What kind of country is China going to become? China continues to dominate headlines and remains a central focus for policymakers, analysts, and commentators in the West. Yet, scholarly opinions are more divided than ever on how to address the so-called “China Challenge.” As China grows markedly more powerful—while maintaining its distinct political and social identity—the West must grapple with the nature and implications of these differences. Understanding China will be one of the defining challenges of the twenty-first century, and to do so, we must first look to its past. 

Every year on May 4th, China celebrates Youth Day—a holiday established by the Communist Party in 1949 and observed intermittently ever since. In 2019, however, President Xi Jinping marked the occasion with particular significance, calling on students to commemorate the centennial of the original May Fourth “Wusi” Movement of 1919, widely regarded as the birth of modern Chinese nationalism.

Under Xi’s leadership, nationalism in China has evolved into a more assertive and expansive force, shaping both East Asian regional politics and broader international relations. This resurgent nationalism is not merely organic—it has been carefully cultivated through official rhetoric, education, and media, particularly under the banner of the “Chinese Dream” and national rejuvenation. The Chinese Communist Party has increasingly turned to history to legitimize its rule and reinforce national unity, casting past humiliations and struggles as moral lessons for present strength. In this context, the May Fourth Movement has been reimagined not only as a student protest but as a foundational moment of patriotic awakening–one that aligns neatly with the CCP’s ongoing effort to position itself as the rightful inheritor of China’s historical struggles against imperialism.

This was clearly reflected in China’s newly released White Paper on National Security. It opens with a classical injunction—”Be secure but never forget the existence of danger; survive but never forget the threat of death; govern but never forget the possibility of chaos” (安而不忘危，存而不忘亡，治而不忘乱)—and roots Xi Jinping’s “comprehensive national security concept” in 5,000 years of Chinese tradition. The Party frames its approach to security as historically continuous and morally grounded, drawing on cultural memory and historical trauma to justify far-reaching policies.

Unlike the United States, China has never publicly issued a National Security Strategy. The new White Paper, then, may serve as a semi-official articulation of its evolving doctrine, potentially setting the tone for a future five-year strategy beginning in 2026. It defines national security in expansive terms, encompassing not only political, territorial, and military issues, but also cyberspace, food, ecology, AI, ideology, and overseas interests. Notably, it elevates “political security”—meaning the preservation of Party rule, the socialist system, and ideological orthodoxy—as the “lifeline” of China’s overall security architecture. At the heart of this project is a powerful sense of historical mission: to ensure that China never again suffers the “century of humiliation” at the hands of foreign powers.

Understanding the historical and ideological roots of this sentimental nationalism, particularly how it emerged from a period of anti-imperial resistance and national awakening, remains essential to interpreting China’s current global posture. To grasp the enduring significance of May Fourth, we must return to the volatile world of 1919.

The year 1919 looked markedly different from today. It was a time defined by the collapse of longstanding empires, the rise of liberal Wilsonian ideals of self-determination, and widespread popular protests demanding a voice in the redrawing of national boundaries. It was within this global climate of upheaval and transformation that the May Fourth Movement emerged in China.

On May 4, 1919, over 3,000 university students from Beijing gathered in Tiananmen Square, holding banners demanding the defense of China’s sovereignty. Outraged by the Versailles Peace Conference’s decision to transfer German-held territories in Shandong to Japan, the protesters denounced this betrayal of Chinese territorial rights. In the months that followed, Chinese students wrote manifestos, staged street protests, and were frequently imprisoned by the Beiyang government, where they endured legal persecution. 

