“The Opposition Party” China Human Rights Watch Briefing, Issue No. 33 (July 13, 2026)
Author: Zhang Weiqing
This issue profiles the persecuted individual: Zhang Peng, stage and pen name: Zhang Neixian, born in October 1986, a native of Beijing, long-term resident inside the Tsinghua University campus in Beijing, independent film director, screenwriter, stand-up comedian, and YouTuber.
Latest Updates: At approximately 11:00 PM on the night of July 1, 2026, multiple police officers went to Zhang Peng’s home located at Tsinghua University and took him away in handcuffs. Subsequently, his family received a detention notice issued by the Haidian Branch of the Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau. The notice indicated that Zhang Peng has been criminally detained on suspicion of the crime of “picking quarrels and provoking trouble” and is currently held at the Beijing Haidian District Detention Center. Around the time of his arrest, his domestic Sina Weibo and Bilibili accounts, which had over 100,000 followers, were completely shut down and blocked by the authorities.
I. Resume
1. 2010–2025: Graduating from the Communication University of China after 2010, Zhang Peng (Zhang Neixian) was active in Chinese independent film and youth culture circles for a long period. As an independent director, screenwriter, and producer, he directed several independent films reflecting the confusion and real-life dilemmas of contemporary Chinese youth. His representative works include Idle Youth, Strawberry 100%, and Those Five Ridge Beasts’ Days, which earned him considerable recognition on the Chinese internet and among independent film enthusiasts.
2. From January 2025: He launched the “Zhang Neixian Stand-up Comedy” channel on the overseas video platform YouTube. In a mere year and a half, he published over 360 videos and accumulated nearly 50,000 subscribers, officially starting to disseminate his political satire and humorous works via the internet.
II. Political Stance
1. Satirizing Current Affairs: Utilizing his signature Beijing accent and witty routines, he incisively satirized China’s current social ills, political system, economic hardships, and the omnipresent system of speech censorship.
2. Focusing on Cross-Strait and Geopolitics: On his program, he spoke out bluntly and without hesitation on highly sensitive topics such as cross-strait relations and international geopolitics, deconstructing and mocking official grand narratives.
3. Advocating for Freedom of Speech: He advocated that artistic creators and ordinary citizens should enjoy the right to expression, and opposed the encroachment of totalitarianism on individual thoughts and living spaces.
III. Arrest and Sentencing Experience
1. Late June–July 1, 2026: His politically sensitive and Taiwan-related comments published overseas were reported to the authorities by domestic Chinese internet users.
2. Afternoon of July 1, 2026: Domestic social media platforms such as Weibo and Bilibili completely shut down his domestic accounts on the grounds of “publishing harmful political remarks and maliciously attacking the Party and the State.”
3. 11:00 PM on the Night of July 1, 2026: Beijing Haidian District police arrested him at his residence.
4. Current Status: The case is currently in the investigation stage by public security organs, and he has not yet faced formal prosecution or sentencing. He remains detained at the Beijing Haidian District Detention Center.
IV. Social and International Evaluation
1. Social and Grassroots Evaluation: Audiences both inside and outside China regard him as an exceptionally courageous and talented member of China’s new-generation intelligentsia. He chose to “keep his physical body inside the wall while letting his voice be heard outside the wall,” using a uniquely Beijing style of humor to confront totalitarian fear.
2. International and Human Rights Community Evaluation: International public opinion and transnational human rights advocacy organizations are highly concerned about this case. Commentators point out that Zhang Peng’s ordeal is a typical case of the Chinese government further extending transnational political repression and speech censorship into the fields of culture, art, and comedic satire, signaling a comprehensive shrinkage of the space for free creation and expression for Chinese citizens.
V. Appeals of “The Opposition Party” Human Rights Watch Department
1. Immediate and Unconditional Release: We strongly call upon the Chinese authorities to abide by their constitutional commitments to protect citizens’ freedom of speech, creation, and expression, immediately withdraw the absurd political charge of “picking quarrels and provoking trouble” against Zhang Peng, and release him unconditionally.
2. Safeguarding Legal Litigation Rights: During the detention period, the Beijing Haidian District Detention Center must strictly guarantee Zhang Peng’s legal rights to meet with his defense lawyers and family members, ensure his right to be informed, safeguard his nutrition and physical health, and strictly prohibit any form of torture or inhumane treatment.
3. Halting the Persecution of Independent Creators: We call upon the international community, cultural and artistic circles, stand-up comedy peers, and transnational human rights organizations to continuously speak out for Zhang Peng, and jointly resist and condemn the Chinese authorities’ transnational political purges targeting political satirists and independent creators.
Editor: Zhao JieProofreader: Cheng XiaoxiaoTranslator: Ge Bing
Abstract: The ninth anniversary of Mr. Liu Xiaobo’s passing. Commemorators held a memorial event by the seaside, paying tribute in silence and remembering his lifelong commitment to the concepts of freedom, dignity, and human rights.
Today marks the ninth year since Mr. Liu Xiaobo left us. We stand on the shore, letting the sea breeze brush against our faces, looking out at that boundless azure, using a method that is the quietest yet also the most resolute to pay tribute to this watcher of freedom.
Nine years ago, he was imprisoned and worn down, up until the final moment of his life. He was unable to embrace that wider world as he had wished, and his physical body was ultimately transformed into a wisp of light smoke, merging into the vast ocean. That was the method by which the regime attempted to make him vanish without a sound, but they never expected that the ocean has no boundaries—just like the freedom he pursued, which from then on became ubiquitous.
Standing on the coastline, listening to the sound of waves crashing against the reefs wave after wave, that sound feels like his unfinished whispers. We remember his Charter 08, and we remember his soul-stirring words when facing suffering: “I have no enemies, and no hatred.” We remember his resilience in using reason and goodwill to confront tyranny, and we also remember the tears and hot blood he shed for this land.
A span of nine years is enough to make many memories fade, and enough for the world to undergo earth-shaking changes. But today, when we cast our eyes toward the horizon, that conviction in our hearts regarding dignity, rights, and being “born free” becomes even clearer under the washing of the ocean waves.
The regime can build high walls, can blockade speech, and can even take away a person’s life, but they can never imprison the wind, nor can they ever stop every single drop of water that flows into the ocean.
Mr. Liu Xiaobo, you see, nine years have passed, and the ocean waves are still surging. We have not forgotten; we are still listening. May you find eternal tranquility and freedom amidst the sound of the waves on the other shore.
Editor: Zhong Ran Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao Translator: Shen Meihua
The Wind of the Pacific Cannot Disperse the Deep Miss for Liu Xiaobo
Author: Shen Meihua
Abstract: On July 12, 2026, an event commemorating the ninth anniversary of Mr. Liu Xiaobo’s passing was held at Santa Monica Beach in the United States. Participants recalled Liu Xiaobo through speeches, poetry recitations, and floral tributes, expressing their persistence and respect for the ideals of freedom, democracy, and human rights.
