Author: Zhang Xinggui (Mainland China) Editor: Han Li Chief Editor: Luo Zhifei Translator: He Xingqiang
Abstract: This essay explores how totalitarian regimes distort and subvert traditional morality. Citing the words of concentration camp survivors and ancient Chinese proverbs, it introduces the concept of “reverse moral selection.” In a power-absolutist system, evil deeds are rewarded for serving the regime, while good deeds are suppressed for being of no use to centralized control. In the end, even virtue itself becomes a strategy of manipulation in service of power.
A survivor who crawled out from the hell of a concentration camp once left behind this lament:
“Those of us who survived are not the best ones. The best of us are long gone.”
This sentence tolls like a funeral bell, exposing a bloody truth: under the crushing weight of totalitarianism, morality is not only fragile, it may even become a trap leading directly to death.
Behind the barbed wire of the camps, survival was the sole driving force. Are you brave? If you resist the cruelty of the guards, the price may be the gun barrel or the gallows. Are you kind? If you share your last piece of bread with a starving comrade, you may collapse before him. In such an environment, the practice of morality often meant self-sacrifice, while survival demanded compromise—even betrayal.
This phenomenon can be called “reverse moral selection.” Under the oppression of totalitarian rule, those who hold fast to principles and conscience are often the first to be eliminated. Survivors are not necessarily the bravest or kindest, but those who learned how to adapt—more cautious, more hidden, perhaps even more selfish. This is not proof of inherent human evil, but of the systemic distortion of humanity by totalitarian power, where morality itself becomes a dangerous luxury.
Ancient Chinese autocracy left us a proverb:
“Those who kill and burn gain golden belts; those who build bridges and repair roads leave no corpse behind.”
This forces us to confront a brutal question: why is it that in certain societies, evil deeds can bring wealth and honor, while virtuous acts lead to destruction? The answer lies deep within the fabric of the system itself.
I. The Supremacy of Power: The Institutional Roots of Rewarding Evil and Punishing Good
We must face the essence of totalitarianism: a system of extreme concentration of power, where law, morality, and resources all serve the will of the ruler. In such an environment, rules cease to be fair and become nothing more than appendages of power.
Why does “killing and burning” bring a golden belt? Because such acts directly serve the consolidation of power. Totalitarian regimes rely on violence, terror, and absolute loyalty to maintain rule. Those willing to perform the “dirty work”—suppressing dissent, fabricating injustice, plundering resources—are seen as “useful pawns” and are rewarded with wealth, rank, and privilege.
Conversely, why does “repairing bridges and roads” fail to gain recognition? Because it serves the public good, not the ruler’s private interest. To the totalitarian eye, such acts hold little value, and may even threaten entrenched privilege. Thus, benevolent acts not only lack reward, but may provoke suppression or oblivion—this is the tragic root of “leaving no corpse behind.”
II. Efficiency and Control: Why the Regime Needs “Evil”
The reason totalitarian systems elevate evil is that evil is the more “efficient” tool for sustaining their rule.
The need for control through power.To ensure absolute obedience, rulers must wield fear and repression to extinguish dissent. This is itself evil, for it shackles freedom and suppresses human nature. “Good” qualities—tolerance, diversity, empathy—naturally conflict with centralized power and are even regarded as weakness. Thus, those who carry out violent acts are hailed as loyal insiders and promoted, making evil a fast track to power.
The efficiency of social control.In the logic of totalitarianism, efficiency trumps morality. Evil—violence, surveillance, punishment—quickly silences opposition and creates a façade of order. Good—dialogue, compromise, inclusiveness—requires time and trust, with high costs and uncertain outcomes. Imagine a villager who spends his own savings to repair a road for his neighbors, only to offend a local powerbroker who controls transport profits. Rather than gratitude, he may face ruin and death.
Thus, in totalitarian regimes, “good” often becomes strategic—performed only when it serves power’s control, not out of true moral pursuit. In this meat grinder, the noblest parts of human nature are systematically crushed. This is not the failure of individual morality, but the inevitable evil of the system itself.
