Tag Archives: transitional justice

Open letter to the President of NCCU

Photo by Ken Marshall, flickr (Creative Commons licence)

The following letter, which I co-wrote with Ben Goren, was published in the Taipei Times today. Addressed to Edward Chow, the President of National Chengchi University, it calls on the university to change the school anthem and make greater efforts to align the university’s values with the pluralistic democracy of contemporary Taiwan rather than paying homage to the historical party-state.

As alumni of National Chengchi University (NCCU), we have followed the news about students boycotting the school anthem during a university choir competition with great interest (“Students boycott ‘outdated’ anthem,” Dec. 6, page 3).

We would like to make a public call to NCCU president Edward Chow.

We applaud and stand with the students who want to change the anachronistic anthem with a song that reflects Taiwan’s democratic values and seeks to establish the political neutrality necessary for the school to be taken seriously as an international institution.

NCCU was established in Nanjing and was re-established in Taipei. Throughout much of its history in China and Taiwan it has functioned as a training ground for bureaucrats of an authoritarian party-state.

Thankfully, Taiwan has moved on from the dark days of the White Terror era to embrace democratic values. Yet, sadly, it appears many administrators at NCCU are still resisting attempts to realign the values and ethos of the school with the evolution of Taiwan into a nation defined by pluralism, freedom of speech and transitional justice.

NCCU could be at the forefront of the efforts to “decolonize” public institutions of moribund political ideologies.

That it avoids this responsibility continues to hurt its reputation and taints its academic output with the stigma of unprofessional partisanship.

NCCU should no longer project an image of being a school for training students to serve the party-state. Instead, it should promote itself as being at the forefront of advocating democratic values.

It needs to encourage its students to develop critical analysis and leadership skills, essential for Taiwan’s continuing democratization. It also needs to cultivate the skills and the perspective needed to operate in an increasingly interconnected and complex international environment.

NCCU’s school anthem should be updated to show that Taiwan has a multi-party democratic system. It needs to strip its campus of structural and symbolic homages to its historical origins, and its role as a crude mechanism for legitimizing and reaffirming the state.

It should instill a vision for the university as a leader in the promotion of democratic values in Taiwan and beyond.

The administration of NCCU is standing on the wrong side of history. They need to catch up with the times.

David Reid and Ben Goren

Tears and transitional justice

I saw Tears (眼淚) last year at the Golden Horse Film Festival. My review is posted at the end of this article. The movie is officially released in Taiwan today. The movie tells the story of Guo, an old policeman who employs some unethical policing methods and eventually has to face up to his past.

The movie is being widely discussed in Taiwan for its theme of transitional justice. I have selected a couple of articles on the topic and translated part of them. In the Liberty Times (自由時報) Wang Dan (王丹), who recently spent six months in Taiwan as a visiting professor at NCCU, wrote:

做為「轉型正義」三部曲的第一部,鄭文堂並沒有去處理白色恐怖這個政治性的轉型正義議題,而是從員警執法的 社會層面入手,我認為這是很值得肯定的努力。關於轉型正義的議題,我一向認為過去的討論太政治化,反而不利於這個議題的深入進行。其實在社會層面,也有很多轉型正義的面向要去處理,這些面向涉及的是人性和人與人之間的關係的問題,因而來 得更加復雜。同時,這也是政府和國家權力無從處理,而需要公民社會本身來處理的問題。

In the first of a trilogy of films about transitional justice, Cheng Wen-tang didn’t deal with the issue of the White Terror period. Instead he began by looking at how the police enforce the law in society. I think this is a commendable effort. With regard to the topic of transitional justice I always believe the discussion in the past was too politicised and it’s not really favorable to discussing this topic deeply. Actually at the social level there are many issues of transitional justice that need to be faced. These involve human nature and the problems in relations between people. As a result they are more complex. At the same time this is something that the government or the power of the state can’t manage. It requires the citizens and society itself to manage.

