Chiang needs Wanhua reality check

During a tour of Taipei’s Wanhua District (萬華) on Sept. 22, Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) proposed a seemingly appealing urban-planning vision for the area: linking Xinfu Market (新富市場), East Sanshui Street Market (東三水街市場), Longshan Temple (龍山寺), Bopiliao Historical Block (剝皮寮歷史街區), Bangka Park (艋舺公園), the underground mall and surrounding commercial areas through neighborhood redevelopment and environmental improvements, while encouraging specialty and boutique business. It would create what Chiang called Taipei’s version of Omotesando — an upscale, tree-lined boulevard and shopping district in Tokyo — to attract young people and international tourists.

The idea is not new. More than NT$200 million (US$6.28 million) has already been invested in the redevelopment of Bangka Park, and the city government has previously invoked Tokyo’s Omotesando as a vision for the area.

There is no question that Wanhua deserves a makeover. The issue is whether the mayor’s words are grounded in the reality of what Wanhua needs and is ready for.

Just five days before Chiang’s proclamation, Wanhua police carried out a “cleanup operation” targeting prostitution on Xichang Street. Eighteen suspected illegal sex workers and two people suspected of soliciting prostitutes were detained; 10 of them had overstayed their visas.

Pointing out the arrests is not to stigmatize Wanhua, nor to overlook its rich history and culture. Rather, it is a reminder to the Chiang administration that urban renewal is not easily achieved.

When parts of Wanhua are still grappling with aging buildings, environmental quality issues, prostitution and public safety concerns, what the city government should be prioritizing is improving living conditions, enhancing public safety and promoting urban renewal in a way that ensures residents and businesses benefit together. That requires a system of urban governance. Without it, the contrast between the glossy slogan of “Omotesando” and the reality of Wanhua is made even more glaring.

Slogans and policies move quickly through Chiang’s administration, but preliminary assessments do not keep pace. In August, as part of Taipei’s smoke-free city initiative, metal-barred smoking areas installed in areas such as Gongguan (公館) sparked immediate backlash over their appearance, function and integration with the surrounding environment.

Less than a month after their installation, all seven of the barriers, which each cost NT$149,000, were removed. Chiang said that if facilities did not meet actual needs, they should be reviewed and adjusted, and that the city would establish a unified site-review mechanism.

That is precisely the issue: Why did the city only realize after the fact that a basic review of location, appearance and the surrounding environment might be necessary? Public policy must certainly be open to revision, but public funds are not the mayor’s pocket money for endless trial and error.

What residents should be asking is not how nice Chiang’s Wanhua idea sounds, but how thoroughly planned it actually is.

Where would it be redeveloped? How much would be invested? What would the construction schedule be? How might prostitution and public-safety problems be addressed? How would aging blocks be renewed? How would transportation, pedestrian environments and commercial districts be integrated? Would residents and traditional markets be squeezed out by commercialization?

Without answers to these basic questions and with a city government rushing to hang an “Omotesando” sign over Wanhua, residents have every reason to be worried. The risk is that announcements are made and money is spent, only for an issue to be discovered the next day, followed by a review and then more money being spent to tear down what had already been started.

A project of this magnitude needs a city government capable of thinking things through before construction.

Chiang might have the ambition to transform Wanhua, and the district certainly deserves public infrastructure commensurate with its historical importance. However, one of the greatest taboos of urban governance is to treat a vision alone as an achievement.

Tokyo’s Omotesando only became what it is through decades of urban design, commercial activity, transportation infrastructure and neighborhood development. Wanhua has little reason to copy Omotesando; it is one of the most historically rich parts of Taipei and a fundamentally different case. Before anything else, Chiang should first endeavor to get Wanhua’s governance right. Otherwise, residents have reason to question whether this is another case on Chiang’s municipal agenda destined for the cycle of slogans, spending and backtracking.