Asia silent on Nobel winner

Much of Asia Silent on Nobel Peace Prize Winner

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TAIPEI, Taiwan (Oct. 13) -- In the wake of Chinese pro-democracy activist Liu Xiaobo's Nobel Peace Prize win, congratulations -- and some criticisms -- have poured in from governments the world over. But in Asia, the silence has been deafening.

With the exception of Taiwan, and a low-key statement from Japan, Asian governments have kept quiet on the Nobel controversy -- neither supporting Liu nor taking the side of Beijing, which has furiously denounced the Nobel committee for the "blasphemy" of honoring a "convicted criminal."

The muted response reflects China's growing regional influence, Asia's authoritarian tendencies and a lack of regional leadership on human rights, says one activist.

"In general, developing countries, and especially Asian developing countries, try to stay on good terms with China," said Wang Songlian, research coordinator for China Human Rights Defenders, in a phone interview. "Asia continues to lag behind in promoting human rights, even though it has made great strides in economic development."

Liu is serving an 11-year jail sentence for "inciting subversion," a charge based on his peaceful calls for political reform in China, specifically through the Charter 08 manifesto he co-authored.

Wang said human rights activists "weren't expecting so much from Asian countries" in response to Liu's prize, because many of those countries, such as Vietnam and Burma, are also authoritarian, while others are "emerging from those tendencies."

But she singled out India as a democratic regional power that could do more but so far hasn't. "India is the only country big enough to counter this [China's] influence," said Wang. "But we're not seeing India providing leadership in this area. It's a bit disappointing that it's not saying anything."

Taiwan's government called for Liu's immediate release and for political reform in China, albeit after a day's delay that earned it criticism from the opposition. Despite warming ties with China, Taiwan prides itself on having shed an authoritarian past and changing into a vibrant, raucous democracy.

Japan's foreign minister made a bland statement saying that "fundamental human rights and freedom are important in any country."

An Indian official told The Times of India that "the decolonized world has learnt not to interfere in the internal affairs of each other," by way of explaining New Delhi's silence. The Times noted that the last time India congratulated an Asian democracy activist for winning the Peace Prize -- Burma's Aung San Suu Kyi in 1991 -- it lost out on "lucrative oil, gas and other business contracts."

Elsewhere, reaction to Liu's prize was a litmus test of a country's relations with China and support for human rights. Unconditional calls for Liu's release came from the U.S., U.K., Canada, France, Germany, Australia, New Zealand (belatedly) and the European Parliament.

On the other side, condemnation of Liu's honor came from Venezuela's Hugo Chavez and Cuban state-controlled media, which accused Liu of being a U.S. stooge. "The curriculum vitae of Liu Xiaobo is, as a matter of fact, not the least bit different from the type of 'dissident' the United States has for decades employed," wrote M.H. Lagarde on cubadebate.

Brazil, Russia and South Africa are among those countries that said little or nothing. The ruling African National Congress in the latter country came in for scathing criticism from one columnist, who noted the ANC's ties with past Nobel Peace Prize winner Nelson Mandela.

"So where we should be identifying with Liu in his long-standing fight for freedom for his fellow oppressed Chinese, you won't be hearing a congratulations from the ANC anytime soon," wrote Verashni Pillay in South Africa's Mail & Guardian. "Our freedom has been won and we'll be damned if we'll let someone else's fight interfere with our lucrative relationship with their oppressors."

The rest of Africa was mostly mum too ("The continent's new dependence on good relations with China has not gone unnoted," wrote one commentator), as was much of Latin America.

Latin America has made great strides in "transitions to democracy, and truth and reconciliation commissions dealing internally with countries' pasts," said China Human Rights Defenders' Wang. "But internationally, it hasn't stood up for human rights very constructively, either."

The European Commission, made up of appointed civil servants rather than elected officials, issued only a tepid statement that stopped short of calling for Liu's release.

And the United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon was also vague, saying in a statement only that the award was "a recognition of the growing international consensus for improving human rights practices and culture around the world," while going on to praise China for its economic progress.

Article 35 of China's own Constitution and Article 19 of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights list freedom of speech as a basic right of all citizens and peoples.

See Russia Today video on Liu and this year's Nobel Prize:



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Chinese Twitter clones

Twitter Clone Helps Chinese Family Thwart Authorities

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TAIPEI, Taiwan (Sept. 21) -- It was a typical case of property seizure, like those that happen nearly every day in China, but with a key difference.

This time microblogs blasted the story across the Chinese Internet, causing an immediate outpouring of sympathy this month for the Zhong family at the center of the dispute, and outrage against the local officials that tried to evict them.

By the end of the Internet drama, eight local officials had been removed from their posts or were under investigation, according to Chinese media reports. And the Zhong family's home remains standing.

The Zhongs' story shows how powerful social media have become in China as citizens turn to Twitter-like services in the absence of effective legal recourse, government help or a free media.

The drama unfolded in a small town in Jiangxi Province, according to a Southern Metropolis Daily article translated at the popular blog EastSouthWestNorth.

The local government had planned since 2007 to build a bus depot and was relocating residents, the report said. The Zhongs, who owned a three-story home on the planned site, were the last hold-outs -- and one of several families unhappy with the government's compensation offer.

In May the government cut off the family's electricity. Then, on the morning of Sept. 10, scores of local officials and police officers came to evict them by force.

In the struggle that ensued, the mother, Luo Zhifeng, an elderly male friend of the family, Ye Zhongcheng, and a daughter, Zhong Rujin, doused themselves with gasoline and lit themselves on fire in protest. The daughter, Zhong Rujin, tumbled out of the second floor to the ground outside the home like a "human fireball," according to the Southern Metropolis Daily, a scene caught in graphic photos taken by a neighbor.

All three were taken to a burn center; the man later died of his injuries.

Two other daughters of the family, Zhong Rujiu and Zhong Rucui, then attempted to take a plane to Beijing to petition the central government -- a common, if often ineffective, recourse for Chinese who feel local governments have violated their rights.

Local officials surrounded them in a ladies' restroom at the airport, forbidding them to go to Beijing. And that's where the microblogs -- weibo in Chinese -- came in.

A reporter for Phoenix Weekly "tweeted" about the restroom showdown on a microblog at Sina.com and posted local officials' cell phone numbers -- posts that quickly got over a million views, before Sina.com contacted the reporter to ask him to delete his posts.

The two sisters then launched two microblogs of their own to plead for help and support and to post the latest developments of their case.

In her first post on a Sina.com microblog on Sept. 17, one sister wrote, according to Chinabroadcast.cn: "How are you? My name is Zhong Rujiu. I am the youngest daughter in the family involved in the self-immolations in Yihuang county, Fuzhou city, Jiangxi province. I have seen how everybody on the Internet has been concerned about my family. I am very grateful."

Her posts notified net-users of each new development in the real-life drama, including the arrival of scores of local officials to seize her uncle's body, despite the family's protests. Later, when officials took the sisters and other relatives away on a bus, a picture of Zhong Rujiu pressed against the window was posted and re-posted on the Internet, faster than censors could delete it.

The case shows how social media is becoming an increasingly influential force in the lives of many Chinese, as well as a source of breaking -- if not always 100 percent accurate -- news.

