The growth Chinese nationalism in cinema: Hero (2002) vs. Mulan (2020)

The concept of Chinese nationalism is not a recent development. The term Zhongguo or ‘Middle Kingdom’’ has its origins in the 3rd century CE and was used to denote the lands China occupied.[1] Sometimes translated as ‘all under heaven’, it separated Chinese citizens from the barbarians which surrounded them.[2] Since the Song era, China has developed a stronger form of nationalism that can now be seen in present day culture. This is especially true for the country’s cinema which has increasingly seen films being used for political messages. In order to show how this is the case, I will analyse Hero (2002) and the recent Mulan (2020).

Hero is a film directed by Zhang Yimou and centres on an assassination plot intended for the emperor. Through it’s uses of martial arts and prominent actors, it became a wild success both in Asia and the USA. At the end of the film, Zhongguo is an integral plot point. In order to prevent the emperor’s assassination, Broken Sword (Tony Leung Chiu-wai) uses this term to dissuade Nameless (Jet Li) from carrying out his mission. This ends up working as Nameless decides against the killing as he preaches a message of unity to the ruler whilst knowing this would mean his eventual death. This has a clear nationalist undertone ‘all under heaven’ encourages a China which is stronger as a united-state. Despite this apparent message, Zhang did not suggest the film was political. In an interview in 2004 he said,

 ‘The objective of any form of art is not political. I had not political intentions. I am not interested in politics.’[3]

Whilst this does not necessarily mean that the director was not intentionally leaving nationalism as a prevailing message in the film, it does show that it was a subtle approach. Whether accidental or not, the director does not openly suggest the purpose of the film was for political reasons nor involve himself in politics whatsoever.

This marks as a stark contrast from Disney’s Mulan (2020). First off, lead actress Liu Yifei openly supported Hong Kong police against the city’s protestors.[4] Then the film openly credits the help of the government agencies in Xinjiang where Uighur Muslims are currently being detained.[5] The film also removes itself from historical reality by placing the figure in Chinese territory despite the original poem suggesting she was a barbarian.

What is so striking with the difference of Mulan to Hero is the obvious political intent of the film. The lead actress is openly discussing her support of Chinese political actions and the film itself even thanks the government’s help. Whilst each movie clearly has a theme that centres around promoting nationalism, one is much more upfront and obvious about it than the other. The fact that Zhang steered clear about making comments on politics shows the lack of acknowledgement of the governments involvement or if it even took place at all. Mulan, on the other hand, is very clear in the fact that Chinese authorities had a large influence on how the film was made and how it would be promoted.

What this goes to show is a growing use of political messages in Chinese films that have become more apparent during the 21st century. Whilst it is not a new thing for Chinese cinema to have an undercurrent of propaganda, there has been an increasingly obvious change in how important this has become. Mulan demonstrates how Chinese cinema has become increasingly political and used for messages the government support instead of films getting made for the enjoyment of the viewer which I believe Hero is much more capable of doing.


[1] Wai-Yee Li, ‘Anecdotal Barbarians in Early China’ in Paul van Els and Sarah A. Queen (eds.) Between history and philosophy: anecdotes in early China (New York, 2017) pp. 113-5

[2] Nicolas Tackett, Origins of the Chinese Nation: Song China and the Forging of an East Asian World Order (Cambridge, 2017) p. 175

[3] https://www.theguardian.com/film/2004/dec/17/1 (accessed 26/11/20)

[4] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-china-49373276 (accessed 26/11/20)

[5] https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/the-new-mulanandnbsps-uncomfortable-relationship-with-chinas-past-and-present (accessed 26/11/20)

China and the ‘Other’: Chinese narratives in Taiwan textbooks

For thousands of years, China has been a powerful nation, emphasising its power over the ‘other’. The ‘Other’ refers to what China previously thought of as anyone just outside the central state, Zhongguo, that is ethnically and culturally different from them. According to David Schaberg, the idea of the ‘Other’ is incredibly useful for understanding Chinese historiography.1

Although most historians discuss the term of the ‘Other’ in the historical context of the Zhou dynasty and the interactions between kingdoms in the Zuozhuan (in the Chunqiu, the Spring and Autumn Annals).2 However, I believe this idea extends into the modern-day, especially regarding how China views Korea, Japan, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. I will discuss a brief history of Taiwan and its fight for independence from China. I will then highlight the controversy on whether China presents the idea of Taiwan as the ‘Other’ in Taiwan textbooks or whether Taiwan reverses this and views China as ‘the Other’ in an attempt to highlight their national history as independent from China.

