；今天可以“严厉谴责”，明天也可以“合作共赢”；今天把你称为“反华分子”，明天又能与你握手寒暄。这一切的背后，恰恰体现了中共政权最深层的丑恶——它没有真正稳定的价值体系，没有法治，没有诚信，更没有现代文明社会所尊重的规则意识。它唯一相信的，只有权力，只有统治，只有政治利益。
卢比奥事件之所以具有象征意义，不只是因为一个美国高官被“解除封杀”，而是因为这个过程，把中共外交的虚伪、独裁体制的任意性，以及整个政权对国际社会的欺骗逻辑，全部赤裸裸地暴露了出来。很多人还记得，当年中共宣布制裁卢比奥时，官方媒体曾经铺天盖地进行宣传。电视新闻里充斥着“坚决反制”“绝不姑息”“干涉中国内政必将付出代价”等口号。网络上的“五毛”与民族主义账号更是群情激愤，仿佛卢比奥已经成为“中华民族公敌”。
然而几年之后，同样一个人，却能够随着美国总统的代表团进入中国，甚至与习近平直接接触。那么问题来了：到底是谁在撒谎？如果卢比奥真的是“反华急先锋”，为什么现在又能进入北京？如果中共制裁是真实有效的，那为什么又能随时撤销？如果所谓“国家尊严”如此神圣，为何又能因为外交需要而瞬间改变？
答案其实很简单。因为在中共体制里，所谓原则，从来都只是宣传机器的一部分；所谓制裁，也只是用来煽动民族主义情绪的政治表演。它不是法治行为，而是权力行为。在正常国家里，制裁通常具有明确法律依据、程序与公开标准。无论是美国、欧盟还是其他民主国家，对某些个人或组织进行制裁，往往都需要行政程序、法律授权、公开文件以及可追溯依据。即使有人反对，也必须承认它至少存在制度边界。
但中共不是。中共的所谓“制裁”，很多时候连最基本的法律文本都不存在。没有司法程序，没有独立审查，没有公开听证，也没有真正的法律约束。它今天宣布制裁谁，明天取消谁，完全取决于政治需要。这种制度本质上，就是一种“皇权式政治”。它不是现代国家，而更像古代王朝。皇帝高兴，就赐你金牌；皇帝愤怒，就把你流放；皇帝需要你，又可以重新召回。
规则并不重要，重要的是统治者的意志。而这恰恰也是中共最危险的地方。因为一个没有规则边界的政权，不仅会伤害国际社会，更会伤害自己的人民。中国普通人对此其实并不陌生。因为这种“双重标准”，早已渗透进整个社会。今天一个企业家还在电视上高谈阔论，明天就可能突然“被消失”；今天一个明星被官方力捧，明天就可能全网封杀；今天一个地方政府高喊“支持民营经济”，明天就能突击罚款、强制整顿；今天允许讨论的话题，明天就会变成“敏感内容”。
在这种环境下，没有人真正拥有安全感。因为决定一切的，从来不是法律，而是权力本身。卢比奥事件，不过是这种体制逻辑在国际舞台上的一次缩影。更讽刺的是，中共长期利用“反制裁”来制造民族主义情绪。每当国际社会批评新疆人权问题、西藏问题、香港问题，或者谴责中共打压异议人士时，北京往往会立刻祭出“反制裁”大旗，试图向国内塑造一种“强硬反击西方霸权”的形象。
然而实际上，中共真正害怕的，并不是外国政客，而是真相。它害怕外界谈论新疆集中营；它害怕世界关注香港自由的崩塌；它害怕国际社会持续记录西藏的人权压迫；它害怕越来越多中国年轻人开始意识到，所谓“民族复兴”的背后，其实是一个高度集权的监控国家。
所以，中共才会如此依赖宣传机器。因为它需要不断制造“外部敌人”，来转移内部矛盾。经济下滑时，要怪“西方打压”；失业严重时，要怪“境外势力”；外交孤立时，要怪“美国遏制”；社会不满增加时，就煽动民族主义。这种逻辑，本质上与历史上一切独裁政权都极其相似。纳粹德国曾经把犹太人塑造成国家敌人；苏联斯大林时期不断制造“境外间谍”；朝鲜长期宣扬“美帝亡我之心不死”。独裁体制最害怕的，从来不是外敌，而是人民开始独立思考。
因为一旦人民意识到：真正压迫自己的，不是外国，而是本国权力；真正限制自由的，不是外部世界，而是内部专制；真正让社会陷入恐惧的，不是民主国家，而是监控与审查制度；那么整个宣传机器就会开始崩塌。而卢比奥事件，恰恰让这种宣传陷入尴尬。因为它证明，中共口中的“原则”，其实可以随时改变；它所谓“绝不妥协”的姿态，也可以瞬间转向；它煽动出来的民族主义愤怒，本质上只是政治工具。普通民众被情绪裹挟，而真正掌握权力的人，却始终在进行现实利益计算。
