From "City of Sadness" to Tourist Madness

Photo by Kevin Willett

A film about Taiwan's Dark Days shone spotlight on Juifen
Right after the 921 Earthquake that rocked Taiwan in 1999, I spent my first Moon Festival with my gf in Juifen (Chuifen), on the north-east coast of Taiwan. Far from the madding crowds in Taipei, it felt for a while like going to heaven. A little like Banff. A taste of Japan.

As you can see, this city in the clouds is a picturesque mountainside town. But during the height of the Japanese colonial era, it was a booming gold-mining town. "Little Shanghai." It went into decline when the events of World War II forced the mine to close.

But the collection of historical buildings made Jiufen the ideal location for the filming of City of Sadness -  the first Chinese-language film to win the Golden Lion award at the Venice Film Festival in 1989.

Seen through the eyes of one family, City of Sadness was the first film to deal openly with the KMT's dictatorial reign of terror after Taiwan was "handed-over" from Japan to Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist China. 

The film was also the first to depict the infamous 228 Incident of 1947, in which thousands of people were massacred by Nationalist troops that Chiang sent from China to put down Taiwan's version of "the Arab Spring." Tens of thousands of Taiwanese and mainland Chinese were rounded up, shot, sent to prison or "disappeared."

As one war veteran told me, "Chiang's troops landed at [the nearby port of Keelung] and started firing at anything that moved."

Despite the dark and depressing story, the success of the movie had the odd effect of turning the almost forgotten town into a popular attraction full of tea houses, coffee shops, artisans and tourists. Legions. Myriads.

So - on a good day - Juifen is about one hour from Taipei by train or by car. On a bad day -  such as the last day of a Chinese holiday or a long weekend - it can take three hours or more of hellish driving. Trust me, I've done it.

Photo by Kevin Willett

Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall in Taipei

Photo Copyright: by Kevin Willet

Last Emperor of China and the Mandate of Heaven

Every media visit, every guided tour of Taiwan stars with a visit to Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall in Taipei, As a temple dedicated to the Last god-emperor of China, it's deliberately modelled on the Temple of Heaven in Beijing's Forbidden City. It's the centrepiece of Chiang Kai-Shek Square, modelled on Tiananmen Square. It's meant to perpetuate the idea that Taiwan is the one true China and that Chiang Kai-shek and his KMT successors have the Mandate of Heaven.

The Democratic Progressive Party - during its eight-year interregnum (2000-2008) - re-branded Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall as "Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall" It renamed Chiang Kai-Shek Square as "Liberty Square." It was meant put the country's dictatorial past behind and highlight the way to a democratic future.

But the KMT Old Guard were up in arms (literally) and the best the DPP could do was paper over the past... literally. When the KMT got back in office (they were never out of power) the first thing they did was reinstate CKS and his family (wife Soong Mei-ling and son Chiang Ching-kou) and as the unholy trinity.

Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall now has a souvenir shop where you can buy the idols for your home shrine: Chiang Kai-Shek, Chiang Ching-kou, and Sun Yat-sen. Even Mao Tse-tung. Don't be surprised - the KMT has been in bed with the Chinese Communist Party since the KMT lost the presidential election in 2000.

American Freedom Fighter visits imprisoned Taiwanese democracy leader

Missionary pays secret visit to Chen Shui-bian in Taipei jail today, gives him his memoirs of KMT's "White Terror '' days

(Got this story in my e-mail. Media embargoed till Monday evening Taiwan time. But I'm not "media" and I'm not in Taiwan. So here it is...)

webposted by anonymous


Former US missionary in Taiwan Milo Thornberry,  75, who was a central figure in helping human rights leader Peng Ming-min (彭明敏) escape from Taiwan during the years of the White Terror, paid a private personal visit to former Taiwan president Chen Shui-bian today, inside the jail where Chen now whiles away his days.

During the private visit, which was intentionally kept out of the
media limelight, and was just a personal private meeting between to
old friends, Dr. Thornberry gave a copy of his memoir about his Taiwan days to President Chen, who is serving a 15 year prison sentence in a Taipei jail.

Thornberry went to Taiwan as a missionary of the Methodist Church at the end of 1965 and over the next few years — as recounted in his
recently published book Fireproof Moth — secretly distributed
money to the families of political prisoners.

He and his wife also worked to inform the outside world of the
torture, the executions and the repression practiced under the Martial
Law era regime of Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石).

In particular, he collaborated with Peng and two former students —
Hsieh Tsung-min (謝聰敏) and Wei Ting-chao (魏廷朝) — who were both arrested, “horribly tortured,” tried in a secret court and served long prison terms.

According to Thornberry, who is now retired but still gives sermons
and speeches as a Methodist pastor, the “shadows” from the period of
martial law had a bearing on the diverging views of Taiwan’s future.

After democratization in Taiwan, none of the officials responsible for
the White Terror were brought to account, Thornberry told the Taipei
Times recently.

“Since the election of the [President] Ma [Ying-jeou (馬英九)]
administration, not much has been heard from it about the period of
White Terror,” he added.

“Does the KMT [Kuomingtang or Chinese Nationalist Party] simply want to forget that period, believing that younger generations who didn’t experience White Terror will not care about it?” he asked.

However, he said, until this past is acknowledged openly and dealt
with justly, “I wonder if Taiwan can live into the future without
denial.”

“The shadows of the conspiracy of silence also fall on the US
government,” he says.

“Some in today’s administration seem little more concerned about the
hopes and aspirations of the Taiwanese people than they were during
the period of White Terror,” he says.

“Although they knew the reality, they deemed it in the U.S. national
interest to disregard the Taiwanese people in favor of Chiang
Kai-shek,” Thornberry says.

“Now, I fear that the Taiwanese people’s interests are disregarded
because of U.S. interests in China, not to mention the complication of
our indebtedness to China. The issues now and then are different, but
the readiness to disregard the will of the Taiwanese people is the
same,” he says.

Thornberry's visit to Chen in prison was arranged by Chen's friends,
and was a purely private, personal visit between two old friends.
Thornberry had met Chen two times when he serving as president of Taiwan in 2003 and again in 2008.

Formosa Displayed, Formosa Betrayed: Taiwan's 228 Museum Rewriting History?

Taipei 228 exhibits spark controversy

GLOSSING OVER: Critics said the government had demonstrated arrogance with its interpretation of history and had disrespected the incident’s victims and their families 

From The Taipei Times, Feb. 20, 2011

The Taipei 228 Memorial Museum is reopening its doors to the public this morning after a 10-month renovation, but its efforts to reveal the truth of the 228 Incident met with challenges as pro-independence activists and family members of the incident’s victims yesterday accused the museum of glorifying the acts of the then-government and distorting the truth with its selection of documents.  

Full story:

http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/2011/02/20/2003496332/1

The Way It Was...

The Well of Souls: Taipei 2-28 Memorial Museum

By Stephen A. Nelson

(from The Brandon Sun, May 1, 2010)

A stone’s throw from the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall, there is another museum; different in every way from the shrine dedicated to Chiang. This is the Taipei 2-28 Memorial Museum.

Everything about the 2-28 museum stands in stark contrast to the Chiang memorial. Instead of a great monument in the midst of a vast parade square, the 2-28 museum is a small building in quiet corner of a downtown park. If Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall is the Great Pyramid of Cheops, this is the Well

of Lost Souls.

