Many people think that during the height of pro-democracy student movements in the 1980s and 1990s, musicians played a part in the protests. However, the truth is, only a handful of musicians were willing to stand up for the cause at the time.
In an era in which one ethnic group dominated the cultural and entertainment propaganda machine and monopolized the right to expression in music, most musicians in Taiwan chose to cooperate with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) government by self-censoring their ideology and works, distancing themselves as much as they could from the democratic movement that was taking place on the streets and campuses.
Anyone who participated in the pro-democracy movements is very likely to remember that the songs used to boost morale when parading on the streets in protests were a few sad, old Taiwanese songs, such as Bang Chhun-hong (望春風, Longing for the Spring Breeze), Hope You Come Back Soon (望你早歸) and My Hometown under the Sunset (黃昏的故鄉). Young people on campuses could only seek nourishment from the protest songs from the 1960s in the West to nurture the spirit of resistance.
It is often said that music can give one strength and tear down walls. However, most Taiwanese musicians chose to remain silent in that era.
Chiu Chen (邱晨), who passed away on Thursday last week at the age of 72, was one of the few exceptions. He was not only personally involved in the pro-democracy movements, he also wrote songs for them.
In most of the obituaries about Chiu, media coverage focused on the well-known Taiwanese campus folk songs that he wrote, such as Little Jasmine (小茉莉), The Wind Tells Me (風告訴我), as well as popular hits like It’s Tonight (就在今夜) and Why Did I Dream of Him? (為何夢見他). Unfortunately, the songs Chiu wrote during the Taiwanese democracy movement in the 1980s and 1990s were rarely mentioned.
These songs include The Green Flag Raised to the Sky (綠色旗升上天) in support of the Democratic Progressive Party, Taiwan’s first political party to rally forces outside the governing KMT; Taiwan’s first reportage-inspired music album, Tefuye (特富野), which voices support for an indigenous young man, Tang Ying-shen (湯英伸); the Big Banyan Tree in the South (南國的大榕樹), written in memory of Deng Nan-jung (鄭南榕), who set himself on fire in support of freedom of speech; and Crossing the Bridge (過橋), a satirical death song on the so-called “10,000-year legislature” (萬年國會) that he wrote for the Wild Lily student movement, in which I was personally involved.
It can be said that, apart from Chen Ming-chang’s (陳明章) Blacklist Studio (黑名單工作室), Chiu was one of the very few musicians who supported the Wild Lily student movement through music at the time.
In the long history of the world, music, like other forms of entertainment and art, has also played a part in creating countless moving moments in the human rights, democracy and independence movements.
Musicians have incredible power in driving the development of civilization.
May Chiu rest in peace. Hopefully, the music he composed for Taiwan’s democracy movement will still be sung by many generations to come.
Vincent Chen is a manager in the information and communications industry, and former publicity section convener of the Wild Lily student movement.
Translated by Lin Lee-kai
US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) were born under the sign of Gemini. Geminis are known for their intelligence, creativity, adaptability and flexibility. It is unlikely, then, that the trade conflict between the US and China would escalate into a catastrophic collision. It is more probable that both sides would seek a way to de-escalate, paving the way for a Trump-Xi summit that allows the global economy some breathing room. Practically speaking, China and the US have vulnerabilities, and a prolonged trade war would be damaging for both. In the US, the electoral system means that public opinion
They did it again. For the whole world to see: an image of a Taiwan flag crushed by an industrial press, and the horrifying warning that “it’s closer than you think.” All with the seal of authenticity that only a reputable international media outlet can give. The Economist turned what looks like a pastiche of a poster for a grim horror movie into a truth everyone can digest, accept, and use to support exactly the opinion China wants you to have: It is over and done, Taiwan is doomed. Four years after inaccurately naming Taiwan the most dangerous place on
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.