Sitting by the side of "Drunken Moon Lake," deep in the National Taiwan University campus, if you look at the building next door, shaded by large trees, it looks mildly decrepit and forbiddingly dark. This is the mathematics building, where a group of scholars launched a tide of educational reform that is still sending shock waves through society.

Taiwan's education policy over the last decade or so-from criticism of the old system to reform ideas to policy formulation to implementation-has a deep imprint from the Department of Mathematics at NTU.

Going all the way back, Shih Ying founded the "Humanistic Education Foundation" after his own children met with frustration in the then-existing system. Because he was strictly opposed to corporal punishment in schools and insisted on making the child the focus of education, he often got into fierce arguments with teachers and principals. In 1994 the "April 10 Education Reform Alliance" put forward four main demands, seeking a vast increase in the number of high schools and universities, small class sizes, educational modernization, and passage of an Education Basic Law. Tens of thousands of people joined the demonstration that day, and Huang Wu-hsiung, who organized the Alliance, is still seen today as one of the spiritual leaders of education reform in Taiwan.

When a consensus had been created in society to slay the joint entrance exam beast, the College Entrance Examination Center, created to promote reform of the university admissions system, drafted Mathematics Department prof Tsao Liang-chi to be its vice chairman. He has since had a profound influence on the direction and form of questions now asked on standardized tests.

More recently, retired NTU math profs Huang Min-huang and Chu Chien-cheng participated in producing new mathematics textbooks. Among the new approaches introduced, structural mathematics has created quite a controversy.

NTU-ites have passed the torch from one to the next, working together to create democracy in Taiwan. Since the opposition won the 2000 presidential election, the heavy responsibility of ruling the country has been largely on the shoulders of people associated with Taida. (photo by Diago Chiu)

A liberal tradition

How is it that math professors at Taida have played such an important role in education reform? "Persons who have received specialized training in mathematics are more likely to question authority. Most mathematicians have this tendency," is Huang Wu-hsiung's answer.

Huang, who stepped back from the public spotlight after being diagnosed with liver cancer nine years ago, has been deeply worried of late over the problems and conflicts arising over education reform. Sketching out the differences in Taiwan's current educational environment compared to ten years ago, Huang admits that competitive pressures remain very high, but says that the atmosphere in society is more open than it was a decade ago and not so stressful. Of the four demands made back then by the April 10 Alliance, the one for creation of more high schools and universities has aroused the most controversy, with many people now saying that university quality has declined as a result.

"The problem is that the government has not invested even more resources in the establishment of universities. Former minister of education Wu Ching talked about opening up a so-called second channel for tertiary education, but that just meant redefining existing low-quality junior colleges as universities," says Huang. In Taiwan, resources that might go into education are instead captured by agencies for national defense or economic affairs. If this money could be used in education, many of the problems facing higher education could be resolved. Not only could National Taiwan University, Tsing Hua University, and Chiaotung University all have a shot at becoming international-level institutions, the quality of other universities could also be raised.

Huang and the many other education reform advocates at NTU hope that knowledge will not be the preserve of a small group of naturally gifted elitists who have managed to squeeze through a rigorous advancement system. Five years ago, they advocated the establishment of community colleges, to both liberate knowledge and encourage the development of civil society. They hope that through this open space where the broad public can participate and learn, they can achieve the ideal of a public forum. Community colleges have in fact blossomed in all corners of Taiwan, setting a pattern of lifelong education; there are now 71 such schools around the island.

The untamed energy of youth finds room to run on the spacious NTU campus.

Better to go down fighting

Huang Wu-hsiung has become an insistent promoter of education policy because he deeply believes that scholars must leave the ivory tower and struggle on behalf of social justice and the welfare of the people. Indeed, there is a tradition at Taida of "speaking truth to power." This tradition can be traced back to the philosopher Yin Hai-kuang, who brought liberal ideas into Taiwan in the 1950s.

Yin Hai-kuang, a graduate of the Department of Philosophy at Southwestern United University and of the graduate school of philosophy at Tsing Hua University, came to Taiwan in 1949 and began teaching at NTU. When Lei Chen founded the liberal magazine Free China Fortnightly in 1949, Yin became a featured writer there. Adhering to a spirit of "better to die fighting than live in silence," he courageously wrote critically about current events, and was eventually put under a long term of house arrest by the Kuomintang.

Isolated from society, Yin tried to use his scholarly pen to restore conscience to that era. In 1958, Free China was closed down and the KMT forced Yin to leave NTU. This was the highest-impact case of academic repression of its time. In 1967 Yin was diagnosed with cancer, and he died in 1969, only 50 years old.