The museum stands in the shadows of the other great edifices erected by the Japanese: The presidential palace, the parliament buildings, the National Taiwan University Hospital.

And like those public buildings, this place was designed in the Asian Glory style — simple lines incorporating Western elements — that was favoured by the Japanese when they ruled Taiwan in the first half of the 20th Century.

Originally, this building was home to the Taipei Broadcasting Bureau — the model radio network set up by the Japanese for their model colony. When the Japanese were forced to surrender Taiwan at the end of the Second World War, the KMT government took over the radio network and renamed it the Taiwan Broadcasting Company. 

The network played a central role in the events of the 2-28 Incident, as both sides commandeered the radio station to broadcast their messages. From here, the Taiwanese sent out their SOS to the world.

So what is the 2-28 Incident? And why should people want to remember it? My Taiwanese friends describe it as Taiwan’s own Tiananmen Square Massacre, the central event that is at the heart of the story told in Formosa Betrayed: a military crackdown — carried out by Chiang’s troops on February 28, 1947 — that marked the beginning of Taiwan’s martial-law era. Tens of thousands “disappeared” during what became known as The White Terror.

The history books always said that the crackdown was necessary to put down an insurrection, weed out communist agents and protect Taiwan. But if history is written by the winners, this 2-28 museum tells the story of the losers. Here, the faces of those lost souls look you in the eye and silently plead with you to make sure that their stories are not forgotten...

UNTIL NOW!

Further reading:

Return to Taiwan's Dark Days

http://www.atimes.com/atimes/China/KA17Ad01.html

Devils and Angels in Taiwan
http://www.atimes.com/atimes/China/JD11Ad04.html

Photos from the Old 228 Museum, before the renovations, revisions and rewrites.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=164636&id=234843808294&fbid=389160738294

Find links to my other Taiwan and travel stories:

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Stephen-A-Nelson-Writer-Editor-Traveller-and-More/374226352256

Choose This Day Whom You Will Serve or So You Wanna Go Back to Egypt?

 In a follow up to yesterday's post, Michael Turton summarizes his criticism of Jerome Cohen this way:

"You can't support democracy and the KMT/CCP ECFA sellout talks at the same time, since the ultimate success of the latter entails the loss of the former."

Turton also says, "these two positions are inherently contradictory: the KMT and CCP can only kiss and make up over the dead body of Taiwan's democracy."

http://michaelturton.blogspot.com/2010/08/jerome-cohen-neither-green-nor-blue.html

Which is funny, because the KMT/CPP talks have always reminded me of the political cartoon of Adolph Hitler and Joseph Stalin meeting over the dead body of Poland. (above)

Turton also notes that Cohen's attempt to stake out the high middle ground has made him a target for both sides: supporters of democracy in Taiwan and supporters of annexation/unification in China.

"The reason they are both shouting at Cohen is not because he has found some lofty perch in the Moderate Middle but because his position is incoherent and self-defeating."

This makes me wonder about the Via Media that KMT Leader Ma Ying-jeou promised when he was running for president - and continues to promote as a "way forward" for Taiwan to get out of the political and diplomatic wilderness that the KMT put it in.

But whenever Ma (a.k.a. the Telflon President) talks about the Via Media, it always reminds me of the politician who says he has found the Golden Mean between honesty and dishonesty. And this way "out of the wilderness" leads straight back to Egypt.

When will the Taiwanese wake up a see that there can be no Via Media between Annexation and Independence? No Golden Mean between tyranny and freedom?

Surely what has happened in Hong Kong is a lesson written in Chinese characters (socialism with Chinese characteristics?) big enough to see across the Taiwan Strait? "Hong Kong people governing Hong Kong people" doesn't mean autonomy or democracy.

Yet it seems everyone in Taiwan clings to the myth of status quo and repeats the mantra that Hong Kong tour guides have learned so well: "Nothing has changed."

The Golden Path they have chosen is paved with Fool's Gold and is, in fact, Via Dolorosa

The way I see it, the Children of Taiwan have to choose: either they cross over into the Promised Land of democracy and independence or go back to China - back to the house of bondage.

But they think they can continue to wander in the wilderness, worshipping their Golden Calves - Chiang Kai-shek and the God of Fortune.

Rule of Law: Neither "Green" nor "Blue" but maybe Turquoise when you take off the rose-coloured glasses

In Taiwan's colour-coded politics, being "Blue" means being pro-Kuomintang (KMT or Chinese Nationalist Party), defending their dictators and supporting their one-China policies. 

On the other hand, being "Green" means being pro-democracy, pro-Taiwan independence and supporting the parties that have spearheaded the movement, chiefly the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP).

Most expat businessmen I met in Taiwan supported the KMT (either implicitly or explicitly) because, basically, "they make the trains run on time." 

Diplomats were divided, but I found that (privately, at least) the more they actually knew about Taiwan, the more they were pro-Taiwan and pro-Green.

Most real journalists I knew supported the goals of Taiwan Independence and democracy, even if they didn't necessarily support the DPP or its political allies.

When I worked in Taiwan, I was accused of being Green (by the aforementioned expat businessmen) - and therefore supporting the DPP - because I supported real democracy. And because I insisted that Taiwan was a real country - no matter what Beijing or Washington said.

And when I was critical of the KMT or its dictators (from Chiang Kai-shek to Ma Ying-jeou), I was told, "You are not Chinese, so you do not understand." 

I confess I am no expert on Taiwan or China; merely a scribe who tries to learn and understand - and then explain to others. 

But apparently, I am in good company. Professor Jerome A. Cohen is co-director of NYU School of Law’s US-Asia Law Institute and adjunct senior fellow for Asia at the Council on Foreign Relations. 

In an op-ed that first appeared in the South China Morning Post, Cohen argues that he is neither "Green" nor "Blue". But Cohen  says he has been accused of being "Green" because does support rule of law, accountability in government and an independent judiciary that is not merely the tool of an autocratic party that hungers for the old days of martial law. 

And, of course, Cohen has been told that he does not understand and appreciate the "one-China" principle because he is not Chinese.

http://www.usasialaw.org/?p=4024 

My friend, Michael Turton, who makes no bones about being Green (pro-Taiwan, pro-democracy) responds by saying that Cohen is so busy correcting other people's colour blindness that he forgot to take off his rose-coloured glasses.

http://michaelturton.blogspot.com/2010/08/jerome-cohen-neither-green-nor-blue.html

Formosa Displayed: The Magnificent Monuments of 'Chinese Taipei'

By Stephen A Nelson

The Brandon Sun

May 1, 2010

There is a new movie playing in Canada that's been drawing unexpectedly large audiences. There are no flying dragons or warring gods; but there is a story about Paradise Lost and the battle between good and evil.

The film is Formosa Betrayed, a story about Taiwan's dark days of martial law under the Chinese Nationalist Party (Kuomintang or KMT) of the late Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek and his successor, Chiang Ching-kuo.

Visit Taiwan today and you can’t help asking questions that are at the heart of Formosa Betrayed.

Taking Sides Over Taiwanor China Still Singing the Same Old Song

Adapted from CBC Newsworld story
following election of Chen Shui-bian and the DPP

April, 2000

By Stephen A. Nelson

TAIPEI - China (read "The People's Republic of China") is obsessed with Taiwan. It wants Taiwan so badly, it can taste it. Hong Kong and Macao were merely appetizers. Taiwan is the main course.

