The author is the secretary general of the WildView Taiwan Nature Communication Society.

Last July, when Formosan black bear cub Nan-an found herself in great difficulty (having strayed from her mother), I happened to be at the Forestry Bureau’s Hualien District Office.

When hearing this story, some people regard it as a disaster, while others see it as an opportunity. At the time, I felt it was the latter, although now it seems it was a bit closer to the former.

In the beginning, the Hualien District Office decided to cordon off the trail and wait until a bear parent showed up to escort the cub back. Back then, this was the best way of dealing with the situation. When the black bear cub couldn’t find her way back and her health became precarious, the rangers decided to bring her back to the station to look after her because they had no other choice.

If we look at the situation from the standpoint of “rescue from disaster,” the more likely outcome would be keeping the baby bear in a sheltered enclosure, but obviously a majority felt subsequently that an opportunity presented itself here.

Therefore, they subjected Nan-an to a nine-months-long training for reintroduction into the wild before recently releasing her. So far, her condition remains good.

As for the turmoil during the reintroduction process, I believe that little black bear Nan-an was dragged into the spotlight of the traditional and social media, temporarily even exceeding the presidential hopefuls in popularity, because of her “successful conservation.”

Almost 30 years ago, when I was just beginning to get into nature conservation work, this would have been entirely unimaginable. But what I can reaffirm is that, when facing a challenge, one only needs to seize the opportunity to move forward one step at a time.

In the early 1990s, Taiwan faced the first wave of international pressure over nature conservation issues as conservation groups from the United States and Britain denounced Taiwan over the trade in rhino horn and tiger bone. Trade sanctions under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES) and the Pelly Amendment [to the U.S. Fishermen’s Protective Act] drew widespread attention across the island.

Taking advantage of this trend, conservation work took off, leading to stronger controls in wild animal and plant protection.

At the time, television sets made in Taiwan were quite well-known. The campaign video produced by the Environmental Investigation Agency and other conservation groups featured one such TV set, showing footage of peacefully grazing rhinos.

As the TV screen slowly rotates away from the audience to the sound of gunshots and squealing rhinos, red blood gushes out from its side and back. As the camera zooms in on the Made in Taiwan label it morphs into Made in Diewan, thus portraying Taiwan as the “isle of death” for illegally traded wildlife.

For most people in Taiwan, this message was truly appalling; after all who was consuming rhino horn in their daily lives, and who had ever seen tiger bone? You could also argue that “most Taiwanese are decent people!”

However, the monitoring of international trade has without doubt exposed some evil practices hiding in the dark corners of society. As one of Asia’s four dragons and a modern, industrialized country, Taiwan certainly needed to reexamine certain traditional notions with a completely new attitude.

Back then, I had just joined a nature conservation civic group, and, as a junior member, I did not have much professional training aside from having some ideals. But I drew considerable inspiration from seeing the members of international conservation groups speak out for the sake of justice and argue strongly for what is right. This bolstered my confidence in my own work and allowed me to learn systematic, strategic approaches to conservation work. Honestly, I got even more out of this.

In an unprecedented move, the Clinton administration invoked the Pelly Amendment in 1994, imposing trade sanctions on Taiwan. However, after the concerted efforts of Taiwan’s government, the business community and non-government organizations provided a passable track record, U.S. Interior Secretary Bruce Babbitt and U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for Oceans and International Environmental and Scientific Affairs Eileen Claussen praised Taiwan at a joint new conference in September of 1996 for its good results in wildlife protection over the past three years.

At the same time, Babbitt announced that Taiwan’s “certification” under the Pelly Amendment [for undermining international efforts to protect endangered species] was officially lifted and that it no longer remained on the watchlist.

Taiwan’s efforts comprised three main areas:

1. Within the short span of three years, a principled Wildlife Conservation Act and its Enforcement Rules had been drawn up. At the same time, the government aggressively cracked down on illegal trade in wild animal products and poaching in accordance with the law, and brought offenders to justice.

2. The implementation of a full-fledged wildlife protection education campaign

 3. Active participation and sponsoring of international wildlife protection activities. The idea was that Taiwan’s successful example could serve as model for other Asian countries.

In other words, Taiwan completed a “modernization” milestone in nature conservation during this period, which also allowed it to change its negative offender image into that of a positive role model. Without doubt, it was precisely because our government and the private sector seized this challenge and used it as an opportunity for transformation that conservation efforts in Taiwan could turn bitter fruit sweet.

Regarding protection of the black-faced spoonbill, Taiwan would even become a regional leader in such matters. (Read: Taiwan's Future Leaders Adding Substance to the Environmental Movement)

On April 12, 1992, [Taiwanese poet and conservationist] Liu Ka-shiang published an article in the China Times supplement titled “The last black-faced dancer.” It began as follows:

“Four years ago, when the headquarters of the Wild Bird Federation Taiwan was located in a small, quiet alley off Fuxing South Road in Taipei, the federation received an unexpected letter from Hong Kong. The sender was Peter R. Kennerley, a member of the Hong Kong Bird Watching Society.”

At the time, the Wild Bird Federation Taiwan, which I would later join, had just been founded, but its members were committed to their mission. Kennerley had sent his letter because he wanted to know more about the habitat of the black-faced spoonbill in Taiwan.

It was my good friend, physician Tsao Mei-hua, who helped sort the information and write a response. She gathered Taiwan’s first records on the black-faced spoonbill, using her personal connections among bird enthusiasts, listing a total of 150 birds. Only when she received the Hong Kong Bird Report 1989 a short while later did she learn that just 288 birds had been recorded in all of Asia.

