China's Information War on Covid-19

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During the last week of 2020, I traveled to Shanghai to visit a friend before New Year’s. While having lunch, I got a Wechat message from my mom forwarding an article titled “The Situation is Worse than we Think.” This must be about the “new virus” from Wuhan that I had heard bits about from here and there, I thought after reading the title, but soon put my phone away, thinking that it is just one thing among hundred others that mom worries too much about. 

It wasn’t until later that afternoon when I got around to opening the article, and was surprised to find that it was already deleted. The familiar yet alarming red exclamation on the screen immediately woke me from my state of comfort: the fact that this article was censored revealed more than its possible content. 

I knew from then that the situation was indeed a lot worse than I thought. 

Private Messages became Public News

Most young people in China, like me, found out about the Coronavirus outbreak not through the TV or news, but through privately circulated information on Chinese social media. 

Retrospectively, cases of “pneumonia with unknown origin” were found in Wuhan as early as December 8, but the state media remained radio-silent until silence was no longer an option. 

On December 30, an emergency document bearing a red-colored header and the official seal of the Wuhan Municipal Health Commission, titled “Regarding Reporting on Cases of Pneumonia of Unknown Origin” (市卫生健康委关于报送不明原因肺炎救治情况的紧急通知)[1] was leaked online — the first “evidence” on the new virus involuntarily made available to the public. The next day, the Wuhan government confirmed that there were a total of 27 cases, 7 of which severe, but denied that there was any evidence of human-to-human transmission.[2] 

For the following several weeks, no more reports were published on this “new pneumonia with unknown origin.”[3] Party meetings and celebrations leading up to the Spring Festival continued to be held as if everything was back to normal.

While state media and officials kept their mouths shut, the public was not quiet. Information regarding the new virus was circulated online through private messages and group chats. On December 30, a leaked screenshot of group chat messages warning against 7 confirmed cases of SARS coronavirus in Wuhan hospitals gained significant momentum online.[4] Later, it was confirmed that the messages were sent by Dr. Li Wenliang, a doctor working at the Wuhan Central Hospital. 

Officials Took Measures Against “Rumormongers”

The next day, however, Dr. Li was summoned by the hospital’s inspection unit for a talk. Li received a call from the Wuhan Municipal Health Commission at 1:30AM, was interrogated by the officers (院领导) and driven home by the chief director (主任) at 4:00AM. The next day, Li continued to be questioned by the hospital’s inspection and was asked to write a self-reflection, admitting to the wrongdoings of “spreading rumors.”[5] Later on January 3, Li was called in by the Wuhan police office to sign an admonition document, once again admitting his “wrongdoings.”[6] 

Private reprimand was clearly not enough. Li, along with seven other “rumormongers” (later revealed to all be doctors and medical professionals), were publicly condemned on TV news and the Wuhan police’s official Weibo account.[7] The police warned the public, “the internet is not outside the law. The information you post and the things you say online should comply with all laws and regulations. The police will investigate and deal with such illegal acts as fabricating and spreading false information and rumors and disrupting social order. Such actions will not be tolerated.”[8] 

Critical Citizens and Critical Journalists 

To kill a chicken in order to frighten a monkey (杀鸡儆猴) — a common strategy employed by the Chinese government to elicit fear by publicly punishing certain personnel — seemed to have lost its effectiveness this time. In response, citizens continued to take on the role of information disseminators, writing more in-depth and openly critical articles regarding the epidemic.

One of the former articles written on January 21 was titled “None of the Important Information We Now Know About Wuhan Pneumonia was First Published by Wuhan Authorities.” The author unveiled the stark reality that useful information made known to the public never came from official government channels. It became increasingly clear that in contrast to the government’s self-assured statement that the epidemic is “preventable and controllable”(可防可控), the disease was highly contentious and fast-spreading in reality.[9] Such an openly critical article was, of course, quickly censored and deleted. 

Citizens were soon backed by critical journalists, who further criticized the state’s incompetence and revealed critical information to the public.

On January 25, China Newsweek (中国新闻周刊) published the report “Wuhan Doctor: When the Epidemic Started ‘we weren’t allowed to say anything.’” Doctor Lin Yun from Wuhan Union Hospital was quoted, “if official channels had made the situation clear from the beginning, at least 50% to 60% of people would have taken preventative measures.”[10]

On January 27, Beijing Youth Daily published an in-depth interview with Dr. Li Wenliang, who has become severely infected himself while treating patients and was transferred to the ICU, detailing his experience after being accused of spreading “rumors.” Caixin, another rising critical media outlet, also conducted an interview with Li on January 31, where Li was famously quoted, “I think there should be more than one voice in a healthy society.”[11] The majority of these articles were censored and deleted, though some of them remained accessible online. Nevertheless, the articles instigated intense public response despite their short life span.     


Can’t Speak when He was Alive; Can’t Die When He was Dying  

A month or so has passed since the initial outbreak of the coronavirus. Despite the fact that the government continued to prove its incompetence through resource shortage, buck-passing, and corruption scandals, the public seemed to have accepted the new norms of life during the crisis. Three hygiene rules — wear masks, wash hands, avoid contacts — were strictly followed; classes and schools resumed online, while resources and donations were collected nation-wide; netizens started to circulate humorous memes and videos to cope with the panic of and boredom that came in lieu of home quarantine.   

One key event on February 6th, — the passing of Dr. Li Wenliang from coronavirus infection— ignited public anger to an unforeseen level. 

