Taiwan, the Joyous and Proud

Taipei You know before you arrive that Taiwan is a garrison state; that the Chiang government has brought about possibly the most successful and least painful land reform in history; that U.S. Foreign Aid Chief David Bell recently singled out Free China as one of the three nations in which American foreign aid has been used most fruitfully; that Free China has gained ground among the vital overseas Chinese populations in the other nations of the Pacific and Far Easl, since “the great leap forward” of 1957-58. In the so-called “Battle of the Flags” which takes place in Hong Kong every year when the Communists celebrate the founding of the Peoples Republic of China early in October and the Free Chinese celebrate their Independence Day, the Feast of the Double Ten (tenth day of the tenth month), Free China has gained the ascendancy. Four years ago, the flags were about half and half Communist and Free. Last October, there were several million Free China flags flying to a few thousand for the Reds. This doesn’t mean, necessarily, that the millions who flew the Nationalist banner have been won over completely to the Chiang regime; it does mean, though, that the Chinese, who like to back a winner, now believe Free China may win out in the end.

The island itself is beautiful, a mountainous garden where terraced rice paddies creep far up the slopes until finally they meld into the forest. For anyone interested in how China must have looked before the Communists tried to reshape it to their own dreary image, Taiwan is the place to visit. (Hong Kong, the only other alternative, is fast becoming too Westernized.) Sprawling, attractive red brick farmhouses, with jutting rooms and ells tacked on when the sons get married, dot the countryside. The water buffalo is still the most important beast of burden, the pig the most prized farm animal. Bicycles, motorcycles and pedicabs do their level best, at least to Western eyes, to run down all pedestrians, be they old women with babies strapped papoose fashion on their backs, or the myriads of other men, women and children trotting along with everything from buckets of water to overstuffed armchairs balanced on either end of a long bamboo shoulder pole. Everywhere there’s movement, and color; yes, and smells, both good and bad. You wonder suddenly in all this hurly-burly where President Chiang has stationed that mammoth army of his. There are no more soldiers on the streets of Taipei than in most cities of its size, no visible signs of the garrison state.

PL

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Priscilla L. Buckley

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Taipei You know before you arrive that Taiwan is a garrison state; that the Chiang government has brought about possibly the most successful and least painful land reform in history; that U.S. Foreign Aid Chief David Bell recently singled out Free China as one of the three nations in which American foreign aid has been used most fruitfully; that Free China has gained ground among the vital overseas Chinese populations in the other nations of the Pacific and Far Easl, since “the great leap forward” of 1957-58. In the so-called “Battle of the Flags” which takes place in Hong Kong every year when the Communists celebrate the founding of the Peoples Republic of China early in October and the Free Chinese celebrate their Independence Day, the Feast of the Double Ten (tenth day of the tenth month), Free China has gained the ascendancy. Four years ago, the flags were about half and half Communist and Free. Last October, there were several million Free China flags flying to a few thousand for the Reds. This doesn’t mean, necessarily, that the millions who flew the Nationalist banner have been won over completely to the Chiang regime; it does mean, though, that the Chinese, who like to back a winner, now believe Free China may win out in the end.

The island itself is beautiful, a mountainous garden where terraced rice paddies creep far up the slopes until finally they meld into the forest. For anyone interested in how China must have looked before the Communists tried to reshape it to their own dreary image, Taiwan is the place to visit. (Hong Kong, the only other alternative, is fast becoming too Westernized.) Sprawling, attractive red brick farmhouses, with jutting rooms and ells tacked on when the sons get married, dot the countryside. The water buffalo is still the most important beast of burden, the pig the most prized farm animal. Bicycles, motorcycles and pedicabs do their level best, at least to Western eyes, to run down all pedestrians, be they old women with babies strapped papoose fashion on their backs, or the myriads of other men, women and children trotting along with everything from buckets of water to overstuffed armchairs balanced on either end of a long bamboo shoulder pole. Everywhere there’s movement, and color; yes, and smells, both good and bad. You wonder suddenly in all this hurly-burly where President Chiang has stationed that mammoth army of his. There are no more soldiers on the streets of Taipei than in most cities of its size, no visible signs of the garrison state.