Yin Hai-kuang has been called "except for Hu Shih, the most influential intellectual in Taiwan since the May Fourth Movement." He wrote for Free China for many years and produced numerous articles on political subjects. He wrote in a clear, incisive style, and had a lasting effect that reached down to many of the most famous academics and political commentators of the 1970s and 1980s. Leading intellectuals like Lin Yu-sheng, Yang Kuo-shu, and Chen Ku-ying were among the many who studied directly under Yin at NTU.

A profound atmosphere of ideas, embracing thinkers past and present, is revealed in every corner of National Taiwan University's campus.

Voice in the wilderness

Taiwan's academic community held a special conference in 1999 on the 30th anniversary of Yin's death. Chiu Hei-yuan, who formerly taught sociology at NTU and now is a researcher in the Institute of Sociology at the Academia Sinica, points out that Yin's arrest and silencing in fact attracted little attention in society, because that was the period in which authoritarian rule was at its most effective.

"Yin Hai-kuang was not a very active leader in society or even in any intellectual movement. He was just one scholar who was relatively influential among a small group of campus intellectuals," says Chiu Hei-yuan. Yet, though few people came into contact with Yin personally, he still planted many seeds for the future, playing gardener to an immature liberalism and empiricism which would in the future blossom into powerful forces for reform.

Before the 1970s, Taida was the most respected and admired academic bastion in Taiwan. You can imagine the anxiety with which the authorities looked on this heavyweight circle of intellectuals. Although school president Chien Ssu-liang, who succeeded Fu Ssu-nien, lobbied heavily at the highest political levels for 19 years in hopes of getting political interference out of the campus, one scholar could only do so much. After the Yin Hai-kuang affair, then came the firing of 13 professors from the Department of Philosophy.

Thirty years ago, when martial was still in effect, the heavy hand of political authority held Taida in a tight grip. But the NTU spirit of never compromising was not extinguished. Li Ao, a graduate of the Department of History at NTU, widely extolled Yin's nature of "having the courage to recognize what was happening and the courage to fight." From the appearance of his magazine Wen Hsing in the 1960s to the confiscation and banning of his self-published books, Li was arrested repeatedly for "inappropriate speech." But his pen remained as sharp as ever, despite his prison time. Over the decades, he has torn the cover off countless scandals and political hypocrisy. You could say that he is a major-league "whistle-blower" symbolizing the spirit of Taida.

Learning from the West

In contrast to its stifled politics, Taiwan's economy took off. Perhaps because of the dangers of politics, business and technology attracted many of Taida's best and brightest.

In the 1970s and 1980s, the dominant value at NTU was "come to Taida, then go to America." Unexpectedly, this tide of thinking that you could learn more in the West and the emphasis on pursuing personal careers became the greatest asset of NTU-ites as they later returned home in large numbers to do something for their homeland, turning Taiwan into a "technology island."

Robert Tsao, the chairman of United Microelectronics, and a graduate of the Department of Electrical Engineering at NTU, wrote in the alumni magazine that when he was still in university, then-minister of economic affairs Chao Yao-tung gave a lecture at Taida in which he vented his spleen at the fact that all the school's grads were going overseas, without contributing a thing to the country. Tsao found himself in agreement with Chao: "I felt very uneasy about that kind of life, and felt that leaving Taiwan would be a dead end. In those days my best friends all treated leaving Taiwan as if it were the only possible choice, but I had no interest in going abroad, so I felt really out of place given the trends of that time."

Robert Tsao did not follow the crowd, but went to graduate school in management at Chiaotung University, then joined the Industrial Technology Research Institute. He then sought out the opportunity to become the vice general manager at United Microelectronics, a company which few people thought much of back then. Later he became chairman, and over the course of a decade semiconductor production has moved from being an "out-in-the-cold" field to being the engine powering economic growth in Taiwan.

"At one point I did a count and found that of the 50 or 60 firms in the Hsinchu Science-Based Industrial Park, more than half were led by Taida grads," says Tsao. In his view, Taida has a liberal orientation, and the people it produces are both capable and open-minded. They don't exclude novel ideas or opinions and they have good characters, making them suited for management positions. But they are not so good at working in groups, because NTU-ites are intensely competitive and independent by nature, and not so skilled at interpersonal relations, so they aren't able to take advantage of "strength in numbers."

