Why is Speaking Up for China's Underclass Called 'Anti-China'? A Tweet Once Again Exposes the CCP's Patriotic Narrative Logic

Recently, a comment regarding China's online public opinion ecosystem has been circulating in overseas Chinese circles. The content raises a question: Why are accounts that long ignore the suffering of ordinary Chinese people and call for the killing of Americans and Japanese people every day portrayed as 'patriotic bloggers'; while those who truly focus on the survival pressure, unemployment, rights protection, oppression, and social injustice faced by ordinary Chinese people are often labeled as 'anti-China,' 'overseas forces,' or 'haters of the country'?

The original post also cited a statement. The declarant stated, 'My position is firm; I only create products on overseas platforms, with no other intentions.' This expression is believed to reflect a reality in the current Chinese internet environment: more and more people, even when just discussing social issues, products, or living conditions, must perform 'political self-verification' in advance to avoid network attacks or political risks.

In recent years, China's cyberspace has gradually formed a highly distorted 'patriotic certification mechanism.' Under this mechanism, displaying hostility toward the outside, calling for the killing of foreign societies, and repeating official nationalist slogans often earn evaluations of 'positive energy' and 'patriotism'; whereas focusing internally on the experiences of ordinary people, such as unpaid wages for migrant workers, waves of unemployment, youth depression, local financial collapse, unfinished buildings, rights protection incidents, and labor oppression, is more likely to be seen as 'smearing China.'

Many observers believe that this phenomenon is not accidental, but the result of a long-term propaganda system. The CCP officialdom has long emphasized narratives of 'external enemies,' 'overseas infiltration,' and 'color revolutions,' while deliberately suppressing public discussions of the true conditions of the grassroots. The result is that Chinese people who are truly suffering gradually lose their voice in public opinion, while high-intensity nationalist performances become a safe, and even traffic-rewarded, way of expression.

This logic also leads to many absurd scenes on the Chinese internet: those who speak up for delivery drivers, workers demanding unpaid wages, children out of school, and laid-off youth are often cursed as 'handing over the knife'; but accounts that daily fantasize about 'nuclearing Taiwan,' 'bombing Japan,' and 'bloodbathing America' can openly wear the cloak of 'patriotism.'

Some comments point out that this propaganda structure essentially does not care about the Chinese people themselves, but is more concerned with regime stability and emotional mobilization. Because once society begins to truly focus on the realistic dilemmas of ordinary people, people will eventually ask: Why have these problems existed for so long? Who caused them? Why, after so many years of talking about economic development, national rejuvenation, and 'my country is amazing,' has the living pressure on ordinary people become increasingly heavy?

In a highly controlled information environment, 'patriotism' is gradually alienated into a kind of political obedience test. Truly focusing on the human condition, emphasizing individual rights and social fairness, instead makes it easier to touch the most sensitive parts of the propaganda system. In a sense, when a society begins to view 'speaking for Chinese people' as a dangerous act, it precisely indicates that the problems of this society are not just economic problems, but deeper political and cognitive problems.