China even has its version of the "fee-fo-fi-fum" song favoured by that unfriendly giant who had a taste for Englishmen.

China's chant goes like this:
"Taiwan always has been and always will be a part of China. Nothing can change that. Not even democratic elections in Taiwan.
"It is the desire of Chinese people everywhere for Taiwan to be reunited with China."

This is called the "One China Principle."

Lately, it seems I can't open a newspaper, or turn on the TV without hearing some Chinese official singing that same old song.

It's the same song the Chinese people have been hearing for the last 50 years from the Nationalist government in Taiwan (read "The Republic of China.) Of course, they always thought that China and Taiwan would be re-united under Taiwan's Nationalist regime, not Beijing's Communist regime.

Here in Greater China, both sides have their own interpretation of the One China tune. As long as both sides were playing the same tune, they could at least dance together, even if they needed the United States to chaperone.

But last year, Taiwan's President Lee Tung-hui started singing a slightly different tune. While the mainland was still singing Some Day We'll Be Together, Lee was singing "It's going to take some time, next time." But to the Chinese, this sounded like The Twelfth of Never.

This made the Chinese and Americans a bit nervous.

And now the people of Taiwan have chosen a new leader: Chen Shui-bian, who doesn't particularly like this dance or this kind of music.

This has made China's leaders, and people on both sides, angry and confused. The U.S. is very nervous. They all liked the old song. So the Chinese bandleaders keep telling their musicians "Play louder! Play louder!" and the American chaperones keep telling everyone "Keep dancing! Keep dancing!"

This, no doubt, has a lot of people asking themselves "What are we doing here?"

Before you can even try to answer that question, you have to ask two more questions: "What do you mean by 'We'? " and "Where is 'Here'?"

"Here" is Taiwan, still known to some people as Formosa, or even "Nationalist China."The official name of the country is "The Republic of China"or "ROC" for short. But most countries, including Canada, refuse to recognize Taiwan. So in sporting events such as the Olympics, or in trade organizations such as APEC, Taiwan must appear under the name "Chinese Taipei"; which is kind of like Canada being called "American Ottawa."

Confused? You're not alone.

So let me try to put things in perspective: Geographically, Taiwan is to the Chinese mainland what Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands are to the rest of Canada.

About 160km off the south-east coast of China, the main leaf-shaped island is about 394km long and about 144km across at its widest point. Taiwan also controls a number of smaller islands in the region.

There are more than 22 million people living here, most of them on the main island.

The "we" is China and Taiwan.

What you have here in Taiwan is a people who are united to the mainland by culture and language, but divided by history and politics.

In this part of the world, Chinese officials and Chinese journalists (on both sides of the Taiwan Strait) love to tell the One China story, with special emphasis on the part that says Taiwan is a province of China. They say that Chinese people on both sides of the Taiwan Strait are "brothers and sisters" who long to live together as one happy family.

Well, it is true that most people in Taiwan trace their ancestry to China. And in many ways — culture, religion, even language — the Taiwanese seem even more Chinese than the Chinese.

But most of these families arrived during the reign of the emperors, more than 100 years ago. Many of these people, including Taiwan's new president, think of themselves first and foremost as "Taiwanese."Chinese if necessary, but not necessarily Chinese.

To many Taiwanese, people on the mainland are "distant relatives."At best they can be friends, but they will never be close family.

True, many of the more recent arrivals from China do think of themselves as Chinese. And they do have close family ties on the mainland. But to many young people here, the whole question of "Is Taiwan a part of China?" is so "Yesterday."

But what is the rest of the world to think? Is Taiwan part of China?

It is true that maps of China have long included Taiwan. Then again, many maps of the United States include parts of Canada, too.

And even if Taiwan is considered part of China, it hasn't always been under Chinese rule.

In 1544, when the Portuguese discovered this sceptred isle, they called it "Ilha Formosa" which means "Beautiful Island" in Portuguese. But the Portuguese couldn't hold on to Formosa and concentrated their colonial efforts elsewhere instead.

In the 1600s, Taiwan was colonized by both the Dutch and the Spanish, who fought for control of the island until the Dutch finally kicked out the Spanish.

Most of the people living in Taiwan at the time were not Chinese, but aboriginals. They had more in common with the Polynesians of the South Pacific than they did with the mainland Chinese.

During the late 1600s, China's warring Ming and Manchu families arrived in Taiwan. They kicked out the Dutch and fought each other for control of the island and control of China. The Manchus finally won and established their dynasty in China, making Taiwan a county of Fujian province.

This triggered many successive waves of immigration from China. Most of the immigrants were from Fujian province, directly across the strait from Taiwan. To this day, the "Taiwanese" language is virtually identical to the Fujian dialect.

In 1895, Japan took Taiwan from China and held onto it until the end of the Second World War, when it was “handed back to China.”

By this time, of course, the emperors were gone in China.

That's because, in 1911, the Kuomintang (KMT or Nationalist Party), led by Sun Yat-sen, overthrew the Ching dynasty. The KMT subsequently established the first Republic of China.

With the help of strongman Chiang Kai-shek, Sun tried to unite a China that was deeply divided by powerful warlords. They never quite succeeded.

After Sun's death, Chiang's efforts to unite China were interrupted by the Japanese invasion and the Second World War.

In recent years, many people have been critical of Chiang Kai-shek. But during the war, the Generalissimo was regarded as a hero for fighting the Japanese and rescuing China's national treasures from the invading hordes.

At the end of the Second World War, “giving Taiwan to China” was seen as the Allies' way of rewarding one of the great leaders of the "free world."

Before long, the KMT was fighting again, this time with its former allies, the Communist forces of Mao Tse-tung. The Nationalist forces lost and — along with about two million people — fled to Taiwan to plan their re-conquest of the mainland. Fifty years later, some of them were still planning.

In the meantime, the KMT established the Republic of China on Taiwan, while the Communists established the People's Republic of China on the mainland.

For most of the last 50 years, both have claimed to be the sole voice and legitimate government of all China. For the first two decades, most of the international community sided with the Nationalists. "Free China" (under martial law, of course) survived as a virtual colony of the United States.

In 1971, things started to fall apart for the Kuomintang, who were still clinging to the "One China" fiction.

The People's Republic of China had applied for admission to the United Nations. Many countries were willing to accommodate Taipei and Beijing with a "Two Chinas" policy. But the ROC staked everything on its position: that it was the sole legitimate voice for all of China. The KMT gambled and lost.

First they lost the Chinese seat at the United Nations — including its seat as a permanent member of the Security Council. Then, one by one, Taiwan's major allies, including Canada, severed their diplomatic ties with Taiwan and switched their allegiance to Beijing. Taiwan was ejected from countless international bodies and became persona non grata in the international community.

In 1979, the United States withdrew both its official recognition and its troops from Taiwan. The U.S. didn't completely abandon Taiwan, promising to help Taiwan defend itself from outside threats — namely China.

Since then, China has threatened war many times. But its major attacks have been on the diplomatic battlefield, where it has tried — and succeeded — to isolate Taiwan.

But, while most of the world was looking the other way, Taiwan was changing.

