On May 18, 1980, students in Gwangju, South Korea, rallied against martial law. The Gwangju Uprising was soon suppressed, as then-South Korean general Chun Doo-hwan sent in troops to crush the protests. Consequently, 154 people were killed, 70 people disappeared and 3,028 were injured.
Fortunately, thanks to photographs taken by German reporter Jurgen Hinzpeter, the world learned the truth. After Chun became South Korean president later that year, the uprising was defined as a rebellion instigated by communists and their sympathizers.
The similarities between events in South Korea and Taiwan’s 228 Incident are remarkable. Both culminated in numerous deaths, and both governments utilized the same rhetoric and narrative to frame the social movement as a rebellion instigated by communists.
One thing is different, though. After his presidential term ended, Chun was on Dec. 3, 1995, arrested on charges of conspiracy and insurrection. Although he denied that he ordered military forces to suppress the protests, Chun was sentenced to life in prison.
In the 1990s, victims of the uprising were compensated. More than 200 teachers and a dozen professors who were laid off during the uprising won a lawsuit in which they demanded compensation from the South Korean government.
On the other hand, although many more people were killed in the 228 Incident — a number that could be 100 times higher than in the Gwangju Uprising — no perpetrators have been tracked down. After 76 years, the slaughterers have not been summoned to stand trial, let alone be convicted.
An even greater difference is how the slaughterers’ descendants reacted. On Friday last week, Chun’s grandson Chun Woo-won knelt down and apologized for what his grandfather had done.
Women who lost their loved ones during the Gwangju Uprising — also known as the “mothers of May — accepted Chun Woo-won’s apology, embracing him in tears.
It was a perfect example of transitional justice. The perpetrators, or their descendants, apologize, and their victims, or their families, forgive them for their wrongdoings. Only thereafter can reconciliation between the two parties be reached.
Taiwan’s case is quite different. Given that the slaughterers of the 228 Incident have not been identified, the grandchildren (or great-grandchildren) of the perpetrators do not have to kneel down and apologize to the victims’ families.
Moreover, some have intentionally distorted the truth, claiming that the 228 Incident was merely an act of pacification rather than a massacre. Some have asked the public to look forward rather than backward. If so, what is the purpose of teaching history in compulsory education? For some, the perpetrators do not have to apologize for their wrongdoings, and the victims should simply reconcile with them.
The 228 Incident is a typical event showcasing the violence of the state. Today, after 76 years, it will be difficult to discover and preserve direct evidence.
During the Sunflower movement in 2014, even though then-premier Jiang Yi-huah (江宜樺) said that police on March 24 did not use excessive force to evict students from the Executive Yuan, photographs and video footage from the scene proved otherwise. Students were severely beaten; civilians were covered with blood.
Evidence has shown that the “324” incident is a demonstration of state violence. After nine years, the Control Yuan has finally issued corrective notices over the failures of the Executive Yuan, the Ministry of the Interior, the National Police Agency, the Taipei Police Department and the Taipei District Prosecutors’ Office. Yet it is still highly doubtful whether the perpetrators will be brought to court.
Apparently, Taiwan still has a long way to go to achieve transitional justice.
Chang Kuo-tsai is a retired National Hsinchu University of Education associate professor.
Translated by Emma Liu
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