Sound Has No Address: How Taiwan’s Radio Evolved from a State Megaphone to a Local Public Space

In June 1925, the Taiwan Governor-General’s Office used the 30th anniversary of the start of Japanese rule to conduct experimental broadcasts lasting ten days. In October 1928, the Taipei Broadcasting Station was formally established. In February 1931, the semi-official, semi-private Taiwan Broadcasting Association began operations. ^{1 2}

These three dates might appear as a straight line of technological progress. In reality, broadcasting carried two distinct personalities from the very beginning: it could deliver commands into thousands of households, but it could also play a song, a drama, or a local story, allowing listeners to insert their own lives into the schedule arranged by the state.

The history of broadcasting is therefore not just about asking "which year had which station." More worth investigating is who was allowed to speak, who was designated as the audience, which languages could enter the microphone, and whether listeners, once handed a state megaphone, had any way to turn it into their own voice.

30-Second Overview: The contradiction in Taiwan’s broadcasting history lies not in the fact that it was once controlled, but in the fact that controllers had to borrow entertainment, music, dialects, and daily life to make propaganda truly stick.

Before Radios Entered Every Home

The ten-day experimental broadcast in 1925 did not mean radios were directly sent into every home. Radios were set up in Taipei’s New Park, Taipei Hospital, the Taiping Public School in Dadaocheng, as well as post offices, public halls, and municipal offices across various regions. There were even cars carrying loudspeakers broadcasting on the streets. The content at the time included news summaries, lectures, records, nursery rhymes, Western music, traditional Taiwanese music, and weather forecasts. ³

This form of public listening is easily overlooked. When broadcasting first appeared, listeners might not have been sitting in their living rooms, but rather gathered in public buildings, schools, or street corners. Sound first entered a gathered crowd before gradually becoming background noise in private households.

In 1927, the Taiwan Governor-General’s Office formulated rules for radio listening; at that time, there were only 128 registered listening licenses. After the establishment of the Taipei Broadcasting Station in 1928, radios began to transform from curiosities into daily necessities that required payment, registration, and maintenance. ³

The price and technical thresholds of radios also determined the earliest audiences. Research by Lü Shaoli indicates that during the Japanese colonial period, the radio market was dominated by capital, technology, and regional conditions; merchants were the group most likely to become users, and the listening opportunities for Taiwanese were not equal to those of Japanese residents in Taiwan. ¹

Here is a detail that does not fit the "modernization" imagination: broadcasting could cross distances, but it did not automatically cross class lines. Radio waves cannot see thresholds, but radios, electricity, listening fees, and languages certainly can.

The Taiwan Broadcasting Association: Programs Were Not Naturally Grown

After formal broadcasts began in 1931, the Taiwan Broadcasting Association was responsible for increasing the number of listening households, repairing radios, and handling listening obstacles. The development of broadcasting was not just about setting up stations; it also included program production, personnel, funding, fees, and audience management. ¹

Taiwanese broadcasting’s organizational structure was connected to the colonial government’s governance purposes from the start. Research indicates that broadcasting programs were subject to assimilation policies and political intervention, limiting the space for Taiwanese language programs. Broadcasting could introduce hygiene, fire prevention, traffic safety, and radio calisthenics, but it could also package national identity, wartime mobilization, and colonial order into sounds broadcast at fixed times every day. ²

But broadcasting did not consist solely of commands. In early 1930s Taipei, radios also appeared in coffee shops, stores, and urban entertainment spaces. Research from National Chengchi University, reconstructing this experience through newspaper data and literary works, points out that broadcasting brought precise timing, economic news, pop culture, and consumer life into the urban rhythm. Its immediacy changed the way people waited for news, connecting Taipei with the Japanese mainland and even the larger global media market. ³

Some listened to economic news in shops, some used broadcasting as a source of music, and some only remembered stories from the programs. Even if program makers had clear educational purposes, listeners might only take part of it back into their lives. The controlling power of broadcasting was never completed by simply pressing the switch; it first had to become worth listening to.

📝 Curator’s Note: The state can arrange the program schedule, but it cannot fully arrange what a family discusses around the radio.

