白色恐怖

Baiyun Police Station (白雲派出所)

It’s a rare occasion when I’m able to combine my interest in the Japanese Colonial Era with another one of my interests, Urban Exploration. Today’s article will feature a bit of both. I’m also going to be touching on an unfortunate event that took place a few short years after the Japanese left Taiwan, and has had lasting repercussions on this beautiful country.

Today I’ll be introducing an abandoned Japanese-era police outpost in the mountains that dates back to the early 1920s. More than a century old, the station has played several roles over the years, but is most notably remembered for the suppression of both the indigenous people of Taiwan, and then later against those who opposed Chinese Nationalist rule.  

For some, the station is a dark reminder of an authoritarian history and the violent suppression of Taiwan’s indigenous people and the empty shell of a building that remains standing today is a fitting reminder of that history.

Recently recognized as a protected heritage building by the New Taipei City Government, funds have been available to clean up and preserve what little remains of the station. Still, it remains a skeleton of what it once was, and it doesn’t seem like there are any plans to restore any of the pieces that have been lost.

So, even though the historic police station is a somewhat obscure destination in the mountains of New Taipei’s Xizhi District, I’m not entirely convinced that I should consider it to be the type of ‘urban exploration’ that I’m usually interested in.

Sure, its an abandoned building, but its not abandoned in the same sense of other places that I visit. 

I’m going to try to keep this one somewhat brief in that I’ll spend a little less time introducing the history and architecture of the building than I usually do. However, given that I’m publishing this during the annual 2/28 Memorial Holiday, I will spend a short time introducing the events that made the police station a focal point for some unfortunate incidents that have become a stain on Taiwan’s modern history.

Given that 2022 marks the 30th anniversary of what many consider the formal end of Taiwan’s four-decade long period of White Terror (白色恐怖), which saw hundreds of thousands imprisoned and a still unknown number executed by the state - it’s important that these stories continue to be told and the crimes of the past continue to come to light.

Baiyun Police Station (十三分警察官吏派出所)

When the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895, opposition campaigns sprouted up with the Hokkien, Hakka and Indigenous inhabitants forming armed rebellions all over the island. To quell these movements, the Japanese authorities reacted violently, and as those who opposed their rule were pushed further into the mountains, the Japanese followed suit with a militaristic presence in areas that were once thought to be uncontrollable by the previous Qing rulers. 

For the first few years of Japanese rule, these opposition movements persisted around the island, but as was the case with almost every powerful colonial regime throughout history, they were violently silenced by the more powerful, and better equipped rulers. 

In 1920 (大正9年), the Jusanfun Police Branch (十三分警察官吏派出所) was set up as a mountainous outpost under the direction of the Shiodome District Branch of Taihoku Prefecture’s Police Bureau (臺北州警務部七星郡警察課的汐止分室). Located in the mountains of Shiodome (汐止街/しおどめまち), or what we refer to today as New Taipei’s Xizhi District (汐止區). Geographically located at the intersection of Nangang (南港), Shiding (石碇) and Xizhi (汐止), the outpost was meant to help keep keep the ‘Kypanas’ (峰仔峙社) of the Ketagalan tribe (凱達格蘭族) under control as well as to protect the local farmers as the area was famed for its tea production as well as its coal mines.

By the 1920s Japanese rule in Taiwan had more or less stabilized, so from the time it was constructed until the end of the Second World War, not all that much happened at the station. Records as to what happened after the Chinese Nationalists took over however remain a bit convoluted as resources about the station tend to provide conflicting accounts. Some of the historical information you’ll find about the building argues that it was occupied by the police until the late 1960s, while others argue that it was instead used as a dormitory for the principal of the elementary school next door. While I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case at some point, from everything I’ve seen I think its safe to say that the building was used as a police station and dormitory for the police until the late 1960s. 

What we do know for sure is that when the tragic ‘Luku Incident’ took place in 1952 (民國41年), the station was still in use as a branch of the Xizhi Police Station.

According to the information available from the National Culture Database Management System, in addition to the educational resources provided on-site, the station was still occupied in 1962 (民國51年) by a patrol officer, two administrative officers and a military conscript. The patrol officer was fortunate enough to have his own separate housing to the rear of the station, but the others stayed within the shared-dormitory section connected to the station. 

If my resources are correct, the station likely ceased operating as a police outpost in 1976 (民國65年), but it apparently wasn’t completely abandoned until 1992 (民國81年). My assumption is that during the sixteen year period from when the police left and the building was abandoned, it was probably used as a dormitory for the principal of the school next door.

If that’s the case, the accounts I’ve read could both be correct, but just not precise in the dates they provide. 

