Written by Weixiang Wang.
Image credit: Social Media Marketing Strategy by Today Testing/ Wiki commons, license: CC BY-SA 4.0.
“One country, two systems; One China, two representations. Taiwanese people can consider themselves as citizens of the Republic of China (ROC) and we mainlanders as People’s Republic of China (PRC).”
It was a kind of Orwellian absurdity when I recalled these words from my junior high school textbooks (between 2009 and 2012). Nowadays, the recognition of ROC or two different interpretations of “China” amounts to treason in the public sphere of the PRC. The PRC has taken an increasingly affirmative attitude towards the so-called “Taiwan problem”, which is best summarized in President Xi Jinping’s speech that the issue cannot “be passed down from generation to generation.” Taiwan has nevertheless defied the pressures from Beijing under the leadership of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), which has won two consecutive elections. Moreover, the intense Sino-US rivalry also adds to the tensions in the Taiwan strait, as Beijing accuses Washington of interfering in its “domestic affairs” by supporting “Taiwan independence”. At the same time, Washington warns Beijing not to disturb regional peace. The destabilizing effect of these events on the cross-strait relationship is beyond doubt. What is largely overlooked in both popular and academic writings, however, is the rise of “anti-Taiwan chauvinism,” a product of cyber nationalism, at the PRC’s grassroots level promoted by non-state actors. In this article, I focus on two types of actors whose online communication activities contribute to the worsening online public opinion of Taiwan in the PRC: the nationalistic online key opinion leaders as “popular propagandists” and pro-Beijing Taiwanese online influencers (wanghong).
Popular Propagandists and the Production of Cyber Nationalism
I would like to start the discussion in the context of former US House speaker Nancy Pelosi’s visit to Taiwan in 2022, to which the PRC responded furiously with unprecedented large-scale military drills that effectively “sealed off” Taiwan. The geopolitical implications of this event have received extensive discussions, and what I present here is the PRC’s domestic side of the story, which has largely gone unnoticed by foreign observers. The following two posts are typical examples of the heightened nationalistic sentiments online:
“If Pelosi is determined to go ahead with her Taiwan visit, then…shooting her plane down is certainly an option.”
“The Pelosi event actually provides us with a strategic opportunity for us to take back Penghu and Lanyu islands as a partial victory of reunion with the whole Taiwan island.”
Given the fact that nationalism is among the few permissible forms of online political discussions in the PRC, the above posts might not seem so surprising amid Pelosi’s Taiwan visit. However, it is one thing for an ordinary netizen to call for “liberating Taiwan” and another for public figures with millions of followers to openly call for military actions without being censored. The above posts were issued by Hu Xijin, the former chief editor of the nationalist outlet Global Times, and Sima Nan, the self-made commentator known for his exposure of “fake science” and ultra-xenophobic stances. They represent the broad cohort of “popular propagandists,” also known as “Patriotic Big V” (爱国大V) in the PRC, who are online key opinion leaders producing social and political news and commentaries featuring nationalistic perspectives. They are “popular” because their tones are drastically different from that of official and mainstream media by actively incorporating popular catchphrases, digital (sub)cultures and at times (intentionally) vulgar languages in their contents.
Moreover, as self-made media entrepreneurs, most of them do not belong to the state’s formal propaganda system. Nevertheless, I still consider their activities as propaganda, not necessarily because their contents contain biased information with clear ideological messages intending to influence public opinions, but also because I consider propaganda as a sociological phenomenon of the co/reproduction of ideological messages. Though not directly affiliated with the state, popular propagandists constitute a crucial component of the PRC’s cyber nationalism, which is under the influences of both top-down and bottom-up expectations and restraints. On the one hand, popular propagandists largely hold pro-regime attitudes, a key difference from more undisciplined grassroots nationalists who tend to be critical of the regime either due to its perceived weakness in international affairs or failure to address domestic citizens’ concerns. On the other hand, they are under the public expectation to be “independent” and “authentic” rather than acting as the puppet of the state.