Hold back a man’s tears. Alas, this life— the tricks of false keepers, the drunken chase of wealth and paper. Most I recall the path on Gaoting Mountain, (1) and at the gate of Bijiang Ward, Zhang Cangshui’s blood. (2) How vivid still, the rights and wrongs of a thousand years. Reciting the “Ode to Lime,” my breast grows tight, (3) then by Xixia Ridge, the bamboo by Yue Fei’s tomb stands green. (4) My lofty will remains, never to regret.
A sorrowful song struck upon the zhu startles demons. (5) To resist the tyrant Qin, in Dazexiang’s bitter rain, (6) the blades of Xiang Yu and Liu Bang flashed sharp. (7) Ever I lament Heaven and Earth still turbid, hard to dissolve the stone in my chest. Yet I only hope the sun will melt the frozen buds. (8) Looking back at the flames within the Bagua furnace, surely they hasten spring blossoms across the land. Where blood cries out, the Red Earth gathers.
Notes (corresponding to references in the poem): Wen Tianxiang was captured at Gaoting Mountain, Hangzhou. Zhang Cangshui was executed at Bijiang Ward, Hangzhou. Yu Qian’s tomb lies at Santai Mountain, Hangzhou; he wrote the Ode to Lime as a testament of resolve. Yue Fei’s tomb at Xixia Ridge is flanked by green bamboo. Refers to Jing Ke’s attempt to assassinate the Qin emperor; Gao Jianli struck the zhu (ancient instrument), moving all to grief. Chen Sheng raised the first banner of revolt at Dazexiang. Xiang Yu and Liu Bang rose in arms against Qin. Alludes to Wu Wenying’s “To the Tune of He Xinlang,” where thawing buds herald spring.
Author: Yuan QiangEditor: Hu Lili Responsible Editor: Luo Zhifei Translation: Lyu Feng
From left to right: Zhang Ruixin, Qin Yubin, Zhou Zhigang, Li Shuqing, Yuan Qiang
On September 6, 2025, in front of the Chinese Consulate General in San Francisco, California, the San Francisco Branch of the China Democracy Party held its annual “Mao Zedong Reflection Action Day.” The event called on the international community to recognize the Chinese Communist Party’s lies in covering up history and demanded an end to China’s authoritarian rule in favor of democracy and the rule of law.
The purpose of the event was to expose the bloody atrocities committed during Mao Zedong’s rule and to reflect on the immense humanitarian disasters he caused. Democracy activists delivered speeches detailing the devastation Mao’s regime inflicted on society and the economy. They emphasized that Mao not only created disasters domestically, but also exported revolution abroad, supporting dictators such as Kim Il-sung in North Korea, Pol Pot in Cambodia, Fidel Castro in Cuba, and Nicolae Ceaușescu in Romania, bringing calamity to the world.
Participants stressed that reflecting on Mao Zedong is not merely about tracing history, but also a warning for the present. Many held up banners and signs, shouting slogans such as “Return my compatriots! Return my land! Oppose forced seizure!” to voice strong opposition to the CCP’s dictatorship and its rule of lies.
Abstract: This article systematically reviews the development and characteristics of the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) propaganda system: from a mobilization tool during the revolutionary period, to a governance mechanism after the establishment of the PRC, and finally to today’s pyramid structure and global external propaganda strategy. The article reveals that its essence lies in maintaining regime legitimacy through information monopoly and emotional manipulation, but at the cost of ideological uniformity and suppressed social vitality.
Author: Hua Yan Editor: Feng Reng Responsible Editor: Hu Lili Translation: Lyu Feng
1. Propaganda as a Tool of Power
The CCP’s propaganda system did not emerge out of thin air; it is rooted in its revolutionary history and ideological needs. Founded in 1921, the CCP was initially a small revolutionary force, and propaganda became a core tool for mobilizing the masses and consolidating strength. During the Land Revolution and the Anti-Japanese War, propaganda aimed to “awaken the people” by combining Marxist class struggle concepts with the call for national salvation through slogans, banners, theater, and songs. This successfully shaped the image of the “worker-peasant alliance” and “national heroes.”
However, this seemingly “enlightening” propaganda was highly purposeful from the outset: by simplifying complex political ideas and creating oppositional emotions, it mobilized the masses to support the revolution.
