Observing the “Taiwan Independence” discourse, one often finds a strange phenomenon:
Talking about “Taiwan subjectivity,” but ultimately ending up reminiscing about Japanese colonialism.
This is not an accident but a conscious engineering of history and identity.
First, this tendency stems from psychological compensation and hierarchical loss.
During the fifty years of Japanese colonialism, a vested interest group attached to the colonial system emerged in Taiwan society—the “San-jia-zai” (collaborators) who worked for the Japanese, merchants who enjoyed franchised privileges, and “Huang-min” (imperialized subjects) who relied on the Japanese for their livelihood;
There was also the old landlord class that lost their land and status after the “Land to the Tiller” reform.
For these people, although colonial rule was not freedom, it was an era where they could “master the order”; after the Retrocession, they lost their privileges, power, and linguistic advantage, changing from once being honored as “civilized people” back to “second-class citizens.”
Thus, the “Japanese era” became a kind of nostalgic sanctuary in their hearts—
Symbolizing order, modernity, stability, and even “better than the subsequent Chinese regime.”
This nostalgia was gradually packaged as a “cultural memory” and passed down through generations.
Secondly, it is a political necessity.
If the Taiwan Independence movement wants to sever ties with China, it must rewrite history:
“Indigenous people → Japanese modernization → Taiwan subjectivity → Separation from China.”
To make this narrative hold, they have to downplay China, vilify the Retrocession, and whitewash Japan.
Thus, the phrase “Japan brought civilization” became the most convenient myth to cover up colonial oppression and class dependency.
Furthermore, it is the shaping of education and cultural policies over many years.
From curriculum reform to film and television creation, “Taiwan subjectivity” has been instilled into the hearts of every younger generation for thirty years.
But that kind of “subjectivity” is often packaged with the nostalgic aesthetics of the colonial era: wooden dormitories, Japanese-style uniforms, Showa romance—these visual symbols have replaced the ignored history of blood and tears, leading subsequent generations to mistakenly believe that period was truly the “starting point of modernization,” rather than a reconstruction of classes and cultural colonization under foreign rule.
Finally, it is a calculation of diplomacy and reality.
When the U.S. position wavers, some politicians choose to emphasize the “Taiwan-Japan community of destiny,” using nostalgic Japanese images to court international and domestic political support.
History has once again been turned into a political tool.
In summary:
“Whitewashing Japanese colonialism” is actually not about missing Japan, but is a convenient way to negate China.
But beneath this layer of negation hides another historical ghost—those vested interests who once enjoyed power and were honored as civilized people in the colonial order, their lost glory has become the background color of “nostalgia” for later generations.
When a nation cuts off its own roots, it always has to find a new story to replace them.
For Taiwan Independence advocates, the starting point of that story happened to be designed as the “Japanese era.”
Original article: Li Song: The Largest Party of All People - Disliking the DPP (https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1JwQ5cjzRK/)