News Desk
BEIJING — In a stark display of authoritarian resolve, a local government in China’s Jiangxi province has publicly shamed and punished a 20-year-old man for refusing military service, underscoring the mounting challenges the country faces in bolstering its armed forces amid growing domestic discontent and economic uncertainty.
The young man, identified only by his surname Liu, voluntarily enlisted in January but quickly soured on military life. Assigned to an armed police unit in March, Liu was described by Jishui county officials as “extremely unstable,” submitting five requests to leave the force. Despite interventions by army staff, recruiters, and even his family, he remained defiant. On April 19, he was expelled from the military and subjected to a suite of punitive measures, including public denunciation, intended to deter others from following suit, according to a government statement reported by the South China Morning Post.
This incident, far from an isolated case, lays bare the Chinese Communist Party’s struggle to maintain enthusiasm for military service among a youth demographic increasingly disillusioned by rigid state control, economic stagnation, and diminishing personal freedoms. As China seeks to project military might on the global stage—ramping up defense spending and modernizing the People’s Liberation Army (PLA)—it faces a paradox: a growing reluctance among young people to serve, driven by systemic issues that the government appears ill-equipped to address.
China’s military recruitment challenges are rooted in a confluence of social and economic factors. The country’s youth unemployment rate, which hovered around 17% in mid-2024, has left many young people skeptical of the state’s promises of stability through service. For many, the military’s modest pay and grueling conditions pale in comparison to the allure of private-sector opportunities, even in a faltering economy. Liu’s case, while extreme, reflects a broader sentiment: military service, once a path to social mobility, is increasingly seen as a trap.
“Young people today are more aware of their options and less willing to endure the harsh discipline of military life,” said Dr. Zhang Wei, a sociologist at Peking University who studies youth attitudes. “The government’s propaganda about patriotic duty doesn’t resonate when people feel their futures are uncertain.”
The one-child policy, only recently relaxed, has also left its mark. Many recruits, raised as only children, face intense familial pressure to prioritize personal success over national service. Liu’s repeated requests to leave suggest a young man caught between personal aspirations and state demands—a tension that resonates with millions.
The Jishui county government’s response to Liu’s refusal was swift and severe, designed to “uphold the seriousness of performing military service,” according to its statement. While specific punishments were not detailed, such cases often involve social credit penalties, restrictions on education or employment, and public humiliation—a tactic reminiscent of Mao-era struggle sessions.
This heavy-handed approach highlights the government’s anxiety over military dodging, which threatens to undermine President Xi Jinping’s vision of a “world-class” military by 2049. The PLA has struggled to meet recruitment targets in recent years, with reports of lowered physical and educational standards to fill ranks. In 2024, the Ministry of Defense announced new military academies to train talent, but such measures do little to address the root causes of disinterest.
Critics argue that the government’s reliance on coercion risks alienating the very population it seeks to mobilize. “Publicly punishing someone like Liu doesn’t inspire loyalty—it breeds resentment,” said Li Mei, a human rights advocate based in Hong Kong. “The state is showing it cares more about control than understanding why young people are opting out.”
China’s military recruitment woes are compounded by broader societal challenges. The country’s economic slowdown, coupled with a property sector crisis and declining consumer confidence, has eroded trust in the Communist Party’s ability to deliver prosperity. Xi’s emphasis on ideological conformity—evident in crackdowns on dissent and tightened censorship—has further alienated a generation that came of age with access to global ideas via the internet, despite the Great Firewall.
Geopolitical tensions also loom large. As China flexes its muscles in the South China Sea and escalates rhetoric over Taiwan, young people like Liu may question the personal cost of serving in a military poised for conflict. The PLA’s recent drills with Cambodia and warnings about U.S. space militarization signal a nation preparing for a turbulent future, but without the full buy-in of its youth.
The public punishment of Liu is a microcosm of China’s broader struggle to reconcile its authoritarian ambitions with a restive populace. By framing military service as a non-negotiable duty, the government risks deepening the divide between the state and its citizens. For every Liu who is disciplined, countless others may quietly resist, opting for paths that prioritize individual agency over collective sacrifice.
As China navigates an uncertain global landscape, its ability to inspire, rather than coerce, the next generation will determine the strength of its military—and the stability of its regime. For now, the message from Jishui county is clear: defiance will not be tolerated. But in a nation grappling with economic woes, social discontent, and a youth increasingly skeptical of state propaganda, such warnings may fall on deaf ears.
