Amid China's Cultural Revolution, which began in May 1966, a period marked by
profound political upheaval and fervent ideology, music transcended its conventional role,
emerging as a potent force in the socio-political domain. As Mao Zedong relentlessly pushed for
ideological conformity, music transformed from a mere form of entertainment into a powerful
instrument of political indoctrination and nationalistic zeal. Chinese musicians, once regarded
simply as entertainers, were thrust into the forefront of cultural transformation. They navigated a
complex landscape, embedding Party ideals into their compositions while grappling with
constrained artistic freedoms. These melodies, which resonated throughout the nation, not only
served as tools for propagating Maoist thought but also helped forge a collective identity,
reinforcing ideological education and strengthening social cohesion. In this strictly governed
environment, music extended beyond mere performance, becoming a key tool in promoting
Mao's ideology. During the Cultural Revolution, Mao Zedong's control over Chinese musicians
reinforced Party propaganda and restricted artistic freedoms; even though the Chinese
Communist Party's control deepened ideological indoctrination and constrained individual
expression, music built collective identity and promoted cultural cohesion.

        The Cultural Revolution, launched by Mao Zedong in 1966 and extending until 1976,
profoundly reshaped every facet of Chinese society, driven by a relentless drive to assert
Communist ideology and eradicate capitalist and traditional elements. This radical campaign was
marked by aggressive efforts to purify society through the lens of Maoism, which emphasized a
continuous revolution to uphold and spread communist values. With its roots in the idea of a
peasant-led revolution and the destruction of the old societal structures, Maoism became the
ideological cornerstone of this period, guiding policy and daily life. Throughout the decade,
Mao's policies dismantled existing social orders, targeting intellectuals, purging perceived enemies within the Communist Party, and mobilizing the youth through the Red Guards to carry
out widespread cultural and social reforms. These actions extended deeply into the cultural
realm, where traditional practices were denounced as regressive and replaced by a new
movement characterized by revolutionary content and glorifying Mao's ideals. Education and the
public sphere underwent rigorous changes, with schools often closed and academic curricula
revised to reflect Maoist propaganda while Red Guards actively participated in demolishing old
customs, habits, and ideas. This revolution profoundly disrupted Chinese society, leading to
widespread persecution and significant economic disruptions while also catalyzing social and
cultural transformations that have continued to influence generations and reshape the cultural
landscape of China. 

        Mao Zedong's ideology, central to the Cultural Revolution, became the driving force
behind the creative output of Chinese musicians, embedding his teachings in their music and
profoundly impacting the cultural landscape, ultimately restricting artistic freedom and
overshadowing cultural advancements. The grand narrative of Mao's ideology was not just a
political directive but a cultural mandate that sought to permeate every aspect of life in China.
This ideological infusion into music is evident in the song The East is Red by Youyuan Li, which
praised Mao as a heroic figure; for instance, lyrics proclaiming, “[Mao Zedong] strives for the
people’s happiness, Hurrah, he is the people’s great savior!”1 and “Chairman Mao, loves the
people, he is our guide,”2 illustrate how musicians were not only creating but actively promoting
Mao's cult of personality. These compositions foster ideological indoctrination, reinforcing
Mao's image as a benevolent and wise leader indispensable to the nation's progress. Furthermore, Mao emphasized the symbiosis of art and politics, declaring, “What we demand is the unity of
politics and art, the unity of content and form.”3 This principle clearly directed artists and
musicians to align their creative expressions with Maoist ideology, ensuring that every artistic
endeavor carried a political message that supported the state's objectives. This approach was
further clarified when Mao stated that the arts and literature were to act as a “cultural army to
serve the people; therefore all art and literature was to be of, by, and for the people.”4 This
directive transformed artists and musicians into agents of Maoist thought, tasked with creating
works accessible to and reflective of the proletarian struggle, thus ensuring their alignment with
the party's goals. The deep embedding of Maoist ideology in music and its role in the Cultural
Revolution are articulated by scholar Lei Ouyang Bryant, who observed that “‘Praise songs,
battle songs, and songs from political campaigns’ contain overt messages of faith and
commitment to Mao Zedong, the Chinese Communist Party, and the motherland.”5 The deep
embedding of Maoist ideology in music transformed it from a form of entertainment into a tool
of mass communication and indoctrination, shaping public perceptions and strengthening the
collective identity aligned with Mao's visions. By compelling musicians to incorporate his
teachings, Mao effectively used music to control and manipulate the cultural dialogue, ensuring
that the Chinese populace understood and embraced his ideological and political objectives. 

