Florian Henckel Von Donners-marck's film The Lives of Others won an Oscar for best foreign language film of 2006 and recently picked up a British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) award for best non-English language film.
While the film takes place in East Berlin, it resonates soundly in Taiwan because it provides a strong, sobering insight into what life was like under a totalitarian regime.
The regime was the German Democratic Republic, but the lack of human rights, lack of press freedom and the constant surveillance by an elaborate system of spies and informants could apply to any one-party state dictatorship, including Taiwan during the years of the Chiang dictatorship and its Taiwan Garrison Command.
Visiting the former East Germany today, it is hard to imagine the brutal and fear-infested atmosphere that existed when it was under communist rule.
Similarly, visitors to Taiwan today will find it hard to imagine the fear and suspicion that existed here some 20 years ago under martial law.
This contrast is what drives the film and makes it all the more poignant.
In the film a Stasi agent, Gerd Wiesler, is directed by his chief and former classmate Anton Grubitz to find evidence that could convict a popular playwright and director Georg Dreyman of disloyalty to the state.
Grubitz's motivation comes more from the desire for promotion and power than any real ideological conviction.
As for true ideological conviction, certainly the rare combination of personal honesty, support of the regime and intelligence are hard to find in any one-party state dictatorship.
One commentator suggests it is possible to combine two of the above in such a state, but not all three. In the film, Wiesler tries to combine all three but suffers as a result.
To see how this plays out, and how the lives of others are affected and destroyed by the Stasi's methods, you must see the film.
At the height of its Cold War power, the Stasi had more 100,000 employees, more 200,000 informants and files on more than 6 million people. The extent of its abuse of citizens' rights and its spying network only became evident after the Berlin Wall fell in November 1989 and East Berliners took control of the Stasi headquarters in January 1990 to prevent Stasi personnel from destroying the records.
Parallels abound between the once one-party state of East Germany and its methods of control and those of Taiwan. In both, the existence of that rare combination of personal honesty, support of the regime and intelligence was hard to find.
However, Taiwan, which has now achieved its own democracy, suffers as a result of one glaring difference: The Stasi were prevented from destroying most of the damning evidence against it. The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), however, has had more than 20 years to sanitize its Martial Law era record.
Even now the party still blocks any accounting of its stolen assets and past crimes.
As the film ends, Dreyman has managed to survive because Wiesler withheld some damning evidence against him. Dreyman meets Hempf, a profiteering former minister turned successful businessman.
Hempf -- as if in justification for his continued wealth and position -- says to him: "Our former little republic [East Germany] wasn't all that bad, was it?"
Dreyman answers: "To think, people like you once ruled our country."
In Taiwan, people like Hempf not only still rule, but aspire to higher office.
Jerome Keating is a Taiwan-based writer.
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,