According to a count from one social media consultant earlier this year, there are 221 million blogs and 176 million social network users in China, out of a total Internet population of 420 million.

In a recent poll by China Youth Daily reported at China Daily, half of survey respondents, most of whom were under 40, said they browse microblogs frequently, with more than 94 percent saying microblogging is "changing their life." More than 73 percent view microblogs as an important news source.

Sina.com hosts China's most popular Twitter clone, or microblog, with 20 million users since its launch just over a year ago, according to the website micgadget.com. Twitter itself is blocked in China.

In July, several Chinese microblogs were briefly inaccessible, fueling speculation that the government was tweaking them to allow them to be more easily blocked or censored when necessary. When the sites relaunched, all links to websites outside China were blocked.

Chinese authorities recently decided to require microblogs to appoint "self-discipline commissioners" responsible for censorship, according to the media group Reporters Without Borders.

China maintains a vast army of Internet censors who rapidly delete content deemed subversive from chat rooms, or block entire sites and blogs.

Forbidden content includes excessive criticism of the central government, promotion of Tibet or Taiwan independence, and discussion of the banned religious group Falun Gong.

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Truman Show begins

For Chinese Activist, 'The Truman Show' Begins

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TAIPEI, Taiwan (Sept. 13) -- A famous Chinese rights activist, recently released after serving four years in jail, now faces constant scrutiny that human rights groups compares to a more sinister version of "The Truman Show."

Chen Guangcheng, 38, was let out of jail Sept. 9 only to confront a regime of round-the-clock video surveillance, constant plainclothes police presence outside his home and monitoring or blocking of his and his relatives' cell phones. If he is allowed to go anywhere, he'll have a plainclothes police "escort."

Such surveillance, called "soft detention" (ruan jin) in Chinese, is what happens to activists whom the Chinese state deems not dangerous enough for jail but too dangerous to be left to their own devices. The treatment can last years, even decades.

The methods are illegal according to China's own laws, Chinese lawyers and rights activists say, and show how far authoritarian China still is from protecting citizens' rights that now exist only on paper.

"Illegal detention; conviction based upon fabricated charges; unlawful imprisonment," said Li Fangping, one of Chen's lawyers, in a statement from the New York-based Human Rights in China. "The case of this blind rights-defense lawyer bears witness to the sad state of the rule of law and human rights in China."

Chen was blinded by fever as a small child, according to The Associated Press. He came to the authorities' attention for preparing a legal case on how local government officials in rural Shandong province, southeast of Beijing, allegedly forced some 7,000 women to be sterilized or undergo abortions as part of harsh "one-child policy" family-planning measures, Agence France-Presse reported.

Such measures have been taken before in rural, poorer parts of China, even as wealthy Chinese in places like Shanghai use their wealth, connections or both to have two or more children.

China instituted its one-child policy in the late 1970s as a population control measure, but it is applied very differently in different areas of the vast country. A Chinese family planning official said in 2007 that less than 40 percent of the population was subject to the policy.

Chen was put under house arrest in 2005 and taken into custody in 2006 on what Human Rights Watch called "trumped-up charges" of destroying property and inciting a crowd to disturb traffic. The latter charge came after his supporters rioted over the first one.

On Sept. 9, police escorted Chen back to his home in the village of Dongshigu. Associated Press reporters on the scene said local authorities installed six security cameras last week, and a dozen agents watched his wife go shopping.

His relatives' phone lines were blocked, and about a dozen plainclothes cops blocked the main road of the village with a van, six of whom ran after journalists who tried to enter the village, the AP said. "After a brief scuffle with the journalists, the men jumped into their van and chased the journalists' car at high speed as they left the area," the AP report said.

In an interview with Radio Free Asia, Chen said he had been beaten severely at the beginning of his jail time. "[The beatings] were really bad at the beginning -- extremely severe in 2007," he told RFA. "Now, apart from the diarrhea, I'm not too bad. But my voice went a couple of days ago."

New York-based Human Rights Watch said in a statement, "Chen should never have been imprisoned in the first place. We expect that his full freedom will be restored and that the harassment of his family will finally cease."

But some analysts were pessimistic, saying that Chen would more likely face indefinite monitoring by the government.

"I am deeply concerned that following his release, Chen Guangcheng will be subject to this new form of low-visibility punishment, including round-the-clock and endless isolation enforced by government-hired thugs," said Jerome Cohen, an expert on Chinese law, in the Human Rights in China statement. (See a 2009 YouTube video of Cohen discussing Chen's case here.)

Chinese media made little or no mention of Chen's release, leaving the Chinese public typically in the dark about the sensitive news. An Internet news search using his Chinese name turned up only articles from Falun Gong-affiliated sites based outside of mainland China, as well as reports from the BBC and Deutsche Welle's Chinese-language sites.

Falun Gong, outlawed by China as an "evil cult," keeps up a steady drumbeat of criticism of China's human rights situation through its affiliated media based outside mainland China. See below a report from the Falun Gong-affiliated NTDTV on Chen's case.



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Killer cop stirs debate

Police Shooting Video Stirs Debate in China

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TAIPEI, Taiwan (July 14) -- A video of a plainclothes policewoman shooting dead a hostage-taker in Guangzhou has sparked sharp debate among the Chinese about how far police should go in dealing with higher crime rates.

Some are disturbed that the cop shot the hostage-taker four times, killing him, even though he appeared to have been taken out of action by the first shot and was armed only with a pair of scissors.

But others are celebrating her as a hero.

The incident highlights the ambivalence in China toward widespread, Dirty Harry-style police methods that, while at times effectively ruthless against wrongdoers, often show scant concern for human rights and sometimes compound the bloodshed.

The drama was broadcast live on Chinese TV, with the action beginning at around the 5:00 mark in the clip below.

The incident started around 8 p.m. July 6, after a botched robbery by an assailant wielding a pair of scissors, according to a report at Tianxue.com translated at Chinasmack.

The perp stabbed his robbery victim with the scissors when he resisted, then took a young woman hostage and made his standoff on a public sidewalk just in front of a bank's ATM alcove. Cops and snipers moved in, and the standoff dragged on as the robber clutched the bleeding hostage in a headlock.

Around 9:30 p.m., a plainclothes policewoman wearing a white pantsuit and elegant scarf approached close to the hostage. She put the robber off-guard by tossing him a bottle of cola, according to Tianxue. Then she reached under her blouse and retrieved a handgun.

Seconds later, as the perp reached down to get the bottle, she charged and fired. The robber and his hostage fell backward into the ATM alcove out of view of news cameras, and it was unclear whether he was hit. The plainclothes cop is then seen in videos moving into the alcove and shooting three more times. The hostage was quickly taken away to safety, while the perp died at the scene.

Video shows the daring plainclothes officer smiling and laughing in response to a reporter who told her, "Big sister, you're so impressive," minutes after the shooting.



In a commentary on Tianya.com, one commentator wrote: "The story of the brave policewoman was everywhere in the media today. I have doubts. What I think is that one shot already did the job. If she wanted to be on the safe side, after one shot, shouldn't she have run forward and kicked away the robber's weapon?"

