While Chen and his wife have both been given life terms, it seems that the punishment does not cover all their crimes. On the one hand, there are other cases pending involving the Chen family; on the other hand, many people feel there is another whole aspect which legal procedures cannot remedy—such as the family’s assets of over NT$4 billion (US$122.4 million), mostly of unclear provenance, not covered in the five cases ruled on Sept. 11. The former first couple used the state apparatus to practice graft, then used it again to cover up their crimes, and used it once more to create political capital with which to resist justice (the referendum on entering the United Nations).
In the three-year-long uproar over Chen’s case, he has fought like a cornered beast, using tricks which have ripped society apart and damaged the nation, trampling on social values and cultural ethics. The judgment handed down Sept. 11 addresses only the illegal acts of the Chen family, but does nothing to atone for the unforgivable sins of their chaotic government and damage to society and culture, which Chen himself has admitted guilt to as “sociocultural crimes.”
Chen Shui-bian calls himself “son of Taiwan,” but he has ruined the struggle for democracy in Taiwan; he once declared he would “defend the ROC,” but he has torn the ROC apart; he continuously manipulated Taiwan independence, but he has destroyed the ethical basis and feasibility of a “Taiwan nation.” Still, however, Chen will not admit his guilt or show remorse for his crimes, one more crime on top of his “sociocultural crimes.”
For a president to be corrupt to such an extent is, as the court’s ruling says, “a betrayal of the people’s trust and hopes.” The ruling catalogues Chen and his wife’s many uses of power and pretext for personal gain. How can Chen be worthy of Taiwan’s democracy, or of the Democratic Progressive Party’s slogan of “clean, diligent government devoted to the native soil”?
Actually, Taiwan’s struggle for democracy all comes together in a president directly elected by the people. This key concept has now been defaced by the Chens. Democracy is precious, but also very fragile. Chen Shui-bian is a costly lesson for Taiwan’s democratic rule of law.
When a president can be found guilty and sentenced, the judicial system can be said to have reached a pinnacle. Jurists must learn from both the positive and negative experiences of this case to further protect the quality and righteousness of the justice system. Now that a president has been sentenced, there is no turning back for the judicial system.
The case has reached the end of one stage in judicial procedure, but the political repercussions are just beginning. These will depend primarily on the attitude of the DPP. After the court’s decision, some radicals within the party proposed taking after Thailand’s Yellow Shirt Movement and paralyzing the airport, train station and presidential mansion. If the DPP should be controlled by this faction, the situation would be very difficult to control, and mainstream society would not be forgiving. The DPP, then, would perish at the hands of Chen Shui-bian.
There is really not much the DPP can say to protect Chen as far as the criminal case is concerned. The problem is really with Chen’s own admission of “sociocultural crimes.” Although the court can do nothing about this, it is a political debt the DPP will have to accept and pay off. If the DPP supports Chen again, it will be making itself an accomplice to his “sociocultural crimes,” which to most people would be more unforgivable than defending the Chen family’s five criminal cases.
Not only can we elect our own president, we can sentence him for his crimes. Taiwan’s democratic rule of law has now surpassed this threshold, and we must have the decisive will to keep on moving forward.
(This editorial first appeared in the “United Daily News” Sept. 12, 2009.)