Yaoyao Jiang: What They Fear Is Not Dou Wentao | A Suspicious Incident on the Eve of the 19th Party Congress
This article reviews the sudden suspension of Phoenix TV's flagship current affairs talk show 'Qiang Qiang San Ren Xing' just before the 19th National Congress in 2017. It analyzes the process from its regular broadcast to its forced removal, arguing that its ban was not due to any single episode crossing the line, but rather because it cultivated the public's habit of independent thinking and questioning official conclusions. Under the high-pressure environment of political security and the principle that news and public opinion must follow the Party, the space for roundtable discussions was completely obliterated.
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Hello everyone, I am Yao Yao Yao Jiang, who loves to think and values logic.
On September 8, 2017, Dou Wentao, Xu Zidong, and Ma Jiahui sat around the familiar round table discussing the movie Dunkirk. One was just off duty, right? One was about to start class. Was it for Dunkirk? There was no broadcast accident, nor a farewell ceremony. Four days later, the official Weibo account suddenly announced: "Due to program adjustments by the company, 'Qiang Qiang' is temporarily suspended... See you later." On the same day, a Weibo search for "《锵锵三人行》" only showed "According to relevant laws, regulations, and policies, search results are not displayed." Also disappearing were "Zhen Hai Ting Feng Lu" and "Shi Shi Bian Lun Hui".
If only that episode about Dunkirk said something wrong, why were three current affairs commentary programs removed simultaneously, and even the program names could not be searched normally? Why did a program that had been broadcast for 19 years disappear just 40 days before the 19th National Congress? Today we will find the person who removed this round table. His wife is Peng Liyuan. He said you have to shout for a while, but you see what kind of person you marry. If you marry someone who is successful in his career, ambitious, and someone who can handle you if you are really capable, then it won't be so simple.
"Qiang Qiang San Ren Xing" premiered in April 1998. The program, which later became Phoenix's signature, had a somewhat accidental start. Dou Wentao, in his first two years at Phoenix, had not found his place. He imitated the exaggerated speaking style of Hong Kong and Taiwanese hosts at the time, acting surprised by everything. Later, at a meeting, the station was preparing to launch a daily three-person talk show. Someone suggested Dou Wentao host it. Laughter erupted in the room. Clearly, at that time, not many people considered this young man, who didn't seem like a standard TV host, the best choice. But Liu Changle asked Dou Wentao in the meeting how he felt. Dou Wentao had just said he thought it was okay, but Liu Changle interrupted him. Liu didn't want to hear the hesitation, and decided on the matter on the spot. Thus, "Qiang Qiang San Ren Xing" came into being. A host who didn't seem like a standard host, plus two guests who entered the state on the spot, formed a rare talk space in Chinese television history.
After this reply, the interaction became lively. Single people would understand better, so I think Weibo, in this sense, is a good medium for Chinese civil society.
A round table, three chairs. No live audience, and no announcement of who wins or loses. The program lasted about twenty minutes daily. The three could discuss international news, or talk about housing prices, education, marriage, movies, and street observations. This is about gossip. I think anything close to female sexuality is considered gossip. That time, China called it a crackdown on pornography, but Amsterdam called it a red-light district. So, is this topic red or yellow? The conversation often shifts from a major event to a person's life, and then from life back to the system.
Dou Wentao doesn't rush to prove himself. He often pretends not to understand, asking questions that viewers might want to ask but find inconvenient. Sometimes he deliberately says something worldly or even offensive to provoke guests into refuting him. Once the guests get serious, he retreats back to his role as host. This is not a formal political science class, nor is it a host interrogating guests with the correct answers. His most important characteristic is that the three people on camera express their opinions freely, communicating on the same level about the same issue.
Liang Wendao can discuss thought and systems, Xu Zidong can talk about human nature through literary works, Ma Jiahui can talk about personal feelings from his Hong Kong life. Chen Danqing, Wang Shuo, Ren Zhiqiang, Wang Meng, Feng Xiaogang, and many other writers, journalists, and scholars from different backgrounds have sat around this round table.
Chinese news commentary programs usually set the tone by the host, with guests explaining, and finally returning to the correct conclusion. However, Qiang Qiang does not require the three people to reach a consensus. No one needs to represent an organization, and no one needs to convince anyone else. This lack of uniformity is precisely what makes it most attractive. From 1998 to 2017, it aired approximately 5,000 episodes. Many Chinese people turned on Phoenix TV at night not to get exclusive news, but to hear how these specific individuals interpreted the news.
Shouldn't our law be abolished? Many advanced countries, right? Including mainland China, don't have this anymore. Why does Taiwan still have adultery?
