I recently read in a newspaper here in Hong Kong that the DPP administration has designs on renaming the White Terror Temple as "Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall."
Memorial? Much has happened since I left Taiwan a half year ago. Is the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) planning to declare martial law -- which, now that I think of it, might be a balm for their political blundering -- or is there still no one in their ranks who understands English?
I read also that the administration rightly wishes to remove Chiang Kai-shek's (
This begs the question of what to put in his place. I've got a few suggestions.
After first melting the dead dictator into commemorative coins, the space the statue currently occupies might make suitable digs to display, say, a new constitution, which would justify the "Democracy" part of the building's new title -- if not the "Memorial" part.
Or, foregoing this, how about a Taiwan Liquor Corp display case with Taiwan Beer and kaoliang (sorghum wine). After all, these beverages have done more to form bonds among diverse ethnic groups than anyone or anything else.
Of course, to be practical, the beer and kaoliang would need to be available for consumption. And given that the nearest convenience store is blocks away, perhaps the space should be converted into the world's most ostentatious 7-Eleven. Given that Taiwan has more of the brightly lit convenience stores than almost anywhere else on the planet, nothing could be more representative ... except for a betel nut stand, of which there are more.
That's it, I think: A big, blue-roofed betel nut stand, neon-lit and staffed by Lin Chi-lin (
Ah, Democracy! I remember it well.
David Momphard
Hong Kong
In Kaohsiung, on the evening of March 13, the Kaohsiung City Government began changing the sign of the Chiang Kai-shek Cultural Center; it will be replaced with a sign reading "Kaohsiung Cultural Center."
I hadn't even heard much about this decision until there were television reports of "blue" minded folks out there that night, protesting the removal of "Chiang Kai-shek" from the sign.
What a contrast compared to all the brouhaha over changing the name of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall to the "Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall" and the proposed demolition of its outer walls.
On March 2, Premier Su Tseng-chang (蘇貞昌) announced that the walls of the memorial hall would be demolished.
Soon after, it was leaked that Minister of Education Tu Cheng-sheng (杜正勝) had presided over a closed-door Cabinet meeting (on March 2) to rename the hall.
Though the Cabinet had approved the name change and demolition of the outer walls, the Taipei City Government stepped in, using its authority as the memorial's managing body to invoke articles 12 and 17 of the Cultural Resources Preservation Act (文化資產保存法).
This legislation allows the Taipei Department of Cultural Affairs to declare the hall a temporary historical monument, allowing the debate to drag out for at least another year.
The Cultural Resources Preservation Act states that a building must be at least 50 years old to be declared a historical monument. The Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall is about 27 years old; it is the newest building on record to be evaluated for its cultural and historical significance.
If it were up to me, I'd prefer a mass removal of any and all relics related to the Chiang regime, no holds barred. But if they must remain I'm not necessarily in favor of simply changing the name, or beautifying the building.
If the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall is to remain, facts should be posted to enlighten the public on how Chiang Kai-shek governed the island and "safeguarded" the interests of its residents. These facts would include his imposing martial law in 1949, ordering the systematic elimination (murders) of intellectuals in the events associated with the 228 Incident and implementing policies to "reeducate" the people of Taiwan.
A sound understanding of historical events and context seems to be in order here.
To me, the renaming of buildings like the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall seems like an exacerbation of the already pathological view that the Taiwanese have of their national identity.
Felicia Lin
Kaohsiung
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,
RSS