As the birthplace of Confucius, Shandong held deep national significance, and its cession to Japan sparked a wave of national consciousness, transforming the political attitudes and actions of both student and elite groups. The May Fourth Movement, then, can be seen as a catalyst for modern Chinese nationalism within an international system still moulded by empire. It was not a spontaneous uprising, but the product of deeper socio-political transformations and long-standing resistance to colonial injustice. The development of nationalist identity in this period—what Benedict Anderson famously termed an “imagined community”—was deeply informed by emerging forms of education, media, and global political ideals

Grounded in the principles of Wilsonian self-determination—and drawing connections to Anderson’s ideas on the rise of print culture and expanded education in shaping nationalism—it becomes evident that the Chinese student response perceived the transfer of Shandong to Japan as yet another manifestation of foreign imperialism infringing upon China’s sovereignty. This, compounded by the legacy of the Century of Humiliation, ignited a powerful nationalist response in the aftermath of the Versailles Conference. Thus, this article will first explore the immediate triggers of the May Fourth demonstrations, then examine the broader socio-political shifts of the 19th and 20th centuries that shaped student activism, and finally analyze the role of foreign imperialism in fueling the movement. Today, as Chinese nationalism plays an increasingly assertive role in regional and global affairs, revisiting the May Fourth Movement helps us understand how national sovereignty, public mobilization, and international betrayal became linked in China’s political psyche—and why those ideas still matter in its contemporary security narrative.

In 2025, this legacy is visible in China’s intensified military drills around Taiwan following the reelection of a pro-independence president, its ongoing militarization of artificial islands in the South China Sea despite international legal rulings, and its imposition of economic coercion against states—such as Lithuania and the Philippines—that defy its diplomatic positions. National sovereignty, once defended through student manifestos, is now asserted through legal warfare (“lawfare”), cyber operations, and a growing blue-water navy. As geopolitical tensions rise across the Indo-Pacific, the legacy of May Fourth nationalism continues to inform China’s security doctrine, shaping how it perceives threats, builds alliances, and responds to perceived slights on the international stage.

The Paris Peace Conference

The post-World War I arena was ripe with political reconfiguration in the international arena, characterized by massive redrawing of borders, collapse of imperial powers, and formation of new ideologies. As Europe divided into competing factions, this left a golden opportunity for the Chinese, weathered under the power struggles among great nations, to stake a claim for equality and sovereignty. During the Great War, China strategically aligned with the Triple Entente in 1917, expecting that the Kiautschou Bay concession on the Shandong Peninsula—leased to Germany in 1897 and seized by Japan in 1914 following its invasion as an Allied power—would be returned to Chinese sovereignty. Initially part of China, Shandong fell under Japanese control in 1915 following a series of demands asserting special privileges in the region. Under the pressure of a military-backed ultimatum and its Western allies still preoccupied with the Great War, China reluctantly accepted 13 of the 21 demands, hoping that Shandong would be restored through diplomacy at the Paris Peace Conference. The resulting 1915 treaty, a revised version of Japan’s original Twenty-One Demands, formally recognized Japan’s inheritance of Germany’s former rights in Shandong. With the eventual victory of the Entente powers, Beijing was granted a seat at the post-war peace conference to discuss issues arising from the war. The debate over transferring German concessions in the Shandong Peninsula to Japan, rather than restoring them to China, became formally recognized as the “Shandong Question” at the Versailles Conference. 

In Paris, China’s position was as weak as Japan’s was strong. Despite enduring resistance and extended negotiations by the Chinese delegation, the Treaty of Versailles ultimately awarded the Shandong territory to Japan in April 1919. Nearly a month later, protesters flooded Tiananmen Square, expressing their outrage at the Allies’ betrayal of China, condemning the government’s failure to defend national interests, and demanding a boycott of Japanese goods in what would be the beginning of the May Fourth Movement. Gathering from thirteen universities across Peking, the students collectively drafted five resolutions, with the Shandong ruling serving as one of their central grievances. This wave of rising nationalism expressed by the student protestors pressured the Chinese delegation into rejecting the Treaty of Versailles.

Situated in the backdrop was the so-called Wilsonian Moment, led by President Woodrow Wilson and his renowned Fourteen Points, which struck deeply into the heart of the Chinese nationalist movement, particularly among its largest group: university students and intellectuals. Speaking enchanting words of national self-determination that would guarantee the “political independence and territorial integrity to great and small nations alike” presented enticing possibilities of Chinese sovereignty and national equality on an international stage.