In 1975, Chiang Kai-shek died and was succeeded by his son, Chiang Ching-kou. To those independent-minded Taiwanese, this was starting to look like another dynasty. The Taiwanese didn't like that much, and said so openly — a bold step when the country was under martial law.

Thus, the democracy movement was born in Taiwan. Eventually, the movement was given a name, the Democratic Progressive Party. As it turned out, "Emperor" Chiang Ching-kuo was not unsympathetic and allowed the newborn party to live.

Most people are aware of the economic miracle that has taken place in Taiwan in the last 20 years. The technological revolution has turned a developing country into an economic powerhouse. Certainly the KMT and out-going president Lee Tung-hui can take some credit for that.

But the economic miracle almost pales in comparison to the political miracle. Twenty years ago, Taiwan was a one-party state under martial law. The government was still talking about re-taking the mainland. It was forbidden to even discuss the idea of Taiwan independence.

These days, no-one is talking about re-taking the mainland. Taiwan has just completed its second presidential election. The people of Taiwan have democratically put an end to one-party rule. And they've chosen a leader: Chen Shui-bian, who has spoken openly about Taiwan independence.

This has made the Chinese government very angry. It's made the U.S. very nervous. It's made a lot of Taiwanese people angry and nervous.

But for a lot of people at this dance, it's also very exciting. No more slow waltzes and foxtrots. If they ever play the "One China" tune again, it will be to a rock-and-roll beat. And, whatever the tune, it seems rock and roll is here to stay.

For now, anyway.

Devil or Angel? The Lasting Legacy of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek in Taiwan

Adapted from

Asia Times Online
April 11, 2008

Taiwan's president-elect Ma Ying-jeou spent last weekend honouring his political ancestors: Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek and his son, the late president Chiang Ching-kuo. It's the latest move by Ma and his Kuomintang (Chinese Nationalist Party) to polish the tarnished image of the Chiang dynasty and reinstall its name to public places and monuments. And it's meant to influence Taiwan's future by determining how people see its past.

By Stephen A. Nelson

TAIPEI - A new wind is blowing across Taiwan. And what many had hoped would be a breath of fresh air from president-elect Ma Ying-jeou may turn out to be a monsoon that brings the perfect storm of change.
To find out what direction the wind is blowing, one needs to look no further than Ma himself. Although he is praised as a pragmatist with a flexible attitude, critics have called Ma "a chameleon on a weather vane." And that weather vane now indicates that the "new wind" is a really blast from the past - a past when the Chinese Nationalist Party (Kuomintang or KMT) enjoyed one-party rule.

That's why Taiwan's current battle over the naming and renaming of public places and monuments dedicated to Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek is really a battle to determine Taiwan's future by determining how people see its past.

Kowtowing to Chiang

This past weekend, Taiwan celebrated the traditional Tomb Sweeping Day, a national holiday during which families visit their ancestral graves to pay respects to their forebears.

Coincidentally, it also happened to be the 33rd anniversary of Chiang Kai-shek's death. Not coincidentally, Ma - as the head of the KMT "family" - chose this day to visit two mausoleums in honour of his political ancestors: Chiang Kai-shek and his son and successor, the late president Chiang Ching-kuo.

Together the Chiangs ruled Taiwan for four decades - most of the time under brutal martial law. Chiang the elder ruled after the KMT's Republic of China got control of Taiwan's islands at the end of World War II. In 1949, after the KMT lost to Mao Zedong's communists in a civil war on the mainland, Chiang fled to Taiwan and held it as the last bastion of his regime.

When Chiang Kai-shek died in 1975, he was succeeded by Chiang Ching-kuo.

Chiang the younger has been presented in recent years as a "reformer" who benefited Taiwan by setting the groundwork for Taiwan's "economic miracle" and putting Taiwan on the road to democracy.

Critics, however, say that he was merely a pragmatist who acted to save the KMT and preserve its regime - the Republic of China on Taiwan.

So although those in the KMT have viewed his regime with great nostalgia, critics say that Chiang Ching-kuo was actually a more efficient and more brutal leader, having learned government at the knee of Joseph Stalin.

Chiang Ching-kuo died in 1988. Thirty years later, Ma Ying-jeou is set to become the first president since Chiang who was not born in Taiwan.

President-elect Ma Ying-jeou, not coincidentally, began his political career as Chiang Ching-kuo's English translator and secretary. He was promoted by Chiang Ching-kuo to become the youngest cabinet member in the history of Taiwan.

That would explain, in part, Ma's kowtowing to the Chiangs on Tomb Sweeping Day. And this just one week after his appearance at another Chiang landmark - the Taipei shrine formerly known as Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall.

What's in a Name?

Although Chiang Kai-shek's mausoleum (where Ma spent Tomb Sweeping Day) is actually outside of Taipei, it is the towering temple-like memorial hall in downtown Taipei that is truly Taiwan's answer to Vladimir Lenin's tomb in Moscow or Mao Zedong's mausoleum in Beijing.
The memorial hall is set like a glistening jewel in a palatial public plaza that is Taiwan's version of Red Square in Moscow or Tiananmen Square in Beijing.

In the main hall of the shrine sits a giant, bronze statue of Chiang Kai-shek, looking for all the world like a Ming Dynasty god-emperor. It is one of the largest bronze statues in the world, on a scale with the giant statues of Lenin in Moscow and Mao in Beijing.

In an effort to demythologize the Chiang legend, the current government of outgoing President Chen Shui-bian and his Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) recently renamed the shrine National Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall. The name of the surrounding gardens was changed from Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Park to Taiwan Democracy Park. And the great public plaza was renamed Liberty Square.

The renaming was one of many controversial moves the DPP has made in the past year to distance Taiwan from its dictatorial past. Other moves include the renaming of Taipei's international airport that was for decades known as Chiang Kai-shek International Airport. It is now know as Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport.

Critics in the the KMT decried such changes as blatant political ploys by the DPP to drum up election support among its core voters by stirring up hatred of Chiang Kai-shek and the KMT.
 
But according to the pro-Taiwan Taipei Times (Taiwan's largest English-language newspaper), the anti-Chiang campaign was about something much deeper than an election victory.

In an editorial last December titled Let's feed Chiang to the historians, the paper said that the "destruction of Chiang's godlike status and the redefinition of his place in history are necessary parts of Taiwan's democratic transition, much like Spain's ongoing re-evaluation of late dictator Francisco Franco."

The paper went on to say that "Election concerns were of course one component in the government's decision to change the name Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall to National Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall ... but these actions are also a part of the re-evaluation of Chiang's contributions and faults. These actions are an essential step in the process of lessening psychological trauma in this society."

The changes at the memorial hall have especially angered the KMT's old guard and their supporters, many of whom are "49ers" who arrived in Taiwan with Chiang Kai-shek's troops in 1949. Led by Chiang Kai-shek's grandson, John Chiang, they have publicly protested the changes to the Chiang landmarks.

They have complained that Chen - a democracy-rights lawyer who fought against martial law - is a dictator. And they say that Chiang Kai-shek - a dictator who imposed martial law - is a hero who laid the groundwork for Taiwan's democracy.

For his part, Ma Ying-jeou has called the renaming of the memorial hall "illegal" and promised to revisit the issue when he becomes president in May. He has said that the name of the memorial could be changed back - and Chiang Kai-shek's great status restored - "if that's what people want."

Ma hasn't said which "people" he means to ask.

