Give Taiwan credit for democracy

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Dissident, writer, activist Bo Yang dies
　

THE UGLY TRUTH: Bo Yang was perhaps most famous for writing ‘The Ugly Chinaman,’ but his life and writing captured much of the essence of Taiwan in the 20th century
　

By Ko Shu-ling
STAFF REPORTER, WITH AGENCIES
Wednesday, Apr 30, 2008, Page 1
　
Bo Yang talks to the media after being presented with an honorary doctorate by National University of Tainan on Dec. 12, 2006. The acclaimed human rights activist died yesterday morning, aged 88.


PHOTO: CNA


Writer, human rights activist and former political prisoner Bo Yang (柏楊), who infuriated both the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Chinese Communist Party with his tart critiques of Chinese culture, abusive leaders and anti-democratic behavior, died early yesterday morning of complications from pneumonia. He was 88.

Bo had been receiving treatment for pneumonia at the Cardinal Tien Hospital in Sindian (新店), Taipei County, since February.

Born in 1920 in Henan Province, China, Bo authored more than 200 works. One of the most prominent was The Ugly Chinaman (醜陋的中國人), in which he pilloried Chinese culture as dirty, noisy, divisive, obsequious and vainglorious.

The book came as a shock when it was first published in Taiwan in 1984. Although it was banned in China until 2000, underground copies were widely available.

Last August, Bo began planning a comic-strip version of the book, saying that it could reach out to young people today who tend not to read.

The New York Times once called Bo “China’s Voltaire.”

Bo, whose real name was Kuo Yi-tung (郭衣洞), followed the KMT government to Taiwan after the KMT lost the Chinese civil war.

He found work as a columnist for the Independence Evening Post, a small liberal newspaper, but quickly ran foul of the KMT dictatorship after he blasted Chiang Kai-shek’s (蔣介石) government over corruption and abuse of power. One of his more controversial pieces of writing at the time was Foreign Land (異域), a study of the KMT soldiers stranded in what would become the Golden Triangle after they were unable to join their compatriots in Taiwan. His reporting on their destitution embarrassed senior military officials who escaped from the area.

He was then jailed in 1968 following a translation of the American comic strip Popeye, which was interpreted as criticizing Chiang’s refusal to conduct free presidential elections.

He served nine years in prison, mostly on Green Island (綠島), after being convicted of acting as a communist spy — a government catchall for dealing with troublemakers during the Martial Law era.

Aside from managing a prolific writing career, which included historical studies, short fiction, journalism and translations of classical Chinese works, Bo was keen to advocate human rights and served as Amnesty International’s Taiwan office director from 1994 to 1996.

Bo’s health began to deteriorate in September 2006 and he had been in and out of hospital several times since then, eventually forcing him to stop writing.

Despite his illness, Bo followed politics closely.

He said he was disappointed at the record of the Democratic Progressive Party administration, but also worried about the KMT’s return to power.

President Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) yesterday expressed his “deepest regret” over Bo’s death.

Chen said he would confer a posthumous medal on Bo and asked government agencies to assist Bo’s family with funeral arrangements.

The Presidential Office statement described Bo as a modern thinker who had been eminently capable of representing Taiwan. The president said Bo exerted a great influence on contemporary Taiwanese literature and was held in high esteem in literary circles, both domestic and international.

The statement added that Chen was grateful for the advice Bo gave him during his stint as senior presidential adviser.

The president visited Bo in hospital on Saturday. Bo’s wife, the poet Chang Hsiang-hua (張香華), told Chen at that time that he was the only president to express respect toward him.

President-elect Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) also visited Bo in hospital on April 16.

Bo is survived by his wife and two sons and three daughters from previous marriages.

　

　

　

　

Give Taiwan credit for democracy
　

By Charles tannock
Wednesday, Apr 30, 2008, Page 8

While protests over China’s crackdown in Tibet and the debate about Kosovo’s unilateral declaration of independence continue to fester, the injustice of Taiwan’s ongoing international isolation has barely stirred a flicker of interest despite Taiwan’s recent presidential election and referendums on UN membership. This neglect is not only shortsighted, but may also prove dangerous.

This seeming double standard can be explained partly by a sense of guilt: The West has, for the most part, embraced Kosovo’s independence in an effort to assuage its own culpability for not preventing late Serbian president Slobodan Milosevic’s campaign of ethnic cleansing there. Similarly, much of the world is protesting on behalf of Tibet because countless millions have witnessed China’s brutal suppression of Tibetan culture.

Taiwan, on the other hand, does not grab our attention, because it is stable and flourishing economically. But it has never been part of the People’s Republic of China. Taiwan is an unrecognized independent state with a vigorous democracy and high standards of human rights. Because Taiwan has not allowed itself to become a victim, the world simply does not feel guilty about it, and so ignores it.

