As soon as you drive into the town of Houchin, near Kaohsiung in southern Taiwan, you see that the trees and telephone poles along the way are plastered with signs saying "Fight Wu-ch'ing [naphtha five] and Save Houchin," "If They Break Ground, We Break Heads" and similar slogans opposing construction of a fifth naphtha cracking plant planned by China Petroleum Corporation. The quiet afternoon streets seem laden with an atmosphere of imminent war.

It has been nearly three years since the people of Houchin initiated a campaign against the plant. The two sides have been at loggerheads for over 1,000 days, but the causes have been brewing for forty years.

The present site of China Petroleum's complex at Houchin was a naval refinery during the Japanese occupation. After retrocession of the island to China in 1945, the government took it over, renovated it and expanded it into China Petroleum's main refinery. Refining entails a great deal of pollution, but the supply of petrochemical materials is vital for developing the economy and improving the life of the citizenry, so production and growth were constantly increased.

Today the site encompasses more than sixty refineries producing a wide range of fuels along with two upstream naphtha plants and some mid- and downstream facilities. Most eye-catching are the hundred-some smokestacks that spout flames day and night, as the facilities are operated round-the-clock to advance the economic growth of Taiwan.

The people who live around this tireless, toiling complex arrived even earlier. Houchin was a village during the Ming dynasty (1368 to 1644), one of the first areas of Kaohsiung to be settled, and is now home to more than 10,000 people and 3,000 households.

Local environmental disputes in Taiwan have generally been of two types: in one, citizens protest against pollution by an existing factory, and in the other they oppose the construction of a factory they believe will cause it. Although Houchin's fight against naphtha cracker number five ranks in the latter category, their quarrel with China Petroleum belongs to the former.

When the people of Houchin took to the streets in protest a few years ago, many of them said, "If we'd realized we could have done this before, we'd have marched a long time ago. . . ." because in Houchin, noise, stench and contaminated water are daily facts of life.

"People who pass through Kao-hsiung and see the flares of China Petroleum at night may describe them as flames of pride driving Taiwan's economic growth, but for us they're flames of pain," says Houchin resident Li San-chung.

Decades-long pollution of their living area long ago caused the hearts of the people of Houchin to fester with anger and resentment, and an exacerbating factor has been China Petroleum's corporate culture.

During the forty years that it has been there, China Petroleum has built for itself a walled-off bastion with a golf course, swimming pools, recreational facilities, well-designed housing, and attached school, becoming a high-level community completely separated from the outside world. Many local residents share a common childhood memory of being caught sneaking over the fence to swim in the pool and being sent back home with their shirts off in punishment.

The fight is not just about pollution--what Dr. Kao Cheng-shu, chairman of the Graduate Institute of Sociology at Tunghai University, means when he says the environmental aspects of the dispute cannot be viewed apart from social, economic, cultural and historical factors.

This pent-up anger and resentment finally exploded on June 12, 1987, when China Petroleum announced that it was going to replace its number one and two naphtha crackers, which it said had been obsolete for a long time, with a fifth naphtha cracker to supply raw materials to the mid- and downstream petrochemical industries.

It came just at a time when the whole island was being swept by environmental fervor, and "the people of Houchin were aroused by the outcry," Dr. Kao points out. That China Petroleum wanted to expand facilities and increase production rather than improve the environment gave people the cause they had been looking for. Ever since then, the protest movement against China Petroleum has been directed against the construction of a fifth naphtha cracker, but what really made the residents unhappy in the first place was the pollution of the past and the company's overbearing ways. Number five was just the spark that touched off the fuse.

Everyone had different views on how to proceed. Some leaders, advocating moderation, called on neighborhood heads to collect suggestions and forward them to the company, but others, with political ambitions of their own, incited the public to pursue extreme tactics, resulting in certain uncalled-for incidents and the beating of a number of employees. The movement was then criticized by several members of the Legislative Yuan, who said it was being used for ulterior purposes. Despite the varying tactics, the residents have been united in their opposition to the plant and have stuck to a strategy of three no's: no negotiations, no compromise, and no demands for compensation.

On its side, China Petroleum has tried to quell the furor by expanding communication with the neighboring community, by supplementing local welfare and by promoting pollution control, toward which they have spent NT$40 billion to date, but their efforts seem largely to have come too late. Although many environmental specialists point to great improvements, the problems of smoke emission, stench and contaminated water are not amenable to swift solution.

So when residents are told that the company has really improved in the past few years, their immediate reply is: "You're welcome to come and try living here for a while."

The corporation interacted too little with the local populace in the past, closing its gates and keeping to itself. Now it can no longer overlook the feelings of the residents outside. That is why many scholars suggest that social impact assessments should be prepared for major construction projects along with environmental impact assessments.

Both sides seem to have learned something during the course of the dispute. China Petroleum has had to admit that the residents' protest has indeed caused it to quicken the pace of its pollution control efforts. "Even if it's finally decided not to build number five, pollution control is indispensable. We can't go back," says plant manager P'ei Po-yu.

As for the residents, "the form of the struggle seems to have evolved from a mere demand for compensation into a more mature social movement," Dr. Kao concludes.

No matter what the outcome may be, the dispute seems to have done something positive for both the company and the community.

[Picture Caption]

China Petroleum Corporation has been an engine driving Taiwan's economic growth but has also created some of the worst pollution.

Signs posted along the streets of Houchin show the determination of the residents to fight construction of the number five naphtha cracker.

A farmer works diligently in a field just a wall's width away from the company's complex, but he won't eat the crops.

After the movement against its fifth naphtha plant gained steam, China Petroleum had running water installed to the neighboring communities, but some people felt that its good-neighbor policy was a bit late in coming.

China Petroleum has stepped up its pollution control over the past couple of years. At left is an air quality testing station set up by the company, and at right is a sound barrier.

Members of the Consumers' Foundation examined the underground water outside the complex for contamination by waste petroleum.

Open-air waste water treatment pools can release harmful elements of their own, creating a second form of pollution.

Born and raised in Houchin, Liu Yung-ling has changed the name of his store to the Anti-Fifth Cracker Clothiers and made the local environment a lifelong cause.

Houchin Stream irrigates more than 100 hectares of farmland, a town resident says, pointing toward its murky waters.

Houchin residents have gone to Taipei many times to petition for their cause, in hopes that the cracker will not be built.

Signs posted along the streets of Houchin show the determination of the residents to fight construction of the number five naphtha cracker.

A farmer works diligently in a field just a wall's width away from the company's complex, but he won't eat the crops.

After the movement against its fifth naphtha plant gained steam, China Petroleum had running water installed to the neighboring communities, but some people felt that its good-neighbor policy was a bit late in coming.

China Petroleum has stepped up its pollution control over the past couple of years. At left is an air quality testing station set up by the company, and at right is a sound barrier.

Members of the Consumers' Foundation examined the underground water outside the complex for contamination by waste petroleum.

Open-air waste water treatment pools can release harmful elements of their own, creating a second form of pollution.

Born and raised in Houchin, Liu Yung-ling has changed the name of his store to the Anti-Fifth Cracker Clothiers and made the local environment a lifelong cause.

Houchin Stream irrigates more than 100 hectares of farmland, a town resident says, pointing toward its murky waters.

Houchin residents have gone to Taipei many times to petition for their cause, in hopes that the cracker will not be built.