From the Japanese Broadcasting Station to the Post-War "Voice of Taiwan"

After 1945, Taiwan’s radio stations inherited the broadcasting equipment and networks left by the Japanese colonial period. In June 1946, the Taiwan Broadcasting Station published Voice of Taiwan (Tâi-oân ê Koe), a monthly magazine that continued until December 1950, publishing a total of 54 issues. It featured radio scripts, radio dramas, sheet music, Mandarin instruction materials, Hokkien lectures, children’s stories, family lectures, and literary works. ⁴

Voice of Taiwan effectively illustrates the dual tasks of post-war broadcasting. The founding editorial claimed to make broadcasting "engage both ears and eyes," using sound and text for cultural reconstruction. Research from National Taiwan University indicates that this plan included removing traces of Japanese colonial rule, instilling Chinese culture, disseminating scientific knowledge, and reshaping the post-war citizenry. ⁵

The same publication did not use only a single language. By late 1947, broadcasting was divided into First, Second, and Third broadcasts; the Second Broadcast used Hokkien exclusively, specifically designed for local audiences. ⁵ Journal data preserved by the National Taiwan Literature Museum also shows that early issues of Voice of Taiwan featured Hokkien lectures, Japanese content, music, novels, and family courses, but language and editorial policy were gradually influenced by the political environment. ⁴

This change cannot be simplified into "local voices were immediately banned after the war," nor written as "broadcasting was open from then on." A more accurate statement is that broadcasting institutions once had to face audiences speaking different languages, but under the pressure of the February 28 Incident, martial law, Mandarin policies, and Cold War mobilization, the languages and content that could appear were gradually reordered.

Voice of Taiwan leaves another clue: broadcasting was not just programs received by ears, but also paper materials that could be read, collected, and studied. When original sounds are difficult to preserve, program schedules, radio drama scripts, sheet music, and magazine advertisements become important entry points for tracing post-war sound lives. ^{4 5}

Radios Entered Daily Life and the Wartime System

In the 1950s, the government took over the radio stations and listening habits from the Japanese colonial period, incorporating broadcasting into the propaganda system of "anti-communism and resisting Russia." Research from the Academia Historica indicates that after the 1945 takeover, broadcasting stations across Taiwan were renamed radio stations; in 1946, related organizations were reorganized into the Chinese Broadcasting Company (CBC); in 1949, CBC was fully organized in Taipei, making "anti-communism and resisting Russia" its main business policy. ⁶

This system was not maintained solely by political speeches. Programs in the 1950s gradually added radio dramas, simulcasts, family content, and other life scenarios. Research by Lin Guoxian on Broadcasting Magazine indicates that in an environment where party-state departments screened and monopolized information, they began to learn to place anti-communist knowledge into a more approachable broadcasting world. Thus, war preparedness and daily life appeared simultaneously in the same radio. ⁷

The number of radios also increased rapidly. Data compiled by the Academia Historica shows that in 1952, there were approximately 50,000 registered radios, and by 1962, the number exceeded one million. This growth made broadcasting one of Taiwan’s most penetrating media for information and entertainment before the popularization of television. ⁶

A family might listen to fitness exercises in the morning, market news in the afternoon, and songs or radio dramas in the evening, with government policy announcements interspersed in the programs. This does not mean family members believed every word broadcast, nor that they could escape the entire system of control. It only means that the authoritarian regime did not exist solely in slogans, but was also hidden in the day’s schedule, sound habits, and family spaces.

Private Broadcasting Kept Taiwanese in the Microphone

Broadcasting during the martial law period cannot be written only as the history of party-run stations. Research by Zhou Fuyi on private broadcasting from 1952 to 1987 indicates that there were still over twenty private stations during martial law. Lacking the resources of party, military, and state-run stations, these stations relied on advertising and entertainment programs to attract listeners, thus using Taiwanese for broadcasting, producing Taiwanese songs, radio dramas, and radio gezaixi (opera) within limited spaces. ⁸

The existence of private stations did not equal free media. Research indicates that founders of some stations in the 1950s had party-state-military backgrounds, and private stations were also controlled by administrative orders, post-event censorship, and the security system. ⁸ But there were still gaps between control and usage. Programs needed listeners to have advertising; advertising needed a market; the market forced stations to respond to the languages and content people truly understood and were willing to listen to for long periods.

Therefore, Taiwanese songs and radio gezaixi were not just cultural preservation items, but also a media economy. They kept stations alive and allowed languages compressed by Mandarin policies to continue appearing in daily sound. This history cannot be written as stations bravely resisting the state, because most stations operated within the scope of control. A statement closer to historical materials is: private broadcasting found gaps for commercial survival within institutional limits, and Taiwanese language and local culture happened to find audiences in those gaps.

From 1968 to 1973, the Chinese Culture Recovery Movement further shrank the space for Taiwanese in private broadcasting. From 1974 to 1987, pre-event censorship and radio/television regulations further tightened program content. After the lifting of martial law, related controls were gradually lifted through legislative amendments. ⁸

📝 Curator’s Note: Sometimes, local languages are not preserved by a single public victory, but by a program that must have listeners and advertisers, slowly pushing through the narrow gate of the system.