Another person posting to Tianya wrote, according to a translation at EastSouthWestNorth, "If it was possible to arrest the suspect without killing him, then he should be kept alive. His crime does not deserve death. Even if he deserves to die, it should be decided by the judiciary. The present action shows utter disregard for human life."

Such posts led to angry reactions from other netizens, who had little sympathy for the robber and applauded the policewoman. "Hostage-takers are utterly evil, and reason demands that they be shot dead," wrote one, according to Chinasmack. "Hostage-takers are not bad people? Are you the robber's partner in crime?"

But others criticized the cop for being able to laugh just minutes after shooting someone dead. "No matter what, killing someone, especially if it was the first time killing someone, and then still being able to laugh afterward ...," wrote one. "This is China, everything is possible, nothing makes sense."

"Very stimulating, very realistic, much more enjoyable than cops-and-robber films," another chipped in. "Stop arguing, go to bed and wait to watch the next killing show."

The Tianxue report said that until killing the man, the 40-something policewoman, nicknamed "Ah Xiu," had only fired her weapon at the shooting range in the course of 27 years of service.

But she had extensive experience dealing with hostage situations, the report said, and was nicknamed the "female Sherlock Holmes" by her squadron for her skills in evaluating crime scenes. She comes from a police family, the report said.

In an interview posted with the article, Ah Xiu said she seized an opportunity to move on the hostage-taker because she was the closest cop and the one he was least "on guard" against. She said the situation was "hanging by a thread" and the cops had no choice but to move in. "If we didn't use force, there was no way to guarantee the hostage's safety," she said, according to the Tianxue report.

China executes by far the most people of any nation, according to Amnesty International, with more than 1,000 put to death in 2009, compared to some 388 in Iran and 52 in the U.S. Other human rights groups have higher estimates; the exact number is a state secret. Just last week, China executed the top justice official of crime-plagued Chongqing, who had also doubled as the metropolis' top mob boss, according to reports.

Crime jumped in China in 2009, according to a report by the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, and the Beijing Times said it was the first such spike in a decade. Guangzhou in particular has seen a rise in brazen robberies in recent years, amid a shortage of beat cops on the streets, according to another report.

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Film highlights 'white terror'

Political hit-jobs. The mob and the military in cahoots. Welcome to 1980s Taiwan.

Global Post, February 28, 2010

TAIPEI, Taiwan — Gangsters kill a Taiwanese-American professor in cold blood in the U.S., then flee back to Taiwan.

An FBI agent follows the killers' trail across the Pacific to Taipei, where he's shocked to discover the perpetrators had links with the government.

It's the plot of a new political thriller called "Formosa Betrayed." But the movie based on real events, including the 1984 murder of Taiwanese journalist Henry Liu in his home in Daly City, Calif., by thugs acting on orders from Taiwan military intelligence.

The film, released in the U.S. on Feb. 26, shines a spotlight on a troubled chapter of Taiwan's history that's little known beyond its shores.

"Formosa Betrayed" brings to the screen the early 1980s peak of the White Terror. That's Taiwan's name for the authoritarian Kuomintang's monitoring, harassment, imprisonment and in some cases execution of its political enemies during the martial law era from the 1940s to the 1980s.

Taiwan threw off martial law in 1987 and democratized. But it has yet to confront all the ghosts from its past.

In many cases the truth remains buried, with government files sealed and perpetrators still walking the streets unpunished.

Taiwan's experience mirrors those of similar countries wrestling with the sins of autocratic fathers. Think Chile's Pinochet, or South Korea's Park Chung-hee.

It also holds lessons for today's authoritarian China. Beijing uses methods straight out of the KMT's playbook, and has updated White Terror techniques for the 21st century with widespread cell-phone tapping and cyber-snooping.

Turning point

Before the mid-1980s, Washington turned a blind eye to the KMT's harsh methods because it was a staunch World War II and anti-communist ally — the supposedly "free" China.

But Henry Liu's assassination was so brazen it couldn't be ignored, said veteran American journalist Melinda Liu, who covered the story for Newsweek.

"When it became clear that some Taiwan authorities were willing to export dirty tricks to American soil, that raised alarm bells," wrote Liu in an email. "Taipei's supporters in Washington could not easily defend murder and other violations of American laws when they occurred on U.S. turf."

The U.S. Congress became more active in pressing for human rights in Taiwan, and passed a resolution that Henry Liu's killers be extradited to the U.S. for trial (Taiwan rejected that). Such pressure helped nudge Taiwan toward democracy.

Will Tiao, one of the actors and producers of "Formosa Betrayed," helped raise more than $6 million for the movie from Taiwanese in the United States and Canada. He said the film had touched a nerve in the community.

"Many of the investors and supporters of the film were directly affected by the events of the White Terror period," wrote Tiao, himself a Kansas-born Taiwanese-American, in an email. "Most of them were spied upon or asked to spy upon others. Many were blacklisted. Some were arrested or their families arrested. And some had worse things happen to them."

"So this film is very personal and emotional to them because it's really the first time they have gotten a chance to tell their story to a worldwide audience. For some, it's been a healing process."

Debating history

In Taiwan, people still can't agree on how to heal. Some in the old KMT's machine of repression have reinvented themselves as democrats. Their supporters say Taiwan should move on. Cynics say past KMT sins are too often used by the opposition to score political points. And for most young people, it's all ancient history.

But the era is still fresh in many people's minds.

Social work professor Karleen Chiu recalls how scared she and other students were in 1981 when a visiting Taiwanese-American professor was found dead on her college campus in Taipei, just hours after a marathon interrogation session by KMT secret police. (An official probe ruled the professor's death a suicide or accident, which many found hard to swallow.)

Later, Chiu was a graduate student at Ohio State University when Henry Liu was murdered. Even on American soil, Taiwanese students were scared silent, afraid to talk to other Taiwanese who might be KMT informants.

"You didn't even talk to your roommates about that (Liu's murder) because you didn't know which side they were on," said Chiu. "You didn't want to be blacklisted. You might not be able to come back to Taiwan. The fear was always there."

Historian Chen Yi-shen said that government files that could expose the truth of cases such as Henry Liu's remain sealed; only those pre-1980 have been opened. Chen is among those who aren't willing to simply forget the past.

"Only if you know the truth can you have forgiveness," said Chen, of Academia Sinica's Institute of Modern History in Taipei. "If you don't have the truth, how can you resolve this history?"

Chen said there wasn't enough known evidence to prove that high level KMT politicians ordered Henry Liu's murder. It's possible that over-zealous military officials acted on their own.

"It's like raising a dog to be very fierce," said Chen. "Sometimes you can't control it, and it can run off and bite people."

KMT military intelligence's role in the killing only came to light because one of the gangsters, Bamboo Union leader Chen Chi-li, aka "King Duck", made secret tape recordings to protect himself, and gave them to a friend in Texas. King Duck served less than six years in jail, and later lived high on the hog in a luxury home in Cambodia.

Liu's murder, and similar cases, led professor Chen and a group of others to quit the KMT, and publicly burn their party membership cards.

"We all changed in the 1980s," said Chen. "How could the government kill people like this? We thought staying in the KMT would be shameful."

