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Takin' It Off the Streets-- Youth Activism in a New Age
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2010-1-006 Lin Hsin-ching/photos by Jimmy Lin/tr. by David Smith Printing date:2009/12/31
But how closely does the stereotype actually match up with reality? Are
today's youth truly so selfish, apathetic, and indifferent to public affairs? No,
not really. Reflecting the diversity of the times, they simply focus these days on
a broader range of concerns, and this in turn has diffused their strength. And
as issues have grown more complex, youth activism has evolved toward a
finer-grained division of labor based on specialized skills. There are still many
young people out there, beyond the field of view of the average observer,
working hard for the public good.
The group was composed of college and university students from throughout
the country, and they were quite the mild-mannered bunch. They shouted
none of the passionate chants one normally witnesses in a street protest, and
there was no tense standoff with the police. Instead, they simply sat silently
in an area where the law does not allow public gatherings, and raised placards
calling for "human rights" and "freedom." Others leveled criticisms against
"police brutality" and the use of "martial law tactics" when Chen Yunlin, the
head of mainland China's Association for Relations Across the Taiwan Straits,
came to Taiwan for a visit on November 3.
On the second day of the protest, the peaceful students ended up getting
hauled away by the police and were forced to regroup at Liberty Square, where
they continued their protest for two months.
The movement arose on the spur of the moment when students were
angered at police tactics used during the mainland official's visit. The
organizers came to dub themselves the Wild Strawberries, a name that was
both a nod to the Wild Lily movement of 18 years before, and a
self-deprecating reference to the "greenhouse strawberries" moniker with
which the youth of today have been disapprovingly labeled (the idea being
that, like greenhouse strawberries, they lack toughness).
The students later made three key demands: "President Ma Ying-jeou and
Premier Liu Chao-shiuan must apologize to all citizens," "National Security
Bureau Director-General Tsai Chao-ming and National Police Administration
Director-General Wang Cho-chiun must step down immediately," and "the
Legislative Yuan must immediately amend the repressive Assembly and
Parade Act." The students organized via the Internet to stage six large sit-ins
simultaneously in Taipei, Hsinchu, Taichung, Tainan, and Chiayi, and the total
number of participants exceeded 2,000 at the height of the movement, making
it the largest student movement since the Wild Lily student movement of March
1990.
Over the last 18 years, however, political and economic conditions in Taiwan
have undergone huge changes. The oppressive authoritarian order dissolved
into disorder, then society returned once again to stability. Ruling power has
now switched hands twice. There is no way the Wild Strawberries' demand for
amendment of the Assembly and Parade Act could possibly have the same
explosive impact of the Wild Lily movement's calls for "an end to dictatorial
abuse of power by the organs of state." And beyond that, the students in the
Wild Strawberries movement lacked activist credentials. Both the government
and the news media pooh-poohed the movement even though it had put its
finger on some very worthwhile causes, and the movement gradually petered
out as a result. The students withdrew from Liberty Square on January 5,
2009.
But even though the Wild Strawberries participants did not achieve what they
had set out to do, neither did they vanish without leaving a trace, as had been
predicted by some talking heads who criticized the movement as being "too
closely identified with the opposition camp," "under the influence of a few
professors who had been active in the Wild Lily movement," and
"unrepresentative of the times." On the contrary, a year later we find that
many of them continue working away within their fields of specialty in support
of the human rights, freedom of expression, and justice that they had
protested for.
"Little P," a member of the Anchor Team and recent graduate in law from
National Chung Cheng University, frankly admits that she herself used to be
the stereotypical university student with no interest in public affairs, but taking
part in the Wild Strawberries movement broadened her once-narrow world
view.
These academics point out: "The only way to understand the power and the
limitations of a social movement is to take part in one. It's an education in
democracy that you can't pick up in a hundred classroom lectures."
The Wild Strawberries may not have the personal charisma of the leaders of
previous student movements, or the same ability to mobilize crowds, and they
certainly haven't carried on with the tradition of hurling eggs, unfurling white
protest banners, and engaging in bloody street conflict. Instead, they've
gone in for a specialized division of labor and a low-profile approach, taking
one small step at a time in a determined push for progress in areas of concern.
They receive less media exposure, and have to score a big success somewhere
before people will suddenly take notice and realize that there are still many
idealistic young people working away in obscurity.
netizens made use of Plurk, Twitter, Google Maps, and other online resources
to establish websites such as the "Morakot Disaster Map" and the "Disaster
Information Center." The volunteers worked with astounding efficiency and
drove home to a larger audience just how powerful a tool the Internet can be in
mobilizing people. (See "Attack of the Nerds! Cyber-Activism Comes of Age,"
p. 20.)