On the afternoon of July 12, 2026, I came to Santa Monica Beach in California, USA, to participate in the commemoration ceremony for the ninth anniversary of Mr. Liu Xiaobo’s passing.
There was no sunshine at Santa Monica Beach that day. The sky was low, clouds shrouded the Pacific Ocean, and the sea breeze blew in chilly gusts. In the distance, waves kept surging toward the shore and then slowly receding. Such weather seemed to be expressing a lingering sorrow that could not be dispersed.
This was originally a place filled with laughter and tourists, yet we gathered by the seaside with heavy and solemn hearts, to jointly commemorate a man who dedicated his entire life—and ultimately lost his freedom and his life—for the freedom, democracy, and human rights of China: Mr. Liu Xiaobo.
At the event site, a large photograph of Mr. Liu Xiaobo was displayed, with fresh flowers resting quietly before his portrait. People attending the event dressed in dark-colored clothing, holding commemorative banners that read: “从来不需要想起，永远也不会忘记” (Never needing to be reminded, forever impossible to forget) and “Always in Our Hearts, Never Forgotten.” Standing in the crowd and looking at Mr. Liu Xiaobo’s photograph, my emotions could not settle for a long time.
During the event, Mr. Zhu Yufu, one of the founders of the China Democracy Party, delivered a speech. While reminiscing about Mr. Liu Xiaobo, he also shared some past stories of his meetings with Mr. Liu Xiaobo’s wife, Liu Xia. Through Mr. Zhu Yufu’s personal recollections, it felt as if we approached Liu Xiaobo and Liu Xia from another perspective, and more genuinely felt the suffering and persistence they experienced over those long years. Subsequently, several pro-democracy figures and event participants spoke one after another, recalling Mr. Liu Xiaobo from different angles, expressing their remembrance of and respect for him, as well as their concern for the cause of freedom, democracy, and human rights in China. For me, these accounts from those who personally lived through it made Liu Xiaobo no longer just a name in history, but a more real, flesh-and-blood person.
Subsequently, the event entered the poetry recitation segment. Led by the hosts Zhang Zhijun and Zheng Wei, the participants on-site jointly expressed their grief for Mr. Liu Xiaobo through poetry. The waves kept crashing against the shore, and the sound of recitation, accompanied by the wind of the Pacific, echoed across Santa Monica Beach.
Among the poems read that day, the one that left the deepest impression on me was “July Poem — Remembrance” by the poet Mr. Cai Chu:
July Poem — Remembrance
Author: Cai Chu
Cherishing the memory of an old tree: Its roots, dug deep into the earth; Its leaves, pushing open the dark clouds. Even if split by thunder, It still stands upright. Cherishing the memory of a person: Who wrote of love with ashes, Who, upon the sea, turned sorrow Into an address in the underworld. Cherishing the memory of a soul: That has not departed far away, Rushing toward you like ocean waves, Standing firm like a reef, shaped into a charter. Remembrance sprouts new green year after year; Before remembrance grows into a tree, I will not forget To leave the seeds to the world of mortals.
When this poem resounded by the seaside, my heart was deeply touched. Especially the lines “Standing firm like a reef, shaped into a charter”and “To leave the seeds to the world of mortals” made me realize that although Mr. Liu Xiaobo has departed, his pursuit of freedom, democracy, and human rights did not vanish with the end of his life. The thoughts and spirit he left behind are like a seed, remembered by latecomers and continuously passed on by generation after generation of those who pursue freedom.
After the poetry recitation concluded, the song “Farewell” by Pu Shu played at the venue. Carrying our deep remembrance of Mr. Liu Xiaobo, everyone sang this familiar song together. There were no ornate expressions, nor clamorous voices, only the simple melody and sincere emotions slowly echoing amidst the Pacific sea breeze and the sound of waves. At that moment, the singing of “Farewell” seemed not only to be bidding farewell to an old friend who had departed nine years ago, but also to be expressing our endless longing and respect for Mr. Liu Xiaobo. In the singing, there was reluctance, there was sadness, and there was also a remembrance that transcends time.
Subsequently, everyone, with a solemn mood, took turns to lay flowers before the portrait of Mr. Liu Xiaobo. The fresh flowers were placed on the beach, with the vast Pacific Ocean behind them. At that moment, I understood the significance of this commemorative event even more: we commemorate Liu Xiaobo not only to yearn for a person who has passed away, but even more to remember the ideals he once persisted in, and the price he paid for freedom.
Since coming to the United States, I have participated in more and more activities related to Chinese democracy and human rights. I have also begun to learn about many historical events and figures that could not be openly understood in China in the past. Mr. Liu Xiaobo is one of them. Because he persisted in his political beliefs and pursued peaceful political reform, he lost his freedom, and even in the final stage of his life, he never obtained true freedom.
I believe that a person should not be imprisoned for expressing their political views; nor should a country rely on blockades, censorship, and suppression to maintain its rule. A truly healthy society should allow different voices to exist, and should respect everyone’s fundamental right to express their thoughts and pursue freedom.
Mr. Liu Xiaobo was once so far away from freedom, yet today, we can stand on free soil to openly commemorate him. This makes me realize even more that freedom is never taken for granted. Precisely because someone once paid the price for freedom, those who follow should cherish and defend freedom all the more.
Nine years have passed, and Mr. Liu Xiaobo has left this world, but his name has not been forgotten.
Never needing to be reminded, because it will forever be impossible to forget.
The wind of the Pacific still blows, and the waves still crash against the shore. After the event ended, people gradually dispersed, but I believe that as long as there are still people willing to remember Liu Xiaobo, willing to tell his story, and willing to continue the pursuit of freedom, democracy, and human rights, the spirit he persisted in will never vanish.
Mr. Liu Xiaobo, may you rest in peace.
We will not forget you.
Editor: Zhong Ran Proofreader: Mao Yiwei Translator: Shen Meihua
—San Francisco Democracy Activists Commemorate the Ninth Anniversary of Liu Xiaobo’s Passing
On July 12, all attendees gathered for a group photo to jointly commemorate the ninth anniversary of the passing of Mr. Liu Xiaobo. (All photos in this article are provided by Guan Yongjie)
Author: Lyu Xiaojing
Abstract: On July 12, 2026, people from all walks of life in the Bay Area held a memorial event at San Leandro Marina Park to mark the ninth anniversary of Liu Xiaobo’s passing. Through moments of silence, flower-laying, poetry recitations, and speeches, they recalled Liu Xiaobo’s life and expressed their commitment to the values of freedom, human rights, and the rule of law.
