Since its founding, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has maintained its rule through brutal suppression of dissent, overseas infiltration, and transnational repression. It has even established secret police stations in multiple countries to intimidate diaspora communities. But justice will not remain silent. The U.S. government has already arrested and convicted several CCP agents—this is a powerful response in defense of democracy and freedom!
The China Democracy Party presents the 33rd edition of the ‘Exhibition on 100 Years of CCP Atrocities.’ This exhibition aims to expose the crimes of the CCP, support democratic activists in China and abroad, and spread the truth. Together, let us overthrow the CCP and rebuild the Republic!
Event Details
🕘 Date & Time: Saturday, July 26, 9:00–11:00 AM
📍 Location: Ding Pangzi Plaza
📚 Content: Exposing CCP atrocities and highlighting U.S. efforts to counter Chinese espionage
📌 Hosted by: China Democracy Party, Hacienda Heights Chapter
📋 Organizers: Wang Naiyi, Deng Xiaoyong
📞 Contact: 619-248-6460
👥 On-site Coordinators: Wang Naiyi, Deng Xiaoyong
The CCP’s repression knows no bounds—but united, we can drive change. Take action for justice. Stand up for democracy and freedom!
— The Deaths of Six Northeastern University Students Were No Accident
By Zhong Ran Date: July 23, 2025
Editor: Luo Zhifei | Translator: Lu Huiwen
On July 23, 2025, six third-year students from Northeastern University, along with a young instructor, fell into a flotation tank filled with slurry and chemical agents at the Unugtu Mountain Copper-Molybdenum Ore Concentration Plant, owned by China National Gold Group in Inner Mongolia. The students—all in their early twenties—were standing on a metal grate above the tank during what was described as an “internship tour.” All six students drowned; the instructor was injured. Beneath an aging, fractured steel panel, they were swallowed by this nation’s systemic disregard for human life.
This was not a “tragic accident.”
It was a premeditated industrial killing, a product of collusion among system, capital, and power—and the final insult to the words “education,” “safety,” and “responsibility.”
I. They Didn’t Drown—They Were Murdered by the System
According to the official report, the steel grate holding seven people collapsed due to “pre-existing cracks in the welds.” The accident platform “lacked load-bearing warnings.” The internship agreement “did not clarify supervision, personnel limits, or emergency procedures.”
One word—“accident”—tries to dismiss a man-made disaster as fate.
But what kind of “accident” was this?
The company had partially replaced the grates in February 2025. Why wasn’t comprehensive nondestructive testing conducted?
Flotation tanks are well-known high-risk zones in ore processing. Why were students brought onto the platform at all? Seven people stood on a three-meter steel panel—without restrictions, without supervision, without safety ropes.
This is not an accident—this is murder. This is the outcome of squeezing educational resources to the lowest cost.
And this wasn’t an individual error. It was systemic collusion:
The Ministry of Education remained silent.
The company boasted of “zero accidents.”
The university dodged responsibility.
The local government passed the buck.
An entire arsenal of official jargon is working overtime to silence the echo of these young deaths.
II. Northeastern University: From “Elite School” to Talent Pipeline for Industry
Northeastern University is a “Double First-Class” institution under the Ministry of Education—once a proud supplier of top engineering talent in China. Today, it acts as a human resources outsourcing contractor for state-owned industrial giants.
“Golden Class,” “joint training,” “on-site instruction”—these are all fancy terms for state-run universities feeding fresh blood to state-owned beasts.
These young people were not students, but unprotected test subjects thrown into the mines—cheap labor under the guise of “education.”
Most of the six students came from rural or county-level backgrounds. One of them, Liu, had just been admitted to a graduate program. His mother was proud of him; his entire village saw him as their pride.
He didn’t go to the mine to sacrifice his life—he went to change his destiny through knowledge.
They came from humble families to attend university, only to fall from a steel plate into a slurry pit.
This is the cruelest end of China’s so-called “elite education.”
III. Before the Incident: “Zero Accidents” — Afterward: “Workplace Injury Compensation”?
Just five months before the incident, China National Gold Inner Mongolia boasted about achieving its “zero-accident target.”
Two days after the deaths, a yellow tape sealed off the accident site. The same state-owned industrial giant that boasted about “safety reforms” had placed the lives of seven people on a faulty steel panel.
The flotation tanks are filled with foam, slurry, and chemical reagents. Listed in the Catalogue of Hazardous Chemicals, these are deadly operational zones where even minor errors can cause burns, poisoning, or suffocation.
And yet, China National Gold Group allowed untrained students to “observe and learn” on these platforms—without any cap on participant numbers.
Is this education—or execution?
After the incident, the company quickly halted production, offered “compensation negotiations,” and insisted on settling “under the Work-Related Injury Insurance Regulations.”
We ask:
Were these students your employees?
Were they on your payroll?
Or were they quasi-sacrificial victims under your exploitative system?
