Singing for peace: How youth choirs rekindle China-US understanding

Min Rui is a special commentator on cultural affairs for CGTN. The article reflects the author's opinions and not necessarily those of CGTN.

To answer the question of the era — Will the world become a better place? — We must first answer the question of the century: Can China and the United States find the right way to get along?

In the summer of 2025, a rare and powerful scene unfolded in China: 10 youth choirs from the United States traveled to Beijing and Fuzhou to sing songs of peace at historic landmarks, sharing meals and laughter, and eventually joining hands to sing "We Are the World."This spontaneous moment of harmony, born not of protocol but of genuine connection, came to define the spirit of The Bond with Kuliang: 2025 China-U.S. Youth Choir Festival.

It was more than a series of performances. It was a live answer to a question long fraught with anxiety: How might the world's two largest powers truly understand one another?

Like a real-life rendition of "Glee," young people from vastly different cultures met not through political briefings but through the emotional language of music. Choir by choir, voice by voice, they dissolved the barriers that headlines and policy disputes so often reinforce. This time, the voices were not from Washington or Beijing; they were from young people who had not yet learned to distrust.

This summer, the most vital interaction between China and the United States wasn't about tariffs or maritime maneuvers. It was about choirs.

Chinese media gave the spotlight to these young singers, who performed flash mobs in places like the Great Wall, Sanfang Qixiang, and Yantai Hill. Audiences gathered to watch, record, and post these moments online. What began as music transformed into empathy, and what started as a tour grew into a shared movement.

Throughout history, cultural exchange has been one of humanity's most resilient tools for diplomacy: subtle, soft, yet enduring. From the ancient Silk Road to today's viral TikTok dances, culture travels beyond borders and touches hearts. It doesn't confront bias with force; it quietly disarms it through recognition of shared humanity.

In Fuzhou's Kuliang, a landmark of China-U.S. friendship, these American students heard stories of wartime solidarity, including those of the Flying Tigers, the young American pilots who fought alongside China in World War II. Many of them were barely older than the choir members. The legacy of their service, paired with the present-day warmth of cultural exchange, serves as a living bridge from the past to the future.

These young singers came not as tourists, but as learners and friends. In a digital age increasingly fragmented by geopolitical tensions and algorithmic bubbles, their physical presence was quietly revolutionary. They walked China's streets, tasted its food, and looked its people in the eye.

Such moments matter. In early 2025, the One Voice Children's Choir moved Chinese audiences to tears with their performance of "Ru Yuan"(As You Wish) at the Temple of Heaven in Beijing. The performance went viral, resonating even with Americans who had never seen China through such a tender lens.

After the United States banned TikTok, many young Americans flocked to the Chinese lifestyle platform Xiaohongshu (Rednote). There, they encountered a China beyond the headlines – rich in hospitality, humor, and humanity. Chinese users taught the visitors how to cook, plant vegetables, and embrace everyday life. These fragmented but genuine digital connections quietly chipped away at long-standing stereotypes.

This is precisely where the "Five-year, 50,000 People"youth exchange initiative finds its value. In a world shaped by algorithm-fed narratives, face-to-face encounters remain irreplaceable. Stereotypes wither when exposed to real life. The most effective diplomacy, after all, is not declared, it is lived.

This year, as the world marks the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II, we are reminded that China and the United States once stood together for peace. That history must not be allowed to fade. Today, the burden of peace falls on a new generation, and its first steps may be taken not in the halls of government, but on community stages like the one in Kuliang.

In this context, we must also question the narrow lens of the "America First" mantra. In a multipolar, interconnected world, leadership must be built not on dominance but on mutual respect. The Flying Tigers didn't fight to divide, they fought to unite. And they, too, were young.

What if the true bedrock of China-U.S. relations lies not in military might or economic rivalry, but in these "soft bridges" of shared emotion, collaboration, and trust? The real contest is no longer over land or trade, but over imagination, empathy, and narrative.

Years from now, some of these children may become teachers, diplomats, or decision makers. When that happens, they may look back on this summer not for the politics they overheard, but for the songs they sang, the friendships they formed, and the realization that they sang together "You'll Be In My Heart," where "despite all differences, we are not that different after all."

The future of China-U.S. relations will not be determined by warships or semiconductors, but by whether we choose to look at each other with open minds and open hearts. And as these young choirs showed us, peace is not a declaration – it is a melody, nurtured moment by moment, note by note.

This summer, in the hills of Kuliang, peace found a melody.