Beyond Western Perceptions: Understanding China's Collective Ethos
In the US, some politicians distinguish between the Chinese Communist Party and China as a whole, including its people. This distinction aligns with the Western perspective, which views the Party as infringing upon the rights of its citizens. However, for many Chinese citizens not deeply entrenched in Western ideologies, the line between the "People" and the "Party" is blurred; they often perceive them as one.
Most modern societies are anchored in the belief that individuals inherently possess rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Constitutions are typically seen as social contracts, where citizens exchange some freedoms for mutual protection and a shared value system. Such foundations help establish governmental branches that champion rights, from freedom of speech to freedom of assembly. Yet, this understanding can starkly contrast when trying to fathom China's societal framework through a Western prism. While China does acknowledge individual rights in specific areas, they aren't universally championed as in the West or other liberal Asian nations. At times, these rights might even be seen as hindrances to the collective good or signs of selfish entitlement.
This prevailing sentiment within China, molded by a mix of Party directives and historical narratives, posits that individual rights should take a backseat to national empowerment. It finds its roots in the history lessons ingrained in young Chinese minds, highlighting foreign incursions, the "century of humiliation," and the vulnerabilities of a once mighty Middle Kingdom. The message is lucid: Only a strong nation can ensure that its citizens prosper (强国则强民).
The CCP is adept at harnessing this sentiment, championing an old-world brand of patriotism that may appear out of sync with contemporary global ideals. They assert that enhancing the nation's power and wealth will prevent any recurrence of past humiliations, even though events like the destruction of the Qing pleasure gardens don't truly represent the struggles of ordinary Chinese, who endured hardships under the often-oppressive imperial rule. The projection of strength is vital for the Party's legitimacy. Many Chinese citizens, driven by national pride, endorse this as a means to restore China's historical stature. This sentiment is so strong that many Chinese patriots view the prosperity of countries like Japan and Korea with disdain, perceiving their citizens as capitulating to US hegemony.
Historically, power in China was seen as a divine mandate, mirroring medieval Europe's view of authority as divine. However, while the West underwent a transformative shift toward individual liberty influenced by Protestantism and evolving philosophies, China carved its unique trajectory. The CCP, replacing the divine mandate, now dons a guise of modern liberalism. They champion their rule as an embodiment of the collective 'People,' but the 'People's will' often becomes the very mechanism to suppress individual voices and rights.
For the CCP, their strategy is methodical and shrewd. They starkly distinguish between the collective "People" (emphasized here with a capital "P") and individual citizens. The Party's vision of "collective progress" intertwines national rejuvenation and the Chinese dream. However, the grandeur of tales from the illustrious heydays of the Tang or Qing dynasties can overshadow the realities: the ordinary citizen often faced life without any assured freedoms. Today, this narrative frames the curtailing of individual rights as a required sacrifice for the greater good. As such, many Chinese view these sacrifices, delineated by the Party's doctrines, as inevitable. A subtle yet pervasive hope lingers: that when the time comes, they might be spared from making the next sacrifice.
A recent incident near Beijing exemplifies this dynamic. When unprecedented rainfall threatened to flood the capital, the government, without warning, diverted the deluge towards the smaller town of Zhuozhou in Hebei province, leading to immense hardship for its residents. Discussions critiquing this decision were swiftly silenced by the Party's diligent internet monitors. The Provincial Party Secretary of Hebei declared a commitment to "resolutely act as a 'moat' for the capital (坚决当好首都“护城河”)," unambiguously showcasing the Party's willingness to expend the livelihoods of Zhuozhou villagers for the protection and image of Beijing.
In China, power and rights remain tightly clenched in the hands of the Party. Anyone who challenges this status quo by advocating for inalienable individual rights is swiftly seen as a sign of selfish entitlement and an obstacle to national rejuvenation. While fleeting glimpses of empowerment might sometimes be dangled before the people, power is never truly handed over. As individuals begin to feel a sense of agency, the Party is ever-ready to yank it away, asserting its relentless control and leaving the populace perpetually wary.


You don't think this "silencing of criticism" doesn't happen in the "Western free press"? If you think about it carefully, there is so much more evidence of the CCP addressing criticism (even to the extent of self-reforming) than there is of the US political system responding to long-term issues like racial disparity, child poverty, and even climate change (whatever response is "too little too late").
If you are going to look at China through Western lens, I feel you are doing your readers a disservice.