​​​​​​​A Large-Scale Military–Civilian Clash Unfolds in Shanghai’s Hongkou District (Photos)

At around 9 a.m. on December 5, the “military–civilian battle” erupted at Lane 380, Guangling 2nd Road in Hongkou District, Shanghai. (Video screenshots)

[People News] At around 9 a.m. on December 5, 2025, Lane 380, Guangling 2nd Road in Hongkou District, Shanghai—a seemingly ordinary residential compound that carries both the glory and the vicissitudes of a Navy base family housing area—suddenly turned into an absurd “military–civilian battle” drama.

Videos spread across the internet like wildfire: Navy personnel in anti-riot gear, holding shields and batons, pushing violently against unarmed residents; elderly people lying in front of police vehicles, using their bodies as a “defensive line”; young residents shouting, “When soldiers break the law, they have the same crimes as civilians” and “Don’t become scapegoats for bad people.” The scene became chaotic, with even the risk of a stampede. Residents accused the soldiers of being “shameless,” while the soldiers advanced in a mechanical manner—as if an army that was supposed to protect the community had suddenly turned into an “invader.” This was not a movie scene but reality—a tragedy triggered by forced demolition, tearing apart the once close military–civilian relationship and exposing just the tip of the iceberg of the CCP’s violent stability-maintenance apparatus.

At around 9 a.m. on December 5, the “military–civilian battle” erupted at Lane 380, Guangling 2nd Road in Hongkou District, Shanghai. (Video screenshots)

At around 9 a.m. on December 5, the “military–civilian battle” erupted at Lane 380, Guangling 2nd Road in Hongkou District, Shanghai. (Video screenshots)

To dig deeper into the background of this incident, we must trace back through the history of this compound. Lane 380, Guangling 2nd Road was originally built in the 1950s–60s as a housing area for the families of Navy personnel stationed at the Shanghai base, covering nearly 100,000 square meters. Most residents are active-duty or retired military personnel and their families. It was once a model of “military–civilian integration”: surrounded by Fudan University dormitories and the Shuǐdiàn Road commercial area, and internally offering special military-family benefits such as priority medical services and subsidized property management. But in recent years, as Shanghai’s old-town redevelopment surged, this “iron rice bowl” community became a target. The Hongkou District “Guangling Road redevelopment project” was launched as early as 2023, with many old buildings nearby already demolished. The compensation standards, however, have been widely criticized—over 30% below market price, and the relocation housing far away and of poor quality. During the 2022 lockdown, the area was designated as a “prevention zone” and quickly subjected to strict controls. Residents’ resentment had already accumulated: forced quarantine and shortages of supplies made military families feel, for the first time, like “outsiders” on their own turf.

A deeper backdrop is the CCP’s institutional habit of “using the military against civilians.” The Navy base is under the Shanghai Garrison Command and is supposed to focus on national defense security, but it has been “requisitioned” for local stability-maintenance. Posts scattered across X (Twitter) indicate that in the week before the incident, there were already sporadic discussions of a “Hongkou military-family demolition hearing,” suggesting long-standing tensions. The “iron triangle” collusion of developers and officials was the fuse: residents suspected “bad actors are hiding behind this,” accusing authorities of arbitrarily tearing up compensation agreements—“Black and white written clearly, they signed it, and then they just tore it up. In the end, it still comes down to fists.”

This is not an isolated case. Similar conflicts have long plagued Shanghai: during the 2024 Shuǐdiàn Road area demolition, military families protested unfair compensation, leading to standoffs with police; earlier, after the 2010 “11·15” Jing’an fire, redevelopment accelerated under the pretext of “safety hazards,” resulting in a tragedy with 71 injured.

Hongkou District, as an old industrial region of Shanghai, carries remnants of the Cultural Revolution and the aftershocks of the “White Paper Movement.” Residents have long been numb to “over-control,” but this time the explosion happened at their doorsteps. December 5 fell at the end of “Work Safety Month,” and official “emergency drills” were used to reinforce stability-maintenance. The Navy anti-riot unit, originally intended for internal use, became a tool for clearing the area—this violates the spirit of the Law on the Protection of the Status and Rights of Service Members and mocks the principle of “the military does not interfere in politics.”

This clash is a cold reflection of the widespread harm of the CCP’s violent forced demolitions. On the surface, it is a demolition dispute; looking deeper, it is like a slow poison corroding multiple layers of society. First, economic plunder: poor compensation standards leave residents displaced overnight. Hongkou’s military families, once entitled to military-family benefits, were “harvested” by urban redevelopment—relocation housing is poor and remote, and with Shanghai’s 2025 CPI rising 5%, many families are pushed into poverty. Statistics show that over ten thousand rights-protection cases nationwide each year arise from forced demolitions causing poverty, with people’s life savings wiped out and retirement dreams shattered.

Second, personal safety and psychological trauma: in the video’s pushing and near-stampede moments, the elderly and children were most at risk. Forced demolition often comes with violent law enforcement: shield formations, swinging batons, even water-cannon trucks. The logic of “clearance by force,” reminiscent of June Fourth, is copied at the local level—tanks crushed protesters in Tiananmen in 1989; in 2025 Hongkou, soldiers “crushed” their own military families. Injury numbers may be underreported, but psychological harm runs deeper: residents shift from “trusting the military” to “seeing soldiers as enemies.” Trauma spreads across generations. Old veterans urging “young soldiers to take care of themselves” were met with cold mechanical advance—tearing the bond between military and civilians and breeding societal alienation.

Next, the collapse of social trust and institutional corruption: the CCP prioritizes stability-maintenance over rule of law; officials grab land for political achievements; the military becomes hired muscle like a “mafia.” In the Hongkou incident, residents shouted “catch the criminals,” pointing to corruption chains: developers bribing, officials shielding, soldiers taking the blame. Across the country, 90% of forced demolition cases involve corruption, leading to “black jails” and waves of petitioning.

This harms not only individuals but the nation: grassroots enforcers act with fear—“not enforcing is right-leaning; enforcing is left-leaning,” walking on thin ice. In the long term, it widens social fractures—post-pandemic discontent is like gunpowder; forced demolition is the spark. On X, #ShanghaiHongkouRepression# has exceeded 100,000 views, drawing international attention. If casualties are confirmed, it could become a new trigger for a “White Paper”-style movement.

Finally, political legitimacy erodes: the CCP claims to “serve the people,” yet responds to public sentiment with violence. This “military–civilian drama” is a mirror: revealing the falseness of “military–civilian integration” and the farce of “common prosperity.” The people shift from victims to awakened citizens; trust collapses, and the regime’s foundations wobble. What happened in one corner of Hongkou reflects the entire nation: forced demolition is not only the destruction of brick and mortar but a noose strangling hope.

To the soldiers and police who took part in this clash—you need to wake up. The residents lying on the ground are not weak but defending their last dignity; your shields are not symbols of honor but marks of shame. If the CCP does not reflect on its logic of violence, it will soon suffer the consequences. The Chinese people deserve a better home, not a battlefield where it’s you-die-I-live.

(Author’s X account)