Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death.
Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is.
Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures, and followed less enlightened years of his rule.
Chiang Ching-kuo was in charge during the White Terror era, Martial Law era, the Kaohsiung Incident trials, the murders of former Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) chairman Lin I-hsiung’s (林義雄) family members and the death of democracy advocate Chen Wen-chen (陳文成).
It was not until the late 1980s that he started promoting localization and democratization. Before that, he had continued the iron-fisted rule of his father.
At the same time, he maintained a staunch opposition to Chinese communists, declared that the Chiang family would renounce hereditary succession, worked to “Taiwanize” the government by launching democratic reforms, brought the dangwai (黨外, “outside the party”) movement in from the cold and allowed the founding of the DPP in 1986.
Taiwan would not be the vibrant democracy it is today had it not been for Chiang Ching-kuo’s decisions, with all the caveats that the political realities of his day involve.
His legacy is a matter of perspective: of one who was inside the KMT and therefore in a position to benefit from his grip on power, or of one who was outside, like most ordinary Taiwanese, who were subject to forced compliance with the regime’s control. It also depends on whether one is looking at his legacy with the benefit of hindsight, following the relaxation of his grip on power and the holding of direct presidential elections; whether one lived through the dark times of the White Terror, party-state rule and political killings; and one’s distrust of and opposition to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), then and now.
A perfect illustration of this shifting perspective on his legacy occurred about three years ago, on Jan. 22, 2022, when then-president Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) spoke at the opening of the Ching-kuo Chi-hai Cultural Park and the Chiang Ching-kuo Presidential Library in Taipei.
In attendance were representatives of the KMT old guard, including former vice president Lien Chan (連戰), former president Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九), former KMT vice chairman Hau Lung-bin (郝龍斌) and KMT Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫).
Tsai’s very presence there was controversial, as it was regarded by the New Power Party and the Transitional Justice Commission as somehow glorifying authoritarianism, delegitimizing her government’s promotion of transitional justice and glossing over the pain of Taiwanese suppressed by the Chiang regime.
In her comments, Tsai did not argue for forgetting the excesses of Chiang Ching-kuo’s rule, concentrating instead on his unremitting and staunch anti-communist stance. One can only imagine how uncomfortable Chan, Ma, Hau and Chu felt.
Broadcasting Corp of China chairman Jaw Shaw-kong (趙少康) said at the time that Tsai’s attendance was a good sign of the possibility of national unity, while Chu was less welcoming of her and the focus of her remarks.
His truculence was sourced from the realization of how far the KMT has come from Chiang’s uncompromisingly anti-CCP stance and how Tsai acknowledged the merit therein.
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