Trees grow in an uninhabited house of southern Chinese style—a typical scene in Kinmen, as shown in Dong Cheng-liang’s “Songs of Kinmen.” (Courtesy of Firefly Image Company)
By June Tsai
For many, Kinmen is the final battlefield of the Chinese Civil War and an anti-Communist stronghold of the Cold War. In the last decade, this outlying archipelago, just a few kilometers away from Xiamen in mainland China’s Fujian Province, was opened up as a busy post for cross-strait links. Taiwanese tourists appreciate Kinmen for its unspoiled nature and simple life, as a county whose residents receive an enviable welfare package, and for the famous Kinmen liquor.
Yet how do the people of Kinmen see their own islands?
Obsolete bunkers, deserted historic sites, empty streets and yellow furrows under the feet of gnarled old farmers—these are some of the scenes that appear in the documentary film, “Songs of Kinmen,” by Kinmen-born director Dong Cheng-liang. As seen through Dong’s lens, they are not meant to be exotic. Rather, the islands are revealed not only in the context of their battle-strewn history, but also in the politics that have decisively affected their society.
“Songs of Kinmen” is part of Dong’s “1949 Trilogy,” which deals with the veteran director’s one and only subject, Kinmen. The series marks the 60th anniversary of the decisive year in which the People’s Republic of China was established on the mainland and the Republic of China government officially moved to Taiwan. That year, the Kinmen Defense Command was set up in the islands and began its long period of heavy militarization.
Although general hostilities in the civil war ended, artillery shelling continued in Kinmen from 1958 to 1977, with the People’s Liberation Army barraging Kinmen on odd-numbered days while the Nationalist army fired back on even-numbered ones to avoid really getting into a war.
The thunder of heavy artillery is thus an ineradicable memory for many Kinmen residents. So are the patriotic songs from both camps—the theme of “Songs of Kinmen”—with which residents were also continually bombarded through loudspeakers.
The documentary intermingles songs, the only audible element in the film, with visual attention to the island’s characteristic scenes—old buildings in the Southern Chinese architectural style, political slogans inscribed on fortifications and tunnels, sorghum and vegetable fields, beach minefields and soldiers’ cemeteries.
Tunes praising “Chairman Mao” and the rising red sun in the East, and melodic celebrations of the heroism of ROC soldiers and the brilliant leadership of “President Chiang” run alternately throughout the film, fiery-spirited or heart-melting. However, they are made ironic by the speechless human subjects and landscapes appearing before the viewer’s eyes.
“We were brought up virtually forced to listen to patriotic songs from both sides, and there was no way to avoid them,” the 48-year-old Dong said after the film was screened in the ROC Control Yuan in December. “With this documentary, I would like to give a voice to those who must always bear the brunt of changes in cross-strait politics.”
Indeed, Dong has been speaking up for the people of Kinmen for over 20 years. His critical examinations of problems arising from Kinmen’s position in history and his concentrated views of every inch of his home territory are his trademarks.
The movie aficionado got his first video equipment in Taiwan at a time when Kinmen residents were prohibited from even owning a radio. His film projects in the 1990s contributed to the lifting of the ban. Later, thanks to collective campaigns by Kinmen people based on Taiwan proper, in which Dong played a major role, the military control of the island was replaced by an elected civilian government in 1992, five years after the ending of martial law on Taiwan and Penghu. The demilitarized islands were made into a national park and tourism was allowed.
Beginning in the new century, Kinmen underwent another twist of fate: it became Taiwan’s frontline for test runs of postal, transportation and trade links with mainland China.
Has Kinmen’s liberation helped bring about prosperity and better living conditions? The independent director’s answer is polemic. In “Golden Liquor,” Dong portrays Kinmen as a fat but spiritually barren county. The 75-minute documentary delves into political and social problems behind the seemingly prosperous business of the world-renowned Kinmen Kaoliang.
A local family led by Yeh Hwa-chen first produced the strong distilled liquor in 1950. In 1953, the military enlisted Yeh’s help and skill to produce the beverage on a larger scale. The distillery later became a government monopoly. Its products rose to international fame and won a brand name for Kinmen. Today the Kinmen Kaoliang Liquor Inc., with two factories, boasts an annual turnover of NT$11 billion (US$344.6 million).
For Dong, behind this shining number is a culture driven by greed. In the beginning of the film, an announcer speaks through a village office loudspeaker urging people to buy the liquor. As the film goes on, one comes to learn that the Kinmen County Government’s social welfare policies include allowing each registered county resident to buy liquor regularly at a low price and legally resell it at a higher price. From officials to teachers and taxi drivers—everyone shares in the practice.
“Year by year, each household has stockpiled a rich hoard of the liquor, which they plan to sell. Some have such a large stock that they have turned former air-raid shelters into wine cellars,” Dong said. This is particularly sad in contrast to the lack of development in the island’s economy and cultural life. “With the profits from the direct sale of the liquor, we could have rounded up the island’s heritage sites into a world attraction. Instead, those in power only know how to buy voters’ support by giving out liquor vouchers and most people are intoxicated,” he lamented.
Moreover, the opening of links with the mainland seems only to have contributed to the outflow of people and economy to the other side. “There has been real urban development in Xiamen, while in Kinmen, the streets have become emptier than ever before,” Dong observed.
His disappointment demonstrates itself in the third film of the trilogy, “My Testament,” featuring Jincheng Township’s Gugang Lake. One man’s narration about a childhood spent mostly playing and working around and in the lake goes with scenes of empty surroundings or historically irrelevant renovations—a sense of despair oozes from the film.
Dong’s critical views are of course repellent to some ears. After showing “Songs of Kinmen” to the county’s descendents in Taipei, for example, Dong was advised to forget about the past, look to the future and make films showing a brighter side to the islands. And following the premiere of “Golden Liquor” in Kinmen last October, Dong even received phone threats demanding he stop future screenings.
For still others, however, the director is a gem for being so outspoken in addressing the inconvenient truth. “I appreciate his critical perspective, which is actually out of love for home,” said Kinmen-born Janice Tsai, owner of a Taipei-based bookstore. “Having grown up in the same repressed environment, I know how difficult it is to do a creative and relevant job.”
His artistic efforts have drawn the government’s attention to the hitherto marginalized island group’s potential to become a world heritage site. There are also ideas to make a museum of the whole archipelago, with its 1,400 years of history. One of the main draws would be the rare meeting of southern Chinese culture and war in these islands.
Dong knows that without the enlightenment of his people, these efforts will be for naught. By making his films and showing them to Kinmen residents, the director wants to awaken his island compatriots, as well as decision-makers, from narrow concerns for personal interests, so they can all work together for Kinmen’s cultural and economic revival.
“We have been looking forward to Kinmen’s development for 20 years. The progress seems too slow,” he said.
This article is published in Taiwan Today Jan. 29, 2010.
