the internal crusade
In 1934, the Communist Party faced a life-and-death crisis as the Kuomintang launched several siege operations, forcing them to leave the former Chinese Soviet Republic. They broke out from southern Jiangxi, moved west, and then turned north, eventually reaching Shanxi. This migration lasted a year and covered almost the entire country. Of the nearly 86,000 soldiers in the Red Army at the time, only about 8,000 survived. The leaders then formed the first government cabinet of the new People’s Republic of China. This event is known as the ‘Long March.’
I was born and raised in Ganzhou, Jiangxi, the center of the CSR, where the “Long March” began. “The Communist Party came out of here,” as people say. Patriotic education filled all my schoolbooks, and party emblems with red stars, along with signs about the “Long March,” were on nearly every street corner. Growing up, through events ranging from the return of Hong Kong, the Family Planning policy, and conflicts with Taiwan, to the recent COVID-19 epidemic, the term “Long March” was repeatedly used as a keyword, carrying the meaning: “All suffering is a journey, and all journeys must lead to success.” I began to realize that it had evolved into a cultural tool for transforming individual suffering into a necessary sacrifice demanded by the collective.
In the summer of 2024, I undertook a two-month journey along the route, documenting the symbolic representations of the “Long March” and the people who live along it. We live in an illusion constructed by false tales; our intentions are shaped into tasks, and our experiences are hammered into predefined struggles. We seem to love suffering. On the surface, we resist it, but when suffering is absent, it is replaced by an uncontrollable emptiness.