Even before the conference’s decision in favor of Japan, Chinese students invoked the principle of self-determination to appeal to foreign governments at Versailles. They petitioned President Wilson upon his arrival in Europe, insisting that his ideals must be applied universally rather than selectively based on geography. With the Allies claiming to uphold humanity and justice, both European and non-European disputes should be addressed with equal fairness. The Shandong Question, therefore, had to align with Wilsonian principles, ensuring that all nations—regardless of size or region—had the right to determine their own destinies free from external interference. Thus, it could be said that the expression of Chinese nationalism emerged through interactions on an international level at the Versailles Conference. 

Championed by ordinary students determined to defend Chinese interests, this moment marked a pivotal political shift as grassroots activists began to incrementally overshadow the traditional dominance of diplomats and elites in shaping national affairs. For China, the Versailles Conference and the promise of self-determination represented a chance to restore national dignity after eighty years of humiliation under the unequal treaty system. Chinese university students and intellectuals, eager for a spark to ignite nationalist sentiment, found it in the inclusive and powerful ideals espoused by Woodrow Wilson. The Versailles Treaty’s decision to grant Shandong to Japan ignited intense outrage across China. For students and intellectuals, it was a flagrant disregard for Wilsonian ideals of self-determination, a direct insult to Chinese sovereignty, and a troubling affirmation of Japan’s growing imperial power. 

Print Capitalism and Education Reform

Although the May Fourth Movement is often viewed as a direct reaction to the resolution of the Shandong Question at Versailles, it is crucial to understand that this surge of nationalist sentiment had deep-rooted origins. The development of the printing press and media played a crucial role in forging the socio-political awareness of Chinese students, ultimately culminating in the May Fourth demonstrations. The rise of the press and the emergence of Chinese nationalism have a direct correlation. 

Between 1815 and 1890, roughly seventy-six newspapers circulated in China, predominantly in foreign languages and operated by missionaries whose reporting was largely confined to religious concerns. In 1895, however, the Treaty of Shimonoseki deepened national discontent over China’s political opaqueness, sparking a movement among intellectuals to create domestic publishing houses. The newspaper emerged as an intermediary between the court and the common people, laying the groundwork for a new political landscape characterized by domestic discourse and widespread public engagement. In what would be aptly dubbed the “Chinese Renaissance,” the founding of the Republic ushered in a legally free press, fostering an intellectual climate that sought to “bring Chinese thought into direct contact with the contemporary thought of the world, thereby accelerating its radical awakening.” By the time the Peace Conference convened, the number of daily newspapers in circulation had surged to 300. The intellectuals spearheading this media revolution conceived of the newspaper as a “print-commodity,” a tool for cultivating a shared national consciousness and fostering a “deep, horizontal comradeship” among the Chinese populace. The expansion of print capitalism—where accessible publications reached an increasingly broad “consuming public”—became inextricably linked to the rise of Chinese nationalism, as mass media enabled widespread participation in national discourse. 

Given the high rates of illiteracy in China, it was university students and members of the intelligentsia who formed the primary audience for printed media. The expansion of the printing press not only facilitated the rapid dissemination of ideas but also fostered among students a sense of belonging to a unified nation-state. This intellectual connection was further strengthened by the widespread enthusiasm for Wilsonian ideals, which found an eager readership in China. Publications of Wilson’s important speeches appeared in newspapers and books that quickly became bestsellers. Absorbed through multiple channels—“the printed word, the spoken word, the motion picture, the poster, the signboard”—these ideas cemented themselves into the consciousness of their audience. Proliferation sparked a powerful sense of solidarity around the pursuit of Chinese national interests and a reimagining of China’s global position. This intellectual ferment, driven by mass media and the promise of self-determination, catalyzed the national awakening that would come to define the May Fourth Movement.

