「易力声大罢工结束：被国家机器与资本联合绞杀的“人矿”（2025.12.11-12）」
12月12日，广东深圳宝安区易力声工厂，随着最后一批工人无奈地走入工厂打卡复工，这场持续了八天、一度有三千人参与的大罢工宣告结束。正如这片土地上无数次发生的劳工抗争一样，这场起因于抵制变相裁员、牵动了海内外目光的集体行动，最终在强大的国家机器与资本利益的联合绞杀下，以工人的失败而告终。
工人被中共与资本联合绞杀
罢工的最后几天，工人们面临的压力达到了顶点。这股压力不再仅仅是经济上的窘迫，而是来自资方赤裸裸的威胁和公权力全方位的介入。12月10日，易力声公司发布了一份措辞严厉的“最后通碟”——《关于限期返岗复工及逾期处理决定的通知》。资方撕下了“管理人性化原则”的面具，挥舞起“开除”的大棒。通知明确声称，连续旷工超过三日或累计四日者将按自动离职处理，且不予任何经济补偿。为了彻底击溃工人的心理防线，公司还祭出了“胡萝卜加大棒”的策略：声明对于在12月12日13:30前“浪子回头”按时复工的员工，公司将“既往不咎”，其此前的缺勤不视同旷工。这一分化瓦解的策略很快奏效，工人们纷纷选择了妥协。
与此同时，中共开动国家机器，充当了资方最强有力的打手。首先，当局对工人们的发声通道实施了严密的封锁，在网络空间，工人们发现，他们的信息已经无法在几大社交平台上发出，过往的信息也已被删除一空。在舆论层面，没有任何中国媒体报道真相，试图接近现场的外媒记者也被“劝离”，工人彻底被孤立。在现实中，当局除了出动大量的警察在工厂门口拦截工人，抓捕工人，将工人关进所谓的“关爱职工”小屋限制人身自由外。还派遣警察和政府人员进入工人家中以及厂区，以“反诈普法”为名对工人进行威胁、恫吓，警告他们不得继续参与罢工。
最终，在中共与易力声的联合绞杀下，参与罢工的工人月来越少，到11日，仅有数十名工人还在工厂门口坚持。12日，在最后通牒的期限来临之前，这部分坚持到最后的工人，也被迫选择了放弃，罢工宣告结束。
失败后的工人：感到耻辱
在工人们的一个名为“坚持就是胜利”的维权微信群里，气氛沉重而压抑。这个群名在残酷的现实面前显得无比讽刺——在中国，坚持很多时候并不意味着胜利，从李旺阳到刘晓波，从高智晟到王炳章再到张展，从新疆到西藏再到香港，无数坚持者等来的往往是漫长的牢狱甚至死亡。
绝大部分工人对结果感到极度沮丧，一种深深的无力感和耻辱感在蔓延。有工人痛苦地表示：“搞了一个星期，每天早出晚归，还一分钱没有，倒贴上班，想想就不甘心。”还有工人对失败感到羞耻：“我抖音十几万粉丝都差不多知道我是易力声的，也知道我参与了，妈的，以后抖音都不敢发了。”
一位工人道出了大家的心声：“经历了这件事后，终于知道什么叫弱势群体的无助。”对于被迫复工，有人感叹：“不是怕损失，是心理得有承受能力，我感觉太折磨了，有时不是较真，而是为自己讨个公道。我被折磨的已经放弃了。”
面对失败，工人们只能互相打气：“至少我们努力坚持了，我们很优秀了。”更有工人直言：“人家偷猪脚都不丢脸，我们这样又不偷，又不抢，怕什么！”
中资与外资的反差更令工人心寒
就在不久前，同样位于珠三角的日资企业佳能在关闭工厂时，为被裁员工提供了高达2.3至2.5N+1的超额经济补偿。而作为中资企业的华勤技术在接手易力声后，不仅隐瞒股权变更事实，更企图通过“五天八小时”的手段变相裁员，以逃避最基本的法定赔偿。这一对比，进一步加深了工人们心中的寒意。
为什么中国工人的罢工注定艰难
易力声工人在没有外部支援的情况下坚持了整整八天，甚至一度通过集体行动迫使警方释放被捕工友，这已属不易。最终的失败，并非仅仅因为工人不够团结或策略失误，而是当前的制度所致，这是一场力量过于悬殊的对抗。
1.独立工会的缺失：由于中共政权明确不允许任何独立于党控制之外的工会组织存在，名义上的官方工会在劳资冲突中，往往扮演着维稳者甚至资方帮凶的角色。这就导致了工人在面对组织严密的资方和强大的国家机器时，一开始就处于绝对的劣势。在易力声罢工中，我们看到工人始终处于原子化的状态。他们无法选举出真正代表自己利益的谈判代表，无法形成统一的诉求，更无法进行持久的组织化动员。
2. 政权与资本共谋的“人矿”模式：在此次事件中，当局迅速而坚决地动用警力镇压维权工人，站队资方，这绝非偶然。中国“世界工厂”的崛起，本就建立在对数亿廉价劳动力——即所谓“人矿”——的极端压榨之上。为了维系这一模式，中共需要压低劳动力成本，确保“低人权优势”的投资环境。因此，一旦工人的维权行动危及这一模式，自诩为“工人阶级先锋队”的中共政权，便会毫不犹豫地撕下面纱，动用专政机器扑灭反抗。
如今，易力声大罢工的硝烟已经散去，工人们带着疲惫和伤痕重新回到了流水线。在中共政权现有的体制下，绝大多数类似的底层抗争，注定难以逃脱失败的宿命。但失败并非毫无意义。八天的坚持，是三千名劳动者对命运不公发出的怒吼，是作为“人”在被异化为机器零件时，出于本能的一次悲壮反抗。它再次撕开了“盛世”的表象，将中国经济奇迹背后那鲜血淋漓的劳工血泪，残酷地展现在世人面前。
“Yilisheng General Strike Ends: ‘Human Mine’ Jointly Crushed by State and Capital (Dec 11–12, 2025)”