Taiwan’s history is complex. However, to summarise Japan colonised Taiwan following the Sino-Japanese War in 1895. Japanese imperial education was implemented in this era. Shortly after World War II, Chiang Kai-Shek and the Chinese national government, the Republic of China (ROC) took control of Taiwan through the Kuomintang (KMT). In 1949, after losing the Chinese Civil War against the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), Chiang fled to Taiwan and declared martial law. The KMT governed Taiwan until the 1980s where the Taiwanese were striving for democratisation and indigenisation.3

Therefore, during the period of democratisation and indigenisation, many sought to construct a historical narrative that reflected Taiwan’s own national history (and thus, identity), that de-centred both China and Japan from the narrative. Wei-Chi Chen highlights certain controversies that were faced in Taiwan regarding history textbooks and the history curriculum. He argues that there were three distinct phases of textbook reforms starting in the late 1980s when criticisms against old textbooks started to emerge and ending in 2002, with the ‘nine-year integrated curriculum’.4 One particular textbook that caused bitter controversy was the supplementary history textbook, Getting to Know Taiwan in 1997.5 This textbook was a supplement to the official textbook, which was China-centred, it emphasised the KMT’s role in modernising Taiwan and the rapid economic development that followed.6 The Ministry of Education responded to the backlash it faced from the official textbook, such as it ‘lacking a comprehensive and multi-faceted representation of Taiwan’s history and culture’, and thus created Getting to Know Taiwan.7 However, Getting to Know Taiwan was still controversial because of its emphasis on Japanese colonial rule and its effect on Taiwan.6

Chen highlights the debate on whether China sees Taiwan as the ‘Other’, or whether Taiwan sees China as the ‘Other’. He argues that through these textbook reforms, it is apparent that the answer to this debate should be neither as ‘[these] two manifestly opposed national-history narratives are mutually dependent on each other’s existence’.8 I agree with this statement because I believe, in order for Taiwan to highlight a national narrative and a national identity, it must embrace its historical past, which was colonised by Japan and ruled over later by China (in its most recent history). After embracing this narrative, Taiwan can look towards a national identity that came from these events but moved towards democratisation.

  1. David Schaberg, A Patterned Past: Form and Thought in Early Chinese Historiography, (Massachusetts, 2001), p.130. []
  2. Ibid. pp. 130-135. []
  3. Wei-Chi Chen, ‘The History of an Alien-Nation, or the Alienation of History? The Controversy of History Textbook Reform in Taiwan in the 90s’ (PhD Thesis, New York University 2005), p. 91. []
  4. Ibid. p. 90. []
  5. Ibid. []
  6. Ibid. p. 93. [] []
  7. Ibid. p. 94. []
  8. Ibid. p. 97. []

A Comparison of Depictions of the Imperial Chinese Worldview: Ge and Wang

Both Zhaoguang Ge and Edward Wang discuss in their respective articles the development of the Chinese worldview throughout the imperial period. They both follow how China sees itself geographically and ethnically within Asia, and within the wider international system, as represented through historical writings from the pre-Qin era (pre-221 B.C.E.) to the Qing dynasty (1644-1911 A.D.).

Ge comments that the first stage of developing a Chinese ‘worldview’ in its traditional historiography takes place during the Han dynasty (206-220 B.C.E.). During this time, Sima Qian and the Shiji had great influence, but Ge argues almost all Han historians “failed to transcend their own ethnocentrism” (2020: 3), and perceptions of the world remained China-centred. Similarly to Ge, Wang highlights the China-focused, hierarchical early Chinese worldview that judged external peoples along their own moral and social lines (1999: 287). However, Wang further reveals that the relationship between the Han and non-Han peoples was complex; the efforts and input of both came together to form the Chinese worldview as it changed over time (1999: 289).