But by visiting the tombs of the Chiangs, Ma has certainly indicated which way he is leaning. And as usual with Ma, it's an indication of which way Taiwan's political winds are blowing.
 

Rewriting History - Again

To most historians, the Chiangs were ruthless dictators who ruled China - and then Taiwan - with an iron fist. In Taiwan alone, they were responsible for the deaths and "disappearances" of tens of thousands during the KMT's reign of terror (known as The White Terror) during the 38 years of martial law in Taiwan.

Some historians have put Chiang Kai-shek in the same category as Adolf Hitler, Stalin and Mao; noting that Chiang admired and imitated Hitler, learned and borrowed from Stalin, and differed little from Mao. 

Certainly this is the view of the outgoing Chen and his DPP - a politician and a party born from the democracy movement that opposed the KMT's one-party rule in the 1970s and 1980s.

But during Ma Ying-jeou's visit to the Chiangs' mausoleums, Ma said that the Chiangs' actions are "open to discussion" and that their legacy is "open to different interpretations." And, he said, people are entitled to their own different views about the Chiangs.
"Their merits and faults can be discussed by historians but they left behind many important historical and cultural heritages which should be preserved," Ma said.

Ma may think that this is a matter for future historians to decide, but John Chiang and the KMT's ancien regime have been emboldened by the party's one-two victories in the legislative and presidential elections. They are flexing their muscles by pressing for changes now.

Taking their cue from John Chiang, pro-KMT news media - which means nearly all of them in Taiwan - are polishing the tarnished image of Chiang Kai-shek and seeking to restore the damaged legacy of the Chiang dynasty. They continue to deify Chiang Kai-shek and portray him as a national hero, one who preserved Taiwan's freedom and laid the groundwork for economic miracle.

This version of the story has been eagerly picked up by foreign news agencies and repeated around the world.
 
An old proverb says, "Journalism is the first draft of history." If that's true, then the revised history of Taiwan is being written now. And it's a version of history we've seen before, when the KMT was writing the history books.

Dictator or deliverer?

So what are future history students to believe about Chiang Kai-shek? Was he a dictator or deliverer? A strongman or saviour?
 
"A lot depends on who you ask," said Taiwan expert Dean Karalekas, a Canadian journalist who lived and worked in Taiwan. "Was Chiang a strongman? Yes. But he was our strongman and it is important that we avoid the temptation to apply 21st century moral judgements to his actions," added Karalekas.

"The world was a different place then, and it operated under different rules," he said. "I'm not apologizing for him, but he has passed into history; and as a former student of history, I am hesitant to start judging its principal actors, of which Chiang certainly was one."

Another old Taiwan hand was less hesitant to judge: "[Chiang] was a dictator. If he delivered anything, it was a reign of terror to Taiwan," said Jeff Limburger, a Canadian who worked in Taiwan's news media for more than a decade and now works in Singapore. "Though to be fair, some of the people who were persecuted in the White Terror were also delivered by Chiang."

But even if Chiang was a strongman, was he also - as his supporters claim - the one who saved Taiwan by protecting it from the "communist bandits on the mainland"?

"Chiang Kai-shek did not save Taiwan," said Jerome Keating, author of several books including Island in the Stream: A Quick Case Study of Taiwan's Complex History .

"Taiwan, on the other hand, actually saved Chiang Kai-shek and the KMT. On the run from Mao Zedong's forces, they had no place to hide but Taiwan."
 
What saved Taiwan from Mao, Keating said, was that - in the beginning - Mao lacked the naval forces to cross the Taiwan Strait. The arrival of the U.S. Seventh Fleet, coinciding with America's involvement in the Korean War, sealed this fate: Mao and the communists on one side of the strait, Chiang and the KMT on the other side.
 
"Chiang Kai-shek and the KMT were lucky," said Keating. "Taiwan was not."

Necessary Evil?

But given the military conflict and the "Red Threat" from Mao's China, was martial law needed to maintain order? And was the White Terror (the KMT's reign of spies, disappearances, imprisonments and executions) a "necessary evil" to keep Taiwan "safe"?

"Martial law probably helped the government maintain control in what would have been pretty tense and troubling times," said Limburger. "I can see how an alien power would have felt it was necessary to impose martial law in order to reduce the likelihood of domestic chaos as it contemplated how to retake its homeland."

"I guess from that point of view, you would call martial law a necessary evil," continued Limburger. "The White Terror, however - that was just evil." 

Profits or Plunder?

But what about the claims that Chiang not only kept Taiwan "free" but rebuilt the economy after the losses of World War II? Did Chiang prosper Taiwan or plunder it?

Keating believes that the whole idea that "Chiang Kai-shek rebuilt Taiwan" is a fabrication, a myth.

"Chiang Kai-shek did not rebuild Taiwan;" he said. "In reality, he is the one who brought it to its lowest degradation."

The KMT and its historians have said that the "rape of Taiwan" took place during the Japanese colonial period, especially in the dying days of World War II.

But according to Keating, the real denuding, pillaging and destruction of Taiwan was at the hands of the KMT in the final phases of China's civil war.

"Taiwan suffered tremendous destruction physically and morally. Taiwan was stripped of machinery, factory parts, materials, metals, foods, rice ... anything and everything that could be used to bolster Chiang's losing effort in China," Keating said.
 
And when the KMT retreated to Taiwan in 1949 and began rebuilding what they had destroyed?

"It was not because they loved Taiwan," he said, "but because they had no place left to go" and decided to "make a heaven of their hell" that they had created.

Legacy

So three decades after Chiang's death, what are we to make of the recent changes that "smote the name of Chiang" from public places like Chiang Kai-Shek International Airport and Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall?
Were these just election ploys by the governing DPP?

"I don't think they were renamed in order to consolidate pro-independence support," said Limburger. "Deep green [pro-Taiwan, pro-independence] voters would have voted for the DPP candidate whether they got Chiang's head on a plate or not. I think it was actually a matter of principle. And the DPP were probably hoping that reversing the changes wouldn't be high on Ma Ying-jeou's priority list once he was elected."
 
But now, the pressure is on to restore the old name of Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall and Chiang Kai-Shek International Airport. Since Ma has promised to revisit the issue, will he wait until he is president and then change the name? Or push now for changes the old guard wants?

"I would be very disappointed to hear the hall and airport were renamed," said Limburger.

"Firstly, I don't think Chiang Kai-shek and his family deserve a public legacy. Secondly, I'd be disappointed in Ma. I really want to believe that he's actually a man of substance who will choose the sensible course over the politically expedient one every once in a while. If he caves on this one, it doesn't bode well for his presidency as a multitude of supporters and cronies push him to rush into China with open arms."

The Future of Democracy

But if Ma does give in - as many expect he will do as soon as he's sworn in - and the old names and Chiang's monuments are restored, what does all this say about Taiwan's democracy?

One person worth asking is Linda Gail Arrigo. Today she is a sociology professor at Taipei Medical University and spokesperson for Taiwan's Green Party. But three decades ago, known by her Chinese name Ai Lin-Da, she was one of the most recognizable foreigners in Taiwan.

During the martial-law era, Arrigo was intimately involved in Taiwan's forbidden democracy movement and took part in the demonstrations that led to one of the country's most infamous military crackdowns: the 1979 Kaohsiung Incident, also known outside Taiwan as the Formosa Incident.