[San Francisco News] The sea breeze blows gently as the tide rises and falls. On the afternoon of July 12, 2026, by the shore of San Leandro Marina Park in the San Francisco Bay Area, there were no noisy drums or stirring music, only bundles of pure white flowers and a group of people standing in quiet contemplation. Democracy activists from the San Francisco Headquarters of the China Democratic Party, the Chinese Democratic Education Foundation, the Fremont Branch of the China Democratic Party, and various circles in the Bay Area gathered here. Through a moment of silence, flower-laying, poetry recitations, and keynote speeches, they deeply commemorated the ninth anniversary of the passing of Mr. Liu Xiaobo, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate, prominent Chinese writer, and human rights activist.
Nine years ago, the Chinese Communist Party not only forced Liu Xiaobo to spend the final journey of his life in imprisonment and under strict surveillance, but also scattered his ashes into the sea. There is no tombstone, no cemetery, and no physical landmark to visit and pay respects. To this day, this decision is still viewed by many as a symbolic attempt to erase historical memory.
Yet, today, nine years later, people still come to the seaside. For they believe that memory will not dissipate with the ocean waves, and conscience will not fall silent with the passage of years.
As the event began, all attendees stood solemnly for a one-minute moment of silence in honor of Liu Xiaobo. Following this, participants took turns to respectfully lay flowers before the “empty chair” that symbolized Mr. Liu Xiaobo. At the venue, memorial poems written for Liu Xiaobo by Wu Zuolai, Li Yingqiang, Zou Hangtung, and others were recited, along with excerpts from Liu Xiaobo’s final statement in court, “I Have No Enemies.”
“Freedom of expression is the foundation of human rights, the source of humanity, and the mother of truth. To eliminate freedom of speech, to trample on human rights, and to stifle humanity is to suppress truth.”
Sentence by sentence, these words resonated slowly in the sea breeze, plunging those gathered into a long, reflective silence.
In their opening remarks, hosts Liu Jingtao and Gao Yingfen stated that in mainland China, public commemoration of Liu Xiaobo has long been suppressed. Many citizens have faced detention, sentencing, police summons, or long-term surveillance simply for conducting seaside memorials, offering flowers, or publishing eulogies. From the Jiangmen seaside memorial case in Guangdong to numerous recent incidents where individuals were persecuted for mourning Liu Xiaobo, these events serve as a constant reminder to the world: in China, simply remembering a person who pursued freedom sometimes requires courage in itself. Yet, it is precisely because some refuse to forget and insist on bearing witness that Liu Xiaobo’s spirit of pursuing freedom, democracy, human rights, and the rule of law can be continuously passed down and remain forever alive.
As the keynote guest speaker of the event, Fang Zheng, Chairman of the San Francisco Headquarters of the China Democratic Party and a survivor of the June Fourth Massacre, was the first to speak. He recalled with deep affection that Liu Xiaobo was not only his own teacher, but also a shared spiritual mentor to countless democracy activists. From Tiananmen Square in 1989, to Charter 08, and to the Nobel Peace Prize, Liu Xiaobo consistently adhered to the concepts of peace, rationality, and non-violence; even when imprisoned, he never abandoned his pursuit of freedom and conscience.
Fang Zheng specifically looked back on that unforgettable period of history in the early morning of June 4, 1989. He stated that, in order to prevent more students from shedding blood and sacrificing their lives, Liu Xiaobo and Hou Dejian took the initiative to negotiate with the martial law troops, ultimately facilitating the peaceful evacuation of a large number of students from Tiananmen Square. However, this man, who made the greatest effort to protect human lives, paid the price of a prolonged imprisonment for it and ultimately failed to walk out of prison alive.
Addressing the long-standing external controversy regarding the claim that “Liu Xiaobo did not see the June Fourth Massacre,” Fang Zheng also responded. He explained that what Liu Xiaobo meant at the time was that during his evacuation from Tiananmen Square, he did not personally witness students being massacred. This was a truthful account based on his physical location at the time; it did not mean that the bloody crackdown of June Fourth did not happen, and it should certainly not be taken out of context by the Chinese Communist Party to deny historical facts.
Fang Zheng recalled that less than two hours after he left the square, he witnessed tanks running over students and civilians on West Chang’an Avenue with his own eyes, losing both his legs as a result. He believes that every eyewitness to history only sees a fragment of that history, and Liu Xiaobo himself later reflected upon this. What moved him most was that when Liu Xiaobo learned he had won the Nobel Peace Prize, his very first words were: “This prize is dedicated to all the martyrs of June Fourth.” In Fang Zheng’s view, this not only reflected Liu Xiaobo’s commitment to remembering history, but also demonstrated that he never gave up his respect for truth, conscience, and the deceased.
Fang Zheng stated that the Chinese Communist Party not only took Liu Xiaobo’s life, but also attempted to erase people’s memories of him. He pointed out that the authorities scattering Liu Xiaobo’s ashes into the sea was not merely a way to handle his remains, but an attempt to eliminate a physical coordinate where future generations could pay their respects—without a tombstone, there can be no memorial rituals; without a cemetery, there can be no gatherings; and without a physical entity, it is difficult to form a sustained public memory. Yet, he said with conviction: “Wherever there is water, there is Liu Xiaobo.” This simple sentence spoke to the shared sentiment of countless democracy activists, becoming the most deeply moving statement of the day’s memorial event.
Democratic Party member Li Shuqing choked back tears several times during his speech, casting a solemn atmosphere over the venue.
Compared to rousing slogans, it was the genuine emotions displayed on-site that were most unforgettable. During the speech segment, when Democratic Party member Li Shuqing spoke of how Liu Xiaobo was imprisoned by the Chinese Communist Party for eleven years for the sake of freedom, human rights, and democracy—ultimately failing to walk out of prison alive—his voice suddenly choked up. He paused several times, unable to continue speaking for a long moment. Host Liu Jingtao, standing beside him, gently patted his shoulder to comfort him. The venue instantly fell into complete silence, and many attendees silently bowed their heads, their eyes welling with tears. There were no grand words, nor any deliberate dramatization; at this moment, people used silence to express their deepest remembrance of a man of conscience.
Following this, several democracy activists shared their thoughts from different perspectives, focusing on the spiritual legacy left behind by Liu Xiaobo.
Cai Xiaoli, Director of the Henan Working Committee of the National Committee of the China Democratic Party, stated that on this day nine years ago, Liu Xiaobo ultimately passed away from illness under imprisonment and surveillance, becoming an indelible scar on the cause of Chinese democracy and human rights. She pointed out that while tyranny may take a person’s life, it can never stifle the seeds of freedom that Liu Xiaobo sowed with his own hands, nor can it extinguish people’s pursuit of democracy, freedom, and human rights. At the same time, she called on society to maintain sustained attention on human rights defenders and young students who are still facing suppression, noting that under dictatorial rule, the ideals, justice, and futures of many young people are continuously being destroyed. She emphasized that commemorating Liu Xiaobo is meant to make the living more courageous, so that the belief in pursuing freedom can be passed down from generation to generation.