Finally, in 2009 (民國98年), the Taipei County Government listed the site as a protected historic building and slated the property for simple restoration, which included cleaning up the landscape and the abandoned materials that couldn’t be saved. Despite being abandoned for more than a decade, and both the building and the landscape in terrible shape, the empty shell of the building was protected as it was atypical of the construction techniques of the era for which there are very few still remaining intact.

Unfortunately, given that what remains of the outpost is an empty shell of its former self, I’m going to provide a couple of illustrations below to offer a better description of how the station originally appeared.

Before getting into the architectural design of the station, I’m going to provide a brief timeline of historic events for the station: 

Timeline:

  • 1920 (大正9年) - Taihoku Prefecture (台北州廳) is redistricted and Shiodome machi (汐止街/しおどめまち) falls under the administration of Shichisei district (七星郡/しちせいぐん) with the mountainous area falling under Shichisei as Jusanfun (十三分 / じゅう さん ふん).

  • 1920 (大正9年) - The 13th Branch Police Station (十三分警察官吏派出所) opens for service.

  • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to an end and Japan surrenders control of Taiwan to the Chinese Nationalists.

  • 12/29/1952 (民國41年) - Security personnel set up a blockade of the village of Luku (鹿窟), a short distance away from the station using the station for logistical purposes.

  • 03/05/1953 (民國42年) - The blockade of the village comes to an end and the security forces leave the area. 

  • 1976 (民國65年) - The building ceases operation as a police outpost and ownership is transferred to the local school for administrative usage.

  • 1992 (民國81年) - Having become run down, the building is completely abandoned, and is left to the elements. 

  • 08/20/2009 (民國98年) - The Taipei County government lists the station as a protected historic site (歷史建築).

Architectural Design

When I write about these historic buildings, I usually spend a considerable amount of time describing their architectural design. In this case however, I don’t really feel like I need to spend too much time on that this time as it’s currently only a skeleton of its original self, with only the concrete base remaining. 

Interestingly, even though the history is rather hit-and-miss in terms of the information that is readily available, when it comes to the architectural design of the building we’re blessed with a wealth of information regarding how it would have looked more than a century ago.

Constructed in 1920 (大正9年), the station was built in an era when Japanese architects were taking inspiration from the Art Deco designs of Europe and fusing it with traditional Japanese design techniques. making use of a combination of reinforced concrete and wood in a style known as ‘Wayō secchū kenchiku’ (和洋折衷建築/わようせっちゅうけんち), or literally “Japanese-Western Eclectic Architecture,” this architectural style spread throughout Japan during the Meiji Restoration (明治維新), and continued with Emperor Taisho (大正) and his successor Emperor Showa (昭和天皇).  

Essentially split into two sections, the eastern side of the building was constructed with concrete and was where the daily operation of the police station would have taken place. The roof of the building was higher than the western side and features the two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) style of roof design. The western side of the building on the other hand was a traditional living space for the employees of the police station and was constructed in a more traditional style featuring a beautiful four-sided yosemune-zukuri (寄棟造 /よせむねづくり) style of roof, creating a three dimensional design as illustrated below.

One of the most important architectural elements of Art-Deco style is the inclusion of flowing geometric shapes and it would be an understatement to say that architects of the time absolutely loved fusing traditional Japanese-style ‘hip-and-gable’ roofs in these designs. These geometrically complex roofs expanded upon the Art Deco style and ensured that traditional Japanese characteristics were plainly visible. So, while it may have appeared that the building consisted of two different roofs, they were actually connected with the eastern end having an arch facing outwards towards the entrance while the western side arched in the opposite direction. 

Obviously, since the only part of the building that remains today is the concrete administrative section, the only part of the roof that we can see now is the (recently restored) two-sided kirizuma roof, which is constructed to look like an ‘open book’ or the Chinese character “入”.

The architecture of this section was regarded by designers as the primarily western-inspired section of the station, or the ‘youkan’ (洋館 / ようかん) with high ceilings and a spacious open interior. 

When you visit today, you’ll find the outline of where the Japanese-style designed ‘wakan’ (和館  /わかん) once existed, with some of the cement pieces from the base still intact. The building itself however was demolished decades ago, and I doubt that there will be any efforts to reconstruct it in the near future. That being said, the building was constructed of wood and was a ‘shared-dormitory’ style building featuring a living space, kitchen, common area and a western-style bathroom (likely added in the 1960s).

The living space would have been connected directly to the station and employees would have been able to go back and forth during the day between the station and the residence.

As mentioned above, there also used to be a separate dorm building to the rear that housed the patrol officer, and I’m assuming his family. The building wouldn’t have been all that large, but it seems like it would have been completely covered by a beautiful tree, which would have been nice. There isn’t any record as to when that particular building disappeared, so I’m assuming that it was bulldozed around the same time as the other building, but there is little evidence that it actually existed today.