Arrigo's husband, future DPP chairman Shih Ming-de, was singled out as one of the ringleaders and sent to prison. For her part in challenging the KMT, Arrigo avoided prison but was deported to the United States.
 
At the time, Chiang Ching-kou was president.

For people like Arrigo, the sight of Ma Ying-jeou kowtowing to the Chiangs is an ill omen. "Even if the names [of the memorial and the airport] aren't changed back, a chill 'Blue' wind is blowing, just because Taiwanese automatically buckle down to please the new authorities," said Arrigo.

In Taiwan's colour-coded politics, blue is the colour of the KMT and its old-guard, pro-unification allies. Arrigo clearly thinks that the whole country is bending with the KMT wind - and that will mean a setback for those who have fought so hard for democracy in Taiwan.

"I think it is quite possible that there will be actual backpedaling on police issues and freedom of speech, but it will probably be subtle," Arrigo said.

And what about Ma Ying-jeou himself?

"Let's see how Ma faces the frying pan," Arrigo said. "But I expect the matter now is not really Ma as an individual, but the old evil style of the KMT."


Stephen A Nelson is a Canadian freelance journalist now based in Toronto but with one foot still in Taiwan. For eight years he worked as a journalist in Taiwan, including two years at the Taipei Times newspaper. He was also a broadcaster at Radio Taiwan International, where he produced Strait Talk – a weekly program about Taiwan and its place in the world.

What readers said about this story:

As an overseas Taiwanese I praise Stephen A Nelson's article Devils and angels in Taiwan. Ma Ying-jeou's KMT [Kuomintang party] with big help [from] the People's Republic of China, and perhaps many short-sighted Taiwanese and America's George W Bush administration as well, have defeated [the Democratic Progressive Party] overwhelmingly in Taiwan.
Taiwan's political troubles are comparable with those of Ukraine and Estonia, which have to deal with a big "race" problem. While in Taiwan last March during the presidential election, I encountered a China-born "Taiwanese" citizen who proclaimed, "China has so many people, what's wrong [with] killing some Tibetans?"

Tan Lim
Canada (Apr 14, '08)

Taiwan's President Ma Ying-jeou weathers typhoon fallout

By Stephen A. Nelson
Asia Times Online

TAIPEI - In what looked like a game of political lifeboat, Taiwan's premier Liu Chao-shiuan resigned late last week - after the government was heavily criticized for what media reports called a "slow, incompetent and uncaring response" to last month's Typhoon Morakot.

And in this game of lifeboat, there are those who say Liu jumped - and those who say he was pushed.

"Of course President Ma Ying-jeou wanted him to quit," said Li Wai, a television producer who supported Ma in the last election but who now has her doubts about the man many people have labelled "the Teflon president".

"Ma will not tell you what he wants - still he will expect you to do it," said Li.

Such criticisms are becoming more common in Taiwan, even in pro-Kuomintang (KMT) - the island's ruling party - media, in the aftermath of Typhoon Morakot.

Typhoons are a regular occurrence in Taiwan. And each year the country gets hit by several such tropical storms. People are usually prepared for the worst. But in the wake of last month's Typhoon Morakot, parts of southern Taiwan received more than three meters of rain - three times the average annual rainfall - in just three days. This was in areas of Taiwan already made landslide-prone by earthquakes, harmful irrigation practices and devastation of natural forests cut down to make way for cash crops such as betel nut trees.

The number of dead and missing is now put at more than 700, after landslides buried villages, destroyed bridges and wiped out roads - mainly in southern Taiwan, and largely in aboriginal communities.

When Liu announced his resignation on September 7, he told reporters that someone had to take political responsibility for the death and destruction. As the country's top administrator, he said, that someone had to be him.

Less than an hour after Liu's announcement of resignation, Ma announced he would be replaced with Wu Den-yih - secretary general of Kuomintang. Another KMT stalwart, Eric Chu, was named as the new vice premier.

When Liu resigned, he was expected to take his entire 42-member cabinet with him. And indeed, the cabinet did resign en masse. But by the time the new premier Wu Den-yih named his new cabinet on September 10, only a handful of ministers had been tossed out of the lifeboat. Most of the ministers who had resigned with Liu were back in the cabinet with Wu. Critical changes include:

Shi Yen-shiang, chairman of China Petroleum Corp, Taiwan's biggest oil company, was named the new economics minister. Tsai Hsung-hsiung, a minister without portfolio, took over from Chen Tain-jy as head of Taiwan's economic-planning council. Former Veteran's Affairs Commission director Kao Hua-chu, an experienced and highly regarded military leader, was named the new minister of national defense. Taiwan's representative to Indonesia and a former de facto ambassador to Australia, Timothy Yang, is the new foreign minister. Former minister of the interior, Liao Liou-yi, is the new secretary general of the Presidential Office. Former chairman of the Research, Development and valuation Commission, Jiang Yi-huah, is the new interior minister. Critical areas where there is no change included Finance Minister Lee Sush-der and Mainland Affairs Council chairwoman Lai Shin-yuan - both of whom were reappointed to their posts. In responding to the cabinet shuffle, most international media reports focused on what effect the moves would have on Taiwan's relations with China, rather than what difference they would make to the people in Taiwan and how they would affect them. Ma's game of lifeboat was seen as "a move that is unlikely to alter the administration's pro-China policy". And it was reported that "most analysts see no significant changes in President Ma Ying-jeou's foreign, economic or China policies emerging from the new cabinet". Western media reports noted, "Taiwan's leaders typically replace top officials in response to criticism of the government." They said that Ma's predecessor, Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) leader Chen Shui-bian, "changed premiers six times in eight years, seldom causing alarm". Western media reports noted the reasons for the moves as Ma exercising damage control after what was seen as "his inability to take responsibility for a poor response to the emergency". Over the past few weeks, there has been considerable, pointed criticism in the press, especially over the typhoon's unusually high casualty rate. The critics argued that: The government had failed to order evacuations before the storm hit. People were not given enough warning to get out of the way of the mudslides. The government was not prepared, even though typhoons and mudslides are a regular occurrence in Taiwan. The government refused offers of aid from foreign countries because it didn't want to look like it was acting like a real country that was separate from China. When the aid did come, it was too little and too late - especially when compared to how quickly and easily Ma's government got aid to their "Chinese brothers" after the earthquakes in Sichuan province last year. Responding with "shock and awe" tactics, the KMT's solution has been to set up a commission - composed of central government officials and representatives of powerful corporations, without a single aboriginal member - to oversee the move of aboriginals off their ancestral lands and "voluntarily relocate" them to other, safer locations that are less prone to landslides. Most of all, Ma and the KMT have been unfeeling, uncaring and petulant toward southern Taiwan and the people - mostly ethnic Taiwanese and aboriginals - who lived there. Jerome Keating, author of Taiwan, the Struggles of a Democracy, said this came as no surprise from a president whom Keating claims had constantly passed the buck. "A week after the destruction of the typhoon with the yet to be realized response of Ma's government, Ma had resorted to the blame game. First it was the Central Weather Bureau's fault for not giving a strong enough warning to prepare for the typhoon. Then it was the local magistrate's fault for not solving the problem, despite the fact that they had had no budget from the central government. Then it was the people's fault for not getting out of the way of the floods," Keating said. "The people - in Ma's words - were not as 'fully prepared' as they should have been. In the end, it was just about everyone's fault except Ma's. After all, he is only the president," Keating said. Ma did visit the affected areas - although only after a delay; he did publicly apologize, and he has ordered a public investigation into what went wrong in preparing for the typhoon and in dealing with the disaster. Still, foreign media reports have certainly pointed out that in the cabinet reshuffle - and in letting Liu take the fall - there is both damage control and buck-passing. And while the cabinet change was expected, indeed demanded - does it really address the criticisms directed at the government - especially those directed at Ma? The consensus in the media and with political analysts seems to be "no" - and that it was never really meant to. It's really meant as medicine to ease upset Taiwanese stomachs and make them feel better, so that the government can get on with business. "Reshuffling won't deal with the problem," said Keating. "Wu is a good old boy, more of the same." Liu Bih-rong, a professor of political science at Soochow University, seemed to agree: "The people had a lot of pent-up anger over the response [to the typhoon]," he said. "Ma panicked and for a while he lost direction as he tried to do damage control. Now with the reshuffle and as people have calmed down, he can put it behind him and refocus on China and economic issues." Indeed, media reports noted "the change from Liu to Wu is unlikely to cause many major waves, as power in this country largely rests with the president rather than the premier". What the reshuffle will do, analysts said, is consolidate power with Ma. Wu and Chu are ranking KMT members, while Ma is ready to reclaim his crown as chairman of the KMT. The Taiwan News, for example, noted that both Wu and Chu "will surely be more decisive in crisis management or disaster response than their technocratic predecessors". But, the paper added, Wu and Chu are "also deeply linked with local KMT and financial factions". So while Ma is not all alone in the lifeboat, he is definitely more in command. But will the reshuffle help the KMT in local elections later this year? Maybe. Certainly the disastrous response to the typhoon seriously damaged the reputation of the good ship KMT, so throwing unpopular members overboard and taking on some new crew members can't hurt. Keating is among those who thinks that much will depend on the ability of the opposition DPP to exploit this weak link in the KMT's chain. But, observers note, elections in Taiwan tend to be won in two places: in the media and on the ground with local community organizations. And, the KMT has many friends in the media. Also, in many cities and towns, the KMT has more ground troops and is better organized than the DPP. Even where it does not have more local troops (in southern Taiwan, for example) the KMT - as one of the richest political parties in the world - has a much bigger war chest. But will the reshuffle, as some experts have already suggested, help Ma in his bid for re-election in 2012? Maybe not. As noted earlier, even some KMT-owned media have been openly critical of Ma. And foreign media seem far less enchanted with someone they practically fawned over just 18 months ago. In an article on the East Asia Forum web site, J Bruce Jacobs, director of the Taiwan Research Unit at Monash University in Melbourne, summed up the reaction this way, "In many ways, Hurricane Katrina destroyed the presidency of George W Bush. Quite possibly, Typhoon Morakot will destroy the presidency of Ma Ying-jeou." Li Wai put it another way, "Before he became president, we expected - we hoped - that Ma Ying-jeou would be a good president," she said. "Now we know he is not." Li Fong-yi, a Taipei office worker who voted for Ma last time, was less gracious: "Actually, we knew Ma Ying-jeou would not be a good president, but we had no choice," she said. "Frank Hsieh [Ma Ying-jeou's DPP opponent] came with too much baggage from the DPP." Stephen A Nelson is a Canadian freelance journalist now based in Toronto but with one foot still in Taiwan. For eight years he worked as a journalist in Taiwan, including at the Taipei Times newspaper and at Radio Taiwan International, where he produced Strait Talk - a weekly program about Taiwan and its place in the world.

Saving Face or Saving Lives? In China, It's Wrong Only If You Get Caught

By Stephen A. Nelson

Wednesday, Aug 22, 2007

Although it's not part of China, Taiwan has a vested interest in China's tainted toy troubles -- partly because Taiwan is one of the biggest investors in China, and China is Taiwan's biggest market. So "when China sneezes, Taiwan catches SARS."

But Taiwan is also an interested party because its own manufacturers have shown the same "Chinese" attitude toward labour laws and environmental laws: It's wrong only if you get caught. Or as a prominent Taipei lawyer once told me, "Rule of law is a foreign concept in Chinese society."

Taiwan has a history as a place for "outsourced" manufacturing of everything from microchips to Barbie dolls.

People in Taiwan know that big U.S. companies such as Mattel were getting their products made in Taiwan long before they were sending their production lines to China.

The reasons were simple: In the 1980s and 1990s, cheap labour, few labour laws and even fewer environmental laws were the hallmarks of a third-world dictatorship hell-bent on economic development.

And when Taiwan's fledgling democracy started to implement even minimal labour and environmental protections, those same big companies moved their production elsewhere: places like Vietnam and China. Places where labour and environmental laws -- when they exist -- are hardly ever enforced.

Disposable labour and a disposable environment are the very reasons why manufacturers set up in China. And China, hell-bent on economic development, welcomes them with open arms.

That's why China is poisoning its own people even as it produces toxic products for "foreign" consumption.

The Chinese response to being caught out is the same as in Taiwan: Blame someone, then get back to business as usual.

Inside the country, the impulse is to find the scapegoat and blame him. Make him pay. And in a society where guanxi (relationships/connections) is everything, the pressure for "heads to roll" can take a very dark and perverse turn.

That's why Zhang Shuhong (張樹鴻) -- co-owner of Lee Der (the Chinese supplier making tainted toys) -- ended up hanging himself.

To the rest of the world, the reaction is to blame the outsiders: "Don't blame us. Blame the foreigners. It's not up to us to enforce foreign standards. It's up to the foreign companies."

In short, the whole thing is a foreign problem.

Neither of these responses is particularly sane. Neither will save the environment or save consumers from potentially lethal products.

But they will, in Chinese eyes, save face. So if manufacturers, consumers, environmentalists and governments really want to protect themselves, we have to make it a matter of honour. And we have to make it clear to China that it will no longer be "business as usual."

All of us have to make the Chinese understand that the only way to restore their reputation (and their profits) is to stop blaming and start taking responsibility; stop treating safety standards as something "foreign" and start treating them as something essential to the future of China and the Chinese.

And here is where Taiwan could show leadership.

Taiwan could show the world that it is possible to stand up to Beijing and yet still do business with China. In fact, it could show the world that standing up to Beijing is essential to doing business with China.

The question is: Will Taiwan do it, or will it back down because it doesn't want to be accused of throwing stones while living in a glass house?

Lessons from 228: Taiwanese want to be protected - but from whom?

 The "228 Incident" is Taiwan's own Tiananmen Square and was the beginning of the Rape of Taiwan.
 Still, there are those who say, "Taiwanese don't want democracy. They want to be protected -- to be rich and to be protected."
But the question is "Protected from whom?"

The Struggle for Democracy: The 2004 Presidential Election

At a temple in Tainan County, a banner welcomes native son Chen Shui-bian home after his successful bid for re-election in 2004.

Adapted from CBC News Viewpoint
March 22, 2004

It's all over but the crying. The presidential election in Taiwan is finished, the votes have been counted, and – unless Taiwan's high court rules otherwise – Chen Shui-bian, of the independence-leaning Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), will be sworn in for a second term in May.