The expansion of education instituted by the Qing Dynasty also fostered a more internationalized perspective on nationalism. While China possessed a long-established tradition of administrative governance, modern public administration as a distinct discipline was a relatively recent development, having been introduced from abroad less than a century ago. The country’s devastating defeat in the First Sino-Japanese War forced intellectuals to confront a pressing question: Was the military and industrial superiority of the West and Japan merely a result of technological advancements, or was it deeply intertwined with their political, legal, and social institutions? Furthermore, did these Western systems and values fundamentally conflict with Confucian principles? In response, a new formula was thus developed for the mission of national revitalization, encapsulated in the doctrine of “Chinese learning as the foundation, Western knowledge for practical use” (zhongxue weiti, xixue weiyong), a principle championed by Qing official Zhang Zhidong to engage with the geopolitical realities of Western influence. As part of this effort, China sent waves of students abroad, the majority of whom pursued their studies in Japan. In fact, the earliest organized responses to the Twenty-One Demands had been initiated by Chinese students overseas in Japan. Their physical distance from China heightened their nationalist fervor, while their proximity to Japan made them particularly attuned to the implications of imperialist encroachment. As a result, they responded with urgency and intensity, often mobilizing more swiftly and passionately than their counterparts at home. 

Through their exposure to foreign ideas and cultures during their studies, Chinese students returned home with a broadened perspective, integrating nationalism with a nascent internationalism. This emerging sense of Chinese consciousness was exemplified by their reaction to the Twenty-One Demands, which prompted 4,000 students to return to China en masse, eager to participate in negotiations for their nation’s interests. As the world became more integrated and cooperative, China recognized the necessity of forging a national identity that could assert its place within a “fraternity of equals” defined by sovereign nation-states. 

Chinese students, exposed to nations exercising self-determination, sought to position China within this new global framework. A key figure in this shift was V.K. Wellington Koo, whose international education embodied the ideals of this new generation. After studying at St. John’s College in Shanghai and later at Columbia University in the United States, Koo became a prominent figure in Chinese diplomacy. At the Versailles Peace Conference, Koo effectively utilized his global academic background to argue for China’s rightful claim to Shandong, citing “national sovereignty and territorial integrity”—principles that echoed Wilson’s vision of self-determination. Koo’s experience at Versailles manifested the vision of Zhang Zhidong’s educational reforms, illustrating how the overseas Chinese pupils were pivotal in reshaping both domestic attitudes and the national identity, positioning China as an active participant in the emerging global order.

The “Century of Humiliation“

The May Fourth Movement, which centered around the Shandong issue, arose as a direct response to China’s long history of subjugation by foreign powers. At the heart of this movement was the rejection of a political and economic order that had for centuries ensured foreign nations, particularly European ones, maintained dominance over China through extraterritorial rights and unfair trade arrangements. 

The Treaty of Nanjing, which concluded the First Opium War, was the first of many treaties that cemented China’s inferior status in international relations. Not only did it force China to pay reparations to Britain, but it also ceded Hong Kong, opened Chinese ports to British trade, and granted extraterritorial privileges to foreign nationals. Extraterritorial rights, embedded in the Treaty of Nanjing and subsequent agreements, exempted foreign nationals from Chinese law, effectively creating a system of legal segregation that allowed foreign powers to operate without accountability within Chinese borders. 

This legal framework facilitated a form of imperial control that stifled China’s ability to govern itself and protected foreign interests at the expense of domestic well-being. The economic strain and the erosion of China’s legal and political independence that resulted from these treaties fostered deep resentment, particularly among the educated elite and students who were increasingly exposed to international ideas through their studies abroad. Within this context, Chinese identity began to coalesce around recollection of a shared historical experience, with the creation of the Chinese nation-state rooted in a sense of an “immemorial past.” Drawing upon Wilsonian ideals, which emphasized the dismantling of “all economic barriers and the establishment of an equality of trade conditions,” Chinese students advocated for the abolition of the treaty port system and extraterritorial privileges that had been entrenched since the Treaty of Nanjing. Their movement was emblematic of a broader struggle to dismantle the remnants of Western imperial dominance and reassert China’s sovereignty.