Ge argues that there were several opportunities throughout the history of China’s historiographical development for the acceptance of a wider ranging worldview. He claims it did not achieve this until the introduction of a global perspective in educational history textbooks in the late 19th century/early 20th century. Wang notes that in tracking developments in Chinese history and in demarcating this from the rest of the world, we often incorrectly assume that its present inhabitants are a “fixed entity” (1999: 286). Thus, he notes that in referring to the ‘Chinese’ or ‘Han’ people as an ethnic definition, we must refer to the flux of peoples who inhabited the areas surrounding the Yellow and Yangzi Rivers, and to its self-determining historical past (Wang 1999: 286-7). As opposed to Ge, who focuses China’s philosophical globalisation as occurring during the Qing dynasty, Wang emphasises the achievements of earlier dynasties, such as the Tang (618-907 A.D.) and the Mongol-Yuan (1279-1368 A.D.) dynasties.

In particular, Wang emphasises how the Tang dynasty was known in history for its “openness and flexibility in regard to the other,” and how this was due to its comprehensive culture that was able to encompass almost all ethnicities associated with the dynasty at the time (1999: 299). The Tang’s cosmopolitanism, for Wang, paved the way for a new global Chinese perspective. However, this was lost and replaced by traditional Han and non-Han dichotomies during the Song dynasty (960-1279 A.D.) due to the rise of non-Han powers in the north that challenged the Song’s culturalist approach (p. 300-301). Alternatively, according to Ge the first major transformation in Chinese global knowledge occurred during the Song dynasty (960-1279 A.D.) as a result of the introduction of Buddhism in the medieval period. This helped to develop the idea of territories outside of China consisting of ‘interior’ (close neighbours, named barbarian states) and ‘exterior’ (legitimate foreign powers). Ge argues that China began to think of itself as “among equals” internationally, making distinctions between the self and the other, distinguishing foreign states from barbarian states (2020: 6). Wang corroborates with Ge on this second point, suggesting a multistate worldview existed during the Song dynasty that represented Chinese identity as culturally, rather than ethnically, defined (1999: 302).

Ge emphasizes how the Mongol-Yuan dynasty (1279-1368 B.C.E.) facilitated a continuation of Song ideas and an introduction of a “quasi-global perspective,” but argues that they still placed the people that made up the Han and Tang empires as the central principle of how they observed the world (2020: 7-8). Wang alternatively states that during the Yuan dynasty, the Han ethnic people were “placed at the bottom of its social stratum,” which led to greater differentiation between the self and the other during the Ming dynasty (1368-1644 A.D.) (1999: 303).

However, it is interesting to note that Wang also highlights how – because of the way in which official dynastic histories were recorded, whereby the present empire is required to complete the histories of the previous one – the Ming needed to place themselves as legitimate successors of the Yuan. In doing this, they had to confirm that non-Han peoples could indeed influence the historical development of culture in China. Thus, the outer-periphery model of the Song was adapted to occur by “realpolitik arrangement,” rather than along ethnic lines (Wang 1999: 303).

Although Wang only touches on the developments of worldviews during the Qing period (1644-1911 A.D.) at the end of his article – arguing that the Qing defined China along its physical boundary established through military conquest (1999: 304) – Ge takes the Qing as the centre point of his article. Ge argues that the influence of Western powers and diplomatic pressures on China from outside colonial forces (Britain, Russia, etc.) indicated the need for an intrinsic change in how China thought of itself within the international system. Additionally, translation and publications of several Western written texts within China contributed to this change, as well as Chinese writers’ travelling experiences of foreign countries. China’s domestic and foreign policy came under pressure late in the Qing era, forcing a change in traditional ways of thinking about time and space. How China geographically fitted into this narrative altered its historical conceptions of the wider world (Ge 2020: 9-11).