In winning a second term, Chen and his vice-president, Annette Lu, have defeated the pro-unification forces of Chinese Nationalist Party (Kuomintang, or KMT) leader Lien Chan and his running mate, James Soong.

Even before the failed assassination attempt on the lives of Chen and Lu, this closely fought battle had grabbed the world's attention because of one key issue: Taiwan's relationship with China. Now both the Taiwanese and the outside world are asking, "How will Chen's re-election affect that relationship?"

But to honestly answer that question, you first have to ask, "What was the relationship like before the election?"

The standard line is that Taiwan and China split in 1949 after a civil war in China, when Chiang Kai-shek's KMT forces lost to Mao Zedong's Communist forces. Mao formed the People's Republic of China (PRC) on the mainland, while Taiwan and it's surrounding islands became the last bastion of the KMT's Republic of China (ROC). Today, Beijing insists that the two entities on either side of the Taiwan Strait are part of "one China" that must be reunified – by force if necessary.

The reality is a little more complicated.

But it's enough to say that Taiwan has not always been part of China, and it has never been part of the PRC. For many years the KMT government seemed to have a "mutual understanding" with Beijing that kept the two sides at peace and allowed Taiwan to act as a sovereign state: an agreement in principle that there was one China, of which both Taiwan and the mainland were a part. In the KMT's mythology, this is what has become known as “the 1992 Consensus."

Conventional wisdom has it that the relationship has cooled considerably since Chen the sovereigntist took office in the year 2000. But conventional wisdom can be like an old wives' tale: just because you keep saying it doesn't make it true.

It's true that Taiwan and China have not had any of the unofficial talks that took place during the KMT's reign – the kind of "family meetings" that allowed China and Taiwan to live in peace even if they couldn't agree on living together. And it's also true that Chen has alarmed, frustrated and angered Beijing by declaring that Taiwan already is a sovereign nation and therefore has no need for a "declaration of independence."

But it must be noted that the cooling trend began long before Chen and the DPP took office in 2000. The relationship reached a nadir in 1999 – almost a year before Chen took office – when former KMT president Lee Tung-hui stated that Taiwan and China enjoyed a "special state-to-state relationship."

Beijing leaders responded to that pronouncement with bile and venom. They condemned Lee as a "separatist," suspended all discussions with Taipei, and again raised the spectre of a war to “reunify” Taiwan with the motherland. And they have done the same again with Chen Shui-bian.

Shortly after becoming president, Chen did offer olive branches to Beijing; but all his overtures were either flatly refused or ignored. Beijing and the pro-unification forces in Taiwan blame Chen for not recognizing the "one China" principle. Chen and the pro-sovereignty forces blame Beijing for refusing to treat Taiwan as an equal partner in any discussions.

In the past four years, there has been a lot of finger-wagging and showing of teeth from Beijing, but not as much sabre-rattling as in the past. And despite his provocative talk of sovereignty, Chen has shown himself to be a skilled political realist who knows how to push China's buttons without going too far.

So, while things have not improved under Chen's tenure, they're not really any worse.

Both sides hoped this election would be a watershed. Chen wanted a mandate for changes that would solidify Taiwan's identity as a separate and sovereign nation. Beijing on other hand, wanted rid of Chen and supported KMT Leader Lien Chan so that both sides could get back to talking about one China.

In this election, neither side got what it really wanted. Chen got re-elected by pushing the sovereignty issue, but with no real mandate for the kind of radical changes that independence would imply. And China must face the fact that the Taiwanese people have again chosen Chen and wish to be "maitres chez nous."

So the question now becomes, "What will the two sides do differently – what must they do differently – this time?"

The answer to the first part of that question is that nobody really knows.

The optimistic view, the hopeful view, is that Chen's election to a second term changes everything. Another man, backed by powerful business interests, might have made a deal with China that would have traded Taiwan's sovereignty for peace and prosperity. But this one will not, so China will realize it must now get over its distaste for separatists and deal with Chen.

Chen, having barely won an election he was supposed to lose, will reach out confidently and peacefully to China. He will make new overtures that Beijing – acting in enlightened self-interest – will respond to, so that growing economic ties between the two countries can proceed and both sides can continue to prosper in peace.

The skeptical view, some would say the realistic view, is that the election in Taiwan changes nothing. Beijing's policy toward Taiwan comes from decisions made inside the world of Chinese politics. There are both hawks and doves in Beijing, but the wind beneath their wings is the same: unification with Taiwan. There is not that much a president of Taiwan – especially an independence-minded president like Chen – can do about that.

Proponents of both views agree on the answer to the second part of the question: Chen now has the responsibility of making it easier for the "doves" in China to succeed. In other words, maybe he can't make Beijing change its mind and he can't make the leaders talk – but he can and must make them willing and able to talk.

That means toning down the independence rhetoric that makes the hawks want to pounce. It also means giving the doves some face, so that it doesn't look like they're giving up on the "one China" principle if they meet with Chen. Then and only then can any progress be made on key issues such as trade between the two countries.

Can any president do this and still make the Taiwanese feel that they are "maitres chez nous"?

If anybody can, Chen can. In the last four years, and again in this election campaign, he has proven himself to be a skilled political realist as well as a charismatic leader. But more importantly Chen – as the assassination attempt showed – is a survivor. He can take a bullet for the team and still come out alive.

Stephen A. Nelson is a Canadian freelance writer and broadcaster now living in Toronto.

BACKGROUND:
In 2000, two bitter rivals from the Chinese Nationalist Party (Kuomingtang or KMT) — Lien Chan and James Soong – had fought each other to become the KMT's presidential candidate. When Soong failed to get what he considered to be his by right, he split from the KMT – taking his supporters with him. The KMT, in turn, kicked him out of the party and said the same would happen for any of his supporters.

The very public and nasty split in the party resulted in the vote being split.

The “outcast” James Soong placed a close second in the election and nearly won.

The “chosen one” Lien Chan placed a very distant third.

The winner of the election was the dark horse: Chen Shui-bian, a former democracy-rights lawyer from the independence-minded Democratic Progressive Party (DPP).

Vowing never to let the separatist Chen win again, Lien Chan and James Soong buried the hatchet long enough to run a joint campaign against Chen in 2004. After an extremely acrimonious election campaign, Chen won again – this time by a razor thin margin in the popular vote.

The victory came just one day after an apparent assassination attempt on the lives of Chen and his running mate, Vice President Annette Lu. Chen and Lu were both wounded by bullets fired at them while they were travelling in an open motorcade.

On election night, Lien, Soong and their supporters rallied in streets of Taipei. They charged that the election had been stolen, the voting had been rigged, and that Chen had faked his own assassination attempt.

Lien and Soong vowed never to accept the results. They led a month-long series of protests designed to produce a "people power" coup. At the same time, they challenged the election results in the courts.

When this story was written – just days after the election, their case was still before the courts. Of course, the courts threw out the challenges, saying there was no evidence to support their accusations.

That didn't stop Lien, Soong and their supporters from orchestrating a campaign to depose Chien Shui-bian, calling on him to "step down." It's a campaign that lasted until the 2008 presidential election campaign won by the KMT's Ma Ying-jeou. It's a campaign Ma won with the help and support of Lien and Soong.

But now that Chen has actually "stepped down" at the end of his term, the accusation that he staged an assassination attempt on his own life continues to be an albatross that the KMT hangs around his neck.