May 12

May 12 From “Free China” to “Little Indonesia”: Taipei Main Station and Its Contested Spaces

Last year, the Taiwan Railways Administration imposed a ban on public sitting in the lobby of Taipei Main Station, citing COVID-19 concerns. This sitting ban raised urgent questions: Who has claims over this space? What might be the historical and ideological forces shaping the usage of this space? And why is Taipei Main Station associated with the signs of “Free China” and the rise of “Little Indonesia”?

By Lee Yi An (李易安) and Ho Hsin-Chieh (何欣潔)
Photography by Kevin Chao and Chan Cheuk Fai (陳焯煇)
Translated by Sabrina Chung
Edited by Yu-Han Huang and Elizabeth Shaw

This piece first appeared in Initium Media and was translated and published with the permission of the publisher.

BETWEEN SEATING AND SIT-INS

To prevent the spread of COVID-19, the Taiwan Railways Administration (TRA) imposed a ban on public sitting in the lobby of Taipei Main Station on February 29, 2020. Notwithstanding the subsiding epidemic in Taiwan, Taipei Main Station Master Huang Jung-hua (黃榮華) confirmed on May 18 that the TRA had considered making the sitting ban permanent, pointing out that this decision was made to preserve the order and enhance the public perception of Taipei Main Station.

The imposition of this sitting ban affected not only the Taiwanese public but also the wider population of migrant workers, many of whom used the station lobby as an important site for social gathering and celebration. The annual Muslim festival Eid al-Fitr was happening in May. As such, the permanent sitting ban worked to prohibit Muslim migrant workers from organizing any Eid al-Fitr celebrations in the station lobby as they did in the past years.

Public uproar followed the TRA’s decision. Some pointed out that “migrant workers were being targeted,” while others believed that “the TRA was mobilizing the epidemic to deprive the people of their access to public space.” Netizens called for a sit-in at Taipei Main Station (「坐爆台北車站，野餐唱歌靜坐躺臥皆可」活動) on May 23. They even attempted to organize a game of Roman Athletic Fighting Challenge (a sub-cultural athletic competition popular among Taiwanese youth) in the lobby to challenge the ways public space can be used. However, the Fighting Challenge was cancelled due to other factors.

This was not the first public space-reclaiming direct action that took place in the lobby of Taipei Main Station. As early as 2012 and 2013, civic groups had also organized picnic gatherings at Taipei Main Station based on similar concerns.

Upon learning about the dispute, Minister of Transportation and Communications Lin Chia-Lung (林佳龍) posted an article on Facebook on May 19. He pointed out: “The major functions of the station lie in traffic management and crowd evacuation in times of emergency. As long as basic functions are met, public space usage should not be determined by personal aesthetic judgments and perceptions.” Moreover, Lin instructed the TRA to coordinate with the Central Epidemic Command Center (CECC) to reopen the station lobby once the epidemic was stabilized. This article has won approval from most of the netizens since its publication. However, some still believed that the station lobby has been occupied by migrant workers, and that such an occupation hindered public movement and further injured the image and public perception of the gate to the city. Lin later added: “Hopefully, we can find a win-win solution to the problem.”

People from an older generation might still remember that in contrast to its present-day spaciousness and openness, the central area of the lobby of Taipei Main Station used to be a ticketing area, where a classic split-flap train schedule board could be found right above the ticket booth. How has the current station lobby—the black-and-white checkerboard patterned lobby turned best-rated tourist attraction—come into being? Indeed, this particular area in Taipei Main Station faithfully captures the ebb and flow of changes in Taiwanese society, chronicling the historical events that range from the predominance of anti-communist campaigns to the later emergence of the “Little Indonesia” phenomenon in Taiwan.

THE SPATIAL RECONFIGURATION OF TAIPEI MAIN STATION: FROM "FREE CHINA" TO "LITTLE INDONESIA"

At around 1:00 pm on May 23, hundreds of people gathered in the lobby of Taipei Main Station to participate in the sit-in action. Police officers gathered video evidence at the scene and advised the public to put on masks and observe social distancing measures. Participants of the sit-in action sat and chatted, played chess and cards, or sang and danced. Some spread the banner “Liberate Hong Kong, The Revolution of Our Times” on the ground and discussed issues related to the Hong Kong National Security Law. Despite aiming to “reclaim public space,” the event as a whole unfolded under an atmosphere of restraint, neatness, and respectability.