Democratic Party member Li Xiaolin stated that commemorating Liu Xiaobo is not only about remembering an intellectual and a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, but more importantly, about reflecting anew on the spiritual wealth he left to Chinese society. He believed that Liu Xiaobo’s long-standing adherence to peace, rationality, and non-violence, along with his advocacy for freedom, human rights, the rule of law, and constitutionalism, continues to inspire those who follow. Confronted with reality, people might ponder how much practical room remains for a peaceful path; yet, whatever the answer may be, maintaining independent thought and never giving up the pursuit of a just society is in itself the best way to commemorate Liu Xiaobo.
Guo Zhijun, Director of the Activity Department of the San Francisco Headquarters of the China Democratic Party, stated that what Liu Xiaobo left behind is not only a Nobel Peace Prize, but more importantly, a spiritual power of adhering to peace, rationality, and non-violence. He pointed out that Liu Xiaobo’s declaration, “I have no enemies and no hatred,” was not a sign of weakness, but rather the courage to still uphold humanity and tolerance despite long-term persecution. Following this, Guo Zhijun recited excerpts of “I Have No Enemies” on-site, once again prompting those present to reflect on freedom of speech, civic responsibility, and the spirit of the rule of law.
Democratic Party member Guo Jianxin stated that Liu Xiaobo was a democracy activist who consistently adhered to peace and advocated for human rights, the rule of law, and political reform, yet suffered long-term imprisonment for these actions and ultimately failed to walk out of prison alive. He believed that Liu Xiaobo’s passing was not only the tragedy of a democratic pioneer, but also reflected the grim reality facing human rights and the rule of law in China. He called on more people to continue striving for democracy, freedom, and the rule of law, and demanded that the Chinese Communist Party release all prisoners of conscience and political prisoners who remain detained.
Democratic Party member Kang Jiaming stated that commemorating Liu Xiaobo is not only about remembering a democracy activist who passed away nine years ago, but more importantly, about passing down a spirit of pursuing freedom, dignity, and conscience. He pointed out that a truly civilized and powerful nation is demonstrated not only by economic prosperity and technological development, but even more so by whether it respects human rights, guarantees the rule of law, and allows its people to freely express differing opinions. Silence cannot conceal the truth, forgetting cannot rewrite history, and fear will ultimately fail to defeat conscience.
Yuan Xia, a member of the China Democratic Party from Redding in Northern California, drove three and a half hours alone to San Francisco in order to attend the memorial event that day. She said that her heart was extremely heavy all along the way, because coming here today was not just to remember a democratic pioneer who passed away nine years ago, but also to guard a spirit that will never be extinguished. She believed that Liu Xiaobo spent his entire life pursuing democracy, freedom, human rights, and the rule of law; a truly powerful nation is not built upon economy and technology, but is instead established on the foundation of respecting human dignity, civil rights, and the equal rule of law. She stated that coming here today was not only to commemorate, but also to guard, hoping that Liu Xiaobo’s spirit of pursuing freedom, human rights, and the rule of law can continue to be passed down.
Attendees laid flowers before the “empty chair” symbolizing Mr. Liu Xiaobo to pay their respects.
At the end of the event, all attendees returned to the seaside, laid flowers, and gazed out at the vast Pacific Ocean. Some bowed their heads in silent prayer, while others looked into the far distance for a long time, reluctant to leave.
Nine years ago, the Chinese Communist Party scattered Liu Xiaobo’s ashes into the sea, hoping that from then on there would be no tombstone, no coordinate, and no place where people could gather to mourn. Yet, today, nine years later, people still come to the seaside, because they commemorate not only a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, but also a thinker who consistently upheld freedom, human rights, the rule of law, and conscience.
The ocean waves can scatter flower petals, but they cannot scatter memory; the wind can blow the ashes far away, but it cannot extinguish a nation’s yearning for freedom and dignity.
Just as Mr. Fang Zheng said: “Wherever there is water, there is Liu Xiaobo.”
Although Liu Xiaobo has departed, his name still resonates in the sea breeze, and the ideas, courage, and convictions he left behind will continue to inspire those who follow to march firmly on the road of pursuing freedom, human rights, the rule of law, and democracy.
List of democracy activists who participated in this event: Fang Zheng, Liu Jingtao, Li Shuqing, Gao Yingfen, Lyu Xiaojing, Li Kai, Guan Yongjie, Guo Jianxin, Zhou Yunlong, Guo Zhijun, Liu Chenchen, Jiang Shuqing, Hu Shuai, Hu Lili, Li Xiaolin, Zhang Shancheng, Wu Zhichuang, Xiong Chaofeng, Yuan Qiang, Zhang Pengzhan, Kang Jiaming, Huang Xiaomin, Lu Zhanqiang, Cai Xiaoli, Yuan Xia, Chen Suoming, Wang Yifan, Li Xiaoyan, Yao Rongtao, Zhou Xiaojun, Zhong Ran (names listed in no particular order)
Attendees took turns to lay flowers in front of the “empty chair” symbolizing Mr. Liu Xiaobo to pay their respects (selected photos)
Lyu Xiaojing, Deputy Director of the Propaganda Department of the China Democratic Party, laid flowers before the “empty chair” symbolizing Mr. Liu Xiaobo to pay her respects.
Democratic Party member Hu Shuai, holding his two-month-old baby in his arms, laid flowers before the “empty chair” symbolizing Mr. Liu Xiaobo to pay his respects.
Zhang Shancheng, Director of the Newark Branch of the China Democratic Party, laid flowers before the “empty chair” symbolizing Liu Xiaobo to pay his respects.
Attendees laid flowers before the “empty chair” symbolizing Mr. Liu Xiaobo to pay their respects.
Zhou Yunlong, Vice Chairman of the Los Angeles National Committee of the China Democratic Party, laid flowers before the “empty chair” symbolizing Liu Xiaobo to pay his respects.
Editor: Hu Lili Proofreader: Mao Yiwei Translator: Ge Bing
Remonstrating with Death or Martyrdom for the Cause?
Author: Mobei Guxia (The Lone Paladin of the Northern Desert)
Abstract
This article recounts how Gao Shanwen was silenced in 2024 after speaking candidly about the real causes of China’s economic decline, and how, on July 7, 2026, Chinese Communist Party media reported that he had died of cancer. It is written in memory of Gao Shanwen and of all those who have dared to speak truth and offer honest counsel.
