Amid commemorations of democracy advocate Deng Nan-jung (鄭南榕), who self-immolated 26 years ago today in defense of the free expression of a desire for Taiwanese independence, it is important to reflect upon how free speech has been preserved in Taiwan since democratization.
The general perception remains strong that Taiwan protects the freedom of expression, but attention must be paid to disturbing developments that might translate into significant restrictions of the freedom.
The attempt by President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) administration to censor the Internet — stipulated under a proposed amendment to the National Security Act (國家安全法) that extends national security to include the Internet as a potential threat — to encourage citizens to report on any content considered threatening to national security or seen as external influence provides a prominent example.
Critics have said that the proposed amendment — which the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) legislative caucus has placed high on its agenda for this legislative session — would reincarnate the Martial Law era, when legal sanctions and social disapprobation were often used to curtail free speech.
The proposed amendment echoes the former Article 100 of the Criminal Code, which was used to charge Deng with sedition after the publication of Freedom Era Weekly (自由時代週刊) issue No. 254, which included A Draft Republic of Taiwan Constitution, written by Koh Se-kai (許世楷) on World Human Rights Day in December 1988.
It was not until Article 100 of the Criminal Code — which criminalized even certain ideas as insurrection — was amended in May 1992, three years after Deng’s death, that advocacy for Taiwanese independence became legal.
However, although championing Taiwanese independence is no longer illegal, advocates face challenges. They often encounter “thought police,” with activists described as “irrational,” “irresponsible” or “ignorant of international realities.”
Despite the increasing public support for Taiwanese independence indicated in multiple surveys, the “thought police” have suggested politicians avoid expressions that might offend China and the US.
The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) in 1999 adopted its “Resolution on Taiwan’s Future,” saying that “the future of the nation is to be determined solely by its 23 million people.” The “independence clause” is still in existence for the sake of votes, but not as an objective the party would actively pursue.
Speculation has recently re-emerged that the DPP might have a new version of the resolution that is more palatable to China and the US, as DPP Chairperson Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) apparently labored to remain politically correct by avoiding directly quoting the resolution when asked about the US’ concerns over her ability to handle cross-strait issues. Instead, Tsai employed ambiguity to avoid sensitivities.
“We understand the importance of maintaining peace and stability, but we must also maintain Taiwan’s best interests and give the current generation and beyond the most options,” she said.
Meanwhile, amid questions over how his opinion of the so-called “1992 consensus” would affect exchanges between Taipei and Shanghai, Taipei Mayor Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) proposed another perspective: No one in the world believes there are “two Chinas,” and therefore “one China” is not a problem.
The world is in a state of flux, which demands policy adjustments. However, the right to express a desire for independence, or for unification or other appeals, must be protected as 100 percent freedom of expression. This is what Deng fought for and how he is remembered.
Could Asia be on the verge of a new wave of nuclear proliferation? A look back at the early history of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), which recently celebrated its 75th anniversary, illuminates some reasons for concern in the Indo-Pacific today. US Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin recently described NATO as “the most powerful and successful alliance in history,” but the organization’s early years were not without challenges. At its inception, the signing of the North Atlantic Treaty marked a sea change in American strategic thinking. The United States had been intent on withdrawing from Europe in the years following
My wife and I spent the week in the interior of Taiwan where Shuyuan spent her childhood. In that town there is a street that functions as an open farmer’s market. Walk along that street, as Shuyuan did yesterday, and it is next to impossible to come home empty-handed. Some mangoes that looked vaguely like others we had seen around here ended up on our table. Shuyuan told how she had bought them from a little old farmer woman from the countryside who said the mangoes were from a very old tree she had on her property. The big surprise
The issue of China’s overcapacity has drawn greater global attention recently, with US Secretary of the Treasury Janet Yellen urging Beijing to address its excess production in key industries during her visit to China last week. Meanwhile in Brussels, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen last week said that Europe must have a tough talk with China on its perceived overcapacity and unfair trade practices. The remarks by Yellen and Von der Leyen come as China’s economy is undergoing a painful transition. Beijing is trying to steer the world’s second-largest economy out of a COVID-19 slump, the property crisis and
Former president Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) trip to China provides a pertinent reminder of why Taiwanese protested so vociferously against attempts to force through the cross-strait service trade agreement in 2014 and why, since Ma’s presidential election win in 2012, they have not voted in another Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) candidate. While the nation narrowly avoided tragedy — the treaty would have put Taiwan on the path toward the demobilization of its democracy, which Courtney Donovan Smith wrote about in the Taipei Times in “With the Sunflower movement Taiwan dodged a bullet” — Ma’s political swansong in China, which included fawning dithyrambs