This is the darkest, most common routine in China’s accident management:
One hand hands over a blood-stained check, while the other hand feeds the media statements like “under investigation” and “being handled legally.”
In the end, a sanitized press release is published declaring “the issue resolved”—while the bereaved families must spend the rest of their lives in silence and humiliation.
Compensation is not justice.
Compensation is not truth.
Compensation is not remorse.
It is merely a way for China’s bureaucratic system to evade responsibility—a black-market tool to bury public accountability with money.
IV. University, Enterprise, and Government: A Trinity of Complicity
Don’t blame the steel plate.
It wasn’t just a piece of metal that collapsed—it was the entire system.
Northeastern University sent its students into the mines but failed to enforce even the most basic safety clauses in the internship agreement.
The company conducted only partial maintenance on a hazardous platform.
Regulators only began checking for compliance after the deaths occurred.
And the Ministry of Education, State Council, and Mine Safety Administration have not issued a single statement of mourning—no voice, no apology.
What kind of country is this—where even education and life itself become mere metrics for administrative performance and profit?
Parents send their children to college to learn—not to die in a mine.
Teachers take students on internships to educate them—not to lead them to collective death.
They are the sacrificial victims of exam-based survival, the sediment sinking in this nation’s systemic flotation tank, the offerings to GDP figures and “industry-university partnerships.”
The ones who truly deserve to drown in the slurry are those sitting in offices, signing agreements with no concern for the lives buried beneath their pens.
V. We Demand Accountability—Beyond a Broken Weld
We demand answers:
• Why has “student internship” turned into unprotected labor?
• Who approved these agreements, who organized these visits, and who is covering up the truth?
• Why have Chinese universities become HR outsourcing bases for corporations?
• Does this regime hold even a shred of respect for the lives of its young people?
The six students’ bodies haven’t even been buried, and yet the system has already moved on.
But we cannot move on.
We must remember their names.
We must demand answers from this country:
Can you still protect your best and brightest?
We don’t want a piece of paper called “compensation.”
We want accountability.
We want systemic change.
Otherwise, the next person to fall into that flotation tank could be another Liu—
— Written on the Sixth Anniversary of the Yuen Long MTR Attack
By Lü Feng
Editor: Zhao Jie | Executive Editor: Luo Zhifei | Translated by: Huiwen Lu
Like most of my peers, my first impression of Hong Kong came from the black-and-white television—through Chow Yun-fat and Angie Chiu. Later, it was VHS tapes and cassette players that brought the faces and voices of Jackie Chan, Ng Man-tat, Andy Lau, and Jacky Cheung into my world. As a child, I didn’t understand why, in theory, we were all “Chinese people,” yet their lives seemed to belong to a completely different universe: clean streets, social order, diverse entertainment, and freedom of speech.
Raised under the Chinese Communist Party’s education system, I too was once a passionate “patriotic youth,” an active member of the Communist Youth League at school. On July 1, 1997, at midnight—the moment the world witnessed the handover of Hong Kong—I watched the live broadcast with full attention. A strong sense of national pride rose within me. It was a momentous event sure to appear on political exams, so I still remember the official slogan: “One country, two systems; Hong Kong people ruling Hong Kong; high degree of autonomy, unchanged for 100 years.”
Back then, I didn’t truly understand what “one country, two systems” meant. All I knew was: we won. I even recall my reaction when I first heard that the Chief Executive of Hong Kong was elected by popular vote: “You mean Tung Chee-hwa wasn’t appointed by the central government? What if he disobeys?”
With the rise of the internet, I was exposed to more information and a wider range of voices. Combined with my own life and work experience, I began to think independently and gradually came to understand the true meaning of democracy and freedom.
In 2014, Hong Kong erupted in the Umbrella Movement—a massive protest demanding genuine universal suffrage that shocked the world. By then, I had a family and children. In my spare time, I would often discuss with friends: “The way the Chinese Communist Party treats Hong Kong is the way it treats the world.”
As expected, the protest ended in a forced clearance. Then in 2019, when people from all walks of life in Hong Kong opposed the amendment to the Extradition Bill, the CCP went so far as to organize gangs of white-clad men wielding sticks to chase down passengers and journalists in the subway, leaving blood on the floor. This was not a movie. It was a real-life horror scene. What was even more chilling was that the perpetrators were labeled “patriots,” while the police arrived late and were even seen shaking hands with the attackers.
In that moment, I realized: “One country, two systems” was dead.
The CCP’s promise to Hong Kong—its promise to the world—had once again been torn to shreds.
Why do I care so deeply about Hong Kong?
Because it once carried the dreams of my childhood—it was my first glimpse into a civilized world.
Because it once stood as a symbol of pride for all Chinese—it embodied promises we once made.
Because today, those promises have been shattered in blood and batons, and yet brave souls still resist.
To commemorate “7.21” is not to breed hatred, but to remember the humiliation, to remember those who were beaten and arrested, to remember the voice of freedom fading away.
