Audio Guide of The Ke Qi-Hua House (EN)

Welcome to the Ke Qi-hua House. When you hear the name “Ke Qi-hua,” what’s the first thing that comes to mind? Most people of Taiwan will probably think of the book New English Grammar. It was an indispensible reference for high school students in the 1950s and 60s, and almost everyone owned a copy. In a time of political stability, Ke might have spent his life as a grammarian. But like so many other young intellectuals in the White Terror period, he was unjustly imprisoned on political grounds, cruelly upending his life.

Nevertheless, his will was unbroken. After release from prison, he took part in the democracy movement and spared no effort in promoting Taiwan culture. Thus, not only was he an excellent teacher, an authority on English grammar, but a courageous democracy activist as well.

The building’s exterior is a 1960s’design, with simple lines on the façade. The house has four floors. The publishing house Ke Qi-hua founded is on the first floor. The family’s living quarters are on the second and third floors. The fourth floor was once a place for the children to play table tennis and plant bonsai. Later, a galvanized-iron warehouse was erected and equipped with an electric winch to carry large numbers of books.

Why did Ke found a publishing house? In addition to teaching at a public school, he also operated a cram school in his home. When cram classes opened, nearly a hundred students came to register. What’s more, Ke compiled and published his teaching materials as an English reference book, pleasing both parents and students, and the books sold out almost immediately. Ke opened a publishing house name First Publishing to streamline publishing. Although he was arrested and imprisoned just as the business was flourishing, the concern continued to operate.

After his release from prison,Kepromoted Taiwan culture through First Publishing, founding a magazine. Today, First Publishing is still operating. Established in 1958, it’s been in business for over sixty years.

Ke 's life story gives us a look at the efforts and sacrifices our predecessors made in developing democracy and human rights in Taiwan. Therefore, in 2004 Kaohsiung City Government designated Ke’s house as a historic building to commemorate his contributions to Taiwan's democracy and culture.

Mrs. Ke: It's a boy! What should we name him?
Mr. Ke: Hmm…let's name him after each of our hometowns—call him "Qi-hua"!

Ke Qi-hua was born in 1929, when Taiwan was still under Japanese colonization. His father hailed from Shanhua in Tainan city, and his mother from Cishan in Kaohsiung city. They each chose a Chinese character from the names of their respective hometowns, and that's how Ke got his name. It was a remembrance and a symbol of love for the family's places of origin.

As a youth, Ke was an excellent student, graduating first in his class from Zuoying Public Elementary School and testing into Kaohsiung Senior High School. At the time, most Kaohsiung Senior High School students were Japanese, with only a few Taiwanese people among them. Getting into the school was not at all easy for Taiwanese students.

Because his family had little money, it seemed that Ke would be unable to continue his studies. However, he begged his father to let him apply to a publicly funded teachers' college, today's National Taiwan Normal University. Ke tested into the school's English department, his first choice of majors. He loved reading, and while studying at the college, read widely in history, philosophy, and psychoanalysis, broadening his horizons.

After graduation, the National Government of the Republic of China had already come to Taiwan, Ke became a devoted English instructor, returning to teach in Kaohsiung city. Ke taught English at Cishan High School, Kaohsiung City Junior High, Kaohsiung Girls' Junior High School, and Kaohsiung Senior High School. And thanks to his superb foreign language skills, he also served as a translator for the US Army Advisory Group. We're now in the living room, facing a tall bookcase displaying His book collection. It's not hard to imagine what a diligent reader he was.

When the 228 Incident erupted, Ke Qi-hua was overcome with grief and anger at the change in Taiwan's political atmosphere. Unassuming by nature, Ke never thought he’d be implicated by his classmates and arrested for questioning.

On July 31, 1951, government agents raided Ke ’s home and found a copy of Dialectical Materialism. For Ke, the book was simply a philosophical work, and he didn’t approve of Marxist ideas. Unfortunately, despite his explanation, he was labeled a political dissident and sent to Green Island for thought reform. That was his first arrest.

On the afternoon of October 4, 1961, the Nationalist government arrested Ke again, this time on charges of insurrection. He was hustled into a jeep before he’d even had time to dress. The name “Qi-hua” had been deliberately misinterpreted to mean “overthrow the regime,” and he was imprisoned for fifteen years. The beatings and psychological torture he endured in prison were a lifelong nightmare he never broke free of. After returning home, he was often seized by fear in his sleep, struggling to resist.

In his later years, after finishing his autobiography, it seems Ke had fulfilled his purpose in life. He said, “I’ve done what I had to do.” Later on, his speech and actions began to deteriorate and he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. In 2000, Kaohsiung District Court ruled that he’d been wrongfully arrested and imprisoned—lying on his sick bed, Ke was finally vindicated.

After Ke Qi-hua was taken away, his wife Ke Cai A-li shielded the children from the truth, simply telling them, “Daddy’s gone to the U.S.” At Christmas time she’d buy imported goods and pretend Ke had sent them from abroad. Furthermore, she’d often discuss The Count of Montecristo and Les Miserables with the children, explaining that not all who are imprisoned have done wrong.