Today, the station is simply an empty shell with only a little evidence of what once existed on the grounds - The station grounds cover about 1000 square meters of land (300坪), and if you walk around you’ll be able to find other objects that once existed on the site, such as an old flag pole and the stone barriers on the hill in front of the station. If you take the time to explore and know where to look, you’ll be able to find quite a bit while walking around.  

The Luku Incident (鹿窟事件)

One of the first (as well as the largest) events of the White Terror Period (白色恐怖), the infamous ‘Luku Incident' was a several month-long massacre starting on December 29th, 1952 and spread over a several month period until March 3rd 1953.

While many of the facts about what happened are still unknown, records are slowly opening up thanks to the Transitional Justice branch of the government, tasked with discovering the truth of what happened during Taiwan’s period of authoritarian one-party rule. 

What we do know is a situation the authoritarian government perceived as a threat resulted in a heavy-handed response that saw thousands of police officers marching into the mountains, blockading a village for months, and ended in the arrests of hundreds of innocent people, many of whom were imprisoned on false charges, while others were executed for crimes against the state. 

Official records (currently) state that more than four-hundred villagers were arrested, one hundred imprisoned and thirty-six of them were executed for charges relating to treason or espionage over the four month period. For those that were arrested, interrogation and torture was pretty much a given, and if one ultimately submitted and admitted to a crime (as many do during torture sessions), it was a death sentence.

So what caused this mess? 

Reeling from their losses during the Chinese Civil War, the Chinese Nationalists were intent on eliminating anyone with communist sympathies here in Taiwan in fear that ‘collaborators’ would be able to assist those back in China in any future attack on Taiwan.

In 1949, looking for a strategic stronghold in Taiwan, the village of Luku (鹿窟) in the mountains between the port of Keelung and the capital of Taipei was selected to become a communist base of operations.

By 1950, it is estimated that the group had attracted around three-hundred followers, and named itself the “Taiwan People’s Self Defense Force” (台灣人民武裝保衛隊). In late 1952, one the members of the group was captured and gave up details of the group’s operations including those who were involved. The area was then put under surveillance, and within a month it was decided that the Security Bureau (保密局), the Security Command (保安司令部), the Taipei Garrison Command (台北衛戍司令部) and the Taipei County Police (台北縣警察局) would coordinate and dispatch a 15,000 man response to block the mountains and rout out the communist threat. 

For most people Taiwan today, the incident was one of those largely forgotten events of the White Terror period - Few actually knew what happened, nor what the government did to the people of this village. For the villagers however, life in the aftermath of what happened was never able to return to normal.

For much of the 1950s, the vast majority of the villages men had disappeared, or were dead - This left only widows, children and the elderly, most of whom were geographically isolated from the rest of Taiwan. Coupled with a sense of alienation from their fellow villagers (who were forced to point fingers at each other in their confessions) mention of what happened became taboo within the community, which was renamed ‘Guangming’ (光明里) by the government in order to erase memory of what took place.

In order to further ‘punish’ the people of Luku, the coal mines were shut down and roads in and out of the village weren’t maintained, forcing many to simply pack up and leave.

When the five-decade long Martial Law era came to an end in 1987, and the nation started to transition into a multi-party democracy, the crimes of the past started to come under scrutiny with the 2-28 Incident (二二八事件) given official recognition by the government in 1991, followed by the Luku Incident a few years later.

On December 29th, 2000, the 48th anniversary of the incident, the government unveiled the Luku Incident Memorial (鹿窟事件紀念牌) at the intersection of Luku, Shiding (石碇) and Nangang (南港) as a reminder of the horrible events and the hope that the healing process could finally start after so many years. 

Link: Luku Incident Memorial 鹿窟事件紀念碑 (Foreigners in Taiwan)

How does this terrible incident that took place 70 years ago relate to the Baiyun Police Station?

If you take into consideration the geographic location of Luku Village and the station, it’s easy to see why.

The station was used as a command center for some of the 15,000 armed security personnel who barricaded the village. It was also used for surveillance of the village for the month prior to the blockade.

Link: Gone but Not Forgotten: 7 Historic Sites to Learn More About the White Terror (Taiwan Scene)

Finally, as the village of Luku declined in the aftermath of the incident, the need for a police station in the area similarly became unnecessary ultimately sealing the fate of the building.

Today, the station, like the village above is an empty shell, but as we look back at the tragedies of the Luku Incident, it remains an important historic location with regard to remembering the mistakes of the past.  

Getting There

 

Address: #373 Xiding Road, Xizhi District, New Taipei City (新北市汐止區汐碇路373號)

GPS: 25.037180, 121.641720

Okay, so there is a bit of an issue with the address above, making getting to the area a little difficult.

Coincidentally, when I attempted to visit the station, I had thought I was going to have to jump a fence or something to get in, given the directions that I had read before departure.