        Central to Maoist thought, collectivism resonated through the era's music, shaping songs
that championed group solidarity and echoed the party's call for national unity. This thematic
emphasis is exemplified in the narrative of 'Longjiangsong ('Ode to the Dragon River'),' where the dramatization of communal effort in crisis reflects the Maoist ideology of collective action: “[when] a dike has broken and the peasants now form a human wall to make repair works possible. Beating the waters, they are helped by citing, singing, and performing this quotation from the works of Mao.”6 This portrayal celebrates the strength found in unity and encourages participation in communal endeavors as a form of ideological expression and survival strategy. Moreover, the repetitive nature of Cultural Revolution propaganda, as detailed by scholar Lei Ouyang Bryant, served as a psychological tool to deepen the collective identity among the populace: “To this end, Cultural Revolution propaganda had many similar effects. The
continuous repetition of simple terms, slogans, and speeches all fostered a sense of unity and a
sense of belonging that individuals could identify with.”7 This repetitive messaging in music and
other mediums was a deliberate strategy to ingrain an inherent sense of community and shared
purpose, vital for the state's mobilization efforts. The function of songs during this period
extended beyond mere artistic expression to becoming a vital part of social life and political
affiliation, as indicated, “[t]he songs provided a means for individuals, young and old, to join in
solidarity to express their commitment and dedication to the Communist Party.”8 Here, music
carried the weight of political messages and served as a binding force, creating spaces where
communal identities could be celebrated and reinforced. The collective experience of music also
cultivated a sense of camaraderie among participants, amplifying the shared emotional journey
through struggles and victories. More than just establishing individual roles within the group,
these musical gatherings became vibrant spaces for collective enthusiasm and fellowship. This
emotional engagement through music allowed for a deeper connection to Maoist values, embedding the ideology more profoundly into everyday life. Each song, performance, and
repetition not only mirrored the regime's objectives but actively participated in the sociopolitical
indoctrination needed to transform Chinese citizens into a singular, cohesive unit dedicated to the
communist cause. The centrality of collectivism in the era's music played a crucial role in
shaping not only the cultural landscape but also the essence of personal and collective identity
during the Cultural Revolution. During the Cultural Revolution, strict music censorship represented a significant
infringement on human rights, as all cultural expressions were forced to adhere to a uniform
Maoist narrative. Professor Arnold Perris details this extreme control over the arts, noting, “At
the height of the Cultural Revolution only eight 'model works' of music were permitted for
performance or study from the primary schools to the professional theatres.”9 Such limitations
not only drastically curtailed the scope of artistic creation but also served as a mechanism to
suppress any form of expression that failed to glorify the Maoist doctrine. Perris further
underscores the severity of this restriction, pointing out that “for nearly ten years eight hundred
million people were required to hear one of a group of eight compositions, in whole or in part, on
virtually every musical occasion,”10 highlighting how deeply this policy penetrated everyday life
and culture. Pervasive censorship during the Cultural Revolution did more than merely limit
musical diversity; it intruded deeply into personal expression, challenging the foundational
aspects of individual autonomy and dignity. Historian Richard C. Kagan illustrates the broader
impact of these policies, noting, “[t]he establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949
led to the rejection of human rights as bourgeois, making their mention taboo and punishable by imprisonment, with few exceptions in 1957 and 1978.” 11 The era was characterized by severe
suppression of the freedom to express one's thoughts and ideas, indicative of a broader contempt
for personal freedoms under the guise of ideological purity. Kagan points out the hazardous
environment for those who dared to challenge these norms, stating, “human rights activities in
China are considered to be antigovernment in nature and result in harsh punishment,”12 which
further exemplifies the risks faced by anyone who attempted to assert their thoughts or artistic
visions. The restrictive environment forced artists to align closely with state mandates or face
severe consequences. Arnold Perris captures this conflict within the artistic community: “[t]he
more dogmatic and autocratic the state censorship, the more the artists—or some artists—will
struggle, dissemble and compromise their artistic judgements and preferences.”13 This scenario
stifled artistic development and highlighted the broader struggle for intellectual and creative
freedom. The Cultural Revolution, therefore, not only reshaped the Chinese cultural landscape
through stringent controls over music and arts but also significantly constrained the basic human
capacity to express and innovate, leaving a legacy of suppression that intertwined tightly with the broader narrative of restricted personal freedoms during this period. 

