CENSORSHIP AND CYBER-NATIONALISM IN CHINESE MEDIA

The age of social media has seen a rise in digital movements aimed at social change or the promotion of a particular ideology. Much discourse takes place over the internet and social media – in some cases, leading to tangible action for social change as well. Since the invention of Information and Communication Technology (ICT), nationalistic citizens worldwide have used it as a conduit to condemn or support government figures, measures, etc. as a means of expressing their patriotic sentiment. Even in systems of media that are as restrictive as that of China, nationalistic sentiment is fostered over the internet to a significant degree. Little Pink, known in Mandarin as xiao fenhong, is one prominent example of this emerging phenomenon of cyber-nationalism in China. 

What is Little Pink?

‘Little Pink’ is the name given to a mostly female-led cyber-nationalist movement in China that marks a departure from the 'aggressive', ‘masculine’ form of nationalism commonly seen in the media. Instead, it engages in emotionally charged and culturally expressive digital activism, using memes, sentimental appeals, and soft power strategies to promote pro-China narratives. In China especially, cyber-nationalism as a phenomenon emerged in the 1990s, a decade characterised by high levels of economic growth and exports for the state. The movement was led largely by Chinese youth, and would initially take place over chatrooms, websites, etc., eventually progressing to social media and internet forums. While most ‘movements’ for cyber-nationalism in China were sponsored by the Chinese government, nationalism in the style of Little Pink seems to have grown as a phenomenon from the grassroots. They criticise the government, civil society organisations, individual political activists, vocal citizens, etc. over media fora as and when they feel they are going against Chinese ideals or not taking a pro-China stance. This makes them a powerful covert weapon in the hands of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) at times, but one that would be quick to turn on them in case of a misstep. This leaves civilian cyber-nationalist movements like Little Pink in a grey area that remains largely unexplored in the digital age.

Little Pink, in particular, emerged around 2015 in the wake of the increasing rift between Taiwan and mainland China. In 2016, after the Taiwan national elections, which saw the triumph of a candidate who favoured Taiwanese independence from China, Little Pink appeared in the spotlight for spearheading a “cross-strait meme war”, flooding the Internet with memes and graphics protesting Taiwan’s independence. Their means for their nationalist cause are not weapons or powerful speeches to inspire the masses; rather, they resort to traditionally ‘feminine’ wiles: subordination, penetration and insult. The reason for that is evident – Little Pink is a group primarily led by young quasi-liberal Chinese women from Tier 3 or 4 cities, who tend to adopt an aggressively gendered discourse in the course of their nationalistic pursuits.

Why Study Little Pink?

Since cyber-nationalism is a relatively new phenomenon, it has not yet become a subject of much academic research and discourse. Nationalist movements in the traditional sense have been given a good deal of scholarly attention and media coverage. However, cyber-nationalism, arguably the thing that fuels nationalistic action in the modern age, has not been analysed and examined to the extent that it should be. When most other movements aimed at digital activism –  most notably Google’s 2013 legal battle with the Chinese Communist Party have fizzled out, what is it about Little Pink that has made it relevant in the Chinese new media landscape for nearly 10 years now? 

This issue brief examine the phenomenon of Little Pink, its history, context and the circumstances surrounding its rise to popularity. This will help to establish how movements like Little Pink figure into the Chinese new media landscape, particularly considering the strict regime of state censorship that operates all over the country. 

Where It All Began: The Origins of Little Pink

Out-of-the-box expressions of nationalistic sentiment are not new. As times have evolved, various factions have used new and innovative approaches to spread their nationalistic messages and ideologies to the masses. The same logic extends to cyber-nationalism as well: as mass communication methodology has increasingly begun to move online, agents of nationalism have begun to use online spaces to gain an unprecedented reach for their ideas and messages.