The address listed above is officially the address for Linsen Elementary School (林森小學), but that’s not actually where you’re going to find the entrance when you arrive. It is essentially just the closest physical address to where you’ll find the police station given that it doesn’t have an address of its own. 

When you’re making your way up the very narrow mountainous Xiding Road (汐碇路), you’ll come across a sharp turn where you’ll find the entrance to the school on the left. If you’re arrived at the school, you’ll have already passed the entrance to the police station.

When the road curves, you’ll notice a stone set of stairs that ascends a tree-covered hill - from there you’ll simply walk up the hill for a minute until you arrive at the station. The problem for most people is that the station isn’t clearly marked on the road, so you really have to pay attention. 

If you’re driving a car or a scooter, simply input the address above into your GPS or Google Maps and you’ll be able to find your way there from wherever you’re going. A word of advice on that matter though, if you’re driving a car and you pass the entrance to the police station, it’s going to be quite difficult to turn around on the very narrow road. You’re going to have to pay close attention to your GPS and when you see the road start to curve just before you arrive at the elementary school, pull over on the side of the road where there is a grassy area that allows visitors to park. 

If you’re relying on public transportation to get to the police station, you’re in luck as there is amazingly a bus that services the (somewhat obscure) area. That being said, the bus doesn’t come all that often so you’re likely to find yourself waiting around for a while if you take that option. 

The bus is #F903 from Xizhi (汐止) to Tiandao Qingxiu Temple (天道清修院), and it only services the area seven times a day which means that you’re going to have to be very careful with your timing. 

From Xizhi Train Station (汐止火車站): 06:30 08:20 10:00 12:00 13:30 15:30 17:30

From Tiandao Qingxiu Temple (天道清修院): 07:10 09:15 10:40 12:40 14:10 16:10 18:10 

Not wanting to rely on the bus, I rented a GoShare from Nangang Train Station (南港車站) and made my way up the mountain and back by scooter. Unfortunately the only shared scooter services you’ll find in the Xizhi area are iRent and Wemo and they’re few and far between. 

If you were brave you could also rent a Youbike and make your way up the hill to the station, but the hill is quite steep and it’d be a pretty difficult ride, so I wouldn’t really recommend that method. 

The New Taipei City government has invested a bit of money on the preservation of this historic Japanese-era police station, but it’s certainly not a destination that is meant to attract a lot of tourists.

If you find yourself in the area hiking one of the trails, then you should probably make the effort to stop by to check it out, however I don’t think many people are as invested in these things as I am and aren’t going to make a special effort to travel all the way there just to check it out.



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 National Revolutionary Martyrs’ Shrine (國民革命忠烈祠)

It might be fairly obvious by now, but I guess I should admit it openly: The vast majority of the time, when I write blogs, I’m actually only selfishly writing about the places that I personally want to visit.

The problem that I’ve found with this though is that quite a few people look to this site as a resource for traveling in Taiwan - but I’m here spending a bunch of time writing about obscure places that I think are cool, but aren’t likely ever going to be on the radar of the average tourist.

So, when I take a look at my analytics and see what kind of content people are searching for, I feel like I could probably do a much better job if I was just a little less selfish and spent more time writing about the places that people actually want to visit.

I don’t mind writing about popular tourist destinations from time to time, especially if its going to help out all of the travelers wanting to experience the beauty of Taiwan.

But some of the time I find my self scratching my head at the requests I get.  

Suffice to say, its become rather obvious over the past few years that one of the destinations people are looking for more information on is one that I’ve never really particularly had any interest in writing about.

I’d like to think that they’re looking for my particular take after reading what I’ve already had to say about the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall (中正紀念堂) or the Cihu Mausoleum (慈湖陵寢), but I’m guessing thats not actually the case. 

The National Revolutionary Martyrs Shrine (or just the Taipei Martyrs Shrine) has become a popular stop for visitors to the Taiwanese capital in recent years and since it seems like some of you are interested in seeing what I have to say about it, I took some time to visit to get photos and here I am to offer my two-cents.

So, before I attempt to take an unbiased look at the history of this beautiful shrine, let me take a minute or two of your time to explain why the Martyrs Shrine was never high on my list of places to visit. 

Taiwan is a beautiful country, one of the most beautiful if you ask me, but it is a country that has an unfortunate history. Over the past few centuries, the island, known to many as Formosa (福爾摩沙) has been colonized by the Spanish, Dutch, Japanese and the Chinese.

As is the case with colonization, the people who get find themselves becoming ‘colonized’ often get the short end of the stick and are both used and abused by those in power. This remained true in Taiwan and each time a new colonial power took control, the people of Taiwan suffered. 

