Cross-straits residents believe peace and friendly discourse are the best way forward to avoid conflict.
By Isa He in Tokyo and Xiamen
Born in Taiwan and raised in Mainland China, Raco Cao* is caught in between, as tension grows in the cross-straits relations.
“My home might be bombed. My flat might be flattened. Now, I have a home in Taiwan and another in Xiamen. But if a war breaks out, I will be homeless,” the university student studying in Xiamen, says.
“If I return to Taiwan, I must join the conscription. Soldiers must follow orders. I do not have any choice. Or else I could be sentenced up to five years in prison, and may also be restricted from leaving the country, wanted for arrest, and have a criminal record,” Cao says.
“In case of war, I won’t do anything heroic. I might be the first to run away from the battlefield or move to another country, because I’m not a brave person,” the 21-year-old student adds.
His family shares his worries and concerns. “An uncle has warned me to move to another country to avoid being conscripted in Taiwan, as my family thinks survival matters more than politics,” Cao says.
“My family is just being very pessimistic, and I agree. It means I cannot stay in Taichung, my birthplace, or in Xiamen, where I grew up. That means I have nowhere to go,” he says with a wry smile.
Cao believes that engaging in sincere dialogue and candid exchange is the way out. “Many in Taiwan are sceptical about China. But what the media presents is often a one-sided picture. After living in Xiamen, I think people here are actually very kind. If there were more opportunities for exchange, fear would subside,” he says.
Citing Kinmen as an example, Cao believes it is the key point for people from both sides to learn and get to know each other.
“Under the mini-three link policy, Kinmen has become a contact point of communication. Now, it’s just a half-hour boat ride from Kinmen to Xiamen. Once people visit each other and interact, they realize we are not so different. What we really need is not political ideology, but to live well in peace,” he says.
In 2001, Taiwan introduced the mini-three links policy, which allowed direct trade, transport, and postal connections between Taiwan’s offshore islets of Matsu and Kinmen and the mainland cities of Xiamen, Quanzhou, and Fuzhou. It resumed in early 2023 after both sides lifted Covid-19 restrictions, allowing Taiwanese residents, their mainland spouses and children, and mainland Chinese students studying in Taiwan to use ferry services.
Cao’s close friend, Lin Su*, a Mainland Chinese, shares his fear and worries.
“I surely feel worried if my friend has to join the army. He is not physically fit, and war is cruel. I fear that something terrible might happen to him,” the 20-year-old Xiamen native says.
She admits that if a war were to break out, she would hope Cao could stay away from fighting.
“I’d try to persuade him not to participate or even persuade him to take the Mainland side—after all, that’s where he’s lived most of his life,” she says.
Growing up in Xiamen, Lin says that most locals treat the talk of war as distant and unrealistic.
“People discuss it, but no one really thinks it will happen. My family sometimes talks about it, but we don’t stock up on food or anything. It feels like something that exists only in the news,” she says.
Lin also finds online discussion about Taiwan is quite far from the truth from her own experience.
“On social media platforms, people are calling for war, but in reality, most people are calm. The internet only amplifies the loudest voices,” she says.
At Xiamen University, Lin is currently enrolled in a course offered by the Graduate Institute for Taiwan Studies, one of the few tertiary institutions that offers such kinds of programme in Mainland China.
“We have classes on Taiwan’s politics, culture, and daily life. My course is about Taiwan’s social life—it covers politics, history, and even food. There are also several professors from Taiwan teaching in this programme,” the Year Three student says.
“Most of my classmates had little knowledge of Taiwan’s politics or history before taking this course. But after attending the lectures and discussions, they have become more aware of the complexity of cross-strait relations and differences between life in Taiwan and what they used to think of the island. Some even want to visit Taiwan so that they can have more exchanges with young people there,” Lin adds.
She believes this proximity—both geographical and academic—makes Xiamen a unique bridge between the two sides. “Because we’re so close, we can study and understand Taiwan better. It’s much easier to do real research in Fujian than any other province in China,” she says.
“I just hope there won’t be a war. Peace is the best—and maybe one day I hope I can finally visit Taiwan as a tourist,” she says.
On the other side of the strait, Wang Ling*, who was born in Kinmen and grew up with memories of war, also shared their call for peace.
“War brings no winners. It only means casualties on both sides. I hope leaders show care for the lives of ordinary people so that tragedy will not be repeated. Whether in Kinmen or Xiamen, no one wants to hear the sound of artillery again,” Wang, a tour guide who also runs a business that curates exhibitions and conducts projects to preserve Kinmen’s heritage and history, says.
Born in 1985, Wang recalls that houses, ancestral halls, and even temples were once occupied for military use in Kinmen.
“The troops did not have barracks, so they slept at villagers’ homes. Ancestral halls and temples were turned into offices and logistics rooms. Some altars were removed to make space,” she says, adding that no compensation was offered to residents affected by those arrangements.
Wang says stories of artillery have been shared for generations in families. After 1949, Kinmen became a heavily militarized area. In 1958, during the Second Taiwan Strait Crisis, known locally as the “823 Artillery Bombardment”, the People’s Liberation Army of China fired nearly half a million shells over 44 days, and occasional shelling continued until 1979. Martial law was not lifted until 1992.
“But a lot of Kinmen people now think conflict will not happen again, because more than two decades of direct links with Xiamen have made the two sides understand each other more,” she says.
“The economy here depends on tourism. If there were fighting, the tourism industry would suffer badly. That is something no one wants to see,” she adds.
Wang believes people from both sides want mutual understanding rather than confrontation. “Distance once made the other side seem so distant. Now, people can meet and trade. Communication is the key to avoiding conflict,” she says.
*Names changed at interviewees’ request
(Photo courtesy of Lin Su*)
Edited by Myo Min Htin
Sub-edited by Daniel Paek