In China particularly, agents paid by the administration are known to fiercely guard the state and its name against any hint of criticism, both internal and external. A noteworthy example is the 50-Cent Gang, a group of Internet commentators who get paid to praise and defend the Chinese government. However, Little Pink differs here in that they are, at least from common knowledge, not paid by any party with vested interests. They seem to be simply a group of jingoistic and highly charged young Chinese individuals who wish to rebuild the image of their country.

Cyber-nationalist movements in China, while rare, often owe their origin to chatrooms, discussion forums and other similar forums. As mainstream social media like X (formerly Twitter), Facebook, Instagram, etc. are banned in China, such alternate forums like Weibo and WeChat become platforms for users to connect, interact and mobilise on issues of common concern. Little Pink is believed to have sprung from a discussion forum on the popular Chinese website, Jinjiang Literature City. The pink-coloured background of that forum is arguably what gave the Little Pink their name. However, the forum was intended for discussions of romance novels by avid readers, and largely discouraged nationalism and political involvement. So, a group of users who would later constitute the Little Pink left Jinjiang to form their own online forum, the Fengyi Meishi Lutan.

They soon caught the attention of the wider public with their aggressive and fierce digital defence of everything about China. The nationalistic tones of the group were quickly picked up by liberal social media users like Weibo columnist Daguguguji, who took issue with the framing of narratives by the group. He mockingly called them ‘Little Pink’, erroneously referring to the Jinjiang website which the group no longer uses. Initially, the term ‘Little Pink’ was used to refer to young female Jinjiang users obsessed with romance novels, but has eventually come to be associated with the modern cyber-nationalistic youth the world knows them as today.

Specifically in the context of China, the role of youth subcultures is central to the rise of social movements such as Little Pink. A youth subculture is typically understood as a social group that “share[s] a common identity, lifestyle, and ideology that sets [it] apart from mainstream society.” Members of these groups often connect with each other on the basis of common interests or ideologies. Popular Chinese youth subcultures include ACGN (Anime, Comics, Games and Novels), Cyberpunk, Hanfu, Tuwei, etc. Due to Little Pink’s origin in discussion forums for romance novels (especially Boys’ Love, or BL, novels and telenovelas), it can be said that the ACGN subculture has influenced it greatly. Jinjiang itself provides a platform where users discuss existing media and even publish their own works. In fact, some of the highest-rated content on Chinese television and movie screens was originally posted to Jinjiang. A platform with such a wide reach and high level of influence would certainly be an effective launching-off point for the movement that was later to become Little Pink.

However, as mentioned previously, the incident that shone a spotlight on the activities of the Little Pink was the 2016 Taiwanese elections. The Democratic Progressive Party candidate Tsai Ing-wen won, becoming Taiwan’s first female President – and pro-independence sentiment ran high throughout her campaign. After her victory on 20 January 2016, Little Pink users flooded the internet with memes and graphics opposing Taiwan’s independence, but the content was quite the opposite of traditional opposition and revolutionary content. Instead, they used a “softer, emotion-invoking discursive approach.” They posted a barrage of graphics, memes and slogans that depicted Taiwan and mainland China as one, showcasing beautiful Chinese scenery and delicious food. The ‘war’ took place mostly over Facebook – which is notably banned in China – and lasted 2 days, catapulting Little Pink into the national spotlight for their innovative methods and aggressive consistency. Several among the participants in the meme war were overseas Chinese students (hence the abundant usage of Facebook), while others used Virtual Private Networks (VPNs) to access banned sites.

Another issue that the Little Pink have zeroed in on over the years since their rise to prominence includes the casting of Taiwanese actor Leon Dai for director Vicky Zhao Wei’s film No Other Love in 2017. Dai is a supporter of Taiwanese independence, and Little Pink users alleged that he backed a protest against a free-trade deal with China a few years before the announcement. The Little Pink also staunchly supported protests in 2016 over the US apparently stoking tensions with China over the South China Sea dispute. Additionally, they heavily criticised Australian swimmer Mike Horton when he accused his Chinese opponent, Sun Yang, of being a ‘drug cheat’ and bombarded his social media with vicious posts and comments.