Regarding the modern history of Taiwan, the changing face of Taipei Main Station reflects the shifting political and economic needs and concerns of Taiwanese society.

In the early postwar period, Taipei Main Station embodied the “transient state” of the Kuomintang (KMT) regime after its relocation to Taiwan from mainland China in 1949. During this period, the KMT government focused its attention to “establish Taiwan as an anti-communist base of Free China” and “stimulate national production to serve the country.” At the practical level, the government aimed to stabilize the economy and maintain its legitimacy to rule. Hence, the major policies it enacted included that of land reform, increased food supply, housing solutions, and more.

Against this backdrop, the KMT had no plans to build new central government halls in Taiwan. Instead, infrastructures left by the Japanese colonial government continued to be used as government halls and public facilities. Among these structures, the Taipei City Government best embodied the “transient state” of KMT affairs in Taiwan. From the postwar period to 1994, its administrative office was housed in a primary school building. Though a major transportation hub, Taipei Main Station shared a similar fate. Until 1986, it operated under the concrete station units built by the Japanese colonial government in 1939, even though the station area designed during the colonial era could no longer suit post-war needs.

In the 1970s, Taiwan’s rapid urbanization and economic take-off led to a sharp population growth in Taipei City. Since the development plan for the Taipei Mass Rapid Transit (MRT) system was still in its infancy, public transport services relied extensively on road systems—so much so that traffic congestions became an everyday disturbance for Taipei residents. To eliminate the urban congestion found at road and railway intersections, the Taiwan Railway Administration (TRA) initiated the Railway Underground Project in 1983. The first phase of the project was concluded in 1989, and a newly built Taipei Main Station was opened to the public.

Haigo T. H. Shen (沈祖海), the architect responsible for the design of the new Taipei Main Station, added a lot of Chinese architectural elements to the structure of the station. Resembling the trademark of the American restaurant chain Pizza Hut, the station roof adopted the design of the “single-eave hip roof” (單檐廡殿頂) commonly used in Chinese palace architectures. The roof could be counted as one magnum opus left by the KMT regime before the lift of the Martial Law in 1987—a public architectural masterpiece that embodied the solemnity of Chinese national culture on the one hand, and performed the political and moral function of representing the KMT as the legitimate government of China on the other.

Why has Taipei Main Station gradually become a meeting point for migrant workers, especially for those from Indonesia? Again, the underlying factors that prompted such a transformation are inseparable from the political and economic development of Taiwanese society.

Taiwan’s economic take-off in the 1980s led to wage increases and labor shortages, compelling the government to officially introduce foreign workers to Taiwanese society in 1992. Statistical data shows that currently there are approximately 700,000 foreign migrant workers in Taiwan, a figure accounting for 3% of the total population of Taiwan. Hailing from countries including the Philippines, Indonesia, Thailand, and Vietnam, this migrant worker population is composed of two types of workers: industrial migrant workers (產業移工) employed in factories, slaughterhouses, and fishing boats, and social welfare migrant workers (社福移工) performing the labor of domestic helpers and caregivers. In 2001, the number of Indonesian migrant workers in this group surpassed that of the Filipinos in Taiwan for the first time. Presently, Indonesia remains the major source country of foreign migrant workers in Taiwan.

Since a significant number of “industrial migrant workers” works in the suburbs of Taipei and the industrial area of Taoyuan, Taipei Main Station—the central connector of railway and highway systems and other public transport services—comes to serve as the most convenient place for migrant workers sharing the same country of origin to gather during the weekends and holidays.

Being a transportation hub was not the only factor that contributed to the transformation of Taipei Main Station as a site of social gathering for Indonesian migrant workers. Following the completion of the MRT system in 1996 and the subsequent opening of Taipei City Mall—an underground shopping street connected to Taipei Main Station—the flow of people entering the station was redirected underground. This caused a drastic business decline and rent reduction at Jinhua Mall (金華百貨), which was originally located on the second floor of Taipei Main Station. Businesses at Jinhua Mall began in the 2000s to shift their targeted customers to Southeast Asian migrant workers who gathered at Taipei Main Station during the holidays. Many of those business owners were overseas Chinese from Southeast Asia themselves.