When the Second World War came to a conclusion, the Japanese Colonial Era in Taiwan likewise came to an end - The question of Taiwan’s sovereignty (in addition to several other areas that were once under Japanese control) became a point of contention and the victors of the war strangely decided not to make any rash decisions on how to solve the problem.  

The thought at the time was (arguably) that the legal status of Taiwan could remain ‘undetermined’ for the time being and would be resolved at an opportune time when the people of Taiwan would finally have the chance to peacefully come to a decision about their own self-determination. 

The obvious problem with this lack of a decision on the matter was that in the meantime, control of Taiwan was ambiguously given to the Republic of China (中華民國) which was led by President Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石), a notable ally of the Americans.

The lack of any concrete decision on the fate of Taiwan’s sovereignty when the San Francisco Peace Treaty was signed has triggered an endless amount of arguments and political bickering for the past few decades as the interpretation on the lack of a decision on Taiwan’s fate is to this day one has not been decided.

Link: San Francisco Treaty (Wiki)

While the terms of Japan’s surrender were being decided in America, the was in China continued as the Nationalists and the Communists were engaged in a brutal civil war which ultimately resulted in several million refugees fleeing to Taiwan.

This meant that any hope of self-determination for the people of Formosa was fading.

With the sudden influx of refugees, the islands infrastructure was pushed to the limit resulting in a massive food shortage and a housing crisis. I’m sure you can appreciate that this meant that those already living here would have to suffer as second-class citizens thanks to yet another colonial dictatorship that cared little for their existence.

To help control the local population, the new colonial regime instituted a 38 year period of Martial Law (戒嚴時期), during which basic rights were suspended and the government was given the power to arrest anyone they deemed to be a threat to their control.

From 1947 to 1987, in what is known as the “White Terror” (白色恐怖) period, it is estimated that more than 140,000 Taiwanese were imprisoned, tortured and executed.

This left generational scars on almost every family and community on the island. 

During the first few years of White Terror it was common for the military to routinely patrol the streets where they were known for indiscriminately abusing anyone they saw.

This included not only the local people but also the refugees who fled here with the Nationalists. 

Note: Many people assume that the only people targeted by the government were local Taiwanese, but the paranoia of those in power led them to believe that citizens were colluding with the communists, so they routinely targeted intellectuals and the social elite on both sides and put them in prison or simply executed them. No one was safe. 

Martial Law was lifted in 1987 and in the years since Taiwan has transitioned into a vibrant and thriving democracy where human rights and freedom are valued aspects of daily life. The days of authoritarianism, suppression, arbitrary execution and the arrest and torture of anyone the Chinese Nationalists viewed as a threat are over.

Unfortunately even though the dream of self-determination has finally been realized, the scars of what happened during those four decades are still felt throughout Taiwan today.

Due to a mass cover up and the destruction of documents related to those events, no one really knows for sure how many people were murdered.

Even though many of the questions about that period of time may never be answered, the government has gone ahead and set up the Transitional Justice Commission (促進轉型正義委員會), an independent agency responsible for the investigation of what happened during the authoritarian period. 

As the Commission continues its important work we will undoubtedly learn more about the gruesome events of the past but the important thing to remember is that while the government is taking responsibility for its past actions, it does so with the goal of social reconciliation and helping the nation to move forward while learning from the mistakes of the past.

Turn your back to authoritarianism!

Related Articles:

Related Video:

By now you’re probably asking yourself why I’ve gone off on this tangent. 

Well, its quite simple - The National Revolutionary Martyrs’ Shrine has essentially very little to do with Taiwan and like the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall, is another symbol of the complicated authoritarian history imposed on Taiwan. 

Is the shrine beautiful? Of course it is. 

Is the changing of the guard a cool ceremony to watch? You bet it is. 

Is it worth your precious vacation time? I’m not so sure. That’s up to you to decide. 

The government currently funds (at great expense) a massive memorial to around half a million soldiers who took part in conflicts that had very little to do Taiwan.

Are there better uses for the space? That’s up for debate and its certainly not for me to decide.

It is however widely thought that one of the recommendations that the Transitional Justice Commission will eventually make is to stop wasting resources for this Martyrs Shrine (as well as some other locations).

This likely means that the days of free admission for tourists may eventually come to an end. 

Now that I’ve said what I think needs to be said, I’m going to proceed below in the way that I usually do by providing the necessary historical information and everything you’ll want to know about what you’ll see when you visit.

Remember though, there is a lot to see and do while visiting Taiwan and yeah, this Martyrs Shine is an impressive destination in terms of its architecture.

So I leave it up to you, if you’d like to visit, then by all means, enjoy yourself!

National Revolutionary Martyrs’ Shrine 

The National Revolutionary Martyrs’ Shrine, otherwise known as the Taipei Martyrs’ Shrine (台北忠烈祠) is located in Taipei’s Zhongshan District (中山區) and is the largest of around twenty such memorial shrines located in Taiwan. 

