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Sanxia Loyal Spirit Monument (三峽忠魂碑)

Over the years I’ve written quite a bit about Taiwan’s period of Japanese rule here on this website. I’ve gone into great detail about some of the remaining Shinto Shrines, Martial Arts Halls, Police Dormitories, Teachers Dormitories, Civic buildings, etc.

I’ve talked a lot about how the Japanese helped to develop and shape Taiwan into the beautiful country that it is today, and how things certainly wouldn’t be the same now if it wasn’t for their influence. Admittedly though, while talking about all of the good things that happened during the half-century of Japanese rule, I’ve glossed over some of the really dark moments of that history.

I’m going to attempt to rectify some of that today with this blog post. 

This post probably isn’t for the faint of heart, but I’ll be introducing a little known destination and a history that not too many people talk about.

To start, I’m going to have to go back in time before the Japanese took control of Taiwan. 

The thing about Taiwanese history over the past four or five centuries is that it is full of would-be colonizers coming here to reap the benefits of this treasure trove of an island. Prior to the arrival of the Japanese, the Dutch, the Spanish and the Chinese all attempted to exert control over the island, but each of these attempts turned out to be short-lived, rather unsuccessful and each time ended badly. After several attempts by those mentioned above, the Japanese arrived and were the first to be able to exert administrative control over the entirety of the island. 

Why is it that up until the arrival of the Japanese that no one could actually control Taiwan? 

Well, the answer is simple - Taiwan was already home to groups of indigenous people and they didn’t take too kindly to all of the colonizers arriving on their shores. 

During the 17th Century, Europeans started arriving in Taiwan and set up small outposts around the island in order to engage in trade with the indigenous people. However, when they attempted to do what the European colonial powers were notorious for, namely subjugating and oppressing the local population, things took a turn for the worse and resulted in violent uprisings that forced the Europeans out. 

Then, when the Qing started taking an interest in Taiwan in the late 17th Century, waves of Chinese settlers started arriving on the island, mostly from provinces in Southern China. Possibly having learned from the mistakes of the Europeans, the Chinese instituted administrative policies that restricted migrants from settling in the mountainous areas, which were mainly settled by the indigenous people. 

Interestingly, immigration at the time was tightly controlled and the settlers who came to Taiwan were predominately male. One of the conditions for coming to Taiwan was that they were not permitted to bring with them a wife or children. The intention was to control the population of settlers in Taiwan, but it was thought that interactions between the Chinese settlers and indigenous people would be easier if they started to inter-marry. 

In truth, inter-marriage allowed for a certain level of protection and better business opportunities for many of the settlers, but like the Europeans before them, people started to bend the rules and infringe upon indigenous lands, which frequently resulted in conflicts.

It wasn’t until the final days of Qing rule over Taiwan that the ban on entering the mountains was lifted, but by then it was already too late as the Chinese were being embarrassed at home in their war with the Japanese. Ultimately, the threat of decapitation wandering too close to indigenous territories was enough to deter many of the early Chinese immigrants from making the same mistakes that the Europeans did. 

You’ll often hear the Chinese government make bold claims like “Taiwan is an inherent part of China’s sovereign territory”. But the problem with these claims is that from 1683 - 1895, the Qing were only able to control pockets of the western coast of the island and like the Europeans before them were powerless to exert total control over the island.

Then the Japanese arrived, and they had no intention on limiting their control over the island in the same way that the Qing did.

They wanted it all. 

In 1871, decades prior to the official start of the colonial era, fifty-four Ryukyuan sailors shipwrecked in southwestern Taiwan and were massacred by the Paiwan (排灣族) in an infamous event referred to as the Mudan Incident (牡丹社事件).

The reaction to this massacre resulted in the Taiwan Expedition (台灣出兵) of 1874, which was the first overseas deployment of the Japanese Imperial Army and Navy. The success of the military expedition, which sought revenge for the massacred Ryukyuans, would ultimately have geo-political ramifications that would shape events in Asia over the next few decades.

Link: 1874 Japanese Invasion of Taiwan (Wiki) 

One of the takeaways of the expedition was the conclusion that Taiwan’s indigenous people were “vicious, violent and cruel” and that any future plans for Taiwan would first require the complete submission of the indigenous “barbarians,” which as I’m sure you can imagine shaped a brutal policy of subjugation over the subsequent five decades of colonial rule.

To their credit, the Japanese ending up doing some extensive anthropological study of Taiwan’s indigenous groups during their years here. That research forms the basis of much of the taxonomy that is used by the Taiwanese government to classify the various groups of indigenous peoples today. The positives however pale in comparison to the long list of ‘rebellions’, ‘uprisings’ and ‘incidents’ that took place around the island that ended up resulting in massacres and the oppression of the indigenous people. 

Further Reading: Xincheng Incident (新城事件), Beipu Uprising (北浦事件), Truku War (太魯閣戰爭), Tapani Incident (噍吧哖事件), Musha Incident (霧社事件)

Unlike the Qing, the Japanese weren’t interested in policies that gave the indigenous people space and as colonial rule progressed, the Japanese moved as far inland as possible to continue their extraction of natural resources which were instrumental in fueling the hunger of the ever-expanding empire. 

Resistance to Japanese rule lasted for decades, but the violence eventually settled down as the Japanese developed the island and acted as agents of modernity. Providing health care and education to the local people, improving their quality of life and providing them with new opportunities. Surprisingly, even though the memory of colonial rule remains painful for many of Taiwan’s indigenous groups, you’ll find that there is a lingering affinity among some for the ‘good old days’, which is often contrast with yet another period of racism and oppression that came with the subsequent decades of authoritarian dictatorship of the Chinese Nationalists.

For most, its difficult to fathom how decades of atrocities and suppression could result in assimilation, but when the Second World War spread to the Pacific, Taiwan’s indigenous military, the ‘Takasago Volunteers’ (高砂兵) were some of the fiercest warriors the empire ever produced and their legendary bravery and loyalty continues to be celebrated in Japan today, with many of them honored at the Yasukuni Shinto Shrine in Tokyo. 

Nevertheless, it should go without saying that no matter how some might feel about the period of Japanese rule, it has been a rough couple of centuries for the indigenous people of Taiwan, who have called this land home for thousands of years. The situation has only started to improve with better recognition of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples as an integral part of the Taiwanese national identity. The cultural shifts and forced assimilation brought on by subsequent colonial powers over the past few centuries however has inflicted irreparable damage to indigenous cultural identities and the loss of their languages.

This is a subject that deserves considerable more attention and effort than I’m able to get into here with this brief summary. Fortunately, there are an increasing number of researchers who specialize in this topic, and the story of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples, and their fight to save their languages and their cultures is starting to attract the attention it deserves. 

Today I’m going to be introducing one of the lesser known ‘incidents’ that took place during the colonial era and an even lesser known memorial that exists in its honour. In most cases, the tragic events linked above, such as the Musha Incident, were major events in Taiwanese history and are covered extensively in the education system and in the media. Even though the ‘Dabao Incident’ is lesser known, it is yet another one of the tragic events that took place during the early years of the occupation, and set a precedent for years to come. 

Dabao Incident (大豹社事件)

A small waterfall hiding behind a cliff on the Dabao River

When the Japanese took control of Taiwan, they wasted no time in their attempts to pacify the island, which would allow them to quickly take control of not just the people living here but the precious resources that were suddenly made available to the fledgling empire. One of the most precious of those resources was camphor, which was instrumental for the production of celluloid, pharmaceuticals and industrial chemicals - and for which Taiwan was a veritable treasure trove.

The only problem was that Taiwan’s rich camphor resources were predominately located within indigenous lands, resulting in the Japanese army, with its advanced weaponry, forcibly displacing tens of thousands of indigenous people, burning their villages to the ground and murdering any of those who had the audacity to fight back. 

Starting in 1900 (明治33年), the Office of the Governor General opened up Taiwan’s mountainous regions for the extraction of camphor trees (樟腦樹), and other precious resources. The decision would start an almost two-decade long period of resistance to Japanese rule by Taiwan’s indigenous people, loosely referred to as ‘the Camphor Wars’ and resulting in the deaths of an estimated 10,000 members of the Japanese Armed Forces and countless indigenous lives. 

The Dabao River flowing down into Sanxia

One of the first military campaigns into the mountains took place that same year in the mountains near Sanxia (三峽), located in the mountains in the south of New Taipei City (新北市). The military campaign resulted in what is known as the Dabao Incident (大豹社事件), which as I mentioned above is one of the lesser known incidents and unfortunately hasn’t really been covered very well in the English language - or in Chinese for that matter.

The Dabao River (大豹溪) is one of New Taipei City’s most important rivers, sourced from high in the mountains and flowing down into Sanxia District (三峽區). Today the river is part of a popular recreation area where tourists can camp, bbq, fish and enjoy beautiful natural waterfalls like Yunsen Waterfall (雲森瀑布), among others. Originally home to the Takoham (大嵙崁), a tribe belonging to the Tayal Indigenous group (泰雅族), who made their homes along the river where they hunted, fished and farmed for their sustenance.