Brilliant Time Bookstore (燦爛時光)—a Southeast Asia-themed independent bookstore in New Taipei City that strives for the empowerment and community building for migrant workers and foreign spouses and their children—pointed out on Facebook: “Sitting on the lobby floor at Taipei Main Station is not a right reserved for migrant workers alone; it constitutes a part of the daily life of Taipei residents and as such creates a contact zone where the Taiwanese public and migrant workers can interact with each other. From the perspective of foreign visitors, this also embodies the friendliness and openness of Taiwanese society.”

Another factor also contributed to the emergence of “Little Indonesia” around the area of Taipei Main Station. Located on the east side of the station and right behind Cosmos Hotel Taipei, the area of Beiping West Road witnessed a delayed process of urban renewal due to the dilapidation of housing conditions, the fragmentation of land holdings and property ownership, and the irregular spatial arrangement of neighborhood units which hindered property development. This underdeveloped area however attracted an array of Indonesian small businesses and restaurants, gradually contributing to the formation of “Little Indonesia.” Taipei Main Station became a site where Indonesian businesses congregated thanks to the low rental rates at Jinhua Mall and the Beiping West Road area.

CLAIMING THE STATION: FROM THE COMMODIFICATION OF PUBLIC SPACE TO THE MATURATION OF CIVIL SOCIETY

At the start of the 21st century, the global force of neoliberalism introduced a paradigm shift in the ways public space was perceived and organized in Taiwan. Since neoliberal thinking encourages market liberalization and deregulation, it led to the privatization and corporatization of public services or state-owned enterprises, including hydroelectricity and railway transportation.

Although the privatization of Taiwan Railway has not yet taken place, the TRA has had to grapple with the pressure to expand businesses, improve finances, and increase revenue. Thus, in 2005, the TRA decided to terminate business relationship with the poorly managed Jinhua Mall with whom it has been involved in lawsuits for many years. It opened the second floor of Taipei Main Station for investment, hoping to attract professional shopping-mall management teams to run the space. In the end, the renowned consortium “Breeze Center” won the bid.

Facing the valorization of space and a sharp rent increase, the Southeast Asian small businesses originally housed in Jinhua Mall faced the well-known dilemma of gentrification. No longer able to operate their business in Taipei Main Station, these stores relocated themselves to the “Little Indonesia” area of Beiping West Road and the underground shopping street nearby. They continued to cluster around Taipei Main Station.

Due to its complicated circulation flow and disorderly signage design and passenger information system, Taipei Main Station earned the sarcastic name of an “underground labyrinth” from passengers. To tackle such issues of unsystematic spatial and signage arrangements, the TRA initiated a renovation project of Taipei Main Station in 2010. It removed the ticketing area previously located in the lobby on the first floor, aiming to widen the lobby space and improve the circulation of and line of sight for passengers.

The renovation project was completed by the end of 2011. To avoid the gathering of homeless people, the TRA did not reinstall a seating area in the lobby. However, the public began to sit on the redesigned black-and-white checkerboard patterned lobby floor. For migrant workers, the renovated station lobby was an excellent gathering space, especially when it provided them with air-conditioning and sheltering from the rainy and stuffy weather of Taiwan. Over time, the sight of people relaxing while sitting on the lobby floor became a strange sight at Taipei Main Station.

However, the gathering of migrant workers in Taipei Main Station has slowly attracted public discontent. In August 2012, Muslim migrant workers organized the first Eid al-Fitr celebration in the renovated station. As they were about to gather in the lobby for holiday celebrations, the TRA was well-prepared to ban such gatherings from occurring and prohibited migrant workers from entering the lobby. The TRA’s mistreatment of migrant workers was met with waves of criticism. However, in the name of “enhancing the public perception” of the station, the TRA later banned public sitting on the lobby floor, pointing out that “those who have cravings for food and drinks should seek out restaurants at the Breeze Center located on the second floor of the station.” The TRA was further criticized for its practices of “corporatizing and commodifying public space.”