As it turned out, the mouth of the Tsengwen River in southern Taiwan, where bird lovers Kuo Chung-cheng and Kou Tung-hui from Tainan had discovered a group of black-faced spoonbills, was the largest and most important winter habitat in the world for this rare migratory bird species.

On September 30, 1991, the Tainan County Government officially submitted an application to the Ministry Interior earmarking this major black-faced spoonbill habitat as land for industrial use.

While the publication of Liu’s article in the China Times supplement had drawn public attention, unfortunately more than 520 empty bullet shell casings were discovered scattered in the bird habitat on November 29, 1992, and at least 20 black-faced spoonbills were found injured or killed, overshadowing actions to protect the black-faced spoonbill from the very beginning.

However, these dark times also paved the way for a brighter future.

In the summer of 1994, I represented the Wild Bird Federation Taiwan at the BirdLife International World Conference in Germany and signed an agreement for the federation to become a Birdlife Partner. I brought a brochure with me that introduced birdwatching in Taiwan and put together information about the black-faced spoonbill for distribution at the conference.

When [bird and conservation expert] Dr. Lucia Liu Severinghaus, who had travelled with me, suggested at a subconference for the Asia region that an action plan for the protection of the black-faced spoonbill be drawn up, this triggered global interest in Taiwan’s black-faced spoonbill population.

In January of 1995, Dr. Liu Severinghaus, then president of the Wild Bird Federation Taiwan, launched a week-long drafting meeting, inviting six international experts to join intensive discussions. The meet concluded with the presentation of a 75-page Action Plan for the Black-faced Spoonbill that covered China, Hong Kong, Japan, North Korea, the Philippines, South Korea, Taiwan, Thailand and Vietnam, and would become the most important action plan for the protection of the black-faced spoonbill in Asia in the 1990s.

In Taiwan, more people became involved in the protection of these birds, not only thwarting the Binnan Industrial Park project but also saving the natural scenery of Taiwan’s southwestern coast from being plastered with chimneys. Had this not happened, the air quality in southern Taiwan would be even worse today.

The protection of the grey-faced buzzard in Taiwan can be traced back to 1977, when conservation efforts were launched with assistance from Japanese bird lovers to stop the export of tens of thousands of specimens per year.

Yet, on October 13, 2001, 30 to 40 dead grey-faced buzzards, found abandoned under Lide Bridge in Manzhou Township in Pingtung County, were used to demonstrate the gravity of the problem. Having just assumed the position of secretary general at the newly registered non-governmental Raptor Research Group of Taiwan, I took an interview with Taiwanese writer Chang Ta-chuen, who asked me how to respond aside from emphasizing our conservationist stance. Practically left speechless, I could only state with bravado: “We will know this time next year.”

In the early 21st century, there still exists harsh conflict between nature conservation and our way of life. The “buzzard abandonment” incident was one outcome of this exacerbating struggle. How can we make all sides talk to each other? Perhaps we need to address the crux of the problem.

After all, it was not possible to directly engage hunters in reasoned dialogue, so we tried to communicate with the hunters’ children and their neighbors.

We obtained funding support from the Council of Cultural Affairs (since renamed the Ministry of Culture) to stage the “grasslands” play “Eagles Fly Slowly” with fifth graders at Manzhou Elementary School. The play was to be performed [outdoors on grasslands] at events in Pingtung and at the Taipei International Birdwatching Fair. The Council of Agriculture’s Conservation Section (now the Forestry Bureau’s Conservation Division) also provided subsidies that were used to produce a wooden signboard for an “Eagle Chic Store” and event souvenirs.

Eventually, we hosted the Langjiao Eagle Festival (Langjiao is an ancient name for Hengchun), an event that still takes place every year, with massive support from the Kenting National Park Headquarters. What started out as a simple “Kenting Birdwatching” activity has since become a tourism event covering the entire Hengchun Peninsula.

More than a decade later, I ran into some of the kids who had participated in the play. They had all become teachers at Manzhou elementary school. As one would expect, they still had vivid, unforgettable memories of their trip to Taipei, including the subway, fast food  and the fact that all goods in the local family stores were bought up during the event period.

Most importantly, buzzard meat, a traditional food in the area, never again made it onto the family dinner table after the kids performed their play, which means that our new path to communication was working.

Through eco-tourism, the local community also gradually took over our nature conservation and education campaign work. After working as guides during the day, they felt somewhat uneasy when going to hunt for birds at night. As a result, they slowly changed their lifestyle.

Although it took more than 40 years for our grey-faced buzzard protection work to yield concrete results, it has also become a model for success that is highly regarded in international conservation circles.

As challenges are thrown at us like high-speed baseball pitches, we who are standing in the batter’s box are deeply aware that this is a one-time opportunity. There is no need to wait cautiously for a good pitch; we need to hit the ball no matter whether it is a good ball or a bad one, or else we won’t to be able to get ahead.

Without doubt, we were given a very good opportunity this time to carry out and complete the practical work pertaining to the release into the wild of a protected wild animal. We have certainly gained valuable experience from it.

I am sure that, when looking back, inappropriate, unexpected episodes will turn into major junctions that remind us that things don’t always go that smoothly, and that people do not always think along the same lines. Even in a disaster, we just need to seize the opportunity with the right, proactive attitude to achieve breakthroughs instead of taking two steps back.

Translated by Susanne Ganz
Edited by Sharon Tseng