The common pattern seems to be that any action by anyone, online or offline, Chinese or foreign, that gives even a hint of anti-China sentiment or threatens to ‘tarnish China’s image’ is flooded with comments, posts and memes opposing their actions and demanding apologies. 

The Little Pink Footprint: Characteristics of Little Pink Content

As previously mentioned, the tactics of the Little Pink are not rousing speeches or massive public demonstrations. Theirs is an undercurrent of ‘seductive’ discourse, consisting of online persuasive tactics, appeal to emotional sensibilities, calls to boycott seemingly offensive foreign corporations, etc. The content of their posts itself is of note here. During the cross-strait meme war in 2016, for instance, posts provoking emotional and nationalistic reactions became a common sight. A 2016 post on Facebook, for instance, uses a typical Little-Pink-esque technique to appeal to the reader to think of Taiwan as an integral part of China: “We are all yellow skin, black eyes, speak Chinese, flowing with the blood of the dragon [...]. We belong to the Chinese nation, we are Chinese.” Patriotic song lyrics and poetry were also frequently posted, such as Taiwanese poet Yu Guangzhong’s xiangchou (nostalgia) and the popular song You and Me. Such dramatised, emotional posts are one way in which Little Pink attempts to persuade by appealing to readers’ internal sense of Chinese nationalism.

In Chinese cyberspace, it is very common for online fan groups to engage in intense and vicious debates with one another, and Little Pink seems to be an extension of the same culture into the larger nationalistic discourse. Their digital footprint seems to follow a similar trend. They follow similar patterns of establishing organisation and operation plans, formulating a collective identity, etc. in their online presence.

The other aspect of note with regard to the Little Pink is the sheer size and volume of their digital footprint. When Australian swimmer Mike Horton called his Chinese opponent Sun Yang a ‘drug cheat’, his social media accounts, as well as those of his fans and supporters, were inundated with oppositionary comments from Little Pink users. After the US’s alleged escalation of tensions with China over the South China Sea dispute, Little Pink bombarded the accounts of ‘anti-China’ individuals and entities online, releasing approximately 13.1 million posts on social media, with hundreds more comments under these posts. This speaks to the massive level of participation in the activities of Little Pink, and the size of the social media bombardment that is considered typical of them as a group. Furthermore, the barrage of posts is highly coordinated and synchronised among groups and users; allegedly, the admins of Little Pink discussion forums allotted mutually-agreed-upon time slots for posts and media platforms: the time from 7 to 7:30 pm on 20 January 2016 was allotted for the bombardment of posts on Facebook, for instance, before moving to President-elect Tsai Ing-wen’s Twitter account.

Another significant aspect of Little Pink's content is their overt display of friendliness when they begin their bombardment. To take examples from the 2016 meme war, posts on Facebook and Instagram featured lists of beautiful Chinese tourist spots, food, etc., as ‘offerings’ to Taiwanese citizens should they wish to fully assimilate into China. Some even addressed President-elect Tsai Ing-wen directly, describing to her the beauties of Chinese food, culture, places, etc. It is also this very characteristic that leads people to the assumption that Little Pink users are largely girls and women, as such tactics are commonly associated with femininity.

Sometimes, however, the posts do get vicious and aggressive, such as in the case of the Australian swimmer Mike Horton. Even in the 2016 meme war, there were many posts abusing and critiquing Tsai Ing-Wen, her aides and pro-independence Taiwanese citizens, calling them brainwashed, living on stolen land, etc. One post on Facebook even proclaimed the Taiwanese citizens “frogs at the bottom of a well” (jingdi zhi wa in Mandarin). In another instance, the Little Pink called for a boycott of French cosmetics company Lancôme after they enlisted Denise Ho, a Hong Kong-based singer allegedly in support of independence for the territory. The onslaught was so vicious and large that the company eventually dropped Ho from their campaign.

