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Little did wannabe warlord and catering magnate Yevgeny Prigozhin realize his short-lived mutiny would result in his demise, leaving behind a legacy—and admirers—far beyond Russia’s borders, particularly in China, where Prigozhin has become a cult figure on closely monitored social media.
Prigozhin’s following among top military bloggers on Weibo, one of the largest social media platforms in China, mirrors that in Russia. From Moscow to Beijing, Prigozhin is seen as the embodiment of a more vigorous and genuine patriotism, a man who prioritized the motherland’s interests over his own life. He is celebrated as a man of the people, despite the wealth he generated from the Wagner Group’s operations.
Little did wannabe warlord and catering magnate Yevgeny Prigozhin realize his short-lived mutiny would result in his demise, leaving behind a legacy—and admirers—far beyond Russia’s borders, particularly in China, where Prigozhin has become a cult figure on closely monitored social media.
Prigozhin’s following among top military bloggers on Weibo, one of the largest social media platforms in China, mirrors that in Russia. From Moscow to Beijing, Prigozhin is seen as the embodiment of a more vigorous and genuine patriotism, a man who prioritized the motherland’s interests over his own life. He is celebrated as a man of the people, despite the wealth he generated from the Wagner Group’s operations.
His blunt criticism of Russia’s top military leaders bolstered his image as a truth-teller willing to risk his life. This resonated in China, where a purge of top military officials in the People’s Liberation Army is underway due to accusations of corruption and of betraying the ideals of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).
Amid rising tension between Beijing and Washington, many Chinese military bloggers suspect U.S. involvement in Prigozhin’s death, despite there being no evidence of this. A poll on Weibo, limited to 1,000 respondents, showed a majority asserting that the United States orchestrated Prigozhin’s plane crash to incite civil war in Russia. A smaller number of voters pointed the finger at Russian President Vladimir Putin, stating that allowing Prigozhin to walk away unpunished could set a dangerous precedent.
Affection for the Wagner Group is seen by the CCP as a double-edged sword in online Chinese debate. On the one hand, it illustrates the need for empowered Chinese private security companies that protect Chinese citizens and infrastructure abroad. On the other hand, it raises the specter of heavily armed security professionals pursuing a domestic political agenda.
China’s leading security pundits—academics, former military officials, and amateur bloggers—are enamored by the Wagner Group’s bravado and attitude of getting things done no matter what. They argue that the current Chinese approach to the protection of Chinese interests overseas is passive and advocate for more assertive, Wagner-style tactics. The setbacks in counterterrorism operations in Mozambique and the recent slaughter of Wagner operators by Malian Tuareg rebels have largely gone unnoticed. Some bloggers, with several million followers each, see Wagner as the model for Chinese private security companies protecting Belt and Road projects and infrastructure across the globe in high-risk areas.
From Asia to Africa, Chinese overseas workers are facing rising threats, with kidnappings and deaths becoming more frequent. In March 2023, nine Chinese nationals were killed when gunmen attacked a mine in the Central African Republic. Just a year later, in March 2024, five Chinese engineers were killed in a suicide bombing in Pakistan, and another such attack occurred this month, leading Beijing to call for more security. Moreover, Chinese security bloggers’ praise of Prigozhin and his mercenaries as liberators who were a more effective fighting force than the Russian military in Ukraine amounts to a veiled stab at top managers of China’s military-industrial complex, who were fired for accepting bribes and producing low-quality military equipment.
Therefore, it appears likely that China’s strict social media filtering allows such commentary intentionally, as it aligns with the government’s agenda. However, the boundaries of acceptable online discourse can shift suddenly, posing a risk for bloggers if Beijing’s stance on Wagner or the military changes abruptly.
Registered by Weibo with their government-issued IDs and legally responsible for the blogs, the pundits and analysts reflect one strand of government thinking. China’s Great Firewall keeps references to Wagner focused on Ukraine, but the group’s activities in Africa and the Middle East are also mentioned.
Online Chinese discussion frames Wagner’s African operations as support for decolonization and the countering of the West’s neocolonial approach and influence on the continent—basically copy-pasting Russian rhetoric. One commentator, blaming France for turmoil in Mali, took the West to task by asserting that Wagner combats “terrorism and separatism and embodies humanism.” Another microblogger suggested that China would be better off having a Blackwater equivalent rather than a Wagner Group one because “reputation is more important than anything else” and Chinese nationals would not be allowed to perpetrate the kinds of atrocities attributed to the Russian group.
From a Western perspective, this situation may seem perplexing because Blackwater, following the Nisour Square massacre in Iraq, had a notoriously terrible reputation. However, in China, Erik Prince, the founder of Blackwater, partnered with the state-owned financial giant CITIC to establish the security company Frontier Services Group in Hong Kong. As a result, the widespread global outrage and discussions surrounding Blackwater employees’ killing of Iraqi civilians never reached the broader Chinese public.
The online discussions highlight the fork in the road in which China has to determine the future trajectory of its private security companies. Influential military bloggers with millions of followers see Wagner as a model for the Chinese military and private security industry. They argue that Beijing must develop more assertive companies capable of protecting overseas Chinese nationals and investments. At the same time, there is concern that private security personnel could become an armed, uncontrollable force when they return from overseas service.
This dichotomy between ambition and fear is reflected in the portrayal of Prigozhin as a cult figure in online debates. A nuanced reading reveals Chinese netizens’ concerns about and interests in the Russia-Ukraine war, highlighting several peculiarities. Notably, Prigozhin is seen in China more as a successful CEO than as a wannabe warlord or military strategist, as is often the case elsewhere.
The Chinese public tends to prefer a businesslike approach to the militarization of security functions. In China, rising from humble beginnings to become a billionaire, despite the CCP’s call for moderation, is often viewed as a sign of tactical acumen and shrewdness. Unlike in Russia—where bloggers focus on debating Prigozhin’s military strategies—in China, Prigozhin’s business success remains a key attraction for his followers.
Supporters of the Wagner model still perpetuate the group’s aura of invincibility. One blogger recalled Wagner rescuing Chinese miners in the Central African Republic in July 2023 at the request of the Chinese Embassy. The group found the miners in a forest and “provided them with food, shelter, and security protection” before escorting them to the capital. Chinese public opinion largely matches the view that is prevalent in the swath of land stretching from the Central African Republic to Niger, inundated by Russian propaganda and disinformation that makes no mention of mass slaughters and gender-based violence, and perceives Wagner mercenaries as liberators rather than oppressors.
In life, Prigozhin served Putin by keeping the military’s top brass in check. In death, the Prigozhin myth in Russia is a useful catalyst that directs anger at the military instead of the president and inspires future Wagner recruits. In China, even among Wagner’s biggest boosters, Putin’s description of Prigozhin as a “talented person” who “made serious mistakes in life” remains a warning for Chinese private security entrepreneurs not to cross the party’s red line.
Years ago, a similar debate erupted on Weibo, calling for reforms in China’s private security sector, inspired by the rise of Blackwater. These reforms never took shape—and they are unlikely to materialize now as envisioned by Wagner fans. Even with Wagner’s perceived success, the CCP guards its monopoly on force tightly, with the Maoist principle that the party must control the gun still firmly in place.
The myth of Prigozhin, even within China’s strict narrative control, serves a dual purpose: It fuels ambitions for a stronger, tightly regulated Chinese private security sector while also acting as a cautionary tale about the dangers of contractors turning on their own leaders.