Early CCP propaganda was essentially a one-way indoctrination rather than a two-way communication. By controlling the flow of information, the CCP selectively promoted narratives favorable to its legitimacy while suppressing dissenting voices. In the 1920s, campaigns such as the “anti-imperialist, anti-feudal” propaganda simplified complex social problems into the evils of “imperialism” and “feudal landlords,” ignoring the multidimensional nature of social transformation. Although this binary narrative strategy effectively consolidated revolutionary forces in the short term, it also planted the seeds of ideological uniformity, laying the foundation for the later highly centralized propaganda system.
With the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, propaganda shifted from a revolutionary tool to a core mechanism of state governance. The CCP defined propaganda as the “lifeline of the Party,” embedding ideological indoctrination into every corner of the state apparatus through institutions such as the Central Propaganda Department. Propaganda was no longer merely a mobilization tool but became a lever of power to maintain regime legitimacy and shape social consensus. This shift marked a transition from “enlightenment” to “control,” with its goal moving from mobilizing the masses to unifying thought and suppressing pluralistic opinions.
The theoretical foundation of CCP propaganda lies in Marxism, which emphasizes the awakening of “class consciousness” and the education of the proletariat about their historical mission. Marx envisioned propaganda as an enlightening process aimed at awakening self-awareness in the working class through rational discussion, rather than a top-down imposition. Leninist adaptation stressed that the Party, as the “vanguard,” must guide the masses through propaganda, giving it strong organizational and disciplinary characteristics. Building on this Leninist foundation, the CCP further localized propaganda, integrating it with the Chinese traditional political concept of “moral education” (教化). Whereas Confucianism emphasized governing through virtue to shape social order, the CCP transformed this into “governing through ideology,” instilling Party values through propaganda.
Theoretically, propaganda as a form of communication should be fact-based and use rational persuasion to build consensus. However, the CCP’s propaganda system is founded on absolute obedience to power rather than a pursuit of truth. Its core logic is that the Party’s will represents the will of the people; therefore, propaganda’s task is not to stimulate discussion, but to ensure public acceptance of the Party’s narrative.
II. The Propaganda Pyramid
1. Central Propaganda Department: Information Control
The Central Propaganda Department (CPD) is the core institution of the CCP propaganda system, serving as the highest authority for information control and ideological management. Its responsibilities include formulating propaganda policies, guiding media operations, censoring content, and coordinating nationwide propaganda work. While it ostensibly aims to “guide public opinion,” its core mission is to ensure all information output aligns with Party objectives through centralized control.
The CPD’s concentrated power is evident in its comprehensive oversight of media, publishing, education, and culture. Institutions such as the National Press and Publication Administration and the National Radio and Television Administration, although nominally independent, are directly subordinate to the CPD. The CPD exercises meticulous control through “propaganda directives” and “sensitive word lists,” regulating not only content but also tone and language.
The CPD operates as a “black box,” with opaque decision-making processes and no public oversight. Propaganda policies are often based on political necessity rather than factual evidence. By delaying the release of information and controlling reporting standards, the CPD prioritizes regime image over public right to know.
2. Local Propaganda Implementation: Loyalty
Local propaganda offices, subordinate to the CPD, are tasked with implementing central policies in practice. Every provincial, municipal, and county-level Party committee has propaganda departments, forming a top-down vertical management system. Their responsibilities include organizing local media reports, conducting public outreach, and monitoring regional public opinion. Local offices must strictly follow CPD directives to align local discourse with central mandates. When reporting major policies, local media must rely on Xinhua press releases or CPD-specified wording; deviations may be considered political errors. This strict uniformity limits local adaptation, often disconnecting propaganda from public needs.
3. Propaganda Monopoly: Suppression of Plurality
Propaganda departments coordinate closely with government agencies, the judiciary, and state-owned enterprises to ensure Party narratives permeate all sectors of society. The core goal of this party-government collaboration is to establish a propaganda monopoly and suppress any voices that could challenge the official narrative. Structurally, this is achieved through the “party-government integration” mechanism: education embeds Party ideology into curricula, police monitor online discourse, and cultural departments censor artistic content. This all-encompassing control ensures that schools, the internet, media, and public spaces are dominated by Party-led narratives. Independent media, citizen journalists, and unofficial sources are marginalized or eliminated. This monopolization, achieved at the expense of ideological diversity, stifles social innovation and critical thinking.