As the children got older, they began to wonder why their father was never at home. Ke Zhi-ming, the eldest son, had suspicions but was afraid to ask. Ke's daughter, Ke Jie-fang, discovered that her father's letters had been sent from Taitung, not the USA. Ke Cai A-li realized she could no longer hide the truth and brought out a copy of the verdict. She told the children where their father was, explaining that the charges against him were fabricated—Ke loved Taiwan and would never betray his country. Consequently, Ke’s children still held him in the highest regard.

Ke ’s only news of his kids came from the letters and photos his wife sent. After more than ten years, the family reunited for the first time in prison. Seeing that his toddler son had grown into a teenager, Ke was filled with sorrow, but father and son were still close, and all enjoyed the visit.

We're now in the Ke family's living quarters. Here we can not only view Ke’s extensive book collection but also listen on headphones to an interview with Ke’s wife Ke Cai A-li and eldest son Ke Zhi-ming recounting their memories of the time when “Dad was in the USA.”

Ke Qi-hua and Ke Cai A-li met through a friend's introduction. Ke had recently returned from Green Island, where he’d been sent for thought reform following his first arrest. But A-li didn’t care—she didn't believe Ke had done anything wrong. Despite her mother's objections, A-li chose Ke as her lifelong partner. You're now in the bedroom they shared after moving here.

After they married, the couple lived a busy life, having three children in a row. Unexpectedly, only six years after marriage, Ke was arrested again, and their happy days came to an abrupt end.

For the three little children’s sake, Ke Cai A-li had to conceal her grief. Sickened by the trauma she’d experienced, she forced herself to go on, resolutely facing the future.

Apart from her own job, Ke Cai A-li had to look after the children and run the publishing business. In spare moments, she tirelessly prepared books, nutrients, and food to send to her husband, every package filled with her love for him. Their weekly communication became the couple’s emotional sustenance. When Ke 's imprisonment was unreasonably extended, Ke Cai A-li wrote a letter to then-premier Chiang Ching-kuo saying that she was willing to put her own life up as a guarantee in exchange for her husband’s release from prison.

Ke and Ke Cai A-li’s unwavering love for each other strengthened them in the face of life’s trials and tribulations.

Poet Chen Huixin wrote a poem about Ke Qi-hua entitled “New English Grammar.”
Some lines read: …His name leapt out on the authoritarians’ list / Grammar was suppressed, no longer grammar / He resisted psychic trauma with his expertise.... The poem accurately describes Ke’s plight at the time.

Here, in his study, let’s learn about Ke’s literary life. Publishing English teaching materials was a lifelong endeavor for him. Even though New English Grammar had been reprinted many times, Ke still felt it was inadequate. In the harsh prison environment, with few resources, he toiled to complete an updated version of the book. At the same time, he also wrote two novels, Southern Hometownand An Unforgettable Melody. The protagonist in each of the novels bears a marked resemblance to the author. For instance, in Southern Hometown, the main character yearns to return to his homeland, a reflection of Ke’s state of mind while imprisoned.

Ke Zhi-ming said that apart from educator and grammarian, his father also liked to call himself a poet and man of letters. After his release from prison, moved by his experiences, Ke took up poetry, a form he felt was terse, powerful, and metaphoric. His poems are informed by nativist sentiments and political criticism. Most representative among them is “Mother’s Lament,” a remembrance of his senior schoolmate Yu Ren-de’s execution by firing squad in the 228 Incident.

In 1979, the Meilidao Incident took place in Kaohsiung, a seminal event in the history of Taiwan’s democracy movement. In the wake of the incident, Ke Qi-hua began actively promoting Taiwan democracy and Taiwanese culture. He obtained all catalogs of books related to Taiwanese culture from various bookstores, compiling the Taiwanese Cultural Books Catalog, offered to scholars and people from all walks of life for research and reference. At the time, everyone knew that if you wanted to buy books on Taiwanese culture, First Publishing was the place to go.

In 1986, Ke founded Formosan Culture magazine, publishing articles on human rights, politics, and culture. He also ran a regular Taiwanese-language column in the periodical, revealing his commitment to his native tongue. Certain articles were banned for criticizing the government and promoting Taiwan independence, and the magazine was eventually shut down.

Ke also participated in street demonstrations in support of social movements and issued powerful commentary expressing his hopes for political reform. His vision for the future is expressed in his poem "Springtime in Formosa":

…Let the root of Taiwan culture run deeply in the homeland soil;
Let democracy echo through the joyous mountains and rivers;
From now on, freedom for all, from now on, equality for all,
From now on, a harmonious, loving Formosa.

Now that we’ve finished our tour, do you really feel that Taiwan’s democracy was easily won? You’re welcome to follow the official Ke Qi-hua House Facebook page and share your thoughts. And don't forget to attend to human rights’ issues after returning home—Taiwan needs us all to defend it together.

This concludes our guided tour. Thank you for your participation. Bye-bye!