Prior to the arrival of the Japanese, the Qing under the leadership of Governor Liu Mingchuan (劉銘傳) entered the Takoham area in order to start the extraction of camphor resulting in the Takoham Incident (大嵙崁社事件), which took place between 1886 and 1892, just as the Qing cancelled its prohibition on entering Taiwan’s mountainous regions (開山撫番).

This incident was one of the first attempts by the Qing to enter the mountains and despite having relatively modern weaponry for the time, the various Tayal villages in the area banded together to resist and were relatively successful in repelling the Chinese from advancing into their territory. They did however suffer heavy losses, which would become an issue a few short years later when the Japanese took control of the island and set their eyes on the camphor in their territory.

Prior to the advance of the Japanese army, camphor stations were constructed in the Dabao River area near Sanxia. This met with indigenous resistance not only because the Japanese were entering their territory, but because some of the Japanese workers had captured Tayal women and used them as sex slaves. Using violent clashes as a justification, the colonial government sent the army marching into the mountains starting what would become the second bloody resistance in as many years. 

Guerrilla warfare between the Tayal people (and anti-Japanese Han residents) lasted for years with the Japanese suffering considerable losses and ultimately resulting in a truce. Unfortunately for the Takoham tribe, the losses were devastating and by 1921 (大正10年) the vast majority of them relocated higher in the mountains to Pyasan (比亞山), which is currently known as Taoyuan’s Fuxing District (復興區).

When the colonial era ended and the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan, former residents of Takoham made an official request to the government for the return of the ancestral homeland. One such figure, Losing Watan (樂信·瓦旦 / 渡井三郎) was one of the most highly educated and vocal of the Tayal community through his capacity as a medical professional and later an elected member of the (defunct) Taiwan Provincial Consultative Council (臺灣省參議會).

Waterfall on the Dabao River

His fight for ethnic rights and representation within the “democratic” Republic of China came to an unfortunate end as he and several others who advocated for indigenous rights (and the return of their ancestral homeland), were charged with espionage and treason (高山族匪諜案) and executed. 

Link: Losing Watan Memorial Park (樂信瓦旦紀念公園)

Political control of Taiwan might have shifted from the Japanese to the Chinese Nationalists after the Second World War, but the death of someone as accomplished as Losing Watan and his compatriots is just another one of the sad events that took place during Taiwan’s White Terror (白色恐怖) period and ushered in another era of cruelty against Taiwan’s indigenous people. 

Sanxia Loyal Spirit Monument (三峽忠魂碑)

The Dabao Incident Monument was erected on a mountain deep within a beautiful bamboo forest along the Dabao River.

I’ve seen claims that the memorial was erected in a location where some of the violence took place, but historical records to that effect aren’t very well-documented, so it’s difficult to confirm. What we do know about the monument is that it was erected in 1930 (昭和5年) in honour of the fallen members of the Japanese Imperial Army who perished during the bloody incident. It has existed in obscurity for quite sometime as there are actually very few people who realize it even exists or know about its location, deep in a bamboo forest with little information to remind anyone that its there.

How it faded into obscurity shouldn’t really surprise anyone.

The Tayal residents who were most affected by the Dabao Incident moved deeper into the mountains and the Japanese who erected it left Taiwan when the war was over.

The memorial, which is literally a Loyal Spirit Monument (忠魂碑) is just one of many that were constructed throughout Taiwan during the colonial era dedicated to the ‘faithful who died in battle’, but is one of the few that actually remains standing and relatively unscathed after the regime change in the late 1940s. 

Language Note: “Loyal Spirit Monument” - 忠魂碑 (zhong hún bei) - ちゅうこんひ (chuukonhi)

Using local materials, the shrine is elevated off of the ground on a carved stone base and features an exquisitely decorated plaque with beautifully carved calligraphy. The architectural design of the memorial is thought to be representative of the 1930s, which certainly makes it representative of that era in Taiwan’s history, despite its debatably nefarious origins.

Similar to a smaller Shinto Shrine, surrounding the monument you’ll find an elevated stone pedestal with small stone pillars on each of its four corners. The 25 ping (坪) pedestal was constructed for the practical purpose of ensuring that it wouldn’t be overtaken by the bamboo forest that grows around it as well as giving those who came to pay their respects a place to pray.

There are photos of the shrine that were taken by other explorers a few years ago that show that it was nearly consumed by nature after several decades without any proper attention or grounds keeping.  

Recently however, it was recognized as a New Taipei City Historical Monument (市定古蹟) and has received some attention over the past year. This attention however has brought with it a debate about whether or not it should continue to exist, considering what it represents. Members of the Indigenous community have argued that it is representative of a dark period of history and is a bitter reminder of how the Tayal people have suffered through various atrocities.

The New Taipei City government on the other hand argues that the preservation and recognition of the memorial as a historical monument are a reminder of the past and how we should never make the same mistakes again. 

No matter what your stance on the subject is, the memorial remains to this day so obscure that few people actually realize it exists. It is a painful reminder of an era of history that doesn’t really get mentioned enough here in Taiwan, so maybe the fact that it is still around will allow people to carefully examine the history like I have and learn more about the plight of the Tayal and the other groups of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples who have suffered so much over the past few centuries of foreign rule. 

Getting There

 

So how is one to find this obscure war memorial? 

Well, it is located in the mountains near Sanxia Old Street (三峽老街) a few minutes up the road from the trailhead for Wuliaojian (五寮尖), one of the most popular hiking trails in northern Taiwan as well as being close to the beautiful Yunsen Waterfall (雲森瀑布) 

That being said, unless you have a car or a scooter, getting there can be difficult. 

The memorial is located on top of a small mountain that is on an obscure unmarked road off of the #114 North (北) highway that takes you to Manyueyuan National Forest Recreation Area (滿月圓國家森林遊樂園).

The road that takes you to the trailhead for the memorial is unmarked, so what you’ll want to keep in mind is that once you’ve passed by the trailhead for Wuliaojian and crossed the bridge on the 114, you’ll have to keep driving until you come across a lonely bus stop on the left side of the road. The bus stop, known as “Dayi Bridge” (大義橋) has an entrance to the steep mountain road that will bring you to the trailhead for the memorial on either side.

How will you know when you’ve reached the trailhead?

The best way is to look at the numbers on the telephone poles on the side of the road. Once you’ve reached #41, you’ve basically arrived. Next to the pole, you’ll find a run down pavilion that is probably used by the farmers who own the land, and the trailhead starts just beyond there.

This is the area where you’re going to want to watch for the mountain dogs, so be careful as they’re likely to start barking when they hear you coming. Given that they’re probably not used to many visitors coming around, they’re not really interested in your presence, so if you’re walking its probably a good idea to grab a stick somewhere along the road to protect yourself.

Once you’ve reached the trailhead, you’ll find an extremely unkept path that winds through a beautiful bamboo forest. If you actually visit, it will likely appear to that no one has really hiked the trail in a while, because not too many people actually know that it exists.

The hike should only take about ten to twenty minutes, depending on how fast you walk, but you’re going to have to be careful as the trail isn’t that stable in certain areas and there is a steep cliff that you could fall down while on the way up. Likewise, the trail isn’t very well marked and there are some twists and turns that could cause you to easily get lost. The fact that so few people are hiking the trail means that the path is likely to grow over quite easily, so pay attention! 

One last note: Something that you’ll probably want to remember to bring with you is some powerful mosquito repellent as it seems like the bamboo forest is a breeding ground for them. If you don’t have any repellent (like me), its likely that you’ll get eaten alive on the short hike (like I did).

The end of the quick hike.

It’s rather obvious that this little memorial isn’t exactly a major tourist attraction. By my estimation, I’d guess that its probably visited less than once or twice every couple of months.

That being said, its kind of amazing that it has been able to survive as long as it has given what it represents.

It’s probably one of those things that only people like myself know about, but if you’ve read this far, you’ll know that it represents a dark period of history and one that I sincerely hope we have learned from.



The Martial Arts Halls of Taiwan (臺灣の武德殿)

When I first started writing this blog, I didn’t really have much of an idea of the direction it was going to take.

My goal was to use my photography and my travel experience as a method of promoting travel in Taiwan, but that admittedly was just one of the ways that I hoped I’d be able to drive traffic to this site.

From the outset, I never really expected that I’d end up where I am now with a number of personal projects that consume a large portion of my free time researching, translating information and writing these articles.  

Now that I’ve been at this for quite a few years, I’m happy to say that all of the work I’ve done hasn’t been a complete waste as in the process I’ve improved my translation abilities and have learned so much about Taiwan.

That being said, given all that I’ve learned over the years, one of the things that I’ve been busy with lately is going through older articles to update them and more importantly correcting some of the erroneous information. 

If you’ve been following this space for any period of time, it’s probably painfully obvious that one of my major projects has been exploring the history of Taiwan’s Japanese Colonial Era, and the various buildings that remain around the country from that era. 

That all started in 2017 thanks a suggestion from my friend (and fellow blogger) Alexander that I visit the Longtan Martial Arts Hall (龍潭武德殿) near where I lived, and close to somewhere I was headed one day.

That suggestion sparked a fire and has resulted in my visiting almost all of Taiwan’s remaining Martial Arts Halls, making this site one of the most important resources for English-language information about them on the internet.

