When Identity Clouds Truth
Why some Asian-Americans are echoing pro-CCP rhetoric and how identity, media, and fear are reshaping political discourse online.
What We Choose to Defend Reflects Who We Think We Are
Not long ago, I began noticing a troubling pattern. Each time a China-related issue was discussed online, whether it involved surveillance, censorship, trade, or military policy, a chorus of voices appeared in the comments, often claiming an Asian-American identity. Fluent, articulate, and seemingly well-informed, they pushed back aggressively against any criticism of China’s government. At first glance, it seemed like they were simply defending cultural heritage from what they perceived as unfair generalizations, but something felt off.
The more I read, the more these arguments sounded less like grassroots opinion and more like curated messaging rhetoric echoing the tone and language of Chinese state media. These were unflinching defences of the Chinese Communist Party’s policies, including those involving human rights abuses, censorship, and territorial disputes.
What struck me was not just the content of these arguments but the confidence with which they were made by people who had never lived in China under CCP rule. Many had grown up in the United States, enjoyed Western freedoms, and were educated in democratic institutions. Nonetheless, they had internalized and now repeated the official positions of a government that systematically restricts the very freedoms they benefit from. I began to ask myself: what’s behind this growing phenomenon?
The Shifting Ground Beneath Identity and Belief
To understand what’s happening, we must first acknowledge that identity is fragile, and often shaped as much by outside pressure as by internal conviction. For Asian-Americans, especially those of Chinese, Hong Kong, or Taiwanese descent, identity is often forged in a crucible of racism, misunderstanding, and political projection in the West. Whether it’s surveillance of Chinese students, political scapegoating in Washington, or the rise in anti-Asian hate crimes, many have felt alienated by the very country they call home.
In this vacuum of trust, some Asian-Americans have turned their gaze elsewhere, towards a rising China that seems more confident, powerful, and assertive on the world stage. They see a nation investing in infrastructure, showcasing technological breakthroughs, and resisting what they perceive as Western hypocrisy. To those disillusioned by Western treatment, China represents not a homeland but a symbol of resilience.
However, admiration, when not tempered by nuance or lived experience, can harden into blind loyalty. I’ve seen it up close in my own family. My father, a Taiwanese immigrant, once spoke of China with deep skepticism, describing it as corrupt, poor, and untrustworthy. Sadly, in recent years, he has spoken in admiration of China’s achievements and increasingly echoes state narratives.
What changed? Not his direct experience, he has never lived in mainland China. What changed is the content of his media consumption. He now receives a steady stream of short, polished videos on platforms like YouTube and Facebook, often shared by friends or family, glorifying China’s latest innovation or infrastructure marvel. These clips present progress without complication, pride without critique.
Propaganda in Diaspora Media
It’s important to recognize that many Chinese-Americans, especially those who consume Chinese-language content, are vulnerable to the same forces of propaganda that affect domestic audiences in China. Chinese state media operates beyond borders. From YouTube to TikTok to private chat groups, it actively circulates curated messages that elevate China’s global status while painting the West as decadent, chaotic, or hypocritical.
In the same way Western media sometimes reflects its own biases and assumptions, Chinese-language media, whether in Asia or overseas communities, often carries ideological baggage. What’s different now is how much more targeted and effective this propaganda has become. It doesn’t just glorify the Communist Party; it also taps into the emotional pain points of diaspora communities, racism, exclusion, and generational insecurities, and offers China as a source of validation.
When Identity Becomes a Weapon
The problem arises when pride in identity crosses into denial of complexity. In these online spaces, it’s become increasingly common to see Asian-Americans, often self-identifying as Chinese or Chinese-adjacent, dismiss any critique of the CCP as racist or Western propaganda. They don’t want a discussion; they want affirmation.
This is deeply counterproductive. It collapses meaningful debate into identity politics and reduces complex geopolitical issues to tribal loyalty. Worse, it treats criticism of a government as an attack on the people, a sleight of hand that benefits authoritarian regimes far more than democratic dialogue.
In doing so, these voices often erase or silence dissenting Chinese voices, those who have lived under CCP rule, those who have fled persecution, and those who continue to advocate for freedom of speech, press, and religion. For them, speaking out is a risk, not a performance.
The rise of pro-CCP sentiment among some Asian-Americans is not simply a sign of ideological confusion or political naivete. It’s also a symptom of broader disillusionment, media influence, and unresolved identity conflict.
It’s easy to dismiss these trends as fringe or unimportant, but we do so at our peril. When authoritarian messaging is echoed by citizens of free societies, especially in countries like the United States or Canada, it corrodes the very fabric of public discourse. It creates an environment where bad-faith arguments thrive, where disagreement is interpreted as betrayal, and where critical thought is sacrificed for emotional allegiance.
What We Can Do Next
If we want to push back against this growing trend, we have to start by making space for difficult conversations. That includes acknowledging America’s failings, especially its treatment of immigrants and minorities, without excusing the abuses of authoritarian regimes. It also means urging those in our communities to consume a broader range of perspectives, especially those grounded in fact and lived experience rather than social media praise.
We need to talk to our families, especially our elders. We need to ask questions, not as a challenge but as a gesture of care. Where did this video come from? Who made it? Why does it only show one side of the story?
Above all, we need to resist the urge to reduce politics to a performance of identity. We can honour our heritage without defending repression. We can celebrate progress without erasing harm. We can be proud of who we are without becoming tools in someone else’s narrative.
If this resonates with you, I invite you to share it with a friend or family member. You can also subscribe, leave a comment, or buy me a coffee. Let’s keep asking better questions, together.
https://kellydwills55.substack.com/p/the-pot-calling-the-kettle-black?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=r5v2