This is the first part of a translation from the original

我賣藥，也賣台：中國對台語電台的滲透

, by Wang Hung-jen (王宏仁), a professor of sociology at National Sun Yat-sen University. Originally published by

Voicettank

. Translation by Tim Smith.

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I am a child of the radio era, and ever since I could remember, I listened to the radio. Why did I listen to the radio instead of watching the news or reading stuff online? Because I could listen while I work. Factory women from that era listened to broadcast songs sung by Fong Fei-fei while they slaved away. Many older folks sixty and above grew up with the radio, and the airwaves are still their best companions for working in a factory or in the field, while out for a hike or stroll, or just doing chores around the house.

Social media for old folks

I moved to Kaohsiung 11 years ago. The Mandarin-language radio I had heard in Taipei were all gone, and I picked up Kaohsiung’s local radios. At first I listened to the Mandarin-language stations like Gangdu 98 and Kiss Radio.

At that time, my impression of Taiwanese-language radio stations was stuck in the stereotype of peddling homemade pills and lotions. But after I got tired of listening to Mandarin radio programs and their endless soft love ballads and entertainment news, I started to turn to Taiwanese-language stations, which immediately brought me back to my childhood. More and more I would permanently set the dial to the Taiwanese programs I liked the most. I would even talk about various radio hosts and their programs with taxi drivers.

People think these Taiwanese-language stations are all illegal, but that’s just a stereotype. The fact is that they are all legally registered. People also think that they are all about selling weird potions and illegal supplements, but that too is a stereotype, and the products marketed by these stations are all standard with Ministry of Health quality inspections. The NCC (the equivalent of the FCC in Taiwan) also strictly controls advertising times. Therefore, let’s not stereotype Taiwanese language stations. They have to have commercials to stay afloat, just like everyone else.

The biggest goal of these Taiwanese stations is of course to sell products, but it’s not like they can sell more supplements simply by repeating how well the pills work. The business model is actually focused on building a “fanbase” of seniors and the elderly. In other words, creating a social network.

Each program has two phone lines for listeners to call in. One is for gossiping with the host, and the other is for placing orders for products. Each number that calls in will immediately be recorded. When the caller calls in the next time, it’s easier for the host to immediately call out their name on the air. “Oh, it’s our older sister, Ms. Chen from Gushan!” “It’s Big Wu from Gangshan!” or “It’s Auntie Huang the lian-bu farmer!” This kind of pseudo-communal neighborly way of recognizing people makes each person on the air feel accepted, creating a solid group of supporters based around a host.

From online jukebox to offline social networks

Taiwanese radio stations run two kinds of these social networks: suann-ting (“online”) refers to publicly broadcasted chit-chats the hosts have with listeners, while suann-kha (“offline”) refers to group phone chats that are off the air after the programming is over.

In the suann-ting time segment, in order to draw in listeners, the host will very gladly chat with everyone who calls in. For example, on Kaohsiung’s local 91.7 Voice of the Village (鄉土之聲) station, The show “The Tua-khing Club” (大慶俱樂部) airs from 3:00-5:00 pm. Tua-tshing, the host, is very humorous and he especially likes to use innuendos and risqué or lewd talk on the air. Many grannies and aunties will use the excuse of buying products to call in and cut themselves loose or allow him to cut in and have a good laugh with him.

These radio show fan bases are extremely tight-knit because the radio hosts and listeners have an ongoing relationship. Think about it for a second; to buy medication over the phone, without a prescription by a doctor, one has to have some level of trust with the radio station and hosts.

Put another way, these radio show hosts are just like popular YouTubers or Instagram influencers; they not only have a following, but whatever they say will be more easily accepted by their audience.

The other part to these radio shows consists of playing songs on the air. These radio shows all encourage listeners to call in and put in song requests. Some hosts might even insist on playing all Taiwanese songs and no Mandarin songs, like Golden Voice Radio’s 4:00-6:00 pm time slot “Love Taiwan: You, Me, Them” hosted by Ms. Bun-hong. But the majority of programs have a mix of songs sung in both languages. After all, our generation grew up listening to Mandarin songs sung by Fong Fei-fei, Bao Na-na, and Hsieh Lei.

Upwards of 80 to 90 percent of these Taiwanese language radio stations play Taiwanese songs by artists from the 1960’s such as Tan Hun-lan (Chen Fen-lan), Iu Nga (You Ya), and the latest generation of artists such as Chiao You, Chan Ya-wen, Shang Ming, Tsai Yi-teh, etc… Almost all the Mandarin songs on these radio stations come from before the 1980’s. I’ve very rarely heard any post-1980s Mandarin pop songs on these stations if at all.

Chinese influence on a grassroots level

But in the recent half year or so, I’ve discovered something peculiar. I started hearing pop songs from China on certain radio programs. In the beginning they played songs from China that were already viral in Taiwan, such as “You’re my Little Apple;” but gradually I started to hear several songs that I’ve never heard before.

One day, I was listening pretty closely to the lyrics, and looked up the song when I could. To my surprise, they were from a song called “Taking the Train to Lhasa.” How would a Taiwanese grandma or grandpa request a song like that? The host said that it was picked by an older gentleman, which was just very hard to believe.

Many people think that Taiwanese language radio stations only serve as home shopping networks for their elderly relatives, but they haven’t paid enough attention to the political force making its way into these airwaves. One night this May, the host of another program on Voice of the Village was discussing his “exchange” with a certain radio station in Shanghai. That radio host touched upon differences between the Shanghai and Kaohsiung stations, and said he was surprised that the radio host from Shanghai only had to be on air an hour a day, because the rest of the day was spent doing administrative work.

Only then did I realize, China’s sharp power extends all the way to a small Taiwanese radio station in southern Taiwan!

On the night of May 31st, the day before Han Kuo-Yu went to Taipei to announce his running for president, the Tua-khing Club started to bat for Han on the program. The host said, “Right now, Kaohsiung isn’t doing so well because the central government is blocking us, and that’s why Mayor Han needs to become president, and then we can right the ship. Han Kuo-yu is a very talented man, and we need to support him.”

This is a real-life example of how China is forcing its way into Taiwanese-language radio. It’s nearly the same as what Prof. Shen Po-yang said about the manipulation of online communities. It starts from Chinese entities buying or infiltrating Taiwanese Facebook pages and groups that have nothing to do with politics, and then steering the conversation in their favor. These outlets then become a power tool to influence election results. It used to take two or three years to go through an internet group to have that kind of success, but now one can quickly take over a popular website by spending a big sum of money.

But now, China is pushing its way into the most grassroots levels our society via these Taiwanese language radio stations. This method is much quicker and simpler. As long as you can buy out the board of directors of a radio station, you can go very far in directly influencing the Taiwanese electorate. These broadcast programs have long been a place for die-hard listeners, who are locked into tight social support networks. It doesn’t take much to redirect their political leaning and preferences.

What’s even more disconcerting is that we have not a single idea how these shady dealings began. If Taiwan’s government doesn’t do anything to prevent this kind of political intrusion, Taiwan’s democracy will slip away faster than we can imagine.