“First they came for the Communists, but I was not a Communist so I did not speak out ... Then they came for the Jews, but I was not Jewish so I did not speak out. And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me.”
These are the famous words of German pastor Martin Niemoeller during World War II about not stepping forward sooner and speaking out against the Nazis.
Considering the various controversial social and judicial incidents that have arisen in the past three years, many cannot help but be reminded of Niemoeller’s statement as concern brews over what further absurdity could happen next if a majority of the public continues to stay silent on what happens to other people.
Such apprehensions were renewed as the public was treated to news that three protesters who appealed to President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) last year over the issue of land expropriation for the construction of an elevated railway in Taoyuan had been indicted, with prosecutors recommending a seven-year sentence for each one of them.
While prosecutors charged the protesters with obstruction of public affairs and violating the Assembly and Parade Act (集會遊行法), accusing them of inciting a scuffle with police, the defendants told a press conference on Tuesday that they had been tricked by the police, who apparently changed the protest venue at the last minute and started pushing the crowd before turning around to pin the blame on the protesters.
As the case awaits a final ruling from the judges who convened a hearing yesterday, indictments with such heavy sentences for people airing their grievances are nonetheless dumbfounding. The indictments are even more absurd when one considers another report yesterday in which a Taiwanese software engineer convicted of gathering classified information on Taiwan’s Patriot missile defense system on Beijing’s behalf was sentenced to a mere one-and-a-half years in jail.
So, a convicted spy receives only a slap on the wrist, whereas civil protesters face hefty sentences? What has become of the nation’s social justice?
When individuals waving national flags had them boorishly snatched away by police when Chinese envoy Chen Yunlin (陳雲林) visited Taipei in November 2008, many among the public chose to remain silent, thinking such incidents only happen to political activists. When farmlands in different parts of the country were razed by bulldozers because of the government’s controversial expropriation projects, many also kept quiet. They thought themselves lucky they were not farmers, and hence, need not get involved. And now with the plight facing the residents of Taoyuan, some may still think it is none of their business and thank God they are not among the affected residents.
For people harboring such social apathy, it may only be a matter of time before it hits home and they find themselves at the center of controversy and under the hot glare of the media spotlight.
Timely outspokenness and persistent pressure are needed to deal with any arrogant and unjust display of power before more people suffer social injustice and the nation’s standing as a free and democratic country deteriorates further.
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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