It was reported on May 25 that Zhang Weiwei (張維為), a professor of international relations at Shanghai’s Fudan University and director of its China Institute, in a speech at Wuhan University in China said that “after unification with China, it would be easier to govern Taiwan than Hong Kong.”
Zhang also said that with the prevalence of social media such as Instagram Reels and Chinese app Xiaohongshu (小紅書, or Rednote) is rapidly infiltrating the younger generation in Taiwan. Moreover, the pro-Chinese Communist Party (CCP) language and narratives on these social media would “pave the way for eventual unification,” Zhang said.
Zhang’s comments were not based on personal rhetoric, they are based on the concrete result of the CCP’s discursive engineering, which has been penetrating Taiwanese society. When the CCP repeatedly uses terms such as “the reunification of the motherland,” “the Taiwan issue” and “peaceful liberation” in international settings, it is not just engaging in diplomatic propaganda, it is conducting silent cognitive warfare and a campaign of linguistic infiltration. The goal is not to make the other party believe its discourse; it is to make them adopt and use its terminology.
When we uncritically accept politically packaged phrases such as “mainland China,” “since the 1949 founding of the communist state,” “motherland,” “rule of law,” or “Hong Kong people governing Hong Kong,” our cognitive structure is being subtly transformed without us even realizing it.
The People’s Republic of China’s language system functions as a comprehensive tool of ideological control, reflecting the CCP’s exceptional skill in linguistic manipulation. Rather than presenting objective facts, the CCP rewrites reality, engaging in historical revisionism through deliberate language engineering.
Its narrative strategy rests on three core pillars: obscuring historical truth by framing its rise as the “legitimate regime” rather than a “seizure of power,” blurring historical facts such as the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 and how it overthrew the Republic of China; shaping public perception by promoting euphemistic terms such as “maintaining stability” in place of “repression”; and distorting universal concepts such as “human rights” and the “rule of law” by redefining them within the CCP’s ideological framework, thus creating confusion over their true meaning in international discourse.
This systematic linguistic engineering has taken root in Taiwan through long-term diffusion via social media, academia, the media, short-form videos and cultural output. Notably, the impact is especially pronounced among the younger generation, whose habitual language use and cognitive structures are more susceptible to such influence.
The CCP’s language distortion poses systemic threats to Taiwan’s national security. To counter this, the government must develop a foundational defense mechanism to safeguard linguistic integrity and democratic awareness.
Here are four policy recommendations:
First, the government should compile and publish a “language distortion list,” identifying commonly used CCP terms and providing accurate, contextual explanations. This list should be widely distributed across government institutions, media, educational systems and civil society groups. Examples include replacing terms such as “Taiwan reunification,” “embrace of the motherland,” “rule of law,” and “since the 1949 founding of the communist state” with fact-based interpretations that expose their propagandistic nature.
Secondly, it should strengthen linguistic awareness in education. This would include introducing a language defense mechanism in the civics and media literacy curriculum, emphasizing the connection between language, power and political narratives. Students should be trained to critically analyze terminology and narrative structures used in CCP discourse, developing the skills to detect and resist ideological infiltration.
Thirdly, it should standardize official language used across government agencies. Ministries such as foreign affairs, education, culture and national defense should adopt a unified terminology framework when referring to the People’s Republic of China and the CCP. For example, using “CCP regime” or “areas under CCP jurisdiction” instead of “mainland China”; differentiate between “People’s Republic of China” and “China” to reflect political nuance; replacing “since the founding of the state” with “since the founding of the Chinese communist regime”; and substituting “reunification” with more accurate terms such as “annexation” or “invasion of Taiwan.”
Finally, it should empower civil society to facilitate a “language destructuring movement,” encouraging and supporting think tanks, content creators, YouTubers, designers and authors to develop and promote Taiwan’s own narrative structures and linguistic frameworks. This linguistic resilience movement would serve as a long-term counter to CCP propaganda by reinforcing locally rooted expressions based on democratic values, acting as the cultural line of defense.
If we manage to safeguard our language, we can safeguard Taiwan. Language forms the fundamental awareness of nationalism and also marks the boundaries of sovereign thought. If we continue to use vocabulary and logic defined by the CCP, Taiwan would ultimately and unknowingly lose the ability to define itself.
It is essential to reawaken the understanding that the words that we choose reflect the political forces we align with; the grammar we adopt reveals the logic we internalize. For Taiwan to sustain its democratic and cultural subjectivity, the defense cannot rely solely on military strength or diplomatic engagement; it must begin at the frontline of linguistic awareness.
I therefore call upon all government agencies, legislators and citizens from all walks of life to actively confront the reality of linguistic warfare. We must establish a language defense mechanism to prevent the silent erosion of our discursive sovereignty. Such a mechanism is not only a matter of discursive justice — it is a matter of national security.
Yu Ming is a registered architect.
Translated by Jiang Wen-qing
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