The Net Delusion - Evgeny Morozov [79]
It’s not so hard to discern what it is that governments are trying to achieve by flooding blogs and social networks with artificially engineered content. In most cases, the goal is to create an impression that moderate, pro-democracy, pro-Western positions are less popular with “netizens” than they are in reality, while also trying to convert more “undecided” citizens to their causes. At a certain point, economies of scale begin to kick in: The presence of paid commentators may significantly boost the number of genuine supporters of the regime, and the new converts can now do some proselytizing on their own, without ever asking for their fifty cents.
Thus, all the government has to do is to “seed” a pro-government movement at some early stage—inject it with the right ideology and talking points and perhaps some money—and quietly withdraw into the background. All the heavy lifting can then be done by actual ideologically committed proponents of a given political system (of which, unfortunately, there are plenty, even in the most brutal regimes).
Darning Mao’s Socks, One SMS at a Time
Modern propaganda does not discriminate between platforms, easily penetrating text messages, computer games, blog posts, and, most recently, ringback tones. In 2009 millions of customers of the state-controlled China Mobile, who perhaps were not feeling patriotic enough on the country’s National Day, woke up to discover that the company replaced their usual ringback tone with a patriotic tune sang by the popular actor Jackie Chan and a female actress. Just like their Russian counterparts, Chinese propagandists have embraced media diversity and love to package their messages in more than one platform, as perhaps the only way to secure exposure to the younger audiences that are hard to reach with traditional media. China’s is the kind of communism that doesn’t mind imbibing the worst advertising excesses of its capitalist adversaries; the excesses, in fact, allow it to keep on going. These days even the website of China’s Defense Ministry has a section with music downloads; one can enjoy jingoistic music all one wants.
It’s through innovative platforms like computer games that even old and seemingly obsolete messages can find a new life. Two Chinese games, Learn from Lei Feng and Incorruptible Warrior, show that creativity, hedonism, and gaming do not always have to part ways with authoritarianism. (The provenance of such games is not always clear; some are funded by the government, some are merely subsidized, and some are produced by the private sector in hopes to curry favor with the government.)
The protagonist of Learn from Lei Feng, a brave but plain soldier in the People’s Liberation Army who died on duty at the tender age of twenty-two, is a real and much venerated character in the history of communist China. Chairman Mao seized on his life story for its immense propaganda value, commemorating Lei Feng on book covers, posters, and stamps. In keeping with the spirit of the original story, the protagonist of Learn from Lei Feng has simple but Party-strengthening tasks to accomplish: darn socks, volunteer on building sites, and fight enemy agents. And in case his health is running low, the Party secretary is always there to help. The sock-darning quest is clearly worth it: Lei Feng’s ultimate reward is a pile of Chairman Mao’s collected works.
Those playing Incorruptible Warrior have a more ambitious mission to accomplish. They need to coordinate an assortment of prominent characters from Chinese history in their quest to fight and kill corrupt officials, usually accompanied by bikini-clad mistresses and muscular henchmen. Who doesn’t like to punch a corrupt local mayor in the face? Released in the summer of 2007, the game almost immediately attracted over 10,000 players; its site even had to temporarily