At the turn of the 20th century, however, the specter of foreign dominance was no longer solely a European enterprise. Japan’s resounding victory in the Russo-Japanese War marked the first instance in modern history in which a non-Western power had decisively triumphed over a European adversary. This unprecedented outcome shattered the prevailing notion of Western invincibility and propelled Japan into the ranks of the great powers, instilling within its leadership a newfound confidence in its imperial aspirations. Emboldened by its success, Japan embarked on a trajectory that increasingly mirrored the colonial pursuits of its Western counterparts. Now an imperial power in its own right, Japan sought to expand its influence in China, as seen through the imposition of the Twenty-One Demands. 

In an ironic parallel to the British encroachments of the previous century, Japan positioned itself as an inheritor of the colonial order, leveraging its military and diplomatic strength to extract concessions that further diminished Chinese autonomy. For Chinese intellectuals and students, this development reinforced the urgency of national resistance, as the specter of subjugation merely shifted from European hegemony to Japanese domination. Influenced by Wilsonian ideals of self-determination and perhaps galvanized by the prospect that China could emulate Japan’s emergence as an Asian great power, Chinese university students spearheaded efforts to reclaim national sovereignty. In the immediate aftermath of the May Fourth demonstrations, Chinese students residing in Europe and America issued a formal protest to British authorities, decrying Japan’s usurpation of Chinese rights. They argued that Japan had fundamentally altered “the fiduciary character” of its occupation by coercing the Chinese government, under threat of an ultimatum, into acquiescing to its demands. Nationalism emerged as a resistance to Japan’s growing hegemony, exemplified by wartime concessions in Shandong.

The convergence of Japanese and Western imperial interests intensified nationalist opposition to the Shandong ruling at Versailles. Prior to the entry of both China and the United States into WWI, Britain and France pledged their support for Japan’s claims over Shandong, demonstrating a collusion of both East and West in the subjugation of China. When these clandestine arrangements came to light, they provoked widespread indignation among Chinese intellectuals, who viewed them as a direct betrayal of Wilsonian ideals. These emerging nationalists condemned the secret diplomatic dealings between Japan and the Allied powers, decrying the absence of the “frank and public” discourse that had been promised. The prewar negotiations had already placed China at a disadvantage in the Versailles proceedings as imperial powers—drawing on a history of unequal treaties and coercive diplomacy— presumed the authority to reallocate Chinese territory for their own strategic benefit. In response, students, determined to assert China’s sovereignty on the global stage, mobilized against this revelation of international duplicity.

Recasting Revolution

The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has exercised firm control over historical narratives, selectively promoting or condemning past movements based on their alignment with party interests. While the May Fourth Movement is actively studied and even celebrated—thanks to its successful ideological repackaging—the June Fourth Movement of 1989 remains officially branded as “anti-party” and “anti-socialist,” with strict censorship preventing open discussion. The CCP venerates student uprisings like May Fourth, where it can position itself as part of a just revolutionary tradition, while vilifying post-1949 movements that challenge its authority.

There is little reason to believe that the May Fourth Movement would inspire contemporary resistance or student-led uprisings under Xi Jinping’s leadership. Its core values have already been assimilated into the state’s educational and ideological framework. Though aspects of the movement such as calls for democracy and reform may, in theory, run counter to the current regime’s authoritarianism, they have been carefully reframed to support the Party’s agenda rather than undermine it.

The regime’s tightly controlled propaganda apparatus ensures that only a filtered, state-approved version of May Fourth is disseminated—one that stresses nationalism, civic duty, and social harmony, while minimizing its more liberal and confrontational roots. Moreover, the government has repeatedly demonstrated its readiness to suppress dissent through force, most infamously in the crackdown on the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests. Since then, it has invested heavily in surveillance and internal security, making it increasingly difficult for grassroots movements to gain traction.

In this tightly controlled environment, the May Fourth legacy no longer functions as a vehicle for political mobilization but as a symbol co-opted by the state. Its once-radical message has been neutralized, making it unlikely to pose any ideological or practical threat to the ruling regime.

