This year's US State Department country report on human rights in Taiwan is, as always, very welcome. The good news first: In the last year, there was no arbitrary or unlawful killing, no politically motivated disappearances, no political prisoners, no government restrictions on the Internet, no government interference with academic work, no anti-Semitic acts or any other ethnic or religious conflict of note. There was freedom to conduct religious affairs, free and fair elections and a free media (so free that individual privacy continued to be violated by gormless camera crews).
The report made no mention, however, of the falling number of executions, nor the failure of the Chen administration to eradicate the death penalty entirely. By world standards, however, this is hardly a dramatic development.
But there is bad news, too.
Judicial corruption -- particularly the antics of bad-apple prosecutors and judges -- stands out, pointing to a legal system in need of serious review.
More worrying for the average person is the problem posed by police corruption. To this, locals would also add conspicuous police ineptitude and indifference, problems that will require steady changes in police culture to overcome. It is clear to those who must deal with the police that in practice the concept of due process remains nebulous, which of course can result in considerable convenience at times, but at other times the potential for gross violation of basic legal entitlements is stark.
The report cited the Control Yuan as playing a key role in looking into many of these problems, though it strangely did not mention that the pan-blue camp has frozen this watchdog arm of government.
An increase in violence against women and children is very disturbing, as is the claim that child prostitution (defined as under the age of 18) is continuing, especially involving Aboriginal children.
Trafficking of women, largely Chinese, for sexual exploitation and forced labor was also given close attention in the report, as was the scandalously light punishment meted out to brokers and families who exploit and even enslave domestic workers from Southeast Asia.
Not unfairly, the Council of Labor Affairs was painted in a poor light for presiding over a system that effectively seeds the exploitation of foreign workers.
Overall, however, the government can find comfort in a positive assessment of its efforts to maintain and improve the human rights environment.
The State Department's report is of considerable value because it speaks authoritatively about Taiwan while standing outside the partisan muddying that can overwhelm local human rights discourse. Indeed, compared with the lack of enthusiasm that many in the State Department feel toward Taiwan in general, the report is like a bouquet: It embraces Taiwanese and foreigners here as human beings worthy of respect and protection. And because politicians on both sides are loath to openly denigrate the US for daring to pass judgement on their country (a comparison with China on this point is irresistible), the report obtains an unusual credibility.
Comparisons with China's dire human rights environment, while tempting, are irrelevant. Taiwan must set its own standard for the protection and promotion of human rights and seek to reach that standard.
Human rights are not simply the pet project of a middle class with too much time on its hands; they are a lattice of litmus tests of how well a government and a society function in relation to the law and the extent to which common decency extends throughout the community. It is hoped that the measured criticisms in this report can energize those who aim to craft a more stable, just and dignified nation.
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,