REMEMBERING 228
Tomorrow is an important date in Taiwanese history. Mention “228” to a Taiwanese and you will get a sober nod of assent. For February 28, 1947 was a date in Taiwanese history that we would rather not remember but will never forget.
Japan controlled the island of Taiwan from 1895 to World War II. And so for the first half of the 20th century, the people of Taiwan, while they felt a common heritage with mainland Chinese, looked very Japanese on the outside: Japanese signage and dress could be seen everywhere, and many people spoke Japanese as well as Taiwanese and Mandarin.
Chiang Kaishek’s government had been booted from mainland China by the communists after World War II and had taken refuge in Taiwan. They hoped to regroup and then reclaim the mainland. While they waited in Taiwan, they became increasingly hostile and oppressive towards the native Taiwanese, whose Japanese-ness rankled them. Chinese soldiers enforced a sort of military state with heavy-handed methods. It was, as author Su Bing described it, “a stick of dynamite waiting to be set off.”
The ignition was provided on February 27, 1947. The Chinese authorities had been systematically intimidating small cigarette shop owners in order to have a monopoly on alcohol and tobacco. Agents raided a woman’s shop, kicked her violently, seized her cigarettes and her money, and finally cracked her over the head with the butt of a pistol. An angry group of Taiwanese confronted the police, accusing them of robbing her and demanding they return the inventory. Flustered by the mob, the police opened fire and sped away. A young Taiwanese was shot and killed.
The next day, demonstrations intensified. As a group closed in on a government building, the police opened fire again, Boston Massacre-style. Rioting ensued, and the situation quickly became a state of war, with the army scuffling with crowds and shooting at the unarmed.
Ten days later, Chinese reinforcements arrived on the island, really turning the tide against the Taiwanese. These soldiers from Shanghai arrived with annihilation on their minds. Anyone accosted in the streets who could not answer the question, “Who are you,” in fluent Mandarin Chinese was shot on the spot. They searched every Taiwanese house, cut off ears and noses, amputated limbs, and threw people off roofs. The bodies of both the live and bound as well as the dead were tossed into a nearby harbor. These brutalities continued for ten days.
I know about these things because of books I have read, but also because of first-person accounts from relatives of mine, including both sides of grandparents, who told me of cowering in their homes and fearing for those loved ones who were still out and about. I have never myself been the victim of terror or racial violence, but have had recounted to me what it is like to fear for your life and to know that you are marked for brutality and execution simply because of your ethnic background. It is, again, something you wish you didn’t have to remember, but you know you will never forget.
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