Culture can transcend mountains and seas, connecting hearts across the strait
On a June afternoon in Xiamen, a young Chinese actor greeted a cross-strait audience in Taiwanese Minnan and, for a brief moment, the gesture felt like a bridge. Zhang Linghe's appearance at the annual Straits Forum — the first by a Chinese actor at its main plenary — quickly revealed how thoroughly culture and politics have become entangled across the Taiwan Strait, where even a six-minute speech about shared heritage can be read simultaneously as an olive branch and an instrument of statecraft. Taiwan's government saw manipulation where fans saw connection, and experts saw neither a breakthrough nor a catastrophe, but something more durable: a quiet, incremental strategy of softening perception through celebrity, one carefully chosen face at a time.
- A beloved actor's warm greeting in Taiwanese Minnan turned within hours into a diplomatic flashpoint, exposing how little space remains between culture and politics across the strait.
- Taiwan's Mainland Affairs Council accused Beijing's Taiwan Affairs Office of transforming Zhang Linghe from entertainer into political instrument, stripping the moment of its apparent sincerity.
- Despite the orchestrated appearance, nearly 88 percent of Taiwanese support maintaining de facto independence — a figure that one actor's speech, however popular, is powerless to move.
- Analysts suggest the real goal was never outright persuasion but a subtler shift: making China appear slightly less hostile, one celebrity appearance at a time.
- Beijing's calculus is increasingly clear — deploy high-profile entertainers under the cover of cultural exchange, knowing that even when critics name it as united front work, the ambiguity provides its own defense.
Zhang Linghe stepped to the microphone in Xiamen and greeted the crowd in Taiwanese Minnan — "tak ke ho" — and the room erupted. The 28-year-old star of the period drama Pursuit of Jade had become a fixture in Taiwanese living rooms, and his appearance at the annual Straits Forum seemed to promise a rare moment of genuine connection across the strait.
Within hours, the moment had curdled. Zhang's six-minute speech — believed to be the first by a Chinese actor at the forum's main plenary — called for closer cultural exchanges and urged Taiwanese to visit the mainland and experience its "vitality and dynamism." It was the language of bridge-building. Taiwan's government heard something else entirely. Liang Wen-chieh, deputy minister of Taiwan's Mainland Affairs Council, said Zhang had been "manipulated and used" by China's Taiwan Affairs Office. The Straits Forum, held annually in Xiamen, exists precisely to promote exchanges that Beijing hopes will soften Taiwanese resistance to reunification — a goal Taipei has long viewed as the event's true purpose.
Experts were quick to note that Zhang's appearance was unlikely to shift the underlying arithmetic of Taiwanese public opinion. A long-running National Chengchi University poll found nearly 88 percent of Taiwanese support maintaining de facto independence. Political scientist Chen Shih-min observed that Taiwanese could admire Zhang the way they admired actors from Korean or Japanese dramas — but admiration for a performer was a different thing entirely from wanting to be governed by China.
Yet the appearance may have succeeded in subtler ways. Cross-strait expert James Yifan Chen suggested that while the speech would not make Taiwanese view China as favorable overnight, it could make China appear "slightly less hostile" — a marginal shift that, accumulated across many such moments, might matter over time. Online, reactions split predictably: some fans welcomed the call for exchanges, while others accused Zhang of leveraging his popularity for political ends. "I really like him, but I still have a clear head," one user wrote.
Analysts believe Beijing's choice of Zhang was deliberate — his popularity among younger Taiwanese meant they would listen in ways they might not for a lesser-known figure. The strategy was straightforward: use celebrity as a vehicle for political messaging, wrapped in the language of culture. And if criticism followed, the defense was always ready: these were cultural exchanges, not political work. The distinction, in practice, had become nearly meaningless. If Zhang's appearance signals anything, it is that Beijing may increasingly deploy high-profile entertainers in cross-strait outreach — a relatively low-risk approach in which the ambiguity itself is the point.
Zhang Linghe stepped to the microphone in Xiamen on a June afternoon and greeted the crowd in Taiwanese Minnan—"tak ke ho," hello—and the room erupted. The 28-year-old Chinese actor, fresh from starring in the period drama Pursuit of Jade, had become a fixture in Taiwanese living rooms, and his appearance at the annual Straits Forum seemed to promise something rare: a moment of genuine cultural connection across the Taiwan Strait.
But within hours, the moment had curdled into something else entirely. Zhang's six-minute speech, believed to be the first time a Chinese actor had addressed the main plenary session of the Beijing-backed forum, became a flashpoint in the ongoing struggle over Taiwan's political future. He had called for closer cultural exchanges, urged Taiwanese to visit the mainland and experience its "vitality and dynamism," and spoken of culture's power to "transcend mountains and seas, connecting the hearts of compatriots on both sides of the strait." It was the language of bridge-building. Taiwan's government heard something different.