But perhaps we should feel some guilt. Taiwan deserves great credit for standing on its own two feet, despite the international isolation imposed. China blocks it from participating fully in the international arena, whether through the WTO, the Olympics, or UN agencies, including the WHO. To its shame, China allows its political goal of excluding Taiwan from membership in all international organizations to trump even urgent public health concerns.

The small number of countries that recognize Taiwan diplomatically has dwindled owing to a mixture of Chinese pressure and blandishments. On top of all this, Taiwan’s nearly 23 million people go about their daily business knowing that about 1,400 Chinese missiles are ready to be launched at them at a moment’s notice.

It is not for me to say that Taiwan should be recognized as an independent country. To all intents and purposes, Taiwan is already independent, albeit without formal recognition. Equally, there are plenty of Taiwanese who would like the island eventually to reunify with China, particularly if China democratizes and ceases to be a one-party communist dictatorship. However, we cannot deny that Taiwanese are unjustly being refused their place in the wider world.

The global community should do more to usher Taiwan into the international mainstream. Western powers have helped champion human rights and self-determination within the bounds of international law. The campaigns that the West waged throughout the 1980s in solidarity with democratic forces in Soviet-dominated Eastern Europe helped bring about the end of communist domination. A similar commitment to the democratic rights of Taiwanese could have salutary effects in China. Moreover, Taiwan is a natural ally of any party that espouses the values of pluralist politics, free markets and human rights.

It seems particularly shortsighted, indeed hypocritical, for the US and Britain to seek to spread democracy and human rights throughout the world while failing to recognize and reward the Taiwanese, a people who have embraced these concepts wholeheartedly.

Unquestioning recognition of the “one China” policy sends the message that we appreciate more a country that is a big, communist dictatorship rather than a small, multiparty democracy. For the record, there are clear precedents for divided countries to enter the UN as separate states and then eventually to reunify: West and East Germany, North and South Yemen, and perhaps one day, the two Koreas.

Ultimately, it is for Taiwan and China to regulate and resolve their relations. There are already some positive signs of a bilateral thaw as a new administration prepares to take office in Taiwan, with high-level talks taking place between Chinese President Hu Jintao (胡錦濤) and vice president-elect Vincent Siew (蕭萬長). The democratic world has an obligation to support this process — not only because Taiwan deserves its support, but also because engaging more with Taiwan could potentially be a powerful instrument of leverage for broader change in China.



Charles Tannock is the British Conservative Party’s foreign affairs spokesman and the European Parliament’s rapporteur on the eastern dimension of the European Neighborhood Policy.
　

　

　

Middle road a betrayal of the DPP’s principles
　

By Cao Changqing 曹長青
Wednesday, Apr 30, 2008, Page 8

Following the Democratic Progressive Party’s (DPP) loss in the presidential election, a strong voice has emerged attributing the loss to the “deep green” faction hijacking the DPP and urging the party to take the “middle road.”

What is this middle road? The political reality is the “pan-blue camp” represents China, whereas the “pan-green camp” represents Taiwan. In choosing between these two definitions of national identity, asking the DPP to take the middle road is tantamount to asking it to rally around the Chinese nationalism represented by the pan-blue camp.

This suggestion not only betrays the founding principles and ideals of the DPP, but it has also proven to be unsuccessful in practice. During the party primary and presidential election, DPP presidential candidate Frank Hsieh (謝長廷) adopted an attitude of compromise and willingness to take the middle road — including emphasizing reconciliation and mutual survival and even defending a “constitutional one China.” The result was that the party lost by 2 million votes. Losing is not frightening in itself. What is frightening is when the loser does not even understand how the defeat came about.

Proponents of the middle road say that the relationship between Taiwan and China — and the DPP and the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) — cannot be interpreted as antagonistic. But the fact is China has 1,400 missiles aimed at Taiwan. China has shown its determination to subsume Taiwan through its “Anti-Secession” Law and constantly seeks to diplomatically isolate Taiwan. If this is not the behavior of an enemy, how many more missiles and how much more oppression does Taiwan need to deal with?

The KMT is undeniably an enemy party of the DPP. Moreover, it is not a truly democratic party. If the KMT believes in democracy, it must return the public property it embezzled during the party-state era. Its continued possession of state property is the greatest testament to corruption in Taiwan. Furthermore, the party should actively remove the remnants of dictator Chiang Kai-shek’s (蔣介石) rule and deal with the family’s history of authoritarian rule to realize transitional justice. In addition, it must truly recognize Taiwan and remove the character “Chinese” from its title (中國國民黨) to become the Taiwanese Nationalist Party.

However, not only has the KMT refused to comply with these criteria, president-elect Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) even visited the Chiangs’ grave to pay his respects. Vice president-elect Vincent Siew (蕭萬長) and former KMT chairman Lien Chan (連戰) have also visited China to scratch the back of Chinese President Hu Jintao (胡錦濤). In doing so, the KMT has sold out Taiwan’s dignity and interests, while introducing the “one China” ideology into Taiwan.