Pursuing justice

In addition to opening government files, Chen and others have pressed for a national human rights museum funded by the sale of KMT property, not taxpayer money (KMT legislators cut funding for that project, he says). He says Taiwan needs special legislation for trying White Terror abuses as government crimes against the people.

And he points to South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission as a possible model for Taiwan to follow.

He and others had high hopes in 2000 when a government of former democracy activists and human rights lawyers took power, only to be disappointed by that government's inaction. He says the current president, the KMT's Ma Ying-jeou, only pays "lip service" to the subject with ritual apologies. "No power transfer, no transition, no justice," said Chen, shaking his head.

Now, Chen says he's on Beijing's blacklist for his pro-Taiwan independence views. He's barred from visiting China, and says a technician traced spyware on his computer back to Beijing.

"Now the CCP is doing what the KMT did," said Chen. "They're just lagging behind by 30 years."

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Taiwan's gods of metal

They're loud. They're angry. They hate the Chinese government

Meet Chthonic, Taiwan's premier metal act. Don't expect to see them in China anytime soon.

Global Post, January 24, 2010

TAIPEI, Taiwan — The first time Taiwanese metal band Chthonic toured America, audiences didn't exactly give them a warm welcome.

"They stood there with open mouths, and some shouted that they wanted to see the headline band instead," recalled bassist Doris Yeh, in an interview early this month.

But Chthonic would typically silence the hecklers with their first tight, bone-crunching number. "I don't think they were prepared for seeing a band from the Orient," said Yeh. "They were shocked by our outfits and songs."

Chthonic has played Taiwan since the mid-1990s, mixing an "extreme metal" sound, derived from Scandinavian bands, with Asian flavors and a strong pro-Taiwan political stance.

Now, the band is starting to win converts abroad, too. They're recently back from a second tour of the U.S. and Europe, which featured songs from their latest album, "Mirror of Retribution," slickly produced by Anthrax guitarist Rob Caggiano in English and Chinese versions.

Chthonic was named second best band in Terrorizer magazine's 2009 reader poll, after Behemoth. Chad Bowar, the heavy metal editor at About.com, said in an email that when it comes to the best-known Asian metal band on the scene now, it's now a "toss-up" between Chthonic and two Japanese acts, Sigh and Dir En Grey.

"Their look is definitely unique, with the makeup, and using traditional Taiwanese instruments like the erhu (a mournful string instrument) also sets them apart," said Bowar, explaining Chthonic's appeal. "Their political activities help keep them in the spotlight."

"The music is also very good, and without that the other things wouldn't matter."

Bassist Yeh's sex appeal can't hurt, either. She's posed for FHM Taiwan and, to judge by fan websites, has already inspired more than a few metalhead crushes. "She's like three or four fetishes rolled into one," quipped one fan at Chthonic's recent show in Taipei.

Yeh's on a roll: She was voted the second most popular bassist in the Terrorizer reader poll, made Revolver magazine's "Hottest Chicks in Metal" calendar and was featured as GQ Taiwan's "GQ girl" for this January.

Strong politics

In Taiwan, the band — especially 33-year-old songwriter and vocalist Freddy Lim — is well known for their outspoken politics. "Freddy," as he's known here, was a regular on political talk shows in the lead-up to the 2008 presidential election, and rallied youth support for the pro-independence party.

Now, Lim says he's told producers he's not interested in more talk show appearances, despite the easy pay (about $150 per show). He'd rather go on the unpaid university lecture circuit to speak out on his favorite causes.

"I want to influence young people on issues like Tibet, and global human rights," said Lim. "Tibetans, Uighurs, people in Myanmar — they face even worse situations than Taiwan. As Taiwanese, I feel we have the power and responsibility to support them."

Such causes haven't made Chthonic any friends in the Chinese government. Lim says he's been to China seven times, but hasn't been able to go after he organized a "Free Tibet" concert in 2003. Said Yeh: "We know we're on the blacklist."

Lim says he would love to tour China again, and that he stands on the side of Chinese human rights fighters. "I'm not anti-China, I'm anti-Chinese government," he emphasizes. The problem isn't the Chinese Communist Party's ideology, but its repression.

"China's communists aren't communists," said Lim. "They're communist in name, but they're really just tyrannical bastards."

Historical anger

Lim started the band in 1996, inspired by Scandinavian acts like Norway's Emperor and Sweden's At the Gates. But though he loved such music, he couldn't relate to the cultural symbols and messages, especially the anti-Christian themes.

"I'm always an outsider in their culture," said Lim. "The percentage of Christians here is very low, so there's no reason for us to be anti-Christian."

A search for themes to inspire Chthonic's lyrics and message led him to local history instead. "I felt like, if I want to write my own extreme metal songs with the same anger and feeling, it wouldn't be anti-Christian, or Satanic, because I have no emotion or passion about that."

"So I started to think more locally. What I really care about is my homeland."

In Taiwan's history, Lim found plenty to be angry about. "The whole of Taiwan's history is one of oppression by different empires — Dutch, Spanish, Japanese and Chinese," he said.

The oppression persists, this time from China's current government, which has some 1,300 missiles pointed at Taiwan and has vowed to some day absorb the self-ruled island, by military force if need be.

"We're under another kind of oppression, so we write our songs from these roots, and we put in stories from history," said Yeh.

Hear more from Yeh in this interview:

One album's theme was Taiwan Aborigines' resistance to Japanese colonial rule (1895-1945). The latest album, "Mirror of Retribution," tells the story of a spirit medium who journeys to hell to try to steal the book of life and death so he can rewrite Taiwan's history.

The backdrop is the real-life 228 massacre of 1947, when Kuomintang troops under Chiang Kai-shek slaughtered tens of thousands of local Taiwanese who had risen up against the KMT's bumbling, tyrannical rule.

Lim said the story was one way to introduce fans to the "oriental philosophy of hell," which includes 18 levels, 100 small levels and 10 courts presided over by 10 ghost kings.

Welcoming confrontation

In a packed basement club in Taipei in late December, scores of Taiwanese banged their heads in unison and made the "devil's horns" sign with their upraised hands.

Now and then a fan threw in the air a fistful of paper "ghost money," traditionally burned here to appease ancestors or wandering spirits.

On stage, Lim screamed into the microphone between strands of long black hair, one booted foot planted on a monitor. His voice was nearly drowned out by a thunderous wall of distorted guitar and furious drumming.

When the number was over, two well-dressed youngsters took the stage to hand Freddy a bouquet of flowers. The gift was from a pro-independence candidate, who just won a county commissioner's post, to thank Freddy for his support.

It was clearly a love-fest for Chthonic and their loyal Taiwanese fans. On the first U.S. tour, though, Freddy said they heard that some Chinese students — angered by the band's pro-Taiwan stance — wanted to protest outside one of their gigs in California. In the end, it didn't happen.

"Most of our fans there were very strong guys with tattoos — Mexicans, white guys — and some older Taiwanese-Americans too," said Lim, with a chuckle. "I don't think the Chinese students wanted to fight them."