As a piece of “means of production,” Gao Shanwen was finally used up by the CCP state on July 7, 2026.
But his death was not the end of the story.
Wave after wave of emotion has surged across the internet. What force is driving this extraordinary outpouring?
Public reports stated that Gao Shanwen died of cancer. Modern life science has shown that cancer develops under certain triggering conditions. Yet I cannot shake an even stronger feeling: somewhere, somehow, it seems that Gao Shanwen remonstrated with his life—or, perhaps more precisely, gave his life in martyrdom.
Yes. What made Gao Shanwen most famous was precisely this:
He dared to tell the truth.
Since 2017, the intellectual world of the CCP state—including, but by no means limited to, the field of economics—has been swept by an autumn chill. Ten thousand horses have fallen silent.
At a closed-door meeting in Shenzhen and later at a forum in Washington in 2024, Gao Shanwen pierced the paper window surrounding the official GDP and unemployment figures.
His original words were:
“My own guess is that over the past two to three years, the actual growth rate may have averaged around 2 percent, even though the official figure was close to 5 percent.”
And:
“If my guess is correct, I think a more reasonable forecast would be growth of between 3 and 4 percent over the next three to five years. However, we know that the official figure will always be around 5 percent.”
The background was this: he first made these remarks at an internal strategy meeting held by SDIC Securities in December 2024. After a recording of his remarks was leaked, he directly angered the authorities at the top and was subsequently silenced.
Why were those remarks considered so explosive?
Because he was, in effect, openly saying:
Real economic growth had been cut in half—and the official figure would always be reported as 5 percent.
Later, he repeated the point at a forum in Washington.
After that, he was essentially subjected to “social death.”
To be socially dead is to be alive in body but already dead in public life.
Even more devastating was what he said about the real-estate crisis. He tore away the covering and named the “principal culprit” directly:
the government.
His words were:
“The principal culprit behind China’s economic depression is the government, which created the real-estate crisis; private property developers are suffering arterial bleeding from the neck.”
This came from a 2024 speech that was later deleted. The title itself was along those lines.
He directly blamed the real-estate liquidity crisis on the Party’s mode of leadership and described private enterprises as suffering from “arterial bleeding.”
And this was already 2024.
To call such remarks merely “the harshest possible criticism” would already be putting it politely.
As an economist, his lament for the Chinese economy and his resistance to excessive government coercion increasingly resembled a man offering his life in remonstrance—a man sacrificing himself for what he believed to be true.
Had Heaven possessed eyes, or had those high in the halls of power possessed wisdom enough to listen to Gao’s counsel, perhaps the Chinese economy would not have continued deteriorating, and perhaps society as a whole would not have gone racing headlong northward.
Yesterday, Xinhua News Agency published yet another grand discourse praising the “brilliant achievements of North Korea’s development.”
What stronger proof could there be?
China is once again accelerating in its naked sprint toward the North.
North Korea today is our tomorrow.
Kim Jong Un’s method of ruling the Party and the country is becoming the preferred model.
But there is no such thing as “if” in the real world.
For Gao Shanwen, the road of martyrdom became the only road left—like the one narrow path up Mount Hua.
In fact, as early as 2018, Gao had already issued a warning:
“Young people, wash up and go to sleep.”
That came from a private speech in 2018.
At the time, he criticized the indiscriminate, one-size-fits-all deleveraging campaign and predicted that it would trigger a liquidity crisis among private enterprises.
Six years later, looking back, his warning was largely vindicated.
He now appears almost like Liu Bowen, the legendary strategist and prophet of more than a thousand years ago.
At this moment, another story with a remarkably similar resonance comes to mind.
I was there in person, although the supporting players are no longer present. The main speaker, to a greater or lesser extent, had absorbed some of the theoretical insights later associated with Gao Shanwen.
Around September 2019—I no longer remember the exact month—at Peking University Shenzhen Graduate School, the prominent economist Jin Yanshi made two statements that would later circulate widely in the marketplace:
First:
2019 was the worst year of the previous ten years, but it would be the best year of the next ten years.
Second:
According to the direction set at the highest level, the private economy has, up to this point, already completed its historical mission. Its good days are gone and will never return.
After Jin Yanshi finished speaking, I returned to the entrepreneurs around me and earnestly repeated the message.
And here comes that word “if” again.
If those entrepreneurs had understood what was being said at the time, how different might things have been?
Faced today with Xinhua News Agency’s lengthy June discourse on “The Great Process of the Three Great Socialist Transformations,” entrepreneurs are trembling.
That includes, but is not limited to, the five people who reportedly took their own lives recently, among them the head of Easyhome.
Perhaps their outcomes might have been different.
But there is no “if.”
Just as there was no “if” for Gao Shanwen.
At the end of 2024, the Securities Association of China issued a document requiring chief economists to report externally directed public remarks in advance.
Those whose “improper words or conduct” repeatedly created reputational risks were to be dealt with severely, up to and including dismissal.
On November 24, 2025, Gao Shanwen left SDIC Securities. His information could no longer be found on the website of the Securities Association of China. Contemporary financial reporting likewise reported his departure and the disappearance of his registration information.
Gao Shanwen became a typical example of what happens when there is no “if.”
Did Gao Shanwen give meaning to the idea of dying in remonstrance?
Or did dying in remonstrance give meaning to Gao Shanwen?
Gao Shanwen could no longer concern himself with whatever floods might come after his death.
Yet reality, almost inadvertently, bestowed upon him an extraordinary honor:
the internet has been flooded with essays, tributes and surging waves of remembrance.
Of course, some people have compared Gao Shanwen with Li Keqiang, implying that Gao did not deserve such a high level of public tribute.
I disagree.
Li Keqiang was not merely a member of the CCP wolf pack; he stood at the very summit of its halls of power.
Had he not been sufficiently ruthless, or sufficiently complicit in a system of evil—even if not always skillful in exercising that evil—he could never have risen to such a position.
And yet, in the end, he merely uttered one famous truth:
“There are more than 600 million people in China whose monthly income is around 1,000 yuan.”
More importantly, at the 20th National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party, when the entire Party organization—symbolized by Hu Jintao and Li Keqiang himself—was humiliated before the eyes of 1.4 billion Chinese people, they chose silence.
At that moment, silence was unquestionably complicity.
Had Li Keqiang smashed his cup and risen in open defiance, perhaps today’s China might already have been transformed.
Perhaps, in doing so, he might even have saved himself from his own untimely death.
Gao Shanwen, however, needs only these lines—lines that are not quite poetry, yet deserve to live like poetry—to achieve immortality:
Those who control the productive forcesare suited to going overseas;
those who control the relations of productionare suited to remaining inside the country.
As for me,
I am the means of production.