How Little Pink Interacts with the State and Mainstream Media

The Little Pink, as far as the current knowledge base goes, is not organised by Chinese state authorities or sponsored by them for their activities. This makes them a double-edged sword in the hands of the Chinese administration. So far, the actions of the Little Pink have been in support of the state, ‘good’ Chinese citizens and China’s pursuit of its superpower ambitions on the global stage. In fact, they have aggressively risen to the defence of the Chinese government when they were being viewed critically by another state or group of citizens. However, because they are not paid agents, and operate based on their ideal vision for the Chinese state, they are highly unpredictable assets in the hands of the government. Their loyalty to the government is not guaranteed: if the government does something that goes against the Little Pink users’ idealistic vision for the state, they can turn against it as fast as they rise to defend it.

For now, since the Little Pink is in support of state activities, they have been lauded and appreciated by the state for their fierce defence of Chinese principles and actions. The People’s Daily and Global Times, two news outlets controlled by the Chinese Communist Party, have praised the actions of the Little Pink, with one People’s Daily article saying, “Those who were born in the 1990s, we trust you. China is embracing the new generation, who stride with confidence and act freely and without restraints.” For state-run media so far, the Little Pink is seen as the young crusading for the values of Chinese nationalism the Party has fostered and enabled. Furthermore, the state has given formal recognition to this group and urges them to use the term ‘Little Pink’ as a badge of honour. The Communist Youth League, too, has conferred them with the title of “female nationalists”, calling them “our daughters, our sisters, girls we had crushes on.” This adds another layer of complexity for the dynamic and otherwise tightly controlled Chinese media landscape, where civilian-led cyber-nationalism is given full recognition by the government.

The Little Pink’s aggression has been targeted towards liberal Chinese citizens, or those the users feel are not living up to their role as model Chinese citizens, such as supporters of Taiwanese independence, advocates of ‘Westernised’ principles, etc. Hence, their interaction with the state and state-controlled media so far has been limited to support for state activities. Nonetheless, it is important to note that the Little Pink are still highly unpredictable. Since very little is known about their ways of organisation, their leadership, the presence or absence of ulterior motives in their actions, it is difficult to come to a generalisation about their response to the state and state media. While the relationship between the two elements of the Chinese state has been amicable for now, there is no telling where it will go as time passes and the group grows further. 

The Way Ahead for Little Pink

As time has passed, the Little Pink have acted to prove that they are far from a temporary phenomenon in the Chinese media landscape. The people that largely constitute the Little Pink – young women, university students, etc. – use these forums as a way to express their nationalistic sentiments and protest against people and things that they think are contrary to Chinese values. This is not likely to go away anytime soon.

The Little Pink find themselves at the peculiar juncture between social media activism and nationalism in the Chinese media. Hence, they occupy a fairly unique space in the realm of Chinese new media. While some have dubbed it the “next Red Guard”, some are less optimistic about its prospects moving forward, as movements like these have fizzled out over time elsewhere. Their outbursts over social media have become more frequent with time, pointing to the rising trend of cyber-nationalist movements world over, even in restrictive media environments such as that of China.

Even as the Little Pink adhere to their traditional ‘seductive’ and humorous technique in their posts, there are fears that they may turn into a more aggressive and violent group, like the Red Guard of the 1950s, in the digital space. While the group has not engaged in any offline demonstrations collectively so far, the impulsive and erratic nature of the group makes it difficult to predict where it will head next. Cyber-nationalism around the world, but particularly in China, is still a very new phenomenon, and so we must wait to examine the course that it will take. We must refrain from arriving at overly optimistic or doomsaying conclusions about what it means for China’s internal media environment as well as its position on the global stage. Nonetheless, it remains an undeniable fact that the Little Pink is certainly not to be ignored in the social media nationalism sphere moving forward: they have established themselves as a group to be taken seriously in the course of cyber-nationalism and shaping public opinion in the future. 

Image Source: AFP