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Euronews
25-05-2025
- Euronews
Discover Taiwan's living history on this 113-year-old mountain train
It's 10am, and spears of golden sunlight are piercing the clouds draped over the forested peaks of the Alishan range in southwestern Taiwan. My mode of transport is a steam train, and in many ways, little has changed since it first rumbled through these alpine forests in 1912. Beyond my window, thick clusters of hinoki – otherwise known as Japanese cypress – line the route like a guard of honour, their gnarled, ramrod-straight trunks vying for space with bamboo, prized by the Indigenous Tsou tribe and used for everything from construction to crafts. For better or worse, this is a region shaped by the Japanese who arrived here after the first Sino-Japanese War in 1895. Forestry experts dispatched to the region around the turn of the century confirmed the presence of a huge number of conifers. In 1906, the Japanese company Fujita Group set about building a railway, desperate to nurture a forestry industry built on the vast swathes of cedar and cypress blanketing these mountains. But doing so wasn't easy. Construction was abandoned in 1908, prompting the Taiwanese government to take over the project, and in 1912, the first steam locomotives took to the tracks. Today, as I rumble through the forests of Alishan National Scenic Area along the recently restored 71-kilometre railway (full operations resumed in 2024), it's not hard to see why the Japanese admitted defeat. The route includes countless switchbacks, 77 bridges and 50 tunnels - one of which has recently been painted with images of supersized sunflowers. US-built Shay locomotives were imported to help shift the heavy loads – tonnes of timber destined for Taiwan's ports – but other obstacles were harder to overcome. Typhoons, earthquakes and landslides regularly wreaked havoc on this particular region, and the process of constructing the original railway was a feat of engineering which required a huge amount of manpower. Many of these workers lived in Chiayi, a small city shaped by the timber industry. It's the starting point for the heritage railway, and today, one of its biggest attractions is Hinoki Village, a cluster of squat wooden cottages built as accommodation for railway and forestry workers. These cottages now house souvenir shops selling cedarwood chopping boards and oolong tea grown nearby. Sadly, the railway ground to a halt in the 1960s as the forestry industry declined. Occasional services still ran, but in 2009, Typhoon Morakot hammered the final nail in the coffin, prompting the closure of a railway line already in desperate need of some serious TLC. The workers who brought this railway back to life in 2024 might not live in Hinoki Village, but their passion runs just as deep as its previous tenants. Everyone involved with its restoration, whether it's the stationmasters based at some of the route's most isolated stations or engineers who laid certain sections of rail by hand in remote, inaccessible locations, has the same perspective. This wasn't simply about replacing a few sleepers. 'The Alishan Forest Railway isn't just a railway,' says Mr. Shen Yi-Ching, chief of the Safety Management Division. 'It's a living history of Taiwan. It started with the harvesting of our precious forests during the Japanese colonial era. The railway was built to transport that timber, and around it grew communities, industries and a unique culture.' And it's a culture which the railway honours in numerous ways. Certain carriages are clad with fragrant cedarwood, and many of the stations along the route resemble forest temples. As we pull in, I watch the conductor lean out the window and pass a large token, attached to a loop of rope, to the stationmaster. Before the train departs, another token is passed back to the conductor. It's a ritual which has existed since the railway's heyday, and one which proves that the train had the right to traverse the previous section of track, and has permission to proceed to the next one. Train stations such as Jiaoliping, which huddles in the shadow of both cedar-carpeted mountains and a trackside, lantern-adorned temple, are spotlessly clean. All too often, railways in Europe become dumping grounds for discarded bottles, cans and other detritus. But here, any scraps of litter are quickly removed by members of the local communities, who see the railway as a lifeline, and regularly gather to conduct organised litter-picking sessions. The trains chugging along this railway didn't just carry lumber – they carried supplies and post, and connected locals with the outside world. Today, the cargo is tourists – an equally valuable commodity. Many of the stations double as departure points for hikers keen to explore the trails which weave through Alishan's firefly-dotted mountains. The lumberjacks and train drivers who would pause at these stations to rest and refuel have now been replaced by tourists who queue at food stalls to feast on the bento boxes which once sustained those who