Freddy Lim has an article about the film on his blog:

像老郭一樣的老警察、老法官、老檢調們,台灣市面上不知道還有多少,他們可能像老郭一樣進行著一個人的贖罪,也可能毫無愧疚地過著自由自在的生活;威權政 府下的受害者,成千上萬像小雯一樣的底層人民,每天都在掙扎著。這是民主國家「轉型正義」工程要處理的課題,然而,台灣政府的轉型正義工作還沒開始,就已 經結束。所幸,電影工作者用一部好電影,提醒著台灣,我們還有一件事情沒有解決。

No one knows how many old policeman like Guo and old judges and prosecutors there are in Taiwan. Like Guo they might be experiencing judgment for their crimes or they might be living their lives feeling not the least bit guilty about what they have done wrong. Countless people like Xiao Wen [the betel nut beauty in the movie] make up the society and face struggles every day. This is the problem of transitional justice that a democratic country needs to deal with. However, the work of transitional justice by the Taiwan government still hasn’t started, it’s already over. Fortunately a filmmaker’s work reminds Taiwan that it still has some matters that haven’t been resolved.

For those who can understand Mandarin check out this video on YouTube with Freddy Lim, T.C. Chang (張鐵志), former DPP legislator Lin Cho-shui (林濁水) and executive director of the Judicial Reform Foundation Lin Feng-jeng (林峰正) talking about the movie.


A tough police drama – movie review

Doris and Enno play betel nut girls in the movieTears (眼淚) directed by Cheng Wen-tang (鄭文堂) is a tough and gritty police drama. The style is quite a contrast to Cheng’s previous film, the teen romance Summer’s Tail (夏天的尾巴), which I reviewed earlier.

Enno Cheng (鄭宜農) plays Xiao Wen, a betel nut beauty who works alongside Xuan Xuan played by Doris Yeh of ChthoniC. Enno’s previous acting role was in Summer’s Tail but Tears puts her in a far more challenging role and she acts with much more maturity and range.

The other main character is Guo, the old detective, played by Tsai Chen-nan (蔡振南). Guo is a tough and wily police officer who wants to show his younger colleagues how things are done. He doesn’t always play by the rules, but is revealed as a complex and sensitive character as the plot develops.

The plot revolves around Guo working on the case of a young woman killed by a drug overdose. Guo is determined to solve the case while his colleagues become increasingly distanced from him and his sometimes unethical policing methods.

The film raises some important points about how police do their work — the issues are not just unique to Taiwan but common in many countries. More broadly it also engages with social issues looking at people on the margins of society — drug addicts, drug dealers, betel nut beauties — and the way police interact with them.

The film is set in Kaohsiung with many of the scenes shot in abandoned areas and run down buildings.  Most of the dialogue is in Hoklo Taiwanese. The cinematography is also well done with the camera kept in sharp focus on the actors.

Tears is a great police drama. It’s tough and smart like Guo in the leading role.

Justice For All Concert in Pingtung

Aphasia on stage at the concert in Pingtung

The 2010 Justice For All Concert (正義無敵音樂會) was held in Pingtung yesterday. I arrived at the venue in the mid-afternoon while the bands were still doing their sound checks. The venue was a park in the Pingdong Sugar Factory — a big grassy area surrounded by palm trees with a banyan tree providing some nice shade.

Crowd at the Justice for All concert in Pingtung

In the late afternoon the crowd began to build as the first band Windmill (風籟坊) took to the stage. Windmill’s Hoklo rock was followed by the Hakka folk of Lin Sheng-xiang (林生祥). Sheng-xiang is well known as a protest singer and lives in Meinong, not far from Pingtung.

Aphasia performing at the Justice for All concert

Next up was one of my favorite bands Aphasia (阿飛西雅). Their post-rock music contains no lyrics, but the inside cover of their album The Crocodile Society of Aphasia says, “Not having words doesn’t mean not having ideas” (沒有語言 不代表沒有意見). Their music evokes powerful emotions and in between songs Luxia Wu often makes some strong statements on the theme of justice.

