Zhunan 竹南

Zhúnán 竹南 is a city at the northern end of Miaoli. Apart from being home to an inordinately large Mazu temple, it is also the site of Dapu, a notorious case of land expropriation in Taiwan 台灣.

The Seeds of Unrest

Part of a mural by Taiwanese artist Liu Tsungjung 劉宗榮 in Dapu village.

Last night I went to Dapu Village in Zhúnán 竹南, the northernmost township in Miaoli, for a concert and movie screening commemorating the treacherous demolition of four homes last year. The event took place on the former site of Chang Pharmacy, whose owner, Chang Sen-wen 張森文, was later found dead in a drainage ditch in an apparent suicide. This occurred not long after the government razed his home and business to the ground with all his possessions still inside. In a cruel twist of fate the Chang family was served a bill for demolition equalling the financial compensation offered by the government—leaving them with absolutely nothing. Eminent domain may serve the public interest in special circumstances—but this was outright robbery by the state.

The Dapu incident1, in brief: Miaoli magistrate Liú Zhènghóng 劉政鴻 (pictured above, at left) ordered the expropriation of 156 hectares of land in Dapu Village in 2009, ostensibly to build a new campus of the Hsinchu Science and Industrial Park 新竹科學工業園區. Only 28 hectares were to be used for the park itself—the rest of that land was intended for residential use. In other words, the government seized land from 9452 households primarily to construct hugely profitable residences next to their shiny new industrial development, an obvious case of profiteering referred to as zone expropriation. Put simply: people’s lives were torn apart to line the pockets of a bunch of greedy politicians and their construction industry cronies, all under the banner of “progress”.

The injustice visited upon the four holdouts spurned protests, violent confrontations with the police, and a massive outpouring of public sympathy all across Taiwan 台灣. While the protests were not enough to stop the government in Dapu (nor save Mr. Chang) they helped to plant the seeds of the Sunflower student movement that blossomed in March 2014 with the nearly monthlong occupation of the Legislative Yuan. In this respect the slogan “Today Dapu, tomorrow the government”「今天拆大埔,明天拆政府」 was remarkably prescient.

The mural in the photograph (above) was painted by Taiwanese artist Liu Tsung-jung 劉宗榮 on the bare wall where the Chang pharmacy used to stand. The figure on the left is Liú Zhènghóng 劉政鴻, widely reviled as one of the most corrupt Taiwanese government officials and the arch-villain in the Dapu drama, with a shoe on his head—a reference to when future Sunflower student movement spokesperson Chen Wei-ting 陳為廷 struck Liu with a tossed shoe as he attempted to attend a memorial service for Mr. Chang. On the right you can see the extraordinarily unpopular President Ma Ying-jeou 馬英九 in his PRC finery, decked out with a fancy beaded headdress3 typically worn by gods and emperors in Chinese culture. The blood-red star overhead is the emblem of the ruling Kuomintang political party of which both are a part.

I am neither academic nor journalist so I can’t say too much more (better leave that to the real experts)… but I will say this: I am glad that the Taiwanese people haven risen up against injustice in Dapu and in other places around the nation… and I feel very privileged to have witnessed some of these actions during my time here.


  1. To catch up on the backstory I highly recommend a series of posts on Ketty Chen’s blog: here, here, here (immediately after the July 18th demolition), and here (the tragic, heart-wrenching outcome). 
  2. I sourced this number from a completely tone-deaf article in the China Post. 
  3. Possibly known a miǎnliú 冕旒. I say “possibly” because I’m no expert in this sort of thing. 

An Ordinary Tire Shop in Miaoli

Just a bunch of tires.

I often take perverse interest in everyday, commonplace objects and spaces, particularly while living abroad. There is absolutely nothing remarkable about the garage pictured in this photograph—and yet there’s something about the dimly-lit, dusty ambiance that arouses my curiosity and lyricism. What stories have unfolded in this space over the many years this shop has been in operation? What prayers have been muttered in front of the glowing shrine at the back? We’ll likely never know.

But inasmuch as this photograph is completely ordinary it is also embedded within a greater narrative. Scale outward from this shop and you will find yourself in Dapu, a flashpoint in the struggle for human rights in Taiwan 台灣, and no doubt the scene of many animated discussions over the many years of conflict in the area.