4. Civil “Voluntary” Propaganda: Manipulated Mass Participation
The CCP propaganda system also mobilizes civilian forces to participate in “voluntary” propaganda, which is often tightly controlled. Typical forms include online commentators (the “50-cent party”), volunteer organizations, and mass campaigns. Although these activities appear spontaneous, they are directly guided and funded by propaganda departments.
III. Narrative Control: From “Positive Propaganda” to Selective Truth
The CCP’s propaganda system seeks to shape public perception to reinforce regime legitimacy and social stability. Narrative control, under the guise of “positive propaganda,” emphasizes Party achievements, national rejuvenation, and social harmony, but its essence lies in selective truth-telling, constructing a singular reality that serves official interests.
The core strategy of “positive propaganda” is to filter information, amplify favorable facts, and conceal or downplay unfavorable ones. This selective narrative is repeatedly reinforced through media, textbooks, and public events, linking Party image to national progress.
Emotional mobilization is another key tactic, using fear, nationalism, and collective identity to guide public perception and behavior. Nationalism strengthens internal cohesion but fosters narrow-minded xenophobia. Fear is also leveraged by portraying external threats or internal crises, compelling citizens to rely on official narratives. Western countries are often depicted as “hostile forces,” with “anti-China conspiracy theories” promoting vigilance.
1. Subordinate Role of Traditional Media
Traditional media, including newspapers, television, and radio, serve as the Party’s “mouthpiece.” Core outlets such as People’s Daily and CCTV are directly controlled by the CPD, producing content strictly aligned with Party objectives. Journalists and editors have minimal creative freedom; news must use Xinhua releases or CPD-approved wording.
2. Control and Use of New Media
With the rise of the internet and mobile devices, the CCP quickly embraced platforms like WeChat, Weibo, and Douyin as new fronts for opinion guidance. While these platforms appear interactive and diverse, they extend official narratives through algorithmic recommendations and content control. Official accounts use short videos, stickers, and livestreams to make serious propaganda appealing to younger audiences.
3. Censorship and Surveillance
Censorship and surveillance are core mechanisms. Internet filtering, the Great Firewall, keyword blocking, and human review restrict sensitive information. Big data and AI track online behavior. These mechanisms enforce information control, severely limiting free speech and privacy. The Great Firewall blocks sites like Google, YouTube, and Wikipedia, while keyword systems monitor social media in real-time. Surveillance networks like “Skynet” further enforce compliance.
IV. Global Ambitions: Narrative Competition
Recently, the CCP has expanded its propaganda globally, seeking to enhance China’s influence and international discourse power. The strategy “telling China’s story well” promotes a positive image, counters Western criticism, and presents China as a “peaceful rising” power. Since 2013, this strategy has guided external propaganda. Key tools include China Global Television Network, China Daily, and Xinhua International Edition, broadcasting Chinese perspectives in multiple languages. Social media platforms like X and YouTube are also used to reach international audiences directly.
In response to criticism, the CCP uses rebuttals, distraction, and proactive narrative shaping. These defensive and manipulative tactics have limited effectiveness. Rebuttals deny or refute Western reports; distraction shifts focus to other topics; proactive shaping attempts to dominate discourse through media collaboration and guided messaging.
V. The Costs of Propaganda
The CCP propaganda system, with its highly organized structure and resources, achieves strong short-term control over public opinion. Intensive coverage through media, events, and online platforms ensures the core narrative reaches all corners of society. However, this “illusory prosperity” hides long-term risks. Coercive propaganda fosters passive acceptance rather than genuine belief. Overuse of positive messaging, such as slogans like “positive energy” or the “Chinese Dream,” can provoke resistance, reducing persuasive impact.
Moreover, the system’s artificial success masks its vulnerabilities. In the information age, citizens access unofficial channels, challenging the credibility of official narratives. For instance, during the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic, social media revealed shortages and local disorder ignored in official propaganda, showing the short-term effects cannot be easily converted into lasting trust.
By enforcing unified narratives and controlling information, the CCP propaganda system suppresses diverse viewpoints and individual expression, stifling creativity and vitality in cultural, academic, and innovative fields.