Phoenix's news is more lively than CCTV's, and its tone is closer to ordinary people than mainland party media, yet it does not deviate from the political scope acceptable to the CCP. Some people scold him for being a government mouthpiece, while others accuse him of taking a Western stance. Liu Changle considered this dissatisfaction from both sides as proof that Phoenix maintained multiple voices. This approach brought brands and advertising to Phoenix, and also made many people who disliked CCTV feel that it at least dared to
One of the biggest problems with social justice is the fairness of the judiciary. If the judiciary is unfair, it's like the water source being polluted; the entire river basin is ruined.
In April, the program discussed the death of a middle school student in Luzhou, Sichuan. It was rumored online that this child was targeted by the sons of officials, like the county magistrate's son, and so on. If traditional media were more professional, they would have immediately investigated whether there was a child of that age at the scene, what their age was, and the principal would have quickly revealed the truth. I myself only learned the truth a few days later and had no idea beforehand, believing the rumors to be true.
For Qiang Qiang, the issue isn't just whether a particular rumor is true or false, but why the public's first reaction to local government statements is not to believe them, but to suspect concealment. This turns a local incident into a problem of the government's overall credibility.
In May, "Qiang Qiang" discussed Guo Li again. Guo Li's daughter had been harmed by melamine-tainted milk powder. He sought justice from the milk powder company but was later sentenced to 5 years for extortion. After his release, he continued to appeal and was eventually acquitted.
He said that because Guo Li studied foreign languages, he thought there were many such cases abroad. He thought, 'If I sue Coca-Cola, I heard in the US they'll compensate me, maybe hundreds of millions, even hundreds of millions of dollars.' Perhaps he was a bit naive, as people say, so he thought asking for millions was normal and the company agreed. In reality, the company was suspected of entrapment. They actually started by accusing him of extortion and then said, 'I'll pay 3 million, come negotiate.' That was the process.
The program didn't need to shout about judicial injustice. It just needed to present the process, and the audience would ask: Why did a father seeking justice for his daughter end up in jail for 5 years? What roles did the company, the police, and the judiciary play in this matter? If not for years of appeals, would the mistake have been accepted as correct?
In August, the program discussed the
Three weeks later, Phoenix received its first direct blow. On June 22, the State Administration of Press, Publication, Radio, Film and Television (SAPPRFT) named Sina Weibo, AcFun, and iFeng.com, demanding they cease audiovisual program services and undergo comprehensive rectification. The lack of an audiovisual program dissemination license for iFeng.com was indeed one of the official reasons. However, the same notice pointed out two other issues: first, the extensive broadcast of current affairs audiovisual programs that did not comply with national regulations; and second, social commentary programs that promoted negative speech, and current affairs social commentary. These two points clearly indicated the target.
The next day, iFeng.com publicly responded, stating they sincerely accepted the criticism, would conduct a thorough review of relevant content, and strengthen management. They also announced further cooperation with institutions possessing the necessary qualifications, such as CCTV and Xinhua News Agency. This response also clarified the direction of rectification: iFeng could no longer rely on its own editorial judgment to produce and disseminate current affairs content but would have to depend more on official institutions. On the same day, Phoenix New Media also had to disclose this regulatory action to the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission. Company announcements are more direct than public relations texts for Chinese audiences. The announcement admitted that the regulatory notice involved iFeng's lack of a license and also mentioned several commentary programs that violated government regulations. This company filing confirmed that the content issues at Phoenix News were not mere speculation but were explicitly stated in the regulatory requirements received by iFeng.
Rectification occurred quickly. Content from
The third regulation is that discussions must not revolve around negative topics that easily spark controversy. In 2017, the Yu Huan "mother-insulting" case shocked the nation. Yu Huan’s mother, Su Yingxia, owed money to loan sharks and was besieged by more than ten debt collectors who verbally abused and beat her for an extended period. When the police arrived, they did not separate the parties, merely stating that fighting was not allowed before leaving the reception room. Yu Huan attempted to follow the police out but was blocked by the debt collectors again. In the ensuing chaos, he grabbed a fruit knife and stabbed four people, one of whom died. Yu Huan was initially sentenced to life imprisonment. “Qiang Qiang” subsequently produced an episode titled “Revisiting the Liaocheng Mother-Insulting Murder Case.” When comparing the spiritual and emotional well-being of individuals, for example, with Western jurisprudence, you will find that the compensation for emotional distress in China is pitifully low to this day! This illustrates how little value is placed on a person’s dignity and the harm or humiliation they suffer emotionally. This episode discussed more than just a criminal case; it delved into questions such as: when a mother is insulted in front of her son, how far does his resistance qualify as self-defense? Should the police, who were present but failed to stop the assault, bear responsibility? Does an unfeeling verdict uphold the law or damage its dignity? These questions have no standard answers, yet they were the questions on the minds of countless Chinese people at the time. Later, the Shandong High People’s Court, in its second trial, recognized that Yu Huan’s actions constituted excessive self-defense and reduced his sentence from life imprisonment to five years. The second-trial result announced by the Supreme People’s Court also indicated that the initial debate was not meaningless. However, according to the new general rules, this episode would be problematic. "Mother-insulting," usury, gangster-like debt collection, police dereliction of duty, and judicial controversy – almost every keyword falls under the category of negative topics that easily spark controversy.
