"Invitation to drink tea" - why so many people in the West have lost the desire to travel to China

Because the corona pandemic paralyzed travel to China from 2020 to early 2023, Beijing is eagerly hoping for a quick and sustainable recovery. But this is still a long way off. China's official statisticians report that 80 percent more foreigners entered China in 2024 compared to the previous year. However, they fail to mention that by the end of 2023 the figures had only recovered by a maximum of 60 percent compared to 2019. The picture becomes a little clearer when compared to China's neighbors. South Korea is registering a travel boom in 2024, with an increase of over 130 percent compared to 2019, Taiwan is even recording an increase of 139 percent, and Vietnam is also outshining China with 98 percent.

Beijing has paid a lot of money to attract tourists from abroad, even a piece of state sovereignty. At the beginning of December 2023, six European countries were unilaterally granted visa-free travel, which was then extended to dozens of other nations. Since mid-November 2024, tourists from 38 countries have enjoyed a "free trip to China" for thirty days. Other subtle concessions are also being granted: for example, the rule that nationwide cashless payments by smartphone are only permitted via a mainland Chinese cell phone number no longer applies. Until recently, such a concession would supposedly have endangered state security - due to the outflow of data to "enemy" countries or digital espionage.

This is where the catch becomes apparent, the reason why Western tourists have been avoiding China since 2019 and why they are still hesitant to return. The anti-espionage law, tightened in July 2023, makes it mandatory for Chinese citizens to monitor foreigners for suspicious behavior and, if necessary, report them.

This rule is particularly risky for Chinese people living abroad. Many such travelers from Japan found themselves in prison soon after being allowed to enter the country freely, and others from Canada and Australia followed. In China, plainclothes security officers are allowed to question any tourist at any time and in any place - in Chinese jargon, this is called an "invitation to drink tea". The aim is usually just to let visitors know that they are on the radar of watchful Chinese eyes and ears. Few foreigners feel free and relaxed under such circumstances.

Digital convenience also speaks volumes: payments made on smartphones via apps in China leave precise traces such as location and bank details for the authorities. Artificial intelligence today makes seamless surveillance child's play. If you want, you can know when and where, at what time of day, and on which chair from the left or right at the back wall of a restaurant the person being questioned had a conversation with whom. During the questioning, all you would have to do is casually add: "May I ask what the conversation was about?" Such interrogations are still rare. Nevertheless, there is a - justified - fear: who knows who will be next?

There is no doubt that the memory of the brutal and inhumane measures with which China's authorities responded to the corona epidemic is weighing on the willingness of Western tourists to indulge in carefree travel in the Middle Kingdom. Government orders were sold as the ultimate solution and paramilitary quarantine measures were ordered without ensuring that the people locked up in their settlements for weeks would be supplied with the essentials. Meanwhile, the propaganda praised the Chinese system to the highest degree - it was capable of an effectiveness that the Western states lack.

When the megacity of Shanghai, with its 25 million inhabitants, was locked down overnight, everyone was locked in their homes, including foreigners. The curfew lasted for five weeks and left many traumatized. It was only after mass street protests that the government backed down and eased the restrictions on a massive scale. The lesson to be learned from this is that if things go wrong, even as a Westerner you can be hit by the concentrated power of the state on your next trip to China.

China is no longer as hip as it once was. The boom years are over, and the economic crisis following the collapse of the bloated real estate sector is clearly weighing on the country. Grand avenues that were once crowded with people are now sparsely frequented. The consumer palaces that were teeming with free-spending locals and wealthy tourists from the West just a few years ago are half empty.

In Beijing and Shanghai, only extremely expensive restaurants are reporting good sales. Restaurants for those on a smaller budget are struggling or have already closed. In contrast, the street food business is flourishing. Moped drivers who deliver food ordered online to your door are omnipresent - the "little brothers of the fast-food delivery services" ("kuaidi xiaoge"). Western tourists, however, are unable to access these options because they cannot know who will deliver what, how quickly and reliably, for what price and for what taste, not to mention the hygiene and safety of the food.

China's specialist authorities always have a compelling explanation for the fact that guests from abroad are still staying away: the negative reporting in the West. It is obvious that the Chinese social media platforms contribute much more to the negative feelings. Malicious glee is always widespread when something goes wrong on a large scale for the enemy of the system. As was the case when the earth shook in Miyazaki, Japan, at the beginning of 2025, registering 6.9 on the Richter scale; or when the large fires in Los Angeles, fanned by the wind, burned down entire districts.

Of course, the Chinese are taking sides with Hamas and against Israel. And when it comes to Putin's criminal war of aggression against Ukraine, it is clear where his sympathies lie. The malicious glee is based on the message: the world is out of joint - except in China. It is everyone's fault, and it particularly serves those who are skeptical or even hostile towards the autocratic regime in Beijing rightly so. Which is not to say that they are not welcome as guests, because hard currency is urgently needed in economically troubled China.

Such double standards are not new; what is new is the attempt to use aggressive external pressure to conceal the serious internal crisis from people's attention. The topics of youth and mass unemployment, the crash on the stock exchanges in Shanghai and Shenzhen, the dire state of social security and the massive public debt are taboo. The fact that even civil servants' wages have been cut, in many places by as much as 30 percent, is also hushed up. The narrative that China is triumphing over the decadent and decaying West is increasingly less consistent with experience. What remains is the desire to feel sorry for oneself: we are not the only ones in dire straits, others are even worse off.

Another factor contributing to China's unfavorable image is that Chinese social media platforms have become internationalized. Tiktok, the Chinese-run platform for short videos that is extremely popular among young people around the world, is set to be banned in the United States for manipulation and data transfer on national security grounds if no American buyer is found. President Trump has granted Tiktok a one-month reprieve at the last minute.

When Tiktok shut itself down prematurely in protest, millions of American kids stormed the Chinese social media service provider Xiaohongshu ("little red book") within a few hours to vent their anger at the loss. Thanks to translation software, they were able to "accidentally" find out what the common Chinese blogger thinks of them beyond the harmonious appearance: "Go to hell."