In March 1990, university students and civic groups converged at Taipei’s Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall to protest that—even after martial law ended—presidential elections were still determined by so-called “eternal legislators.” The demonstration later became known as the March Student Movement, or Wild Lily Movement.
On March 23, 1996, when many people in Taiwan walked into polling stations, they may have felt that they were making history. That day marked the island’s first direct presidential election, with over 10 million people venturing out to cast their votes.International media from around the world arrived, drawn by curiosity about this seemingly improbable emerging democratic nation.
On August 23, 1958, the Chinese Communist forces bombarded Kinmen, prompting civilians and military personnel to launch a movement supporting the front lines.
(Collection of the Taiwan Film and Audiovisual Institute / Open Museum)
Yet, the presidential election was not simply a tale of triumph and jubilation. On the eve of the 1996 election, the specter of war loomed over the Taiwan Strait.
In July 1995, Lee Teng-hui—then the incumbent president—visited the United States and delivered a speech entitled “Always in My Heart” at his alma mater, Cornell University, where he elaborated on Taiwan’s evolving democratic journey. The People’s Republic of China (PRC)—which has long sought to annex Taiwan since it defeated the Kuomintang during the Chinese Civil War in 1949, prompting the latter to flee to the island—responded vehemently by launching a series of military exercises near the Taiwan Strait.A year before the incident, a best-selling book titled The August of Leap Year 1995 had swept through Taiwanese society.
The book detailed a hypothetical plan and process for a Chinese Communist invasion of Taiwan. According to the author, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) had long planted operatives in Taiwan, waiting for the day of the presidential election—dubbed "T-Day Zero Hour"—to initiate a coordinated coup from both inside and out, seizing control of Taiwan in one fell swoop.
In 1964, the same year that Peng Ming-min published the “Declaration of Formosan Self-Salvation,” the exiled Taiwanese intellectual Wang Yu-de, living in Japan, published the book Taiwan: A History of Bitterness in Japanese. This book was not published in Taiwan until many years later, but it had already been translated and circulated privately, as it resonated deeply with many Taiwanese exiles who shared his experience of displacement.
Bitterness and misery, tears and sweat—in those repressive times, such narratives often became the primary framework for understanding Taiwan's history. But, is Taiwan's history solely one of suffering?