He said he hasn't yet been confronted by Chinese students at lectures, as happened recently here to a prominent, exiled Chinese democracy activist. (Taiwan's government is allowing Chinese students to study here in increasing numbers.) In any case, Lim welcomes such showdowns and said they're healthy for Taiwan.

"If you don't deal with Chinese people and talk to them, you don't know how different you are, and how different your values are," said Lim. "Without the people you hate, you don't know the people you love."

Chthonic hopes to tour the U.S. and Europe again before September, when their American visas expire. Another album is in the works for 2011. They're currently looking for a new manager.

Original site

China charges activist

In a closely-watched case, Liu Xiaobo faces a 15-year jail sentence for "inciting subversion."

Global Post, December 11, 2009

TAIPEI, Taiwan — Chinese prosecutors have formally charged democracy activist Liu Xiaobo with "inciting subversion," a year after he co-authored a call for sweeping political change in China.

The lawyer, Shang Baojun, said by phone that he received the prosecution papers Friday, and that Liu had been formally charged the day before. The lawyer expects a trial anytime after Dec. 20, and likely lasting only a half-day.

Liu could get up to 15 years jail time, with a five- to 15-year sentence "very likely," his lawyer said.

"Charter 08" is a blueprint for political reform in China (see text in English). It calls for an end to the Chinese Communist Party's monopoly on power, multiparty elections, rule of law and the separation of powers.

Upon its release on the internet a year ago, Liu was taken into custody. He has been in detention since then — without charge, until Thursday.

In the past, China has released jailed activists under international pressure. Rights groups were hoping Beijing might do the same for Liu Xiaobo before or after President Obama's visit.

"A lot of people have great hopes for Obama as a person who really believes in human rights," said Wang Songlian, a research coordinator with Chinese Human Rights Defenders. "And a lot of people were hoping that he would come out stronger and raise Liu Xiaobo's name publicly. Unfortunately that didn't happen, and that was very disappointing."

Wang said that for many Chinese activists, Obama's public silence on the issue had let to speculation on a shift in "power dynamics" between the U.S. and China.

"We're afraid that might be true that the U.S. is dependent on China in the financial crisis and feels that it needs to be kinder to China, and not criticize," said Wang. "But we believe it's in the interests of both the U.S. and the Chinese people that the U.S. come out strongly with what it believes, refer specially to China's human rights issues, and not avoid sensitive topics."

While Obama talked in general terms about U.S. values during his China visit, he didn't publicly address China's poor human rights record, she said. That may be an intentional effort to downplay criticism and focus on areas of cooperation, said Wang. But if so, she said, the approach is misguided.

"We think China's lack of transparency on human rights issues has implications on all kinds of topics — pollution targets, carbon dioxide targets, trade — that the U.S. wants to work with China on," said Wang. "You can't divorce these things."

Wang said her group now fears that Charter 08's other authors may be charged too. Zhang Zuhua, a Beijing-based expert on constitutional development, is one co-author. In an interview last year, he said Charter 08 embodied "universal values" which China should gradually adopt, and that he didn't expect change "overnight."

Zhang was detained, questioned and released a year ago. His home was then put under round-the-clock surveillance. According to Chinese Human Rights Defenders, this year security officials "warned him not to give interviews, meet with others or write articles about the anniversary, and threatened to imprison him if he does not comply."

Repeated calls to Zhang's home and cell phone went unanswered Friday.

A Guangzhou-based signer of Charter 08 who goes by the pen name "Ye Du" said he believed the Chinese government had charged Liu because it calculated the costs would be low.

"Foreign governments, especially the U.S., haven't given China much pressure on human rights, so they [the Chinese government] think this won't give rise to much opposition from abroad," he said in a phone interview.

Ye said President Obama has shown the most "sharp regression" in 20 years in terms of U.S. pressure on China's human rights. He mused that this must have something to do with the massive amount of U.S. Treasuries now held by China.

Ye said he was one of the original 303 signers of Charter 08; some 10,000 have now signed the document. On Dec. 9 last year, shortly after Ye signed it, the police came and questioned him for three or four hours, he said.

China's 30 years of economic reforms had achieved "huge improvements" in people's standard of living, Ye said. But he said Charter 08 was critical because the lack of accompanying political reforms had led to many "contradictions" in Chinese society.

Ye is one of some 200 charter signers who on Thursday issued another open letter titled, "We are willing to share responsibility with Liu Xiaobo." (See text in simplified Chinese).

"We're all afraid of being charged," said Ye. "But we must do this. If we didn't, we would let down Liu Xiaobo, and let ourselves down, too — our commitment to freedom and democracy."

Original site

Silicon Sweatshops part 5: A promising model

There's no easy way to police supply chains in Asia. But one US high-tech firm and its Taiwan supplier are taking a creative approach that might just work.

Global Post, November 17, 2009 (fifth in a 5-part series)

With Kathleen E. McLaughlin

DONGGUAN, China — If fixing labor conditions in the high-tech supply chain seems hopeless, consider the case of Xiao Yang.

Xiao, a young migrant worker from Henan Province, works at a factory in Dongguan, this one a 5,000-employee high-tech firm owned by Taiwan's Chicony. The firm supplies keyboards, computer mice and other peripherals to the world's top PC firm, HP, and other major brands.

The factory looks like any other in this part of China, and doesn't have state-of-the-art facilities. But it feels like a different world.

"At this factory, we get paid for annual leave and other conditions, according to the law," said Xiao, while showing a GlobalPost reporter around tidy dorm rooms. "It's well-known among other workers as a good factory."

Workers have access to KTV (karaoke) and a basketball court. They get free annual medical checks. And every once in a while they dine on chicken feet – considered a big delicacy for Chinese kids from the countryside, and unheard of at other factories.

Most importantly, though, they say they know their rights, and management listens to them. A telephone hotline allows them to make anonymous complaints. Every Friday, managers post a list of the complaints they've received and how they're being resolved.

All this didn't happen on its own. In what is thought to be the first project of its kind in the industry, HP collaborated with several Hong Kong nonprofit groups to improve conditions at its supplier factories.

Starting in the summer of 2007, the nonprofits worked with Chicony to educate workers about their rights. One group, the Chinese Working Women Network, set up and ran the workers' complaint hotline, and then trained workers themselves to run it.

HP covered the Chinese Working Women Network's costs for the training, but declined to reveal the total amount. Chicony pitched in its own funds to improve the factory's food and other working conditions.

"The cost is affordable to any company — even small suppliers could handle the amount," said Ernest Wong, a Hong Kong-based supply chain responsibility official for HP. "But the cost isn't the critical point. The key is how you engage with the supplier company."

At first, convincing skeptical Chicony managers to work with an NGO wasn't easy, said Jenny Chan, formerly with the Hong Kong-based group Students and Scholars against Corporate Misbehavior (SACOM), which coordinated the project at Chicony (SACOM says it receives no direct funding from HP).

"It's like a marathon," said Chan. "It's so tough to convince factory managers that these are new expectations, not only from your customers, but from global citizens and how they think of a good and competitive factory."

But to listen to one Chicony manager, the firm has found the corporate responsibility religion. Chen Jianqiao said that the program has created a "win-win situation" for both management and workers. Workers are more efficient because they feel their voices are heard and respected; management wins points and new business with Western customers and has fewer conflicts with employees.