这种虚伪，才是最可怕的。它不仅欺骗世界，更长期欺骗中国人民。更值得注意的是，中共外交近年来越来越呈现一种“战狼化”倾向。过去几十年，中共外交曾经长期维持“韬光养晦”策略，对外尽量避免正面冲突。但随着民族主义宣传升级，一批“战狼外交官”开始不断制造强硬姿态。他们在国际社交媒体上攻击外国记者；他们公开辱骂其他国家政客；他们用极端民族主义语言进行外交表演；他们把一切批评都定义为“辱华”。
然而问题在于：真正成熟的大国外交，从来不是靠情绪与口号。一个真正自信的国家，不需要天天喊“虽远必诛”；一个真正强大的文明，不需要动辄“玻璃心”；一个真正受到人民支持的政府，也不需要依靠封锁信息来维持稳定。中共外交之所以越来越激进，本质上是因为它缺乏安全感。它知道自己在人权问题上无法面对国际审视；它知道自己在新闻自由问题上站不住脚；它知道自己在言论审查、网络封锁、异议打压方面，与现代民主社会存在巨大差距。所以，它只能不断通过“强硬姿态”来维持内部宣传效果。
但问题是，外交不是内宣。在中国国内，官方媒体可以删帖、封号、压制讨论；但在国际社会，其他国家不会因为几句口号就改变立场。于是，我们便看到一种极其荒诞的局面：一边高喊“严厉制裁”；另一边又不得不重新接触、重新谈判、重新合作。而这种反复无常，本身就正在消耗中共的国际信誉。国际社会或许会因为利益而与北京合作，但越来越少有人真正相信中共的承诺。因为太多人已经意识到：在一个缺乏法治约束的体制里，任何承诺都可能随时改变；任何协议都可能因政治需要而被推翻；任何“原则”都可能在利益面前迅速消失。
而这一切的背后，其实都绕不开一个核心人物：习近平。今天的中共外交之所以越来越极端、越来越情绪化、越来越缺乏稳定性，本质上并不只是“制度问题”，更是习近平个人独裁不断强化后的结果。过去的中共，虽然同样专制，但在邓小平时代之后，党内至少还维持着一种脆弱的“集体领导”机制。不同派系之间存在平衡，最高权力并非完全由一人掌控。也正因为如此，中共过去几十年的外交，整体上仍然带有某种“务实主义”色彩。
但习近平上台之后，一切开始迅速改变。他不断通过“反腐”清洗异己；不断削弱国务院与传统官僚体系；不断强化个人权威；不断把所有重大决策集中到自己手中。最具象征性的，就是他直接修改宪法，取消国家主席任期限制。这一举动，彻底撕碎了中共改革开放后原本试图建立的权力交接规则，也让中国重新走回“终身领袖”的个人独裁道路。从那一刻开始，中国政治实际上已经发生根本变化。因为一个没有权力制衡的领导人，最终一定会把整个国家拖入个人意志政治。
于是，人们开始看到越来越熟悉的历史场景：个人崇拜重新出现；媒体开始反复歌颂“领袖”；学校不断强化政治忠诚教育；“定于一尊”成为公开政治语言；党内几乎再也听不到真正不同的声音。在这种环境下，外交自然也不可能正常。因为所有外交路线，最终都必须服务于习近平个人权威。为什么中共越来越强调“东升西降”？为什么不断制造民族主义情绪？为什么越来越强调所谓“大国斗争”？为什么战狼外交不断升级？
原因其实很简单。一个独裁者，需要不断制造“外部敌人”，来巩固内部统治。因为当经济增长放缓、社会压力增加、青年失业恶化、房地产危机扩大时，一个缺乏民主合法性的政权，就必须寻找新的政治支撑。而民族主义，恰恰是独裁体制最常使用的工具。于是，习近平时代的中国，开始越来越像一个高度紧张的政治机器。对内，强化监控；对外，强化敌意；对上，强化个人忠诚；对下，强化思想控制。这种模式，与真正现代国家的发展方向其实完全相反。一个真正自信的大国，应当允许批评；一个真正稳定的社会，应当容纳不同声音；一个真正成熟的政府，应当接受权力监督。但习近平所推动的，却恰恰是相反的道路。
他不断强调“党领导一切”；不断压缩民间空间；不断强化意识形态；不断把国家机器重新拉回高度集权状态。而卢比奥（鲁比奥）事件，其实正暴露出这种个人独裁下外交体系的混乱。因为在个人独裁体制里，所谓外交原则，往往只是领导人政治需要的延伸。今天可以强硬；明天也可以转弯；今天可以高调制裁；明天也可以低调接待。没有真正稳定规则，也没有真正制度边界。一切都取决于最高权力者的政治判断。而这，也正是世界越来越警惕习近平时代中国的真正原因。国际社会担忧的，并不仅仅是“中国崛起”，而是一个拥有庞大经济体量与军事力量的国家，正在重新走向高度个人独裁。
