Putting pigs behind us, today marks the beginning of the Year of the Rat, the first animal in the Chinese zodiac.
Dirty little vermin you might say, with no place in the exulted pantheon of heavenly symbols that make up the Chinese zodiac. But the rat's cunning is legendary: It got into the zodiac by winning a race using brainpower rather than physical power. As with most myths, there are many versions of the story that follows, but the general idea is this.
Back in deepest antiquity, the story goes, the Jade Emperor, ruler of heaven, decided to organize a race for all the animals of the earth. The stakes: The first 12 to finish would be included in the cycle of zodiac animals by which the heavens and time itself were organized. The cat and the rat, both lazy creatures, weren't sure they could get up in time for the big event. They asked the ox to wake them at dawn on the day of the race. The big day came along and the ox dutifully went to wake them. Try as it might, it couldn't. They just murmured, rolled over and went back to sleep.
ILLUSTRATION: JERRY HUANG
Unable to wake them, the ox coaxed the two lazy animals onto his back and set off to join the race. The cat and rat remained there when the race began.
Fast forward to the end of the race. The ox, with his enormous strength and determination, was ahead of the rest. The final hurdle was a river, and as the ox waded across, the rat finally woke. It realized it could never beat the cat in the final sprint to the finish, so grasping the chance fate offered, it pushed the still-sleeping cat into the river. When the ox got to the other side, the rat jumped off its back and scampered across the finish line just ahead of the ox. That's why in the Chinese zodiac the rat is always listed first and is followed by the ox. It is also why the cat is not in the Chinese zodiac and the enmity between cat and mouse continues to this day.
BRAIN VS brawn
The relationship between the rat and the ox, which helped the rat win the race, is one of the most highly regarded pairings within the zodiac. The rat represents intelligence, but without the diligence of the ox this easily degenerates into cunning. On the other hand, the ox with its enormous strength could have made it to the finish line first if it had been a little sharper. Put the qualities of the two together and you have an unbeatable combination. But how to make that combination come about depends on your stars.
Unfortunately, the undesirable characteristics of the rat have become more commonplace in everyday language, with the lexicon focusing more on their cunning than their intelligence. "The rat sees only an inch in front of its face" (鼠目寸光, shumuchunguang), is used to describe a person who cannot see beyond immediate personal gain. "Head of a water deer and face of a rat" (獐頭鼠面, zhangtoushumian) refers to someone thoroughly untrustworthy and "ruined by rat-like suspicion" (鼠首僨事, shushoufenshi) refers to a person full of hesitation and suspicion who undermines a joint project.
It's not a good record, and a person born in the year of the rat might well feel that he or she is like "a rat crossing the road" (老鼠過街, laoshuguojie) - a target of common abuse (人人喊打, renrenhanda).
Even when we look to the fortune-tellers, it is clear that despite the rat coming first in the list of zodiac symbols, it is a birth sign loaded with bad character traits. The rat is lazy (it needed the ox to take it to the races), an opportunist and a gossip. Looking on the brighter side, the rat is sociable, imaginative and adaptable. They are also sensitive to their environment, and it is well known that rats are the first to leave a sinking ship. It is a quality they can turn to their advantage. In general, people born in the Year of the Rat are suited to be artists, inventors, revolutionaries and politicians. It might be worth taking a tally of the number of rats in government.
So another cycle of the Chinese zodiac begins. It's worth noting that while the rat managed to win the race despite its laziness, the pig, which came in 12th, was last because it stopped mid-race to eat and take a nap.
But however you to get through the finish line in the Year of the Rat, we at the Taipei Times wish you a very happy New Year and the best of fortune.
It’s a good thing that 2025 is over. Yes, I fully expect we will look back on the year with nostalgia, once we have experienced this year and 2027. Traditionally at New Years much discourse is devoted to discussing what happened the previous year. Let’s have a look at what didn’t happen. Many bad things did not happen. The People’s Republic of China (PRC) did not attack Taiwan. We didn’t have a massive, destructive earthquake or drought. We didn’t have a major human pandemic. No widespread unemployment or other destructive social events. Nothing serious was done about Taiwan’s swelling birth rate catastrophe.
Words of the Year are not just interesting, they are telling. They are language and attitude barometers that measure what a country sees as important. The trending vocabulary around AI last year reveals a stark divergence in what each society notices and responds to the technological shift. For the Anglosphere it’s fatigue. For China it’s ambition. For Taiwan, it’s pragmatic vigilance. In Taiwan’s annual “representative character” vote, “recall” (罷) took the top spot with over 15,000 votes, followed closely by “scam” (詐). While “recall” speaks to the island’s partisan deadlock — a year defined by legislative recall campaigns and a public exhausted
In the 2010s, the Communist Party of China (CCP) began cracking down on Christian churches. Media reports said at the time that various versions of Protestant Christianity were likely the fastest growing religions in the People’s Republic of China (PRC). The crackdown was part of a campaign that in turn was part of a larger movement to bring religion under party control. For the Protestant churches, “the government’s aim has been to force all churches into the state-controlled organization,” according to a 2023 article in Christianity Today. That piece was centered on Wang Yi (王怡), the fiery, charismatic pastor of the
Hsu Pu-liao (許不了) never lived to see the premiere of his most successful film, The Clown and the Swan (小丑與天鵝, 1985). The movie, which starred Hsu, the “Taiwanese Charlie Chaplin,” outgrossed Jackie Chan’s Heart of Dragon (龍的心), earning NT$9.2 million at the local box office. Forty years after its premiere, the film has become the Taiwan Film and Audiovisual Institute’s (TFAI) 100th restoration. “It is the only one of Hsu’s films whose original negative survived,” says director Kevin Chu (朱延平), one of Taiwan’s most commercially successful