Seemingly isolated incidents observed over a given period of time can, if they occur frequently enough, form a pattern. This is what appears to be emerging under President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) administration in terms of how it handles the right of ordinary people and the media to freely express their opinions.
Though the origins of this process can be traced back to the early days of the Ma administration, this month alone confronted us with a series of incidents involving government intrusion into the realm of freedom of expression.
First was a notice by the Ministry of Education to the Professional Technology Temple’s (PTT) Gossip Board, a popular online bulletin board hosted by National Taiwan University, calling on administrators to request that users tone down their political rhetoric to ensure a “cleaner” environment. Although Minister of Education Wu Ching-ji (吳清基) called the notice a “friendly reminder,” PTT users by the hundreds saw it differently, referring to it as the imposition of “martial law on the Internet.”
Then, less than a week later, came the outburst over comments by political commentator Cheng Hung-yi (鄭弘儀), who during a public event used “improper” language when referring to Ma and subsidies for Chinese students. What should have been a minor incident was instantly turned, both by the Ma administration and pan-blue media, into the public crucifixion of an individual who disagreed with the administration’s policies.
This was followed a few days later by a threat by Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Secretary-General King Pu-tsung (金溥聰) to take legal action against commentators on another political talk show — this time on Formosa TV (FTV) — to “defend the KMT’s reputation” over comments that “departed from the truth.”
As with the PTT board, a letter was sent to FTV’s management. Prior to this, former KMT chairman Wu Po-hsiung (吳伯雄) had filed a lawsuit against the Liberty Times (the Taipei Times’ sister newspaper) and King had sued yet another political commentator, Chung Nien-huang (鍾年晃).
All had, in one way or another, been discussing highly controversial rulings in corruption cases against former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁).
Upon unleashing its crusade against talking heads, the KMT maintained it was not targeting the media per se, but rather the “extreme stances” taken by the commentators, which could nevertheless lead those outlets to impose self-censorship.
All of this occurred days after Ma, publicly denouncing a court ruling that cleared Chen of bribery charges in one of the many cases against him, said the decision did not meet the “will” and “expectations” of the people.
Combining these remarks with the KMT accusing its detractors of “departing from the truth,” we see a political party that believes it has a prerogative on the “truth” and “reality.” Anyone who opposes that, therefore, is fair game for a “friendly reminder,” a soft authoritarian tool if ever there was one. Should this practice be allowed to continue, the chilling effect on the media’s role of helping shape, define and redefine reality could be serious.
Patterns aside, we wouldn’t have reason to worry so much were it not for the KMT’s decades-long history of assault on freedom of speech during the White Terror era. We also wouldn’t have reason to worry so much were it not for the Ma administration’s cozying up to an authoritarian regime in Beijing that has perfected the art of information control.
The Ma administration and the KMT are fully aware that their cross-strait policies, let alone the politicization of the judiciary, are unpopular with Taiwanese. Consequently, and still bent on forging ahead with total disregard for the wishes of the people, they have little choice but to crack down on dissent so that “reality” — as defined by sanitized, self-censored public debate — continues to provide the illusion that their policies have wide popular support.
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,