There are no precise statistics about how many of the leading figures in high-tech corporations in Taiwan's various science-based industrial parks are Taida graduates. But even a cursory glance at the most famous companies shows that many are headed by engineering graduates from NTU. Every year these companies generate trillions of dollars of production value for Taiwan. Moreover, these alumni donate large sums to their alma mater, which is a main factor allowing Taida to keep its leading position.

Even in this age of the high-tech information explosion, the relationship between students and faculty at NTU offers a humanistic style that continues to attract people to the school.

Angry youth

Graduates of NTU's departments of science and technology have made a critical contribution to Taiwan's evolution into a high-tech island. Not to be left behind, graduates of the departments of law and politics have also made their mark.

During the ROC presidential election in 1990, when Taiwan was still in the period of uncertainty of the early "post Chiang Ching-kuo era," there was an intense power struggle going on at the highest levels of the Kuomintang between the so-called "mainstream" and "non-mainstream" factions. In March, at the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall, the largest and longest-running student demonstration in Taiwanese history occurred.

This "Wild Lily" student movement, as it was dubbed, was first launched by Taida students, later linking up with other schools. Students went on hunger strikes and conducted sit-in protests, demanding dissolution of the parliament, elimination of the "temporary provisions" of the Constitution, the convening of a national affairs conference, and the setting of a timetable for political and economic reform. After a week, 50 student representatives met with President Lee Teng-hui, and got a commitment from him on these points. They then released "Our Manifesto-Never tire in pursuit of democracy," thereby crystallizing their movement in a powerful document.

Many of the leaders in the student movement in those days have pursued political careers since graduation. Among the most famous are Luo Wen-chia and Ma Yung-cheng, both graduates of the NTU Department of Political Science. They first became assistants to current president Chen Shui-bian, who was then a legislator, helping him to uncover scandals and paving the road for his political future. These tactical commanders of the political wars of those days have today become important advisors within the halls of government. Many other figures, including legislators, appointed government officials, and heads of bureaus at the local government level, also came out of the student movement. They have become the successors to leadership positions in political parties, government, and academia.

The sun gleams over the campus of National Taiwan University. What's the forecast for the future of this venerable institution?

A special responsibility

As the student movement generation began to make its mark felt in politics, the Democratic Progressive Party won power for the first time. Lacking a reserve of experienced public officials, the DPP naturally turned to academia, and of course the professors at NTU were at the front of the line. Many profs suddenly found themselves at the crossroads between the ivory tower and practical politics, forcing them to make some hard choices.

Lin Wan-i, a professor of sociology at Taida, states that in comparison with Europe or North America, Taiwan has been relatively late in the interaction of government and academia. It's only been in the last ten years that there has been any formal contractual relationship. At first when Taida professors were "borrowed" by government agencies, those involved had no idea what commitments they still owed to their schools. Only later did the academic affairs authorities at NTU address this question, deciding on a set of norms. Beginning in 2000 the range of "borrowing institutions" was expanded to include think tanks, private enterprises, foundations, and so on. The system has gradually become more comprehensive and refined, so that the "golden brains" of the nation's top school can now be tapped more often by various sectors of society.

Lin, who became deputy executive of Taipei County in 1999, compares academia with official life: A scholar's life has a fixed rhythm, and its boundaries are quite clear. He or she teaches, supervises graduate students, does research, and writes papers and books. This allows a quite high degree of autonomy, but also makes it difficult to see who is doing well and who is not, and even those not very fond of doing research can find a place for themselves in academia.

But government requires collective action. You have to be responsive to elected officials, you have to know how to navigate through assemblies, and you have to face the voters and deal with popular protests and petitions, not to mention the pressure from media commentators. Even if you have some area of expertise, if you do not get support from your superiors, subordinates, elected officials, and commentators, it is difficult to bring your talents to bear.

Thinking back on his career as a local official, Lin says that as the representative of the county executive and spokesperson for the county government, he was tied down by countless details and small tasks. He would often be awakened by phone calls in the middle of the night-having just got to sleep after yet another busy day. His life, previously lived amidst books and with quiet time for contemplation, was now continually interrupted by odds and ends.

"Back then I resolved not to stay in public life for too long," he reveals. He served three years in office, some of which was bitter, some sweet. The bitter included being insulted by county assemblymen. The sweet included having command of considerable resources, with most of Taipei County's NT$60 billion budget being under his control. At a sweep he could determine the long-term development of the county in areas such as infrastructure, education, and culture.