        During the Cultural Revolution, the widespread dissemination of music enhanced public
access to cultural and educational content, enabling greater engagement with and understanding
of Maoist ideologies. This era brought an unprecedented integration of music into the daily lives
of Chinese citizens, significantly broadening their exposure to a blend of traditional and
revolutionary themes. Cultural historian Barbara Mittler highlights this period's transformative
effect on aspiring musicians, explaining how “many composers discovered their passion for music and learned composition and conducting within propaganda troupes. This period also
exposed them to the diverse traditions of Chinese folk music as they traveled from village to
village.”14 The travel cultivated individual musical skills and served as a crucial medium through
which a vast array of cultural knowledge was transmitted, enriching the community's cultural
landscape. Mittler also points out the broader impact on artistic development, noting that “many
renowned musicians and artists learned their craft in propaganda troupes, where they gained
skills like violin playing and painting, all framed as serving political purposes.”15 Although
steeped in political messaging, these educational opportunities inadvertently provided a
foundation for artistic expression that would influence Chinese culture long beyond the
revolution, underscoring the complex relationship between political indoctrination and cultural
enrichment. The state-driven agendas paradoxically fostered a unique space for artistic growth,
where even traditional Chinese art forms like Beijing opera saw a resurgence of interest. Mittler
observes, “[m]any learned about Beijing opera during the Cultural Revolution, which, despite its
flaws, offered significant cultural education.”16 The focus on Beijing opera preserved this
quintessential element of Chinese heritage. It made it accessible to a broader audience,
enhancing public appreciation and understanding of a pivotal cultural pillar. Ultimately, these
initiatives significantly increased cultural access and public engagement, illustrating how the
Cultural Revolution, while primarily a political upheaval, also played an instrumental role in
promoting a deeper connection between Chinese citizens and their rich cultural heritage, thereby
having a lasting impact on China's artistic and cultural identity. 

        The music of the Cultural Revolution crafted a resonant collective identity that continues
to influence cultural memory and perpetuate nostalgia for Maoist ideals across generations. This
influence is vividly illustrated by the reflections of individuals who experienced this period
firsthand. Lei Ouyang Bryant's interviewees, who lived through the Cultural Revolution, vividly
describe the emotional resonance of the music, stating, “The majority of comments from the
Cultural Revolution generation include, ‘When I hear this music it takes me back,’ and ‘When I
hear this music it makes me very excited.’”17 These sentiments highlight how deeply the music is
woven into their personal histories, serving as a reminder of the past and as an emotional
touchstone that reconnects them with a tumultuous yet formative time in their lives. Barbara
Mittler expands on this by noting the complex feelings associated with this era, explaining that
“[d]espite suffering during the Cultural Revolution, many express reverence for Mao, recalling
that people were more honest and altruistic then, unlike today's selfish world focused on personal gain.”18 This juxtaposition of hardship with nostalgia suggests that for many, the music of the Cultural Revolution symbolizes a lost era of perceived communal integrity and simplicity,
contrasted with contemporary societal values. Echoing this sentiment, a Shanghai musician born
in 1942 comments on the socio-economic changes that have intensified these nostalgic feelings,
observing that “In Mao's time everybody was the same, everybody wore the same clothes. But now, everybody is different… so many people now have much, much more than others, so those remakes of revolutionary songs in praise of Mao, for example, were in part nostalgic.”19 This reflects on a time when equality was more apparent, and music significantly influenced the social fabric. The music from the Cultural Revolution evokes deeply emotional memories of childhood and youth for those who remember it today and showcases music's unique ability to transcend the intricate mesh of politics and history. Its emotive strength and the personal significance people attach to it allows listeners to experience and interpret basic emotions that connect them back to a significant period of collective experience, demonstrating how cultural elements from the past continue to inform and shape individual and collective identities in complex and enduring ways.