That being said, every time I write an article about one of the halls, I end up providing an abbreviated history of what they’re about and why they’re important. All of that comes to an end with this article, which will do the job of introducing the history of the halls and where you can find them.

My hope is that this will be better for you the reader, and myself as well as I’ll be streamlining the writing process about these halls so I can keep them more concise while also spending more time on important details.

Below I’ll introduce the purpose of these Martial Arts Halls, their history, organizational structure, architectural design and where you can find them in Taiwan. I’ll also provide links to each of the individual articles that I’ve written about so far, which should make navigating them much easier.

Daxi Martial Arts Hall (大溪武德殿)

Even though my ongoing work on the Japanese Colonial Era has since expanded to include a variety of other historic buildings, it all started with these Martial Arts Halls, which is a project that is near and dear to my heart.

But with only a few more left to write about, will soon be completed.

If you are travelling in Taiwan and have a chance to visit one of these beautiful buildings, I highly recommend stopping by as they have become living museums for Taiwanese history and are part of an era that is much different than the Taiwan we know and love today! 

Budokuden Martial Arts Halls (武德殿) 

Erlin Martial Arts Hall (二林武德殿)

When people think about Japan, one of the things that usually comes to mind are the iconic samurai, who during the feudal period, were part of an aristocratic caste of warriors who helped to rule over the country.

These days, you won’t find any actual samurai walking the streets of Japan, but even though they’ve become a relic of the past, their memory lives on thanks to pop-culture, which has done a pretty great job romanticizing their exploits.

If history has proven anything though, those with power rarely ever want to give it up.

So the obvious question one might ask is what actually happened to them?

The movie, “The Last Samurai” attempted to tell part of that story, but suffice to say, Tom Cruise (or any white dude for that matter) wasn’t the last of the samurai.

Prior to 1868, Japan was a feudal land, split into warring states loosely held together by the Tokugawa Shogunate (徳川幕府), which oversaw a military regime that effectively ruled over Japan but found itself completely at wits with how to deal with the military superiority of the western powers.

Taichung Martial Arts Hall (臺中武德殿)

Rising to power with the shogunate, the samurai (武士) were part of a ruling military class that helped to maintain order. Trained in military tactics and living by the ‘Bushido Code’ of honour, the existence of the samurai gave legitimacy to the shogun, who in turn provided them with hereditary privileges and a more than generous salary.

For more than two centuries, the samurai worked hand-in-hand with the shogunate to provide the people of Japan with a period of relative peace and prosperity. During this period of peace, many of the samurai used their privilege to become some of the most highly-educated members of society.

So, in addition to carrying around their swords, it was only natural that they’d also take on jobs within the bureaucracy to pass their time.

While the shoguns and the samurai worked together to maintain stability, the mikado (emperors) had virtually no say in the affairs of state and merely served a ceremonial purpose. 

This of course was granted in exchange for generous subsidies, allowing the Tokugawa clan to remain in control.

Unfortunately for the shogunate and the samurai, the west came calling and Japan had little power to resist.

Embarrassed with how weak the country had become, an alliance of daimyos (大名), who were essentially powerful landholders, and the emperor took the opportunity to seize control in what has become known as the “Japanese Revolution,” or the Boshin War (戊辰戰爭).

Link: Boshin War (Wiki) 

Tainan Martial Arts Hall (臺南武德殿)

Tainan Martial Arts Hall (臺南武德殿)

The year-long war resulted in the eventual resignation of Shogun Tokugawa Yoshinobu (徳川 慶喜), the restoration of Emperor Meiji (明治天皇), and a pledge to transform the country into a modern society that bowed to no one.

Emperor Meiji and a group of ambitious young men (many of whom were highly educated samurai) then presided over what would become known as the Meiji Restoration (明治維新), a period of massive political, industrial, economic, military and social development.

Amazingly, in a few short decades, the Emperor had transformed Japan from an isolated feudal state forced to capitulate to the whims of western powers, into a modern industrialized military power that was able to flex its muscles on the international stage.

One of the lingering issues that the government had to deal with however was how they’d deal with the warrior class of samurai, who suddenly found themselves losing all of their class privileges - and more importantly, their salaries!

Surprisingly, many of them (possibly realizing that they were completely outclassed by modern weaponry) didn’t put up much of a fuss, and for the most part accepted their gradual transition into the Japanese professional and military classes.

It goes without saying that even though the samurai were probably the most affected by the institutional changes in Japanese society, they were also one of the most highly-educated groups and understood that the military had to be completely reorganized, and that they could and would have to be part of that reform.

Taitung Martial Arts Hall (臺東武德殿)

Taitung Martial Arts Hall (臺東武德殿)

Problems did arise though. 

Starting with the prohibition of their distinctive topknots in 1871, and then later in 1876 when their swords and their stipends were taken away, it became too much for some of the samurai. 

This resulted in the short-lived Satsuma Rebellion (西南戰爭), led by a group of samurai who had taken exception to the push for modernity, and took up arms against the government.

Arguably, this group embodied the feelings of many of those within Japanese society who felt conflicted with the push for modernity, and an affinity for the west in lieu of traditional Japanese values. 

The rebellion however was quickly put down by the Japanese army, equipped with modern weaponry. 

Surprisingly, even though they acted against the government and were defeated, they continue to be honoured today as national heroes for their sacrifice and their loyalty.

Link: How the Samurai Went Extinct (Ranker) | Whatever Happened to the Samurai (JSTOR) 

What does ANY of this have anything to do with Taiwan’s Martial Arts Halls? I’m getting to that!

Even though the samurai were a class of feudal warriors that were “phased out”, their “bushido” (武士道) philosophy, an unwritten code that dictated their behaviour, lifestyle and more importantly their sense of loyalty and sacrifice, was something that could now be practiced by Japanese society as a whole.

Taichung Martial Arts Hall (臺中武德殿)

Taichung Martial Arts Hall (臺中武德殿)

In what become known as “Meiji Bushido” (明治武士道), the philosophy of the samurai warrior was altered into a concept that sought to instill the virtues of ‘self-sacrifice’ and ‘absolute loyalty’ to the state and the Emperor. 

Rather than fighting for personal or clan affairs like the samurai did, these new ‘Bushido Warriors’, namely every citizen of Japan, were expected to focus their efforts on the success and development of the nation.

One of the methods used to assist in the promotion of the new Bushido code was to establish state sanctioned “Martial Arts Halls” around the country, a policy that started in 1895 (明治28年) under the authority of the government and with the endorsement of the Emperor.

Coincidentally the same year that Japan took control of Taiwan.

The Martial Arts Halls were tasked with preserving Japan's martial arts disciplines in addition to cultivating the virtues of the samurai warrior spirit, offering former samurai an opportunity to train the ‘samurai of tomorrow’, and citizens from all facets of society were encouraged to take part.

The Taoyuan Martial Arts Hall in the 1970s

Known in Japan as a “Budokuden” (武德殿), the Martial Arts Halls were significant in that they were part of a state-sponsored attempt to foster fervent nationalism, as well as the idea of Japanese exceptionalism, though the ‘samurai-spirit’. 

The main objectives of the Martial Arts Halls were officially to promote the following:  

  1. Japanese Spirit (大和魂)

  2. Martial Arts Spirit (尚武的精神)

  3. Patriotism (愛國的精神)

All of which were essential tools in helping to stoke the fires of militarism in the early years of the 20th century.

First Generation Hsinhua Martial Arts Hall (第一代新化武德殿)

First Generation Hsinhua Martial Arts Hall (第一代新化武德殿)

The halls were part of the "Dai Nippon Butoku Kai" (大日本武德會) organization, loosely translated as the “Greater Japan Martial Arts Association” (abbreviated as DNBK), which was inaugurated on April 17th, 1895 with its headquarters located in Kyoto (京都).

Link: Dai Nippon Butoku Kai | 大日本武德會 (Wiki) 

Before we move on, let’s stop here for a bit of a language lesson: 

The Martial Arts Halls are known in Japanese as “Butokuden” or “Budokuden” (ぶとくでん) depending on how you romanize the word. Here in Taiwan, they were known simply as “wu dé diàn” (武德殿), or “wu dào guan“ (武道館), both of which which essentially translate into English as “Martial Arts Hall.” 

Its important to note that the character “wu” (武) or “bu” (ぶ) in Japanese means “war” or “martial” while “dào” (道) or “do” (どう) means “path” or “road”, but in this case when they’re put together mean “way of life”.

This means that Budo is essentially, “the Way of the Warrior”, which often gets lost in translation.

So when we say “Martial Arts” in English, we’re referring to the same disciplines practiced by “warriors”, but in a more interchangeable (politically correct) way that makes it an “art form” or “technique” rather than a method of destroying ones enemies.

The “arts” aspect of these Martial Arts Halls ultimately would be something that came much later however as the Pre-WWII era “Budokudens” were all about the militarism. 