After Aphasia’s set Freddy Lim made a speech mentioning that last year they didn’t organise a concert for 228 but this year they decided to do it again. Before it had always been in Taipei but if it was in Taipei every year that would be “boring”. This year they were able to get sponsorship from the Pingtung County Government. He said he hopes to hold the concert in other places around Taiwan in the future. Freddy also said that every year around 228 many people say that young people don’t love Taiwan. However, that’s not right. Young people really love Taiwan and events like this are a way of showing it.

LTK Commune performing at the Justice for All concert

The next bands were Hoklo punk artists LTK Commune (濁水溪公社) and Kaohsiung punk band Fire-Ex (滅火器). Last but not least ChthoniC (閃靈) appeared in their full make-up. Their latest album Mirror of Retribution is based on a story related to 228, so it was very appropriate that they performed songs from it on this occasion.

Freddy Lim performing with ChthoniC at the Justice for All concert

Green Island experience

I participated in a “Human Rights Camp” on Green Island from 19-22 July 2009. The article that follows contains some of my thoughts after returning.

green island coastal scenery

When the boat arrived at Green Island (綠島) my first impression was that the island was incredibly green, verdant, a rich tropical paradise. Most people come to the island for a holiday, but I was here to join the “Human Rights Camp” (綠島人權之路青年營) along with sixty other students and a group of teachers and former political prisoners. It was a different experience of Green Island, but it was incredible and something I will never forget.

Entrance to graveyard on Green Island

After arriving at the Gongguan Primary School we walked across to the “13 zhong dui” (十三中隊). This was the grave yard on the island for those prisoners who never had the chance to leave. Some of the elders came to the front and spoke about their friends and sang songs in tribute to them. We observed a minute’s silence and before leaving we laid white lilies on the graves. It was a very sobering experience and a very direct reminder that some people made the ultimate sacrifice.

On returning to the Gongguan Primary School we began the intensive program of talks and lectures to learn more about the White Terror period. It began with watching the documentary “White Terror Witness” (白色見證) and then was followed by a lecture on White Terror in the 1950s. Some of the elders then spoke directly about their experience. The point that stuck most in my mind was that those who were arrested only had minimal involvement in political activities. However, they were given harsh sentences without any proper trial.

On the morning of the second day we again walked out past the graveyard, this time to visit the Swallow Cave (燕子洞). Here the elders spoke about how they put on shows in the cave including a play about Koxinga (國姓爺). Next we went to visit the prison of the 1950s and learn about the prisoners’ experience of that time.

Green Island prison cell

The program continued in the afternoon, looking at White Terror in the 1960s. After the lectures we went to visit the prison used in the 1960s. In one of the prison cells Mr. Tsai explained about how the prisoners’ conditions were at that time. The rooms at that time didn’t have such big windows or good ventilation. The toilet space was smaller and the men had to use the toilet to shower in. 15 people were kept in a single cell and had to sleep head to toe. One student asked Mr. Tsai what the prisoners talked about during the day. Mr. Tsai said that many of the prisoners were university professors or professionals. They had a lot of knowledge that they could share and teach the others. He also said that sometimes they sang songs. He broke into a rendition of “We shall overcome”. It was truly moving to hear this powerful song and how it resonated through the prison walls. It was as if it was echoing into the past. The extraordinarily strong spirit the men showed in enduring the terrible conditions did overcome. Their presence there today, and their freedom, was testimony to this.

In the evening we had the chance to talk with the elders in small groups. We had already had the chance to hear about their experiences on Green Island, but our group asked them more about their lives after they left Green Island. The positive spirit they showed in the prison continued throughout their lives. Although they faced difficulties in life they had a great determination. I admire the amazing spirit of the elders. They can teach us so many important lessons about life.

