By Unu (Atayal, Amis) and Gordon Low
They win. They hustle. They play with heart. But when Taiwan’s baseball players step onto the world stage, the name across their chest tells a different story. To most sports fans, the fact that Taiwan competes under the name “Chinese Taipei” might seem like a technicality or confusing why two Chinese teams exist. But for the athletes, and for millions of Taiwanese people, it’s something far more serious: it’s a compromise made to challenge the national identity of who they are and what country they play for.
A free exhibition called Not Chinese Taipei 可以不中華嗎? is coming to Toronto TAIWANfest and aims to change that conversation. Running from noon to 6 p.m. on Saturday (August 23) and Sunday (August 24) at North Orchard at Harbourfront Centre, it dives into Taiwan’s proud, century-long baseball history and asks the one important, unavoidable question: without political interference, what should we call the team name?
Foul strikeout: no home name
Taiwan is no stranger to baseball greatness. The sport has been woven into its cultural fabric for nearly a hundred years. From the legendary Kano team of the 1930s, which defied expectations in Japan’s Koshien tournament, to the island’s domination of Little League Baseball in the 1970s and ’80s, Taiwan has built a reputation as a nation that lives and breathes the game. Today, Taiwanese players like Chien-Ming Wang (New York Yankees and other teams), Chen Wei-Yin (Baltimore Orioles and Miami Marlins), and rising stars like Yu Chang have left an influential mark in Major League Baseball.
Every time a Taiwanese player makes it big abroad, the country rallies in pride. But here’s the catch: in most global tournaments, their country’s name is stripped away. Due to a compromise agreement in the 1979 Nagoya Resolution, a diplomatic workaround was made to have Taiwan compete in the Olympics and other major international sports competitions without angering Beijing, which claims Taiwan as part of its territory.
On paper, the agreement solved a political problem for the Chinese government. However, for Taiwanese athletes especially of indigenous background and the fans, it creates a lasting identity crisis where the team has no cultural or geographic clarity. It is, in every sense, a nation competing without representation.
As of World Baseball Classic, Taiwan still can’t play as “Taiwan”
The road to the 2026 World Baseball Classic (WBC) began in February 2025 with the qualifying tournament and for Taiwan’s baseball team, the journey was anything but ordinary. This year’s 28-man roster stood out not only for its skill but also for its diversity. Thirteen of its players were Indigenous Taiwanese, representing several of the island’s vibrant Indigenous nations, including the Amis, Bunun, Paiwan, and Truku peoples.
In Taiwan, Indigenous athletes have long been central to the country’s baseball history, often excelling at the sport and bringing a unique dynamism to the national team. Their participation in the qualifiers was a reminder that Taiwan’s baseball identity is multi-layered, rooted in generations of players from different ethnic and cultural backgrounds. It’s an identity that blends colonial history, Indigenous heritage, Japanese influence, and modern Taiwanese pride.
Despite the roster’s strength and diversity, Taiwan still entered the WBC qualifiers under a name that wasn’t truly its own: “Chinese Taipei”. The label, imposed by political agreements like the Nagoya Resolution, remains a constant reminder of the geopolitical pressures that Taiwan faces on the international stage.
For the players, this isn’t a bureaucratic formality. Competing under “Chinese Taipei” means they cannot carry the flag, name, or anthem of the nation they represent. Even as they strive to win for Taiwan, they must do so wearing a name that blurs or distorts team identity.
The Taiwanese team’s performance in the February qualifiers left no doubt about their abilities. With precision pitching, aggressive base-running, and clutch hitting, they powered their way through the tournament, securing their spot in the 2026 WBC in-conference stage, where they will face 19 other national teams next year. It was a victory that Taiwanese fans at home and abroad celebrated with passion. Social media lit up with messages of support, videos of watch parties, and highlight reels of big plays.
Yet, much of the international media coverage referred only to “Chinese Taipei”, leaving casual fans unaware that they were watching Taiwan in action. This isn’t just about baseball. The team’s journey echoes other stories in the sport where recognition, representation, and dignity have been at stake.
Watch this Heritage Minute sharing the story of the Vancouver Asahi.
The “home run” connection: Asahi and Cleveland
The Vancouver Asahi, a Japanese Canadian baseball team active from 1914 until their forced disbandment after the 1941 season due to the internment of Japanese Canadians during the Second World War, came to embody both athletic excellence and the perseverance of a marginalized community. Their name and style of play became intertwined with an enduring story of resistance against systemic racism in Canada, later recognized through cultural preservation efforts, museum exhibits, and film adaptations.
In the United States, the case of Cleveland’s Major League Baseball franchise demonstrates how sports institutions can and must evolve when names no longer align with the values of the communities they represent. After decades of criticism from Indigenous communities and allies for perpetuating stereotypes, the franchise abandoned its long-contested name in 2021, becoming the Cleveland Guardians. This decision underscored the role of public pressure, advocacy, and historical reckoning in transforming how sports teams negotiate identity in a changing social landscape.
In Taiwan, however, the question of naming remains unresolved. The national baseball team, despite representing a distinct cultural and political identity, is still required to compete internationally under the name “Chinese Taipei” due to geopolitical pressure. This designation erases the island’s historical narrative and undermines the visibility of its diverse players, including a significant number of Indigenous athletes whose communities have shaped Taiwan’s baseball tradition for generations. Unlike the Asahi and the Guardians, where change either emerged from necessity or activism, Taiwan’s case exposes the limits of self-representation in global sports when political realities outweigh the will of athletes and fans.
Ending the game in victory for whose team?
In the end, Taiwan’s baseball story is not just about home runs, strikeouts, or final scores. It is about the right to be seen, heard, and named as who you truly are. From the historic Kano team to today’s World Baseball Classic roster filled with Indigenous talent, Taiwanese baseball continues to showcase resilience and unity in the face of political constraints.
Just like the Vancouver Asahi once proved that sports could transcend prejudice, Taiwan’s team reminds us that identity is not a technicality, it is the heartbeat of the game. Every time “Chinese Taipei” steps onto the field, it’s worth asking: when will the world let them play as who they really are?
Unu (Atayal, Amis) and Gordon Low are co-curators of a Toronto TAIWANfest free exhibition called Not Chinese Taipei 可以不中華嗎. It’s at North Orchard at Harbourfront Centre from noon to 6 p.m. on Saturday (August 23) and Sunday (August 24). For more information, visit the Toronto TAIWANfest website. Learn more about diverse communities from the Toronto Spark website. Follow the Toronto Spark on X @TOSparkOfficial and Bluesky @torontospark.bsky.social.
