As China ramped up its security in Bejing ahead of its largest military parade in history, over in Chongqing, a city of 30 million people, slogans mysteriously appeared projected on the walls of a university residential complex. “Only without the Communist Party can there be a new China,” read one. “Freedom is not given but seized,” said another. A third urged: “Down with red fascism, overthrow Communist tyranny.” When the police finally tracked down the source of these projections to a hotel room nearby, they found it empty apart from a projector and remotely controlled cameras which captured their confusion at the puzzling scene. This footage was uploaded on to X along with the slogans projected on the university building walls. News of the incident was quickly shared on social media. @whyyoutouzhele via X The man behind this coup de théâtre – Qi Hong, a 43-year-old Chongqing native – had already left the country with his family for a “holiday” in the UK, from where he operated the projector and cameras remotely. Within six days, the posts had been viewed more than 19 million times.This striking act of defiance points to the fact that dissenting voices – given sufficient ingenuity and determination – are still able to penetrate China’s formidable surveillance state. Furthermore, it may signal that there are significant subterranean levels of opposition to the country’s leadership under Xi Jinping.China’s embrace of digital technologies has always presented it with a dilemma: how to exercise control over this inherently expansive and unruly – yet economically indispensable – communications sphere. As the online world became the most important platform for change in China, giving rise to pro-democracy initiatives, environmental NGOs, human rights defenders and grassroots opposition, the state’s response has essentially remained the same. Predisposed to top-down control throughout Communist Party history in order to maintain its grip on power, the Chinese state has never been capable of imagining political solutions. Rather, it has consistently fallen back on deploying technology in the suppression of opposing voices.Hence the Great Firewall of China (also known as the Golden Shield), launched in the late 1990s, which combined censorship with multi-layered online monitoring. This was followed by Skynet, a mass video surveillance system introduced in 2005.These technologies – later upgraded with big data, AI, facial recognition and cloud computing – were presented as tools against crime and foreign threats. But they have also been widely criticised, both inside and outside China, for silencing dissent and restricting press freedom.By 2024, China had installed more than 600 million cameras – roughly one for every two adults – making it the largest video surveillance system in the world.While some devices are used for urban management, Wall Street Journal reporters Liza Lin and Josh Chin have shown how the party-state increasingly harnesses surveillance for social control – often in harsh and coercive ways. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, lockdown policies borrowed from Xinjiang’s system of Uyghur surveillance were implemented nationwide under the banner of “Zero Covid”.While this massive deployment of surveillance has been superficially effective in inhibiting overt demonstrations of opposition, it has also blocked any movement towards addressing political solutions to China’s fundamental internal problems: an over-centralised economy, stalling productivity, widespread corruption and the challenges of an ageing population. Meanwhile, new forms of dissent have emerged within this surveillance state.Audacious dissentIn October 2022, on the eve the confirmation of President Xi’s historic third term, a Chinese physicist named Peng Lifa staged a dramatic solo protest. From a busy Beijing bridge, he hung two banners: one demanded food, reform, freedom and elections instead of lockdowns and lies; the other called for boycotts and the removal of Xi himself. Peng was swiftly detained and has not been seen since – but images of his banners went viral on Chinese social media and internationally.Many China-watchers believe this protest inspired its “White Paper” movement in November 2022, when youth-led demonstrations erupted across the country and overseas. Initially focused on ending zero-COVID policies, many protesters also demanded democracy, equality under the law and Xi’s resignation.Peng was dubbed “Bridge Man” – evoking the “Tank Man” of China’s 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown – and the White Paper protests have been described as the most significant movement since Tiananmen. The almost-foolhardy audacity of Peng’s dissent has been referred to as “storming the tower” – a term from gaming culture which describes acts of bold defiance despite enormous risks.Qi Hong’s recent protest can also be viewed in this way. Although he successfully deployed technology to avoid arrest, the price of his protest is likely to be his self-imposed exile and the constant fear of the retributive reach of the Chinese state.In a recent interview, Qi acknowledged his protest had been directly inspired by Peng and the White Paper movement. His actions, he said, arose from deep frustration and a desire for truth, critical thinking and freedom of expression – values he felt had been denied to him and his children by China’s party-state.Qi said he felt compelled to express his view, and to urge more Chinese people to recognise what he described as the brutality and irrationality of the Communist Party’s rule.Institutional contradictionsEpisodes like the Chongqing projections reveal deep contradictions within the Chinese state. On one hand, decades of economic reform have produced a sizeable middle class with global exposure, higher education and expectations of autonomy. On the other, the Communist Party routinely tightens its monopoly on power, leaving little room for pluralism or independent civic life. As philosopher Ci Jiwei – a professor at the University of Hong Kong – has argued, the issue is not simply the lack of everyday “practical freedoms”. Many Chinese enjoy wide latitude in their personal and economic lives.Rather, it is the denial of freedom itself as a legitimate value by the state. Protesting Chinese citizens are not seeking adjustments to policy, but rather the recognition of their right to question, debate and express dissent.Qi’s slogans appear to have resonated because they articulated grievances shared by many people in China – even if voiced only fleetingly. Slowing economic growth, rising youth unemployment and increasing perceptions of inequality sharpen these frustrations. No amount of technological monitoring or punitive threats can make these problems go away.Tao Zhang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.