The third day began with watching the movie “Super Citizen Ko” (超級大國民). Most of the dialogue in this film was in Hoklo Taiwanese, but I was very grateful that one of the members of the group helped translate some parts of the movie so I could understand the main ideas. The movie was followed by a talk about representations of White Terror in Taiwanese cinema. Mr. Chen, one of the former prisoners mentioned that in “Super Citizen Ko” they depicted a prisoner walking to execution in silence. However, he said that actually when a prisoner was going to be executed their would be singing and making a lot of noise.

In the afternoon second and third generation family members of political prisoners talked about how they were affected by their parents and grandparents’ experience. This helped me to understand how White Terror affected the families of political prisoners and continues to be felt in the present by younger generations.

Another lecture followed on the topic of transitional justice, although a key point was that Taiwan had experienced transitional injustice. Taiwan has a long way to go if it is to experience transitional justice, but it is very important to ensure democracy. So far Taiwan has been very successful in holding elections at every level, but other aspects of democracy are still weak.

Musician Panai performing at Green Island

The final evening saw a wonderful variety of musical performances. The elders sang with their typical exuberance. The evening closed with a powerful performance by Panai (巴奈) and her husband Nabu (那布). Before leaving on the final day we all went to the human rights memorial for the closing ceremony. Certificates were presented and each group gave a small performance. While it was the end of the camp, I was sure that many of us will continue to meet again in the future.

Before I went on the trip to Green Island I already knew something about White Terror. I understood some of the reasons why Chiang Kai-shek acted as he did and knew about some of the important acts of resistance. The big picture is one thing, but the most important lesson I learnt from Green Island and the elders was that every person involved in the White Terror had a story to tell. White Terror affected the political prisoners and their families in a myriad of ways and it continues to reverberate in the present. We must not just try to learn history, but try to learn as much of possible of everybody’s story. A key to transitional justice is understanding the past and ensuring that the same mistakes are not repeated in the future.

中文版:綠島經驗

Transitional justice in Taiwan and Germany

*This article was originally published in DianMo Nr. 5 2009.

Transitional justice is a major challenge facing states that make a transition from authoritarianism to democracy. Huntington writes that transitional justice in third wave countries is little affected by legal and moral considerations. “It was shaped almost exclusively by politics, by the nature of the democratization process, and by the distribution of political power both during and after the transition.”

The experiences of Taiwan and East Germany, which both emerged from authoritarianism in the late 1980s, make for an interesting contrast and illustrate Huntington’s thesis. Martial Law ended in Taiwan in July 1987. Although the KMT might have slightly relaxed its grip on power at that time it certainly didn’t give it up. A blacklist preventing foreign and exiled Taiwanese dissidents from entering Taiwan was maintained until 1992. A number of violent incidents and large scale protests occurred in this period. It was the March 1990 Wild Lily protest that led to President Lee convening a National Affairs Conference and the Taiwanese were finally able to elect the representatives of the National Assembly in December 1991. The first direct Presidential election took place in 1996 with the incumbent Lee Teng-hui winning a majority of the vote.

Taiwan experienced a transition to democracy without a simultaneous transition of power. As
democracy developed the KMT remained the primary political power and the apparatus of the partystate largely remained in place. It was not until 2000 when DPP candidate Chen Shui-bian was elected as President that a full transition of power finally took place. Even then the KMT still maintained a majority in the Legislative Yuan.

Compare this situation with East Germany. When the Berlin Wall fell in November 1989 the people rapidly took power. Citizens’ committees were formed that seized control of the files in town halls and more importantly in the Ministry of State Security. Round tables were formed to monitor the actions of the transitional government and work out the basis for democratic transformation. The central round table forced the transitional government to dissolve the Ministry for State Security. The Ministry employed 100,000 people and had accumulated masses of data from surveillance of the local population.

Free elections were held on 18 March 1990. The election was won by the “Alliance for Germany”, acoalition of parties. They faced a massive task in preparing the country for reunification within six months. One of the key tasks for the new government was to remove the dictatorial structures and strip the old leaders of their structural and material power.