Rule of law is not a slogan. Freedom is not a gift.
Without the rule of law or freedom, even the most dazzling skyscrapers are nothing but concrete cages.
Freedom is like a sparrow. Sparrows may not have beautiful feathers, nor enchanting songs. Freedom needs no elegant prose, no flowery slogans. But if you try to cage them, they will resist until death.
Six years have passed. Hong Kong has changed. But our pursuit has not.
One day, when people speak of Hong Kong again, it will no longer be with sighs and sorrow, but with hope—and dignity.
July 27 | In front of the Chinese Consulate in San Francisco In Memory of the Courage of the People of Taishi Village, In Tribute to the Sacrifice of Mr. Guo Feixiong
July 27 | In front of the Chinese Consulate in San Francisco In Memory of the Courage of the People of Taishi Village, In Tribute to the Sacrifice of Mr. Guo Feixiong
Twenty years ago, in Panyu, Guangdong, a group of ordinary villagers stood up and bravely exercised their democratic rights granted by the Constitution, attempting to remove corrupt village officials through legal procedures. Their village, Taishi Village, was thus written into history and became a monument in China’s grassroots democratic movement.
The Taishi Village Recall Incident is a milestone event in China’s exploration of grassroots democracy. It not only revealed the deep-rooted fear and stubborn resistance of the Chinese Communist regime toward democracy, but also demonstrated to the world the power of civic awakening. The resistance of the villagers in Taishi, along with the support of many rights defenders, ignited a spark in China’s democratic movement and illuminated the path for those who followed.
Renowned rights activist Guo Feixiong was sentenced to a total of 19 years for his involvement in and support of this incident: • From 2006 to 2011, he was sentenced to five years; • On November 27, 2015, he was sentenced to six years; • In January 2022, he was imprisoned for the third time, charged with “inciting subversion of state power,” and on May 8, 2023, he was sentenced to eight years.
After being imprisoned, Guo’s health rapidly deteriorated, with symptoms including severe oral bleeding and unstable walking. In April 2016, reports emerged that his life was in critical danger, yet the prison authorities still refused to provide timely medical treatment. On the morning of January 10, 2022, his wife Zhang Qing passed away.
For many years, the chapter of resistance that he co-wrote with the villagers of Taishi continues to inspire countless Chinese people who yearn for freedom, justice, and democracy. It is an immortal chapter in China’s pursuit of democracy.
On the 20th anniversary of the incident, the China Democracy Party and the China Democracy Foundation hereby initiate a commemorative event to honor the courage of the people of Taishi Village, to pay tribute to the sacrifice of Mr. Guo Feixiong, and to call on all sectors of society to continue the struggle—toward the realization of a truly free, democratic, and law-based new China.
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The event will be held on July 27 at 2:00 PM In front of the Chinese Consulate in San Francisco Address: 1450 Laguna St, San Francisco, CA 94115
Conveners: Wang Juntao / Zhao Changqing Organizers: Zhang Xiaoju / Hao Jianping / Zheng Yun / Zhang Junjie On-site Coordinators: Luo Fengwen / Geng Lutao / Miao Qing / Wu Jing / Luo Fengwen / Huang Xiaomin Logistics: Guan Yongjie / Xing Gui / Zhuang Fan / Liu Jingtao / Yang Yuxin
In Solidarity with Fang Yirong: Conscience Still ImprisonedOne Year Since Fang Yirong Was DetainedToday marks exactly one year since Chinese citizen Fang Yirong held a banner in public protest in Xinhua, Hunan, speaking out peacefully against the Chinese Communist regime.
He is not a terrorist, not a violent agitator. He is a young man in his early 20s, who used the most peaceful way—holding a banner and speaking truth—to voice the people’s yearning for democracy, freedom, and justice. He shouted:“No privilege, we want equality!” “No lockdowns, we want freedom!” “No dictatorship, we want votes!” In response, he was secretly detained, forcibly silenced—and remains disappeared to this day. We cannot remain silent. We must let the world know: Fang Yirong is not forgotten. There are people who remember him, who speak out for him, who speak out for conscience! We demand:- The immediate release of Fang Yirong! – The protection of every Chinese citizen’s right to speak, act, and live with dignity! – No more silence. No more fear. No more suppression! Let us come together, gather our voices, protect our hope! Let the call to “Be citizens, not slaves” cross every wall and reach every conscience! A free China begins with those we refuse to forget. Date & Time:Saturday, July 26, 2025 – 4:00 PM Location:In front of the Chinese Consulate in Los Angeles 500 Shatto Pl, Los Angeles, CA 90020 Hosts:Lin Yangzheng (Deputy Director, Youth Department) Cheng Ming (Editor, The Opposition Party Magazine) Organizer:Ni Shicheng (Deputy Director, Action Department) Planning Team:Lin Yangzheng, Zhang Donghao Volunteers:Yang Hao, Yang Changbing, Ma Qun (Translation) Photo/Video:Tuo Xianrun
