By 1970, US commanders in Vietnam were optimistic that they had “functionally severed” North Vietnamese forces.
The generals were particularly boastful about their taking out the Ho Chi Minh Trail—a sprawling network of roads, footpaths, and tunnels through Laos and Cambodia that let North Vietnamese forces move troops and supplies into South Vietnam, bypassing the fortified border.
After bombing it into oblivion, a senior US Air Force general declared, “Gentlemen, what we have here is the end of North Vietnam as a viable fighting power.”
Unfortunately, the ‘experts’ were wrong again.
Only weeks after declaring victory, US forces found themselves locked in a brutal and unexpected battle at Fire Support Base Ripcord— a base the US was constructing as a launchpad for future operations.
The North Vietnamese brought in artillery, mortars, rockets, anti-aircraft weapons, and wave after wave of ground troops. All of that firepower, manpower, and ammunition moved hundreds of miles through dense jungle terrain, across borders, and into South Vietnam—right under the nose of US airpower that had supposedly rendered the the Ho Chi Minh Trail defunct.
Their ability to move silently helped the Viet Cong guerrillas wage a shadow war of ambushes, sabotage, and infiltration—blending into the population by day and striking by night.
The Viet Cong’s psychological victories eroded US public support. Morale among American troops declined, and political dissent at home surged.
US troops at Fire Support Base Ripcord held out for nearly a month under constant bombardment and ground assaults. But by late July, with casualties mounting, the last Americans were airlifted out under enemy fire.
It was a scene that foreshadowed what would play out in Saigon just a few years later as the US abandoned the war.
And it was through the use of these guerrilla tactics— Distract. Disrupt. Discourage. Dismay.— that a substantially weaker force was able to defeat a much more powerful army.
China is starting to do the same thing in this economic war with the United States. And they’re targeting America’s youth.
For example, TikTok’s ‘Blackout Challenge’ encourages the app’s young users to asphyxiate themselves until they lose consciousness, which led to the death of a 13-year old California boy in February of this year.
A 15-year old in Oklahoma died from the ‘Benadryl Challenge’. Concussions and other serious injuries have resulted from the ‘Skullbreaker Challenge’ where kids ‘prank’ others by kicking their legs out from under them as they jump.
Curiously, Chinese teens haven’t succumbed to the same contests. Instead, viral math problems challenging users’ problem-solving skills regularly trend on Douyin, China’s version of TikTok.
One popular influencer is a 12-year-old girl who has gone viral for teaching college-level math, explaining complex problems in a simplified manner.
Last week, we got another look at how TikTok figures into China’s guerrilla economic warfare arsenal.
Chinese influencers began pointing American consumers toward a new app: DHgate— a Beijing-based e-commerce platform that sells items directly from the Chinese factories which manufacture brand-name goods.
Their pitch: why pay $120 for name-brand yoga pants when the same exact item, just without a brand label, can be yours for $15?
Within days, DHgate exploded in popularity—climbing to the #2 spot on Apple’s App Store in the US, just behind Temu (another Chinese-owned e-commerce app) and ahead of ChatGPT.
Yoga pants, handbags, sunglasses, sneakers, you name it—products stripped of their logos and exposed for what they are: glorified drop-shipped Chinese goods with a 700% markup.
Of course, the sudden surge in popularity wasn’t organic; it was orchestrated. Chinese influencers produced videos explaining how major Western brands were bilking their consumers and outsourcing production to these very same factories.
TikTok made sure those videos went viral in the US.
Even 145% tariffs would only push the price of $15 yoga pants up to $36.75— still much less expensive than buying from Lululemon.
China’s guerrilla strategy is clear: They want US consumers to question who is the enemy— the ones selling you affordable clothing, or the ones increasing your cost of living?
This drives a wedge between consumers and the US government— why would my government prevent me from buying affordable goods? Tariffs could quickly become as unpopular among Americans as the Vietnam War was in the 1960s.
China is weaponizing TikTok to turn US consumers against the government… and against major US brands.
They pulled back the curtain on how the economy really makes the sausage—exposing that a $2,000 handbag comes from the same factory, made of the same materials, with the same quality stitching as the $40 knockoff. Americans are paying thousands for a label, not for a superior product.
You can bet that all the data that has been gathered from TikTok has been sent back to the mothership to be analyzed and weaponized. China clearly understands how to use that information for marketing and messaging in ways that could give them a huge edge in the escalating economic warfare.
American consumers may quickly feel that China is not the enemy robbing them blind; instead, they may view China as the ones offering a better deal.
The US government, on the other hand, suddenly looks like the bad guy for keeping prices high and products out of reach.
And this is just the beginning.
What happens when a billion-dollar marketing machine—fueled by foreign data, run through a CCP-influenced algorithm, and distributed on the most addictive app in the world—starts targeting not just consumer wallets, but the foundations of America’s consumer-centric economy?
An erosion of trust in American brands. A growing resentment toward US trade policy. A subtle, creeping, deliberate narrative that China gives you value, while your own government gives you inflation.
This is now the guerrilla phase of the economic war.
