In a recent interview that has gone viral, Victor Gao, a former translator for Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping and the current vice president of the Center for China and Globalization, laid bare the disturbing incoherence and moral bankruptcy of China’s propaganda machine. The interview, hosted by Mehdi Hasan at Conway Hall in London, was meant to offer insights into China’s foreign policy, but instead, it exposed the glaring contradictions and authoritarian mindset that underpin Beijing’s global strategy.
Gao’s performance during the interview was nothing short of a trainwreck, with his responses swinging between evasiveness and outright absurdity. When questioned about the estimated 500,000 Uyghurs detained in Xinjiang’s concentration camps, Gao dismissed the figure, claiming, “That number is incorrect.” Yet, when pressed further, he admitted that he didn’t know the actual number. How can one be so certain about the inaccuracy of a figure without having any knowledge of the real situation? Gao’s refusal to acknowledge the atrocities in Xinjiang is emblematic of the Chinese government’s strategy: deny, deflect, and deceive.
The interview became even more farcical when Gao claimed, “There’s no dictatorship in China.” This bold assertion was immediately countered by Hasan, who pointed out that Xi Jinping’s name is the only one on the ballot in Chinese elections. Gao’s feeble defense was to compare this to the British monarchy, suggesting that just as Charles inherited the throne, Xi’s uncontested rule is somehow acceptable. The false equivalence between a ceremonial monarchy and an authoritarian regime that suppresses dissent and silences opposition is not just intellectually dishonest; it is an insult to the intelligence of the audience.
One of the most telling moments of the interview came when Gao was asked about the mysterious disappearance of former Chinese Foreign Minister Qin Gang. Gao’s response was chilling: “You will never see him again,” followed by an unsettling admission that he is “happy when they disappear.” This macabre satisfaction with the disappearance of political figures reflects the ruthless nature of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), where loyalty to the regime is paramount, and those who falter are swiftly erased.
Gao’s responses were equally troubling when the conversation turned to Tibet. The representative of His Holiness the Dalai Lama at the Office of Tibet in London, Sonam Frasi, highlighted the ongoing repression in Tibet, where the Chinese government has maintained strict control for over seven decades. Gao’s response was predictably imperialistic: “Tibet has been part of China ever since the Yuan dynasty… Tibet will always be part of China.” This statement is a stark reminder of Beijing’s intransigent stance on Tibet, where acknowledging China’s sovereignty is the non-negotiable price for any dialogue or resolution.
The CCP’s “One China Principle,” which Gao parroted throughout the interview, is nothing more than a diplomatic cudgel wielded to force other nations into submission. By coercing countries to recognize Taiwan, Tibet, and East Turkestan as inalienable parts of China, Beijing has weaponized international relations to further its expansionist agenda. This principle, as enforced by the CCP, is not about maintaining peace or stability but about legitimizing its authoritarian control over occupied territories.
Gao’s bumbling defense of China’s policies is indicative of a regime that, despite its economic and military might, remains deeply insecure. The CCP’s fear of dissent, both domestic and international, drives its draconian measures—from the internment camps in Xinjiang to the suppression of Tibetan identity, to the silencing of critics like Qin Gang. The party’s need to control the narrative is so extreme that it has turned its spokespeople into caricatures of Orwellian doublespeak.
