On Jan. 16, the Presidential Office held a roundtable forum on the cultural and creative industry, and on Feb. 21 it held an important meeting on the economic situation. One of the strategies decided upon at that second meeting was to promote six key emerging industries, including culture and creativity.
Unfortunately, during the same period, buildings of cultural value were demolished including ancient kilns in Miaoli, the Chou Family Mansion and Garden in Sijhih (汐止), the Scholar’s House in Lujhou (蘆洲) and granaries in Sansia (三峽) and Yingge (鶯歌). Media reports also showed the dilapidated remains of a Shinto shrine in Hsinchu.
Sad to say, while the central government may be sincere in its pledges to protect cultural assets, local authorities feel free to demolish them. In the case of Miaoli’s kilns, the county government said it was exercising “local autonomy” in knocking them down. When it comes to promoting other kinds of cultural activities, however, these local officials never hesitate to ask the central government for money.
In Europe, the US and many other parts of the world, it is considered a great honor for a town or village to have something classified as a cultural asset. In Taiwan, however, when any such classification is proposed the response is likely to be overnight demolition. As a result, our cultural assets continue to disappear.
Divorced from material culture, creativity becomes an alienated and empty affair. Culture is inseparable from life, and this is especially true of tangible assets such as buildings and relics. It is natural that they should provide the inspiration and backdrop for cultural and creative activities. Regrettably, such cultural bases, including settlements built to house military dependents, are disappearing at an alarming rate.
What lies behind this destruction? The root cause is an outmoded attitude of putting development above everything else, of “out with the old, in with the new.” This is reflected in many laws that are not conservation friendly and lack the concept of “cultural justice.” Moves are now afoot to amend the 2005 Cultural Heritage Preservation Act (文化資產保存法). For this process to be effective, it is essential to build alliances between government ministries, departments and non-governmental organizations, and to think in terms of historic buildings and relics.
Some strategies that would more effectively protect cultural heritage are: Listing potential cultural assets in each area and taking them into consideration in regional and urban planning; including cultural heritage evaluation in all title deeds, which would require owners to keep them in proper condition but would not affect the right to buy and sell the property; employing cultural philanthropy trusts to foster “civic conglomerates” to help preserve cultural assets; adding a clause providing for citizens’ litigation to rein in government departments that fail to show proper concern for cultural assets; changing the law to give central authorities greater power to intervene at the local level to preserve cultural assets.
Of all the cities in the world, why have so many great artists and writers chosen to live in Paris, the city of which Ernest Hemingway wrote: “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”
Cultural feasts are to be had everywhere in Paris, and consequently the city has long been a hotbed of creativity.
If Taiwan’s creative industry is to prosper, we need to start by respecting our cultural heritage. By thinking globally and acting locally, we may yet see a day when Taiwan, like Paris, will be thought of as a “moveable feast.”
Juju Wang is a professor at the Institute of Sociology at National Tsing Hua University.
TRANSLATED BY JULIAN CLEGG
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,