By Michael Riches
The recent breakage of a reported US$77 million in Chinese artifacts at the National Palace Museum is not just a misfortune, but an apt metaphor of the fragility of Taiwan’s relationship with China.
Not only should these treasures be handled with physical care, but with diplomatic sensitivity. Mishandling can result in fractures in more ways than one.
This fact should be heeded by the Czech Republic and the museum as both move toward an agreement to loan items for display in Prague.
“Czech people like the richness of the Chinese culture, and the treasures of the National Palace Museum are just something that is absolutely stunning,” Czech Representative to Taiwan David Steinke said in a Nov. 2 interview with CNA.
The article also referenced an agreement the museum signed with Prague in September to cooperate on a loan.
Both sides seem to be exercising poor judgment in allowing sovereign Taiwan to be represented abroad through the “richness” of artifacts that span China’s history.
My view on this matter might seem to casually disregard the long, complex history of the Republic of China, but what needs to be considered is not the local grasp of the museum’s meaning, but what messages the collection sends to foreign audiences viewing the artifacts half a world away.
Consider how the museum has been a cornerstone of my understanding of Taiwan since before I set foot here. When I worked in Shanghai, a friend there highlighted the National Palace Museum as prime evidence that Taiwan belonged to China. For him, it was a matter of pride that beautiful Taiwan was connected so meaningfully to his motherland through Taipei’s curation of a shared history.
Two years after hearing this perspective, it was bolstered in a 2009 New York Times article, in which then-Beijing Palace Museum curator Zheng Xinmiao said that the collection is "China's cultural heritage jointly owned by people across the Taiwan Strait.”
Back in my home city of Vancouver, another Chinese friend was not so diplomatic. He spoke about Taiwan with great hostility, citing the National Palace Museum as full of treasures “stolen” by Taiwan.
Upon my first visit to Taiwan in 2011, to study Mandarin, a new friend offered to take me to the museum. I got another taste of strong feelings about the collection when I flippantly told him that we were going to see the “stolen treasures.” He was outraged.
“Stolen? Those priceless artifacts would have been destroyed in the Cultural Revolution if we hadn’t rescued them,” he said.
Since that part of history was long in the past, I wondered if now would be an apt time to return what belongs to China. No, my friend said — the items should remain in Taiwan for safekeeping as long as the Chinese Communist Party was in power.
All of these stances made sense to me at the time, having had little understanding of Taiwanese history and culture. I eventually accepted my Taipei friend’s assertion on face value, but when I finally visited the museum myself, I had to wonder: If the collection was in Taipei merely for safekeeping, why was it being proudly displayed on ornate grounds as though it belongs to Taiwan?
As a foreigner, I realize that it is not possible for me to intuitively comprehend all the contradictions transmitted by the National Palace Museum’s existence in Taiwan. Even now, after having studied and worked in Taiwan for six years, with three visits to the museum and countless conversations on these issues with local professors and friends who hold a variety of political views, I still find it highly inappropriate for Taiwan to be putting China’s history on proud display while officially denying its historical ties with China.
If my stance demonstrates ignorance, then perhaps that should be taken as my point: Imagine what kind of naive conclusions other foreigners might reach when viewing parts of the collection half a world away.
Presenting what China calls a “jointly owned heritage” to the Czech Republic, or anywhere else, only amplifies an ambiguous message about Taiwan’s sovereignty, much to Beijing’s advantage.
Only Taiwanese can innately understand the complexities of the Republic of China’s history in Taiwan. These issues should not be exported for foreign consumption, as doing so sends a simplified and contradictory message when removed from a local context.
Outsiders should be required to view this collection from within Taiwan, where the possibility exists that they might hear differing viewpoints from locals about what the museum means to them.
Additionally, given this year's heightened tensions with China, it would be wise to not move the collection in ways that could be considered provocative. The museum has recognized this possibility by its insistence that Prague enact an anti-seizure law before hosting the museum’s collection. Such a request only highlights to the Czech people that the collection’s ownership is contentious, and one must wonder why the government in Prague would want to move this argument onto their soil.
If the Czech Republic wants to promote the “richness of Chinese culture,” as its local envoy claims, then perhaps a loan from the Palace Museum in Beijing might be more appropriate. If the goal is to promote Taiwanese culture, there are countless local galleries that might be pleased to loan works that better represent this nation’s history.