As an economist, as an intellectual with a conscience, and finally as one more piece of “means of production,” Gao Shanwen was at last exhausted by the CCP state and died of illness on July 7, 2026.
With this essay, I pay tribute to Mr. Gao and to all those “means of production” throughout the world who have already been used up—or are still waiting to be used up.
Many years ago, I never seriously reflected on what freedom truly meant, nor did I ever contemplate the actual relationship between the system and ordinary people. For the me of that time, life was nothing more than taking care of my family, raising my children, and striving to live a good life. I believed that as long as one was hard-working and dutiful (benfen), life would always progress in a positive direction. However, everything that happened later made me realize for the very first time that the destiny of an ordinary person is, at times, not entirely held in their own hands.
For every woman, childbearing should inherently be a right that belongs to herself. Whether to have children, when to have them, and how to arrange family life should be decided jointly by the husband and wife, rather than having choices made for them by the outside world. Yet, it was only when personal will clashed with the system that I truly experienced just how infinitesimal an ordinary person is in the face of a massive state apparatus.
That experience altered not only my body, but more importantly, the way I view the world. I began to constantly question: why is it that for such a vital life decision, I possessed no genuine right to choose? Why can a family’s decision regarding children be completely overturned due to a single government policy? Why is the voice of an ordinary person so faint, to the point where even the opportunities for explanation and appeal are extremely limited?
These questions have hovered in my mind for many years.
At first, I merely felt that I had encountered personal misfortune. Later, I gradually came to understand that what truly warrants reflection is not individual misfortune, but rather why more and more people share similar experiences. When the plight of one individual repeatedly occurs across different families, different regions, and different eras, it ceases to be merely the story of a single household and instead becomes a social phenomenon that demands profound reflection.
As time passed, I began to read more materials concerning modern social governance, the rule of law, and democratic systems. I discovered that a truly mature society is respected not because it possesses formidable administrative capabilities, but because it knows how to restrain power and protect individual rights.
Any system will formulate public policies, but modern civilization consistently emphasizes that the public interest cannot be pursued at the cost of the infinite sacrifice of individual rights. The significance of the law’s existence is not merely to vest the government with the power to manage society, but more importantly, to delineate the boundaries of authority and prevent any power from expanding without limitation.
It was precisely because of such reflections that I began to re-evaluate and understand freedom anew.
In the past, I always regarded freedom as an abstract concept, far removed from the lives of ordinary people. Later, I discovered that freedom is actually manifested in every single detail of daily life: freedom means that a family can decide its own way of living; it means that an individual can plan their future according to their own will; it means that when facing momentous life choices, one does not need to worry that their own volition will be easily supplanted by others.
Freedom is not the absolute absence of restraint, but rather that within the framework of the law, every single person possesses fundamental rights that ought to be respected.
Later on, I began to pay attention to the development of different regions. I followed the developmental trajectory of Taiwanese society with particular interest—not because it is free of problems, but because I witnessed an alternative mode of institutional operation. Taiwan underwent a prolonged process of development and reform, progressively establishing electoral systems, journalistic oversight, judicial remedies, and mechanisms for civic participation in public affairs.Differing opinions can be openly debated, policies can withstand social scrutiny, and the government must face public supervision.
The greatest enlightenment this institutional arrangement offered me was not about which party holds office, but that the people possess channels to express their views, supervise the government, and safeguard their own rights and interests in accordance with the law.
I gradually came to realize that a society is truly worthy of trust not because it never commits errors, but because it possesses the capacity to rectify those errors when they do occur.
Some say that democracy cannot resolve all problems, and I completely agree. No system in the world can ever achieve absolute perfection. However, a society that permits criticism from its people, allows oversight by the media, and enables the judiciary to operate independently in accordance with the law will always stand a better chance of continuously correcting its shortcomings than a society that lacks mechanisms for public discussion and supervision.
What I yearn for is precisely this kind of system that constantly refines itself.
My experiences over these years have made me increasingly believe that a nation’s development is manifested not merely in economic figures, but more crucially in whether ordinary people can live a life of dignity. Only when every individual can express their opinions according to the law, when every family can autonomously plan their own future, and when every citizen can receive equal protection under the law, can a society truly possess the foundation for long-term development.
Today, when I look back upon my experiences once again, regrets still linger in my heart. Yet, more than regret, I hope my experience can serve as a reminder. Any system should place human beings first, rather than forcing human beings to adapt to the system. Power ought to be constrained by law, policies ought to respect human dignity, and the development of society ought to be built upon the respect accorded to every ordinary individual.
I believe that a truly civilized society will not lapse into chaos because its people possess freedom; rather, it will become more stable precisely because its people possess freedom, their rights are safeguarded, and the system is subjected to supervision.
And it is precisely for this reason that I cherish the values of democracy, the rule of law, and freedom all the more. They are not remote slogans, but the very foundation upon which every ordinary person can live in peace, possess dignity, and protect their family.
Even to this day, there are still people who ask me why I constantly talk about freedom.
Some feel that freedom is merely a concept within political science; some believe that freedom is far removed from the lives of ordinary people; and others think that as long as the economy can develop and ordinary people can maintain their livelihoods, discussing freedom seems to hold no significant meaning.
However, my experiences over these years have made me understand more and more that freedom has never been an abstract slogan; it is inextricably linked to the life of every single ordinary person.
Only those who have truly lost their choices can understand how precious choice truly is; only those who have truly experienced enforced silence can know why speaking out is vital; only those who have truly confronted power can comprehend why the law must constrain that power.
More often than not, we are accustomed to understanding freedom as a right to do anything one pleases. In reality, the freedom spoken of in modern society is not a form of license devoid of boundaries, but rather the right of every individual to live according to their own will under the protection of the law.
This right manifests itself in every aspect of life.
It means that you can express your own views without being punished for holding a differing opinion; it means that you can safeguard your rights and interests in accordance with the law without worrying about losing fairness simply because your social status is ordinary; it means that when public power impacts your life, you are able to defend your legitimate rights and interests through channels such as the law, the media, and social oversight, rather than being forced to endure it in silence.
For a long time in the past, I never seriously reflected on these questions. Like many ordinary people, I placed more of my energy on family, work, and daily life, always feeling that the system was far removed from myself, and that as long as I lived a stable and peaceful life, everything would naturally take its course.
Later, I discovered that the system is not an abstract matter; it affects a person’s work, family, education, healthcare, speech, and even influences every momentous decision in one’s life.
And it was precisely because of this that I began to recognize the rule of law anew.
Genuine rule of law does not merely consist of enacting laws; more importantly, it requires that all people, including those who wield public power, must be constrained by the law. The law cannot simply demand that ordinary people abide by it; it should, first and foremost, require those in power to exercise administration in accordance with the law.