Liang Wen-chieh, deputy minister of Taiwan's Mainland Affairs Council, was blunt in his assessment. Zhang, he said, had been "manipulated and used" by China's Taiwan Affairs Office. What had seemed like a simple cultural gesture had been recast as political theater—the actor transformed from entertainer into instrument. The Straits Forum itself, held annually in Xiamen, exists precisely for this purpose: to promote exchanges that Beijing hopes will soften Taiwanese resistance to reunification. Taipei has long viewed it as a platform for advancing Chinese interests, not genuine dialogue.
The political stakes are substantial. China claims Taiwan as its territory and has made clear it will use force if necessary to achieve reunification. Yet experts who study cross-strait relations were quick to note that Zhang's appearance, however carefully orchestrated, was unlikely to shift the underlying arithmetic of Taiwanese public opinion. A long-running poll by National Chengchi University found that nearly 88 percent of Taiwanese support maintaining the current de facto independence. One actor's speech, no matter how popular, does not move those numbers.
Chen Shih-min, a political scientist at National Taiwan University, put it plainly: Taiwanese could admire Zhang as an entertainer the way they admired actors from Korean or Japanese dramas. But admiration for a performer was a different thing entirely from wanting to be governed by China. "It's very unlikely," he said, that one person could reshape how Taiwanese felt about their identity.
Yet the appearance may have succeeded in ways more subtle than outright persuasion. James Yifan Chen, a cross-strait relations expert at Tamkang University, suggested that while Zhang's speech would not make Taiwanese view China as favorable overnight, it could make China appear "slightly less hostile." That marginal shift in perception, accumulated across many such moments, might matter over time. Online, the reaction split along predictable lines. Some fans welcomed the call for greater exchanges. Others accused Zhang of leveraging his popularity for political ends. "I really like him, but I still have a clear head," one user wrote.
Analysts believe Beijing's choice to feature Zhang was anything but accidental. He was popular, especially among younger Taiwanese, which meant they would listen to him in ways they might not listen to a lesser-known figure. The calculation was straightforward: use celebrity as a vehicle for political messaging, wrapped in the language of culture. And if the strategy drew criticism, there was always a ready defense. These were cultural exchanges, not political work. The distinction, in practice, had become nearly meaningless.
The appearance of Zhang Linghe at the Straits Forum may signal a shift in how Beijing conducts its outreach to Taiwan. Celebrities have increasingly become terrain in cross-strait tensions—Hu Ge, another Chinese actor, faced scrutiny after a surprise visit to Taiwan the previous year, while Taiwanese entertainers working in China have felt pressure to publicly align themselves with Beijing's messaging. If Zhang's appearance is any indication, Beijing may double down on this approach, deploying more high-profile entertainers in future efforts. It is, as one analyst noted, a relatively low-risk strategy. Even when critics call it what it is—united front work—the celebrities involved can simply say they are participating in cultural exchanges. The ambiguity is the point.
Notable Quotes
Originally, Zhang Linghe was simply an artiste, but after being manipulated and used by China's Taiwan Affairs Office, he has been tainted with political overtones.— Liang Wen-chieh, deputy minister of Taiwan's Mainland Affairs Council
His speech won't make Taiwanese view China as favourable overnight, but it could make China appear slightly less hostile.— James Yifan Chen, cross-strait relations expert at Tamkang University
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that an actor gave a speech at a forum? Isn't that just entertainment?
Because the forum itself isn't really about entertainment. It's a platform Beijing uses to advance the idea that Taiwan and China should be closer, eventually unified. When they put a popular actor on that stage, they're not just booking talent—they're using his appeal to make that message reach people who might otherwise tune it out.
But the experts say his speech won't actually change how Taiwanese people think about reunification.
That's true. Eighty-eight percent of Taiwanese want to stay independent, and one actor isn't going to flip that. But Beijing isn't necessarily trying to flip it overnight. They're trying to make China seem less threatening, less foreign. If they can shift the needle even slightly—make people think "maybe China isn't so bad"—that's a win.
So why did Taiwan's government react so harshly?
Because they recognize the strategy. They see that Beijing is using entertainment and cultural appeal as a cover for political messaging. If they let it slide, it signals that this tactic works. By calling it out as manipulation, they're trying to inoculate Taiwanese against it.
Is Zhang Linghe complicit in this, or is he just an actor who was invited to speak?
That's the question everyone's wrestling with. He may have simply accepted an invitation to talk about culture. But Beijing wouldn't have invited him if they didn't think his presence would serve their interests. Whether he understood that or not is harder to say.
What happens next?
Analysts think Beijing will keep doing this—bringing more celebrities to these forums, using their popularity as a vehicle for political messaging. It's low-risk because they can always claim it's just cultural exchange. And each time they do it, they're testing how much pushback they face.