Tsering Phuntsok watched news unfold about the flood between Nepal and Tibet from thousands of miles away in southern India. This 46-year-old exiled Tibetan has missing relatives on both sides of the border; those in Nepal appear on official government lists, but in Tibet no information has been received. “I’ve started praying for the lost now. I have to accept that they won’t come back.” [because] … I’m not getting any information.” The flood disaster is an example of Chinese authorities’ increasing use of “Clean Internet 2026,” the latest version of a long-running campaign by the Ministry of Public Security that criminalizes anything officials consider false information, including unofficial accounts of the flood narrative. While earlier versions of the campaign focused on cybercrime and hacking, it is increasingly used to attack what authorities call “rumors” that include information unofficial about the disaster. “The campaign has a double purpose. Addressing genuine problems like fraud and misinformation, while tightening control over public narratives,” says Tencho Gyatso of the International Campaign for Tibet, a US-based Tibetan advocacy group. “That dual purpose is what makes criticism more nuanced and challenging.” In the hours after the floods, researchers say they saw a huge spike in interest on Chinese social media. The topic was trending, but then disappeared when comments were deleted in real time. Area in Gyirong port Photograph: Tingshu Wang/Pool Reuters/AP Screenshots seen by The Guardian show the Chinese app WeChat restricting posts about the floods In one case, WeChat notified a user that a post about the flood had been reported and then removed for containing “politically sensitive content”.[The trend] “It was constantly changing and being manipulated because there was real interest,” says David Bandurski, director of the China Media Project, a research group that monitors Chinese media. “‘Repression’ is not the right word, because they do not take strong measures. It is a constant, persistent and daily application of a policy of guiding public opinion.” On August 30, four days after the disaster, Tibet police reported 10 cases under the Clean Internet 2026 campaign related to “rumors” about the disaster. In most cases it was claimed that more than 1,000 people had been swept away by the floods. So far, Chinese authorities have released a death toll of 43. Tibetan human rights and advocacy groups have accused the Chinese government of trying to hide the true magnitude of the death toll. The police notice said the spread of “rumours” “misleads the public and disrupts online order” and was intended to “ensure that relief work proceeds smoothly.” A user from Jiangxi, a province 3,000 kilometers away from the disaster, posted on a video platform stating that “the number of missing people had increased to 826.” According to the police report, the user faced an “administrative punishment” without specifying which one. A former journalist for Chinese state media, who agreed to speak on condition of anonymity for fear of reprisals, says that crisis control also works through simple omission of information as well as suppression: “Official news coverage devotes enormous space to showing that the state is working hard, but provides very little information to answer the most basic questions: Who is missing? Where were they last seen? What buildings have been searched?” Controls have become much stricter, especially in Internet, although there are nuances, since there are still ways to bypass the restrictions. For example, by publishing quickly or using veiled language to disseminate content,” they say. But allowing some information can serve the interests of central authorities, says a former CGTN editor who worked at the station during the Covid pandemic and who also asked not to be identified for fear of reprisals. Photograph: Tingshu Wang/Pool Reuters/AP “The government needs journalists to uncover inconvenient truths because it needs accurate information to govern effectively,” they say. “But if journalists are gives them complete freedom to discover and publish those truths, they can expose things that are politically uncomfortable or challenge the interests of the State.” Bandurski says: “The [Communist] The party sees itself in a global struggle of public opinion. He is fighting with the world that is struggling to express his vision. That’s how China views information globally, in a very, very oppositional framework.” Phuntsok hopes his family on the Nepal side is still alive. His grandfather, Wangyal, his uncle Janngchup, his aunt Sumchok and his young son, Yeshi Dorjee, are still missing. On the Tibet side, he is unwilling to share the names of his missing relatives with The Guardian for security reasons. Kalsang Jigme, a Tibetan journalist based in New Delhi, says: “Normally, when there is a disaster, people are very active, praying and supporting, and sending goods to the affected area. But this time they are completely silenced.” Additional research by Yu-chen Li in Taipei
