A Musical Prodigy Born in Turbulent Times

Nie Er, born Nie Shouxin on February 14, 1912, in Kunming, Yunnan, entered a world on the brink of upheaval. His childhood was marked by hardship after his father, a traditional Chinese physician, passed away when Nie was just four. His mother, Peng Jikuan, a Dai ethnic minority woman, supported the family by obtaining a medical license—a rare feat for women at the time. Beyond her profession, she profoundly influenced Nie’s musical sensibilities by singing folk melodies and narrating stories through local tunes.

Despite financial struggles—Nie once had to transfer schools due to an inability to afford a scout uniform—his academic excellence and musical talent shone. By his teens, he had mastered instruments like the bamboo flute and erhu, and later studied Western music theory under a French teacher. A pivotal moment came in 1928 when his teacher, Zhao Qiongxian, an underground Communist, was executed by nationalist forces. Witnessing her bravery as she shouted slogans before her death left an indelible mark, pushing Nie toward activism.

From Student Soldier to Revolutionary Musician

At 16, Nie secretly enlisted in a student army led by warlord Fan Shisheng, only to return a year later after its dissolution. By 1930, his involvement in leftist movements drew scrutiny from Kuomintang authorities, forcing him to flee to Shanghai. There, he joined the Mingyue Song and Dance Troupe, led by Li Jinhui, a pioneer of Chinese pop music. However, Nie grew disillusioned with the troupe’s apolitical repertoire amid Japan’s encroachment on China. His public critique of their “escapist” songs—like The Peach Blossom River—alienated colleagues but caught the attention of playwright Tian Han, a key figure in China’s leftist cultural movement.

Their collaboration birthed an artistic partnership that would redefine Chinese music. Nie’s compositions, such as The March of the Volunteers and The Song of the Newspaper Seller, drew from his immersion in the lives of laborers. He wandered docks to capture the rhythms of The Dockworkers’ Song and refined The Little Newsboy with input from a child hawker named “Little Mao.”

The Fateful Journey to Japan

In 1935, as Japan’s threat loomed larger, Tian Han penned lyrics for The March of the Volunteers while imprisoned for “communist propaganda.” Nie, now a Communist Party member, composed the melody in a burst of inspiration before fleeing to Japan to evade arrest. On July 17, during a seaside outing in Fujisawa, Nie drowned under mysterious circumstances. His body, recovered the next day, showed slight nasal bleeding—fueling speculation of foul play by Japanese agents. However, historical evidence suggests accidental drowning: Nie was a weak swimmer, and his low-profile status made assassination unlikely.

Echoes Across Battlefields and Borders

Nie’s death at 23 belied the seismic impact of his work. By 1937, The March of the Volunteers became a wartime anthem, sung by soldiers defending Shanghai and台儿庄. Internationally, it resonated as Chee Lai (“Arise”), performed by Paul Robeson in the U.S. and adopted by anti-fascist movements in Europe and Southeast Asia. In 1949, it was enshrined as China’s national anthem, surviving even the Cultural Revolution’s ideological purges.

A Legacy Carved in Stone and Song

In Fujisawa, Japan, a memorial to Nie Er stands near his drowning site, rebuilt in 1965 by local citizens. Every July 17, the city honors him with a rendition of The March of the Volunteers—a poignant tribute to the young composer whose music transcended enmity. Meanwhile, Kunming and Fujisawa’s sister-city bond, forged through Nie’s legacy, underscores art’s power to bridge divides.

Nie Er’s story is more than a footnote in history; it is a testament to how one individual’s creativity can ignite the spirit of a nation. His anthem, born in crisis, endures as a global hymn of resistance and hope.