We are pleased to publish the below contributed article by Gao Wencheng, a London-based journalist with the Xinhua News Agency, which takes the 80th anniversary of the victory over Japanese militarism as a starting point to highlight the prospects and opportunities of enhanced cultural exchange and people-to-people friendship between Britain and China.
He writes that, “Living in London, I am constantly struck by how near China feels” and notes that: “Only a week after World War II commemorations, London’s Shaw Theatre hosted performances of traditional Chinese Yue Opera.” An August 22 Xinhua report further notes:
“As early as 2016, the Xiaobaihua troupe staged in London a cross-cultural production that brought together characters from Shakespeare’s Coriolanus and Chinese great playwright Tang Xianzu’s The Peony Pavilion. Written around the same time, Coriolanus is a Roman tragedy, while The Peony Pavilion tells of a young woman’s tragic love and resurrection.”
He concludes:
The war against fascism was won through the collective effort of many peoples; no single nation could have achieved victory alone. This truth holds greater significance today than ever before. The ties forged between different nations in the flames of war remind us that peace and justice know no borders.
On August 15, Britain marked the 80th anniversary of VJ (Victory over Japan) Day and the end of the Second World War, with an unusually high-profile tribute. Many iconic sites, from Buckingham Palace to the Palace of Westminster, were illuminated with a “V” for “Victory,” a symbol that has long been more associated with Britain’s participation in the European theatre of World War II.
In this country, the fall of Berlin in May 1945 has always loomed larger in public memory than the surrender of Japan three months later.
But this year felt different. Perhaps it was because it’s a round-number anniversary. Or perhaps it was because of King Charles III’s unusually pointed words, which stressed that those who fought and died in the Pacific and Far East “shall never be forgotten.” At noon, the country even paused for two minutes of silence marking VJ Day.
At the Cenotaph, Britain’s national war memorial on London’s Whitehall, I met 83-year-old Peter Torre, who was wearing a badge reading “Very Grateful War Baby.”
“I was born during the war,” he said. “I came to remember those who gave their today for our tomorrow.” After learning that I was from China, he repeated this gratitude. His farewell — “Thank you for coming” — carried the weight of a shared memory that spanned continents.
That same evening, Leicester Square hosted the European premiere of Dongji Rescue, a film that recounts the story of how Chinese fishermen risked their lives to rescue more than 300 British prisoners of war from the Lisbon Maru, a cargo ship requisitioned by the Japanese army, which was torpedoed by a US submarine off the Zhoushan Islands in east China’s Zhejiang Province in 1942.
Its opening and closing were met with spontaneous applause, with some in the audience weeping during the screening. For many, the film enables them to know China’s role as the eastern front of the global fight against fascism, and of the solidarity forged between Chinese villagers and British soldiers in the darkest days of war.
For Alfie Howis, a member of the Friends of Socialist China (FOSC) Britain Committee, the film was “a powerful example of Chinese and British people standing together against Japanese fascism.”
Howis believes that bringing this film into mainstream British cinema will help audiences recognise China’s contribution as one of the principal Allied Powers. “This is, in many ways, a Chinese story, told by Chinese people, and that is exactly what we need more of here,” he observed.
In other words, remembrance should not be limited to the stories of British soldiers in the so-called “Far East,” but must also embrace the Chinese people who fought, suffered and resisted, and the shared stories that bind the two together. Such a perspective feels all the more urgent today.
After all, the term “Far East” is a colonial invention, a cartographic fiction imposed from a European vantage point, implying distance and otherness. In today’s interconnected world, that framing is getting increasingly obsolete. Living in London, I am constantly struck by how near China feels: from Chinese restaurants on every high street to headlines about Chinese electric cars breaking sales records in Britain. Even on the Tube, I still see children sharing their Labubu figures with friends, the popular toy from China has London shops drawing long queues
Only a week after World War II commemorations, London’s Shaw Theatre hosted performances of traditional Chinese Yue Opera, including excerpts from the Peony Pavilion and Dream of the Red Chamber. I wondered whether British audiences could grasp the delicate aesthetics of Chinese romance, or the ‘gender-bending’ convention of women playing male roles, but much to my surprise, they did. They laughed and cried with the storylines and told me after the show that they wanted to see more.
Many in the audience had come with their Chinese partners, which was unsurprising, given the theme “Garden of Love.” Yet there were also plenty who had no Chinese connection and no knowledge of the language. Thanks largely to the English subtitles, they were able to follow the storylines and, as several told me, to feel the poetry in the language itself. For them, the performances were not only successful in their storytelling but also visually striking in make-up and costume.
This sense of proximity runs in both directions. Western musicals have been welcomed by packed audiences in China for decades, where spectators know the lyrics by heart. Ballet, orchestras and Shakespeare all draw enthusiastic Chinese followings. On London’s streets today, Chinese tourists are a familiar sight; in Oxford this summer, I met Chinese teenagers explaining their tech projects in fluent English to professors of computer science.
What stands out is not just cultural exchange, but the openness of a generation that is comfortable moving between worlds. As British educator H-J Colston, who co-founded the educational charity Engage with China, told me, “Chinese students can quote Shakespeare and talk about Western pop culture with ease. It’s time for British students to learn more about China.” Her group has already reached over 6,500 pupils, offering classes on Chinese history and geography and scholarships for study visits. This aligns with a rising interest among British young people in learning Mandarin.
Distance is not only measured in miles, but in imagination. When we cling to Eurocentric frames, the East looks remote. When we listen, watch and learn, it feels immediate. In an age when xenophobia and nationalist rhetoric are again on the rise, remembering that solidarity once crossed continents is not a matter of nostalgia, but of immediate urgency.
The war against fascism was won through the collective effort of many peoples; no single nation could have achieved victory alone. This truth holds greater significance today than ever before. The ties forged between different nations in the flames of war remind us that peace and justice know no borders, and that empathy can bridge the distances once thought unbridgeable. What was once “far” is already close at hand.
