How does historical propaganda continue to shape political beliefs decades after?

Decades after Mao Zedong first became the chairman of the Chinese communist party, his glorified legacy continues to live on — in the hearts of Chinese nationalists, within sociopolitical culture, and through the giant portrait that prominently overlooks Tiananmen Square in Beijing. However, there is a significant contrast between the official narrative surrounding Mao within China and the interpretations of many historians outside China. The ideological gap between Western perspectives and Chinese perceptions of Mao can be partially explained through the effects of historical propaganda. A 2013 survey conducted by the state-affiliated Global Times found that 85.1% of respondents believed Mao’s achievements outweighed his mistakes (Al Jazeera). However, the survey only covered 1,045 adults across seven Chinese cities and was therefore not representative of the entire Chinese population. Historical propaganda therefore remains politically influential not simply because it tells people what to believe, but because governments institutionalise historical narratives throughout society. By embedding particular interpretations of the past into everyday life while restricting competing narratives, propaganda shapes the environment in which political beliefs are formed and determines which version of history becomes socially acceptable.

Modern society often overlooks the effects of embedded cultural identities, institutional structures, and collective memories that combine to form long-term, accepted societal truths. Younger generations are often characterised as liberal, radical, and increasingly independent, possessing the agency to challenge long-standing social traditions. Yet beneath this image lies a set of social structures that shape perspectives long before individuals develop complete autonomy. Mao's legacy has also been formally preserved within the CCP's own interpretation of its history. In discussions surrounding the Party's 1981 historical resolution, Deng Xiaoping argued that Mao's achievements and mistakes required a balanced assessment while warning that abandoning Mao Zedong Thought would amount to negating the Party's “glorious history” (Communist Party of China). Although his radical economic and political campaigns resulted in political prosecution and mass famine, particularly the Great Chinese Famine, which is estimated to have caused between 15 and 45 million deaths (Wemheuer), many Chinese citizens continue to regard him as a national hero. His political legacy is also closely connected to the legitimacy of the current government, with many crediting Mao with unifying a fractured nation and restoring China’s global sovereignty and international status. 

However, this perception differs sharply from that of many historians and critics, particularly in Western scholarship, who characterise Mao as an authoritarian leader for political suppression, mass violence, and failed economic reforms. His attempts to industrialize China through the Great Leap Forward (1958-1962) contributed to one of the deadliest famines in history, followed by the political upheaval and persecution of the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976). His policies also had lasting social consequences. During the Mao era, the Chinese government enforced strict sexual norms that viewed marriage and sexuality primarily through the lens of socialist and state-building objectives. These policies were accepted by the public and strengthened by Mao’s historical propaganda, which shaped an environment where certain beliefs, however prejudiced, became a normality in society. Similarly, agricultural collectivisation contributed to enormous social upheaval, as state policies prioritised collective production and industrialisation while often disregarding the experiences and needs of rural communities. However, the sociopolitical mistakes and longlasting destructive consequences that resulted from Mao’s leadership are often omitted by many Chinese who have been inculcated with historical propaganda.

One of the main mechanisms through which historical narratives are reinforced is state-controlled education. From primary school, Chinese students participate in patriotic rituals such as flag raising ceremonies, salutes, and the singing of the national anthem. More broadly, the Chinese state has institutionalised patriotic education through legislation. China’s 2023 Patriotic Education Law requires patriotic education to be incorporated throughout the national education system, including within school curricula, textbooks, extracurricular activities, and campus culture. Research into Chinese primary-school textbooks has found that Mao is frequently portrayed as an authoritative and charismatic leader, while discussion of his later political conflicts and economic failures is comparatively limited (Zhou). This selective representation allows historical education to preserve a favourable image of Mao among younger generations, demonstrating how propaganda can operate through omission as well as explicit praise. Patriotic education laws mandate loyalty to the CCP across schools, religious groups, and family units, while heavy curriculum control imparts political theory and patriotic thought from primary schools up to university. The law also explicitly connects patriotism with identification with the Chinese nation, the Communist Party, and socialism (National People’s Congress). This institutionalism matters because historical narratives are not simply communicated through political speeches or government propaganda campaigns. They can later become embedded within everyday environments in which young people are educated. When a particular interpretation of history is repeatedly presented by schools, textbooks, public ceremonies, and political institutions, it can become perceived as common knowledge rather than propaganda.

This educational influence is combined with extensive online censorship and restrictions on access to foreign media. China’s contemporary censorship system limits access to many international websites and regulates politically sensitive online content. Freedom House reports that thousands of websites, including major international news and social-media platforms, are blocked in China, while critical discussion of the Chinese Communist Party and its history can also be subject to censorship (Freedom House). This creates an information environment in which official historical narratives can become disproportionately influential. However, it would be overly simplistic to attribute all positive perceptions of Mao to propaganda. Personal family experiences, nationalism, nostalgia, perceptions of social equality, and genuine admiration for Mao’s role in China’s revolution can all influence those political beliefs. The significance of propaganda therefore lies in its ability to shape the information and cultural environment in which those beliefs develop. 

