When Mangus and his Atayal people settled on a remote mountain in Hsinchu County after a journey from Nantou County some 400 years ago, they may not have thought of it as a "Promised Land."
Today, however, 135 descendents of those early settlers have founded the first Israeli-style kibbutz "socialist commune" in an effort to protect their culture and tap the eco-tourist dollar.
PHOTO: AFP
Reputedly the most isolated community in Taiwan, until recently the Smangus Atayal eked out a basic living from hunting and slash-and-burn agriculture on the mountain plateau sited at an altitude of 1,600m and surrounded by higher peaks.
Their way of life had seemed under threat as the youth of the tribe abandoned the mountain, lured by the opportunities in Taiwan's modern cities, where they often found themselves treated as second-class citizens.
Taiwan's 430,000 Aboriginals, whom anthropologists believe originally migrated from Malaysia or Indonesia, are among the country's most deprived communities.
Unemployment runs at 15 percent among them and 48 percent survive on less than NT$10,000 a month, a third of the average wage, according to independent lawmaker Kao Chin Su-mei (
More recently, however, the Atayal culture and a nearby grove of up to 1,000 ancient Formosan cypress trees, known as "divine trees," have drawn increasing numbers of eco-tourists to Smangus, an isolated village named after their ancestor.
"Thank our ancestors who gave us this land," says 69-year-old Icyh Sulong who is now head of the village.
Each week hundreds of tourists make the uncomfortable journey along bumpy mountain roads to see the giant trees and learn about the Atayal, who formerly hunted the local wildlife.
"My father had killed or captured 20-odd bears before he died," says 23-year-old Tqbil Icyan of his father Icyan.
While he died 20 years ago after a fall from a transport cable linking two mountains, the tribe believes the bears had their revenge.
"We believe those bears killed by my father avenged their death," Tqbil says.
The Atayal today see greater benefits from sparing the wildlife and tracking down tourist dollars instead.
"When I first visited Smangus 15 years ago, Atayal people shot birds to treat me," says writer Wu Chih-ching. "I told them if they want to attract more visitors to this remote village, they had to protect wild animals," adds Wu, who has advised on improvements to the villages.
The Atayal followed his advice but the transformation to eco-tourism was not without problems. When the Smangus people built their first tourist chalets about seven years ago, persistent squabbles arose over how to make the most of the new opportunities.
The disputes eventually prompted them to adopt a commune-style way of life, modeled on the Israeli kibbutz, although the tribe is Christian: a sign at the entrance of the village reads "Smangus is God's Tribe."
"The idea was inspired by the Bible" which encourages Christians to share their property, Taqbil says.
After a group of Atayal leaders visited Israel on a fact-finding trip early this year to see how Israelis operate their kibbutz communities, the Smangus residents decided to extend the communal lifestyle by sharing their land deeds.
"Now we feel the relationship among our people is much closer than before," Batu Icyh says happily.
Smangus adults work Monday through Thursday, with their jobs ranging from farming to maintaining roads and cooking. They are also required to spend Saturday and Sunday serving tourists living in their chalets while Friday is the day of rest.
In return, each adult receives a monthly salary of NT$10,000 from the communal Smangus coffers.
"I am able to save most of my monthly salary because it takes several hours to get to the nearest towns and there are few places to spend our money here," says Tqbil.
Smangus also boasts a modern restaurant where the residents are provided free meals. Nearly all other family expenses, such as medical bills and school fees, are also met by the communal coffers.
Unlike their parents, who had to walk several hours to attend the nearest school, Smangus children now take lessons in the village, which is also connected to the Internet.
Three Smangus families, attracted by its eco-tourism
success, have returned, a trend residents would not have dreamed of until recently.
Wu hopes the successes of the Smangu Atayal can be duplicated among the rest of Taiwan's Aboriginal communities, who are often marginalized in the predominantly Han Chinese society.
"The possibility cannot be ruled out. However, it may take time," Wu says. "At least the other Aboriginal tribes can learn something from Smangus."
In the next few months tough decisions will need to be made by the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) and their pan-blue allies in the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). It will reveal just how real their alliance is with actual power at stake. Party founder Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) faced these tough questions, which we explored in part one of this series, “Ko Wen-je, the KMT’s prickly ally,” (Aug. 16, page 12). Ko was open to cooperation, but on his terms. He openly fretted about being “swallowed up” by the KMT, and was keenly aware of the experience of the People’s First Party
Aug. 25 to Aug. 31 Although Mr. Lin (林) had been married to his Japanese wife for a decade, their union was never legally recognized — and even their daughter was officially deemed illegitimate. During the first half of Japanese rule in Taiwan, only marriages between Japanese men and Taiwanese women were valid, unless the Taiwanese husband formally joined a Japanese household. In 1920, Lin took his frustrations directly to the Ministry of Home Affairs: “Since Japan took possession of Taiwan, we have obeyed the government’s directives and committed ourselves to breaking old Qing-era customs. Yet ... our marriages remain unrecognized,
Not long into Mistress Dispeller, a quietly jaw-dropping new documentary from director Elizabeth Lo, the film’s eponymous character lays out her thesis for ridding marriages of troublesome extra lovers. “When someone becomes a mistress,” she says, “it’s because they feel they don’t deserve complete love. She’s the one who needs our help the most.” Wang Zhenxi, a mistress dispeller based in north-central China’s Henan province, is one of a growing number of self-styled professionals who earn a living by intervening in people’s marriages — to “dispel” them of intruders. “I was looking for a love story set in China,” says Lo,
During the Metal Ages, prior to the arrival of the Dutch and Chinese, a great shift took place in indigenous material culture. Glass and agate beads, introduced after 400BC, completely replaced Taiwanese nephrite (jade) as the ornamental materials of choice, anthropologist Liu Jiun-Yu (劉俊昱) of the University of Washington wrote in a 2023 article. He added of the island’s modern indigenous peoples: “They are the descendants of prehistoric Formosans but have no nephrite-using cultures.” Moderns squint at that dynamic era of trade and cultural change through the mutually supporting lenses of later settler-colonialism and imperial power, which treated the indigenous as