The KMT also publicly considers the DPP its “main opponent” and intends to unite with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) to curb Taiwanese independence. This has not only prevented Taiwan from achieving normal statehood, but also positions the DPP as a more antagonistic opponent than the CCP.

To those wishful thinkers within the DPP who advocate compromise and taking the middle road, not only has the KMT never reciprocated this interest, elections have also proven time and again that this route is not viable.

Any democratic party lacking in core values will eventually be eliminated by voters. If the DPP does not elect a non-factional leader who can uphold the party’s ideals, the party’s future will be bleak. As former secretary-general of the Presidential Office Chen Shih-meng (陳師孟) recently said: If the DPP were to emphasize the middle road at this point, then one should consider abandoning the DPP.

Cao Changqing is a Chinese writer based in the US.

　

　

New art wriggles into the Louvre
　

Some may find Jan Fabre’s work interesting — but placed among the Old Masters, it just looks silly

By Lynn Barber
THE GUARDIAN, LONDON
Wednesday, Apr 30, 2008, Page 15

Apparently, the Louvre has a new policy of showing bits of contemporary art but, until now, they have been small, mixed shows taking not much space. Now, for its first solo show by a living artist, it has chosen a Belgian, Jan Fabre, and given him the whole of the Northern School wing — 40 rooms containing top-notch van Eycks, Bruegels, Rembrandts, Rubenses, Vermeers — to play with. He was allowed to move pictures and rearrange rooms to place his work among the Old Masters — i.e. he was given just about the most flattering commission any artist could receive and the big question is: why Jan Fabre?

The catalogue informs us that he was born in 1958 in Antwerp, where he has lived ever since, and that he was one of the pioneers of the Flemish New Wave of the 1980s, which I admit passed me by. He first came to public attention with his “Bic Art” drawings in blue ballpoint. He has his own theater troupe in Antwerp and describes himself as “dessinateur, plasticien, performeur, auteur, homme de theatre, choregraphe, editeur” which I think translates as jack of all trades.





He also claims to be a descendant of the famous entomologist Jean-Henri Fabre (1823-1915), which he likes to advertise by including insects and beetles in his work. Several of his large objects — I hesitate to call them sculptures — are completely covered with iridescent, blue-green scarabs — an eye-catching conceit the first time you see it and very, very boring thereafter.

Beetles are just one medium he favors — he also works in Biro, bone, gold sequins, drawing pins, skulls, vertebrae, synthetic hair, armor, feathers, stuffed birds and animals. He claims the bone is human bone, but this is probably one of his “jokes.” A typical work is Nature morte avec artiste, a full-size coffin covered with blue-green beetles with a peacock’s head, tail and wings sticking out, which he describes as “a reflection on death, night, absence and the materiality of the body.” The largest and mercifully last work takes up the entire floor of the vast Rubens Medici gallery and consists of 470 granite tombstones lying higgledy-piggledy on plastic grass surmounted by a giant worm with a human face vaguely resembling Fabre’s. The title is Self-Portrait as the Biggest Worm in the World or, more excitingly in Flemish, Zelfportret als grootste worm van de Wereld. But couldn’t he have at least made a decent worm? I would have thought any first-year art student would leap at the chance of making a giant worm for the Louvre, but Fabre gives us the sort of standard-issue, beige draught-excluder you could find at any craft fair.





In the evening, he gives a performance in which he supposedly demonstrates his skill as a “master of disguise,” i.e. he dons a cloth cap or a stuck-on beard and wig. This is held in the galerie Daru, which has some fabulous Etruscan sarcophagi and the Winged Victory of Samothrace. When the audience enters, Fabre is hiding behind one of the sarcophagi shouting: “Art kept me out of jail!” Then he runs around for a bit shouting: “Lord protect me from my friends — my enemies I will take care of them!” Finally, he runs up the stairs to the Winged Victory of Samothrace shouting: “Art kept me out of jail” and disappears. I hope I haven’t spoiled the plot.

Seriously, what is the Louvre thinking of? The commissioner in charge, Marie-Laure Bernadac, explained that they want to use contemporary art to attract younger people, and also to liven up some of the less-visited galleries. In this I suppose they might be successful — I’ve been to the Louvre dozens of times but never set foot in the galerie Daru before. But the effect of Fabre’s gimcrack installations in the Dutch and Flemish Old Master rooms is less benign. The whole place begins to feel like some dusty theatrical props storeroom and the great paintings on the walls are reduced to just another form of prop. It is sad. And what is really sad is that in a few years time, the Louvre will probably say: “Oh, we tried having contemporary art and it didn’t work.” Whereas what they should really say is: “Why on earth did we choose Jan Fabre?”

　

　

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