Mao’s historical image is politically useful because the CCP’s own legitimacy is partly connected to the revolutionary history that it claims to inherit. Scholars Robert Weatherley and Coirle Magee argue that Chinese history textbooks use the country's past to legitimize CCP rule, presenting modern Party leaders as continuing a longer tradition of legitimate Chinese governance (Weatherley and Magee). Mao's position within this historical narrative therefore gives his legacy significance beyond personal admiration: it forms part of the historical framework through which the Party presents its own authority. By glorifying the political leadership of the Communist party, the institution can continue its legacy all the while minimising criticism for the public. As the revolutionary founder and past chairman of the CCP, any criticism of Mao could potentially complicate the legitimacy of historical narratives surrounding the CCP. It is therefore beneficial for the party’s successors that the public viewpoint of Mao remains positive along with perspectives on the validity of the CCP. 

A similar phenomenon can be observed in Russia, where historical memory surrounding the Second World War has become a powerful instrument of political identity. The Soviet victory over Nazi Germany has been transformed into a central component of Russian national identity. Under Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev, particularly during the 1960s, the victory was increasingly elevated into a foundational national myth, reinforced through posters, monuments and films portraying the Soviet soldier as a heroic defender of civilisation (Kelly). These cultural objects are embedded into the everyday life of Russians to repeatedly emphasise the idea of national glory and belief in the ruling government. Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, this memory remained politically significant. Mass state-sponsored marches were conducted where citizens carry portraits of WW2 veterans alongside modern state symbols to reflect patriotic societal values and the belief in military strength and glory. These repeated public commemoration turns historical memory into shared cultural identity for Russia’s citizens, making the effect of propaganda inevitable throughout society. By keeping the historical propaganda alive, the current regime can effortlessly map old Soviet templates onto modern conflicts. This gives the public a valid justification for the country’s involvement in war, including the invasion of Ukraine in which Russian politicians labelled anyone opposing Moscow’s regional influence a ‘fascist’ or ‘Nazi’. The political usefulness of this historical memory became particularly evident during Russia's invasion of Ukraine. In his February 2022 speeches, Vladimir Putin framed the invasion through the language of the Second World War, presenting “denazification” as a justification for military action. Scholars have argued that this rhetoric drew upon a deeply established Soviet narrative of the Great Patriotic War, allowing a contemporary conflict to be interpreted through the moral framework of the Soviet victory over Nazi Germany (Rossoliński-Liebe and Willems). The historical continuity from the Soviet Union’s success in WW2 can therefore influence political perceptions by activating deep-seated memories of wartime sacrifice (Krawatzek and Frieß). Modern Russia has also codified a patriotic Soviet framework by introducing strict laws against the ‘falsification of history’, in which any criticism of the modern regime is reframed as an insult to the nation’s ancestral heroes. This propaganda helps merge the identity of the current government with the sacred memory of the 1945 victory; meanwhile, it also rejects the Soviet Union’s humiliation in the 1990s when the transition to Western-style capitalism resulted in poverty and hyperinflation. Russia’s military propaganda serves as a tool to convince the population that reviving the Soviet era ‘fortress mentality’ provides a comfortable psychological shield against a perceived hostile world. The government is able to associate itself with the moral authority of the Soviet Union in order to retain power and positive publicity (McGlynn). 

Despite their different historical contexts, China and Russia demonstrate a similar mechanism: historical propaganda becomes most durable when it is institutionalised rather than confined to explicit political messaging. The historical propaganda that has shaped longstanding legacies in both China and Russia reveals the power of manipulation that the government interweaves into the social, cultural and political landscape of the nation. In China, education and censorship shape which interpretations of Mao are encountered, while in Russia, public commemoration transforms the memory of WW2 into an enduring component of national identity. Propaganda survives in both countries due to its heavy relevance in society and throughout the contemporary lifestyle. The historical narratives that are embedded within education, cultural identity, political institutions, public rituals, and collective memory are also used to reframe and marginalise uncomfortable aspects of the past and present. This allows political beliefs to develop within an environment already structured by the state.

George Orwell wrote in his wartime diary, “All propaganda is lies, even when one is telling the truth.” He speaks of state-sponsored propaganda as a way to indoctrinate and control the public from rebelling against its government. Its power can lie in the selective construction of truth—what is emphasised, what is omitted, and how historical events are connected to the political needs of the present (Orwell). Yet the continuation of historical propaganda is not without consequence, as it comes with international dissent and the rejection of historical truth. It also tampers with the psyche of the population, primarily through the use of bandwagoning patriotism on a nation’s citizens. Ultimately, what makes historical propaganda so effective is its deep-rooted assimilation in various aspects of society, including social, cultural and political, and the use of historical victories to conceal the institutional flaws of the present government. While not all propaganda is effective in creating or altering individual beliefs, it is able to shape an environment where certain beliefs become normalised and historical propaganda becomes pervasive in everyday life. But what society needs to keep in mind is that propaganda has also long since come with indispensable moral costs; ultimately, the effects of propaganda has caused people to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history.