Nestled along Taiwan’s northern coast, Keelung (Jilong) is a city often overshadowed by Taipei’s glittering skyline or Kaohsiung’s bustling ports. Yet, its history is a microcosm of Taiwan’s turbulent past—a story of colonization, war, and identity that resonates deeply in today’s geopolitical tensions.
Long before Spanish galleons or Dutch merchants arrived, Keelung was home to the Ketagalan people, an indigenous tribe with deep ties to the land. Their legacy lingers in place names like "Keelung" itself, derived from the Ketagalan word "Kelang" (meaning "wave-swept harbor"). Archaeological finds—pottery shards, stone tools—paint a picture of a thriving maritime culture.
In 1626, the Spanish built San Salvador de Isla Hermosa, a fortress on Heping Island, aiming to control trade routes. Their rule was short-lived; by 1642, the Dutch ousted them, only to be expelled by Ming loyalist Koxinga in 1661. Each colonizer left scars—and a cultural mosaic. The Dutch introduced sugarcane; the Spanish brought Catholicism. Today, remnants of San Salvador lie buried under modern highways, a metaphor for Taiwan’s layered history.
After the Qing annexed Taiwan in 1683, Keelung became a backwater—a pirate haven and smuggling hub. But in 1863, everything changed. The Second Opium War forced Qing to open Keelung as a treaty port. British merchants arrived, exporting camphor and tea. The city’s cobblestone streets still echo this era, where opium dens stood beside missionary schools.
After the First Sino-Japanese War (1895), Japan seized Taiwan. Keelung became "Kīrun"—a jewel in Japan’s colonial crown. The Japanese dredged the harbor, built railroads, and erected the iconic Miho Pier. They also imposed brutal policies: forced labor, cultural assimilation (kominka), and the enlistment of Taiwanese in WWII. The Zhongzheng Park’s Shinto shrine ruins stand as silent witnesses.
After Japan’s defeat in 1945, Keelung became a Kuomintang (KMT) stronghold. Chiang Kai-shek’s troops flooded in, and the city turned into a military hub during the Chinese Civil War. The White Terror saw executions at Badouzi Coastal Park—a grim chapter locals rarely discuss. Meanwhile, U.S. aid poured in, shaping Keelung’s port into a Cold War bulwark against communism.
Few know Keelung was a haven for Vietnamese "boat people" in the 1970s. Over 20,000 refugees landed here, housed in camps like Bisha Fishing Port. Their stories—of fleeing war, only to face limbo—mirror today’s global migrant crises.
Today, Keelung’s youth grapple with identity. Mandarin, Taiwanese Hokkien, and Japanese loanwords blend in night markets. Some see themselves as Taiwanese; others cling to Chinese roots. The Keelung Cultural Center hosts debates on "decolonizing history"—a trend echoing across former colonies.
Keelung’s port is now critical in the U.S.-China tech cold war. TSMC’s chips sail from here, making Taiwan a global choke point. China’s military drills near Keelung—like the 2022 blockade simulations—raise fears of another Ukraine. Yet, the city’s fishermen shrug: "We’ve survived empires before."
At Heping Island Park, waves crash against Spanish-era walls. Tourists snap selfies, unaware of the mass graves beneath—victims of Qing-era rebellions, Japanese bombings, KMT purges. Keelung’s past is a palimpsest, each layer etched in violence and resilience.
As tensions escalate, Keelung remains Taiwan’s silent sentinel. Its history warns: empires rise and fall, but the sea endures.