English version (from a reply to the top comment on reddit):

Not OP, but here's a deepl translation:

No doctorate because of a tweet: This is how far China's influence on Swiss universities extends A Swiss doctoral student tweets critically about China. Afterwards, his professor at the University of St. Gallen wants nothing more to do with him - she fears she will no longer get a visa.

When Oliver Gerber* first hears that his tweets could cost him his future doctorate, he is sitting in his old childhood bedroom. It's March 28, 2020, 9:50 p.m. Gerber's mailbox receives an e-mail from his supervisor at the University of St. Gallen (HSG). Subject: "Very urgent: complaint from China about your Twitter."

Gerber clicks on the e-mail on his smartphone. The professor writes that she has received "excited mails from China." Gerber is spreading "neo-Nazi-like content" on Twitter. This is dangerous, even for her: "In the end, even I may not be able to get a visa for China because of you. That is decidedly going too far and I would have to end our mentoring relationship." She said he should immediately moderate his political language in public. She has "no desire to receive such mails because of one of my doctoral students."

Oliver Gerber has to read the message twice. He has been tweeting for ten days, with less than ten people following him. Sure, he has sharply criticized the Chinese government. For example, on March 21, he posted in English, "The Chinese Communist Party made the fight against Covid-19 Plan B. This would only come to fruition if Plan A - cover-up - failed. This is how paranoid cowards act. They have earned neither my respect nor my gratitude. #ChinaLiedPeopleDied".

That's supposed to be "neo-Nazi-like" content? Gerber believes it's a misunderstanding. He answers at 11 p.m., wants to know from whom the "excited mails from China" originate. He asks if his professor even read the tweets. And he accuses her of having "fallen for the increasingly aggressive Chinese censorship." Nevertheless, he deactivates his Twitter account.

Oliver Gerber hears nothing more for almost 48 hours. Then the professor gets in touch again. Her tone is distant, she does not respond to Gerber's questions. She puts the second supervisor of the thesis in copy and writes that she wishes him good luck with his "Chinese studies". And further: there "is no supervisory relationship between you and us."

It is the last e-mail Gerber will receive on his HSG account. The next day, he no longer has access to the messages. An IT technician tells him on the phone that his account doesn't even exist. Gerber says, "It felt like I was eliminated overnight."

Education is central to China's global power strategy. The Chinese government wants to control the image the world has of the country. To do so, it exerts influence abroad - and does not shy away from repression. At the beginning of the year, the Chinese Foreign Ministry banned all researchers from the largest research institute in Europe specializing in China from entering the country. Such demonstrations of power intimidate researchers around the world - especially if they rely on traveling to China for work. This can lead them to preemptively avoid critical topics.

Cooperation between Swiss and Chinese universities is close, with over fifty cooperation agreements now in place. Swiss scientists benefit from stays abroad and can access large amounts of data in research, for example, to develop cancer therapies. But what is the price of this cooperation?

There are only a few people in Switzerland who disclose and criticize attempts of Chinese influence on universities. Oliver Gerber's case, however, shows that China's aggressive foreign policy can influence how scientists in Switzerland express themselves publicly and how they deal with critical votes from their students. It shows that some scientists are willing to restrict themselves and others in order not to anger China.

Oliver Gerber's name is actually different. Because his partner's family lives in China and expects repression if his name appears in the newspaper, he wants to remain anonymous. For this reason, the professor is also not mentioned by name. The NZZ has spoken to both sides.

Gerber accuses the HSG of kicking him out because of his critical tweets. The NZZ has copies of these tweets as well as Gerber's correspondence with the professor and other HSG representatives. They largely support the former doctoral student's position. However, the University of St. Gallen insists on a different version: Gerber had decided himself not to study at the HSG anymore.

How does the HSG justify this? From whom did the professor receive the "excited emails from China"? And what does this mean for freedom of opinion and research in Switzerland?

The background Oliver Gerber has a background in science, and you can tell by the way he tells his story: structured, meticulously documented, and with distance. As if it had all happened to someone else.

The fact that the events nonetheless preoccupy him greatly is evident from how often he repeats, "I can't believe that something like this happened in Switzerland." His three-year research effort: destroyed because of a tweet.

In spring 2017, Gerber will begin his doctoral studies at the HSG. He is researching environmental pollution. His topic is sensitive for China, yet it is clear to Gerber early on: he wants to understand the country, wants to do research on the ground and not from his desk in St. Gallen. He applies for scholarships and is supported by his supervisor. In the letter of recommendation, she writes: "He is capable of pursuing a high-profile research career."

Gerber is awarded a Chinese government fellowship at a university in Wuhan - for three years, instead of just one as originally planned. He flies to Wuhan in September 2018, quickly making friends and falling in love.

A Chinese professor finds his doctoral topic "boring" - a euphemism for too critical of the government. He also has to attend classes for his scholarship and can't believe how much censorship shapes everyday university life. When he submits an essay on re-education camps, he receives the lowest grade. In an e-mail to his professor in St. Gallen, he writes: "Maybe I just had bad luck."

How China is making an impact through education China has become a popular destination for students from around the world before the pandemic. In 2018, their number was nearly half a million. Just under 13 percent received scholarships from the Chinese government. To do so, China specifically selects students from countries where it has political interests.

China's economy is growing rapidly. In terms of foreign policy, the country is becoming increasingly aggressive. Western media constantly report on human rights violations such as the prison camps in Xinjiang. All of this raises fears about China. The government is aware of this.

But it also knows that China's history fascinates many. That's why China created the Confucius Institutes. There are more than 500 of them worldwide, in over 150 countries. Located on the campuses of foreign universities, the institutes are designed to teach Chinese language and culture. They are under the control of the Chinese Ministry of Education, which provides staff and funds. In Switzerland, there is only one such institute, at the University of Geneva. The second was located at the University of Basel and closed last fall.

In the United States, too, one in four Confucius Institutes has been shut down in recent years. Universities no longer wanted to lend legitimacy to an institution that defended fundamentally different values. Whereas in the West freedom of research and freedom of expression are important basic principles, education in China has become highly politicized under the rule of state and party leader Xi Jinping. For example, the prestigious Fudan University in Shanghai has replaced the term freedom of expression in its statutes with "Xi Jinping's socialist ideology."

The momentous decision Oliver Gerber flies back to Switzerland shortly before Christmas 2019, originally planning only a short family visit. But then the coronavirus pandemic breaks out. On January 23, a strict lockdown is imposed on Wuhan. Gerber stays in Switzerland. He begins to think about what to do after his doctorate. His girlfriend advises him to network on social media.

Before Gerber opens a Twitter account, he seeks advice from his professor because he knows she is active on the social network. He asks via email: "Are you engaging in some degree of self-censorship? Do you think it would be too dangerous for me to open a Twitter account?"

Although he receives no reply, he begins tweeting in mid-March. At that time, China is in focus as the site of the Corona pandemic outbreak. Gerber sees his opportunity to position himself as a China expert. At the same time, he is also emotionally taken by what is happening in Wuhan - the city he wants to return to, where he has friends and a partner. His Twitter channel becomes an outlet: he criticizes the Chinese government's initial cover-up of the Corona epidemic, the repression in Xinjiang, and Xi Jinping.

When his girlfriend sees some of the tweets, she is shocked. She asks him on the phone to stop. Not because she disagrees with everything. But because she is afraid of repression from the Chinese government. "I'm in Switzerland, not China," he replies. "Here I can say what I want."