The word “fence” has different meanings. As a noun, it can denote a barrier or divider. Robert Frost has the well-known line, “Good fences make good neighbors,” in his poem Mending Wall. The verb “to fence” describes a sport of swordsmanship where opponents use blunted foils, epees or sabers to register hits on each other.
But there is third, and totally different, meaning. “Fence” can also describe a person who receives and sells stolen goods or who acts as a conduit for stolen goods; this is the meaning that Taiwanese need to become aware of, because it concerns their president.
In the world of crime, thieves often steal things not for their personal use but for the profit from resale value. An art thief will steal famous works of art not because he has a taste for art, but because he knows private collectors will secretly pay good money for them. Diamond thieves steal diamonds and jewelry not because they have a flair for wearing jewelry but again because these items have a high resale value. Even petty thieves who want quick cash will steal lesser items if the items are in high enough demand to secure a quick resale.
To accomplish and profit from these actions, the thieves need a fence. In such transactions, the fence makes a handsome commission from the sale price of the stolen goods; the thief, while not getting market value for the stolen goods, still makes a sizeable profit. The buyer profits because he gets the stolen item for less than the normal market value. The only one who loses is the person whose property is stolen.
This poses an interesting ethical question: Whose crime is worse, that of the thief, that of the fence or that of the buyer if he or she knows the purchase involves stolen goods?
When the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) came to Taiwan, it took over not only the nation’s assets but even the private property of individuals. These are what are often referred to in matters of transitional justice as the “stolen state assets” — though the personal assets of families should also be included in these crimes. With the KMT running a party-state, some of these assets went directly to KMT members and families while others benefited the party as a whole.
How many homes did dictator Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) possess? Which KMT families got hold of ready-made businesses? With KMT control of the National Assembly, the Legislative Yuan and the courts for nearly a half a century, the paper trail for such thievery has been destroyed and/or buried.
Further, under martial law, anyone who challenged such theft would end up dead, in prison or, at a minimum, helpless with no recourse to the courts. As a result the KMT became — and remains — one of the richest political parties in the world.
Transitional justice has never been served in Taiwan. Yet there is more. Surprisingly, some assets are still in the hands of the KMT. This is where President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九), the current chairman of the KMT, comes in.
Ma professes that in the name of cleaning up the party’s image, he is going to divest the party of these assets and sell them off. All well and good, except for one catch: The KMT will keep the money from the process and use it to pay for the pensions of its members and various debts. This, again, is Ma doublespeak.
Can Taiwanese not see that the remainder of their stolen goods are being fenced? Transitional justice has not been served, yet Ma hopes to finally bury the whole matter of stolen assets through a simple action.
Ma has already earned a variety of nasty nicknames. Now he is working on yet another: The Fence.
When will it end?
Jerome Keating is a writer based in Taipei.
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