"The benefit to the workers is a benefit to the company," said Chen. "Because of this program, our customers have noticed, and our business is going well despite the economic crisis. We haven't experienced any downturn."

Involving workers and rights groups

In a globalized world, where Taiwanese bosses run factories using Filipino and Chinese workers to produce gadgets for American consumers, there's no easy fix to the problem of rampant labor rights abuses.

The best solution would be found in Asia itself. In Taiwan, that means better legal protections for foreign migrant workers, and major reform or scrapping of the exploitative labor brokerage system. For Taiwanese workers, labor-management communication needs to be improved, and unions may help. In China, basic labor regulations need to be better enforced.

Getting such change is likely to be a long, slow process. And activists say it will depend in part on Filipinos, Taiwanese and Chinese themselves demanding better labor rights.

In the meantime, activists say big brands should follow the lead of HP, by enlisting outside NGOs and factory workers in improving conditions at their suppliers. Such an approach, they say, is a big improvement on toothless "codes of conduct" and spot audits, which too often turn into dog-and-pony shows. Some in the industry agree that audits have only limited usefulness.

"The natural reaction for the audited party is to try to pass the audit and therefore not to show eventual issues to the auditor," wrote Sony Ericsson corporate responsibility official Mats Pellback-Scharp, according to a report last year from one rights group. "Audits can never be more than, at best, a snapshot of the situation."

Labor rights activists make a few other suggestions. One is that big brands be more transparent by making public their list of suppliers. This makes it easier for NGOs to identify who's making what for whom, and therefore which firms need to take responsibility.

"Consumers have the right to demand that companies be transparent about the work they conduct," said Sara Nordbrand, a researcher at the Stockholm-based NGO Swedwatch. "Most electronics brands still do not acknowledge customers' right to information about the circumstances under which the products they buy are produced," she said. "Many companies still, for example, regard the names of their suppliers as being 'business secrets' and do not comment on findings of journalists and organizations."

Apple, for example, has refused to publicize its supplier list. Per company policy, it doesn't usually confirm or deny its supplier relationships. (It made an exception by denying any current relationship with the specific Dongguan Masstop factory mentioned in this series.) "We respect confidentiality, which is one of the reasons why we don't go into details about our suppliers and who they are," said Apple spokesperson Jill Tan.

Activists say big brands should also provide more financial support for programs like the HP and Chicony project. "Pushing prices down while at the same time demanding better working conditions is an equation that's hard to solve for suppliers down the chain," said Annika Torstensson, project leader of the Stockholm-based Fair Trade Center.

Apple, for example, was making record profits at the time of allegations described in this series — while Wintek was being hammered by months of losses. The brands can afford corrective measures much more than their low-margin contractors.

“Baby steps”

Chicony's factory isn't perfect, of course, and neither was HP's pilot project. "These are only baby steps," said Chan, the activist. But it shows what can happen when a big U.S. brand takes a creative, open-minded approach to corporate responsibility, collaborates with NGOs and, importantly, ponies up the cash.

Chicony also deserves credit for opening its doors to an outside NGO — the stuff of nightmares for many a factory boss — and committing itself to improving communication with its workers.

HP isn't immune from criticism. Critics point to one gripe: While it publishes a list of its suppliers, it doesn't give information on specific factory locations, making it difficult for outsiders to monitor.

But of the big high-tech firms, labor rights groups consistently give HP the highest marks. "Hewlett Packard is setting the pace for social responsibility in China," rights groups wrote in a 2008 report.

A more recent report by the Dutch group SOMO this past May remarked, "For a code [of conduct] to be implemented in such a way that it will have effect on the workplace, companies have to work with local organizations and trade unions. So far only HP works, in some cases, with civil society organizations ... only HP has worked with NGOs in China on implementation and worker trainings."

At least one other company, Dell, has shown interest in following HP's example. "Dell is open to working with NGOs that are willing to collaborate in building capability with suppliers," said Dell in an emailed statement.

Meanwhile, rights groups give Apple some credit for bulking up its social responsibility team in recent years — but low marks for a lack of transparency. Fujitsu-Siemens Computers got the booby prize, for what rights groups said was its reluctance to accept responsibility for its supply chain. "The company is neither committed nor transparent," two groups said in the 2008 report. Fujitsu spokesman Archie Mochizuki said in an emailed response that the firm "has and continues to carefully evaluate working conditions at its suppliers," and that it had made clear to suppliers that "cooperation would be suspended" with firms that do not meet its code of conduct.

Critics, though, remain firm in their belief that more can be done.

"We have to know more about how a product is made, and about the people who are really creating value for society," said Chan. "Workers deserve basic respect. I hope we can treat them as human beings, not just as working machines.”

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Silicon Sweatshops, introduction
Shattered dreams
Disposable workforce
The China connection

Original site

Silicon Sweatshops part 4: the China Connection

For migrant workers, an electronics factory job can be a ticket into China's booming middle class. But for many, it turns into a nightmare of poor working conditions and indifferent bosses.

Global Post, November 17, 2009 (fourth in a 5-part series)

With Kathleen E. McLaughlin

DONGGUAN, China — Months after a massive strike halted assembly lines at an electronics firm here in southern China, the factory's workers are fatalistic.

"Even after the strike, nothing gets better," said a shaggy-haired, 25-year-old from Hubei province who's worked at the factory, Dongguan Masstop, for a year and a half. "Conditions are still very bad. The food gets worse and worse. And every time I see my supervisor, I tell him it's too hot at my work station."

"It's depressing, because nothing ever changes," he said.

After several months of plunging profits, the electronics components maker Dongguan Masstop — a fully owned subsidiary of Taiwan's Wintek — told workers in February that their overtime pay rate would be slashed as a cost-cutting measure, labor groups said. Activists said that managers cut workers' salaries without negotiating with them first.

Wintek insists it got approval for this measure from the local government and an "employee representative meeting," according to the company's statement.

Workers rejected the pay cut and took several other gripes to management, including bad food and unsanitary dining conditions. (See the blog of one Dongguan Masstop worker, in simplified Chinese.) According to the Hong Kong-based labor rights group Students and Scholars Against Corporate Misbehavior (SACOM), 100 workers were hospitalized with food poisoning in March as a result of unhealthy conditions.

Seeing no improvement, the workers went on strike in April. Most returned to the lines when the firm agreed to keep their overtime pay rate untouched. Activists said 19 workers who continued to strike were laid off.

Complex and murky

Wintek has supplied Apple, Nokia and other top brands, according to eight current and former employees, labor rights groups and industry analysts. (Nokia confirmed that Wintek is a supplier; Apple said it does not confirm supplier relationships.) Dongguan Masstop is one of the Wintek group's key factories in China.

But Masstop's exact relationship with global electronics brands is unclear. Workers at Dongguan Masstop don't even know who exactly they're making components for. Both Apple and Nokia insist none of their parts or products come out of this specific factory, which has been the target of relentless criticism from labor rights groups since April.

