From the Nazis to the CCP: The Bloody Reality Hidden Beneath Ordinary Scenes

Feb 20, 2025

Recently, a foreign travel influencer posted a video on a video-sharing platform. In the footage, she stands on a bustling street in a major Chinese city, with lively restaurants, bustling crowds, and a wide array of dazzling goods in the background.

In the video, she marvels:

The people look happy, right? The Western media says the people are not free in this country; they are forced to work all the time. So can someone explain to me why these people are smiling? Why they’re happy? Why they are enjoying their lives? Maybe the Western media is lying.

The logic behind this statement is: if the people in a country are smiling, life is bustling, and the cities are prosperous, then this must mean the country is free, happy, and without problems. This viewpoint seems intuitive but is extremely superficial. History tells us that a nation’s apparent prosperity and the everyday lives of its citizens do not necessarily prove that they have true freedom.

In 1936, when Nazi Germany hosted the Berlin Olympics, foreign tourists and journalists saw a clean, orderly, and thriving country. They did not see that Jews had been stripped of their citizenship, political dissidents were imprisoned in concentration camps, and the Gestapo was monitoring speech nationwide.

The same is true for China under the CCP today.

If You Walked into Nazi Germany

If you walked into Nazi Germany, you would find a seemingly prosperous and orderly society. The streets were clean, people were well-dressed, factories were humming with activity, and shop windows were filled with goods. People wore smiles, and their lives seemed far better than during the economic depression a decade earlier.

On the streets of Berlin, you would see children playing in newly built parks, men in uniforms listening to Hitler’s speeches in public squares, women pushing baby strollers while discussing the latest national policies. You would hear the radio broadcasting Nazi propaganda, praising Germany’s revival, and glorifying the Führer for saving the nation and restoring people’s pride.

If you asked an ordinary German, “Is your life good?” they would likely answer, “Yes, much better than before!”

But if you asked, “Do you know what happens to Jews, communists, and dissidents?” their expressions might turn grim, they might quickly change the subject, or even become wary—as if you had said something you shouldn’t have.

The reality of Nazi Germany: June 3, 1939, Berlin, people enjoying mild weather at an outdoor café, a moment of calm before World War II. Originally published in "Picture Post" Issue 152—"Berlin in the Sun," 1939. (Photograph by August Darwell)

If you were an ordinary German worker, you would find it easier to get a job than your counterparts in Britain or France.

The government invested heavily in infrastructure projects, such as the construction of the Autobahn (German highway system), providing jobs for thousands of workers. The military industry boomed, and the expansion of the army gave many young people employment and social status. Wages increased, prices remained stable, and social welfare expanded. You could afford a Volkswagen, and perhaps even plan a vacation. Crime rates fell, streets were orderly, and there were no homeless people or beggars—they had all been sent to labor camps or “relocated.”

If you were a German student, your textbooks would be filled with nationalist ideology. Teachers would tell you that Germany had been oppressed by the “unfair Treaty of Versailles” and that the Führer was leading Germany to revival. You would be required to salute Hitler daily, join the Hitler Youth (Hitlerjugend), undergo military training, and learn how to become a future Aryan warrior.

Nazi Germany, 1936, with the National Library on the right and the Brandenburg Gate in the background.

If you were a housewife, you would be encouraged to have more children because Germany needed more “pure Aryans.” The government even rewarded families with multiple children. Your neighbors and friends would talk about how “the Führer has brought us new hope,” and you would feel no different.

To many ordinary Germans, life in Nazi Germany was indeed better than before, seemingly richer and more orderly than in many European countries. But behind it all was a reality they either couldn’t see or refused to acknowledge.

The government claimed that Jews were the enemy of the state, conspiring and manipulating the economy, leading to Germany’s poverty. During the “Kristallnacht” (Night of Broken Glass) in 1938, Jewish shops and synagogues were smashed, and Jews were taken away.

On the streets, you had not seen Jews in a long time. You remembered that, as a child, you had Jewish neighbors who ran shops, clinics, and cafés. But now they were all gone. You heard they had been “sent away,” but you didn’t know where, and you dared not ask. Eventually, you chose to forget, because no one dared to talk about it.