On December 12, at the Yilisheng factory in Bao’an District, Shenzhen, Guangdong, the last batch of workers reluctantly clocked in and returned to work, marking the end of an eight-day general strike that had involved as many as 3,000 participants. Like countless labor struggles on this land, this collective action—sparked by resistance to disguised layoffs and attracting attention both domestically and internationally—ultimately ended in failure under the joint crushing force of the powerful state machinery and capital interests.
Workers Crushed by the CCP and Capital
In the final days of the strike, the pressure on the workers reached its peak. This pressure was no longer merely economic hardship but included naked threats from management and comprehensive intervention by state authorities. On December 10, Yilisheng issued a sharply worded “final notice”—Decision on Deadline for Returning to Work and Handling of Overdue Cases. Management tore off the mask of “humane management” and wielded the stick of dismissal. The notice explicitly stated that employees who were absent for more than three consecutive days, or a total of four days, would be treated as having resigned voluntarily, with no economic compensation.
To completely break the workers’ morale, the company also employed a “carrot and stick” approach: those who returned to work on time by 13:30 on December 12 would have their past absences forgiven. This divisive tactic quickly worked, and many workers chose to compromise.
Meanwhile, the CCP mobilized state machinery to act as the strongest enforcer for the company. Workers’ channels of communication were strictly blocked; online, they found that their messages could no longer be posted on major social media platforms, and previous posts had been deleted. In terms of media coverage, no Chinese outlets reported the truth, and foreign journalists attempting to reach the scene were “persuaded to leave,” leaving workers completely isolated. On the ground, authorities deployed large numbers of police at factory entrances to intercept and arrest workers, confining them in so-called “employee care” rooms that restricted their freedom. Police and government personnel also visited workers’ homes and the factory under the guise of “anti-fraud legal education,” threatening and intimidating them not to continue participating in the strike.