The Wuhan Central Hospital announced that Li had passed away at 2:58AM on February 7th.   According to Li's colleagues, however, Li’s heartbeat stopped as early as 9:30PM the night before, yet he was put through three hours of CPR and then on extracorporeal life support which, as doctors have claimed, had no other purpose other than to forcefully delay his time of death.[12]     

What was the purpose of delaying Li’s death? A document titled “Recommendations for Handling Netizen Reaction to Li Wenliang’s Death” meant to be read only for “relevant central authorities”[13] was leaked online the following day. The classified document answered the very question — to control public sentiment. As one citizen put online, the government thought the disappointment towards a failed rescue “could dilute the anger towards the sudden announcement of Li’s death” — a common crisis management strategy employed by the Chinese government.[14] 

On the same day of Li’s death, censorship instruction detailing “safely control the temperature of interactive sections, do not set up special topic sections, gradually withdraw the topic from Hot Search lists, and strictly manage harmful information”[15] was issued by government authorities.  

It seemed like Li’s death only promoted stricter censorship. 

The Peak of Social Anger 

At the same time, however, something significant has shifted following Li’s death. The screenshot of the “Admonition Document” signed by Li at the Wuhan Police Office went viral, and the two questions “Can you do this?” and “Do you understand?” originally asked to elicit Li’s compliance in the document became the new catchphrases, through which the netizens expressed their refusal to comply with authoritative orders. Hashtags as explicit as #WeWantFreeSpeech and #WeDemandFreeSpeech picked up quickly online, and formal proposals were written to the People’s Congress demanding freedom of speech. The Wuhan citizens organized a “whistleblowing” memorial session as a tribute to Li’s “whistleblower” role for the people.[16] 

Hero or Human?  

The Chinese government seems to be very fond of the idea of national heroes, so much so they had to make an annually held TV ceremony honoring those who made some sort of sacrifice for the country. The concept of national heroes (民族英雄) is particularly attractive during times of crisis; somehow honoring those who made extraordinary acts — medical personnels, soldiers, public service workers — would turn tragedies into melodies. How? By diverting the attention away from government incapability and justifying the exploitation of vulnerable people. 

The narrative of Li’s story also took a full turn after his death: once being called a “rumormonger” by the government, Li has become another “national hero” who devoted his life to the honorable fight against the evil virus. The government was hoping that people would praise the hero, wipe their tears, and move on. 

Unexpectedly, however, the public sentiment escalated quickly from sorrow to anger towards humiliation and indignation, the latter ones summoning a political strength beyond pure emotional response. Instead of “heroitizing” Li into someone extraordinary, the people “humanized” him as “one of us” ordinary people. Li’s personal story, consequently, became one shared at a societal story: a tragedy of having no voice and no truth under authoritarian media control. The quantity and intensity of voices and demands unfolded at an unforeseen level: in my 22 years of life as a Chinese citizen, I can’t recall a time when the mass public confronted authorities in such a straightforward and unapologetic manner. Provoked by the death of Li, diverse social groups were on the page that something about the current governance needs to change, and that the momentum of that change could only come from the people demanding it. 

But how long will this momentum of social change last? History suggests that outbursts of public anger are doomed to be short-lived. I, however, am choosing to remain tentatively optimistic: a ray of light might be swallowed by the darkness in an instant, but a beam of light will illuminate a  path through this dark night. 

Disclaimer on sources:

Due to the nature of Chinese internet censorship, most of the primary sources used in this article are no longer available online. Therefore, I had to make the compromise to rely heavily on China Digital Time, a secondary website that tracks and records activities happening within the Great Firewall of China (China’s system of internet regulation), for articles and photos that did not survive the censorships. The usage of information obtained from CDT is backed by my own observations as a Chinese netizen who closely followed how the whole process unfold. 




Sources

  1. Wikimedia, “市卫生健康委关于报送不明原因肺炎救治情况的紧急通知.”

  2. Rudolph, “CDT Censorship Digest, January 2020: Wuhan Coronavirus Outbreak.”

  3. Rudolph, “CDT Censorship Digest, January 2020: Wuhan Coronavirus Outbreak.”

  4. 于无声处 . “【网络民议】‘你还不能死,你听明白了吗?’.”

  5. 韩谦 . “北青深一度|受训诫的武汉医生:11天后被病人传染住进隔离病房.”

  6. Qin and Shen. “Whistleblower Li Wenliang: There Should Be More Than One Voice In A Healthy Society.”

  7. “还原‘超级传播者’传染路径 武汉医生:疫情刚开始‘整个不让说.’”

  8. Rudolph, “CDT Censorship Digest, January 2020: Wuhan Coronavirus Outbreak.”

  9. “事实杂货铺|我们已知的武汉肺炎的重要消息,都不是武汉官方首发的.”

  10. China News Weekly, “还原‘超级传播者’传染路径 武汉医生:疫情刚开始‘整个不让说.’”

  11. Qin and Shen. “Whistleblower Li Wenliang: There Should Be More Than One Voice In A Healthy Society.”

  12. 于无声处 . “【网络民议】‘你还不能死,你听明白了吗?’.”

  13. Rudolph, trans. “Translation: Recommendations for Handling Netizen Reaction to Li Wenliang's Death.”

  14. 于无声处 . “【网络民议】‘你还不能死,你听明白了吗?’.”

  15. Wade. “Minitrue: Control Temperature on Death of Coronavirus Whistleblower.” 

  16. 于是无声 . “CDS档案: 言论自由从今天开始--中国民众纪念李文亮医生(持续更新).”