Link: Budo | 武道 | ぶどう (Wiki)

Yuanlin Martial Arts Hall (員林武德殿)

Yuanlin Martial Arts Hall (員林武德殿)

When we refer to these disciplines as “Martial Arts”, whether they’re Japanese, Chinese, Thai, etc., the Chinese characters that we use are “wu shù” (武術) or “bujutsu” (じゅつ) in Japanese, both of which refer to the philosophy of developing oneself rather than defeating an enemy.

While there are various Martial Arts Disciplines throughout the world, when we talk about Japanese “budo” styles, we’re referring to Judo (柔道), Jujutsu (柔術), Kendo (劍道), Kyudo (弓道), Aikido (合氣道), and Sumo (相撲), among others. 

One of the key things to takeaway from the official name of the “Dai Nippon Butoku Kai” is the “Dai Nippon” (大日本 / だいにっぽん), which translates as “Greater Japan” and referred to areas of the ever expanding empire, for which Taiwan was merely a stepping-stone.

So, even though the role of the “Butoku Kai” was to train the ‘warriors of tomorrow’ in Japan, the organization likewise attempted to do the same in its newfound territories across Asia, through its military expansion.

Kaohsiung Martial Arts Hall (高雄武德殿)

Kaohsiung Martial Arts Hall (高雄武德殿)

Martial Arts Halls were constructed not only in Japan and Taiwan, but across Asia in places like Okinawa, Korea, Manchuria and China.

No where though have these Martial Arts Halls been as well-preserved as they are here in Taiwan.

I’m jumping ahead in the history here a bit but when the war came to an end, the DNBK organization was forcibly dissolved by the allied powers and many of its leaders were purged, lost their jobs and were forbidden from taking any government jobs in the future.

The dissolution of the DNBK delineated the responsibilities official duties and operations to the All Japan Kendo Federation (全日本剣道連盟) and the All Japan Judo Federation (全日本柔道連盟), both of which were founded after the war and to this day work to preserve and promote their respective disciplines. 

Posing for a photo outside of the Taipei Martial Arts Hall

Posing for a photo outside of the Taipei Martial Arts Hall

In 1953, the DNBK was re-established with a new philosophical vision that stressed the “arts” part of its “Martial Arts” disciplines and promoted international peace and harmony. The organization however remains detached from the government and has a limited scope despite having branches that have spread throughout the world with training centers constructed in the US, Canada, UK, France, Russia, etc.

Nevertheless, the organization which once boasted millions of members, tremendous physical assets and thousands of expert instructors has been reduced to a powerless entity, with worldwide membership in the tens of thousands. 

Link: Dai Nippon Butoku Kai (大日本武德會) (Official Website)

Here in Taiwan, the halls have become increasingly appreciated historical relics of the colonial era, but for the most part have become living museums and exhibition spaces while their original purpose, the promotion of Japanese martial arts has all but disappeared.

The Martial Arts Halls of Taiwan (臺灣の武德殿)

Changhua Martial Arts Hall (彰化武德殿)

In 1900 (明治33年), construction on Martial Arts Halls here in Taiwan started with those in Taipei (臺北州/たいほくしゅう), Taichung (臺中廳/たいちゅうちょう) and Tainan (臺南廳/たいなんちょう) initially meant to assist in the training of the local police in martial arts.

It wasn’t until after the “Taiwan Butokuden Branch of the Dai Nippon Butoku Kai” (大日本武德會臺灣支部) was established in 1906 however that Martial Arts Halls really started popping up all over the island. 

By 1920 (大正9年), the organization was given a directive from the government to start construction on Martial Arts Halls in each of Taiwan’s prefectures culminating in the eventual construction of more than two hundred across the Island. 

In Taiwan, the halls initially served the purpose of training the police, military and prison guards in Japanese martial arts disciplines. Later though, they opened up to the general public in an attempt to train the citizens of Taiwan in Japanese martial arts, as well as instilling "Japanese Spirit" mentioned above, better known as Yamato-damashii (大和魂).

In a situation similar to Shinto Shrines, the construction of Martial Arts Halls was accelerated in the 1930s, which is why you’ll find that the majority of those remaining today were constructed between 1930-1945.

The policy that would require a Shinto Shrine or a Martial Arts Hall to be constructed in every prefecture, town and borough was a precursor to the Kominka policy of 1936 (昭和11年).

Tainan Martial Arts Hall (臺南武德殿)

Tainan Martial Arts Hall (臺南武德殿)

Kominka” (皇民化運動), literally meant to “force people to become subjects of the empire”, more commonly known as “Japanization” or forced assimilation. The policy was ultimately an act of desperation on the part of the militarizing nature of the Japanese empire of the era, which had grander plans for conquest across Asia.

The policy enforced strict language policies, required citizens to take Japanese names and instituted the “volunteers system” (志願兵制度), drafting Taiwanese into the Imperial Army. It likewise required locals to take part in Japanese cultural and religious activities, including visiting Shinto Shrines and of course, learning Martial Arts.

It was during this time that the number of Shinto Shrines and Martial Arts Halls across Taiwan started to skyrocket.

Links: Taoyuan Shinto Shrine | Luye Shinto Shrine | Yuanshan Shinto Shrine | The National Revolutionary Martyrs’ Shrine

Admittedly, as I mentioned above, I made quite a few mistakes when I first started researching this stuff.

One of the numbers that I saw quoted most often was that there were approximately seventy of these halls constructed throughout Taiwan. What that didn’t take into account however was that they often went by different names, some of which included “Budojo” (武道場), “Renbukan” (練武館), “Enbujo” (演武場), etc.

While they all essentially fell under the umbrella of the DNBK organization, the different names were a reflection of what the halls were used for as some were for training, others for practice, and others for competition.

Of the more than two hundred halls that were constructed in Taiwan between 1900 and 1945, the majority of them would have been located near a police precinct (警務段) or a public school (公校), while many others were located in the vicinity of military (軍隊), railway (鐵道部), jails (刑務所), or civil service-related buildings. 

Below I’ve broken down the various Martial Arts Halls based on where they were located.

The Martial Arts Halls were ranked in a system similar to Shinto Shrines which determined their funding, purpose, size and importance.

The designations don’t make much sense in English, so I’ll do my best to explain below:

  1. Prefectural Level (州廳) Branches (支部) - The largest halls, located in the capital of each prefecture.

  2. Town and City Level (郡市) Branches (支所) - Smaller halls, located within larger cities and towns.

  3. Village and Borough Level (街庄) Branches (分會) - Even smaller halls, located within villages.

In terms of ranking, the prefectural level branches acted as the headquarters for each of the prefectures and the smaller branches would report directly to (and receive support and finding from) the prefectural level branches.

Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (新化武德殿)

Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (新化武德殿)

Interestingly, as Japan’s Martial Arts disciplines became increasingly popular in Taiwan, the island produced quite a few of its own star athletes, who ended up attending some of the most prestigious tournaments in Japan and returned home with prizes.

We often reminisce about Taiwan’s baseball prowess, but it’s important to remember that from the colonial era until the present day, Taiwan has produced some exceptionally skilled Martial Artists and Olympic athletes.

Taiwan’s Remaining Martial Arts Halls (臺灣現存の武德殿)

www.goteamjosh.com/blog/wudedian

  1. Xinzhuang Martial Arts Hall (新莊武德殿) 1928 / Restoration in Process

  2. Tamkang Junior High Martial Arts Hall (淡江中學武德館) 1923 / Yet to be Restored

  3. Daxi Martial Arts Hall (大溪武德殿) 1935 / Restored

  4. Longtan Martial Arts Hall (龍潭武德殿) 1930 / Restored

  5. Hsinchu High School Martial Arts Hall (新竹高中劍道館) 1926

  6. Hsinchu Prison Martial Arts Hall (新竹少年刑務所演武場) 1926

  7. Taichung Prison Martial Arts Hall (臺中刑務所演武場) 1937 / Restored

  8. Nantou Martial Arts Hall (南投武德殿) 1929 / Restoration in Process

  9. Changhua Martial Arts Hall (彰化武德殿) 1929 / Restored

  10. Erlin Martial Arts Hall (二林武德殿) 1933 / Restoration in Process

  11. Tainan Martial Arts Hall (臺南武德殿) 1936 / Restored

  12. Tainan Prison Martial Arts Hall (臺南刑務所演武場) 1903 / Restoration in Process

  13. Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (新化武德殿) 1925 / Restored

  14. Kaohsiung Martial Arts Hall (高雄武德殿) 1924 / Restored

  15. Qishan Martial Arts Hall (旗山武德殿) 1934 / Restored

  16. Pingtung Martial Arts Hall (屏東武德殿) 1930 / Restored

  17. Fangliao Martial Arts Hall (枋寮武德殿) 1937 / Yet to be Restored.

Link: 臺灣的武德殿 (Wiki)

Kaohsiung Martial Arts Hall (高雄武德殿)

Given the propaganda value of these halls, the vast majority were done so with traditional Japanese architecture in mind, in order to better promote appreciation for Japanese cultural values. While the architectural design of the two hundred Martial Arts Halls constructed across Taiwan tends to vary, many design aspects remained the same.

So, in order to better understand what you would have found at one of these halls, I’m going to go into a little bit of detail about some of the general design elements that you would have found at each of them.

One of the first things to know is that Martial Arts Halls were almost always constructed within the downtown core or the central business district of any town, village or borough providing that there was land available.