因为历史已经反复证明：当一个国家缺乏权力制衡；当一个领导人不受监督；当所有人只能歌颂、不能批评；那么最终的结果，往往不是稳定，而是危险。无论是毛泽东时代的大饥荒与文革，还是历史上其他独裁政权的灾难，都早已证明：个人崇拜最终伤害的，永远是整个国家与人民。而今天的中国，正在重新出现这种令人不安的趋势。
这也是为什么越来越多国家开始对中国供应链产生警惕；越来越多企业开始分散风险；越来越多民主国家重新审视与北京的关系。问题从来不只是经济，而是信任。而信任，恰恰是独裁体制最难建立的东西。因为一个长期依靠谎言维持稳定的政权，很难真正获得外界信赖。它可以要求人民“相信党”；可以通过宣传机器塑造“伟大光荣正确”；可以利用审查制度压制不同声音；但它无法强迫世界相信它。
卢比奥事件，其实正是一面镜子。它照出的，不只是一次外交上的尴尬，而是整个中共体制的深层问题——一个没有制度约束、没有真正法治、没有稳定原则的权力结构，最终只能不断依赖宣传、民族主义与情绪动员来维持统治。然而历史已经无数次证明：靠恐惧维持的稳定，不会长久；靠谎言建立的权威，终究脆弱；靠宣传制造的愤怒，也终有一天会反噬自身。
今天，中共可以随时宣布“制裁”；明天，也可以随时取消“制裁”；今天，它可以把某个人塑造成“敌人”；明天，又可以重新邀请对方进入北京。但真正无法被随意更改的，是人们对真相的记忆。
越来越多中国人已经开始意识到：所谓“强硬外交”，很多时候只是政治表演；所谓“民族愤怒”，往往只是宣传操控；而所谓“国家尊严”，却常常被权力集团当成工具使用。一个真正值得尊重的国家，不应建立在谎言之上；一个真正现代化的社会，也不应由少数人任意决定规则。
卢比奥能否进入北京，其实并不是最重要的问题。真正重要的是：为什么一个号称“依法治国”的政权，能够让所谓“制裁”像儿戏一样随意变化？为什么一个天天强调“国家尊严”的政府，却能在宣传与现实之间如此矛盾？为什么一个不断鼓吹“民族主义”的体制，却始终不敢给予人民真正的言论自由？这些问题，或许才是卢比奥事件背后，真正值得中国社会思考的东西。
编辑：周志刚 校对：王滨 翻译：彭小梅
Why Was “Sanctioned” Rubio Still Able to Enter Beijing?
— What the Rubio Incident Reveals About the Hypocrisy and Dictatorial Logic of CCP Diplomacy
Author: Li Congling
Summary: The Rubio incident exposes that the Chinese Communist Party’s so-called “sanctions” are not based on law, international rules, or principles, but are merely tools used by an authoritarian regime to stir nationalist emotions during economic decline. It reveals the hypocrisy of CCP diplomacy and the arbitrariness of its political system.
When U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio entered Beijing as part of Donald Trump’s visit delegation to China, an extremely absurd question once again stood before the world: how could an American politician once loudly “sanctioned” by the CCP and publicly declared “banned from entering China” suddenly be allowed to enter the country again?
