Written by Liao Pin-yen
Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration group. The 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration was held at Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall-Liberty Square on February 28, 2026.
The year 2026 marks the thirty-ninth anniversary of the lifting of martial law in Taiwan. It is an uneasy milestone: far enough removed for the younger generation to feel a distance from the era of authoritarian rule, yet close enough that the wounds of the past remain palpable.
This tension became starkly visible in a recent controversy surrounding a film adaptation of the 1980 Lin Family Murders (林宅血案), a tragedy that occurred on February 28 during the White Terror. The debate reignited public attention toward unresolved questions of political repression and the spectre of the historical past. The film The Century Bloodshed (世紀血案), based on the Lin family tragedy, recently announced the completion of its filming. The project immediately drew criticism. Some actors expressed a startling lack of familiarity with the historical gravity of the incident, while leaked script drafts suggested that the production intended to shift responsibility for the murders onto Taiwanese independence activists in Japan. Critics accused the project of “whitewashing” history by diluting accountability and redrawing the narrative boundaries of the crime about how we narrate historical trauma when the truth remains partially erased or uncertain.
Although the film’s production was eventually halted following legal disputes, the controversy raised a haunting question: In a society where transitional justice remains incomplete and historical truths remain fractured, how should the past be narrated? How can artistic creation intervene in history without violating the ethics of memory? Against this backdrop, the GongSheng Music Commemoration (共生音樂節), held annually since 2013, offers a unique perspective. Through music, NGO-led marketplaces, and historical exhibitions, a collective of young people has spent over a decade attempting to bring the history of authoritarianism and the ideals of transitional justice to the shores of contemporary Taiwanese society.
Breaking the Bottleneck of 228 Commemoration
The date of the Lin Family Murders—February 28—was widely interpreted as a deliberate signal from the perpetrators, pointing toward the deepest scar in Taiwan’s modern history: the 228 Incident.
The tragedy of 228 began on February 27, 1947, in Taipei, after a violent confrontation between agents of the state tobacco monopoly and a local widow accused of selling contraband cigarettes. By the following day, February 28, public fury had boiled over. Crowds gathered outside the office of the Chief Administrator Chen Yi (陳儀) to protest. In a fateful turn, the authorities responded by firing machine guns on the demonstrators. This escalated violence triggered island-wide unrest. While Chen Yi publicly pacified the public by promising political reforms, he secretly requested military reinforcements from Chiang Kai-shek in Nanjing. When troops arrived in March 1947, they carried out widespread and indiscriminate suppression across Taiwan.
For decades under the Kuomintang’s (KMT) subsequent authoritarian rule, the 228 Incident was a forbidden topic—erased from textbooks and silenced in the public sphere. It was not until the lifting of martial law in 1987 that civil society began the arduous process of seeking the truth and advocating for a national memorial day.
However, by the 2010s, public commemorations of 228 had reached a bottleneck. Official ceremonies had become formalised and solemn, attended largely by an ageing population that had directly experienced the violent era. For the post-martial law generation, those who grew up after 1987, the history often felt distant or, worse, instrumentalised for partisan politics. The central challenge for young activists was how to foster empathy for a painful history among people who felt no direct connection to it.
Youth Taking the Torch: Music, History, and Social Issues
In 2013, a group of students and researchers took up the relay torch and carved out their path. Recognising that memory must be communicated through new cultural forms, they turned to Taiwan’s growing music festival scene. Independent bands were invited to perform in place of the solemn orchestral music that typically accompanies official memorial ceremonies.
The independent bands invited to GongSheng are not required to have songs specifically themed around the 228 Incident, nor must they be experts on the history of the White Terror. Rather, these artists leverage their influence by interspersing their musical performances with brief, sincere, and moving dialogues that resonate deeply with the audience. Furthermore, in recent years, we have prioritised creators who perform in Taiwan’s local and Indigenous languages. By creating a stage where Taiwanese Hokkien, Hakka, and various Indigenous languages can be heard, we foster a diverse and inclusive experience that celebrates Taiwan’s multi-ethnic heritage.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration group. Lilium (百合花), a Taiwanese-language band performing at the Gongsheng Music Commemoration event.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration group. Hakka singer-songwriter Chiu Shu-chan (邱淑嬋) was invited to perform at the event.
The event was not just about the stage; it was an educational intervention. Historical exhibitions on the 228 Incident were set up, allowing attendees to learn about the tragic past while listening to music. Take the 2026 exhibition as an example: we structured the narrative around “Memory,” divided into three distinct sections. The first explores the difficulties the public faces in remembering the 228 Incident in the “Present”; the second examines the diverse identities of the 228 victims during the “Past”; and the third focuses on how the art and literature of 228 imagine a collective “Future”.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration group. The Historical exhibition was set up at the event.
Apart from the exhibition, the youth organisers invited the family members of 228 victims to participate in a People’s Library (真人圖書館). Here, audience members could listen to the life stories of 228 victims or their Family members. This year, we invited Mr Lin Cheng-chih (林承志). His grandfather, Lin Mosei (林茂生), was the first Taiwanese to earn a PhD in the United States, but he later disappeared during the 228 Incident. Although Mr Lin never met his grandfather, he grew up watching his grandmother weep quietly as she looked at her husband’s photographs. He also spoke of how his own father’s future was derailed when a critical essay about the KMT cost him the chance to attend university. Through Mr Lin’s story, the audience comes to realise that state violence does not end with machine guns or physical suppression; it lingers subtly, haunting and transferring its weight onto the next generations.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration group. Mr Lin Cheng-chih was invited to tell his life stories to the audience during the People’s Library event.