In March of 1990, 5000 impassioned students gathered on the plaza at the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall to demand the convening of a national affairs conference and other reforms. This "Wild Lily" student movement, sparked by students at Taida, had a profound impact on democratic reform in Taiwan. (photo by Vincent Chang)

Balancing act

Looking at the political scene today, there is certainly no shortage of people who are both academics and officials, and many who weave back and forth between the two. Is it the case that the traditional Chinese idea that "the outstanding scholar becomes an official" has already begun to cast a sweeping shadow over the academic community?

Yang Kuo-shu, concurrently a professor of psychology at NTU and also a member of the Academia Sinica, addressed this question in an article entitled "The Dilemma Facing Taiwan Intellectuals and Its Transcendence." Because the government needs talented people, many people from outside political circles are "captured" into government. They thereby find themselves sharing the fate of Chinese scholars for millennia, i.e. "the outstanding scholar becomes an official." There are even those who covet office for its own sake, without any ideals or approaches for governing the country in mind. This is a major problem faced by Taiwanese intellectuals today.

"From a modern, pluralized perspective, the feudal idea that 'the outstanding scholar becomes an official' should not be practiced today. In other words, it's not that scholars can't participate in politics at all, but that you shouldn't get the impression that every name on a list of government ministers is from academia, or that whenever there's a cabinet reshuffle all you get is a new group of scholars," says Hsia Chu-joe, a professor in the Graduate Institute of Building and Planning at NTU. Intellectuals should be provocative and free-spirited. But policy makers have to be cautious and diplomatic, and cannot be too emotional, and most of all cannot bring their personal ideology into it. The two roles are different by nature, so if the individual is not able to adjust well, the outcome could be a disaster.

Given Taiwan's current political environment, in which the opposition party controls the legislature, is it really effective for the government to bring so many NTU scholars into government? Can they do something more for the government than just give it a reputation for hiring learned people? On the other side of the equation, can government service really help scholars make better contributions to their fields after they return to academic life?

Lin Wan-i says that his journey between academia and government has been a positive experience. Because he comes from Taida, bureaucrats and elected officials showed great respect for his expertise in areas such as dealing with disadvantaged groups, helping high-school dropouts, and selection of school principals. Even now that he is out of office, his policies continue.

"Now when I teach, write, or do research, the results are definitely richer and more mature than if I were just rehashing theory. I can use Taiwan as a case study to test Western concepts," says Lin. He emphasizes that besides personal ability, the most important thing for turning one's official experience into academic research is to not stay away from academia for too long, otherwise it is difficult to "pick up" your professional field again.

"If the government 'borrows' scholars, Taida is the real winner," says Lin, arguing that the presence of scholars in politics raises the school's reputation and gives people the sense that it enjoys access to the centers of power. It's just that Taida has always been known for exactly the opposite-that its thinkers remain unsullied by and aloof from day-to-day politics. When professors leave for government posts or when they return, NTU makes no official comment, unlike some private universities that consider it a real honor.

In March of 1990, 5000 impassioned students gathered on the plaza at the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall to demand the convening of a national affairs conference and other reforms. This "Wild Lily" student movement, sparked by students at Taida, had a profound impact on democratic reform in Taiwan. (photo by Vincent Chang)

Wanted: New heroes for the future

NTU's impressive influence has continued for half a century and remains as robust as ever. As Lin Ku-fang-chairman of the Institute of Fine Arts at Fokuang University's College of Humanities and himself a Taida grad (in archeology)-reminds us, "The importance of National Taiwan University is not in that today it still has the highest average test scores among incoming freshmen of any school in the country, nor that it enjoys political influence and gets huge amounts of money from the government. Rather, you can only properly evaluate its critical role in Taiwan by looking at the whole sweep of its history."

There will always be new talent in each generation, but in Taiwan the new talent is invariably mainly from NTU. For half a century, waves of intellectual fashion and new ideas have crashed against this small island. The earliest waves smashed down many prohibitions and taboos, though already those days are being forgotten. Now that Taida has survived the age of martial law, of struggling through stormy times to plant seeds for the future, and through the age of the student movement, when time and circumstance made people into heroes, it is flourishing more than ever.

But at the same time the views of NTU-ites are now all going off in different directions. On the eve of the school's 75th anniversary, beyond its respected and pampered status, NTU faces an important test as the nation's top academic institution: Can it carry on the school's liberal traditions, train talented people, and pioneer a new future for the nation?

NTU scholars have always gone their own way in the long halls of academe. How far and deep they can go will determine the future at Taida.