The ROC Premier, Vincent Siew, has declared that 1998 will be Taiwan's Action Year for Improving Public Safety. As far as bare crime statistics go, he appears to be on to a winner: the number of violent crimes reported in 1997 was 13,869, as opposed to 18,827 the previous year. But 1997 unfortunately saw a number of particularly grisly and, for many people, downright terrifying crimes that wildly distorted the statistics. In consequence, public safety has come under the spotlight as never before, and the police have inevitably borne the brunt of the resulting criticism.
Public alarm centers on a number of problem areas. First, there is a widespread belief that there has been a dramatic rise in the number of violent kidnappings in Taiwan. While it is true that there have been several recent cases where the victim was murdered even before the ransom demand could be transmitted, police figures show that the number of victims actually dropped last year. But one of them involved the child of a popular celebrity, and that changed the whole way people thought about crime. Indeed, the kidnapping, rape, and murder of teenager Pai Hsiao-yen, daughter of the well-known female entertainer Pai Ping-ping, highlighted so many procedural and other deficiencies that it has become a potent symbol of all that is wrong with law and order in Taiwan.
Then there is the ready availability of cheap handguns, mostly smuggled in from mainland China, the Philippines, and Thailand. Pai Hsiao-yen's kidnappers used them. Over the past decade, no fewer than forty-three police officers have been shot dead while on duty, to say nothing of one county chief and seven of his associates. The police seem powerless to stem the rising tide of illegal guns, despite improved coastal patrols and the promise of more and better to come.
Coupled with the perceived increase in violence--a perception that, it must be stressed, runs counter to official figures showing the contrary--is rising anger at a 1992 reduction in the length of time that convicts must serve before becoming eligible for parole. Again, two of Pai's three killers were on parole for crimes of violence, and one of them had originally been sentenced to life imprisonment. As a direct result of the Pai case, late last year the legislature passed a measure obliging convicts to serve at least half the sentence handed down before being paroled, with the proportion rising to two-thirds in the case of the most serious crimes. Murderers must in any event serve not less than fifteen years.
In addition, the police are faced with powerful underworld gangs whose tentacles extend into the island's life at every level. They also have to deal with wayward teenagers, some of whom have left home and dropped out of school and are well on the way to becoming drug addicts or hardened criminals--in many cases, both.
Crime is, of course, becoming increasingly serious throughout the world. What makes the picture different in Taiwan is that the police are hampered by a considerable amount of historical baggage.
In the beginning, there was martial law, and life was relatively straightforward. Taiwan Garrison Command directed virtually all police activity, high and low, and the most senior and experienced police officer might find himself taking orders from an army captain. In those days, when the prime qualifications for a policeman were undivided loyalty, unquestioning obedience, a solid physique, and a powerful fist, many officers joined the force. They are still there.
Some of them have not noticeably changed. Society, however, has. Taiwan is now a pluralistic, democratic place, where human rights are taken very seriously and the good old-fashioned methods that used to work so well in darkened cellars have fallen from favor.
What are the police doing to improve their overall image and shape themselves as a force for the 21st century? Who are they, what do they do, and how well do they do it? Earlier this year, the Free China Review sponsored a seminar at which a legislator, a former Taiwan police chief, a serving detective, and two academics with wide-reaching experience of crime prevention and investigation respectively were able to discuss just some of the problems facing Taiwan's police and suggest ways of dealing with them.
This month's issue also contains stories focusing on two areas: the public image of the police, and juvenile delinquency. It is not possible to do more in the space available. One participant in the seminar summed it up thus: "I could speak for eight hours a day for a week, and it still wouldn't be enough." As a former director-general of Taiwan's National Police Administration, he should know.