toiled on its tracks. I recommend a serving of turkey rice (a speciality in this part of Taiwan), followed by a cup of oolong mountain tea (gāoshān chá). Relics from the railway's heyday are never far away. There are rusting water guns once used by track gangs to extinguish fires caused by sparks from the train. Ruan Wen-An, who lives next to the railway's tiny Dulishan railway station, will happily show passengers the one once owned by his grandfather. Ancient tools are on display at Fenqihu Station. Here, a cathedral-like wooden loco shed has been transformed into an exhibition space where visitors can learn about the railway's history. For many people, the final destination is Alishan Station, 71.4 kilometres from Chiayi. But the short, sweet Zhushan Line, an extension which opened in 1984, is now part of the railway's story, too. It is the only section of the Alishan Forest Railway to be built after WWII. The day after arriving at Alishan Station, I return to board the so-called sunrise train for the 30-minute journey to Zhushan Station. At 2,451 metres above sea level, it's Taiwan's highest train station. In 2023, it emerged from a major renovation, with a sweeping roof resembling two lengths of ribbon, and architectural elements inspired by the clouds which regularly cloak the surrounding peaks. Nature has shaped its design in more tangible ways, too; near the entrance, a towering red cedar grows through a bespoke hole in the roof. It is a Taiwanese take on the mid-century modern buildings I've seen in Palm Springs, many of which have circular holes added to accommodate palm trees. Nature shapes departure times, too. They depend on what time the sun rises that day, displayed on platform sign boards which are manually changed. A train worker tells me that despite this particular journey lasting just 30 minutes, it generates a similar revenue to that of the restored Alishan Forest Railway. The reason? Every morning, tourists clamour to board the train in time to watch the sun rise over the distant mountains from an observation point close to Zhushan station. Taiwan's tallest peak, Jade Mountain, is one of the many natural wonders on show. The Alishan Forest Railway is a railway which has truly stood the test of time, and it's fitting that much of its restoration was carried out not with machinery but by hand. It's a labour of love, and one which passed a recent, unexpected test with flying colours. Just a few days after its opening in July 2024, Typhoon Gaemi swept over Taiwan, and landslides meant the railway was forced to close so that tracks could be cleared. But unlike the typhoon, which sealed its fate in 2009, the railway emerged largely unscathed, opening a month later – proof that this cedar-scented success story is here to stay. Rome is a splendour of religious riches that attracts over 30 million visitors annually, and 2025 is a particularly significant year for this cradle of Catholicism. The Vatican is celebrating a Jubilee Year with dozens of events. The funeral of Pope Francis and the election of a new pontiff have also shone a spotlight on the Italian capital. If you are heading to Rome to marvel at its myriad religious monuments, it can be hard to know where to start. For a particularly meaningful way to visit Rome's major churches - and to sidestep the crowds - try following in the footsteps of a 16th-century saint. Though you may not expect it, the Eternal City is a delight to explore on foot. In fact, a recent ranking by GuruWalk placed Rome first as the most walkable city in the world, describing it as 'an open-air museum that deserves to be explored thoroughly, step by step'. St Philip Neri conceived the Pilgrimage of the Seven Churches around the year 1553, and tracing the route has become one of Rome's oldest religious traditions. There are slight variations you can take, but it is roughly 25 kilometres and snakes around the whole city between the seven major basilicas. If you start early in the morning, it can make for an impressive full-day challenge. Otherwise, you can split it over days and easily take public transport to return to the place you left off. It is a good idea to begin the route at St Peter's Basilica. Given that the church is very busy at the moment, it makes sense to join the queue as early as possible for the shortest waiting time. It will make it easier to see the artistic treasures inside the cavernous church, from Michelangelo's Pietà sculpture to Gian Lorenzo Bernini's Baldacchino - a richly carved bronze canopy surmounting the high altar. To see sights en route during daylight and opening hours, it's best to make the next stop the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, around an hour's walk away. The route takes you past the hulking Sant'Angelo castle and over the homonymous bridge lined with drapery-clad stone angels with views down the Tiber River. The cobbled, atmospheric Via dei Coronari leads you to Piazza Navona, home to the aquatic theatrics of Bernini's Four Rivers Fountain. The road continues on, passing directly in front of the majestic Trevi