Jenny Chan, formerly with SACOM, said her group has heard from workers that Wintek was handling rush orders from Apple at the time of the troubles in April. "We think they also got the Dongguan facility to do some part," said Chan. SACOM also says Nokia visited the factory in September on an inspection tour, as a potential customer (Nokia had no comment).

Wintek has production lines in Taiwan, China and India, said Chan, and can move orders around as needed. So when Nokia disassociated itself from the Dongguan Masstop factory in conversations with SACOM about conditions there, Chan urged the firm to take a broader view of its corporate responsibility.

"Their excuse was that at the Dongguan factory, none of the assembly lines are directly related to Nokia," said Chan. "But next month, Wintek could redistribute orders, so we said, 'Don't be so short-sighted.'"

GlobalPost interviewed three Dongguan Masstop workers near the factory, in this gritty manufacturing hub. Inside, some 10,000 workers — mostly young migrants from far-flung Chinese provinces — toil around the clock making electronic components.

Welcome to go-go China

The workers are chasing a dream of upward mobility in the go-go factory towns of southern China. It's a way to earn a pile of cash before they return to the provinces. And for the lucky, it can be a stepping-stone into China's rapidly growing middle class.

The three young workers spoke on condition of anonymity, fearing they'd be fired or punished for complaining. They said the factory's treatment of its workers hasn't improved since April, and may even be getting worse.

"Working conditions in the factory haven't changed at all," since the strike, said a 19-year-old woman from Hunan Province with a springy, wedge haircut who has worked at the factory for three years.

If the workers complaints' are correct, the factory is violating one key electronics industry group's code of conduct, and possibly Chinese labor laws.

The Electronic Industry Citizenship Coalition includes most major electronics brands. Its code of conduct says workers should get at least one day off every seven days, and only work more than 60 hours a week in "emergency or unusual" circumstances. It also bans pre-employment tests that could discriminate against some potential workers.

Dongguan Masstop workers said they clock 70-hour weeks — 10-hour shifts every day of the week, making from $235 to $366 a month, which comes out to as little as 83 cents per hour.

The 25-year-old from Hubei said his last day off had been nearly three weeks before, and only because he started working the night shift. "Before that, I can't remember my last day off," he said.

All three believe they were tested for Hepatitis B, a common pre-employment procedure in southern China factories. The test can lead to discrimination against carriers of the disease, even though it's not transmittable in casual contact.

All three said the factory employs under-aged workers, though they couldn't offer proof. They say labor shortages in the south are now making child labor more common. "Many factories have workers that are too young, especially the places that have trouble recruiting," said a 21-year-old female worker from Hubei. It's routine in Dongguan to get fake or borrowed documents to change one's age.

"There's a boy from my hometown who is so thin and small, I knew he couldn't be more than 14," said the young man from Hubei. "I asked, and he said that he hadn't finished middle school."

The workers said Dongguan Masstop put up a notice saying Nokia was coming on an inspection tour. While there was no specific "coaching" or threats, the three said that the notice was a tacit message to workers to keep their mouths shut.

"We weren't told exactly [what to say] by our bosses, but we know what we're supposed to say to Nokia and the others," said the young man. "It's common knowledge what you can and can't say."

And when the factory's big customers do come in to interview workers about conditions, their Taiwanese bosses sit next to them, the workers said.

Wintek declined to comment on any of these specific allegations by workers, which were emailed to the company. "The activities of each company in the Wintek Group are conducted in accordance with local laws and regulations," said Wintek Vice President James Chen, in an email.

"We also take care to fulfill our corporate social responsibilities and to ensure a comfortable, healthy and safe environment for our employees. We keep good communication with our employees to make sure their rights and interests under legal requirement are guaranteed."

Next in the series: "A Promising Model"

Previous:
Silicon Sweatshops, Introduction
Shattered dreams
Disposable workforce

Original site

Silicon Sweatshops part 3: Disposable Workforce

Laid-off Taiwanese workers accuse their firm of violating industry codes even when times were good.

Global Post, November 17, 2009 (third in a 5-part series)

TAICHUNG, Taiwan — When she left work at dawn on Dec. 17 last year, Gao Yun-sheng, 49, got a rude surprise.

She worked for eleven and a half years at the Wintek factory, which she and eight other current and former employees interviewed by GlobalPost say has supplied Apple, Nokia, Motorola and other electronics brands. Lately, Gao had been working the graveyard shift, making about $720 a month mounting components on circuit boards.

But when she clocked out that morning, her managers had a message for her. "They told me, tomorrow you don't need to come in," said Gao. "I couldn't accept it."

When co-worker Chen Hsiu-zhi, 41, showed up a few hours later to begin the day shift, they told her "you can't come in," she said. She'd also been canned.

Compared with migrant workers from Southeast Asia, Taiwanese workers have it good. They have better salaries, benefits and legal protection.

But that didn't make much difference for Gao, Chen and about 600 other Taiwanese workers at the Wintek factory. Gao and Chen said they were laid off with no warning late last year, when the global economic recession hit. The workers who stayed were forced to take unpaid leave, the two said.

In an interview at a coffee shop in Taichung, Gao, Chen and two other former Wintek workers vented about how the company had treated them. But long before the firings, they said, Wintek was routinely violating requirements of Apple's and the Electronic Industry Citizenship Coalition's codes of conduct. (The EICC is an industry group whose members include most top electronics brands, including Apple, Dell and HP.)

Long hours, fear of organizing

Apple's code prohibits workweeks of more than 60 hours except in "emergency or unusual" situations, and says overtime should be voluntary. The former Wintek workers said employees routinely clocked 65- to 70-hour weeks, and "if you don't cooperate with overtime, they'll deduct money from your salary," said Liu Jie, 42.

Instead of being paid an overtime salary, workers were often given extra paid vacation time and could only take it with the firm's approval, the former workers said.

Apple's code requires a telephone hotline or other anonymous grievance mechanism for workers; Wintek has none, the former workers said. “Our bosses are blind and deaf," said Liu, putting her hand over her eyes then ears.

Apple's code says its suppliers' employees should be able to join workers' associations and bargain collectively. The former workers said even talk of unionizing would put their jobs in jeopardy.

"Before, some people [publicly] brought up forming a union," said Gao. "Two or three days later, they were gone. They'd been fired. So people are afraid of losing their jobs."

The four workers weren't familiar with details of Apple's code of conduct until they were read to them. They said they'd heard from co-workers who had returned to Wintek that the company had warned about careless talk and told employees to say good things about Wintek ahead of an Apple visit early this summer. Such "coaching" is yet another Apple code violation.

"They [Wintek] are cheating Apple," said Gao. "What Apple tells the Wintek bosses goes in one ear and out the other. Wintek wants Apple's orders, so of course they would say 'OK' to everything."

"Apple also has some responsibility," said Liu, as the others nodded. "Apple has no idea they have such a badly managed company making their products."

"If Apple sees a company has problems, but still gives them orders, then Apple has a problem too, doesn't it?" added Chen.

Months of protest

After the layoffs last year, about 60 of the laid-off workers and labor activists launched protests. The company agreed to rehire pregnant workers and some long-time employees (12 years or more at the firm), the former workers said. That didn't satisfy the remaining laid-off workers.

