Book Review: The Nameless People – Taiwan’s Pingpu Peoples

“The Nameless People“ is a collection of stories about contemporary youth from the Pingpu Peoples (the indigenous people of Taiwan’s plains), recounting their journey to rediscover their identity—beginning with stories of being “nameless.”

Cover of the book《The Nameless People》. Image sourced from eslit.com.

However, to truly understand this group, we must first start by discussing the “Indigenous Peoples” of Taiwan, a group who have lived on this land but have been repeatedly “categorized” and silenced throughout history.

In recent years, numerous studies on Taiwan’s history have pointed out that during the rules of the Koxinga (Zheng Chenggong) regime and the Qing Empire, governance primarily only covered western Taiwan. The Han Chinese settlers who came to the land often overlapped with the territories of the Pingpu Peoples, forcing the indigenous groups to either relocate or cohabit with the Han Chinese settlers.

During the Japanese colonial period, the government conducted surveys to support imperial control, leading to the first “classification” of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples. Those who had assimilated with Han culture were labeled “civilized barbarians” or “islanders,” while those practicing traditional customs, with distinct languages and cultures, were classified as “uncivilized barbarians.” The latter were deemed “lacking personhood” and thus required special management due to their differences.

After World War II, during the Chinese Nationalist (KMT) regime, a survey from 1956 revealed that 27,009 people still identified as Pingpu Peoples. However, by 1959, the Pingpu People classification was omitted, and those identified were instead registered as “Plains Mountain Compatriots,” grouping all indigenous peoples together and causing the Pingpu identity to become “invisible.”

Under the classification system introduced during the Japanese regime, “uncivilized barbarians” were also considered as “Mountain Compatriots” (mountain-dwelling Indigenous peoples). In 1997, the term “indigenous people” was officially incorporated into Taiwan’s constitution, and by 1997, the collective rights of “Indigenous Peoples” were recognized, resulting in the 16 officially recognized Indigenous groups: amis (pangcah), atayal, paiwan, Bunun, Pinuyumayan, Rukai (Ngudradrekai), Tsou, Saisiyat, tao, Thau, Kavalan, Truku, Sakizaya, Seediq (Sediq/Sejiq), Hla’alua, and Kanakanavu, marking the second classification of the indigenous peoples.

“The term ‘Indigenous Peoples’ has been imbued with a sacred aura. Yet, when we utter it, we risk desecrating its meaning; only those chosen by the Japanese colonial government are deemed worthy to embrace it. But who gets to decide who receives redemption? The Council of Indigenous Peoples has the final say.” (Li Jianlin, Mixed Blood Cocktail, The Nameless People, P324)

During the Japanese regime, Taiwan’s “Indigenous Peoples” were divided into “uncivilized barbarians” and “civilized barbarians.” Following World War II, the KMT referred to them as “Mountain Compatriots,” eventually leading to the terms “Indigenous Peoples” and “Indigenous Nations.” Meanwhile, the Pingpu People’s history of cohabitation, migration, and assimilation caused them to gradually fade into the background, becoming a group of “nameless people” lost in the tides of history.

As a result, a group of young people began to question their identities: What does it mean to be Indigenous? What defines the Pingpu community? Why are we nameless? These are the main questions posed in the first part of The Nameless People, titled “The Magical Stage of the Hengchun Peninsula.” The second part, “Tales of a Collective: Twenty Journeys,” explores rituals, memory, emotions, and culture, depicting a journey from “discovery to chaos, struggle to identity” throughout Taiwan. The third part, “The Farthest Road,” features the protagonists pondering the path of the Pingpu youth, facing uncertainty and complexity.

The Nameless People seeks to portray the contemporary Pingpu community through the lens of personal identity exploration, engaging with discussions surrounding ethnic boundaries in modern Taiwan. In 2024, issues of ethnic recognition and its classification persist. The Pazeh people, having faced setbacks in the recognition process, have been focusing on language and cultural preservation, and finally submitted their ethnic recognition application to the Indigenous Peoples Commission in May 2024. Similarly, the Taokas and Taivoan groups are also submitting their recognition application. The latter collected over 400 applications, hoping to have the group officially recognized first before verifying each individual. The youth of Makatau/makata’o’ are visiting tribes, building consensus and gathering signatures in hopes of submitting an application for group recognition in the future. Meanwhile, consultation meetings on the official recognition of the Pingpu Peoples’ names are being held across various locations, marking the third classification of Taiwan’s Indigenous Peoples in history.

“Every tribe in this era should be able to live in its most beautiful way,” a senior advocate for Pazeh recognition once shared with me. Like many indigenous peoples elsewhere, Taiwan’s pursuit of ethnic recognition has faced challenges from cultural changes and language decline. However, culture is inherently neutral, even more so is identity. The real issue is the inability to be one’s true self.

What should the essence of culture be? When a nation’s ethnic recognition process raises the question of whether culture is “traditional,” how should Indigenous peoples (including the Pingpu) navigate the evolving dynamics of their cultural heritage?

“Culture represents a community’s way of life; it has no fixed form and is not strictly about being traditional. It evolves with time and societal changes. What matters most is that the core ‘values’ of culture are preserved and will be passed down through generations. These values are what we should seek to understand and protect.” As time changes, the concept of indigeneity, covering culture and tradition, shifts from being associated with “savagery, poverty, and underdevelopment” to “tradition and sacredness.”

Indigenous identities often contrast with non-Indigenous (Han) perceptions, which can become linked to “greed, pollution, and aggression.” The Pingpu People are navigating a complex spectrum to find their identity. They aim to challenge existing ethnic frameworks and be incorporated into the legal classifications of Indigenous peoples. This process involves both addressing “ethnicism” within each tribe and external cultural perceptions. While this could broaden the essence of “indigeneity,” it also presents ongoing challenges for Indigenous communities.

“A person’s experience is a life story, but the experiences of many become history.” (The Nameless People, p. 389) The vivid stories of Pingpu youth in the book compel readers to confront the history of Taiwan’s Indigenous peoples and the cultural transformations embedded in that context. From another perspective, helping the “nameless people” find their “name” highlights the importance of self-recognition. Taiwanese society must recognize that this is the essence of freedom, allowing individuals to find their place and respect one another. Ultimately, may everyone living on this land find a home for themselves.

“tjara izua a tjavuvu a nasi itjanuitjen.” (Paiwan: The breath of the elders is always with us.)

(Featured photo by Klub Boks on Pexels)