If the law only constrains ordinary people but fails to constrain power, then it becomes very difficult for the law to truly manifest fairness.
The reason why modern democratic systems emphasize judicial independence is not to place the judiciary above the government, but rather to ensure that no power can place itself above the law. When disputes arise between ordinary people and public authorities, the courts can make independent judgments based upon the law, rather than being influenced by administrative forces. Only in this way will ordinary people believe that fairness exists not just in legal texts, but can also be realized in real life.
Aside from the judiciary, I have also paid increasing attention to the vital significance of freedom of the press.
Many people believe that news is merely about reporting what happens every day. In reality, however, the more critical function of journalistic oversight is to ensure that public power remains perpetually under the scrutiny of society. Only when the media can investigate facts and openly debate public policies, and only when different viewpoints can fully circulate within society, can people acquire more information and thus form more rational judgments.
If a society has only one single voice, it is often very difficult for people to comprehensively understand the truth of matters; conversely, when differing perspectives can be openly expressed, society is instead more likely to approach the truth.
I began to pay attention to the development of Taiwan precisely because there, I witnessed the transformations brought about by this kind of institutional arrangement: different political parties can compete openly, the media can continuously supervise the government, civil groups can actively participate in public affairs, and ordinary citizens can also express their opinions through legitimate channels.
Of course, this does not mean that Taiwan is free of problems. A democratic society likewise harbors controversies, conflicts, and disagreements. But what truly allows me to feel hope is the manner in which problems are resolved there.
When a policy triggers controversy, people can debate it openly; when the government is questioned, the media can continuously follow up; when an administrative action is suspected of violating the law, the courts can review it according to the law; when the people are dissatisfied with those in power, they can furthermore replace the government peacefully through elections.
I have gradually come to understand that the place where a democratic system truly deserves to be cherished is not that it can avoid all mistakes, but that it possesses the capacity to continuously rectify mistakes.
Whether a society makes genuine progress does not depend on whether it never commits an error, but rather on whether, after an error is made, it possesses the institutional capacity to acknowledge the mistake, correct the mistake, and prevent the mistake from occurring again.
Over these years, I have come to believe increasingly that the true stability of a nation is not built upon the silence of its people, but rather upon the willingness of the people to trust the system.
Moreover, this kind of trust is not formed by relying on propaganda; rather, it is accumulated bit by bit through fairness, justice, and transparency.
When every ordinary person believes that the law can protect them, when every different voice can be heard by society, and when every exercise of public power must accept supervision, people will naturally be filled with confidence regarding the future.
Freedom does not weaken a nation; on the contrary, it enables a society to possess greater creativity and makes the people more willing to assume responsibility. This is because only individuals who are respected will be more willing to respect others; only those who possess rights will better understand how to cherish rights; and only citizens living within the rule of law will be more willing to jointly maintain social order.
Today, I still believe that freedom is not the privilege of a minority, but ought to become the fundamental right of every ordinary person; democracy is not a remote and unattainable ideal, but an institutional practice that continuously refines society; the rule of law is not a simple slogan, but a common rule that all public power must observe.
What I yearn for is not a society devoid of disagreements, but rather a society that allows disagreements to exist, allows different voices to be expressed, allows the people to supervise the government, and allows the system to continuously perfect itself from within.
For I have always believed that the greatest strength of a truly civilized nation does not derive from power itself, but from the trust that comes from the bottom of the people’s hearts. And this trust can only be built upon the institutional foundation jointly formed by freedom, the rule of law, and democracy. This is also the very reason why I perpetually treasure these values, and am willing to continuously narrate, continuously reflect, and continuously express them.
In Memory of Mr. Liu Xiaobo on the Ninth Anniversary of His Passing
Author: Jin Mi
Abstract: Within the waves of July echoes our deep remembrance of Mr. Liu Xiaobo.
Finishing up the last bits of work at hand this afternoon, I left the office early and drove to the seaside alone.
I do this a few times every year, without planning any company, nor for any particular reason. It feels as though a tiny tide suddenly rises within my heart, pushing me toward the shore.
The beach is still the same beach; the sea is still the same sea. Seagulls wheel overhead, and the wind whips my hair into a slight tangle. The distant waves roll in layer after layer; because they are so far away, they are almost silent, visible only as they rise endlessly and fall endlessly.
The sea is always like this—never in a hurry, never offering an explanation. Yet every time I look at the sea, I think of Liu Xiaobo.
When others look at the sea, they see the sunrise, the sunset glow, the distant horizon, and the returning ships. But I cannot help but think of how a person’s entire life could, in the end, dissolve into a part of the ocean. Thus, ever since, every stretch of the sea feels like an old acquaintance of his.
I often think that if a person ends up without even a tombstone, it must be a very lonely thing. There is no place to lay flowers, no place to stop and softly call out their name. Yet, by some twist, the ocean is simply too vast. It is vast like a destiny, turning all searching into a distant gaze.
The sea will not preserve memories for anyone.
Today’s waves will not remember yesterday’s waves; the wind blowing by today will not know whose final resting place it once swept over.
But humans will.
Therefore, every time I come to the seaside, I stay quiet for a while. It is not that I am searching for anything; I just feel that when gazing at the sea like this, the distance between human beings and history suddenly becomes very close.
The lives of some people are ultimately condensed into a book, a bronze statue, or a memorial hall.
Yet for some others, nothing is left but a stretch of sea.
The surface of the sea is so wide and so still—so still that it can hold everything, yet it says nothing. Precisely because it says nothing, those who come after always want to say something on its behalf.
It is said that a person dies three times in life: the first time is when life ends; the second time is when the funeral ends; the third time is when the last person who remembers them also forgets their name. I do not know if this saying is true. But I do know that as long as I still come to look at the sea, I will still think of him.
July is merely a reminder. What truly makes me think of him has never been the calendar, but the tides, the sea breeze, and the waves that wash ashore time and time again.
Today, I sat on the beach for a very long time.
In my ears was the scattered crying of seagulls; the wind blew continuously, and the distant waves rolled in silence. The sunlight gradually skewed toward the west, and the sand still held the warmth of the daytime. I did nothing at all, just watched the sea, as if reading a book that I have read many times, yet have never truly finished.
Later, I lowered my head and wrote down these words.
Suddenly, I felt that remembering someone perhaps does not require flowers, rituals, or a crowd of people. It only requires that on a certain afternoon in July, someone still leaves work early, comes to the seaside alone, and softly whispers his name in the wind.
The Collapse of the Liulan Reservoir: The Awakening of the People
Author: Wang Haizhou
Abstract: The dam collapse at the Liulan Reservoir in Hengzhou is by no means a simple natural disaster. A review of the beginning and end of this incident reveals that it is a human tragedy brought about by the corruption and incompetence of the Chinese Communist Party government.
