Many people might find it hard to believe that my favorite class in high school was taught by a military instructor, whose name, Fu Chun (傅駿), I still remember.
Fu was a graduate of Wuhan University and he was deeply knowledgeable about literature, history and philosophy. Unlike other military instructors, he seldom spouted anti-communist cliches. One time in class he gave a lengthy talk about British philosopher Bertrand Russell, which struck a chord with me as I happened to be a big fan of Russell at that time. That was all more than 40 years ago.
Yet regardless of how much I enjoyed Fu’s class, for the past 40 years, I have fought to abolish this system, which requires students to take military training with military instructors, as I believe it is unreasonable.
My reasons for opposing the system have been deeply influenced by the liberal thinking of Russell and Taiwanese activist Yin Hai-kuang (殷海光), but even without delving too deeply into liberal philosophy, anyone with a bit of common sense and understanding of democracy would wonder why military personnel should be in charge of education in schools in a democratic nation.
Some argue that military instructors should be on campuses because many take care good care of students, but that argument is irrelevant, as it concerns individual behavior rather than the system.
Although there were some good court eunuchs in ancient China, that did not mean it was a good system worth keeping.
The original purpose of placing military instructors at schools was to establish a military training system which would enable thought control. One year after Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) and his regime fled to Taiwan, the government began researching and drafting military training plans for high schools and above, and in 1953, the Executive Yuan announced the Regulations for Implementing Military Training in High schools and Above (高級中等以上學校學生軍訓實施辦法).
Under the act, military officers were sent to schools to serve as instructors at the military training office, in charge of issues related to student conduct. All school military training was directed by the China Youth Anti-Communist Nation Salvation Corps, then led by Chiang’s son Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國).
The corps was founded in 1952 under the Ministry of National Defense’s General Political Warfare Department, in accordance with Chiang Kai-shek’s policy to fight communism and “retake the mainland.” It was designed to “help young people build a good political understanding and prevent communist infiltration.”
In 1960, the Ministry of Education established the Department of Students’ Military Training, took over all issues related to student military training and tightened the rules. Under those rules, high-school students who fail military training class must retake the class and cannot advance the next grade; students that fail the class a second time can be expelled. Likewise, college and university students who have failed military training classes are not able to graduate. These rules show that so-called military training is in reality a system designed to control students by brainwashing and monitoring them.
I was born about the time when the China Youth Anti-Communist Nation Salvation Corps and the military instructor system came into being. In May 1973, while in my 20s as a student majoring in education at National Chengchi University and influenced by democratic thinking, I published an article entitled “The future of personality education” in issue No. 64 of the Intellectual, advocating “the separation of education and military affairs,” specifically by making military personnel leave campuses.
My article had absolutely no impact, with the exception of me being given a “major demerit” by the school. In my junior year I published more articles related to the issue, which eventually led to my expulsion. That is what happens when thought control takes precedence over education.
Following the authoritarian rule of Chiang Kai-shek and his son, many people have questioned the necessity of having military instructors on campuses. Is a system of brainwashing the public really an effective way to achieve the goal to fight communism and help “restore the mainland”?
The answer should be very clear after taking a look at the likes of Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Hung Hsiu-chu (洪秀柱) and former president Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九), who have not only given up fighting communism, but continually fawn over the Chinese Communist Party.
It is quite apparent that the military instructor system has failed to fulfill its original purpose of promoting anti-communism and help “restore the mainland.” As Taiwan has become a democratic nation, it only makes sense that military instructors be retired from campuses.
Certain reactionaries within the KMT have defended the system, saying that today’s military instructors are no longer in charge of thought control and are essential for campus safety — which is simply illogical.
A military officer’s job is to protect the country against its enemies. Since when have they been relegated to merely handling campus security? If that is really their job, how are they any different from security guards?
Lee Hsiao-feng is a professor at the Graduate School of Taiwanese Culture at National Taipei University of Education.
Translated by Tu Yu-an
Taiwan stands at the epicenter of a seismic shift that will determine the Indo-Pacific’s future security architecture. Whether deterrence prevails or collapses will reverberate far beyond the Taiwan Strait, fundamentally reshaping global power dynamics. The stakes could not be higher. Today, Taipei confronts an unprecedented convergence of threats from an increasingly muscular China that has intensified its multidimensional pressure campaign. Beijing’s strategy is comprehensive: military intimidation, diplomatic isolation, economic coercion, and sophisticated influence operations designed to fracture Taiwan’s democratic society from within. This challenge is magnified by Taiwan’s internal political divisions, which extend to fundamental questions about the island’s identity and future
The narrative surrounding Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s attendance at last week’s Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) summit — where he held hands with Russian President Vladimir Putin and chatted amiably with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) — was widely framed as a signal of Modi distancing himself from the US and edging closer to regional autocrats. It was depicted as Modi reacting to the levying of high US tariffs, burying the hatchet over border disputes with China, and heralding less engagement with the Quadrilateral Security dialogue (Quad) composed of the US, India, Japan and Australia. With Modi in China for the
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) has postponed its chairperson candidate registration for two weeks, and so far, nine people have announced their intention to run for chairperson, the most on record, with more expected to announce their campaign in the final days. On the evening of Aug. 23, shortly after seven KMT lawmakers survived recall votes, KMT Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) announced he would step down and urged Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕) to step in and lead the party back to power. Lu immediately ruled herself out the following day, leaving the subject in question. In the days that followed, several
The Jamestown Foundation last week published an article exposing Beijing’s oil rigs and other potential dual-use platforms in waters near Pratas Island (Dongsha Island, 東沙島). China’s activities there resembled what they did in the East China Sea, inside the exclusive economic zones of Japan and South Korea, as well as with other South China Sea claimants. However, the most surprising element of the report was that the authors’ government contacts and Jamestown’s own evinced little awareness of China’s activities. That Beijing’s testing of Taiwanese (and its allies) situational awareness seemingly went unnoticed strongly suggests the need for more intelligence. Taiwan’s naval
RSS