Dedicated to the fallen members of the Republic of China Armed Forces (中華民國國軍), the war memorial shrine is home to Spirit Tablets (牌位) that honors almost half a million people who were killed during the various engagements dating back to the founding of the Republic of China in 1912. 

More specifically the shrine pays respect those who perished in the following battles: 

  1. The Xinhai Revolution (辛亥革命)

  2. The Northern Expedition (國民革命軍北伐)

  3. The Second Sino-Japanese War (中國抗日戰爭)

  4. The Chinese Civil War (國共內戰)

  5. The Offshore Islands Crisis (大陳島撤退) 

  6. The Shelling of Kinmen and Matsu Islands (八二三炮戰)

The 52,000 square meter shrine complex is located at the base of Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山) and faces the Keelung River (基隆河). Construction started in 1967 and was completed two years later in 1969 under the direction of former President Chiang Kai-Shek.

Although the shrine occupies a large space in terms of area, the buildings occupy only about a 10th of the total space with 5,300 square meters reserved for the Front Gate (大門牌樓), Bell Tower (鐘樓), Drum Tower (鼓樓), Front Hall (山門), Main Hall (大殿), Civilian Shrines (文武烈士祠), the two outer wings (左右廂房) and the administrative building.

Constructed with Beijing’s Forbidden City (故宮) in mind, the architecture of the Main Hall is reminiscent of the “Hall of Supreme Harmony” (太和殿) which gives off an aura of being not only a grand building but also one that is regal in nature - if you’re impressed by such things.  

Coincidentally the Martyrs Shrine is a replacement of another Martyrs’ Shrine that was previously constructed in the same location. The original, which was constructed by the Japanese was a memorial to Taiwanese soldiers who perished during the Colonial Period (1895-1945) named the “Taiwan Gokoku Shinto Shrine” (臺灣護國神社) and was a branch of the Japanese Yasukuni Shrine (靖國神社) in Tokyo.

Link: 臺灣護國神社 (Wiki) | Taiwan Gokoku Shrine Historic Photos (1 / 2)

In fact, of the twenty Martyrs’ Shrines that exist in Taiwan today, the vast majority of them have been converted from Shinto Shrines (神社), Martial Arts Halls (武德殿) or other buildings constructed by the Japanese. 

Martyrs’ Shrines of Taiwan (台灣的忠烈祠)

  1. National Revolutionary Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Taiwan Gokoku Shinto Shrine 臺灣護國神社)

  2. Keelung Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Kiron Shrine 基隆神社)

  3. New Taipei City Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Tamsui Shrine 淡水神社)

  4. Taoyuan Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Tōen Shrine 桃園神社)

  5. Miaoli Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Byōritsu Shrine 苗栗神社)

  6. Tungxiao Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Tsūshō Shrine 通宵神社)

  7. Taichung Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Taichū Shrine 台中二代神社)

  8. Changhua Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Changhua Butokuden 彰化武德殿)

  9. Nantou Martyrs’ Shrine (南投縣忠烈祠)

  10. Yunlin Martyrs’ Shrine (雲林縣忠烈祠)

  11. Chiayi Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Kagi Shrine 嘉義神社)

  12. Tainan Hsinhua Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Tainan Martyrs Shrine 臺南縣忠烈祠)

  13. Tainan Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Tainan Shrine 台南神社)

  14. Kaohsiung Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Takao Shrine 高雄神社)

  15. Pingtung Martyrs’ Shrine (屏東縣忠烈祠)

  16. Penghu Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Hōko Shrine 澎湖神社) 

  17. Yilan Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Giran Shrine 宜蘭神社)

  18. Hualien Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Karenkō Shrine 花蓮港神社)

  19. Taitung Martyrs’ Shrine (Originally Taitō Shrine 台東神社) 

One of the biggest draws for tourists to the Martyrs Shrine is the hourly ‘Changing of the Guard’ ceremonies that take place on a daily basis. The shrine is also home to annual ceremonies that commemorate Youth Day (青年節) on March 29th as well as Armed Forces Day (軍人節) on September 3rd. In the latter, the President as well as the heads of the five branches of government visit the shrine to pay respect to the martyrs. 

The shrine was also the venue used for the funeral of former President Chiang Ching-Kuo (蔣經國) in 1988 before his body was moved to the Touliao Mausoleum (大溪陵寢) in Daxi, close to where his father continues to lie in state. 

For the most part, the shrine is a quiet place of reflection for those with links to the Armed Forces as well as for those (who are politically inclined to) support the old authoritarian regime. Save for rare state funerals and a couple of ceremonies held annually, you can pretty much expect your visit to be a quiet one.