This means that within the traditional downtown core of a Japanese-era community in Taiwan, you’d likely find a police station, school, railway station, post office, Martial Arts Hall, etc.

Generally speaking, Martial Arts Halls followed these four styles of architectural design:

  1. Mixed Japanese and Western Architecture with a combination of brick and wood (承重磚牆和洋混合風格).

  2. Mixed Japanese and Western Architecture with beams and columns (仿柱樑框架牆身之和洋混合風格).

  3. Traditional Japanese Temple-style Architecture constructed entirely of wood (傳統日本寺院建築式樣).

  4. Traditional Japanese house-style architecture for small scale halls (傳統日式家屋建築類型).

Taichung Martial Arts Hall (臺中武德殿)

While the vast majority of the halls were constructed using the second and third styles, the Kaohsiung Martial Arts Hall and the Xinhua Martial Arts Hall remain excellent examples of the first and fourth styles respectively.

Unfortunately there are few remaining examples of the third style of design as they closely resembled the archetype of Japanese cultural design, which was frowned upon when the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan.

That being said, the second style was one of the most predominant and can still be enjoyed today in Daxi, Longtan, Taichung, Changhua, Nantou and Qishan.

Generally speaking, even though some of these buildings featured a fusion of Japanese and Western design, the majority of them made use of Japan’s Irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造) architectural style, which essentially means that the buildings featured one of Japan’s various styles of “hip-and-gable” roofs which extend well beyond the perimeter of the base below.

Links: Irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造) | East Asian hip-and-gable roof (Wiki)

Tainan Martial Arts Hall (臺南武德殿)

Despite being one of the most common styles of architectural design in Japan, ‘Irimoya’ tends to confuse non-native speakers because even though it is a design that features the iconic ‘hip-and-gable roof’, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the roof of each building constructed in the Irimoya style will appear the same.

This is because one of the key things to remember about this style is the ‘moya’ (母屋), which refers to the base of the building below the roof. The reason this is important is because the size of the roof often eclipses the the ‘moya’, so you’ll find a genius network of beams, pillars and trusses within that ensure that the weight of the roof is evenly distributed, ensuring stability.

Introduced to Japan in the 6th Century, the hip-and-gable design is elaborate in that it is basically a fusion of two roofs in one, with a two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造) on the highest part of the roof, otherwise known as the ridged ‘gable’ and the four-sided yosemune-zukuri (寄棟造), or the ‘hip’ on the lower section.

For centuries, this style of architectural design was reserved for only the most important buildings, most often Buddhist Temples and Shinto Shrines, but as construction methods developed, it became a lot more common and ultimately one of Japanese architecture’s most iconic styles of design.

That being said, the irimoya style is still highly-regarded and any building constructed with a hip-and-gable roof brings with it a certain level of prestige. This is why you’ll find that the vast majority of Martial Arts Halls in Taiwan were constructed featuring a variation on this style.

Chidori-hafu on the Qishan Martial Arts Hall (旗山武德殿)

Given that the irimoya style is commonly used for temples and shrines, it was important to add some variations and decorations to allow these buildings to stand out, because within Japanese architecture, subtle variations in design or decoration often make huge differences.

One of the most common variations that you would have found on the roof of these halls was that they were often fitted with decorative roof tiles featuring the Chinese characters for “bu” (武) on the end-tiles. Unfortunately the restoration projects on a few of the remaining halls has removed these end-tiles, you can still find them on a couple of the halls, such as the Changhua Martial Arts Hall.

Another common variation is the addition of what’s known as a chidori hafu (千鳥破風/ちどりはふ) that protrudes from the front of the ‘hip’ section of the roof.

You’ll find similarly triangular-shaped ‘hafu’ (破風板/はふ) on both ends of the ‘gable’ section of the roof, but this one faces out from the front and is purely decorative.

Another one of the common features used in the design of these halls are the decorative porticos at the main entrance to the buildings - While their design tends to vary, generally what you’ll find is a roof-covered porch that leads to the main entrance of the hall. The portico roof is specifically designed to add further decorative elements that go hand in hand with the design of the main roof, especially when it comes to the ‘chidori hafu’ above.

The porticos always come equipped with beautiful wooden or cement pillars that help to support the roof, but as I mentioned above, the design of the roof above tends to vary. The most common styles that you will find today are the iconic curved ‘karahafu-style’ (唐破風), the four-sided ‘irimoya-yane’ (入母屋根) and the two-sided ‘kirizuma-yane’ (切妻屋根).

Even though the ‘irimoya-yane’ style is the most common among the remaining halls today, the ‘karahafu’ porticos at the Kaohsiung and the Tainan Martial Arts Halls are considered to be the most beautiful.

While the buildings almost always featured elaborate roof designs, what you’d find below was considerable more simplistic in that the majority were constructed with local timber (cypress or cedar) and featured large sliding glass windows on all four sides, making them appear relatively similar to almost all the other Japanese-style homes and dormitories built throughout Taiwan.

That being said, the early 20th century was a time of great prosperity for many areas around Taiwan and the fusion of Japanese and western architectural design that became so prevalent around the island was also reflected in quite a few of these Martial Arts Halls, which featured baroque-style design and modern construction techniques. 

The few Martial Arts Halls that remain in Taiwan today offer a mixture of traditional Japanese design and western-fusion design with the Kaohsiung and the Xinhua Martial Arts Hall in particular being great examples of the fusion design while the Changhua, Tainan and Nantou halls are great examples of traditional design

As for the interior of the halls, they pretty much all remained the same with hard-wood floors equipped with a spring mechanism (彈簧地板), and not much else apart from a small shrine against the wall. The floor space was almost always split in half with one side covered in thick tatami mats for Judo while the other side was used for Kendo.

Xinhua Martial Arts Hall (新化武德殿)

There was almost always a shrine space located against the back wall of the hall in the middle, and would have been home to a couple of sacred objects and any awards won by the members of the hall.

The sad thing about the spring floors is that the only hall remaining today that still features this really cool design is the Xinhua Martial Arts Hall in Tainan. The vast majority of the others either had their springs removed or ended up not being very well maintained over the past seven decades.

Given that almost all of the halls were elevated off of the ground on a cement base, this allowed for a network of springs to be constructed under the floor boards. The Spring Floor was an important design function for anyone practicing Kendo, given that you need a bit of bounce in your step. It was also important for many of these buildings as they were (for the most part) constructed of wood and the carpenters of the era quickly discovered that Taiwan had a pretty bad termite problem.

Former Administration building at the Taichung Martial Arts Hall

One thing that is often forgotten about these halls is that they didn’t always just consist of a single building.

As mentioned above, the halls were ranked as branches, with some of them being quite large while others were relatively small. The larger halls would have featured auxiliary buildings that would include offices, recreation space and dormitories for the instructors who resided in the halls.

Likewise some of them also included large spaces behind the hall where people could practice Kyudo (弓道), traditional Japanese archery.

When the colonial era ended, many of these buildings were used for different purposes and as time passed, most of them were torn down. These days, only the Daxi, Taichung, Changhua and Qishan halls feature separate buildings, however most of them have been entirely rebuilt during the restoration process and aren’t originals.

When the Second World War ended (and subsequently the Japanese occupation of Taiwan), many of the Martial Arts Halls were repurposed for use by the police, converted into public halls and even used as residences for many of the Chinese refugees, who fled to Taiwan in 1949.

Archery range behind the Taichung Martial Arts Hall

Ultimately, the fate of the vast majority of Taiwan’s Martial Arts Halls ended up being similar to what happened to many of the other traditional Japanese structures constructed during the colonial era after the arrival of the Chinese Nationalists.

If they weren’t repurposed, they were eventually torn down.

Today, just over a dozen of these halls continue to exist in Taiwan, some of which have been restored and recognized as National Historic Buildings.

There are others that still remain in a sad state of disrepair, and are in desperate need of attention.

The government has fortunately started to take the existence of these historic buildings more seriously and many of them have been restored in recent years.

There are also a few of the smaller branches that are still being used as homes, but have been altered so much that they’re hardly recognizable.

Yet to be restored Erlin Martial Arts Hall

Currently there are several restoration projects taking place around the country that will see a few more of these historic Martial Arts Halls re-opening to the public.

To that effect, I plan to update each of the articles that I have already published about the halls, while also continuing to visit the ones I haven’t had the chance to write about yet. 

As these restoration projects are completed, I’ll make sure to update this space so that its easier to keep track of the current status of these important historic buildings.

If you ever have a chance to visit any of these historic buildings, I highly recommend checking it out.

They’re a small piece of a lesser known part of Taiwanese history and (for better or worse) have played important roles over the past century of Taiwan’s modern development.


Before I provide my list of references, I’d like to first offer my gratitude to the amazing people behind the National Historic Monuments of Taiwan page on Facebook as they’ve curated a space that offers the public a glimpse into Taiwan’s often forgotten history.

The historic photos I’ve used here are all credited to that page and I highly recommend you give them a follow, if you haven’t already.

