Perry Link, one of America’s most respected China scholars, has spent his life navigating the delicate balance between the classroom and the political arena. A fluent Mandarin speaker and professor of comparative literature at the University of California, Riverside, he has closely observed the shifting mindset of Chinese students over several decades, from the idealistic dissenters of the 1980s to the more pragmatic and politically reserved youth of today.
In a wide-ranging reflection on his academic and activist career, Perry Link opens up about his evolving understanding of China’s political culture, the complexities of working with different generations of Chinese students, and how he continues to hold fast to the ideals of democracy in a tightening authoritarian age.
From refuge to “gold-plating”: How student motives have changed
Perry Link first encountered Chinese students in the United States in the post-Mao era, when many arrived not only for education, but also to escape. These early students, mostly graduate-level scientists and engineers, often carried profound disillusionment with the Communist Party. “Many of them saw coming to the U.S. as 逃命 — a way to save their lives,” Perry Link recalls: “They were outspoken, politically aware, and critical of the Chinese government.”
He reminisces about a 1980 UCLA screening of The Herdsman, a film that touched on the traumas of the Cultural Revolution. Although many students watching were studying science and technology, they were visibly moved. Literature became a mirror for their suppressed memories and political frustrations.
But the spirit of open dissent began to wane after the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown. “After June Fourth, students got quiet,” Link says. Fear of surveillance and reprisal crept into overseas classrooms. Students became hesitant to speak candidly, even abroad. A subtle but powerful chill had set in.
The rise of pragmatism: 1990s and beyond
As China’s economy grew in the 1990s, so did its global influence, and the attitudes of its students studying abroad shifted accordingly. “No longer were they fleeing,” Perry Link notes. “They were coming to gain credentials.”
This new wave viewed American education as a tool for personal advancement, rather than a space for political awakening. “They wanted to gold-plate their resumes,” Perry Link explains, referring to the trend of earning Western degrees to boost social and professional status back home.
The influx of undergraduates, especially in California, reflected another change. Many students, Perry Link observes, came not from China’s top universities but from families who could afford to send them abroad when domestic exam scores fell short. “They might drive Teslas to class,” he says wryly. Education, for some, had become a symbol of privilege rather than a means of inquiry.
A culture of silence and surveillance
Perry Link is careful not to label today’s Chinese students politically apathetic, but he acknowledges a deep caution. In classrooms, even when sensitive issues like the Tiananmen Square massacre or censorship are raised, discussion often stalls. “They don’t know who might report them,” he says.
One haunting memory stands out. A student from Shanxi, upon seeing The Tiananmen Papers on Perry Link’s bookshelf, sincerely asked: “Did more students kill soldiers, or more soldiers kill students?” Perry Link wasn’t offended. “He genuinely didn’t know,” he says. That moment captured the vast information gap between China’s tightly controlled narrative and the historical record available abroad.
This climate of fear doesn’t mean students aren’t thinking deeply — it means they’re doing it in private. “They come to my office and ask real questions,” Link says. “They just don’t ask them out loud.”
Nationalism’s quiet rise in the classroom
Another shift Perry Link has noticed is a growing nationalism. In recent years, some students have echoed state media talking points in classroom discussions, especially on international issues. “They’ll quote Xinwen Lianbo almost word-for-word,” he says, referring to China’s main nightly news broadcast.
For Perry Link, this is troubling — not because he disagrees with their views, but because it suggests a decline in critical thinking. “The classroom is a space for open exchange,” he says. “But these students aren’t debating — they’re repeating.”
Teaching language, teaching freedom
Perry Link divides his career into three pillars: language instruction, literary analysis, and political engagement. Of all these, he says he enjoys teaching first-year Chinese the most. Why? “Because getting students to pronounce the tones correctly opens the door to real human connection,” he says. “When Chinese people hear a foreigner get the tones right, they think: ‘This person gets us.’”
Literature, meanwhile, allows for nuanced exploration of moral and social complexity. Unlike language, which has right and wrong answers, literature encourages ambiguity, and that’s where independent thought begins. For Perry Link, it’s never just about reading — it’s about cultivating empathy and intellectual curiosity.
A life in dissent: Reflections on activism
As an academic, Perry Link made waves for translating banned Chinese works and defending figures like dissident physicist Fang Lizhi during the Tiananmen era. He’s also been banned from China. Looking back, he wonders if it made a difference.
“I’ve spent decades fighting for democracy in China,” he admits. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s all been in vain.” Under Xi Jinping, Perry Link sees echoes of Mao’s authoritarianism returning, and China’s civil society shrinking.
Yet he continues. “I still believe it’s worth it,” he says. “Democracy and openness are tied to human nature. People crave them, even if they don’t always say so out loud.”
Hope lives in the cracks
Even in a climate of repression, Perry Link sees signs of hope. He cites the 2022 “Chained Woman” scandal, which drew enormous online attention, far more than China’s Winter Olympics. “Official narratives sit here,” he gestures, “but from below, the people still express their values.”
He quotes Czech dissident Václav Havel: “Live as if in truth. Be a real person in the cracks of the system.” In authoritarian regimes, Perry Link says, being true to your conscience — even in private — is a radical act.
His message to Chinese students and citizens is simple: “Keep going. Don’t be afraid. Change is slow — but it will come.”
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