Tender Comrade

Chinese history wasn’t always straight. While queerness may seem like a foreign import, its roots in China date back to ancient times.

Bisexuality was the norm among emperors—Emperor Ai of the Han dynasty, for instance, openly took a ‘male favourite’. This was part of a broader history of same-sex relationships, non-normative sexualities and transgender identities that have largely been forgotten. Queer pasts are actively erased so that queer futures may cease to exist.

Although homosexuality was decriminalised in China in 1997, it had previously been classified as a crime under the offence of ‘hooliganism’. Today, lesbian and gay spaces continue to face closures due to ‘official pressure’, queer activists and organisers are subjected to police questioning, LGBTQIA+ representation is censored across the media, and ‘lavender marriages’ between queer men and women persist due to familial expectations.

Despite these constraints, queer communities endure. They call themselves tongzhi (同志), or ‘comrade’. The term was first popularised in the early twentieth century by Sun Yat-sen, father of the Republic of China, to unify people in revolution. Later, the Communist Party adopted it as a genderless, classless form of address. In 1989, the gay and lesbian community adopted it as their own — and it has remained ever since.

The literal meaning of tongzhi, ‘common will’, suggests the queer community is united by more than just sexual orientation — an idea echoed by philosopher Michel Foucault in his article Friendship as a Way of Life. What makes queerness both ‘disturbing’ and powerful is that it has become a sprawling ecosystem of relationships, networks and alliances. “Everything that can be troubling in affection, tenderness, friendship, fidelity, camaraderie and companionship” connects the artists in Tender Comrade. Straight, queer or undisclosed — together, they create an exhibition that breaks all the rules defining who we are and how we are perceived.