Last but not least, I’d like to show my immense appreciation to Professor Hsin-An Chen (陳信安) of Chaoyang University (朝陽科技大學), the foremost expert on all things Martial Arts Halls in Taiwan. Without his in-depth research on the history and architecture of the Martial Arts Halls, much of what we know about them today might have been lost to history.

Likewise, it is thanks to his architectural expertise that many of the halls have been able to be brought back to life for the rest of us to enjoy.

References

  1. 臺灣的武德殿武德殿 (Wiki)

  2. 大日本武德會大日本武徳会 (Wiki)

  3. Dai Nippon Butoku Kai (Wiki)

  4. Dai Nippon Butoku Kai (Official Site)

  5. 武德會與武德殿 (陳信安)

  6. 台灣日治時期武德殿建築之研究 (陳信安)

  7. 武德殿 (臺灣百科全書)

  8. 台灣武德殿發展之研究 (黃馨慧)

  9. 失而復得的大唐東洋建築 台灣武德殿 (Willie Chen)

  10. 日治時期臺灣各地建造武德殿的歷史沿革 (eTaiwan)

  11. (走訪日式老建築) 武德殿的舊事與進行式 (自由時報)

  12. 武德殿研究成果報告 (高雄市政府文化局)

  13. Japanese Architecture and Art Net Users System (JAANUS)

  14. The Japanese House: The Basic Elements of Traditional Japanese Residential Architecture (Manabi Japan)

  15. 臺灣國定古蹟編纂研究小組 (National Historic Monuments of Taiwan)


The role of Public-Private Partnerships in Conserving Historic Buildings in Taiwan

When I first started writing about all of these historic buildings from the Japanese Colonial Era a few years back, I hadn’t realized that my interest in these buildings was something that was widely shared and that the central and local governments all across Taiwan were simultaneously in the process of investing a lot of time and money into their restoration. 

Fast forward more than five years and it’s almost like they want to ensure that this little project of mine is never going to end. 

Now that there are so many exciting things happening with regard to the restoration of historic places of interest all across the country, I’ve had to keep my ears close to the ground and have become rather adept at keeping track of all the on-going and future restoration projects. So when I plan my monthly schedule, one of the things that I make sure to keep in mind is all of the newly restored buildings that are opening to the public, so that I can get to them in a timely manner.

That being said, I’ve had this burning question in the back of my mind about these things for quite some time.

Maybe it’s just because I’m getting older and these are the things that you think about as you age.

The government has been very noticeably busy in its efforts restoring a very long list of historic structures all over the country, and I’m sure you can imagine, each of which tends to be quite expensive. 

So where does all the money come from and how can the government continue to invest so much in these historic properties when they could be investing more elsewhere?

Taiwan currently enjoys a very healthy and active democratic environment where transparency and accountability have become major considerations for taxpayers wanting to ensure that their hard-earned dollars are being spent responsibly. Gone are the days of the former authoritarian-era where the government could do pretty much whatever it wanted and get away with it.  

Understandably, given the controversial history of the five decades of Japan’s colonial rule, it shouldn’t come as a huge surprise that society is often divided on the subject of restoring these old buildings. Certainly, not everyone agrees that precious public funds should be spent on the restoration of all of these Japanese-era structures around the country.  

This means that there is a considerable amount of bureaucracy and red-tape involved in all of these projects, and from start to finish, the public is consulted and constantly kept informed (if they are so inclined to pay attention that is).

Obviously the government doesn’t focus entirely on buildings from the Japanese-era with all of these restoration projects. There are a multitude of others that focus on Indigenous cultural preservation as well as the restoration of buildings that date back even further to the Qing Dynasty and beyond.

My focus here though is on the buildings remaining from the colonial era.

To better illustrate the point of what I’m going to try to make, allow me for a moment to use the recent completion (and re-opening) of the Zhongli Police and Teachers dormitories as an example.

Both the Zhongli Teachers Dorms and the nearby Police Dorms have been converted into culture parks (文化公園) by the Taoyuan City Government. Both of these parks consist of three former Japanese-era dormitories, which have been completely restored and re-opened to the public.

This means that within a city block there are currently six historic buildings that have been restored and reopened. 

To stay accountable to the public, the government can’t just leave the buildings empty, which means that they have to serve some purpose.

The problem for the government in this case is that they’ve already spent a considerable amount of money in Zhongli (中壢區), as well as in Taoyuan (桃園區), Daxi (大溪區) and other districts restoring similar historic buildings.

With so many new culture parks, I’m sure you can understand that they have been hard-pressed to come up with sustainable ideas for what to do with all these buildings. 

So, in the case of both of these parks (in addition to many others around the country), you’ll find that the government has reserved space for historic and cultural displays in some of the buildings while also making use of existing laws to allow local entrepreneurs to set up shop within the others.

Relaxing at the Zhongli Elementary Teachers Dorm

The Zhongli Police Dorm Culture Park currently features two buildings dedicated to local cultural and historic exhibitions while the other is currently occupied by a classy hot pot restaurant. The Teachers Dorms likewise feature similar exhibition space, but one of the buildings is currently home to a nice coffeeshop.

This is something that has been happening en-masse all over the country as the government has been investing heavily in buildings of cultural and historical significance. 

So here’s the purpose of this case study: In order to remain accountable and transparent, as well as attempting to attract a constant flow of visitors to these newly established culture parks, local governments have started to employ ‘operational transfer’ agreements for these historic properties.

This gives entrepreneurs an opportunity to set up shop in one of these recently restored buildings and provides the government with revenue in order to recoup some of their investment over time.

Japanese dorm prior to restoration

Today, I’m going to focus on how these operational transfer schemes work, because they have become an integral part of the cultural and historic preservation process and are an extremely important tool which allows the government to continue contributing funds for the preservation of historic buildings.

This is something that we can all benefit from for generations to come.

To do this, I’ll be using a combination of the dorms mentioned above as well as the beautiful Taimali Coffee Shop (太麻里文創咖啡館) in Taitung as examples of how these agreements work, and how they can be successful. 

As is the case with the things I find interesting, very little has been covered on the topic in English, or even mentioned very often in Chinese for that matter, so the information I’m going to be providing here required quite a bit of translation and research directly from government-provided resources.

I hope you’ll find it interesting, too!

Public-Private Partnerships in Taiwan

Families enjoying lunch at the newly opened Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

Families enjoying lunch at the newly opened Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

In order to better facilitate legal partnerships between the private and public sectors, the Taiwanese government makes use of the ‘Build-Operate-Transfer’ model as a method for ensuring transparency in public construction projects, and allowing for short and long-term leasing of historic properties. 

Link: Build–Operate–Transfer (Wiki)

Starting in the year 2000 (民國89年), the government passed the “Law of Private Participation in Public Construction” framework (民間參與公共建設法), which was initially meant to allow the public sector to assign publicly funded construction projects to private enterprises, and ensuring that the financial resources are efficiently made available for construction projects. 

The promulgation of this law was considered to be a win-win strategy for both the public and private sectors as it would ensure the vitality of private enterprises contracted by the government. It would also help to improve the quality of public infrastructure, and most importantly reduce the burden of government expenditures and bureaucratic red tape.

Link: Enforcement Rules of Act for Promotion of Private Participation in Infrastructure Projects | 促進民間參與公共建設法施行細則 (Ministry of Finance / 財政部)

In the two decades since the law has been enacted, it has been amended almost a dozen times (most recently in 2019) to reflect the evolving situation with regard to these partnerships, which don’t necessarily always have to involve large construction projects and huge sums of money.

Some of the recent success stories with these partnerships include none other than the construction of Taiwan’s High Speed Rail (臺灣高鐵路), Kaohsiung’s Mass Rapid Transit System (高雄捷運) and Taipei 101 (台北101), among others. 

Unfortunately, even though these policies are considered a winning strategy for interaction between the government and the private sector, there is also a dark side that has led to rampant corruption within the public procurement sector - Most often caused by government officials showing favoritism to conglomerates that are both ready and willing to bribe them.

Restaurant space at the Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

In one such case, Taipei City Councillor, and high-ranking Chinese Nationalist Party member Lai Su-ju (賴素如) was convicted and sentenced to ten years imprisonment for seeking NT$15 million (US $472,798) in kickbacks. In return, Lai would ensure that a ‘certain’ company would win a contract to develop the proposed Taipei Twin Towers Project (台北雙子星大樓) next the Taipei Railway Station. 

Link: Lai Su-ju guilty verdict upheld by High Court (Taipei Times) 

Even though on paper the system was set up to prevent corruption from taking place, controversies continue to persist; The Taipei Dome (臺北大巨蛋) project is another recent example of how problems can arise with the government interacting with the private sector.

In this case we have city councillors all the way up to a former president becoming complicit in the scandal. 

The ongoing case is one that has been widely covered by the media and has focused the collective anger of the public on the government, the FarGlory Group (遠雄集團) and the “deeply entrenched crony capitalism in Taiwan, with bribes paid by development companies to local politicians in order to secure lucrative infrastructure construction bids, and the use of organized crime by development companies to intimidate local opposition.” 

Link: The Taipei Dome Controversy and Issues of Entrenched Political Corruption in Taiwan (New Bloom)  

While it is important to be aware that even though mechanisms have been in place for a couple of decades, with watchdogs and amendments to the laws, corruption still rears its ugly head.

