Visitors to the newly opened National Museum of Taiwan History in Tainan City are greeted by a slanted solar-panel wall, a “wall of clouds” reflecting the sky and surrounding natural landscape.
In stark contrast to this imposing structure, an old-time thatched-roof bamboo hut stands humbly beside twin lakes in a corner of the 20-hectare museum complex. Historically the area was an estuary beset by frequent flooding, where bamboo cabins made for easy relocation.
In the 16th century the site was separated from the Taiwan Strait by a string of islets, and functioned as Taiwan’s first trading hub, where the Chinese, Japanese and Dutch came to do business with Chinese immigrants and indigenous residents.
Museum Director Lu Li-cheng believes no place could be better suited for a museum on Taiwan history. “History here refers to the history of the land and people, rather than history as interpreted by historians, and the location says that.”
The Tainan area was so important that its name was sometimes used to refer to the whole island. The outside world had no set moniker for Taiwan: Ming-dynasty Chinese called it Dongning, the Portuguese referred to it as Formosa, the Spanish Hermosa, the Dutch Taijouan and the Japanese Takasago.
“Imagine this. It was the opening chapter of Taiwan’s 400 years of history, a page filled with meetings of different cultures and peoples that also put Taiwan on the map of the Age of Discovery,” Lu said.
After the museum’s preparatory office was set up in 1999, one of its most important projects was seeking out maps and documents pertaining to Taiwan archived overseas by museums and other institutions, as well as individuals.
“Since Taiwan’s history began with encounters with outsiders, we knew there had to be many important texts waiting to surface in foreign archives,” he said.
Since 2002, the museum has collected more than 200 books about Taiwan published in languages other than Chinese, along with maps drawn between the 16th and 19th centuries. The largest number of materials comes from the Netherlands, with many also from France, Germany and Japan. The acquisition work continues.
According to Lu, an anthropologist, in the past most writing on Taiwan history relied heavily on Chinese-language documents, which contain errors that have been repeated over and over again, “due to lack of support from field studies and unquestioning copying.”
“Textbooks tell us Taiwan’s opening up began with the Qing court sending officials to manage the island, but foreign materials provide a very different view,” he said. “These documents help redefine the identity of Taiwanese in the modern context.”
Indeed, the museum takes visitors to the island’s hybrid origins, prompting them to ask, “Who are the Taiwanese?”
Arranged chronically in seven sections, the museum’s exhibition begins with archaeological excavations from throughout the island with finds dating back to 20,000 years ago. It then focuses on the interactions among different peoples and cultures over the past four centuries, as well as humanity’s relation to the land.
The display is designed so that people are not told about the past, but instead re-experience it, from the perspective of ordinary people rather than well-known historical figures.
For example, Lu said, Japan’s control of Taiwan (1895-1945), with its emphasis on law and order, is represented in the re-creation of a Japanese-era police station, modeled on the remnants of one in Chiayi City. “Police officers of the time were involved in every aspect of people’s daily lives,” he noted. “That’s why to sum up the colonial era we chose a police station over the Governor-General’s Office in Taipei, now the Presidential Office.”
The museum’s focus on folk life continues in its reconstructions of popular entertainment, important industries and wartime Taiwan.
The last two sections cover life from the end of World War II, when the ROC government came to Taiwan, to the present day. A classroom teaching anti-communist and Chinese-culture centered ideology shows aspects of postwar education; a “living room-cum-factory” presents a microcosm of the everyday life behind Taiwan’s economic boom of the 1980s; and protesters in the street take visitors back to the political and social struggles prior to and following the lifting of martial law in 1987.
“Here in the museum we have a summary of Taiwan’s history, and while gaps and omissions are inevitable, we’ve done our best to keep them to a minimum,” Lu said.
“There are no ‘national treasures’ in our collections, but lots of stories about people from all walks of life,” he added.
When it comes to the indigenous peoples, special attention is devoted to their clash with the concept of a modern state, particularly under the rule of the modernizing Japanese—a clash that has continued under the later Han Chinese governments.
“The museum does not represent Formosan indigenous peoples as static objects for display,” Lu said. “You see the Tao culture on Lanyu from the last century, as well as their people taking to the streets in the 1980s to protest against the nuclear waste being dumped on the island.”
The facility’s name may lead to confusion with the National Taiwan Museum and National History Museum, both in Taipei. According to the director, however, the NTM does not feature history, and the NMH highlights Chinese culture and history.
The new institution is not a complement to either of those museums, but has its own purpose. “It does not simply display historical objects, but attempts to convey an idea, an attitude toward history,” Lu said.
He explained that at present interpretations of Taiwan’s history often come through political prisms, a consequence of decades of authoritarian rule and the backlash from the repressed that came with increased social freedoms during democratization.
But Taiwan should not restrict itself to nearsighted political disputes, Lu said, and should instead see the island from the perspective of global history. “This helps us imagine, and work toward, a Taiwan where citizens with different backgrounds and memories embrace cultural diversity and democratic values as common goals.”
As with any museum, education is a primary objective. “We pay particular attention to making the museum attractive to children, hoping to cultivate the right attitude toward history and an open mind toward different cultures,” Lu said.
The 1,514-square-meter first floor is dedicated to children under 9, designed to connect them with Taiwan’s past, natural environment, agriculture and the games their parents and grandparents used to play.
Research is another major function for a museum, and several smaller galleries on the fourth floor serve as venues for special exhibitions on current studies by the institution’s researchers, which the director called “our most precious assets.”
“A museum is not a museum just because it has a building and displays artifacts,” Lu said. “A museum must be able to continue to generate knowledge, inspire people and help build dreams.
“This museum is dedicated to all the people of Taiwan, and we hope each one of them, regardless of age or background, will gain a unique experience here.” (THN)
Write to June Tsai at june@mail.gio.gov.tw