Thus, although examining the imperial period using the same chronological markers, Ge and Wang’s articles differ in their discussion and opinion of each dynasty, and how the histories of these dynasties intersected with one another. Ge’s article focuses on the Qing dynasty as a final indicator of a globalised Chinese worldview, but only addresses this in his final few pages. Wang, however, explores the changes in this worldview much more theoretically, taking into consideration changes in spatial perceptions, as well as those of the Chinese ethnic identity as a whole.

Works cited:

Ge, Zhaoguang, ‘The Evolution of a World Consciousness in Traditional Chinese Historiography,’ Global Intellectual History, (16th March 2020): 1-19

Wang, Edward, ‘History, Space, and Ethnicity: The Chinese Worldview,’ Journal of World History, Vol. 10, No. 2 (1999): 285-305

Speeches in the Zuozhuan

Paul R. Goldin highlighted a passage from the Zuozhuan in his article. He presents a tale between a “harsh and thoughtless ruler” and his more benevolent and moral cousin. This passage from the Zuozhuan emphasises the didactic function of speeches and anecdotes typical in the Spring and Autumn Annals (Chunqiu), particularly in this commentary.1

David Schaberg’s chapter of ‘The Rhetoric of Good Order’ in his book A Patterned Past emphasises the role of speeches as a form of historiographical work in the Eastern Zhou period and Warring States period. He argues that speeches reveal a didactic objective and a persuasive function, and it opens a philosophical debate. Moreover, he argues that speeches have a morphable quality to them as one can extract them from the narrative to highlight a moral debate.

In the tale Goldin presents between the Marquis of Jin (the “immoral” one) and Lord Mu of Qin (the “moral” one), the dialogue and speech from each speaker emphasises its persuasive function and reveals a broader “truth” between the social situation and history of the states of Jin and Qin. The “rhetoric of good order” in this passage – meaning the order of the prose reveals a more extensive truth about the history of the era – emphasises a conflicting relationship between the two states and its personified between the two rulers.2

Qing Zheng said, “In ancient times, one would always use [horses] produced by one’s own country in great matters. They are native to the waters and lands and know their people’s minds; they are easily instructed and are accustomed to the roads… Now you use [horses] produced by a different country to carry out warlike affairs; once they become frightened, they will be changeable and will defy their drivers.…They will not be able to advance, retreat, or turn around. Lord, you will certainly regret this.” [The ruler of Jin] did not heed him.3

This speech in this narrative tells us of advice given to the ruler of Jin regarding warfare planning. This speech is important because it emphasises the arrogance of the Marquis of Jin, who dismissed this vital warning. Later in the narrative, we see that his arrogant nature becomes his downfall as Qin forces then capture him. Furthermore, this speech (and the larger narrative) acts as a persuasive tool to the reader because it has clearly stated judgements and principles, repetition of essential structures and concepts such as the validity of using the State horses, in comparison to using another State’s horses, as well as the arrangement of diction. All these persuasive tools are vital for good rhetoric, Schaberg argues.4 Moreover, this speech could perhaps also have a portable quality to them as this advice explains warfare strategy, possibly applicable to any ruler, as well as highlighting that rulers should heed the warnings from their advisors and be less arrogant.

Thus, speeches provide a didactic and persuasive function to the reader as the structure of the prose ultimately reveals a moral objective and judgement. The judgement and principles in the example above illuminate an arrogant leader, which proved to be his downfall, and therefore explains to the reader that the victorious leader and ruler is one of benevolence and justice. This passage is just one example of how the Zuozhuan can act as a moral compass for rulers and others reading the commentary.

  1. Paul R. Goldin, ‘The World of the Zuozhuan’, in Victor H. Mair, Nancy S. Steinhardt and Paul R. Goldin (eds.), Hawaii Reader in Traditional Chinese Culture (Honolulu, 2005), p. 72. []
  2. David Schaberg, ‘The Rhetoric of Good Order’, A Patterned Past: Form and Thought in Early Chinese Historiography (Massachusetts, 2001), p.26. []
  3. Goldin, ‘Zuozhuan’, p. 74. []
  4. Schaberg, A Patterned Past, pp. 43-48. []