From May Fourth to Modern China

The May Fourth Movement highlighted a critical juncture in the nation’s fight for autonomy, deeply rooted in both historical injustices and the influence of international ideals. The mass protests that erupted reflected a growing sense of national pride and urgency among students who, inspired by the principles of self-determination, sought to reclaim China’s place in the world. These protests were not only a repudiation of imperial powers but a powerful assertion of China’s right to shape its own future, signaling a shift towards a more assertive nationalism. It marked the beginning of a new era where China, fueled by its historical experiences and newfound national consciousness, sought to dismantle the imperial order and redefine its role in the international arena. 

Under President Xi Jinping, the CCP continues to tightly control the interpretation of the May Fourth Movement. The movement is celebrated as a catalyst for China’s modern era, with the party invoking the same national pride that characterized 1919 to boast about China’s new global leadership, moving away from past submission.

However, the party’s actions often contradict the progressive ideals of the Wusi era. It has removed presidential term limits and entrenched Xi Jinping’s personal ideology into the Constitution, while punishing intellectuals who criticize these changes as regressive. In an ironic twist, the government has even banned images of Winnie-the-Pooh, claiming they mock the president’s appearance. Additionally, Chinese feminists advocating for gender equality and student activists defending workers’ rights have faced arrest, illustrating a stark departure from the revolutionary spirit of the past.

This suppression is not limited to mainland China. In 2014, when Beijing restricted Hong Kong’s electoral choices to preselected candidates, it triggered the Umbrella Movement. Led by students demanding greater democratic rights and autonomy for Hong Kong, the protests were met with unwavering resistance from the Chinese government. Joshua Wong, who became the global face of the movement at just 17, recently shared a poignant reminder of historical continuity: “2014, 1989, 1919”—referencing the historic years of student-led demonstrations in China.

In April 2019, several leaders of the 2014 protests were sentenced to harsh prison terms, demonstrating the government’s unyielding stance against civil disobedience. Just days later, Xi Jinping gave a speech praising the Wusi generation, warning that youth must submit to the authority of the party. Ironically, the government is celebrating the same student-driven ideals of 1919, while enacting policies and actions that stand in direct opposition to those values. The true spirit of May Fourth, one of defiance and the pursuit of democratic freedoms, lives on in today’s youth movements, even as the CCP seeks to rewrite its legacy.

The securitization of youth activism, civil society, and even academic inquiry reflects a regime that views domestic dissent and international criticism through the same lens: existential threat. In foreign policy, this translates to more aggressive responses to perceived encirclement–whether in Taiwan, where the PLA has escalated military maneuvers; in the South China Sea, where Beijing continues to defy international arbitration; or in its expanded influence campaigns abroad, targeting diasporic communities and foreign universities.

Furthermore, this year’s commemoration of the May Fourth spirit takes a distinctly geopolitical turn, as the CCP marked the occasion by announcing President Xi Jinping’s upcoming state visit to Russia to attend Victory Day celebrations. The Victory Day commemorations–marking the Soviet Union’s role in the defeat of Nazi Germany–are framed as part of a shared legacy between China and Russia in resisting fascist aggression, reinforcing a historical bond that now serves a contemporary strategic purpose. In this context, Xi’s visit to Moscow becomes not only a gesture of diplomatic solidarity but also a symbolic reaffirmation of a narrative that situates China as an inheritor of anti-imperialist resistance, now manifested through multipolar cooperation and strategic alignment with non-Western powers.

By co-opting the May Fourth legacy, the CCP seeks to legitimize a security state that defends not the revolutionary ideals of its youth, but the consolidation of party control. In today’s China, security is no longer just about borders—it is about managing narratives, disciplining memory, and monopolizing the definition of “Chinese-ness” itself. To understand China in 2025, the international community must understand its long dynastic past and the birth of the modern nation-state.

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Alice Quan
Alice is a student at the University of Toronto specializing in international security, with a particular focus on military and intelligence communities. She has worked with the G7 and G20 Research Groups and is currently conducting research for the Plakhov Group while also serving as an editor for academic journals. Additionally, she collaborates with her professor on the International Issues Discussion Series. Outside of academia, Alice enjoys playing badminton and making bad jokes.