Local elections were held on 6 May 1990. This enabled the citizens, who had previously had no political power or experience, to take control and strip the local cadres of power at the grassroots level. Another task was transforming the judiciary. Almost all the staff in the judiciary were members of the Socialist Unity Party of Germany (SED). Committees were set up to examine every single judge and about half the judges were allowed to remain in office. These were just a few of the issues addressed by the People’s Chamber during East Germany’s transition. There were others such as legal reform and reorganisation of the police force.

One of the biggest challenges was the SED party assets. The SED had accumulated vast assets during 45 years of dictatorial rule. A law was passed to put the assets of the SED and associated organisations that existed on 7 October 1989 into trust. An independent commission and the trustee were then responsible for liquidating and disbursing the assets. Assets were returned to the former owners or successors in title if the ownership was proved. The commission returned assets to the SED and other organisations when the assets had been acquired lawfully. Remaining assets were realised for nonprofit purposes, especially the economic restructuring of the states of the former GDR.

Taiwan’s experience provides a stark contrast. In the years immediately following the lifting of martial law many of the strict controls of the dictatorial state remained in place. The process of democratisation took place gradually over a decade under the leadership of Lee Teng-hui. As previously noted it was not until 2000, 13 years after the end of martial law, that the opposition party was elected to the presidency and took control of the executive branch of government.

Lee’s contribution to the development of Taiwan’s democracy was enormous. However, it was achieved from within the KMT and this limited Lee’s capacity to act in ways that did not have support of at least some sections of the party. While great strides were made in the development of elections and political participation there were not simultaneous efforts to remove the vestiges of the KMT’s dictatorial past. Hence this created a conundrum. The KMT established its political legitimacy through elections, yet it was never subject to transitional justice.

This is further illustrated by the treatment of the 228 Incident. 228 refers to the events surrounding 28 February 1947 when Taiwanese rebelled against the rule of the KMT and were met with a violent crackdown which killed more than 10,000 people. Lee ordered an independent report into the event and subsequently took part in numerous acts to commemorate 228. A committee was set up to pay reparations to the victims of 228 and later the White Terror period. As a result victims were compensated but the wrongdoers were never prosecuted or named.

What Taiwan has achieved in the area of transitional justice has largely been in areas which don’t directly challenge the power of the KMT. Numerous 228 memorials and human rights museums have been established. There have been many documentaries and books on 228 and the White Terror period. During the 2000-2008 period the DPP undertook a program of name rectification. State owned companies and institutions that had references to China or the ROC in their names had these changed to Taiwan. Statues of Chiang Kai-shek were removed from many locations and most controversially, the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall in central Taipei had its name changed to Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall. It should be noted that the KMT has acted to revert some of the name changes after returning to power in 2008.

The tackling of harder issues such as a Truth Commission and KMT party assets have never been realised. The DPP raised the issue of party assets a number of times while it was in power. Some accused it of using the issue simply for political gain during elections. The DPP was limited in the actions it could take because it lacked a majority in the legislature. The KMT has continually failed to make any efforts to reform itself.

For Taiwan transition without justice creates a dilemma. All Taiwanese now enjoy the fruits of
democracy, but the party of the former authoritarian regime retains its political power. The challenge for Taiwan is how to achieve transitional justice without engendering further social and political division. It demands either a broad based grassroots movement or skillful leadership from the top. Both seem lacking in Taiwan at present as society is split along a strong political divide.

