Amendments to the Assembly and Parade Act (集會遊行法) were reviewed and passed by the legislature’s Internal Administration Committee last week.
In addition to the renaming of the act, other major proposed changes that won approval included the removal of a requirement to apply for a permit before holding a protest or the obligation to notify authorities in advance, thereby removing law enforcement authorities’ power to disperse “unpermitted” demonstrations.
A Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) legislator called the committee’s vote the “advent of the people’s era,” and he was right in two ways.
First, once the amendments formally become law, people will have the right to voice their dissent on the street without having to “ask for permission” or be subjected to the whims of law enforcement authorities. Second, the DPP, having won January’s presidential and legislative elections by tapping into the public’s anger, which found expression in street protests, cannot stand in the way of the deregulation of laws restricting demonstrations.
An overhaul of the act has always faced the problem of alternation of power: Whoever holds executive power tends to adopt a more conservative mindset when it comes to regulating potential protests and dissenters in the name of maintaining social order.
For example, when Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) was president, the DPP — which at that time was a minority in the legislature — stalled amendments to the act that were proposed by Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) lawmakers. Ironically, this obstruction came at the height of protests by the “red shirt army” demanding Chen’s resignation. When the KMT returned to the Presidential Office in 2008, it blocked the easing of restrictions on protests. However, this time around, KMT lawmakers, who have been reduced to a minority, either did not block or supported the DPP’s amendments.
DPP Legislator Cheng Li-chun (鄭麗君), the main proponent of the latest amendments, acted at the right time — deliberately calculated or not — by pressuring the committee to accelerate its review of the amendments.
On the one hand, Cheng, the designated minister of culture, is to leave the Legislative Yuan after the DPP government is sworn in tomorrow. The passage of the amendments would be the fulfillment of a promise to activists with whom she has worked closely on various human rights laws since she was elected to the legislature in 2008.
On the other hand, while the DPP won both the January elections, it has yet to officially hold power in both branches of government, so the party’s reformist lawmakers have enjoyed a “limbo” period in which the DPP, while dominating the legislature, has yet to be burdened by all of the political realities of a governing party.
It would nevertheless be hard to imagine that after taking over the presidency, the DPP would resist calls to overhaul the Assembly and Parade Act. This is hard to imagine not because the DPP’s progressiveness is to be trusted, but because the group of people who catapulted it to the corridors of power this time did so out of their deep disappointment with the KMT.
These people have already challenged the government’s policies in the form of face-to-face confrontations on the streets and therefore have the most experience with the absurdity of the restrictions.
A revision of the Assembly and Parade Act would be — as the DPP lawmaker has said, and which the party should take heed of — the “advent” of an era in which the people — particularly those honed in the power of the Internet and eight years of street protests — would continue to demand more rights from the government.
As the Chinese proverb goes: “Water can float a boat as it can capsize it.” The DPP administration is right about having no honeymoon period with the people.
A Chinese diplomat’s violent threat against Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi following her remarks on defending Taiwan marks a dangerous escalation in East Asian tensions, revealing Beijing’s growing intolerance for dissent and the fragility of regional diplomacy. Chinese Consul General in Osaka Xue Jian (薛劍) on Saturday posted a chilling message on X: “the dirty neck that sticks itself in must be cut off,” in reference to Takaichi’s remark to Japanese lawmakers that an attack on Taiwan could threaten Japan’s survival. The post, which was later deleted, was not an isolated outburst. Xue has also amplified other incendiary messages, including one suggesting
Chinese Consul General in Osaka Xue Jian (薛劍) on Saturday last week shared a news article on social media about Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s remarks on Taiwan, adding that “the dirty neck that sticks itself in must be cut off.” The previous day in the Japanese House of Representatives, Takaichi said that a Chinese attack on Taiwan could constitute “a situation threatening Japan’s survival,” a reference to a legal legal term introduced in 2015 that allows the prime minister to deploy the Japan Self-Defense Forces. The violent nature of Xue’s comments is notable in that it came from a diplomat,
Before 1945, the most widely spoken language in Taiwan was Tai-gi (also known as Taiwanese, Taiwanese Hokkien or Hoklo). However, due to almost a century of language repression policies, many Taiwanese believe that Tai-gi is at risk of disappearing. To understand this crisis, I interviewed academics and activists about Taiwan’s history of language repression, the major challenges of revitalizing Tai-gi and their policy recommendations. Although Taiwanese were pressured to speak Japanese when Taiwan became a Japanese colony in 1895, most managed to keep their heritage languages alive in their homes. However, starting in 1949, when the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) enacted martial law
“Si ambulat loquitur tetrissitatque sicut anas, anas est” is, in customary international law, the three-part test of anatine ambulation, articulation and tetrissitation. And it is essential to Taiwan’s existence. Apocryphally, it can be traced as far back as Suetonius (蘇埃托尼烏斯) in late first-century Rome. Alas, Suetonius was only talking about ducks (anas). But this self-evident principle was codified as a four-part test at the Montevideo Convention in 1934, to which the United States is a party. Article One: “The state as a person of international law should possess the following qualifications: a) a permanent population; b) a defined territory; c) government;