Deep roots
A lot of young participants have also been involved in debates over many
other public policy issues, including opposition to legalized gambling as well as
Phase IV construction of the Central Taiwan Science Park and the Eighth
Naphtha Cracker plant, the latter two of which are currently very hot topics.
There is also the Youth Alliance for Lo Sheng, which has been fighting for
over five years to prevent demolition of the Lo Sheng Sanatorium, a leprosy
institution built in 1930. The issue has been on the back burner for the past
couple of years, but dozens of students continue devoting themselves to the
cause today. On weekends and holidays, they gather at Lo Sheng
Sanatorium no matter what the weather to chat with the old folks there, and
also hold regularly scheduled lectures and tours of the facility to break down
the prejudices of local neighbors against the Lo Sheng residents and rally
people to their cause. Over the years, the sanatorium has grown into a unique
community.
And in the 1970s a wave of patriotic fervor was triggered by the movement
to protect the Diaoyutai Islands, which coincided with an outpouring of social
issues-oriented folk music. Students were in the vanguard on both of these
phenomena. Then in the 1980s, as a result of Taiwan's single-minded pursuit
of economic growth over many years, problems such as pollution and
exploitation of labor came to the fore, fueling an explosion of social activism.
Key roles were played by scholars with the boldness to borrow from Western
thought, local residents with a high level of self-awareness, and large numbers
of students.
Says Wu: "In my case, for example, as a student in 1986 at National Taiwan
University I went together with others from the UniNews Club down to
Changhua County to join in with local residents in their protests against plans
by DuPont to build a chemicals plant down there.
He also notes that in student movements throughout history, both East and
West, those with a connection to the issues of "nationalism," "democracy and
freedom," and "class struggle" have always been the ones that most strongly
stirred students' sense of justice and empathy. Students in Taiwan certainly
have not sat on the sidelines of any of the political or social movements that
have swept the island over the years.
Prior to the early 1990s, however, the ultimate enemy was always the
They have also discovered that despite the gradual lifting of the heavy-
handed state oppression of the past, the civil society that earlier activists had
looked forward to has remained elusive, replaced by an equally enormous
capital structure that is even more cunning than what preceded it. This new
"enemy" is not so clear-cut and easily understood as the authoritarian
oppression of yesteryear. Today's adversary is diffuse, with conflicting interest
relationships. Activists must now put a lot more thought into their enterprise in
order to thoroughly understand the complex threads of the issues at hand. This
homework must be done if they are to propose concrete, forceful solutions.
Switch to "empowerment"
Since the 1990s, with the big political and economic changes that Taiwan has
gone through, the leaders of today's student movements have come up with a
style of their own.
Chen Hsin-hsing, a Shih Hsin University assistant professor who was one of
the five "commanders in the square" during the Wild Lily movement, attributes
these changes mainly to the fact that, over the past 20 years, information
technology has made very rapid progress, the public has become much
savvier, and higher education has become accessible to all.
When Chen was in the student movement, for example, only about 30% of
all high school graduates went on to university, and university students were
seen as the future heavyweights of society. Those returning with a degree from
abroad, in particular, wore halos as "the cream of the cream."
Now that nearly 100% of those seeking to enter university are able to do so,
however, students can no longer hold themselves out as elites. Even when
they do participate on the front lines, they see themselves as simply a part of
the people, not the leaders or saviors.
Youth Labor Union 95, for example, enjoys an excellent reputation in the
labor movement. Established three years ago, it has already won numerous
victories in fighting for the rights of some 100 young part-time workers and
temps. One reason for their success is that the activists or their friends all
share the experience of being exploited and are thus able to identify with the
travails of those they're working to help. They regard themselves as partners
of the workers as they help the latter to understand their rights and, when
necessary, provide them with legal assistance, but they don't make decisions
on behalf of the people coming to them for help, nor do they pressure the
latter to join in their activities. (See "Youth Labor Union 95: A Voice for Young
Disadvantaged Workers," p. 28.)
Chen opines that this transition from "leading" to "serving," and from
"enlightening" to "empowering" was the only way for the activists to strike a
responsive chord, and has been key to their success.
Leaderless, disorganized
The flip side to the distaste of today's youth for exercising leadership over
others, however, is disorganization and a lack of leadership. This is another
prominent feature of today's youth activism.
In Li's view, the dangwai activism of the 1970s, the golden decade of social
activism in the 1980s, and the Wild Lily movement of the early 1990s shared
the commonality that the leaders from childhood had all lived under
authoritarianism. The father was all-powerful in their homes. Teachers reigned
supreme at school. And the larger society was tightly controlled by the heavy-
handed machinery of state. While fighting against oppression, they themselves
were nevertheless influenced by the circumstances of their upbringing, so the
social movements they joined had a clear-cut hierarchy, and the views of the
leaders carried a certain weight of authority. When divisions of opinion arose, it
was often impossible to work them out, and factionalism was common.
