China’s education system is often portrayed globally as a model of modernity, technological advancement, and strategic investment in human capital. State-run media celebrate China’s success in STEM fields, students’ exceptional performance in math and science, and the rigor of the Gaokao entrance exam as symbols of meritocracy. But beneath this polished surface lies another reality—one that critics argue promotes obedience over curiosity.

Recently, a former teacher and now-exiled critic has publicly accused the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) of turning schools into “ideological battlegrounds.” Speaking through writings and interviews from abroad, she stated, “We are not teaching—we are programming.” Her remarks sparked rare online debate, though most related posts were quickly censored.

Having worked in China’s public school system for over a decade, the teacher has kept her identity hidden due to concerns for her family, who remain in China. She revealed that teachers are obligated to conduct patriotic flag-raising ceremonies and recite party slogans. Teachers are also trained by local education departments on how to monitor students’ and parents’ political views, with specific instruction on “ideological boundaries” and reporting methods.

Since Xi Jinping rose to power in 2012, China has implemented an education model based on “socialism with Chinese characteristics.” School textbooks emphasize Xi’s leadership and the historical role of the Party while omitting controversial events such as the Tiananmen Square massacre, the Cultural Revolution, and the Great Leap Forward. Children as young as seven are made to memorize “Xi Jinping Thought,” and university students must pass political assessments to graduate or receive scholarships.

Surveillance and political pressure extend beyond classrooms into homes and communities. Tools like facial recognition cameras, AI-driven behavior trackers, and GPS-equipped “smart uniforms” ensure that students are constantly under the watchful eye of the state. Parents are also drawn into patriotic campaigns and encouraged to report “problematic behavior.”

Teachers face pressure not only to be professionally competent but also to embody the “ideal citizen.” Some have faced suspension or disciplinary action for posting critical comments on social media; others have been arrested for “inciting subversion of state power.” The exiled teacher recalled being sternly warned by her principal after merely explaining foreign governance systems: “Do not corrupt the students with Western ideas.”

Analysts suggest that in China, education is being used not just as a means to build human capital, but also as a tool for political control. While China may showcase educational achievements in international rankings, critics argue that creativity, independent thinking, and critical discourse are severely restricted.

The former teacher, now living in exile, asserts: “I am not a political dissident—I am speaking in defense of human values.” She has not returned to China due to the risk of arrest, and her family has already faced questioning and warnings not to collaborate with foreign media.

This hidden reality behind China’s highly developed education model is now being revealed to the world for the first time—but within China, such voices are still unlikely to be heard.