References
• Arrigo, Linda Gail. “From Democratic Movement to Bourgeois Democracy: The Internal
Politics of the Taiwan Democratic Progressive Party in 1991.” Chapter 5. The Other Taiwan:
1945 to the Present. Murray A. Rubenstein (Ed.). M.E. Sharpe, New York, 1994.
• Chen, Yi-shen. “Transitional justice is not just electioneering.” Taipei Times, 7 January 2008.
• de Maiziere, Lothar. “Transition of the former German Democratic Republic (GDR) and the
liquidation of the assets of the “Socialist Unity Party of Germany” (SED).” Proceedings of the
International Conference on Comparative Studies of Transitional Justice, Taipei, 28 July 2007.
• Fischer, Malte. “The review of the assets of the communist United Socialist Party of Germany –
Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deuschtlands (SED) – of the former German Democratic Republic
(GDR).” Proceedings of the International Conference on Comparative Studies of Transitional
Justice, Taipei, 28 July 2007.
• Huntington, Samuel P. The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century.
University of Oklahoma Press, 1993.
• Tsao, Ronald Chin-jung. “Museums for peace: Identity of Taiwan’s peace museums and human
rights parks.” INTERCOM 2006 Conference Paper.
• Wu, Naiteh. “Transition with Justice, or Justice without History: Transitional Justice in
Taiwan.” Paper presented at International Conference on Political Challenges and Democractic
Institutions, National Taiwan University, 3-4 December 2004.
• Yu, Susan. “Drastic cut expected in dissident blacklist.” Free China Journal, 10 July 1992.

How the KMT constructs history

Poster of Chiang Ching-kuo at KMT headquarters in Taipei

Last week I visited the KMT headquarters in Bade Road with some students from the Taiwan Studies program at NCCU. The ground floor is adorned with some large photos of Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國) commemorating the 100th anniversary of his birth. On the ground floor there is also a small museum of the history of the KMT. As one would expect Sun Yat-sen (孫中山), Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) and Chiang Ching-kuo all feature prominently. The narrative extends to Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) who is featured in many photographs depicting his presidential election campaign and subsequently as president.

But for those who know their Taiwanese history something is missing. Lee Teng-hui (李登輝), who served as the President of Taiwan and Chairman of the KMT from 1988-2000, can only be found in a handful of photos. Lien Chan (連戰), who succeeded Lee as KMT Chairman, features in more photos than Lee.

A 2008 pamphlet detailing the KMT’s history ( side 1 & side 2) also similarly neglects Lee’s role. It only has a single mention of him in a list of party leaders. The pamphlet doesn’t record that he was the first KMT leader ever elected as president through a popular vote. Nor does it mention the key role he played in leading Taiwan from the period of martial law to being a free and democratic country with its first democratic transition of power in 2000.

It is not just in the insular world of KMT headquarters that the party seeks to promote such a blinkered view of history though. A far more public struggle is currently going on over the naming and status of the former Jingmei Detention Centre in Taipei County. Many leading figures in the Tangwai movement, who later founded the DPP, were held there after the 1979 Kaohsiung Incident (美麗島事件). It was reopened as a Human Rights Memorial in December 2007.

I visited the Human Rights Museum several times after it opened. It was a profoundly moving experience that brought history to life. Prisons are places hidden behind barbed wire and walls and rarely looked into. To walk through the halls and look into the rooms is confronting and unsettling.

Now the KMT government has changed the name of this place from a human rights museum to the “Jingmei Cultural Park”. It wants it to be a place for artistic groups to practice and perform while removing things which are a reminder of the site’s dark past.

I wrote the Council of Cultural Affairs back in January about the museum’s closure but I never received a reply. The issue has been in the news in the last couple of weeks though. Yesterday human rights groups and associations of former political prisoners held a press conference to express their opposition to the government’s plan. The Taipei Times reported they had collected 400 signatures opposing the plan from DPP and KMT lawmakers, former political prisoners and 26 civic groups.

I visited the centre again today. A security guard initially told me that I could not enter because work was still going on, but after I challenged him he agreed that he had no right to stop me. Once inside I could access all parts of the site without any problems. The exhibition halls, which once had displays of the history of the White Terror period, have been cleared out. There was a small exhibition of art by students from NTNU on display in two of the halls.