        Reflecting on the role of propaganda music during the Cultural Revolution reveals its
profound impact on China's cultural identity and collective memory. This observation compels a
deeper examination of how state-manipulated art forms during such tumultuous times continue to influence or distort the cultural memory of subsequent generations. The enduring nostalgia for
this music, often remembered with fondness by those who endured the hardships of the revolution, raises complex considerations about the nature of memory itself. Is this nostalgia
rooted in genuine affection for the past, or is it a constructed sentimentality that glosses over the
era's brutal realities? Such considerations deepen the understanding of the Cultural Revolution's
legacy and prompt broader reflections on the use of art for ideological indoctrination. What does
this historical instance reveal about the power of music and art to shape and potentially manipulate societal views and memories? These insights urge a critical evaluation of the ethical
boundaries of cultural manipulation and challenge observers to consider how history is shaped
not only by events but also by the art that emerges from them, exploring the unseen forces that
continue to influence contemporary perceptions of the past. 

                                                               Notes 

1 Youyuan Li, “The East is Red,” Directed by Enlai Zhou and Wang Ping, Smithsonian music, October 16, 1964, Music video, 3:47, music.si.edu/video/east-red %E4%B8%9C%E6%96%B9%E7%BA%A2-english-subtitles.
2 Youyuan Li, “The East is Red.” 

3 Zedong Mao, “毛泽东: 在延安文艺座谈会上的讲话 (Talks at the Yan’an Forum on Literature and Art,)” In 毛泽东选集 (Mao's Anthology), edited by Fang Lin, Beijing: Xinhua, 2011, chinanews.com/cul/news/2010/03-10/2162367.shtml.

4 Lei Ouyang Bryant, “Music, Memory, and Nostalgia: Collective Memories of Cultural Revolution Songs in Contemporary China,” China Review 5, no. 2 (2005): 153, jstor.org/stable/23462034.

5 Bryant, “Music, Memory, and Nostalgia,” 154. 

6 Barbara Mittler, “Popular Propaganda? Art and Culture in Revolutionary China,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 152, no. 4 (2008): 476, jstor.org/stable/40541604.

7 Bryant, “Music, Memory, and Nostalgia,” 164. 

8 Bryant, “Music, Memory, and Nostalgia,” 165.

9 Arnold Perris, “Music as Propaganda: Art at the Command of Doctrine in the People’s Republic of China,” Ethnomusicology 27, no. 1 (1983): 17, doi.org/10.2307/850880.

10 Perris, “Music as Propaganda,” 18.

11 Richard C. Kagan, “China Human Rights,” In Encyclopedia of Modern Asia Volume 1 Abacus to China, edited by David Levinson and Karen Christensen, 519, New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 2002 Berkshire Publishing Group, Digital File.

12 Richard C. Kagan, “China Human Rights,” 520. 

13 Perris, “Music as Propaganda,” 18. 

14 Barbara, “Popular Propaganda,” 468.

15 Barbara, “Popular Propaganda,” 469.

16 Barbara, “Popular Propaganda,” 481.

17 Bryant, “Music, Memory, and Nostalgia,” 162.

18 Barbara, “Popular Propaganda,” 484.

19 Barbara, “Popular Propaganda,” 485.