Ultimately, under the joint crushing of the CCP and Yilisheng, the number of striking workers dwindled day by day. By December 11, only a few dozen workers remained outside the factory gates. On the 12th, before the deadline of the final notice, these last strikers were forced to give up, and the strike was officially over.
Workers After the Defeat: Feeling Humiliated
In a workers’ rights WeChat group ironically named “Persistence is Victory,” the atmosphere was heavy and oppressive. The group name now seemed tragically ironic—in China, persistence often does not equal victory. From Li Wangyang to Liu Xiaobo, from Gao Zhisheng to Wang Bingzhang to Zhang Zhan, from Xinjiang to Tibet to Hong Kong, countless persistent individuals have faced long imprisonment or even death.
Most workers expressed extreme frustration, with a deep sense of powerlessness and shame spreading among them. One worker lamented, “We’ve been at it for a week, working early and late every day, yet we haven’t earned a cent and even had to spend our own money to get to work. It’s infuriating.” Another expressed shame over the failure: “Almost all my TikTok followers know I’m from Yilisheng and that I participated. Damn it, now I don’t dare post on TikTok anymore.”
One worker voiced what many felt: “After this experience, I finally understood what it means to be helpless as a vulnerable group.” Regarding being forced to return to work, another said, “It’s not that I fear loss, it’s that you need the psychological endurance. It’s torturing—sometimes it’s not about being right, it’s about seeking justice for yourself. I’ve been tortured into giving up.”
In the face of defeat, workers could only encourage each other: “At least we tried our best and held on. That’s already something to be proud of.” Some bluntly remarked, “Those who steal pigs’ feet don’t feel ashamed—what are we afraid of, we neither steal nor rob!”
The Contrast Between Chinese and Foreign Capital Chills Workers
Not long ago, Japanese company Canon, also in the Pearl River Delta, provided employees being laid off with a generous severance of 2.3 to 2.5N+1 upon factory closure. In contrast, as a Chinese-owned company, Huaqin Technology, after taking over Yilisheng, not only concealed the change in ownership but also attempted to implement disguised layoffs via “five days, eight hours” to evade basic statutory compensation. This contrast deepened workers’ sense of bitterness.
Why Strikes Are Doomed for Chinese Workers
Yilisheng workers persisted for eight full days without external support and even managed, for a time, to force the police to release arrested colleagues—an achievement in itself. Their ultimate defeat, however, was not merely due to a lack of solidarity or strategic errors, but the result of the current system: a confrontation with an overwhelming power imbalance.
- Absence of Independent Unions: The CCP explicitly forbids any unions independent of party control. Official unions, in labor conflicts, often act as stabilizers or even as enforcers for management. This left workers at an absolute disadvantage from the outset when facing a well-organized employer backed by the state. During the Yilisheng strike, workers remained atomized: they could not elect representatives truly advocating their interests, could not form unified demands, and could not sustain organized mobilization.
- The “Human Mine” Model: Collusion Between State and Capital: In this event, authorities quickly and decisively deployed police to suppress striking workers, taking the side of management—a deliberate choice. China’s rise as the “world’s factory” has long been built on the extreme exploitation of hundreds of millions of cheap laborers—the so-called “human mines.” To maintain this model, the CCP needs to keep labor costs low and ensure an investment environment with “low human-rights costs.” Consequently, when workers’ actions threaten this model, the CCP, claiming to be the “vanguard of the working class,” will unhesitatingly unveil its authoritarian machinery to crush dissent.
Today, the smoke of the Yilisheng general strike has cleared, and workers have returned to the assembly lines, exhausted and scarred. Under the current CCP system, most grassroots struggles like this are doomed to fail. Yet failure is not meaningless. Eight days of persistence represent the outcry of 3,000 laborers against an unjust fate—a tragic act of human resistance when turned into mere machine parts. It once again tears open the veneer of the “prosperous era,” brutally exposing the blood and tears of laborers behind China’s economic miracle to the world.