A poster of Cheng Nan-jung (鄭南榕) still stands in one part of the prison, left over from an exhibition last year. It is as if Cheng’s defiant spirit lives on, unable to be silenced. Walking through the halls of the prison I read the names on the doors of the cells, luminaries in the history of Taiwan’s democratic movement: Shih Ming-teh (施明德), Annette Lu (呂秀蓮), Chen Chu (陳菊) and Wang Sing-nan (王幸男).

The Jingmei Detention Centre represents a profound and important part of Taiwan’s disturbing history. It must be preserved as a reminder of what happened during the period of White Terror. The KMT cannot simply erase the parts of history that don’t fit its grand narrative. Only by providing an honest and complete representation of Taiwanese history can it claim to genuinely represent the people of Taiwan.

Further reading

Once was a prison

Watchtower in Jingmei prison

The Taiwan Human Rights Memorial (台灣人權景美園區) was officially opened by President Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) on Monday, which was Human Rights Day. The park, located in Xindian, Taipei County,  was formerly known as the Jingmei Military Detention Centre (景美軍事看守所). The centre was used to try and hold political prisoners during the martial law era and was converted to a museum at the suggestion of Vice President Annette Lu. The park is managed by the Peng Ming-min Cultural Foundation.

I visited the park today. It seems they are still working on the main entrance area, but all the other exhibition areas were open. If you plan to visit I suggest waiting a few weeks until the works are finished and it is a bit more organised.

Photos of people disappeared in 228

There are four halls of exhibitions in the park in what I guess were formerly administration buildings. They detail the history of resistance to KMT rule from 1947 to 1987. The photo above shows photos of members of the Taiwanese elite who disappeared during the 228 incident. Other points of interest included a screening of propoganda movies from the 1950s or 1960s. There are also many photos and materials related to the Kaohsiung Incident. There are lots of familiar faces among them as most of the current senior members of the DPP were involved in the incident. They all looked a lot younger then!

Barbed wire and walls in Jingmei Prison

 

The block that served for holding political prisoners is now open to the public and includes some information about the prisoners that were held there. The gray concrete and reams of barbed-wire maintain a lifeless, oppressive feel to the place.

Famous names on prison door

 

Vice President Annette Lu (呂秀蓮) and Kaohsiung Mayor Chen Chu (陳菊) were held in room 59 following the Kaohsiung Incident in 1979. Shi Ming-teh (施明德) was held there in 1985. The cells are open and you can see what kind of conditions the prisoners were kept under. There was no furniture in the rooms, although I assume they would have at least had a bed in them.

There is another building that served as a court for trying the prisoners on the site. Its display including some newspaper clippings of reports around the time of the trial of those involved in the Kaohsiung Incident.

It was interesting to visit and experience first hand the place where political prisoners were held. It made some of history feel more immediate and real.

*more photos in the Taiwan Human Rights Memorial set at flickr.

Transitional justice and Taiwan

The International Center for Transitional Justice defines transitional justice as follows:

Transitional justice refers to a range of approaches that societies undertake to reckon with legacies of widespread or systematic human rights abuse as they move from a period of violent conflict or oppression towards peace, democracy, the rule of law, and respect for individual and collective rights.

In making such a transition, societies must confront the painful legacy, or burden, of the past in order to achieve a holistic sense of justice for all citizens, to establish or renew civic trust, to reconcile people and communities, and to prevent future abuses. A variety of approaches to transitional justice are available that can help wounded societies start anew.

It goes on to detail some of the approaches by which transitional justice can be achieved. These include both judicial and non-judicial methods. I think a key point is that transitional justice is not merely about seeking revenge or punishment for past wrongs. It also looks toward reconciliation, institutional reform and ensuring the wrongs of the past are not repeated.

So why has Taiwan failed to achieve significant transitional justice? I think it is first important to recognise that things have been achieved. Since the DPP came to power in 2000: the statues of Chiang Kai-shek are slowly but surely being removed, 228 has been declared a public holiday and the textbooks gradually rewritten.

