I was born in the 1960s. When I was growing up, there was no such thing as a New Year’s Eve celebration in Taiwan to mark the change from the end of the previous year to a new year in the solar calendar. New Year’s Day was celebrated as the anniversary of the founding of the Republic of China (ROC), a holiday lasting two days.
The government would often organize activities to celebrate the ROC’s founding, holding commemorative events such as flag-raising ceremonies and parades that even included the chanting of slogans to express citizens’ patriotism.
The grandest celebrations our generation attended were rallies for the limited elections organized by members of the dangwai (黨外, “outside the party”) movement, the unofficial opposition to the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) regime, which had prohibited opposition parties during the martial law period.
Each event included massive crowds listening intently to the speakers on stage as they delivered eloquent speeches and made righteous declarations, which ignited everyone’s passion. Our zealous hearts kept us warm on those cold winter days. Whether we were on stage or off, our hearts melded together as we expressed enthusiasm for a brighter future for Taiwan.
It was not until later that the government began to hold New Year’s Eve celebrations, inviting singers to perform. Fireworks naturally became an obligatory part of the entertainment. Various counties and cities gradually began competing with one another in hosting their own lively and exciting celebrations.
Young people followed the trend, rushing to New Year’s Eve party venues to celebrate with the crowds into the early hours of New Year’s Day, which became a shared memory of these generations.
To be frank, New Year’s Eve concerts and performances are little more than a capitalist marketing tactic.
Using the arrival of the new year as an opportunity, concerts allow singers to perform and gain exposure, thereby boosting their fame so that they could sell more records and tickets. The cost of such events is staggering, often reaching millions — or tens of millions — of New Taiwan dollars.
Once the concert dies down and the excitement fades, everyone must still return to the realities of their everyday lives.
No one’s new year would be less fulfilling or wonderful if they missed a New Year’s Eve celebration. However, participation from more passionate young people is needed for societal improvement and progress.
Social engagement does not require a large sacrifice — even just small gestures suffice. Small, thoughtful actions, incrementally over time — like grains of sand building a tower or drops of water forming a river — could become the greatest driving force behind societal progress.
For the new year, one could perhaps pay closer attention to political events, sign petitions organized by civic groups, donate a few hundred New Taiwan dollars to social welfare organizations that serve the underprivileged, or take care to accompany loved ones that are experiencing hardship, thereby providing warmth during the cold winter. Each of these actions, although seemingly small, could help to cultivate a more caring and compassionate social atmosphere.
Positive and diverse forms of expression are the crucial forces uplifting society. Providing help in times of need could contribute to a brighter and more hopeful future.
Chen Chi-nung is a political commentator.
Translated by Kyra Gustavsen
The gutting of Voice of America (VOA) and Radio Free Asia (RFA) by US President Donald Trump’s administration poses a serious threat to the global voice of freedom, particularly for those living under authoritarian regimes such as China. The US — hailed as the model of liberal democracy — has the moral responsibility to uphold the values it champions. In undermining these institutions, the US risks diminishing its “soft power,” a pivotal pillar of its global influence. VOA Tibetan and RFA Tibetan played an enormous role in promoting the strong image of the US in and outside Tibet. On VOA Tibetan,
Former minister of culture Lung Ying-tai (龍應台) has long wielded influence through the power of words. Her articles once served as a moral compass for a society in transition. However, as her April 1 guest article in the New York Times, “The Clock Is Ticking for Taiwan,” makes all too clear, even celebrated prose can mislead when romanticism clouds political judgement. Lung crafts a narrative that is less an analysis of Taiwan’s geopolitical reality than an exercise in wistful nostalgia. As political scientists and international relations academics, we believe it is crucial to correct the misconceptions embedded in her article,
Sung Chien-liang (宋建樑), the leader of the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) efforts to recall Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) Legislator Lee Kun-cheng (李坤城), caused a national outrage and drew diplomatic condemnation on Tuesday after he arrived at the New Taipei City District Prosecutors’ Office dressed in a Nazi uniform. Sung performed a Nazi salute and carried a copy of Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf as he arrived to be questioned over allegations of signature forgery in the recall petition. The KMT’s response to the incident has shown a striking lack of contrition and decency. Rather than apologizing and distancing itself from Sung’s actions,
US President Trump weighed into the state of America’s semiconductor manufacturing when he declared, “They [Taiwan] stole it from us. They took it from us, and I don’t blame them. I give them credit.” At a prior White House event President Trump hosted TSMC chairman C.C. Wei (魏哲家), head of the world’s largest and most advanced chip manufacturer, to announce a commitment to invest US$100 billion in America. The president then shifted his previously critical rhetoric on Taiwan and put off tariffs on its chips. Now we learn that the Trump Administration is conducting a “trade investigation” on semiconductors which