Design

As mentioned above, the Martyrs’ Shrine has a total area of 52,000 square meters, but the buildings inside only take up about 5,300 square meters of that space. The complex is surrounded by a large red wall on three sides with the giant front gate acting as the entrance.

Within the walled complex there are several different buildings that were constructed in the traditional Chinese Palace style with golden roofs, beautiful red columns and white marbled floors.

Below, I’m going to introduce each of the important parts of the shrine so you’ll know what you’re actually seeing when you visit. 

The Front Gate (大門牌樓) 

The Front Gate, which meets with the walls that surround the complex is a traditional three-arched ‘paifang gate’, which is a variation of the common gate you’ll find at traditional buildings and places of worship in Taiwan and across Asia.

Link: Paifang 牌坊 (Wiki)

The gate is a mixture of white with the same shade of red used on the wall that surrounds the shrine with a four-layered green roof that rises from the outside to the centre section. 

On the outside you’ll find a large plaque that reads “Martyrs’ Shrine” (忠烈祠) in the centre with the words “成仁” and “取義“ above the left and right archway which mean ‘to die for a good cause’ and ‘to choose honour over life’ respectively. 

On the opposite side of the gate you’ll find a similar set up with a large plaque in the centre that reads “萬古流芳” which translates as ‘a good reputation for eternity’ and two smaller plaques on either side that read “忠義” and “千秋” which mean “loyalty” and “eternity,”

Below the centre arch you’ll find two Honour Guards standing at attention at all times.

Courtyard (廣場) 

For some reason no one ever talks about the courtyard in their introductions of the shrine, which is a shame. The courtyard here may not be as large as the famed “Liberty Square” (自由廣場) at the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall, but its still huge by Taipei standards.

As I’ve mentioned a few times already, the total area of the shrine is 53,000 square meters with the buildings only taking up about a tenth of that space. So what is occupying the majority of the other empty space? The courtyard.

The interesting thing about the courtyard, and something that I thought had to be mentioned is that the beautiful white stone tends to shine in the sun, but there’s an oddly marked up area that consists of several lines directly down the centre.

If it wasn’t already fairly obvious, they’re the tracks left behind by over five decades of Honour Guards performing their duties, which I think is pretty cool.  

Administrative Wings (左右廂房) 

The two ‘wings’ on either side of the courtyard are traditional-style houses with beautiful green roofs, but there isn’t really much for tourists to see while visiting as they aren’t open to the public as they’re used for administrative purposes.

Still, they’re pretty and good for a photo or two. 

Drum Tower (鼓樓) and Bell Tower (鐘樓)

The Drum Tower and the Bell Tower are situated directly opposite each other on either side of the courtyard a short distance away from the Front Hall. Both are traditional two-storey eight-sided pavilions with beautiful green roofs and lots of flowers planted around them. 

Each of the towers contains a memorial to someone of historical importance and has a beautifully designed spiral staircase to the second floor, which is unfortunately off-limits to tourists. 

Both of the pavilions are great for hanging out and hiding from the sun for a few minutes, especially if you’re waiting around for the Changing of the Guard ceremony to take place. 

Front Hall (山門) 

Once you’ve finally reached the Front Hall, you’re met with two beautiful white marble lion-dogs (石獅).

For reference, the lion on the left is a male (and has a ball in its paw) while the lion on the right is a female (with a cub in its paw). The lions are flanked by beautifully crafted bonsai-type trees and a set of stairs on either side. 

As you climb the stairs and enter the door you’re met with a large open hall that has two bronze murals on either side. The murals depict two of the battles that resulted in the formation of the Republic of China and the formal end of the Qing Dynasty (清朝).

For me, the great thing about the Front Hall has nothing to do with the murals but the impressive red columns and beautiful red doors with their golden studs which work together to provide an amazing view of the Main Hall. 

Civilian Wings (文武忠士祠)

The two wings located to the left and right of the Main Hall are set up especially for two different groups of martyrs that are distinct from your (uhh..) typical martyr. 

The wing to the left is known as the Literary Martyrs Shrine (文忠士祠) and is dedicated to the intellectuals who contributed to the revolution that helped the Chinese Nationalists topple the Qing Dynasty. These are the literati who penned articles (and various other types of literature) that helped contribute to stoking the flames of revolution, but still ending losing their lives for their efforts. 

The wing on the right is known as the Martial Martyrs Shrine (武忠士次) and is dedicated to those martyrs who died during the early stages of the revolution. This shrine is reserved especially for those who were ranked captain or above, each of which received their own individual spirit tablet. 

Both wings are about 13 meters in height and occupy a space of about 403 square meters. The design of both buildings is uniform with the Front Hall and Main Hall with beautiful red columns and a golden roof.