If you were a German factory owner, you might have employed some “prisoners of war” or “laborers” from Eastern Europe. They looked numb, wore ragged clothes, were emaciated, and did the hardest, dirtiest work. You knew they had been forcibly brought in, but you didn’t ask questions—because questioning could bring trouble for yourself.

At the train station, you occasionally saw trains full of Jews, political prisoners, and Roma people slowly heading eastward. You heard they were being “resettled” or sent to “labor camps.” People whispered about their fate, but most remained silent.

You had heard rumors about concentration camps, but official propaganda claimed they were just “re-education facilities” designed to “reintegrate hostile elements into society.” Perhaps you had seen people sent to Dachau or Auschwitz, but you never saw them return. Even if you sometimes felt something was wrong, you chose to immerse yourself in your daily life and quickly pushed those doubts away.

It wasn’t until 1945, when Allied forces entered Germany, occupied Berlin, and liberated Auschwitz and Buchenwald, that tens of thousands of Germans were forced to witness the piles of corpses in the concentration camps. They were shocked, enraged, in denial, and in tears.

The Same Thing Is Happening in China Today

If you walk into China under the CCP today, you will see a country that appears prosperous, peaceful, and orderly.

In major cities like Beijing, Shanghai, and Shenzhen, skyscrapers rise high, subways run smoothly, and shopping malls are packed with people. Young people wear stylish clothes, sip Starbucks coffee, and discuss the latest trends, technology, and movies. The streets are clean, the public security seems excellent—everything appears safer and more stable than in many countries.

When you open your phone and browse Douyin, Xiaohongshu, or Weibo, you find young people discussing the best restaurants, skincare products, and adorable pets. Your WeChat Moments are filled with friends posting vacation photos, children’s report cards, newly bought houses, and cars. You don’t see criticism of the government, discussions about the Tiananmen Square Massacre, the truth about Xinjiang’s concentration camps, the struggles of petitioners, the torture in black jails, or the industry of live organ harvesting—because all of this has been completely erased by information censorship.

If you ask an ordinary Chinese person, “Is your life good?” they will likely answer, “Of course, it’s better than in most countries!”

But if you then ask, “Do you know about the Xinjiang concentration camps?” “Do you know about the Tiananmen Square Massacre?” “Do you know what happens to dissidents and human rights lawyers?” they might frown, glance at you cautiously, and whisper, “We shouldn’t talk about these things.”

If you continue to ask, “Do you know about the struggles of petitioners and wrongful convictions?” they might look confused, unsure of how to respond—because they have never seen any news about these people. Those who are oppressed by abuses of power, intercepted while petitioning, or falsely convicted never appear on TV. Those who fight for their rights are either in prison, under “stability control,” or have “committed suicide.”

They cannot talk about Tiananmen, Falun Gong, or the Xinjiang camps. They might know that human rights lawyers are arrested or that some people disappear for criticizing the government, but they won’t ask further questions. They might have heard of “re-education camps” in Xinjiang, but they choose to believe the government’s explanation: “It’s for national security.”

Ordinary Chinese people, like ordinary Germans under the Nazis, live in a system of information control and social fear, disguised by a seemingly normal daily life.

Outside the National Public Complaints and Proposals Administration in Beijing, petitioners gather in crowds.

If you are a Chinese student, your textbooks contain no mention of Tiananmen, the Cultural Revolution, or the Great Famine. There are no deep discussions on democracy, human rights, or freedom. Your teachers tell you that China is rising and the U.S. is declining. From a young age, you are taught to “love the Party and love the country.” If someone criticizes the government, they must be “influenced by foreign forces.”

On social media platforms like Douyin, Weibo, and Xiaohongshu, all you see are stories of national revival, patriotic slogans, and short videos mocking the chaos of the West. Your feed is flooded with trending topics like “America is collapsing,” “China’s technology leads the world,” “The West envies China’s high-speed rail,” and the algorithm constantly pushes content reinforcing the belief that China’s system is the best in the world.