Chronicles of the Fangcang:A Makeshift Measure and a Wasted Legacy
Author/Editor: Zhong Ran Executive Editor: Luo Zhifei Translation: Lyu Feng
Since the outbreak of COVID-19 in Wuhan in 2020, China urgently built fangcang hospitals, converting large venues such as sports arenas and exhibition halls into temporary isolation facilities to accommodate patients with mild or asymptomatic infections, thereby easing the bed shortage in regular hospitals. However, these densely populated and poorly equipped facilities, to some extent, became breeding grounds for the virus and carried significant risks of cross-infection.
Subsequently, many regions across the country followed suit during peak waves of the pandemic. Notably, during the large-scale lockdowns in Shanghai in 2022, authorities not only established general fangcang hospitals but also separated children from adults, sparking enormous social controversy.
As the pandemic subsided, these facilities were quickly abandoned, left to decay, exposing the lack of long-term planning in emergency medical infrastructure and the inefficiency in resource utilization. More importantly, they reflected a severe failure in epidemic control policies to safeguard the interests of the people.
In February 2020, Wuhan overnight converted three sites—the Hongshan Gymnasium, Wuhan Living Room, and Wuhan International Convention and Exhibition Center—into “fangcang” hospitals.
The 2020 Wuhan Exhibition Fangcang Hospital
The 2020 Wuhan Exhibition Fangcang Hospital
January 2021, Shijiazhuang centralized quarantine site
April 2022, “Infant and Toddler Isolation Facility” at Shanghai Public Health Clinical Center
November 2022, Baiyun District Quarantine Transfer Facility, Guangzhou
In mid-November 2022, in Wanqingsha, Nansha District, Guangzhou, it became a “pandemic stronghold” under the then “dynamic zero-COVID” policy.
The Nansha Fangcang Hospital began construction on November 14, 2022, with at least 9,000 workers on site and over 700 pieces of construction machinery fully deployed. By November 25, the hospital was fully completed and handed over, taking only 12 days. On December 7, 2022, the State Council announced the “New Ten Measures” for COVID-19 prevention, fully lifting the pandemic control policies. The Nansha Wanqingsha Fangcang, which had been in operation for just 10 days, immediately became obsolete.
Two years later, it has been transformed into a “small goods market,” with batches of former isolation containers, household appliances, and daily necessities being sold off. The former “pandemic stronghold” is now being cleared out. Memory and reality intersect as this urban relic from a unique period gradually fades away amid rows of sales receipts.
“Product Exhibition Hall” of Nansha Fangcang No. 1 Sales Center
By the end of April 2025, some of the modular isolation units at Nansha Fangcang had already been reserved or sold out.
Inside Nansha Fangcang, the single-occupancy isolation rooms still retain complete washing facilities, but are now stacked with various household goods.
Ultimately, the beds, partitions, and equipment that had been hastily assembled day and night became mountains of scrap, sold off at bargain prices. The fangcang hospitals, once hailed as a “pandemic miracle,” revealed their true nature in demolition and decay: a display of power paid for at the people’s expense. After the clamor subsided, what remained was not glory, but empty, desolate spaces and silent irony. This frenzy and absurdity, in the end, finally came to a close.
Even in the Darkest Night, We Must Guard the Light of Life—On the CCP Military Parade Microphone Incident
Author: Chen Ting Editor: Han Li Responsible Editor: Hu Lili Translation: Lyu Feng
Abstract: This article takes the CCP’s “microphone incident” during a military parade as its point of departure to probe deeply into the issue of systemic forced organ harvesting in China. It argues that the right to life is the cornerstone of all freedoms, condemns this crime against humanity from the perspectives of universal ethics and faith, and finally calls on the international community and individuals to act together in safeguarding the bottom line of human civilization.
In today’s world of rapid global circulation and ever-changing technology, humanity’s most fundamental freedom—the right to life—has, in some dark corners, quietly sunk to its lowest point. A piece of information originally meant to be hidden was accidentally exposed, briefly tearing away the fig leaf and revealing the cold reality.
At a CCP military parade on September 23, an unmuted microphone recording set off a global storm: in a conversation between Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin, the words “organ transplant” and “immortality” appeared, drawing widespread shock and concern. U.S. House Speaker Mike Johnson immediately condemned it, saying: “We have heard far too many horrific stories of organ transplants in China, and these organs come from ‘unwilling donors’—and that phrasing is already putting it mildly.” Without rhetorical flourish, his words pierced more sharply than any slogan: “What an evil worldview they have!”