This was not merely a diplomatic embarrassment; it was more like a slap in the CCP’s own face. Because it exposed one fact: the CCP’s so-called “sanctions” have never been based on law, international rules, or principles. They are simply emotional, propagandistic, and instrumental political actions by an authoritarian regime. Today someone can be “permanently unwelcome,” tomorrow they can be “warmly received.” Today the CCP can “strongly condemn” someone, tomorrow it can speak of “win-win cooperation.” Today it can label you an “anti-China figure,” and tomorrow it can shake your hand with smiles and pleasantries. Behind all of this lies the ugliest aspect of the CCP regime: it has no truly stable value system, no rule of law, no integrity, and no respect for the rules valued by modern civilized societies. The only things it truly believes in are power, control, and political interests.
The symbolic significance of the Rubio incident lies not merely in the fact that an American official was “unsanctioned,” but in how the process completely exposed the hypocrisy of CCP diplomacy, the arbitrariness of its authoritarian system, and the regime’s broader logic of deceiving the international community. Many people still remember that when the CCP first announced sanctions against Rubio, state media launched wall-to-wall propaganda campaigns. Television news was filled with slogans such as “firm countermeasures,” “absolutely no tolerance,” and “those who interfere in China’s internal affairs will pay the price.” Online, the so-called “50-cent army” and nationalist accounts erupted in outrage, as though Rubio had become an “enemy of the Chinese nation.”
Yet several years later, the very same person was able to enter China with the U.S. presidential delegation and even come into direct contact with Xi Jinping. So the question becomes: who was lying? If Rubio truly was an “anti-China spearhead,” why is he now allowed into Beijing? If the CCP’s sanctions were real and effective, why can they be revoked at any moment? If so-called “national dignity” is sacred, why can it instantly change whenever diplomacy requires it?
The answer is actually very simple. Because within the CCP system, so-called principles have always been just another component of the propaganda machine; so-called sanctions are merely political performances designed to inflame nationalist emotions. They are not acts of rule of law, but acts of power. In normal countries, sanctions usually have clear legal foundations, procedures, and public standards. Whether in the United States, the European Union, or other democratic nations, sanctions imposed on individuals or organizations generally require administrative procedures, legal authorization, public documentation, and traceable justification. Even critics must admit that such systems at least operate within institutional boundaries.
But the CCP is different. The CCP’s so-called “sanctions” often do not even have the most basic legal texts behind them. There is no judicial procedure, no independent review, no public hearing, and no real legal restraint. It can sanction someone today and remove sanctions tomorrow entirely according to political needs. Such a system is, in essence, a form of “imperial politics.” It is not a modern state, but more like an ancient dynasty. If the emperor is pleased, he grants you honors; if he is angry, he exiles you; if he needs you again, he recalls you.
Rules are not important. What matters is the will of the ruler. And this is precisely what makes the CCP so dangerous. Because a regime without institutional boundaries harms not only the international community, but also its own people. Ordinary Chinese citizens are actually very familiar with this “double standard,” because it has long permeated society itself. Today an entrepreneur may still appear on television speaking confidently, and tomorrow he may suddenly “disappear.” Today a celebrity may be heavily promoted by the authorities, and tomorrow be erased from the entire internet. Today a local government may loudly proclaim “support for private enterprise,” and tomorrow it may suddenly impose fines and forced rectifications. Topics allowed for discussion today may become “sensitive content” tomorrow.
In such an environment, no one truly possesses a sense of security. Because what determines everything is never law, but power itself. The Rubio incident is merely a reflection of this systemic logic on the international stage.
Even more ironically, the CCP has long used “counter-sanctions” to manufacture nationalist sentiment. Whenever the international community criticizes human rights issues in Xinjiang, Tibet, or Hong Kong, or condemns the CCP’s suppression of dissidents, Beijing often immediately raises the banner of “counter-sanctions” in an attempt to portray itself domestically as “firmly striking back against Western hegemony.”
But in reality, what the CCP truly fears is not foreign politicians, but the truth itself. It fears the world discussing the Xinjiang internment camps. It fears international attention on the collapse of Hong Kong’s freedoms. It fears global scrutiny of human rights repression in Tibet. It fears that more and more young Chinese people may begin to realize that behind the slogan of “national rejuvenation” stands a highly centralized surveillance state.
