By Khairie Hisyam
That man came with sweet promises, swaying voters with pledges of change. But the reformer’s tune soon shifted as the days, then the years dragged on, culminating in a scandal that rocked the country.
He came to power as two factions bickered in the political party that had ruled for over half a century, the culmination of a political career spanning decades.
Some had high expectations of him. Among others, they looked to him to tackle the entrenched corruption and increasingly money-driven political system, against which even members of the long-ruling political party have left in disgust before.
Others eyed reform in the public sector, which was increasingly dysfunctional at undertaking basic public works and stubbornly shielding various sectors from competition despite a rosy economic picture to outside observers, charting impressive growth year after year.
For these issues and more, he promised positive changes. His lips repeated again and again how he intends to be a leader for all, not just those who voted him.
Indeed, he was styled the reformer, a man with no time to dawdle from the day he stepped into office. His early days were marked by messages of reconciliation, of coming together despite differences.
But his power was tenuous. The other side held much sway, his only hope to effective ruling firmly was in forming a strong coalition. There were hurdles aplenty – his reforms did not quite happen the way he promised. Hopes, pushed high, fell.
Of course, he subsequently did many things. For one, he brought some changes to the education system. Ties with the United States grew closer, a fruit of notable visits across the pond, even a high-profile encounter with a top leader once. Some roads were renamed during his long political career.
Yet some thought he fumbled. Under his watch, a crisis erupted beyond the shores and the waves reached home, causing the stock market to crash. The economy suffered as unemployment rose. The man on the street suffered, with many growing increasingy disgruntled and disillusioned with him and his promises.
His popularity suffered. His re-election margin was narrow, a blow, followed by long protests by those who wish him out.
Soon after the tune shifted. Between the lines the message was clear: conciliation was off the menu. Antagonism seeped from the cracking facade. Even public images of great leaders before him went missing from sight.
Observers were divided. Was this man ideologically committed to liberating the state or is he merely pandering to his core supporters?
Along the way a series of scandals erupted. Critics took aim at his wife, then the husband of his daughter, on one wrongdoing after another. The assault was relentless, even putting his flight detours in the crosshairs. And the cases against him and his family were seen as a test of the government’s resolve to combat corruption in the system.
Every now and then, as fresh jibes emerged, observers wonder: was this the end? Yet he delivered a negative, again and again, as he resisted and dug in.
He himself was later accused of dodgy transactions, and investigators pursued the allegations. Documents were allegedly faked. Questions came hard on the so-called slush fund at his disposal, allegations which he parried and riposted.
Politically the man stood firm, refusing to step down from the top post. Some supported him. And yet some party leaders demanded he explain the accusations, wary of the man who had slowly grown into a liability for his party.
And to all of them he gave assurances that he did not pocket a single cent. His wife was perhaps the state’s only First Lady in history to have been accused of so much malfeasance. Protected by virtue of his public office, prosecutors were unable to come after him despite the evidence in their hands.
Yet he could not remain in office forever. His time eventually came to an end. And they were waiting for that moment, to swoop in and bring him to task.
Thus Chen Shui-bian left Taiwan’s Presidential Office Building on May 20, 2008, leaving state-granted immunity from prosecution behind. Six months, five subpoenas later, he walked out the Supreme Courts prosecutor’s office in handcuffs, yelling political persecution to assembled journalists.
Chen eventually went to jail, but at least he went down in history as the man who broke the uninterrupted 55-year rule of the Kuomintang of China, which continued again after he left.
GRRRRR!!!




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