Showing Taiwan’s army officers a film about the Republic of China (ROC) forces fighting Japan shouldn't be controversial. Yet, it sparks a firestorm every time. The core of the argument isn't actually about cinema or even 1930s history. It’s about who the soldiers in Taiwan are today and what they’re supposed to be defending. If you think this is just a boring HR dispute in the Ministry of National Defense, you’re missing the point.
The controversy usually centers on films like The Eight Hundred. This movie depicts the defense of Sihang Warehouse in 1937. It’s a story of incredible bravery by the ROC 88th Division against the Imperial Japanese Army. Some people in Taiwan see these films as vital heritage. Others see them as a "re-education" tool designed to link Taiwan’s current military to a Chinese identity they no longer feel.
I’ve watched these debates play out in Taipei’s political circles for years. The tension exists because Taiwan’s military history is a fractured mirror. On one side, you have the institutional lineage of the Whampoa Military Academy. On the other, you have a modern democratic state trying to define itself apart from the Chinese Civil War. When you play a movie about the KMT’s "Glory Days" on the mainland to a room full of young Taiwanese lieutenants, you aren't just showing a war flick. You’re making a political statement.
Why History Is a Minefield for the ROC Army
The military in Taiwan is officially the Republic of China Armed Forces. Its roots are deep in the soil of Nanjing and Guangzhou. Many senior officers still hold to the "Whampoa Spirit." They believe the military’s soul is tied to the fight against Japan and the eventual struggle against the Communists. To them, showing these films is about professional pride. It’s about honoring the bravery of their predecessors.
Younger recruits often see it differently. Most soldiers today were born long after the ROC moved to Taiwan. Their identity is tied to the island, not the mainland provinces their great-grandfathers might have come from. For them, a film about defending a warehouse in Shanghai feels like foreign history. It’s as distant as the Napoleonic Wars.
When the Ministry of National Defense (MND) organizes these screenings, the backlash usually focuses on "brainwashing." Critics argue that the military should focus on defending Taiwan's current territory and democratic values. They worry that focusing on the 1930s fosters a "One China" sentiment that makes the military less committed to resisting a modern-day invasion from the People's Republic of China (PRC).
The Problem With Erasing the Past
You can't just delete the KMT's history from the military and expect the institution to survive. That’s the reality. Every army needs a narrative. If you strip away the ROC’s history of fighting Japan, what’s left of the military’s institutional foundation?
Some suggest replacing these films with stories of Taiwanese resistance against the Japanese during the colonial era or the defense of Kinmen in 1949 and 1958. That makes sense. It localizes the heroism. However, the 1937–1945 period remains the largest conflict the ROC ever fought. It’s where their medals, their ranks, and their unit flags come from.
Ignoring the War of Resistance against Japan creates a vacuum. Beijing is more than happy to fill that gap. The PRC has spent the last decade trying to claim the mantle of the "true" victors of the anti-fascist war. If Taiwan’s military stops teaching its own history—even the parts that happened on the mainland—they essentially hand that legacy over to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).
Modern Identity vs Institutional Heritage
This isn't a binary choice between "Taiwanese" and "Chinese" history. It’s about layers. A modern officer needs to understand the bravery at Sihang Warehouse while also being 100% committed to the defense of Penghu, Kinmen, and Taipei.
The mistake isn't showing the movie. The mistake is showing it without context. If you screen The Eight Hundred and don't talk about how that sacrifice led to the military’s current role as a guardian of democracy, you fail. The connection needs to be explicit. The soldiers at Sihang Warehouse fought for the survival of their nation against an existential threat. Today’s soldiers face a different existential threat, but the requirement for courage is the same.
We also have to talk about the political baggage of the films themselves. The Eight Hundred, for instance, is a mainland Chinese production. It was censored in China before its release because it showed the ROC flag—the "Blue Sky, White Sun, and a Wholly Red Earth"—too prominently. It’s deeply ironic. You have a film that was censored by the CCP for being too pro-ROC, and then it’s criticized in Taiwan for being too "pro-China."
The Real Risk of Disconnection
The most dangerous thing for any military is a disconnect between the officer corps and the civilian population. In Taiwan, this gap is wide. The military is often seen as a bastion of old-school KMT conservative thought. The civilian population is increasingly moving toward a distinct Taiwanese identity.
Screening controversial films can widen this gap if handled poorly. If the public perceives the military as being obsessed with a "lost" China, they lose trust in the army’s willingness to defend the actual island they live on.
But there’s a flip side. If you completely "Taiwanize" the military history and cut off the 1937-1945 era, you risk demoralizing the professional officer class that takes pride in that lineage. You need those people. They’re the ones who spend their lives studying strategy and manning the missile batteries. You don't want an army that feels it has no history.
Building a Unified Narrative
So, is it wrong to show these films? No. It’s necessary. But it has to be part of a broader, more honest curriculum.
The training shouldn't just be about 1937. It should also be about 1996 (the Missile Crisis) and 2024. It needs to include the story of the 823 Artillery Battle in Kinmen, where the ROC military proved it could and would hold the line against the CCP. That’s the bridge. It connects the mainland history to the island’s defense.
We need to stop treating history like a political loyalty test. A soldier can admire the tactics of a 1930s general while being fully prepared to sink a PLA transport ship in the Taiwan Strait tomorrow. Humans are capable of holding complex identities.
How to Fix the Military Training Curriculum
The MND needs to stop being defensive about this. They should lean into the complexity. If I were running the political warfare department, I'd change the approach immediately.
- Contextualize the films. Don't just hit play. Run a seminar afterward. Compare the urban warfare in Shanghai 1937 to the potential urban warfare in a modern invasion scenario. Make it practical.
- Diversify the media. Show films about the ROC Air Force’s defense of Taiwan in the 1950s. Show documentaries about the evolution of the volunteer force.
- Acknowledge the flag. The flag the soldiers died for in 1937 is the same flag on the uniforms of Taiwan’s soldiers today. That’s the most powerful link you have. Use it.
- Invite civilian critics. Stop keeping the military in a bubble. Bring in historians who have different views on the "Whampoa Spirit." Debate it. An army that can handle a debate can handle a war.
The goal isn't to make soldiers feel like they are "Chinese" in the PRC sense. The goal is to make them feel like they are part of a long, unbroken line of defenders who refuse to give up. Whether that’s in a warehouse in Shanghai or a beach in Taoyuan doesn't change the nature of the duty.
Stop worrying about whether the film is "too Chinese." Start worrying about whether the message is "too defeatist." If the movie inspires a captain to better lead his men, it’s a good movie. If it makes him feel like he’s fighting for a ghost, it’s a failure. The choice depends on the leadership, not the film itself.
Don't let the debate over a movie distract from the actual hardware and training needed to keep the island safe. History is a tool. Use it to sharpen the blade, not to argue about the whetstone.
