Xi’s 68‑Question Marathon at the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Signals Beijing’s Push to Shape Historical Memory.

Zhu, who has guided countless dignitaries through the exhibits that document the six weeks of horror unleashed by Japanese forces in 1937, described the president’s interrogation as that of “the most professional and questioning viewer.” His remarks, relayed by the state news agency Xinhua and the Xin Hua Shidian WeChat account, painted a picture of a leader who was not merely a ceremonial guest but a deeply engaged participant in the act of remembrance.

The inquiry covered a wide spectrum of topics. Xi asked about the personal stories of survivors and the families of those who perished, urging Zhu to convey the human cost behind the stark numbers on the walls. He pressed for details on the tools of terror used by the invading troops, drawing a stark, if unsettling, parallel with the industrialized killing of Auschwitz. He also inquired about foreign nationals who risked their lives to aid Chinese civilians, specifically invoking the names of John Rabe and the lesser‑known German rescuer, W ¥tªlin—both recognized for sheltering thousands of refugees within the safety of the International Safety Zone.

The president’s line of questioning was not random. By spotlighting Rabe’s humanitarian efforts, Xi underscored a narrative that China’s tragedy was a global concern, one that attracted foreign compassion even as it suffered at the hands of invaders. The reference to Auschwitz, meanwhile, positioned the Nanjing Massacre within a broader discourse on wartime atrocities, a rhetorical move that adds weight to Beijing’s ongoing calls for historical accountability and reparations.

Beyond the historical specifics, Xi’s exhaustive interrogation sent a clear political signal. Visits to sites of national trauma have long been a staple of the Communist Party’s effort to reinforce a collective memory that underpins its legitimacy. By demanding detailed answers and extending his stay, Xi projected an image of an attentive, hands‑on leader who is personally invested in safeguarding the accuracy of that memory.

The meeting also included a brief but poignant encounter with surviving victims and relatives of those killed. Their presence, though limited in time, reinforced the human dimension that Xi seemed intent on foregrounding. For the survivors, the president’s sustained focus on their stories was a rare moment of recognition from the country’s most powerful figure.

The ripple effects of the visit have been swift. Museums and memorials across China have reported heightened scrutiny of their exhibitions, with administrators scrambling to ensure that narratives align closely with the party line as interpreted by the top leader. Funding for preservation and educational programs at the Nanjing Memorial has reportedly increased, as officials seek to turn the high‑profile attention into a lasting boost for the site’s research and outreach capabilities.

Scholars note that such visits serve a dual purpose: they cement the party’s ideological narrative while also offering a veneer of empathy for historical suffering. Xi’s 68‑question marathon, while ostensibly a personal curiosity, is read by many analysts as a deliberate reinforcement of a nationalist storyline that positions China as a victim of foreign aggression—an angle that continues to shape diplomatic rhetoric, school curricula, and public commemorations.

In the quiet corridors of the Nanjing Memorial, where photographs of emaciated civilians and piles of personal belongings evoke a stark, unvarnished past, the echo of Xi’s 68 questions now joins the chorus of voices that the hall has kept for nearly eight decades. Whether they will translate into deeper public understanding, policy shifts, or simply a reinforced message of remembrance remains to be seen. What is clear, however, is that the president’s marathon of inquiry has left an indelible imprint on the site, its staff, and the narrative of a tragedy that China continues to bring to the world’s attention.