Green Island Prison: Layered Memories from a Political Black Jail to the Hometown of Big Brothers

Thirty-Second Overview: Green Island, an Isolated Island Layered with Memory

Green Island, a seemingly scenic isolated island in the Pacific, carries multiple layers of memory deep within its history. It was not only the "Fire-Burning Island" of political prisoners during the White Terror¹, but also the "hometown" of underworld bosses, colloquially known in Taiwan as da-ge, or "big brothers"². From political prisoners building, with their own hands, the walls that would confine them³, to washing clothes and passing messages at Liumagou⁴; from the selfless service of the "strongest infirmary"⁵ to the artistic redemption of the "violin of hope"⁶; from the nameless graves of the "Thirteenth Squadron" cemetery⁷ to the contempt contained in Shih Ming-teh’s single word, "joke"⁸, the story of Green Island Prison is one of the most complex microcosms of how Taiwanese society has confronted authoritarianism, freedom, and the transformation of memory.

Prologue: Whispers in the Sea Wind: Green Island and the Layering of Memory

The sea wind brushes lightly across Green Island’s reefs, carrying a briny dampness and whispering the secrets buried deep within the island. On May 17, 1951, the first group of political prisoners was sent to this isolated island. What awaited them was not a ready-made prison, but desolate land. They were ordered to quarry and haul stones by the shore, using coral reef rock with their own hands to build the walls and barracks that would imprison them³. It was an absurd beginning, and also the overture to the story of Green Island Prison. The "New Life Correction Center" of that era has today become the "White Terror Green Island Memorial Park"¹, while on the other side, "Chongde New Village" held serious offenders from across Taiwan and was jokingly called the "hometown of big brothers"². How many different memories does this island, in fact, bear?

📝 Curator’s Note: The history of Green Island Prison is one of the most complex microcosms of how Taiwanese society has confronted authoritarianism, freedom, and the transformation of memory. Through concrete scenes and individuals, we seek to reveal the complexity and multiple dimensions of this history, rather than reduce it to a single flattened narrative.

A Portrait of the Prisons: Three Institutions, Three Interwoven Histories

Three major institutions connected to incarceration once existed on Green Island. They played different roles in different periods, yet the public often refers to them collectively as "Green Island Prison," creating confusion in memory:

New Life Correction Center: The Contradiction Between Thought Reform and Humanitarian Radiance

This was the first concentration camp for political prisoners established by the Nationalist government on Green Island in the early White Terror period. Its purpose was not merely imprisonment; more importantly, it sought to carry out "thought reform" on political prisoners⁹. Many arrested dissidents underwent labor reform and political education there. Political prisoners at the time were even forced to participate in the "tattoo movement"¹⁰, having anti-communist slogans tattooed on their bodies as marks of ideological transformation. Yet this group of political prisoners, treated as "new lives," also brought unexpected contributions to Green Island. Among them were many intellectuals and professionals. For example, several physicians were included in the first group of political prisoners transferred to Green Island. In an environment of scarce supplies, they formed the "strongest infirmary"⁵, which not only provided medical care to fellow prisoners but even treated local residents for appendicitis and difficult childbirth, establishing a distinctive bond with the islanders¹¹. More remarkably, political prisoners used makeshift materials to craft violins by hand. One of them is said to have been the first violin of internationally renowned violinist Nai-Yuan Hu. This "violin of hope"⁶ became a symbol of the pursuit of art and freedom amid despair.

Liumagou was the shared household-registration address of political prisoners during the New Life Correction Center period: "No. 15, Liumagou"⁴. This stream, the island’s only source of freshwater, was not only where political prisoners labored and washed clothes, but also where they passed secret messages and even briefly encountered local residents. It carries countless untold stories. The cemetery near Yanzidong, meanwhile, was privately called the "Thirteenth Squadron" by political victims⁷. It buried countless victims who died from illness, suicide, or abuse, and whose families were unable to claim their remains. Their spirits were believed to remain forever with their fellow sufferers.

Oasis Villa: Killing Severity Behind High Walls and the Will to Resist

In 1970, the Taiyuan Incident broke out at Taiyuan Prison in Taitung, when political prisoners attempted an armed seizure of power¹². After the attempt failed, the government rushed to build the Ministry of National Defense’s Green Island Reform and Training Prison on Green Island, nicknamed "Oasis Villa," in order to strengthen strict control over political prisoners¹³. The prison was known for its enclosure by high walls and its Bagua Building-style design. Its cross-shaped radial architectural structure was intended to facilitate management and surveillance, compressing political prisoners’ freedom to the utmost degree¹⁴. Many major political prisoners, including Bo Yang, Shih Ming-teh, and Chen Yingzhen, were incarcerated there¹⁵. The walls of Oasis Villa were once painted with patriotic slogans such as "Be Firmly Anti-Communist" and "The Sea of Bitterness Is Boundless," forming a stark contrast with the prison’s closed nature¹⁶.