In 2013, a civic group launched a sit-in activity in Taipei Main Station, inviting the public to sit on the lobby floor and share food and drinks. The activity aimed to protest the TRA’s appropriation of the migrant workers’ and general public’s right to public space. Under the pressure from different parties, the TRA eventually lifted the sitting ban in September. Since then, it has become a common practice for people to sit on the lobby floor, and the lobby space has been used as a carnival venue for the yearly Eid al-Fitr celebrations.

The TRA’s withdrawal of its sitting ban was not without criticism, however. Although seemingly well-intentioned, the TRA’s compromise could exacerbate public discrimination against migrant workers. Furthermore, underlying the controversies surrounding the TRA’s sitting ban was a broader set of structural questions: How should the government address migrant workers’ need for public space? And how should the gentrification and commodification of public space be solved in the long run? How should public space be used in an “appropriate” manner? Why is it considered a displeasing sight when the public chooses to sit on the lobby floor of Taipei Main Station? In what ways will the sight of public sitting harm the “international image” of Taiwan? Will social gatherings and festive celebrations in Taipei Main Station contradict the purpose of this space, originally designed as a transportation hub?

There are no easy answers to the above questions. In general, however, the spatial development of Taipei Main Station can be regarded as a historical synecdoche of modern Taiwanese society. It chronicles the ebb and flow of changes in Taiwan from the postwar anti-communist fervor to the demise of KMT political dominance; from the rise of neoliberalism and the commodification of public space to state-owned enterprises’ reflection of spatial design and passenger experiences; and finally, from the two sit-in protests that advocate for the rights of minority groups to the maturation of civil society.

TO SIT OR NOT TO SIT?

Further clarifications need to be made regarding the controversy surrounding the TRA’s sitting ban. As far as the renovated station lobby is concerned, social events or gatherings are encouraged rather than prohibited. Indeed, part of the TRA’s agenda to renovate the lobby was to make space for a multifunctional venue for future events. Some may ask if there are laws or regulations governing the act of sitting on the lobby floor of Taipei Main Station. During the 2012 and 2013 disputes, the TRA already suggested that no existing law would be applicable to the acts of sitting.

However, Article 71 of “The Railway Act” stipulates that “in case of any of the following violations occur, the fine is a minimum of NT$ 1,500, not to exceed NT$ 7,500: (10) Obstructing other passengers and refusing to leave when ordered; (11) Without any reason, lying down on seats in carriages or platforms, and ignoring an order from train station authorities.” This article might serve as the legal basis to regulate the act of sitting on the lobby floor. The necessary condition for its violation, however, involves the act of “obstructing other passengers and refusing to leave when ordered.” From the TRA’s official records, sitting on the lobby floor does not violate Article 71, hence resulting in no legal consequences.

For example, after the TRA’ controversial ban over migrant worker gatherings in 2012, the Ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Transportation and Communication co-organized a “flash dance mob” in the station lobby. Then Minister of Culture Lung Yingtai (龍應台) even announced that “everyone can participate in the event.” In late 2019, the TRA held “Future—Renaissance”, a special exhibit of its own at the multifunctional venue of the station lobby. What these various activities suggested is that the renovated station lobby no longer serves the single function of directing passenger circulation.

With the gradual increase in the flow of people at the station, Taipei Main Station Master Huang Jung-hua also expressed to news outlets that Taipei Main Station is an open space, meaning that the issue of public accessibility should never be a matter of concern. In consideration of COVID-19 prevention, however, the public will be advised to follow social distancing measures and wear facial coverings. When the epidemic eases in the future, the TRA will follow the instructions from the Ministry of Transport and Communication and invite different [civic] groups, scholars, and experts to discuss usage of the space.

Has this round of controversy introduced new rules for spatial reconfiguration in Taipei Main Station? From “Free China” to “Little Indonesia,” Taipei Main Station witnessed a myriad of changes in Taiwanese society. How will its space be further contested, and by whom and for what ends? The answer is yet to be written by Taiwanese society.