This is not the first time the truth about “live organ harvesting” has surfaced, and it will not be the last. Since 2006, thousands of witness testimonies, research reports, and international media investigations have repeatedly pointed out that systemic, state-backed forced organ harvesting exists in China. Victims have included religious believers and prisoners of conscience, especially Falun Gong practitioners, Tibetan monks, and Uyghurs. In 2019, the Independent Tribunal into Forced Organ Harvesting from Prisoners of Conscience in China concluded that the CCP had engaged in “large-scale organ harvesting over many years,” constituting “crimes against humanity.” In 2021, United Nations human rights experts again voiced “deep concern” over China’s organ plunder targeting groups defined by ethnicity and religion.
What makes the “microphone incident” so striking is its normalcy: it was not a secret meeting nor a private interview, but a moment of “internal consensus” that slipped out in front of Tiananmen, during a national celebration, under the eyes of the world’s leaders. In that instant, organs were not about sustaining life but chips for certain elites to extend power, desire, and longevity. In this context, human beings were no longer dignified individuals, but cold numbers, clinical indicators, and replaceable “parts.”
We must ask: when a nation’s center of power can regard others’ bodies as spare warehouses, do any other freedoms retain meaning? In such a system, if the right to life cannot be guaranteed, then freedom of speech, religion, or movement all collapse into nothing. For a person who cannot even possess their own body, political, spiritual, and social “freedoms” are illusions on paper.
Buddhism speaks of six realms of reincarnation, with the human realm the most precious because humans have reason, awareness, and the potential for cultivation. But when a society reduces people to consumable parts for disassembly, it falls from the “human realm” into the “animal realm.” This is not metaphor—it is reality. Greed drives the “organ transplant industry chain”; fear silences detainees; numbness makes bystanders complicit. Together, these forces push humanity step by step toward the abyss.
As Tibetan Buddhist Khenpo Sodargye has said: “If a person abandons respect for others’ lives, he has already strayed far from virtue.” This is not merely a warning to practitioners but should be the bottom line of any human social system. Organ transplantation should be a medical miracle that prolongs life, but under the shadow of power it has become a channel of atrocity—transforming compassion into cruelty, healing into murder.
In this reality, maintaining awareness is the beginning for every awake individual. Awareness is not an outburst of rage, but a sustained refusal to accept injustice: not silenced by fear, not compromised by silence, not dulled by fatigue. This awareness is resistance in itself.
From the perspective of religious ethics, organ donation can be a subject of discussion. But any organ acquisition based on coercion is a violation of morality. Christianity teaches that life is a gift from God; Buddhism teaches that the body is bestowed by one’s parents and must not be desecrated; Islam emphasizes purity and justice; Judaism explicitly prohibits the use of a corpse without consent. These traditions are not relics of the past, but the very foundations of civilization.
In the face of China’s increasingly sophisticated and secretive organ “industry chain,” the world must respond together. First, nations should pass laws similar to the U.S. Stop Forced Organ Harvesting Act, banning cooperation with hospitals, research institutions, or suppliers implicated in such practices. Second, a global transplant-tracking mechanism should be established to investigate cross-border transplant tourism. Third, all faith communities should unite in making this a global moral issue, opposing every practice that treats the human body as an object of trade. Most importantly, each of us must respond: by sharing the truth on social networks; by telling facts within our communities; by refusing indifference in daily life. These small actions, when accumulated, can shift the boundaries of reality.
As Tibetan practitioners say: “Even in the darkest cave, a single beam of light can show the way.” That light is not bestowed by others, but lit by ourselves.
If the world is a dark night, may we still light lamps and press forward. If the system is a high wall, may our voices be the wind through its cracks. The freedom to live must never be reduced to a tool for a few to extend their lives; it must remain the bottom line for all. For this, we must act, appeal, and resist. Because once the right to life is stripped away, all other freedoms become hollow. And a society or nation that fails to safeguard the most basic freedom of survival will ultimately lose the moral foundation of its legitimacy.
Even in the darkest night, we must guard the light of life.