Chongde New Village: The Hometown of Big Brothers and the Everyday Life of a Modern Prison

"Chongde New Village," completed in the same year as Oasis Villa, is what we today call the Green Island Prison of the Agency of Corrections, Ministry of Justice. The construction of this prison itself bore the marks of its era. Preparations began on July 1, 1970. Because transportation to Green Island was inconvenient and building materials were difficult to ship, the government selected 80 inmates with construction and repair skills from prisons across Taiwan to form an outside work team and build the facility themselves. After great difficulty, the first phase of construction was completed and opened in September 1972 at a cost of more than NT$8 million¹⁷. Chongde New Village mainly housed the most difficult-to-manage serious offenders and underworld "big brother"-level figures from prisons across Taiwan, and was therefore called the "hometown of big brothers"².

Humanity Behind High Walls: Absurdity, Resilience, and Glimmers of Freedom

Behind the high walls were not only the blood and tears of political prisoners, but also human absurdity and resilience. The writer Bo Yang was imprisoned on Green Island for nearly nine years. In prison, he witnessed the harshness of the environment. Later, he left a famous inscription on the Human Rights Monument: "In that era, how many mothers wept through the long nights for their children imprisoned on this island."¹⁸ This sentence fully conveys the grief of countless families under the White Terror.

Former Democratic Progressive Party chair Shih Ming-teh spent five and a half years in Green Island Prison and once went on hunger strike to protest the authorities. In an environment of extreme scarcity, he used old underwear as toilet paper and even bathed with rice porridge¹⁹. During one prison visit, when faced with the deputy warden’s threat to terminate the meeting, Shih responded with only one word: "joke"⁸. It demonstrated an unyielding will and spiritual freedom under totalitarian oppression. He once said: "I spent thirty years in prison so that the next generation of young people would no longer need to sacrifice themselves for politics..."²⁰

📝 Curator’s Note: In extreme environments, human radiance and dignity often become more visible. Shih Ming-teh’s "joke" was not only contempt for the oppressor, but also firmness in his own convictions. The vitality and creativity shown by political prisoners in prison, such as the contributions of the medical team and the making of violins, prove that even in the darkest corners, the light of humanity is difficult to extinguish completely.

Inmates at Green Island Prison also once participated in making katsuobushi, dried bonito flakes used in East Asian cooking. Green Island has a long history of katsuobushi production, and it was once an important local industry. The prison’s katsuobushi workshop allowed inmates to learn a practical skill. However, according to a former inmate, the bonito flakes made in the prison were "very coarse, one big piece; if ordinary bonito flakes are as thin as rice paper, then their bonito..."²¹. This also reflected the difference in quality between prison production and the outside world. Even in 2025, after an inmate named Wang Tianyou, imprisoned on a drug case, escaped for eight hours, he climbed back to the prison dormitory on his own because he was cold and hungry. When found, he said only: "It was too cold. I regret it."²² This seemingly joking remark nevertheless revealed the harshness of Green Island’s environment, as well as the enormous contrast in state of mind between modern inmates and political prisoners.

The Transformation of Memory: Tourism, Consumption, and the Weight of History

As times changed, the historical meaning of Green Island Prison also continued to transform. Oasis Villa has been converted into the "White Terror Green Island Memorial Park," a place for reflecting on history and commemorating victims. Yet when Green Island Prison is packaged by the tourism industry as the "hometown of big brothers," and some shops even sell souvenirs under the theme "Big Brother’s Story"²³, this commercialization has also prompted discussion about the appropriation of historical memory. When searching for land to build the prison, the Green Island township chief once told residents earnestly: "Green Island must have government agencies stationed here; only then will population be brought in."²⁴ Seen today, this statement appears even more complex and ironic. The existence of the prison did indeed bring population and economic benefits to Green Island, but at the same time it branded the island with historical scars that are difficult to erase.

Green Island Prison, this isolated island in the Pacific, bears some of the heaviest memories in Taiwanese society. From the blood and tears of political prisoners to the legends of underworld bosses, its story is a microcosm of Taiwan’s history. It reminds us that while pursuing economic development and tourism benefits, we must all the more not forget the souls who once paid the price for freedom and democracy.

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