That is why the CCP relies so heavily on the propaganda machine. Because it constantly needs to manufacture “external enemies” in order to divert internal contradictions. When the economy declines, blame “Western suppression.” When unemployment rises, blame “foreign hostile forces.” When China faces diplomatic isolation, blame “American containment.” When social dissatisfaction grows, inflame nationalism. This logic is fundamentally similar to that of every authoritarian regime in history. Nazi Germany portrayed Jews as enemies of the nation; Stalin’s Soviet Union constantly fabricated “foreign spies”; North Korea endlessly promotes the narrative that “American imperialism seeks our destruction.” What authoritarian systems fear most has never been foreign enemies, but rather people beginning to think independently.
Because once people realize that the true force oppressing them is not foreign countries but domestic power; that what truly restricts freedom is not the outside world but internal authoritarianism; that what truly traps society in fear is not democratic nations but surveillance and censorship systems — then the entire propaganda machine begins to collapse. And the Rubio incident has placed this propaganda in an awkward position. Because it proves that the CCP’s so-called “principles” can change at any moment; its supposedly “uncompromising” stance can reverse instantly; and the nationalist anger it stirs up is essentially just a political tool. Ordinary people are swept along emotionally, while those who truly hold power continue calculating based on practical interests.
This hypocrisy is the most frightening part. It not only deceives the world, but has long deceived the Chinese people as well.
What deserves even more attention is that in recent years CCP diplomacy has increasingly taken on a “wolf warrior” style. Over the past several decades, CCP diplomacy long adhered to Deng Xiaoping’s strategy of “hide your strength and bide your time,” avoiding direct confrontation whenever possible. But as nationalist propaganda intensified, a group of “wolf warrior diplomats” began constantly manufacturing displays of toughness. They attack foreign journalists on international social media; they publicly insult politicians from other countries; they perform diplomacy through extreme nationalist rhetoric; and they define all criticism as “insulting China.”
The problem, however, is that truly mature great-power diplomacy has never relied on emotions and slogans. A genuinely confident nation does not need to constantly shout “we will strike even at great distance.” A truly strong civilization does not become offended at every perceived slight. A government genuinely supported by its people does not need to rely on information blockades to maintain stability. The reason CCP diplomacy has become increasingly aggressive is fundamentally because it lacks confidence. It knows it cannot withstand international scrutiny over human rights issues. It knows it cannot defend itself on issues of press freedom. It knows that in censorship, internet controls, and suppression of dissent, it stands in sharp contrast to modern democratic societies. Therefore, it can only maintain domestic propaganda effects through increasingly “hardline” postures.
But diplomacy is not domestic propaganda. Inside China, state media can delete posts, ban accounts, and suppress discussion. But in the international community, other countries will not change their positions because of a few slogans. Thus we witness an extremely absurd situation: on one hand the CCP loudly proclaims “severe sanctions,” while on the other hand it must once again reengage, renegotiate, and cooperate. And this very inconsistency is steadily consuming the CCP’s international credibility. The international community may still cooperate with Beijing out of practical interests, but fewer and fewer people genuinely trust the CCP’s promises. Because more and more people have realized that within a system lacking the restraints of rule of law, any promise can change at any moment; any agreement can be overturned due to political necessity; and any “principle” can rapidly disappear in the face of interests.
Behind all of this stands one central figure: Xi Jinping. The increasingly extreme, emotional, and unstable nature of today’s CCP diplomacy is not merely a “system problem,” but also the result of Xi Jinping’s steadily intensifying personal dictatorship. The CCP of earlier decades, although still authoritarian, at least maintained a fragile mechanism of “collective leadership” after the Deng Xiaoping era. Different factions maintained a certain balance, and supreme power was not entirely monopolized by a single individual. This is also why CCP diplomacy in previous decades still retained a degree of “pragmatism.”
But after Xi Jinping came to power, everything began changing rapidly. He continuously purged rivals through “anti-corruption” campaigns; continuously weakened the State Council and the traditional bureaucratic system; continuously strengthened personal authority; and continuously concentrated all major decisions into his own hands. The most symbolic move was his direct amendment of the constitution to abolish presidential term limits. This move completely shattered the power-transition rules the CCP had attempted to establish after reform and opening up, and pushed China back toward the path of a “lifelong leader” and personal dictatorship. From that moment onward, Chinese politics underwent a fundamental transformation. Because a leader without checks and balances will inevitably drag an entire country into politics driven by personal will.
As a result, people began witnessing increasingly familiar historical scenes: the return of personality cults; media repeatedly glorifying the “leader”; schools intensifying political loyalty education; “establishing one supreme authority” becoming open political language; and virtually no genuine dissenting voices remaining within the Party. In such an environment, diplomacy naturally cannot function normally either. Because every diplomatic direction must ultimately serve Xi Jinping’s personal authority. Why does the CCP increasingly emphasize “the East rising and the West declining”? Why does it constantly manufacture nationalist emotions? Why does it increasingly emphasize so-called “great power struggle”? Why does wolf warrior diplomacy continue escalating?