At 2:30 AM late into the night on July 6, the Hengzhou Liulan Reservoir Service Station issued Announcement No. 4, stating that following meeting discussions, the reservoir gates would be fully opened for flood discharge at exactly 6:00 AM. Heavy rain is a natural disaster, but are the late-night reservoir warning, the flood discharge, and the “landslide” not man-made disasters? Holding a meeting late at night and discharging floods in the early morning—is this a deliberate attempt to let everyone die peacefully in their sleep?
On the morning of July 6, 2026, a severe breach appeared in the dam body of the Liulan Reservoir in Hengzhou City, Nanning City, Guangxi, and floodwaters poured down, instantly swallowing downstream villages and hamlets including Liulan Village, Dutian Village, and Guanping Village. Houses were submerged up to the second floor, and vehicles were ruthlessly swept away. According to on-site submissions from netizens, the affected population has reached over 300,000, with tens of thousands of people missing. The heavy rainfall from Typhoon “Maysak” was the trigger, but the bursting of the Liulan Reservoir completely pushed the disaster into the abyss.
It must be faced squarely that in many flood disasters in China, the primary cause is often man-made misfortune rather than natural disaster. Improper timing of dam flood discharges and untimely notifications to downstream residents frequently lead to more severe secondary disasters. No flood discharge when it does not rain, and collective flood discharge or dam breaches as soon as torrential rain hits—this kind of man-made calamity plays out year after year. The government is the creator of the disasters, and the lives of the people are merely tools used to fabricate news or cover up facts. Following the collapse of the Hengzhou Liulan Reservoir dam on July 6, thousands of villagers fled for their lives to the hilltops at the edge of the villages; within 24 hours, cellular network signals and communication signals in the hilltop areas were entirely blocked.
Yet on the very same day the Liulan Reservoir dam collapsed, the first batch of 80 tons of Chinese government aid materials, including generators, water purifiers, tents, and blankets to assist Venezuela with earthquake relief, had already arrived in Venezuela via chartered flight.
On July 7, Foreign Ministry Spokesperson Mao Ning announced: President Xi Jinping sent a message of condolence to Venezuela’s Acting President Rodríguez. On the basis of the cash assistance previously provided to the Venezuelan side, the Chinese government has added 100 million RMB in emergency gratis aid, and the Red Cross Society of China has provided 300,000 USD in emergency cash assistance. While our own country is in deep water and scorching fire, with disaster relief being utterly ineffective, foreign aid is given unstintingly, slapping one’s own face until it’s swollen just to look like a fat man (slapping one’s face to put on a facade of prosperity).
The people of Guangxi must remember this day, and the Chinese people, please also remember this shameful day.
The 80 tons of disaster relief aid to Venezuela has already been delivered, but how much aid have the disaster victims in Guangxi received?
This brings to mind the world’s largest man-made disaster, which the Chinese government covered up for a full 50 years—the 1975 Banqiao Reservoir dam collapse incident in Henan Province. This incident shocked the world after it occurred; 240,000 people instantly disappeared in a mere 6 hours, and 11 million people suffered a catastrophic disaster! The tragedy of blood and tears at Banqiao still strikes terror into people’s hearts to this day!
Moreover, this Liulan Reservoir dam collapse incident is cut from the exact same cloth as the tragic case of that year, repeating the same mistakes in the face of the same disaster. Such a government no longer possesses the capacity to govern, nor has it ever placed the interests, lives, and safety of the masses of the people in its eyes.
The relief supplies did not arrive, but the signal-blocking vehicles arrived first. On one hand, officials appealed to civil rescue forces to organize assault boats for rescue operations, while on the other hand, they demanded that civil emergency rescue forces must first obtain approval from the headquarters. Whether the so-called headquarters aims to save people or to blockade information remains unknown. In the 21st century, an era where information is so highly developed, the officials always want to cover up the facts—what on earth are they afraid of?
In 2009, 73.62 million RMB was invested in the danger-elimination and reinforcement of the Liulan Reservoir in Guangxi, which has a total reservoir capacity of 92.76 million cubic meters. The bidding documents show that the main feature of this reinforcement was that the dam adopted a concrete anti-seepage wall plus high-pressure jet grouting reinforcement. The spillway, originally an open practical weir spillway, was reconstructed; according to the 1-in-100-year flood design, the discharge capacity through the gates reached 1,469 cubic meters per second, reaching the level of a large (Class 2) sluice. The actual result, however, was merely a mud wall smeared with a layer of cement. (Attached below this article are cross-sectional photos of the dam failure and the bidding announcement).
In 2023, an irrigation area renovation and reinforcement project was launched once again, with a total investment as high as 382.53 million RMB. Tremendous amounts of funds should have been exchanged for a safety barrier, yet just three short years later, it collapsed by about 50 meters in the torrential rain. Facing this tragic reality, people cannot help but question: Is this after all a natural disaster or a man-made misfortune? Were the project funds embezzled? Did the construction involve cutting corners? “Bursting right after being reinforced” is clearly a textbook case of interest transfer and diluted quality, which severely shakes the bottom line of public trust.
Chinese dams are predominantly of earth-rock dam structures. The fundamental reason lies in its extremely low threshold—mud and gravel can be sourced locally without the need for factory production, and ordinary labor can perform the construction. It is mankind’s oldest and most widespread method of dam building, and early water conservancy construction in countries worldwide was dominated by this.
The reason why China’s proportion is even more extreme is directly related to a specific historical context: among the existing reservoirs, 87.1% of the dikes and dams were built before 1979. Nearly half of them have a dam age exceeding 50 years. At that time, construction relied primarily on mass-movement-style “indigenous methods of construction” (tufa shigong); there was neither precise pouring technology nor sufficient funds, so concrete dams simply could not be promoted on a large scale. Coupled with the fact that small reservoirs account for more than 95% of the total number of reservoirs in China, projects of this scale were forced to choose cheap earth-rock dams due to the limitations of technology and raw materials at the time. Therefore, the high percentage of earth-rock dams is the inevitable outcome of China constructing the largest number of dams in the world within an extremely short period of time and under highly limited conditions.
Professionals point out: The age of most dams in China has exceeded 50 years, and back then they relied primarily on mass-movement-style “indigenous methods of construction.” These dams are now entirely safety hazards.
Looking at it this way, the legacy of disaster and harm from the Mao Zedong era is still far from over; while Xi Jinping has escalated this disaster of slaughter and destruction against human thought and human bodies to the absolute extreme. Turning the lives and property of ordinary people into the price paid for flood discharge—this account, who exactly should foot the bill?!
Editor: Li Jing Proofreader: Kong Xiangqing Translator: Ge Bing
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