Beginning with those born in the latter half of the 1970s, however, things
changed. Most in this generation grew up in nuclear families where the views of
children were respected. Society was more liberal, but the early stages of
democratization featured vicious struggle between the blue and green camps.
Political leaders long treated as celebrities entered into the government, and
one after another became tainted with corruption. Many ended up in prison for
it.
News of scandal has affected how today's youth go about their activism.
They are happy to debate ideas, and respect others' opinions, but see little
need for hierarchy, and no one likes to step forward to take overall
responsibility for success or failure.
The clearest example is probably the Youth Alliance for Lo Sheng, which has
fought for five years to preserve the Lo Sheng Sanatorium. At first the
alliance was composed primarily of medical students, who approached the
issue as a chapter in the history of public health. Later the movement attracted
more and more students from the humanities, and the group's interests
broadened to include a focus on historical preservation, opposition to forced
relocation, and medical human rights.
Wang feels that the advantage of the lack of structure is flexibility. Even if
one person drops out, the organization can keep operating, and each person
has to know how to contact and mobilize all the others, write up press
releases, and speak to reporters, so there aren't many marginalized members
who don't know how to carry off the group's activities.
The drawback is that subtle power relationships still exist beneath the
seemingly egalitarian surface. People who are more popular or joined the group
earliest, for example, may have more influence over the direction of the
movement, yet these de facto power holders are unaccountable for their policy
decisions because they don't have any official title. This fuzziness of authority
and responsibility has sometimes led to internal conflict.
set goals and action plans. They often just grope their way one step at a time,
responding passively to issues as they impinge.
Chen Hsin-hsing says that campus publications and dissident groups in the
past were very popular, and young people with a mind to be a part of public
discourse were all adept at writing essays, shouting slogans, and leading
movements. They liked to go to campus events to chat and debate, and nearly
every one of them could reel off a cogent set of arguments on leftist theory or
democratic thought.
During the Wild Strawberries movement, for example, the students were
sharply divided on the question of when to arrive at a protest and when to
leave. In the Wild Lily movement, by way of contrast, before anyone even
showed up for a sit-in, the movement's leaders were already thinking about
when they would be finishing up.
And some members of the Youth Alliance for Lo Sheng in recent years have
shifted their focus to other concerns, including the Wild Strawberries, gay
rights, cultural issues, and opposition to forced relocation. "But these young
people have seldom been able to say how the new concerns are related to the
concerns of their existing movement," says Chen. "The only way they can
mobilize people is through personal connections, where an upperclassman gets
an underclassman, friends contact friends, and the like. This is not good for the
larger movement."
Making a career of it
The changing times are the main reason for the lack of structure and poor
ability to expound on theory among current youth activists. And another
feature of recent activism is that, now that the days of epic struggle over
issues of monumental significance have passed into history, the people of the
"me generation" have begun paying attention to working their ideals into their
life and career planning. They no longer feel that their activism should have to
entail painful sacrifice. Gavin Lee, the force behind the Su-Hua Cake Shop, is a
notable example of someone who has been able to keep an eye on his career
while working on public issues.
In addition, Lee has also been invited to take part in numerous international
conferences. In 2008, for example, he was invited to represent Taiwan's
environmental NGOs at the 14th United Nations Framework Convention on
Climate Change Conference of the Parties, and in 2006 served on the
environmental sustainability working group at the Youth Employment Summit
in Kenya. Although still doing his military service with the Coast Guard
Administration, Lee has already been tapped by the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology Media Lab as a member of its Smart Cities group, where he will
work together with leading researchers from around the world to develop an
electric bicycle for in-town transportation.
Lee isn't terribly good at foreign languages, and has never ranked very high
in terms of scholastic achievement, so why have so many international bodies
and research organizations been so impressed? It has been the outstanding
successes that he has scored as an environmental activist.
In addition to his experience with the Su-Hua Cake Shop, Lee has also joined
forces with National Taiwan University's Conserve Nature Club to prevent the
building of a highway in an important watershed in Wulai, rural Taipei County.
He also gathered a team of graduate students from National Taiwan University,
National Chengchi University, and National Chiao Tung University to study a
three-story-tall stack of 349 environmental impact assessment specifications
put out by the Environmental Protection Administration since 1998 and
published a research report entitled Today's Environmental Impact Assessment
System Has Become a Rubber Stamp for Development Projects. The report hit
like a bombshell at the Environmental Protection Administration, and has had
far-reaching impact.
Away from the limelight, many young people continue to carry the activist
torch on social issues. Their motivations, attitudes, organizational preferences,
operating styles, and concerns may differ from those of earlier generations, but
today's youth are still full of passion and a sense of justice, and are willing to
put personal interests aside and devote themselves to their chosen causes.