Furthermore, the organisers ensured the festival looked forward as much as it looked back. We invited various NGOs, such as Amnesty International Taiwan, Taiwan Equality Campaign (彩虹平權大平台), the Taiwan Migrant Chamber (台灣移民青年倡議陣線), Citizen of the Earth, Taiwan (地球公民基金會), and some student activist groups from National Taiwan University. Through these alliances, we set up booths at the festival, allowing participants to engage with raising contemporary issues facing Taiwan.
Among the participating NGOs, a significant one is the Indigenous Youth Front (原住民族青年陣線, IYF). Each year, the festival opens with a Beacon Fire Ceremony (狼煙儀式). Smoke signals have long served as a vital medium for Indigenous youth to voice their demands and communicate across territories. Since 2015, the IYF has partnered with GongSheng to raise these fires on February 28, calling on the government to address the long-overdue historical and land justice for Taiwan’s Indigenous peoples.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration group. A staff member from Citizen of the Earth, Taiwan (地球公民基金會), explained their agenda on environmental issues to the public.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the 14th Gongsheng Music Commemoration group. The event was initiated with a Beacon Fire Ceremony (狼煙儀式) to serve as a medium for Indigenous youth to voice their subjectivity on land territories.
This fusion of music, historical pedagogy, and civic advocacy came to be known as the GongSheng Music Commemoration. In Mandarin, GongSheng (共生) means coexistence. The character Gong (共) also subtly deconstructs the Chinese characters for 228 (二二八), forming a linguistic bridge to the historical origins. While this naming strategy was a tactical choice to make the festival feel gentle and approachable to the general public, the organisers held a deeper philosophical stance. For them, GongSheng was not a shortcut to reconciliation. We do not ask victims to coexist with perpetrators while responsibilities remain unclarified and truths remain buried. Instead, we pursued coexistence as the future condition that can only emerge after society confronts the past and clarifies accountability.
Institutional Growth and Future Visions
In 2019, core members established the Taiwan Youth Association for Transitional Justice and Kiong-Seng (台灣共生青年協會, TWGS) to address the high turnover typical of student-led initiatives. This foundation provided a more stable platform for mobilising movements to expand their outreach. Our Association extended its focus beyond the 228 Incident to encompass the wider White Terror period by integrating transitional justice into daily life through lectures, student camps, and outdoor learning (走讀) that guide participants through the authoritarian geography of Taiwan’s cities.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the Taiwan Youth Association for Transitional Justice and Kiong-Seng. TWGS held a camp for high school students to explore the history of the 228 Incident and the importance of human rights.
Beyond education, we act as a civic watchdog. In today’s political landscape, where transitional justice has been normalised and integrated into the bureaucratic Executive Yuan (行政院), many government agencies lack either the expertise or the motivation to execute their policies effectively. TWGS frequently issues public statements, initiates petitions, and coordinates NGO coalitions to pressure the government to prioritise legal reforms and ensure that transitional justice does not stall due to bureaucratic inertia or changes in political administration. For instance, in February 2026, TWGS issued a pun titled “Chiang Kai-shek Off Duty, Democracy On Duty” (中正下班, 民主上班). The wordplay called upon the Executive Yuan to fulfil its promise about transforming the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall (中正紀念堂) into a Democracy Education Park (民主教育園區). We specifically urged the government to present a concrete implementation timetable before May 17, 2026 (Taiwan’s White Terror Memorial Day) to ensure that these transitional justice commitments will be met.

Image credit: Provided by the author on behalf of the Taiwan Youth Association for Transitional Justice and Kiong-Seng. The pun with the statement “Chiang Kai-shek Off Duty, Democracy On Duty” was released by TWGS.
Reflecting on the journey of the GongSheng Music Commemoration and the Association, we offer one possible answer to the question of how transitional justice “lands on shore”. The landing of justice requires more than just top-down policy; it requires the cultural labour that GongSheng has performed for over a decade. When people gather to listen to an indie band while discussing the unresolved mysteries surrounding the 228 Incident or the Lin Family Murders, the discomfort and coexistence we feel in that moment become the most powerful weapons against unconscious forgetting.
This is the deepest meaning of GongSheng. Nearly four decades after the end of martial law, Taiwanese society continues to wrestle with the lingering spectre of authoritarian violence of its past. Whether the ship of transitional justice can truly reach a harbour depends on our willingness to face the absences in our history and continue the dialogue within those gaps. The GongSheng Music Commemoration may not deliver the definitive truth, but it provides a space where younger generations can piece together their own sense of history from the shards. Through our annual gathering, we tell this society: the practice of justice is not a one-time destination, but a persistent choice to remember and commemorate within our fractured memories.
Liao Pin-yen (廖品硯) is a Board Member of the Taiwan Youth Association for Transitional Justice and Kiong-Seng. He has long been dedicated to translating and narrating the history of the 228 Incident and the White Terror for younger generations, focusing on how cultural practices can intervene in public issues.
Taiwan Youth Association for Transitional Justice and Kiong-Seng (台灣共生青年協會) was established in 2019 (initiated as a student-led social movement in 2013). This youth-led organisation promotes transitional justice education and historical memory through Taiwan’s largest 228 commemorative event, the GongSheng Music Commemoration. The Association is committed to guiding Taiwanese society toward true coexistence by understanding the violent past that has shaped Taiwan.
This article was published as part of a special issue on “Thirty-Nine Years after Martial Law: Fractured Truths, Silence, and Unconscious Forgetting“.
