Nov. 30 to Dec. 6
It is said that those who refused to vacate Kipatauw’s upper settlement were knocked unconscious by Japanese agents and dragged to fingerprint the deeds. The Japanese coveted the site’s valuable white clay for Beitou District’s (北投) growing ceramics industry, and they were determined to acquire it by any means.
The Indigenous Ketagalan settlement of Kipatauw had withstood centuries of external pressures and cultural erosion. Despite gradually losing much of their territory to Han settlers, they remained distinct into the early 20th century. By 1895, three communities persisted: the upper settlement near Gueizihkeng (貴子坑), the middle settlement near Fusinggang (復興崗) and the lower settlement of Fanzihcuo (番仔厝), now a short walk from Beitou MRT station.
Photo courtesy of the National Association for the Promotion of Community Universities
When Japanese anthropologist Kanori Ino visited the upper settlement in July 1896, (see “Echoes of Kipatauw: The first ethnographic record,” Nov. 23, 2025), he observed villagers tending their fields among orderly Han-style homes. They kept many traditional objects and each household treated him to pastries and tea.
By the 1910s, this settlement was no more. As the Japanese moved in to extract the clay, many residents relocated to the middle settlement — only to be uprooted again two decades later as the Japanese selected that site for Taiwan’s largest horse racing venue.
Over the following decades, modernization further scattered Kipatauw’s descendants across the greater Taipei area.
Photo courtesy of the National Association for the Promotion of Community Universities
LOSS OF LANDLORD RIGHTS
The Japanese adopted the Qing-era system that classified Indigenous peoples as “cooked” (熟) or “raw” (生) categories based on the level of assimilation and perceived “civilization,” and how easily they could be governed. “Cooked” groups such as the Ketagalan were incorporated into the same administrative system as the Han, losing the protections the Qing had extended to Indigenous communities, writes Chan Su-chuan (詹素娟) in “Recognition and changes in Pingpu Identity” (平埔族的身分認定與變遷).
For example, under Qing rule, Kipatauw’s people were part of the Indigenous landlord system (番大租), collecting “large rent” (大租) from Han sublessors, who then leased the land to Han farmers for “small rent” (小租), which was much more profitable, writes Qing official Chen Sheng-shao (陳盛韶) in Record of Local Customs (問俗錄). The large rent was inexpensive yet difficult to collect. When farmers fell behind on payments, Indigenous landlords still had to cover government taxes.
Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
As Han settlers grew in numbers and prosperity, Indigenous landlords faced growing financial pressure and were often compelled to sell their land. In 1886, the Qing tried to remedy the tax structure by reducing the amount landowners could collect by 40 percent and taxing sublessors directly — further undermining Indigenous livelihoods.
The Japanese colonial administration conducted an extensive cadastral survey between 1898 and 1905. Upon conclusion, it completely abolished large rent rights. Although Indigenous landholders received some compensation, this only hastened the loss of their remaining ancestral land.
CERAMICS AND HORSES
Photo courtesy of the Center for GIS, RCHSS, Academia Sinica
Pottery kilns had existed in Beitou since the Qing due to the abundant white clay near Kipatauw’s upper settlement, though production remained small. In 1896, Kametaro Matsumoto opened Shoto-en, one of Beitou’s first hot springs inns, and around 1911, he set up the Beitou Pottery Works, developing the renowned “Beitou ware” (北投燒) style.
During the 1910s, the Japanese forcefully acquired most of the community’s land to procure the clay, and descendants still recount the brutal way this was carried out. Many residents relocated to the middle settlement.
The Japanese introduced horse racing to Taiwan as early as 1897. Interest grew over the decades, with official races starting in 1928, attracting more than 15,000 spectators. In 1934, the first permanent racetrack was built by the Xindian River in the Guting area of Taipei’s Zhongzheng District (中正).
Photo courtesy of Pan’s great-grandson Pan Yen-ting
Under government support, horse racing surged in popularity, prompting the Taipei Prefecture Livestock Association to plan a new facility. Songshan (松山) and Sanchong (三重) districts were initially considered, but Beitou was ultimately chosen for its accessibility from Taipei. The planned site was on the land of the middle settlement — forcing the residents to move once again by 1939, this time to the lower settlement of Fanzihcuo.
The track opened the following year, boasting a 1,800m oval course with seating for 20,000 spectators, the largest in Taiwan at that time.
IDENTITY CRISIS
Photo courtesy of Taiwan Daily News
Taiwan’s first census in 1905 listed the Pingpu (plains Indigenous) as “cooked.” Yet, Chan writes that these designations were often subjective and arbitrary.
Every person had to be assigned a single category with no room for ambiguity, which was problematic for those of mixed descent. Classification generally followed three main criteria: patrilineal descent (regardless of blood relation), current lifestyle and household language. By this time most Ketagalan had already adopted Han customs and language.
Taipei Prefecture counted 566 “cooked” residents that year in a total population of 445,115. The 1920 census broke it down further, showing 84 in Beitou Village; this number dropped to 54 by 1935 — the first census to replace “cooked” in favor of “Pingpu,” writes Liang Ting-yu (梁廷毓) in “History of Kipatauw: An Examination and Reflection on Indigenous–Han Relations” (北投社史: 一個原、漢關係的考察與反思).
After the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) took over in 1945, the Pingpu were further disregarded. The previously “raw” Indigenous were renamed “mountain compatriots” (山胞) and divided into mountains and plains groups — completely discounting the Pingpu.
It was not until 1957 that the Provincial Government allowed those classified as “cooked” during the Japanese era to register with the “plains mountain compatriots” — but doing so was optional. Due to the numerous complications involved, as well as assimilation and pressures from prevailing societal attitudes, most failed or missed the final deadline of June 1959, Chan writes.
Even so, many living in the mixed Han-Indigenous village of Fanzihcuo (fan is a derogatory historic term for Indigenous Taiwanese) remained aware of their Pingpu identity until MRT construction in the 1990s greatly reduced the village. Residents moved to city apartments, completing the century-long displacement of Kipatauw’s residents.
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