The main obstacles to achieving more lies in the fact that the KMT still has a majority in the legislature and they have used this to stonewall the government. Also many current KMT officials may be guilty of human rights abuses, so they will use their position to avoid any potentially embarrassing probes into their past.

Another key point is that for many people, both victims and perpertrators of crimes, the past is just filled with too many things that are painful to look at. Memories have been repressed, both actively and as a natural response to trauma.

The Taiwan News on 23 July 2007 had an article titled, Scholars point out martial law mentality lingers long after era. In the article Yao Jen-to, an assistant professor of sociology at National Tsing Hua University, is quoted as saying:

“The former regime has made many Taiwanese live like walking corpses, living without passion. The 38 years of authoritative rule has also made them stop thinking, with many focusing only on how to make money,” Yao added.

The Foreigner on Formosa writes that “walking corpses” is something of an exaggeration, but his personal observation is that many Taiwanese are unwilling or unable to freely express their own opinions. I believe this problem also has its roots in the education system, which was also heavily shaped by KMT ideology and martial law.

During the martial law era while some people were victims or perpetrators, perhaps the majority probably just did their best to live their lives and stay out of trouble. In order to do this they may have had to maintain a silence refraining criticism of the government and turning a blind eye to abuses of human rights. This attitude persists today; people simply want to get on with their lives and not dig up the horrors of the past. As Taiwan is now relatively prosperous and free people see no reason to challenge the past.

It is a lack of transitional justice that underlies the deep political divisions that exist in Taiwan and remain the greatest obstacle to constitutional reform and the strengthening of democratic institutions. Vincent Wang wrote in the Taipei Times last year:

Up until now Taiwan’s democratization has been through a series of “transitions without justice.” Taiwan’s democratic transition, because of a narrow-minded focus on elections, is simply understood as transition of power, as unjust aspects of the system have not been thoroughly examined and corrected. In the glow of the transfer of power, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) forgot to be resolute about transitional justice.

One of the key issues remains that of the KMT Party assets. Jerome Keating writes:

The KMT had assets of over NT$27 billion which when matched to its liabilities left them with a net worth of over NT$25 billion dollars. The DPP was second with Assets of NT$339 million and a net worth of NT$253 million.

Now tell me in a democracy, just how does one party have assets over NT$25 billion and the total of all the other parties is less than NT$300 million; not even a third of one billion dollars. The answer of course can be found in approximately forty years of Martial Law and a one-party state and no transitional justice.

This will be an issue during the elections next year. Some might say the DPP is simply using the issue of party assets as a political wedge, but the issue is very genuine. These assets belong to the people of Taiwan. As long as they continue to be used to benefit one political party then they remain an obstacle to strengthening Taiwan’s democracy.

In May this year Nobel-laureate Desmond Tutu visited Taiwan to talk about transitional justice and reconciliation. There is probably no one more eminently qualified to speak on this topic. The Taiwan Journal records him as saying:

“This is a very delicate business, what you do in a transition,” Tutu remarked. “There is, on the one hand, the release, the joy, even the euphoria that a period of great suffering has ended. And when that happens, people will be singing in deep thankfulness and relief. But on the other hand, it is also a time of great sadness, because people, loved ones, were the victims of egregious violations of human rights: those who were tortured, secretly abducted, imprisoned, killed, possibly burned. And there is almost universally, in this kind of period, a deep hunger for the truth.”

“Frequently, there would be those who demanded that the culprits be brought to book, be arrested and arraigned,” he explained. “But the new dispensation of freedom is fragile, precarious, and it just might be that to pursue the ends of retributive justice might jeopardize the new order.”

“On the other hand, you want to ask, ‘Do you let the culprits go scot-free?'” Tutu continued. “Would they not repeat their awful deeds again, knowing they would not have to face the music? What to do in such a period is a real agonizing problem in this period of transition.”

There are no easy answers about the best way to achieve transitional justice in Taiwan. But it is important to remember the past in order to prevent the same mistakes being made in the future.