Every piece of information you receive tells you: “China is soaring, the West is declining, and patriotism is the only correct value.” But have you ever wondered if what you know is truly the whole picture? When you try to look for alternative perspectives, you find that all dissenting voices have been censored. The world you see is the version carefully curated and shaped by the CCP, and you cannot even imagine that other narratives exist.

If you are a Chinese white-collar worker, your living standard may be higher than in many countries. You live in a modern city, commute via high-speed rail and subways, enjoy cashless payments, and have easy access to shopping malls, food delivery, and entertainment. Your job, mortgage, and social circle make life seem peaceful and fulfilling.

On the surface, the internet is full of information, but deep down, you know that many “sensitive words” will prevent your comments from being posted. You know which topics should not be discussed, which words should not be said, or your account might be banned, and you might even get a visit from the authorities. You have already become accustomed to “not discussing politics” and avoiding sensitive topics. Occasionally, you might see someone posting about their grievances—telling stories of forced demolitions, coerced confessions, or missing loved ones. You feel anger and discomfort, but before long, those posts are deleted, the topics vanish, and it’s as if nothing ever happened.

At first, you might discuss these issues in whispers with friends. But over time, as the news cycle moves on, life continues, and you gradually stop thinking about it—until the next similar event occurs, repeating the cycle. You know something is wrong, but you also know that as long as you stay silent, your life can continue. So you choose to forget, adapt, and comply—just like everyone else around you.

If you are a Chinese doctor, your life appears respectable, but you know that the healthcare system is not purely about saving lives.

You are aware that Chinese hospitals have a secret organ transplant industry. Normally, a patient might wait years for a suitable donor, but in China, the wait can be as short as a few days. You have heard about certain surgeries where the donors were not voluntary but came from “special channels.” Sometimes, you wonder: Who are these organ “donors”? Where did they come from? Were they once alive? But you never ask—because the more you ask, the more dangerous it becomes.

You know that organ harvesting from Falun Gong practitioners, Uyghurs, and other groups is no longer a secret, but no one dares to discuss it openly. You have heard of doctors who tried to expose the truth and suddenly “disappeared” or were “suicided.” You tell yourself that your duty is simply to treat patients, and the source of the organs is beyond your control.

Can a Peaceful Daily Life Prove Freedom?

Smiling faces on the streets, bustling restaurants, and a variety of consumer goods—do these prove that a country is free from oppression? If we judge history and reality by such logic, we make a grave mistake in understanding the truth.

Nazi Germany had thriving commercial districts where people drank beer and enjoyed government-provided social welfare. Yet, at the same time, Jews, communists, journalists, and disabled individuals were being systematically persecuted, sent to concentration camps, and ultimately perished in gas chambers. The happiness of ordinary Germans did not change the crimes of the Nazis—it only concealed the ongoing genocide.

In the 1950s, Moscow’s Red Square was full of people strolling, and Soviet economic reports boasted of “full employment and abundant resources.” Meanwhile, millions of Gulag prisoners were forced into labor in the freezing wastelands of Siberia, and thousands of political dissidents were sent to labor camps for simply writing a letter or saying the wrong thing. The laughter in the streets did not mean Soviet citizens were free.

Today, Shanghai, Shenzhen, and Beijing have towering skyscrapers, crowded shopping centers, and social media platforms full of young people sharing their consumer experiences. Yet, on the other side of this prosperity:

• Uyghurs are being brainwashed and forced into labor in Xinjiang’s concentration camps.
• Petitioners, dissidents, journalists, and human rights lawyers are under house arrest, tortured, or “suicided.”

Most Chinese people are unaware of the reality of the Xinjiang camps because the government has completely blocked access to information. Young people don’t know about the Tiananmen Square Massacre because every textbook and social media platform prohibits mentioning it. When you don’t know the truth, you don’t feel anger, and you have no motivation to resist. Ignorance is not freedom—it is an illusion deliberately created.

The illusion of happiness does not prove freedom. Instead, it is the most effective disguise of a totalitarian regime. The world must open its eyes and not be deceived by the illusion of prosperity.