One episode in Taiwan’s forgotten, even deliberately buried, past has been recovered in the documentary Wansei Back Home (灣生回家). It starts in Jian Township (吉安), Hualien County, where few can recall life during the Japanese colonial era, when the place was known as Yoshino Village. It was one of the first Japanese settlements in Taiwan, built to encourage Japanese families to emigrate to the new colony.
Japanese settlers came with everything they had and a one-way ticket. They farmed, went to school and gradually made Taiwan their home. Then in August 1945 Japan surrendered to the Allies, ending World War II. More than 470,000 Japanese were repatriated, with over half that number accounting for wansei, or Japanese citizens born in Taiwan during the colonial period from 1895 to 1945.
These wansei, many of whom considered Taiwan their home, were met with discrimination and hostility upon returning home to post-war Japan.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing Company
Wansei Back Home began as a personal project when Mika Tanaka first visited Jian in 2003, when she was determined to learn more about her late grandmother, who had kept her wansei identity secret.
Since then, Tanaka has found over 200 survivors, most in their 70s and 80s, across Japan and Taiwan. She teamed up with a Taiwanese film crew, including director Huang Ming-cheng (黃銘正) and composer Baby C (鍾興民), and produced an intimate, heartfelt portrait of the wansei through interviews, old photographs, archival footage and animated sequences.
As the wansei visit their childhood homes, it immediately becomes apparent that they’ve maintained a deep connection to Taiwan.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing Company
Eighty-eight year-old Masaru Tominaga, for example, can still speak Hoklo and sing old Taiwanese ballads such as Flowers in the Rainy Night (雨夜花). His home in Tokushima is crammed with books about Taiwan. During his trip to Hualien, the octogenarian bursts into tears when he learns that all his old friends have passed away.
Kosei Matsumoto, who also visited Hualien, says that growing up the child of farmers in Taiwan made it extremely difficult to assimilate into Japanese society. Nobuko Takenaka says repatriation was particularly daunting for her family, who had settled in Suao for three generations before the end of World War II.
Eighty-five year-old Taeko Iekura agrees. However, she adds that she has come to terms with the fact that her birth in Taiwan has forever branded her a foreigner in Japan.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing Company
Although many wansei recall with nostalgia their life in Taiwan and the hardship and poverty they faced after they arrived in Japan, the documentary largely avoids direct criticism.
Iekura says that even though her father worked as a government official at the Office of the Governor-General of Taiwan, her family had no place to live after returning to Japan and were forced to seek shelter at different temples.
With its rarely discussed and obscure subject matter, Wansei Back Home calls out for deeper treatment than is offered here. Nevertheless, the film makes an adequate attempt at rediscovering personal histories and serves as a starting point for those interested in examining more about the past before those who can narrate it first hand disappear.
Taiwan’s English education system is being pulled apart by three opposing forces. Bilingual Nation 2030 pulls students toward English and global communication. Artificial Intelligence (AI) readiness pulls them toward digital judgment, verification and AI-mediated work. But Taiwan’s old exam culture pulls them back toward memorization, grammar drills, timed reading and correct answers. If the education system keeps using old exams to define success, it risks producing graduates who are neither genuinely bilingual nor genuinely AI-ready, but trained for tasks machines can already perform. The first force is Bilingual Nation 2030. Launched in 2018, the policy aimed to “help Taiwan’s workforce connect
It seems every few days one bumps into one of those “real man” comments in which Taiwan is urged to “face reality” or similar, and “make a deal,” with the speaker implying that soon it will be too late. “Deal” advocates always present themselves as having a superior grip on reality, and the manly ability to make the “hard choice.” Their testosterone-laden language often echoes that of Taiwan sellout advocates. Note that such commentary always specifies a process (“make a deal, work with, make progress”), never the end state of what occupation by a violent authoritarian colonialist state will entail. In
There are shadowy cabals plotting to sell out Taiwan to be annexed by China, by invasion if necessary. Fortunately, they are buffoons. In 2019, former Bamboo Union gangster and founder of the China Unification Promotion Party (CUPP), Chang An-le (張安樂, colorfully known as “White Wolf”), led a protest at the Legislative Yuan against comments made by then-premier Su Tseng-chang (蘇貞昌) that in the event of an attack by China, he would never surrender, but would protect the nation by fighting to the end, even if he only had a broom. Chang had party members bring a wooden casket that they
June 1 to June 7 "If all Taiwanese were as afraid of dying as you, then what would happen?” Physician Shih Chiang-nan (施江南) reportedly said this to his wife Chen Chiao-tung (陳焦桐) after she urged him to stop intervening on behalf of Taiwanese soldiers stranded overseas after serving in the Japanese Army during World War II. Shih had clashed with high-ranking officials over the issue, engaged in several heated arguments with Taiwan governor-general Chen Yi (陳儀) and allegedly shouted at general Ko Yuan-fen (柯遠芬), chief of staff of the Taiwan Garrison Command, over