This means that “guanxi” (關係) is still a pervasive factor when awarding contracts, even in the smaller cases that are the focus of what I’m covering today.

Fortunately, what I’m focusing on here with Taiwan’s historic buildings are (considerably) smaller cases that aren’t likely to involve large corporations, bribes and kickbacks. They are however extremely competitive and are just as likely to suffer from the same issues, albeit on a much smaller scale than others.

In particular, one of the major issues when it comes to the leasing of these historic buildings is that the contracts are often awarded by local governments, which means that the mechanisms for ensuring equality and fairness may not be on par with those on the national level. This is especially the case with contracts and agreements that are more widely scrutinized when they are over a certain dollar limit.

Gift shop at the Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

First though, let me introduce the basic methods that the Taiwanese government has set up under the Ministry of Finance (財政部) within the framework of the “Act for Promotion of Private Participation in Infrastructure Projects” mentioned above. 

  1. Build-Operate-Transfer” BOT (由民間機構投資新建並為營運;營運期間屆滿後,移轉該建設之所有權予政府) is when the government grants a concession to a private organization to finance, build and operate a project for a specific period of time (in order to recoup its investment) before control is transferred back to the government.

  2. Build-Transfer-Operate” (由民間機構投資新建完成後,政府無償取得所有權,並由該民間機構營運;營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府) essentially means that after an investment by a private organization, the government takes ownership of the property, while entrusting the organization with its operational rights for a specific period of time before control is returned to the government. There are variations on this scheme with the government eventually taking ownership of a property for free (無償BTO) and another where the government is required to reimburse the private institution for construction costs (有償BTO).

  3. Rehabilitate-Operate-Transfer” ROT (民間機構投資增建、改建及修建政府現有設施並為營運;營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府) often referred to as “rehabilitate” or “restoration” in English, this is a method by which private institutions invest in the reconstruction or restoration of an existing government-owned property and operates it for a specific period of time before it is returned to government control.

  4. Operate-Transfer” OT (間機構營運政府投資興建完成之建設,營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府) contracts are essentially the main focus of this case study and are a scheme for which the government invests in and completes a project and then entrusts private organizations to operate it (for a set period time) until control is eventually returned to the government or the lease is renegotiated.

  5. Build-Operate-Owner” BOO (配合國家政策,由民間機構自行備具私有土地投資新建,擁有所有權,並自為營運或委託第三人營運) are contracts that allow private institutions to invest in the construction of a new project and upon completion owning it and operating it (or entrusting a third party with its operation) with the inclusion of government oversight, which may or may not include financial incentives or tax-exempt status.

Restaurant seating at the Zhongli Police Dorms

When it comes to the leasing of historic properties that have been restored by the government and their operational control being handed over for private operation, we need to focus on the Rehabilitate-Operate-Transfer and Operate-Transfer method.

ROT/OT schemes allow the government to have a hand in the restoration of historic and culturally significant structures, as well as providing for the opportunity to lease them out for commercial use. 

The statute that governs these partnerships is outlined in Article 8, Paragraph 5 (第8條第5點) of the ‘Act for Promotion of Participation in Infrastructure Projects’ law which is as follows: 

“5. The private institution operates an infrastructure built with investment from the government. Upon expiration of the operation period, the right to operate reverts to the government;” (民間機構營運政府投資興建完成之建設,營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府。)

As mentioned above, in order to help you better understand these partnerships, I’m using the Zhongli Police Dormitories as an example of how the ‘Operate-Transfer’ agreements work with regard to the leasing of historic structures to the private sector.

The reason for this is two-fold: I’ve already published articles on these dorms on two occasions, prior to their restoration and most recently after the restoration was completed.

More importantly is that the ‘licensing bid’ for the dorm (that was made available to the public) was published by the Ministry of Finance, and is easily accessible through the link below.

It provides the information necessary to help illustrate my point. 

Link: 桃園市中壢警察局日式宿舍群營運移轉案 (民間參與公共建設資訊)

Restaurant at the Zhongli Police Dorms

After a period of restoration, the Zhongli Police Dorms re-opened in 2020 as a Cultural Park which seeks to promote tourism in the area by featuring exhibitions focused on local history that are attractive to the public.

As mentioned earlier, two of the dormitories in the park have been reserved as a cultural space and their operational control is taken care of by the Taoyuan City Government’s Department of Cultural Affairs (桃園市政府文化局). 

The third (and the largest of the dorms) on the other hand was reserved for ‘private use’ as part of the government’s ‘Operate-Transfer’ program which helps to ensure that some of the public funds that were invested in the restoration of these three buildings is recouped.

The space is currently occupied by “Jing Ding House” (景町文煮), a Japanese-style restaurant and cafe operated by the ArtGo Cultural & Creative Company (雅鴿文創公司), which won the bid linked above for the operational rights for the building.

The bidding process that was published by the Ministry of Finance (in the link above) provides us with some some important information about how these operational contracts are formed. 

However, since not everyone can read Chinese, I’ll summarize below.

What we can see is that the ‘Operate-Transfer’ Agreement is licensed for a period of six years between 2019 (民國108年) and 2025 (民國114年), with the contract winner proposing a plan that would include a total investment of NT$9,757,066 (US $350,000) over that period.

As to whether or not the government will continue the lease when it is up, or make the space available to another private contractor is part of the risk that is taken when it comes to these Operational Transfer agreements. 

Similarly, unlike typical companies, which are generally free to decide if and when to close shop, if business isn’t going well, these agreements ensure that the space will be occupied for the period that the contract is valid, otherwise a large fine will be incurred. 

This obviously makes bidding for one of these projects somewhat precarious for the average person wanting to operate a business within one of those government-owned historic buildings.  

Generally speaking, for those interested in applying for one of these ‘OT’ cases that the government makes available, it is important that they pay close attention to the bids, which are published on the “Promotion of Private Participation” (民間參與公共建設資訊) website. 

Enjoying tea at the Taichung Martial Arts Hall

Each of which generally includes the following information and stipulations: 

  1. Public Announcement for bids (公告招商)

  2. Case name (案件名稱)

  3. Case Provider (主辦機關)

  4. Case Category (公共建設類別)

  5. Operational Contract Period (公告時期)

  6. Terms and Conditions for bidding (招標條件)

Most of these are pretty self-explanatory, but the frustrating part are the ‘conditions’ for bidding as they generally ensure that the majority of those who apply for the contract are automatically eliminated from contention, due to the strict stipulations that are put in place.

As I’m sure you can imagine, it is already difficult enough working with the government, but when it comes to protected historic structures, there are quite a few rules as to what you can and cannot do with the space and the liability for violating them can be quite high. 

At this point you’re probably thinking that the regulations for these OT agreements for historic structures come across as far too rigid and aren’t very cost-effective.

Surprisingly though, the opportunity to actually win a bid to operate one is low as competition is fierce.

The risks may be high, but running a business in a historic building within a culture park is an excellent one. 

The good news is that whether you’re running a coffeeshop, restaurant, bookstore, etc. You should have no problem attracting customers as people are generally interested in these spaces, and since they’re already part of what is sure to become a tourist attraction, its unlikely that there will ever be a shortage of business and/or that you’ll be able to recoup your investment.

There are of course exceptions to the rule, but it’s difficult to imagine that the majority of private companies that win these public contracts aren’t going to attempt to negotiate an extension on the lease when their time is up.

Private dining room at the Zhongli Police Dorms

What’s important to remember about the preservation of buildings of cultural and historic significance is that even though the government is willing to invest in their restoration, the involvement of governmental, non-governmental and private enterprises is required to ensure the success and viability of these projects.

If you’ve travelled anywhere in Taiwan over the past few years, you’ll have seen these OT agreements in action, but probably weren’t aware of what was going on.

Whether its one of the coffeeshops, restaurants or concert venues at the Huashan 1914 Creative Park (華山1914文化創意產業園區) in Taipei, Miyahara Ice Cream shop (宮原眼科冰淇淋) in Taichung, or any of the galleries and shops at the Pier2 Art Center (駁二藝術特區) in Kaohsiung, these partnerships have become integral in the preservation process.

So while it’s tremendous that the Taiwanese government on the local and national level has a renewed interest in the preservation of historical sites, without these public-private partnerships, it would be difficult to actually be able to preserve these heritage assets in a cost-effective way.

Most importantly these partnerships ensure that preservation continues to take place around the country and on a macro level gives the general public have more incentive to visit. 

After all, cultural parks are likely to start getting boring after you’ve seen enough of them.

Taimali Coffee (太麻里文創咖啡館) 

While I’ve had all of this in the back of my mind for quite a while, what actually cemented my interest in getting to the bottom of these Public-Private Partnership schemes was my visit to the beautiful Taimali Coffee Shop in Taitung City.

In fact, Taitung is one of the areas of Taiwan where you can see these Public-Private partnerships on display in a very noticeable way - From the shops that have set up within the Rail Art Village (鐵花村), the Taitung Sugar Factory (臺東糖廠) and the hip coffeeshops that have opened in the old dorms near the Baoting Art And Culture Center (寶町藝文中心), you’ll find that quite a few entrepreneurs are taking advantage of partnering up with the local government in promoting Taitung to the rest of the country - and the world.

