Taiwan in Time: Oct. 5 to Oct. 11
In March of 1960, former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) was nearing the end of his second term, the maximum allowed under the Republic of China (ROC) constitution. In order to allow Chiang to run again, the now defunct National Assembly on March 11 amended the Temporary Provisions Effective During the Period of Communist Rebellion (動員戡亂時期臨時條款) with a provision that froze the term limit.
Back then, there were no public elections and National Assembly members were the only voters. Chiang ran unopposed that year and was subsequently elected to fourth and fifth terms before he died in 1975.
Photo: Chang Jui-chen, Taipei Times
About a month before the term limit was frozen, Free China (自由中國) magazine published on Feb. 1 an article “sincerely advising” Chiang not to run for a third term.
The magazine was founded by a group of intellectuals in 1949 in China as a pro-democracy, anti-communist publication under Chiang’s support. After the organizers retreated to Taiwan with the KMT, the magazine gradually turned from bashing communists to criticizing the lack of democracy and freedom in Martial Law era Taiwan, especially with its call for opposition parties in a time of one-party rule.
Free China’s co-founder and publisher Lei Chen (雷震) was a former high-ranking KMT official. He was expelled from the party in 1954 for running a reader-contributed editorial that criticized political interference in the education system.
Photo courtesy of Academia Historica
On March 1, Lei penned an editorial advising the National Assembly not to amend the constitution, but they did so anyway.
That May, Free China published a commentary stressing the need for a “strong opposition party.” A few weeks later, Lei and other non-KMT reformers — notable for featuring an alliance between mainlanders and ethnic Taiwanese — met to form a new party: the China Democracy Party (中國民主黨).
On Sept. 1, Free China published an article comparing the formation of opposition parties to the Yangtze River flowing east — something that cannot be stopped. That seemed to be the last straw for the KMT, as on Sept. 4, Lei and three others were arrested and charged with sedition — though the government claimed that the arrests weren’t related to opposition activities, instead accusing him of spreading communist propaganda and harboring communists. When a KMT politician spoke out against the verdict, his party membership was suspended for one year.
On Oct. 8, Chiang issued an order that Lei’s sentence should not be less than 10 years, and that no appeal should be allowed. Several hours later, Lei was sentenced to exactly 10 years in prison by a military court. Free China was shut down, and Lei’s collaborators attempted to push forward with the new party to no avail. Taiwan wouldn’t see the successful establishment of an opposition party until the 1980s.
Upon his release in 1970, Lei immediately resumed his previous mission, presenting 10 political and military reforms to the presidential office and Executive Yuan, including renaming the country the Democratic Republic of Chinese Taiwan (中華台灣民主國). He reportedly received no response. He died in 1979.
DOUBLE TEN?
Obviously, this week in history cannot be mentioned without Double Ten National Day, which, like last week’s Teachers’ Day and August’s Father’s Day, is another carryover from when the KMT ruled China and doesn’t actually pertain to Taiwan itself.
On Oct. 10, 1911, Chinese rebels started the Wuchang Uprising, which marked the beginning of the Xinhai Revolution that eventually toppled the Qing Dynasty, ending more than 2,000 years of imperial rule in China.
Even though the Republic of China was officially established on Jan. 1, 1912, later that year, the provisional government designated the anniversary of the uprising as its National Day.
Taiwan celebrated its first Double Ten in 1945 after China, then ruled by the KMT, took over following Japanese surrender. As a result of the KMT losing control of China in 1949, Double Ten became only celebrated as National Day in Taiwan.
Taiwan in Time, a column about Taiwan’s history that is published every Sunday, spotlights important or interesting events around the nation that have anniversaries this week.
Recently the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and its Mini-Me partner in the legislature, the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), have been arguing that construction of chip fabs in the US by Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC, 台積電) is little more than stripping Taiwan of its assets. For example, KMT Deputy Secretary-General Lin Pei-hsiang (林沛祥) in January said that “This is not ‘reciprocal cooperation’ ... but a substantial hollowing out of our country.” Similarly, former TPP Chair Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) contended it constitutes “selling Taiwan out to the United States.” The two pro-China parties are proposing a bill that would limit semiconductor
Institutions signalling a fresh beginning and new spirit often adopt new slogans, symbols and marketing materials, and the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is no exception. Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), soon after taking office as KMT chair, released a new slogan that plays on the party’s acronym: “Kind Mindfulness Team.” The party recently released a graphic prominently featuring the red, white and blue of the flag with a Chinese slogan “establishing peace, blessings and fortune marching forth” (締造和平,幸福前行). One part of the graphic also features two hands in blue and white grasping olive branches in a stylized shape of Taiwan. Bonus points for
March 9 to March 15 “This land produced no horses,” Qing Dynasty envoy Yu Yung-ho (郁永河) observed when he visited Taiwan in 1697. He didn’t mean that there were no horses at all; it was just difficult to transport them across the sea and raise them in the hot and humid climate. “Although 10,000 soldiers were stationed here, the camps had fewer than 1,000 horses,” Yu added. Starting from the Dutch in the 1600s, each foreign regime brought horses to Taiwan. But they remained rare animals, typically only owned by the government or
“M yeolgong jajangmyeon (anti-communism zhajiangmian, 滅共炸醬麵), let’s all shout together — myeolgong!” a chef at a Chinese restaurant in Dongtan, located about 35km south of Seoul, South Korea, calls out before serving a bowl of Korean-style zhajiangmian —black bean noodles. Diners repeat the phrase before tucking in. This political-themed restaurant, named Myeolgong Banjeom (滅共飯館, “anti-communism restaurant”), is operated by a single person and does not take reservations; therefore long queues form regularly outside, and most customers appear sympathetic to its political theme. Photos of conservative public figures hang on the walls, alongside political slogans and poems written in Chinese characters; South