This year, the Spring Festival—or Chinese New Year—falls on 17 February. China has traditionally gone by the lunar year, not the solar. And according to the Chinese zodiac, we’re moving from the year of the snake to the year of the horse.
They’re sure different species. Horses are full of promise and much more popular among humans. Unlike the crawling snake, horses are progressive, friendly, majestic and heroes for their speed. Until the modern era, they were by far the fastest way to travel. And they are very easy to love, because of their loyalty and reliability. They are associated with energy, movement and charisma. According to ChatGPT, there are 3,600,000 domestic horses in China in 2026, as well as 900 wild Przewalski horses, and about 60,000,000 in the world. That’s somewhat less than when mechanisation made them less essential for war, labour and transport. But their status was always high, certainly higher than the snake’s.
In Chinese pictorial culture, horses are very common. We find statues and pictures of them going back to ancient times. Some of the small statues of horses from the Han (206 BCE to 220 CE) and Tang (618-907) dynasties, such as the “heavenly horses of the Han dynasty”, are famous to this day. And from the earliest times, we find horses being buried along with rulers.
Who are some famous people born in a horse year? South African anti-apartheid fighter Nelson Mandela (1918-2013), Communist Party of China General Secretary HU Jintao (born 1942), former German chancellor Angela Merkel (born in 1954), and Chinese martial artist Jackie Chan (born 1954). There’s certainly energy and charisma in that lot.
And is there a difference between the fire horse and other horse years? It is rational that the fire horse is associated with strong emotions, intensity, rapid change and bold leadership. But there are risks that involve volatility and conflict. Fire-horse years can be dangerous but powerful.
In China, the last fire-horse year was 1966. As it happens, I was teaching in China then, and I remember it very well. It was the year the Cultural Revolution began. I remember my students disappearing to take part in politics, and Red Guards destroying temples, churches and, if they could, ancient works of art. The gates of the Forbidden City were tightly locked so that nobody could go in. I heard that it was on the orders of Premier Zhou Enlai, the suave diplomat who managed to remain influential throughout despite the surrounding chaos. I recall people being paraded through the streets with placards around their necks, labelled as reactionaries. It was a year characterised by the bold and charismatic, but ultimately excessive, even insane, leadership of Mao Zedong (1893-1976).
It was a year when international relations were bad, to put it mildly. China and the Soviet Union hated each other, and the same was true of the West and China. The Soviet Union and the West were also at loggerheads, but tried to get along. In 1965, foreign troops—especially American but including Australian—had intervened in Vietnam, and the war raged throughout 1966.
In summary, the year 1966 was a dynamic year of turbulence, a once-in-a-generation year of rapid change.
They were very disturbed times. Is it as bad now? Well, there are certainly similarities on a worldwide basis, with the unpredictable Donald J. Trump and his tariffs and narcissism causing economic and other uncertainties everywhere. But is it going to be more violent, or less? It’s good to have a cease-fire in Gaza, but it is still very uncertain how effective it will be. Iran and the U.S. are glaring at each other, with war a distinct possibility. There’s a chance of the Ukraine war winding down, though Russia, aided by a severe winter, is causing suffering on a dreadful scale.
Trump is angry because he didn’t win a Nobel Peace Prize, but it looks as though his more peaceful world is as delusional as real. I’m not optimistic that the coming fire-horse year will be particularly peaceful. It could well be passionate and full of change. US society is fracturing dangerously, and others in the West are far from united. The atomic scientists who devised the Doomsday Clock announced late in January this year that, with only 85 seconds to midnight, the world has never been in a more dangerous place. But there are some good things. Life expectancy at birth is projected at 73.4 years worldwide for 2026. Of course, it’s miserable in some places, but that is far higher than in 1966, when the world’s life expectancy at birth was about 56.5 years.
Sinophobia is still very much alive as we enter the horse year. The snake year hasn’t ended well for Chinese politics. The coming fire-horse year may be one of change, but far less turbulent than in 1966. China is much more rational and eager for positive change. If it’s in the grip of a revolution, it is towards better development, infrastructure and technology, not one in Marxist-Leninist ideology, as it was in 1966.
Last year, when talking of the year of the snake, I predicted there would be no Sino-US war over Taiwan. I turned out to be right. I would make the same prediction this year, though with less confidence. Some commentators are warning that China wants to bring Taiwan back into the Chinese fold quickly, against the will of the people in Taiwan. My own view is that the Chinese could probably work it out more rationally if left to their own devices. But the passions said to be typical of a fire-horse year might point in a different direction. People in China are remembering the last fire-horse year (1966), but recall it as context, not a model. They are MUCH more optimistic about the present one. They see rapid change, progress, energy and majesty on the horizon much more than turbulence. The sign is technological progress—in some respects—leading the world. All I can say is that in China, there were many active signs in 1966 of trouble ahead, and these are quite different now. So, I still hope that the fire-horse year pointers towards an improved economy and more energetic society will turn out reasonable.
Colin Mackerras AO FAHA is Professor Emeritus at the Griffith Asia Institute, Griffith Business School
