Wild Lilies and Sunflowers: Taiwan's blossoming national identity through art

A small island nation separated from its original homeland by a narrow strait of 100 miles. A place with so much heart and soul for independence and freedom, yet not even recognized by the Free World. Taiwan is in jeopardy. As the People's Republic of China expands its reach beyond its borders and grips the rest of Asia, Taiwanese sovereignty remains in clear sight of the Chinese Communist Party. Yet, Taiwan has struggled with democracy itself, and in the wake of student-led democracy movements it's finally forging an identity of its own. When the Chinese nationalist Kuomintang (KMT) fled to Taiwan after their defeat during the Chinese Civil War, they established the Republic of China. Supposedly representative of a true democratic China, they imposed the same restrictions on civil society and democratic participation as their "counterpart" in the mainland.

Bans on opposition parties and indirect election of the President and Vice President through the National Assembly prevented the Taiwanese people from participating in their own government. That was until 1990, when a student-led movement for democracy led to the first true presidential election in Taiwan. What began as a peaceful sit-in protest in March blossomed into a movement of over 20,000 people demanding democratic reform. The ruling KMT bowed down to the demonstrators, and a series of reforms were implemented that resulted in the disbanding of the National Assembly in 1991 and an open presidential election in 1996 [1]. Under the Wild Lily Movement, Taiwanese democracy finally flourished, and in its wake so did its artists.

From the Dutch to the Japanese, Taiwanese identity was tied to powers deemed greater than itself through their willingness to plunder and control. Yet, identity does not die. It is innate in all people, and even in times of repression and violence it shines within us, knowing that it too will outlive its oppressors. Taiwan, both politically and through art, is finally getting the chance to define and share that identity with the world. Before the end of martial law in 1987, artistic expression was limited by the Taiwanese art establishment which, "implemented a staunch conservatism aimed at preserving traditional Chinese values and art forms to strengthen its position as the authoritative guardian of Chinese culture" [2]. When the United States stopped sending economic aid to Taiwan in 1965, a precursor to their eventual exclusion from the United Nations in 1971, art shifted its focus from representing China to form its own Taiwanese identity.

Taipei-based arts magazine Theater represented the transition to art movements focusing on what it means Taiwanese. Even in the digital age, art movements outside of the mainstream come alive in the world of print. From zines to Theater, the fluidity of words and the unimaginable limits of language provides artists with a means of radical expression that compliments the visual. Afterall, the visual is the presentation of the written word through the eye, not its rejection. Publications such as Theater broke down the strict dichotomy of Taiwanese identity. Instead of choosing to replicate the past through the preservation of traditional forms of Chinese art, Theater provided the foundation for the experimental and avant-garde to break ground, and in its wake empower the Taiwanese people to define the course of their nation by their own will.

Increased democratization in the country led to the rise of film movements tied to the political. The end of martial law in 1987 gave rise to "New Cinema" as filmmakers who studied abroad returned home to Taiwan [3]. Films like A City of Sadness (1989) directly addressed Taiwanese state repression and violence, depicting the 228 Incident in 1947 where the KMT massacred up to 28,000 Taiwanese citizens to quell dissent. A Brighter Summer Day (1991) showed the generational struggles between those who fled from mainland China to Taiwan in the 1940s and the new forms of national identity and belonging their children explored during the countercultural 1960s. Contemporary filmmakers, such as documentarian Diana Lee, even turn the camera back on Taiwan itself, exploring the ongoing fight for democracy and Taiwanese sovereignty through her 2020 project, Wild Lilies and Sunflowers: Democracy in Bloom.

Yet, as China's geopolitical position in the world grew larger, so too has its aggressiveness. What began in Hong Kong is becoming the possibility of tomorrow for Taiwan. With increasing military threat, the country is once again in peril. However, like never before, Taiwan is willing to stand on its own. Thanks to the past, present, and future work of artists and filmmakers, Taiwan continues to define a national identity that solidifies its place within Asia and the world. Even with the rising threat of China, Taiwan and its artists are no longer looking to be defined through an outside force. Rather, they are equipped and ready to forge their own future. One for Taiwan, by Taiwan.

Sources:

1. "Wild Lily Student Movement," OFTaiwan, https://oftaiwan.org/social-movements/wild-lily-student-movement/.

2. "So, We Performed: Theater and the Taiwanese Avant-Garde, 1965," Lesley Ma, ArtAsiaPacific, Issue 188, May/June 2014.

3. "Unit 4: Complexity of Taiwanese Identity Through Art," Vivian Lin, MAC 248: Transpacific Social Justice, September 21, 2020