This coffeeshop in particular, located within the downtown core of Taitung city (not actually in Taimali Township (太麻里鄉) to the south), is the brainchild of the famed Taiwanese Film Director Huang Chao-liang (黃朝亮), who grew up in the area and is well known for telling stories about his home. 

One of his most recent films “Han Dan” (寒單), for example was set amidst Taitung’s iconic Bombing Master Han Dan (炮炸寒單爺) festival and tells an interesting story while also highlighting one of the most important religious festivals of his hometown. 

Link: Bombing Lord Handan (Taiwan Gods)

Admittedly, what drew me to the coffeeshop wasn’t the coffee. 

I was however quite surprised to find out when I sat down that all of their coffee is locally sourced from ranches in the mountains of nearby Taimali, and that the coffeeshop was more or less a showroom for the award winning coffee beans harvested in Taitung.

The beautiful interior of Taimali Coffee

Known as “First Rays Coffee” (日升之處咖啡) and “Taimali Ocean Coffee” (太麻里海洋咖啡), the area’s coffee beans are harvested at an altitude ranging between 600m and 1000m above sea level in Taimali’s Huayuan Village (華源村), south of Taitung City.

Apparently this is also where the ‘first rays of sun’ hit Taiwan every morning, hence the name.

Given that the climate is well-suited for growing coffee, the high-quality beans that are grown in Taimali are considered to be well-balanced in their acidity, sweetness and bitterness and deliver smooth flavors.

Over the past decade, Taiwanese-grown beans have won several international awards and Taitung’s beans are helping to ensure that Taiwan’s coffee export market will continue to grow as the nation makes more of a name for itself on the market.

Most of this wouldn’t have been possible however without the leadership of Director Huang, who has not only seized upon the opportunity to open this coffeeshop, but also to help consolidate Taitung’s various coffee beans producers and promote them to the world in a professional manner.  

Link: Taimali Coffee Brewing up a Name for Itself (Taiwan Today)

Guests enjoying the coffeeshop

Given that I spend so much time sitting in coffee shops writing all of these articles, you’d think that I’d be more aware of Taiwan’s resurgence on the international coffee market, but I actually had no idea before walking into this beautiful coffee shop. All I knew was that Taiwan has one of the best coffee-drinking cultures around and that many baristas here have achieved international acclaim.  

Located within a Japanese-era Police Dormitory that dates back to 1940 (昭和15年), the Taitung City Government spent NT$12 million (US $400,000) restoring the building. A hefty figure.

Upon completion, a PPP bid was opened to the public and was initially awarded to a Japanese-style Oolong Noodle (烏龍麵) franchise, which quickly set up shop inside.

According to what we learned above, these contracts typically last for a period of five years or more, so the fact that the noodle shop closed within two years of opening says a lot.

Business may not have been very good, but given that they were willing to take the loss on their investment to close up shop years before the contract expired is pretty serious.

The early closure likewise put the local government in a difficult position as the considerable amount of public funds used to restore the space weren’t being put to good use. This and the fact that there were other restoration projects simultaneously taking place around the city meant that there was a lot of pressure to resolve the situation quickly.

With the building empty, Director Huang seized upon the opportunity and submitted a proposal to the Taitung City Government to set up the coffeeshop inside. Given the government’s investment in the restoration of the building and the recent failure of the noodle restaurant, I’m sure that the opportunity to have a well-established film director open a business that would promote locally sourced coffee to the tourists who visit Taitung was probably too good to be true. 

Re-opening in 2018 as the “Taimali Creative and Cultural Coffeeshop” (太麻里文創咖啡館), it has become one of Taitung’s hippest tourist spots, especially with young people who come to enjoy the locally grown coffee in a nostalgic setting. 

As mentioned above, there are strict limitations within what those who lease these historic buildings can do with the interior design. While that might seem rigid for anyone wanting to bid for the operational rights to one of these buildings, it is also to their benefit as the majority of people who want to visit are coming to enjoy the simplicity of old-fashioned Japanese design. 

The interior of the coffeeshop remains true to that in that it features retro-style seating with carefully selected chairs and tables. The shelves used to showcase the coffee are made of wood, like the rest of the building and while they’re obviously an addition, they don’t take away from the rest of the interior design.

Save for the air conditioner and the kitchen area, the only modern additions to the building are some of the decorations on the walls, which for the most part include posters of Director Huang’s films.

The great thing about this dorm, similar to the nearby Baoting Art and Culture Center (寶町藝文中心) is that the interior, constructed from Taiwanese cedar (杉木) absolutely shines in the sun. The natural light that comes into the building in the afternoon is spectacular and makes the ambiance of enjoying a coffee inside well worth the price of your visit!

The exterior of the building is also quite beautiful and features a yard with ‘actual’ grass, something that is quite uncommon in cities in Taiwan.

Even though the building is located on the corner of Tiehua Road (鐵花路) and Fujian Road (復健路), the main entrance is located in a courtyard that faces away from the road.

The entrance features a beautiful Japanese-style covered porch and the walls are covered in beautiful sliding glass windows. 

The courtyard is large enough to allow for some outdoor seating and a covered pavilion where customers can wait for seating. It is also tree-covered with trees that were planted when the building was originally constructed in the 1930s. The tall trees offer quite a bit of shade, making the wait for a seat a lot more comfortable on hot days. One of them even has a swing hanging from it, which is pretty much Instagram gold, if you’re into that kind of thing.

On the opposite side facing the street, you’ll find a washroom where the original outhouse used to be located. These days however, the building has been upgraded with modern bathrooms.

Still though, to access the washroom you have to walk outside to the back entrance of the building.

If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering why I’m not including photos of the coffee or food thats available at the coffeeshop.

I won’t be including any of that. Simply put, I’m not a food blogger and my purpose here isn’t really to introduce or promote the products you’ll get at the coffeeshop.

What I will say however is that the coffee was tasty and the ambiance of sitting inside this historic building was worth the price of admission!

If you’re in Taitung, I highly recommend stopping by this beautiful coffeeshop to learn a little about Taitung’s coffee bean production, enjoy some coffee and more importantly, the former police dormitory which has been completely transformed - and a great example of how these public-private partnerships can be successful!

Getting There

 

Address: #307 Fujian Road, Taitung City (台東市福建路307號)

GPS: 22.75353240966797 121.15357208251953

Located within the downtown core of Taitung City, getting to Taimali Coffee shouldn’t pose any trouble for the average traveller.

The cafe is within walking distance from some of the city’s other popular tourist attractions including the Railway Art Village (鐵花村), Taitung Martyrs Shrine (臺東忠烈祠), Liyu Mountain (鯉魚山), Taitung Bus Station (臺東轉運站), the Taitung Night Market (台東夜市), the famed White House (台東阿伯小白屋) and even the Baoting Art and Culture Centre (寶町藝文中心). 

If you’re staying within the downtown core of the city during your visit, I highly recommend just walking over to the cafe.

If you’ve got a car or scooter, you should be able to find street-side parking nearby, but if you’re visiting during a national holiday, you may be a little trouble parking a car. 

That being said, if you’re staying outside of the city and want to visit, the best way to get there is to take any of the buses that terminate at the Taitung Bus Station, of which there are about 36 and far too many to list here. 

Unfortunately the website for the Taitung Bus Station is only available in Chinese, but you can still check it out to help plan your trip. Your best bet though is to simply click on the bus station on Google Maps to get the full list of buses that stop there and the one that is most suitable for you!

Link: Taitung Bus Station (臺東轉運站) 

You won’t actually find any bus stops along Fujian Road (復健路) where the cafe is located, but this is because the walk from there to the bus station only takes a couple of minutes. 

One thing that is important to note is that the coffee shop tends to be pretty busy, so if you are planning to stop by, I highly recommend heading to their Facebook page that I’ve linked below where you can easily make a reservation.

It would be pretty disappointing if you showed up and the place was so busy that you don’t have the opportunity to enjoy some coffee and a dessert in such a beautifully restored Japanese-era home! 

Hours

From 10:00 to 18:00 on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. 

From 10:00 to 21:00 on Saturdays and Sundays. 

Contact: 089-330398 | Website | Facebook | Instagram

Some of Director Huang’s past work on display

Some of Director Huang’s past work on display

If you are as interested in the preservation of Taiwan’s cultural heritage as I am, this is a topic that should be of particular interest as it is the method by which the government has used to successfully fund restoration projects all over the country.

With hundreds of these projects completed over the past decade, heritage preservation in Taiwan has become a focal point for the rejuvenation of a cultural identity that was once on the decline.

While I’m sure that you’ll excuse me for painting a rosy picture here with regard to the preservation of historic buildings in Taiwan, the sad fact is that we have already lost countless buildings of cultural and historic value. As time passes, the number of historic structures remaining in Taiwan continues to decrease, so if we want to see all of this preservation continue, we should also do our best to support the businesses that set up shop within these places of cultural interest. By doing so, we ensure that these public-private partnerships remain healthy, and also contribute to the local economy.

Possibly the best seats in the house?