Broadcasting Was Also a Battlefield in East Asia

Taiwan’s broadcasting cannot be placed only within the history of island-wide policy propaganda. Research by Kawashima Makoto calls the period from the 1920s to the 1960s the "era of broadcasting," pointing out that the Japanese Empire, the Chinese Nationalist Party, the Communists, the United States, and the Soviet Union all viewed broadcasting as a tool for mobilization, propaganda, and counter-measures. Broadcasting networks crossed colonial, combat, and linguistic boundaries, forming an electromagnetic wave war in East Asia. ⁹

This cross-border perspective can correct a common misunderstanding: broadcasting was valued not only because the government wanted to "educate the people," but also because it could transmit messages in real-time, broadcast externally, respond to enemy signals, and pull distant battles into the home. Radio waves have no borders, but transmitting stations, language choices, listening equipment, and content censorship all have political boundaries.

During the Japanese colonial period, Taiwan once exported programs to the Japanese mainland. Starting in 1934, Taiwan also accessed the empire’s sound network through relays and overseas broadcasting. After the war, broadcasting was placed into the framework of anti-communist psychological warfare and Cold War propaganda. Different regimes used different languages and enemies, but their imagination of broadcasting as "immediate, universal, and capable of penetrating literacy thresholds" was quite similar. ^{2 9}

February 28, Underground Stations, and Public Sound

The political role of broadcasting became particularly obvious during the February 28 Incident in 1947. Lecture data compiled by Haomin Cultural Action indicates that the public first occupied the Taiwan Broadcasting Station, using the radio to rapidly spread the incident to various regions. This material comes from event side-notes and speaker compilations, suitable for illustrating the public role of broadcasting in the incident, but should not be treated as a single explanation for the speed of communication in all regions. ¹⁰

During the martial law period, radios were also managed with numbered lists, inspections, and maintenance certificates. Station programs had to face monitoring; banned songs and unsubmitted drama scripts became common violations. ¹⁰ For listeners, this control coexisted with radio dramas, folk stories, and songs. The radio made people feel someone was speaking for the state, while also making them wonder if the next program could speak about familiar life.

After 1990, underground stations appeared in large numbers. Haomin Cultural Action records that in 1993, someone launched listener Call-ins on "Voice of Taiwan," making underground stations a channel for politicians, social movement groups, and grassroots workers to speak out. ¹⁰

Underground stations were not a natural result of the lifting of martial law. Even after the lifting of martial law in 1987, legal applications for stations still had thresholds; restrictions did not disappear in a single day. Underground stations formed because the speed of legal loosening, the speed of social demands for speech, and the speed at which existing media could accommodate local voices were different. It turned broadcasting back into a contested public space.

What Broadcasting Left Was Not a Single Sound

From the 1925 experimental broadcasts to the 1990s underground stations, Taiwan’s broadcasting experienced at least several reorganizations. The colonial government incorporated it into education and total mobilization. The post-war government took over stations, transforming broadcasting into a tool for cultural reconstruction, Mandarin education, and anti-communist propaganda. Private stations preserved Taiwanese songs, radio dramas, and local programs between commercial pressure and political control. Around the lifting of martial law, underground stations brought excluded political opinions back to the microphone.

If we look only at institutions, the history of broadcasting would be a series of control measures and station reorganizations. If we look only at pop culture, we would forget why songs, stories, and radio dramas had to find time within such systems. Only by placing these two lines together can we see the true weight of broadcasting: it brought state will into daily life, and left the irregular tones of daily life for later generations to hear.

Today’s people are accustomed to skipping ads with headphones, choosing programs, and adjusting speed. Radios in the past did not have so many options. It was more like a window fixed open; sound came in from outside, and family members in the same room heard the same melodies, news, and silences. But the window not only allowed the state to see the family; the family might also learn by the window which sounds were worth believing and which needed to be kept at a distance.

What is most worth leaving from the history of Taiwan’s broadcasting is not the conclusion that "broadcasting was once important," but how it continued to be used under controlled conditions. Some used it to deliver government decrees, some relied on it to sell songs and ads, some used it to teach languages, some waited for a gezaixi opera, and some sent their political judgments into the public space through Call-ins. Sound has no address, but it always lands somewhere.

Further Reading

• The History of Taiwan's Women's Movement — Another social history moving from institutional control to public speech
• The History of Taiwan's Postal Services — How communication infrastructure entered local daily life
• The History of Taiwan's Agricultural Associations — The institutional history of rural organizations, finance, and local public windows

References

This article was written by cross-referencing academic papers, national archive research, journal data from the National Taiwan Literature Museum, and activity records from local cultural organizations. When dealing with broadcasting control, materials on the colonial government, post-war party-state system, private stations, and underground stations were handled separately, avoiding the direct merger of institutions from different periods into a single route.

Footnotes