The answer is actually very simple. A dictator must constantly create “external enemies” in order to consolidate internal rule. Because when economic growth slows, social pressure increases, youth unemployment worsens, and the real estate crisis deepens, a regime lacking democratic legitimacy must seek new sources of political support. Nationalism, in particular, is one of the most commonly used tools of authoritarian systems. Thus, under Xi Jinping, China has increasingly resembled a highly tense political machine. Domestically, surveillance intensifies; externally, hostility intensifies; upward, loyalty to the leader intensifies; downward, ideological control intensifies. This model runs entirely contrary to the developmental direction of a truly modern state. A genuinely confident great power should allow criticism. A truly stable society should tolerate differing voices. A genuinely mature government should accept oversight of power. Yet the path Xi Jinping promotes is exactly the opposite.
He constantly emphasizes that “the Party leads everything”; continuously compresses civil society space; continuously strengthens ideology; and continuously drags the state apparatus back toward extreme centralization. The Rubio incident in fact exposes the chaos of diplomacy under such personal dictatorship. Because in a personal dictatorship, so-called diplomatic principles are often merely extensions of the leader’s political needs. Today the regime can act tough; tomorrow it can reverse course. Today it can loudly announce sanctions; tomorrow it can quietly welcome the same person. There are no truly stable rules and no genuine institutional boundaries. Everything depends on the political judgment of the supreme ruler. And this is precisely why the world is becoming increasingly wary of Xi Jinping’s China. What concerns the international community is not simply “China’s rise,” but the fact that a country possessing enormous economic and military power is moving back toward extreme personal dictatorship.
History has repeatedly demonstrated that when a country lacks checks on power; when a leader is free from oversight; when everyone can only praise and never criticize; then the ultimate result is usually not stability, but danger. Whether it was the Great Famine and Cultural Revolution under Mao Zedong, or the disasters produced by other authoritarian regimes throughout history, all have already proven that personality cults ultimately harm the entire nation and its people. And today, China is once again showing these deeply unsettling tendencies.
This is also why more and more countries are becoming wary of Chinese supply chains; why more and more companies are diversifying risks; and why more and more democratic nations are reassessing their relationships with Beijing. The issue has never been only economics, but trust. And trust is precisely the thing authoritarian systems struggle most to build. Because a regime that relies on lies to maintain stability can hardly earn genuine international confidence. It can demand that people “trust the Party”; it can use propaganda machines to manufacture an image of being “great, glorious, and correct”; it can suppress differing voices through censorship systems; but it cannot force the world to believe it.
The Rubio incident is, in fact, a mirror. What it reflects is not merely a diplomatic embarrassment, but the deeper problems of the entire CCP system — a power structure without institutional constraints, without genuine rule of law, and without stable principles. Such a structure can only continue relying on propaganda, nationalism, and emotional mobilization to sustain its rule. Yet history has already proven countless times that stability maintained through fear cannot last forever; authority built on lies is ultimately fragile; and anger manufactured through propaganda will one day inevitably turn back upon itself.
Today, the CCP can announce “sanctions” at any time; tomorrow, it can revoke them at any time. Today it can portray someone as an “enemy”; tomorrow it can invite that same person back into Beijing. But what cannot be changed so easily is people’s memory of the truth.
More and more Chinese people have already begun to realize that so-called “hardline diplomacy” is often merely political theater; that so-called “nationalist anger” is frequently the product of propaganda manipulation; and that so-called “national dignity” is often used as a tool by those in power. A country truly worthy of respect should not be built upon lies. A genuinely modern society should not allow a small group of people to arbitrarily determine the rules.
Whether Rubio can enter Beijing is actually not the most important question. The truly important questions are these: Why can a regime that constantly proclaims “governing according to law” treat sanctions like a farce that changes at will? Why can a government that endlessly emphasizes “national dignity” be so contradictory between propaganda and reality? Why does a system that constantly promotes nationalism still refuse to grant its people genuine freedom of speech?
Perhaps these are the real questions Chinese society should reflect upon behind the Rubio incident.
Editor: Zhou Zhigang Proofreader: Wang Bin Translator:Peng Xiaomei
