Taiwan in Time: Feb. 22 to Feb. 28
On the evening of March 11, 1947, as Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) reinforcements from China clashed with local protesters throughout Taiwan, Lin Mo-seng (林茂生), founder of the Minpao (民報) newspaper and dean of liberal arts at National Taiwan University, was reportedly escorted from his family home by six men, never to be heard from again.
As the first Taiwanese to receive a Doctor of Philosophy degree, Lin was one of many intellectuals targeted by the China-based KMT government during its violent suppression following the 228 Incident, which began as an armed local uprising. A large number of Taiwan’s private newspapers, which sprung up after Japan’s surrender in August 1945, were shut down within two weeks of the initial incident, including Lin’s Minpao.
Photo: Meng Ching-tsu, Taipei Times
Not to be confused with the Japanese-era Taiwan Minpao (台灣民報), Lin’s paper made its debut on Oct. 10, 1945. Never afraid to criticize the government and including a column for citizen voices, it quickly became the most widely read private paper.
A quick sample of editorials during its brief existence shows titles such as “Are the People of Taiwan Really Happy?,” clearly reflecting the rising tension between local inhabitants and the newcomers from China.
One editorial, printed on July 24, 1946, even goes as far as stating that government corruption and nepotism is a “bad habit from the motherland that is now being picked up by Taiwanese.” It is not too hard to see why he would have upset the KMT.
Photo courtesy of National Library of Public Information
Interestingly, no institution in Taiwan appears to possess any record of this newspaper past Feb. 28, 1947, even though most sources have it printing its last issue on March 8, three days before Lin’s arrest.
The only reports available during the incident in the National Central Library’s newspaper archives are from the Taiwan Shin Sheng Daily News (台灣新生報), which was the official publication of the Taiwan Provincial Government, and the KMT-run China Daily News (中華日報).
The book, Lin Mo-seng, Chen Hsin and Their Era (林茂生, 陳炘和他們的年代) details Lin’s final days, as told to author Lee Hsiao-feng (李筱峰) by Lin’s son, Lin Tsung-yi (林宗義).
The younger Lin recalls his father responding to the incident, saying “Taiwanese are ready to tell the Mainlanders that we have had enough of being treated as second-class citizens, and we have had enough of authoritarian rule and government corruption that has been going on since October 1945.”
But Lin also denounced the use of force against the government, warning that violence is an ineffective method that would lead to disastrous results.
“The key to our future is democracy and respectful relations between Taiwanese and Mainlanders. We [Minpao] still face a momentous task in front of us,” he adds.
On March 4, after meeting with the 228 Incident Resolution Committee, Lin lamented to his son that this uprising lacked clear leadership and organization and that it was going nowhere.
The next day, Lin’s Japanese friend warned him that he was in danger. Even though Lin didn’t overtly participate in the uprising, he and his newspaper’s influence in society already posed a threat to the KMT.
On March 8, Taiwan governor Chen Yi’s (陳儀) reinforcement troops landed in Keelung as the government rejected all 32 demands made by the resolution committee, and the crackdown became increasingly violent. Minpao’s office was destroyed that night.
Lin Tsung-yi was notified by a servant of his father’s arrest in the morning of March 11. When Lin Mo-seng’s wife asked the men where they were taking him, one of them reportedly replied, “We’re going to see Chen Yi.”
Official charges against Lin included plotting rebellion, encouraging [NTU] students to riot and attempting to use international interference to achieve Taiwanese independence.
Most historians agree that the real reason Lin was arrested was because of his newspaper’s criticism of the government. And it was not just Lin.
The publishers of other private newspapers, such as the People’s Herald’s (人民導報) Wang Tien-teng (王添?) and Ta Ming Pao’s (大明報) Ai Lu-sheng (艾璐生), were also taken away never to be seen again.
But the most curious part of this is that even Juan Chao-jih, (阮朝日), general manager of the government’s Shin Sheng Daily News, became a victim of this media purge, together with editor Wu Chin-lien (吳金鍊) and other staff members.
On March 25, the Shin Sheng Daily News announced its new general manager and editor-in-chief, who were high-ranking military and government officials.
What happened to these people and how the newspaper’s coverage changed under the new management will be examined in next week’s edition of “Taiwan in Time.”
Part II appears in next Sunday’s Taipei Times.
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.
When the writer Fredick King Poole visited Taiwan in the late 1960s, he was struck by “the sad little sun flag over the airport proclaiming this to be China itself, the announcement over the plane’s PA system that picture-taking was not allowed because this island was in fact a great nation at war, the portraits everywhere of poor old discredited Chiang.” By Chiang, he of course meant Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), then leader of Taiwan’s authoritarian party-state, and the “sad little sun flag” was that of Chiang’s Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). Poole, who included these satirical digs in his 1971 novel
The media abounded with takes on President William Lai’s (賴清德) address, making apples and oranges comparisons between the speeches of the former bureaucrat Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) and the former legislator and city mayor Lai. This comparison could only favor Tsai, steeped in the sharp, tight-lipped curtness of the bureaucracy, over Lai, a lifelong politician and talker. As so many of us predicted, there was much disingenuous repetition of Lai’s “I’m a pragmatic worker for Taiwan independence” to suggest that Lai is some kind of out-of-control firebrand — as if Tsai were not equally a pragmatic worker for Taiwan independence. What
Alighting at Danhai New Town (淡海新市真站) in New Taipei City, the penultimate station of the Tamsui (淡水) light rail line, I make my way westwards, passing nondescript apartment blocks until I come within view of the Taiwan Strait. On reaching the corner of Sinshihwu Road (新市五路) and Houjhou Road (後州路), a young couple carrying a takeaway bottle of white wine pass me en route to Haiweizih Beach (海尾子海灘), a popular spot to watch the sunset. The bottle was purchased from my first port of call, Bar Qvevri (陶甕自然酒吧), which promises “natural and authentic wines” on its official Instagram account. Although the
When the foreign press describes Taiwan’s democracy as “boisterous,” it almost always follows another brawling incident in the legislature. No doubt we will be seeing this word frequently. On Friday, throughout the day struggles and brawls broke out. The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) legislative caucuses camped out the night before to ensure their members could successfully fortify the podium to ensure proceedings could go forward, but as expected, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) caucus made multiple forays to attempt to seize the podium to disrupt any further legislative activity. Unfortunately, the multiple melees led to