May 15 to May 21
He was born exactly 85 years before farmers traveled to Taipei on May 20, 1988 to participate in what is considered Taiwan’s largest peasant movement since World War II. It’s probably a coincidence that they marched on his birthday, but Chien Chi (簡吉) was a notable peasants’ rights organizer during the Japanese colonial era, also leading a group of farmers to Taipei in 1926 to protest the government’s agricultural policy.
SEEDS OF DISCONTENT
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Chien grew up in a farming family in what is today’s Fengshan District (鳳山) in Kaohsiung. He recalls that his parents had to “work like cows and horses,” and that his younger brother had to quit school to help in the fields. Chien was lucky enough to graduate from Tainan Normal School (台南師範學校) and became a local schoolteacher.
It was a respected position, but Chien’s discontent grew as he saw that many of his students suffered from lethargy after toiling in the fields after school, often missing class during the busy season.
“Although these children attend school, they are too exhausted for any education to be effective,” he told a judge while on trial years later for violating a publishing law. “I felt that I was a thief, earning a monthly salary for achieving nothing.”
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Chien further detailed the hardships dealt to peasants in the Fengshan area by the Japanese government. Yang Du (楊渡) provides an overview of these injustices in his biography of Chien, The Man who Led Peasants (簡吉: 台灣農民運動史詩).
Starting around 1905, all arable land where the farmer could not prove ownership went to the state, causing them to lose their means of survival. Much of this land was later offered to retired Japanese officials to entice them to remain in Taiwan. The government also wanted to promote sugar production in Taiwan, intimidating peasants into selling the land at unreasonable prices to both Japanese and Taiwanese sugar manufacturers.
The government also seized land by dubious means. Chien mentions a case when the government forcefully purchased Fengshan farmland in 1906 to set up a “demonstration farm.” Yang Pi-chuan (楊碧川) writes in History of Taiwanese Resistance During Japanese Rule (日據時代台灣人反抗史) that by 1945, the colonial government had made public about 21 percent of Taiwan’s arable land.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
The authorities encouraged farmers to grow sugarcane for the sugar factories, and they essentially became tenant farmers. As their only buyers, the factory owners exploited the farmers, who barely made enough to survive.
“I felt an infinite sadness watching this happen around me and decided to fight for their rights,” Chien concluded in his court statement.
TAKING UP THE FIGHT
Shortly after he left his teaching post, Chien became head of the Fengshan Peasants Union (鳳山農民組合). The first battle was against the local sugar factory, which had taken back land rented to tenant farmers to expand its facilities. With Chien leading the charge, the union convinced the factory to allow the peasants to farm for seven more years.
It was the first peasant victory in Taiwan, and Chien became a hero. He began touring the country’s farming villages, sharing his experiences and encouraging them to fight for their rights.
“He was the only ‘professional peasant revolutionary’ during Japanese rule, meaning that he had no other job,” Yang writes.
The government’s decision to offer land without clear ownership to retired officials in 1925 was the key event that would unite Taiwan’s farmers. Clashes between peasants and police broke out in several locations, and on June 28, 1926, five regional unions merged into the Taiwan Peasants Union with Chien in charge. A month later, Chien and fellow activist Chao Kang (趙港) led a group of farmers to Taipei to protest at the Governor-General’s office, but to no avail.
Activity intensified over the next few years, with more than 400 incidents between 1927 and 1928. Chien, a skilled orator, continued touring, sometimes attracting more than 1,000 people. By the end of 1928, the union boasted 27 branches.
Chang Hsien-tang (張獻堂) writes in The Study of Chien Chi and the Taiwan Peasant Movement (論簡吉與農民運動) that Chien’s rhetoric started to lean toward the left after he visited Japan in early 1927, when he won the support of Japanese socialist peasant revolutionaries.
For example, he wrote in a 1927 Taiwan Minpao (台灣民報) editorial, “We need to raise our class consciousness, unite and fight! Everyone should join the struggle for survival. Japanese capitalism is about to collapse, and so is global capitalism. We shall liberate everyone from oppression.”
Things started going downhill after 1928. The newly-formed Taiwan Communist Party (台灣共產黨) also had an interest in peasant rights, and the Japanese became wary of the collaboration between the two organizations. Chien earned his first jail sentence during a government crackdown on the union in 1929, but there was no evidence that he was a communist.
In 1931, the Japanese carried out another communist raid, and Chien received 10 years this time. Chien Chung-jen (簡炯仁) writes in an article for Taiwan Culture (台灣文化) magazine that in addition to the leaders being arrested, the peasant movement had stagnated since a large number of farmers had moved to cities after losing their land. Also, the government improved the tenant farming system, reducing the number of suffering farmers and their cause to rebel.
That was the same year Japan invaded Manchuria, and as its imperialism intensified, the government became less tolerant of unrest. The peasant movement fizzled out shortly after.
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.
Wooden houses wedged between concrete, crumbling brick facades with roofs gaping to the sky, and tiled art deco buildings down narrow alleyways: Taichung Central District’s (中區) aging architecture reveals both the allure and reality of the old downtown. From Indigenous settlement to capital under Qing Dynasty rule through to Japanese colonization, Taichung’s Central District holds a long and layered history. The bygone beauty of its streets once earned it the nickname “Little Kyoto.” Since the late eighties, however, the shifting of economic and government centers westward signaled a gradual decline in the area’s evolving fortunes. With the regeneration of the once
Even by the standards of Ukraine’s International Legion, which comprises volunteers from over 55 countries, Han has an unusual backstory. Born in Taichung, he grew up in Costa Rica — then one of Taiwan’s diplomatic allies — where a relative worked for the embassy. After attending an American international high school in San Jose, Costa Rica’s capital, Han — who prefers to use only his given name for OPSEC (operations security) reasons — moved to the US in his teens. He attended Penn State University before returning to Taiwan to work in the semiconductor industry in Kaohsiung, where he
In February of this year the Taipei Times reported on the visit of Lienchiang County Commissioner Wang Chung-ming (王忠銘) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and a delegation to a lantern festival in Fuzhou’s Mawei District in Fujian Province. “Today, Mawei and Matsu jointly marked the lantern festival,” Wang was quoted as saying, adding that both sides “being of one people,” is a cause for joy. Wang was passing around a common claim of officials of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and the PRC’s allies and supporters in Taiwan — KMT and the Taiwan People’s Party — and elsewhere: Taiwan and
Perched on Thailand’s border with Myanmar, Arunothai is a dusty crossroads town, a nowheresville that could be the setting of some Southeast Asian spaghetti Western. Its main street is the final, dead-end section of the two-lane highway from Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second largest city 120kms south, and the heart of the kingdom’s mountainous north. At the town boundary, a Chinese-style arch capped with dragons also bears Thai script declaring fealty to Bangkok’s royal family: “Long live the King!” Further on, Chinese lanterns line the main street, and on the hillsides, courtyard homes sit among warrens of narrow, winding alleyways and