Taiwan in Time: Nov. 16 to Nov. 22
Having already been sentenced to death in absentia and with the Japanese colonial police closing in, Liao Tien-ting (廖添丁) still met an unexpected end in a cave in what is today New Taipei City’s Bali District (八里). On the run after a three-month crime spree, the most common version of events is that Liao was betrayed by his friend Yang Lin (楊林), who informed the police about Liao’s whereabouts. Liao tried to shoot Yang upon realizing the truth, but the bullet got stuck. Yang picked up a nearby hoe and crushed Liao’s skull. It was 1909, and Liao was 26 years old.
There are probably as many versions of Liao’s death as there are of his life and legacy, and even the day of his death, Nov. 18, is disputed. After all, who knows what’s real or not about this anti-Japanese folk hero — often considered Taiwan’s Robin Hood — whose story has been adapted into countless children’s books, novels, television programs and even an orchestral suite and Cloud Gate Dance Theatre (雲門舞集) performance. He’s worshipped at the Liao Tien-ting Temple (廖添丁廟) in Bali — which also houses his grave — and in other places such as the Xia Hai City God Temple (霞海城隍廟) in Taipei.
Photo: Ou Su-mei, Taipei Times
Even the story about his gravestone is legendary. It’s said that shortly after Liao’s death, the wife of a Japanese officer who pursued Liao became ill. Desperate to seek a cure, the officer followed local advice to pray at Liao’s burial place and his wife recovered soon after. The officer then erected the gravestone and worshipped Liao as a foster son.
In July this year, the Taipei District Court displayed for the first time a verdict sentencing Liao to death for the killing of alleged police informant Chen Liang-chiu (陳良久), even though Liao died before he could be arrested. To the Japanese at that time, he was no more than a robber and murderer, but to Taiwanese it was a completely different matter.
According to the Taiwan Daily News (台灣日日新報), a newspaper published during the Japanese colonial era, people visited and prayed at Liao’s grave regularly, believing that as a ghost he could cure sickness and perform other miracles. A January 1910 article stated that there was no more space in front of the grave to place joss sticks. The Japanese banned the practice in March that year, but Liao’s legend simply kept growing as an yizei (義賊, righteous criminal) who fought against colonial injustice by robbing the rich and giving to the poor.
Photo: Chang Jui-chen, Taipei Times
His heroic deeds and extraordinary abilities are still celebrated today, as a children’s book published in 2008 depicts some of Liao’s most famous moments, including saving an old man from police brutality with the throw of a pebble, robbing a man who made his fortune by colluding with the Japanese, jumping out of windows, flying over roofs and disguising himself as an old lady while being pursued. Other books show Liao being involved in anti-Japanese organizations, one even stating that both his parents were killed in a Japanese invasion of their village.
Born in today’s Taichung in 1883, Liao was 12 years old when Taiwan became part of Japan. His household registry shows that he was sentenced in 1902 to 10 months and 15 days in prison for larceny, his third offense. Some say he was locked up between 1905 and 1909 for his fifth offense, and others say he continued committing minor robberies and thefts during that time.
Liao’s final spree began in July 1909, including an incident on Aug. 20 where he and several accomplices stole guns, ammunition and a sword from two police dormitories. He also killed Chen during this time, frequently making headlines as the man who just could not be caught. After committing his final string of robberies in early November, Liao fled to the cave where he ultimately met his end.
That’s all that is certain about Liao’s life; the rest probably grew out of embellishments by locals, who reconstructed Liao as a spiritual hero to ease their frustration against their colonial masters — after all, who doesn’t like stories where the oppressors are terrorized?
Historian Tsai Chin-tang (蔡錦堂) says that Liao’s legendary abilities are mostly likely rooted in newspaper reports detailing his elusiveness, including how he jumped out of a moving train, fell into a valley and survived.
After his death, Liao made headlines a few more times, including one about people claiming to have seen his ghost. His crime spree was also adapted by a Japanese playwright in 1911.
As to the story that he was Taiwan’s Robin Hood, there is no concrete evidence that Liao gave his loot to the poor. But as early as 1914, a Taiwanese opera script about Liao was published, already bearing the “righteous outlaw” moniker.
After the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) took over Taiwan, Liao’s image transformed once more — this time into an anti-Japanese hero. But things didn’t stop there, as he was well on the road to deification.
There had already been many supernatural tales about Liao, including the one with the Japanese officer and others about his spirit appearing here and there to administer justice. People at that time believed that if a vigorous person died, he would become a powerful ghost, and started praying at his grave for various reasons, including health and fortune. Another belief was that someone who died a violent or unnatural death would become a ligui (厲鬼, vengeful ghost) and must be pacified through worship.
Liao’s grave was rebuilt after the Japanese left and worshipping resumed. Interest in Liao grew after a feature film was made about his life in 1956, and a small shrine was built around his resting place in 1958.
Locals tried to expand the temple with Liao as the main deity in the 1970s, but the government rejected the proposal due to lack of historic evidence of his heroic deeds. The temple was still built, but with Guan Gong (關公), also a real-life hero-type, as the main deity and Liao as secondary. Nevertheless, most people refer to it as the Liao Tien-ting Temple, and with its completion in 1975, Liao had completed his journey from wanted criminal to a worshipped deity.
Taiwan in Time, a column about Taiwan’s history that is published every Sunday, spotlights important or interesting events around the nation that have anniversaries this week.
What was the population of Taiwan when the first Negritos arrived? In 500BC? The 1st century? The 18th? These questions are important, because they can contextualize the number of babies born last month, 6,523, to all the people on Taiwan, indigenous and colonial alike. That figure represents a year on year drop of 3,884 babies, prefiguring total births under 90,000 for the year. It also represents the 26th straight month of deaths exceeding births. Why isn’t this a bigger crisis? Because we don’t experience it. Instead, what we experience is a growing and more diverse population. POPULATION What is Taiwan’s actual population?
After Jurassic Park premiered in 1993, people began to ask if scientists could really bring long-lost species back from extinction, just like in the hit movie. The idea has triggered “de-extinction” debates in several countries, including Taiwan, where the focus has been on the Formosan clouded leopard (designated after 1917 as Neofelis nebulosa brachyura). National Taiwan Museum’s (NTM) Web site describes the Formosan clouded leopard as “a subspecies endemic to Taiwan…it reaches a body length of 0.6m to 1.2m and tail length of 0.7m to 0.9m and weighs between 15kg and 30kg. It is entirely covered with beautiful cloud-like spots
For the past five years, Sammy Jou (周祥敏) has climbed Kinmen’s highest peak, Taiwu Mountain (太武山) at 6am before heading to work. In the winter, it’s dark when he sets out but even at this hour, other climbers are already coming down the mountain. All of this is a big change from Jou’s childhood during the Martial Law period, when the military requisitioned the mountain for strategic purposes and most of it was off-limits. Back then, only two mountain trails were open, and they were open only during special occasions, such as for prayers to one’s ancestors during Lunar New Year.
March 23 to March 29 Kao Chang (高長) set strict rules for his descendants: women were to learn music or cooking, and the men medicine or theology. No matter what life path they chose, they were to use their skills in service of the Presbyterian Church and society. As a result, musical ability — particularly in Western instruments — was almost expected among the Kao women, and even those who married into the family often had musical training. Although the men did not typically play instruments, they played a supporting role, helping to organize music programs such as children’s orchestras, writes
RSS