Fountain. Another 20 minutes walking takes you to the second of Rome's major churches, where Pope Francis chose to be buried. Santa Maria Maggiore is a key place of worship for Marian devotion, containing a sacred Byzantine icon featuring the Virgin known as the Salus Populi Romani, or Protectress of the Roman people. A half hour's walk, passing in front of the Termini railway station and along the wide boulevard Via dei Ramni, takes you to the church of San Lorenzo Fuori le Mura. The building was reconstructed after bombing during the Second World War, but it lies on the ancient site of the martyrdom of St Lawrence, who was roasted alive on a grill in 258. The saint's relics are housed inside. Another half-hour stretch leads to the Basilica of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, passing the ancient Roman Porta Maggiore gateway and aqueducts en route. The pale stone Baroque structure was envisaged as a giant reliquary and houses some of the most famous relics in Christianity recovered by St Helen, mother of the Emperor Constantine, during her pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 325. Among them are the Holy Nail, some fragments of the True Cross, a thorn from the Crown of Christ and a bone from the finger of St Thomas the Apostle. From here, follow the ancient Aurelian walls along Via Carlo Felice for 15 minutes to the monumental Papal Basilica of San Giovanni in Laterano. This is the Cathedral of Rome, as well as the oldest and most important basilica in the West. Consecrated in the 4th century, it houses the relics of the heads of the Apostles of Rome, Peter and Paul, kept in an exquisite gilded Gothic canopy over the papal altar. The next stretch to the sixth church takes just over an hour, passing along the 3rd-century Aurelian Walls and down the Via Appia Antica, an ancient road where you lose the city for a moment and seem transported to bucolic countryside. The Basilica of San Sebastiano Fuori le Mura is simpler, at least compared to the majesty of the previous churches. It contains an arrow and part of the column from St Sebastian's martyrdom and the Bust of the Saviour, the last sculptural masterpiece by Bernini, rediscovered in 2001 in the adjacent convent. The final church is reached along the Via delle Sette Chiese, named for the seven churches pilgrimage. The peaceful road through Rome's outskirts leads to the Basilica of San Paolo Fuori le Mura, the second-largest church in Rome. Founded in the 4th century, it was rebuilt in neo-classical style following a fire in the 19th century. Make sure you visit the cloister, a vestige from the 13th century, and its graceful, mosaic inlaid columns. If you time your day right, you can then meander for a sunset-tinged hour back along the banks of the Tiber, with a little detour through the characterful, labyrinthine Trastevere neighbourhood, to return to St Peter's.


Yomiuri Shimbun
21-05-2025
- General
- Yomiuri Shimbun
Former Army Pilot Hopes for World Without War; ‘War Produces Nothing But Victims'
The Yomiuri Shimbun Reiji Kitajima talks about his wartime experiences while showing pictures from his days at the Mito army aviation school, on April 18 in Fujisawa. During the Pacific War, Reiji Kitajima was sent to Manila and other battlefronts in the south as an army fighter plane pilot. At 102 years old, Kitajima, who lives in Fujisawa, Kanagawa Prefecture, recalls why he became a pilot: to fulfill his childhood dream of flying. He also remembers how he gradually came to see shooting down enemy fighter plane as a matter of course. With almost 80 years having passed since the end of the war, there are fewer and fewer people who can share their wartime experiences. 'War produces nothing but victims,' he said. 'We must continue to think about what we can do to stop war.' Kitajima was born in Shizuoka Prefecture in 1923, the sixth of nine children to parents who were green tea farmers. After graduating from a higher elementary school, he left his parents' house in search of a stable life and began working at a post office in present-day Fujisawa. Although the Sino-Japanese War had begun in 1937, he believed wars had nothing to do with him. However, his life totally changed when he was 18 years old. He saw a call for volunteer soldiers in a newspaper and was inspired to become a pilot so he could fly out of the small world he had lived in so far. He volunteered for the military without a sense of the realness of war. He passed a test and was admitted to a pilot training school. After studying at the school, he went on to the Mito army aviation school, where in addition to receiving flight training and classroom lectures on meteorology and other subjects, he listened to sermons by a Buddhist monk. The monk lived in the neighborhood and visited the school every day to preach the teachings of militarism. 