One of the things I appreciate about each of the wings though is that they have beautifully crafted and well-maintained bonsai trees in front of each of the large red columns, which makes for some nice photos. 

Main Hall (大殿) 

The Main Hall is more or less the reason why people are visiting the Martyrs’ Shrine - While its not an exact copy of the “Hall of Supreme Harmony” (太和殿) in Beijing’s Forbidden City, its a very close imitation of the original. The 26 meter high and 1,800 square meter Main Hall is one of the prettiest traditional palace-style structures in Taiwan and it seems like no expense was spared in its construction.

One of the major differences from the original is that with the exception of the doors, windows and ceilings, everything else was constructed with reinforced concrete - Which makes sense given Taiwan’s geographic location on the ring of fire. 

The main shrine is guarded at all times by two of the Republic of China Honour Guards and entry is off limits to the general public. The interior of the shrine is quite easy to see though, so you won’t have to look too hard to see the uncharacteristically large spirit tablet dedicated to the martyrs. 

One of the most notable differences from the Hall of Supreme Harmony in Beijing (if you’ve already been there) is the Republic of China iconography that you’ll find in all of the small details of the shrine. On the roof for example, each of the tiles ends with the ‘Plum Blossom’ emblem that represents the nation.

The decorative trusses between the roof on the lower layer as well as the top layer are beautiful and are locked in place without the use of nails. This is part of a technique often used in temples that creates a network of pieces that helps to support the weight of the roof.

While this may seem insignificant to the average tourist, if you spend some time checking out the craftwork of the interlocking pieces, you’ll end up fascinated with the genius that goes into this style of construction.  

Republic of China Honour Guard (中華民國陸軍儀隊) 

One of the highlights of a visit to the Martyrs’ Shrine is to see the ceremonial changing of the guard ceremony that takes place every hour on the hour between 9:00am and 5:00pm. 

The Republic of China Honour Guard, which consists of members of the Armed Forces from the Army (green), Navy (blue) and Air Force (black or white) performs the ceremony several times a day with two members stationed at the front gate and another two guarding the shrine at all times.

The ceremony lasts for about twenty minutes and includes a changing of the guard, marching, a ceremonial gun inspection with their M1 rifles and culminates in paying respect to the martyrs.

The Changing of the Guard ceremony is popular with tourists at other locations such as the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall (中正紀念堂) and Sun Yat Sen Memorial Hall (國父紀念堂) in Taipei as well as the Cihu Presidential Burial Place (慈湖陵寢) in Taoyuan. The ceremony that takes place at the Martyrs’ Shrine though is considered by many to be the best and you’ll often find people showing up just to check it out and take photos. 

If you do visit the shrine, you’ll definitely have missed out if you don’t stick around long enough to see the changing of the guards at least once. 


Getting There

 

Address: #139 Bei-an Road, Zhongshan District, Taipei. (臺北市中山區北安路139)

Despite being in somewhat of an awkward location, getting to the Martyrs’ Shrine is actually quite easy.

If you have your own means of transportation, simply input the address provided above into your GPS or Google Maps.

Its important to note that there isn’t much available in terms of parking in the area around the shrine, so if you’re driving a car or a scooter, you’re going to have to walk a distance from wherever you’re able to find parking.

If you are making use of public transportation, you have a number of options to get yourself to the shrine.

You will however have to take a combination of MRT and Public Bus to get there.

If you haven’t already, I recommend downloading the Go! Taipei Metro and Taiwan Bus app for your phone so that you can easily get around the country while you’re visiting.

If you are taking the bus, you can take any of the following buses where you’ll get off at the Martyrs’ Shrine stop (忠烈祠站): #21, #42, #208, #247, #267, #646, #677, #902, Red 2, Red 3.

More specifically, you can take the following buses from these MRT stations:

  1. Red Line Yuanshan Station (紅線圓山站): #21, #42, #208, #247, #287, Red 2

  2. Red Line Jiantan Station (紅線劍潭站): #267, #287, #646, #677, #902, Red 3

  3. Brown Line Dazhi Station (文湖線大直站): #902, #247, Red 2, Red 3

If you’d prefer a more scenic route and want to walk, the shrine is only about a 15 minute (1.5km) walk from Dazhi MRT Station. You could likewise also walk from Yuanshan Station, but you’ll have to cross a busy bridge and Google Maps won’t really help you out very much with your route.

Unfortunately the closest YouBike Station is located near the Dazhi MRT Station, so if you ride a Youbike, there isn’t anywhere to dock your bike nearby.

While you’re in the area, you may also want to consider checking out the Yuanshan Grand Hotel, Lin An Tai Mansion, Jiantan Mountain, Jinmian Mountain, the Linji Rinzai Huguo Temple, the Taipei Confucius Temple and Bao-An Temple as well as the beautiful Yuanshan Flora Expo Park.