The fourth regulation states that hosts must promptly refute incorrect viewpoints. In 2017, martial arts coach Xu Xiaodong publicly challenged traditional Chinese martial arts and quickly defeated Tai Chi master Lei Lei in a match. The video went viral nationwide, and the debate quickly extended beyond martial arts itself. Can traditional martial arts be used in actual combat? Are so-called Tai Chi masters genuinely skilled, or is it a collective deception? “Qiang Qiang” invited Xu Xiaodong for three consecutive episodes to explain why he was debunking fake martial arts and challenging various schools. Subsequently, Tai Chi master Wang Zhanhai was invited for two consecutive episodes to respond to Xu Xiaodong and demonstrate Tai Chi on-site. Dou Wentao did not declare Xu Xiaodong as representing science, nor did he dismiss Wang Zhanhai as a fraud. He invited both parties to the same round table, allowing each to speak their piece before leaving the judgment to the audience. However, under the new regulations, the host can no longer merely be an interviewer and mediator. They must first determine the correct viewpoint and, upon discovering an incorrect one, immediately interrupt and refute it. This would mean that when Xu Xiaodong spoke, Dou Wentao would have to argue against him on behalf of traditional martial arts; when Wang Zhanhai spoke, he would have to correct him on behalf of modern combat. The round table would cease to be a place for discussing issues and instead become an examination hall where the host constantly announces the standard answers.
Lei Yang’s case cannot be reasoned about, Lei Zhengfu’s case cannot be joked about, and Yu Huan’s case cannot be debated; between Xu Xiaodong and Wang Zhanhai, the host must judge who is right and who is wrong. With these four regulations strictly enforced, even if “Qiang Qiang” retained its original name, set, and three chairs, the round table would no longer exist. This is why it did not undergo a revamp but was directly suspended.
However, a set of industry review guidelines still doesn't explain the specific timing. Why not June? Why specifically September? Because at this point, there was just over a month left until the 19th National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). On August 31, 2017, the Political Bureau of the CCP Central Committee announced that the 19th National Congress would be held on October 18. The next day, CCTV launched its theme propaganda campaign to welcome the 19th National Congress. The official requirements for such programs were stated plainly: to create a favorable public opinion atmosphere for the convening of the 19th National Congress. A favorable public opinion atmosphere means organizing content for news and arts programs around a common political objective, focusing on showcasing achievements, reducing the volume of contradictions, and preemptively handling voices that cannot be controlled. On September 7, the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC) also released regulations on the management of internet groups and public accounts, requiring operators of WeChat, Weibo, and various groups to bear more direct content responsibility. The following day, “Qiang Qiang” aired its final episode. Four days later, three Phoenix TV commentary programs were suspended simultaneously. The suspension of “Qiang Qiang” occurred forty days before the opening of the 19th National Congress. Phoenix TV had just undergone more than two months of content rectification, CCTV began unifying its propaganda agenda, and several influential commentary programs disappeared together. This is difficult to explain as a mere revamp. At the time, multiple media outlets quoted internal sources at Phoenix TV saying that the suspension order came from the propaganda department of the State Administration of Press, Publication, Radio, Film and Television (SAPPRFT), and there was no need to hold a press conference or explain to the public which specific statement had offended whom. Public documents stipulated the direction, while internal directives were responsible for execution. The television station announced it externally as a program adjustment, and the public could only see the result.
But the absence of a public verdict does not mean there was no broadcast ban. If it were truly a temporary suspension, it should have resumed later; if it were a regular revamp, the program's name should not have been subject to search restrictions; if it were a commercial elimination, the three programs dealt with at the same time should not have been exclusively current affairs commentary. Phoenix did indeed face business pressure at the time, but that does not explain these phenomena. What happened in September was a concentrated cleanup of Phoenix's current affairs commentary segments. "Qiang Qiang" was not suspended because it said something wrong in its last episode, but because the management before the 19th National Congress no longer tolerated what she might say. In the past, a welcome pine tree could block a sentence, but by 2017, the management decided to remove the entire round table. In the past, they wanted to utilize Phoenix's liveliness and credibility while cutting off a few sensitive contents. Now, political security overrides everything, and the program's charm has become a risk.