'Your honorable death in battle will help protect your family and Japan,' the monk said. Kitajima started to become more aware of the war, and his fear of death diminished. Courtesy of Reiji Kitajima A group photo taken when Kitajima was in the Mito army aviation school In March 1943, he graduated from the aviation school and was assigned to an Army Air Force unit in the south. While in the unit, he mainly flew a Hayabusa Type 1 Fighter and a Shoki Type 2 Single-Seat Fighter and experienced aerial dogfights in Manila, Java, New Guinea and other places. He always displayed a photograph of his father and mother in the cockpit. During combat in the air between Manila and Borneo, his plane experienced engine trouble and made an emergency landing on sea. He thought no one would come to save him, but he was eventually rescued by a ship and narrowly avoided death. Whenever news of a comrade's death reached his base, he always thought, 'That will be me someday.' For respite, he enjoyed Java chocolates, which he had never tasted in Japan, the sweet flavor distracting him from the war. Around the beginning of 1945, fewer than 20 Japanese fighter planes had to intercept twice as many enemy fighter planes at a higher frequency than ever before. Kitajima felt strongly that the war was deteriorating for Japan. Many of his fellow pilots who had headed back to Japan on resupply missions did not return, sparking concerns over a shortage of war supplies. Every time this happened, he would come close to losing all hope. However, he encouraged himself by thinking, 'We have to win.' End of war Courtesy of Reiji Kitajima Reiji Kitajima when he was in the army Kitajima learned that the war had ended when he was in Java. Tears fell from his eyes as he thought, 'I can return to Japan alive.' He spent six months as a captive in Singapore before returning home to his parents in Shizuoka Prefecture. His mother welcomed him with a hug. After the war, he worked at a machinery component manufacturer in Fujisawa until he reached the age of retirement. In addition to being involved in activities that contributed to the community, he helped to establish the Chiran Peace Museum in Kagoshima Prefecture since he had experiences in escorting fighter planes on the kamikaze special attack mission during the war. Kitajima now lives in a nursing home in Fujisawa. Even after 80 years, he still recalls being in the cockpit, pushing a button with his left hand to shoot and seeing an enemy fighter plane hit by the bullets falling slowly. During the war, he thought he did what he had to do. Now, however, he feels that killing is absolutely something that must not be done. 'I only survived the war by chance,' he said. 'I want our society based on the fundamental principle of not waging war.'


Japan Forward
21-05-2025
- Politics
- Japan Forward
Reclaim Your Right to Vote in this Centennial Year
このページを 日本語 で読む May 2025 marks 100 years since the promulgation of the Universal Manhood Suffrage Act. That law abolished tax payment requirements for voting. It gave all males over the age of 25 the right to vote in elections for the House of Representatives. Elections are the bedrock of democracy. Voters entrust the creation of laws, administration, and other public duties to Diet members, prefectural assembly members, and heads of local governments that they have elected. We should take this centenary as an opportunity to remind ourselves of the importance of voting. The National Diet of Japan. The first election for the House of Representatives of the Diet took place in 1890. Its main role at that time was to decide the government's budget. Also, voting rights were initially limited to men aged 25 and over who paid at least ¥15 yen annually in direct national taxes. Eligible voters accounted for only 1% of Japan's total population at the time. However, after the Sino-Japanese War of 1894-95 and the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-05, the idea became widespread that it was wrong for men who risked their lives to protect their country not to have a say in politics. Then, in the Taisho era (1912-26), a national movement calling for universal suffrage arose. The result was that on May 5, 1925, the Universal Manhood Suffrage Act was promulgated, abolishing the tax payment requirement. After World War II ended, in December 1945, the Act was revised to give men and women over the age of 20 the right to vote. The year 2025 marks the 80th anniversary of that momentous event. Over the last century, the ratio of eligible voters to the total population has also risen steadily. Initially merely 1%, the ratio rose to about 20% with the promulgation of the Universal Manhood Suffrage Law in 1925. It expanded further to about 50% in 1945 with the postwar changes. Then, in 2016, the minimum voting age was lowered to 18 years old. As a result, the proportion of voters in the total population of Japanese citizens now stands at over 80%. Voters at a polling station in Setagaya Ward inTokyo. (©Sankei by Kenji Suzuki) What is unfortunate is that even though the right to vote has been expanded, voter turnout has been plummeting. The turnout rate for the 1946 House of Representatives election was 72.08%. However, it was only 53.85% for the 2024 House of Representatives election. This means that nearly