Following months of pressure from rights advocates and high-profile celebrities, film director Steven Spielberg last month opted out of his role as artistic adviser to the Beijing Olympics, a move that was praised by many -- except those in Beijing.
As a filmmaker with a conscience who gave us, among others, Schindler's List and Munich (the Olympic link couldn't be more obvious), Spielberg's association with a government that has no compunction in supporting the genocidal regime in Sudan was also proving too damaging to his image.
But while Spielberg has been the focus of all the bad publicity, other advisers to the Games have managed to avoid pressure -- and one of them is Taiwan's Ang Lee (
Lee's reasons to reconsider his role as an arts and culture consultant for the Games (under Chinese director Zhang Yimou [
Beijing's agenda hit closer to home over the weekend when the government announced that Chinese actress Tang Wei (
In and of itself, this should be sufficient to dispel any illusion that art and politics do not mix, for in Beijing's world, politics -- World War II, Sino-Japanese relations -- are being used to destroy an artist's livelihood.
While artists may seek to transcend political differences, they should never lose sight of the fact that they, too, have responsibilities and that art, even in its "purest" form, cannot be apolitical. As role models, artists of Lee's caliber are in a far better position to fire imaginations -- and ultimately influence views -- than most politicians. Consequently, by choosing to work with Beijing or by remaining silent in the face of injustice, Lee could be seen to be rationalizing Chinese repression.
As George Orwell observed: The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.
And now, should he remain silent on Beijing's attack on one of its own, Lee would send a signal that it is acceptable for a government to use politics to violate freedom of expression and dictate what artists can and cannot address in their work.
In fact, by accepting Beijing's invitation to serve as an adviser to the Games, Lee was telling the world that it was negotiable for China to ban his previous movie, Brokeback Mountain.
If genocide in Sudan, the jailing of Chinese dissidents, the suppression of Taiwan and molestation of Tibet are not enough to change Lee's mind, then perhaps this latest overt attack against one of his creations and one of his stars will be the last straw.
Lee now has no choice but to put aside the "softly, softly" approach, stand by Tang's side and follow in Spielberg's footsteps.
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,
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