However, if the CCP truly cannot tolerate three people sitting down to chat, why did Dou Wentao not disappear later? Why could the program "Round Table Pie" continue to be broadcast? "Round Table Pie" was launched a year before "Qiang Qiang" was suspended. It was still Dou Wentao sitting in the middle, with familiar guests like Liang Wendao, Xu Zidong, and Ma Jiahui, discussing culture and society from personal experiences, and the program name even directly included the word "Round Table." After "Qiang Qiang" was suspended, Dou Wentao continued to record "Round Table Pie" and later hosted "Qiang Qiang Travels the World." He did not disappear from the screen, nor did he completely lose the opportunity to speak. This indicates that it was not Dou Wentao himself who was targeted, nor was it the format of three people chatting.
The real difference lies in timeliness. In a 2018 interview, Xu Zidong specifically compared the two programs. He said that "Round Table Pie" lacked timeliness, while "Qiang Qiang" used to convey the real voices of ordinary people every day. "Round Table Pie" is a pre-recorded seasonal program, with themes more focused on culture, life, emotions, and personal experiences, allowing ample time for review. "Qiang Qiang," on the other hand, was broadcast daily on weekdays. If a case occurred today, the round table might start discussing it tomorrow. Before the official stance was set, the guests had already offered their opinions. To the propaganda system, these two types of conversations are entirely different. Discussing books, travel, and midlife anxiety can be packaged as cultural consumption. Discussing why a father defending his rights is in jail? Why don't the public believe local governments will be held accountable for power? "Round Table Pie" retained Dou Wentao's conversational ability but reduced his speed in intervening in real-world politics. "Qiang Qiang Travels the World" took the round table on travels, seemingly expanding the space but weakening its political timeliness. Therefore, the post-suspension arrangement was a transformation of "Qiang Qiang." The host, guests, and the charm of the conversation could remain, but the power to make timely judgments on public affairs every day had to be removed.
That's where the danger of the round table lies: it allows the audience to see that a public event can have multiple interpretations, experts can be questioned, and official conclusions do not prevent people from continuing to ask questions. What is more difficult to handle than a fierce criticism is that after hearing the authoritative conclusion, the audience is accustomed to sitting down and thinking if there are other possibilities. "Qiang Qiang" cultivated this habit over 19 years. The people at the round table might make mistakes or go off-topic, but the meaning of public discussion is not to guarantee that everyone is always correct, but that power cannot monopolize the right to interpretation. The requirements of the CCP's propaganda system are the exact opposite: facts can be many, but interpretation must be one; guests can be different, but the direction must be consistent. The host can be humorous, but humor cannot weaken the official conclusion. The deepest conflict of "Qiang Qiang" was not that a certain episode touched a certain red line, but the conflict between round table discussions and propaganda discipline. In the past, this conflict could be navigated by Dou Wentao and temporarily obscured by the welcome pine. Xi Jinping demanded that the media fully adhere to the party, and before the 19th National Congress, he sought to unify public opinion. There was no room for maneuver. "Qiang Qiang" was not stopped because it was the most radical in China; precisely because it was not radical, it entered the lives of the largest number of ordinary people. For a political program, viewers know the stance from the beginning. "Qiang Qiang," however, started with movies, food, and social news, allowing ordinary people to unknowingly encounter different judgments and interpretations. For a regime that demands all media obey a unified direction, this gentle yet persistent influence is more difficult to manage.
After the suspension of "Qiang Qiang San Ren Xing", the promise of "see you later" was never fulfilled. Dou Wentao is still around, and Xu Zidong, Ma Jiahui, and Liang Wendao occasionally sit by his side, but the program that faced current events daily and could raise questions the next day never returned. In retrospect, Phoenix TV's handling was very successful. It did not create an arrested host, nor did it publicly announce a political ban. The program team only said that the platform temporarily restricted searches. As time passed and audiences saw Dou Wentao again in other programs, the impact of the suspension was dispersed. This was more effective than a public ban. Allowing a program to disappear silently under the guise of adjustment makes production organizations self-censor and no longer wait for regulatory departments to remind them sentence by sentence. The ending of "Qiang Qiang" sent a signal to the entire industry: even if there were no obvious incidents, the program had been broadcast for 19 years, and the hosts understood the boundaries, but as long as the unpredictable space for public discussion was preserved, it could be terminated at any time. Producers would no longer ask if a segment could pass, but would first ask if such a program was still necessary. Hosts would not wait for guests to cross the line before interrupting, but would avoid topics that might lead to responsibility issues from the selection stage. Platforms would not wait to be named by regulators, but would prioritize content that was safe, controllable, and could be edited in advance. When a program disappears, it leaves not only a gap in the program schedule but also questions that were not subsequently raised. Looking back, in its 19 years, "Qiang Qiang" did not overthrow anything, nor did it change any policy. It simply had a few people sit down every day and turn official news into ordinary people's questions. These inquiries, individually, were not earth-shattering, but their long-term existence created space for public discussion. What was removed in 2017 was precisely a small but very important part of public life. That's all for today.
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This small channel. I am Yao Yao Yao Jiang, who loves thinking and values logic. See you next time.