one out of every two eligible voters has abandoned their right to vote. That is a problem for an avowedly democratic nation. There are many countries, such as Belgium and Australia, where voting is compulsory, and those who do not vote are penalized. Voter turnout in these countries is close to 90%. Ideally, however, people should be motivated to vote and become involved in politics on their own. For better or worse, politics acts as a mirror for a nation. If people are unhappy with political parties and politicians, they should use their votes to make that clear. Complaints by people who did not exercise their right to vote lack persuasiveness. The late Konosuke Matsushita, founder of Matsushita Electric Industrial (now Panasonic), once wrote the following warning about the public becoming bystanders in politics. He published it in the magazine PHP , which he also founded. He said: As long as the public ridicules politics, they will get only politics worthy of ridicule. Upper House elections are coming up in this summer of 2025. Not exercising your right to vote should not be an option. Author: Editorial Board, The Sankei Shimbun このページを 日本語 で読む
Yahoo
06-03-2025
- Yahoo
Frenchman's mislabelled war photos donation sparks China controversy
A Frenchman's donation of vintage conflict photographs to China offers insight into the 1930-1940s Sino-Japanese War -- even if some images are not the unique family heirlooms he believed them to be. Marcus Detrez landed in Beijing last month with a leather briefcase that he said contained hundreds of his grandfather's pictures from the conflict, which ended in 1945 after widespread atrocities in China. State-run media outlets such as China Daily and CCTV reported that the 26-year-old found the yellowed images while rummaging through the garage of his family home in 2021. "All of them were taken by my grandfather Roger-Pierre Laurens in Shanghai," says text over a video featuring Detrez and his companions on Douyin, China's version of TikTok. Detrez's claims spread quickly, racking up tens of thousands of shares on Douyin ahead of the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II later this year. However, an AFP digital investigation found many of the pictures were taken by other people. Two photos have been attributed to the Associated Press, while some digital copies of the images were published years ago by Chinese media outlets. Jamie Carstairs, former manager of the Historical Photographs of China (HPC) project at Britain's University of Bristol, said that Detrez should be "congratulated for his kind donation" but that "care should be taken". "It is not correct to say that the photos were purportedly taken by Roger-Pierre Laurens," Carstairs said. "Some of them might have been, but others were not." - 'Return the truth' - Japan's early 20th-century imperial ambitions resulted in military occupations across large parts of Asia, including China. After invading in the 1930s, Japanese soldiers committed atrocities like the 1937 Nanjing Massacre, a six-week spree of mass murder, rape and looting that killed tens if not hundreds of thousands of the city's inhabitants. Detrez said in a May 2024 Douyin video that his grandfather "came to Shanghai in 1930 as an entrepreneur" and "took these photos fearlessly" despite two of his sons being killed by the Japanese. He later told a Beijing broadcaster he wanted to "return the truth to the Chinese". After state broadcaster CGTN reported Detrez "expressed an intention to donate them to Chinese institutions", a Shanghai Sino-Japanese War memorial hall told CCTV that his photos had been received and were "pending professional appraisal". - 'Duplicate prints' - However, AFP found several inconsistencies. A photo featuring a Japanese naval parade through a Shanghai street traces back to online archives from the US Naval History and Heritage Command, which told AFP it was taken by a chief warrant officer in 1937. Carstairs said the HPC database, which includes a large collection of original materials and digitised versions of historic images, indicates a few of the pictures appear in an album from Chinese photographer Ah Fong, who was active in the 1930s. Most of those images were taken between August and November 1937 by two photographers, identified only as "S.S." and "S.C.S". "Copies of the album of photos sold by Ah Fong come up for sale from time to time," Carstairs told AFP, adding that Detrez appears to have "duplicate prints of some photos". Carstairs said that while the source of historic images is "often quite difficult to find out", it is "easy to find out who compiled albums or collected photographic prints". Despite the mostly positive reaction in China, some social media users questioned Detrez's claims. "The French guy and his companions... used these photos to steal traffic and engagement, thinking all Chinese are fools," one WeChat user wrote in a post. Detrez did not respond to an AFP request for comment, but on Douyin called challenges to the authenticity of the photographs "malicious speculation". tw/df/mjw/je/pjm/sco