On Halloween, 22-year-old Wester Yang took to the streets of Toronto dressed as a Chinese emperor with a mask of Xi Jinping’s face. He was joined by a friend who has become one of the scariest characters in China today: the faceless pandemic control workers – nicknamed “dabai” or “big whites” for their all-white uniforms. The duo are among a growing number of mainly Chinese students in BC, Ontario and elsewhere in Canada who are using creative and often hidden ways to express their growing displeasure with China’s relentless policy of zero COVID-19 and the power of the Communist Party under the supreme leader of Mr. Xi. A series of online and offline protests have recently been sparked around the world following a spectacular anti-Xi demonstration in Beijing. On October 13, a lone protester unfurled a banner over Sitong Bridge in the Chinese capital, calling for an end to the COVID-19 restrictions and Mr Xi’s ouster. It was quickly caught, and government censors immediately began blacking out related keywords online, including, for a time, “Beijing.” But that didn’t stop the message from spreading. Soon after, Chinese students at universities around the world began posting the “Bridge Man” demands and making their own leaflets denouncing Mr Xi and the country’s lack of democratic freedoms. Citizens Daily CN, north_square, and several other Instagram accounts share these student-submitted posters. Citizens Daily CN administrators told The Globe and Mail last week via direct message that they have received submissions from 358 universities so far, including the University of Toronto, the University of British Columbia, McGill, Simon University Fraser and a few others across Canada. The Globe is not identifying the people behind the account because many have family in China and worry about retaliation from the government there. In a text interview, they said there were a “handful of people” managing the account. The account’s administrators say they also helped set up Telegram channels for people in London, New York, Toronto, southern California and Australia to safely discuss the protests. The Toronto chat group currently has more than 500 members, including Mr. Yang, who posts to the group. It was not the first time Mr Yang had criticized the regime. Two years ago, the student helped form a group in Toronto called Citizens’ Assembly to launch a protest commemorating whistleblower Li Wenliang, the Wuhan ophthalmologist who warned of the highly contagious nature of the coronavirus before removing his eye. Zoe. Using his organizing experience, Mr. Yang began helping U of T students plan a campus demonstration on Oct. 21, helping them overcome their fears as well as advising them on how to react if young Chinese nationalists showed up. Before the protest began, some of them were “really affected by fears, but the event had a good effect,” Mr. Yang said in a recent interview. “I told them, ‘As you get used to it, you’ll realize it’s not that scary.’ “ The Globe interviewed five other protesters in Canada, most of whom are in their twenties. The Globe is not identifying them because they are concerned about the safety of their families in China. Protesters said they were nervous and scared when putting up posters on university campuses or outside Chinese consulates, and were extremely careful not to be around other Chinese students, lest they be confronted or reported. A student at the University of Manitoba said that while she was planning to post flyers, she saw a student from the school’s Chinese Students and Studies Association ask a local WeChat group for help tracking down a girl who spoke out against China. “It was really scary,” she told The Globe. But she said her fear vanished and she felt empowered when she found other anti-Xi posters on campus. Some of the protesters who spoke to The Globe said they put up posters late at night or even asked their non-Chinese friends to post the messages themselves. A woman asked a non-Chinese classmate to accompany her because, she said, his presence would deter any nearby nationalists from confronting her. None of them were attacked, but they said some of the posters were removed within hours. A 23-year-old Carleton University student said her hands were shaking when she was putting up posters one night around midnight. But she said she smiled as she traveled home, feeling for the first time a sense of strength from the revolt against the regime and rejection of Mr. Xi as its president. All those surveyed said they have been frustrated with the Chinese government for years because of its highly restrictive approach to freedom of expression, its expanding surveillance of its citizens and the deterioration of human rights under Mr. Xi. They said they are pessimistic that change is coming to China, but that won’t stop them from trying. Some of those interviewed by The Globe said they planned to join other political groups and said their movement exposes issues Beijing tries to hide, highlighting voices that are otherwise buried or filtered out. Also, dissidents find ways to connect with each other. “We are not alone,” Mr Young said. “If you take one down, there will be more of us. We are not afraid of you.” Josephine Chiu-Duke, a UBC professor who specializes in Chinese intellectual history, said the student protesters are very brave: If they are tracked down in Canada, then their relatives back home could be invited for a “cup of tea” at Public Safety of their area. Office. Officials there searched them for their political beliefs and pressured them to stop their son or daughter from further agitation abroad, he said. The professor said local Chinese consulates may broadcast messages warning students to stay away from anti-Xi protests, using campus associations, which typically help international students find rent and organize social events. In September 2019, the Association of Chinese Students and Scholars at McMaster University was stripped of club status over allegations that it was a tool of the Chinese government. Earlier that year, the association and several other student groups said they had informed the Chinese consulate in Toronto about a speech, held on campus, highlighting the plight of Uyghur Muslims in Xinjiang. Diana Fu, an associate professor of political science at U of T, said the emergence of a student-led movement so blunt in its criticism of the Chinese Communist Party is surprising. “Chinese students studying abroad are often told by their parents to stay away from politics. Many Chinese students are wary of discussing Chinese politics in the classroom, let alone participating in a social movement that is so unwavering in its criticism of home rule,” he wrote in an e-mail. An underlying cause of this sudden outburst of anger among Chinese Gen Z abroad, he noted, may be the frustrations they could not express publicly for a long time. China’s zero-covid-19 policy not only complicated students’ plans to study and travel abroad, but also resulted in family and friends losing jobs or businesses. Others are upset with the control of their speech on WeChat or Weibo and face censorship fatigue. “These grievances, long hushed up, are being aired,” he said.