Wanghong as Cultural Diplomats
Apart from popular propagandists, wanghong (网红, online influencers), their more “apolitical” counterparts, also contribute to the rise of “anti-Taiwan” chauvinism. Being the Chinese version of the global micro-celebrity phenomenon, wanghong are online influencers whose content production or livestreaming activities generate popularity and considerable incomes. Though the Great Fire Wall (GFW) effectively cuts China’s cybersphere from the free internet, its burgeoning opportunities attract a large cohort of foreign influencers, many of whom voluntarily self-censor and succumb to the demands of the censors. A report by the Australian Strategic Policy Institute found that the Communist Party of China (CPC) has been actively co-opting foreign influencers for propaganda purposes in both domestic and foreign platforms, especially on issues related to Xinjiang Hongkong under a broad anti-West agenda. Though more systematic research shows that most foreign influencers operating on the PRC’s internet produce apolitical content, they can still lead to negative public impressions of foreign countries through an essentially “cultural” account. For Taiwanese influencers who wish to gain influence on the PRC’s internet, being “politically correct” by denying Taiwan’s status as a sovereign state is essential. 阿神, aka AshanKouki, the Taiwanese YouTuber who had almost a million followers in the PRC, was boycotted due to his alleged “Taiwan independence” stance. Interestingly, in recent years, most Taiwanese or foreign (micro)celebrities were “cancelled” in the PRC not due to the top-down regulatory ban but the bottom-up pressures. The grassroots nationalist pressure is both a challenge and an opportunity for Taiwanese (and foreign) influencers, as pledging support for “unification” and claiming to be “Chinese” immediately increases their popularity. Su Huan, a former member of Taiwan’s New Party, which is known for its pro-Beijing stance, gained influence on Bilibili, a popular video site among young netizens, by posting pro-PRC propaganda videos. Although less overtly propagandistic, another Taiwanese blogger, 阿布夭二, intentionally addressed Chinese netizens’ stereotypes of Taiwan, such as Taiwanese males being “sissy” and Taiwanese news reports being “ridiculous.” This kind of reverse Orientalism by Taiwanese influencers can be as damaging as pro-PRC propaganda, as it presents misrepresentations under the pretence of “authentic” Taiwanese perspectives from Taiwanese people.
Implications of Rising Anti-Taiwan Sentiments
Both popular propagandists and Taiwanese wanghongs are subject to the demands of “commercial nationalism” and “wanghong economy”, which require a careful balance between clickbait-rewarding sensationalism and self-preserving political correctness. As a result, their narratives in relation to Taiwan are deeply concerning because they not only lead to the worsening public opinions of Taiwan but also reflect an increasing tolerance of hardline, possibly military actions to solve the problem both on the state and the public side. Beyond geopolitical events, they also construct an image of “naïve” and “chaotic” Taiwan via card-staking propaganda focusing on, for example, the fistfights in Legislative Yuan, the “egg crisis” due to supply chain problems and the missteps in its military drills. “Taiwanese frog” (台蛙) is among the derogatory catchphrases commonly adopted in their narratives as a ridicule to the Taiwanese people. Such misrepresentation of Taiwanese society suggests that popular propagandists have gone beyond denouncing “separatists” and picturing the whole Taiwanese society in a negative tone. Moreover, the fact that the state tacitly approves such ultra-nationalistic narratives, if not overtly promoting them, suggests that it no longer considers it necessary to indoctrinate its public with the need for “peaceful unification” as the ultimate solution for cross-strait relationships. For example, the reference to Taiwan changed from “ROC Taipei” (中华台北) to “PRC Taiwan” (中国台湾) in the broadcasting of international sports events. The use of “Taiwan province” (台湾省) has also grown exponentially in tabloid news. Nevertheless, by no means am I suggesting the CPC is formally departing from “peaceful unification” as the fundamental *policy* in dealing with the Taiwan issue. It is also one thing for the PRC citizens to have a bad impression of Taiwan and another to actually support the state’s military actions towards Taiwan, most likely at their own expense. That said, the rise of anti-Taiwan chauvinism at the grassroots, most of which have gone unchecked, implies that the government can be psychologically preparing the Chinese public for a major escalation or unexpected major movements in the Taiwan Strait.
Weixiang Wang is a PhD student in the School of Politics and International Relations at the University of Nottingham. His research interests cover Chinese politics, cyber nationalism, propaganda, digital politics, and the politics of internet subcultures.
This article was published as part of a special issue on ‘Media Dynamics Across the Strait’.
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