So they and activists took their grievances directly to Apple, with a protest outside the U.S. firm's Taipei offices in late May.

Four months later, organizers said there was some progress on getting overtime pay after the company got bad publicity.

"After we went to protest at Apple, it gave Wintek a lot of pressure, not just from Apple, but from other customers, like Nokia," said Chu Wei-li, secretary-general of the Taipei-based National Federation of Independent Trade Unions, in an interview at a Taipei coffee shop in September. "Their customers got a bit nervous."

About half of the 60 who protested returned to jobs at Wintek, the former workers and activists said. The company offered the other 30 temporary or "dispatch" work, at $3 an hour or $30 for a day. They rejected this, saying the salary was too low, with no guarantee of steady work.

Meanwhile, at another Wintek plant in northern Taiwan, workers formed perhaps the island's first union at a high-tech firm. A union member who asked only to be identified by her family name, Chiu, said they organized in August after work conditions had gotten out of hand.

"The company laid off a lot of people because of last year's financial tsunami (a popular term here for the global recession)," said Chiu. "Conditions got worse and worse. One person was doing two or three people's work. We all felt bitter. Our salary was so small, but there was so much work."

Chiu said the workers have had some difficulties forming the union, because "when people hear the word union, they get scared." She said the union has only had a minor impact so far — workers are still owed back pay for several holidays, for example — and she didn't want to reveal how many union members there were because they might lose bargaining leverage.

Chiu said she'd only very recently heard about Apple's "code of conduct," while doing her own surfing on the internet.

No “material” issue

Neither Wintek nor Apple would confirm their business relationship, citing confidentiality. Nokia confirmed that Wintek is one its suppliers. Motorola declined to comment.

Wintek declined to respond to any of the specific allegations made by former and current workers. "We have communication with these employees, when they raise any issues, we will communicate with them," said Wintek Vice President James Chen. "Currently we keep this dialogue smoothly, so we don't think there's any material pending issue."

Apple also declined to respond to any specific allegations made by workers. Spokesperson Jill Tan referred GlobalPost back to the company's latest report on its auditing activity. She also pointed to Apple's programs on workers' rights training.

Chu, the trade unionist, said Wintek insisted to him that the situation has improved, while there's been "absolutely no response" from Apple on the workers' complaints. Chu hopes that U.S. labor unions will show solidarity and launch their own actions against Apple. But he's not optimistic.

Meanwhile, Wintek slapped him and two other activists with a defamation suit, he said.

"We think that Apple and Wintek's attitude is 'hen zaogao,'" said Chu, using a phrase that loosely translates as "messed up." "Apple is such a high-quality brand, with very good products. But they should pay more attention to the labor exploitation problem. They make so much money because of these workers."

Shaking his head, Chu said: "Apple has ignored its responsibility."

Next in the series: The China Connection

Previous:
Silicon Sweatshops, introduction
Shattered dreams

Original site

Silicon Sweatshops part 2: Shattered Dreams

Migrant workers making gadgets at Taiwan's high-tech parks sign deals that make them modern-day indentured servants.

Global Post, November 17, 2009 (second in a 5-part series)

TANZI, Taiwan — For Filipina workers at the export processing zone here, complaining too loudly about your employer can get you fired.

So says Father Joy Tajonera, who preaches and helps such workers from his center here on busy Zhongshan Road as part of the Ugnayan Migrant and Immigrant Ministry.

"Women who stand up for their rights end up losing their jobs," said Tajonera. "Their names will be blacklisted, so they can't come back [to work in Taiwan]. So they say 'let's keep quiet.'"

After dark on a September night, before the start of her shift, one such Filipina worker, 25, walked from her dorm, past a jumble of shops and traffic on Zhongshan Road, through Tajonera's humble first-floor Catholic chapel, and up the stairs. She, too, was afraid to talk, and asked to be called "Claire."

She sat on a couch on the second floor, with Tajonera beside her. Then she described the deal with the devil she made to work in Taiwan.

First, she had to pay a 50,000 pesos ($1,050) "placement fee" in the Philippines. She borrowed half that. The limit for such fees should be about $550 under Taiwan regulations.

The young woman then handed over her passport to her broker, who still has it in "safe keeping." Now, she works the 8 p.m. to 5 a.m. graveyard shift at the high-tech firm Wintek. She makes Taiwan's minimum wage, $550 per month.

But in the first year, her take-home salary was just $300, after taxes and deductions for her monthly brokers' fee, dorm fee and "forced savings.” The latter is a practice by which brokers keep part of a worker's salary in hock until their contract is finished.

Southeast Asian migrant workers like Claire pay huge fees to brokers and take out crippling loans for a job in one of Taiwan's high-tech parks. They're here for three-year stints on the floors of factories churning out parts for cell phones, printers, scanners and other gadgets.

They'll clock as many hours as possible, to send money to the families they've left behind in the Philippines. During their off-hours, they sleep six or seven to a room in soulless dorms in or near the industrial parks.

A proud “breadwinner”

The Wintek factory where Claire works is one of the world's top suppliers of handset panels. It supplies Finland's Nokia. It also makes panels for Motorola and Apple, possibly including iPod Touch panels and iPhone panels, according to current and former employees, labor activists and industry analysts.

In recent months the firm has also been mentioned by Taiwan's Commercial Times, Dow Jones and other media as a possible supplier of touch screens for Apple's much-hyped, supposedly forthcoming "iTablet" gadget.

Motorola declined to comment. Neither Wintek nor Apple will confirm the two companies' business ties, citing confidentiality. Current and former workers say it's common knowledge that Apple is a customer, but describe a secretive process in which components are shipped with no logos, and not directly to Apple.

Three other Filipina migrant workers at Wintek reported placement fees, deductions, passport "safe-keeping" and "forced savings" similar to Claire's. Seven migrant workers at other firms in the same export zone reported to GlobalPost placement fees from $945 to $1,675.

All the fees, loans and salary deductions can add up to more than a year's wages, making Taiwan's foreign workers' scheme a modern-day form of indentured servitude.

Economic conditions in the Philippines are so bleak that thousands gladly accept such arrangements. In three years they can still make more than they could back home — provided they complete their full contract.

"I could find a job there [in the Philippines] but it can't meet my family's needs," said Claire. "I'm happy here, because I can help my family. I'm a breadwinner."

Moreover, she says she has little stomach for fighting her company or broker. "A lot of us would really like to make a protest, but I don't have any support," she said, shyly. "In my case, we're only 50 workers [in her unit]. How can I be sure all of us want what I want?"

Asked if Apple had a vested interest in exploited migrant workers like her, Claire answered quickly, "Yes, because when their suppliers hire foreign workers they can make more money.”

Aware of the problem

In its most recent report, Apple itself fretted about the treatment of migrant workers.

"We learned that some of our suppliers work with third-party labor agencies to source workers from other countries. These agencies, in turn, work through multiple sub-agencies — both in the hiring country and the worker's home country — in some cases, all the way back to recruiters in the workers' home village."

"By the time the worker has paid each agency, the total fees may be equivalent to many month's wages and exceed legal limits,” the report states.

Apple said it had made such practices a "core violation," its most serious. The firm said it had forced its suppliers to return to workers $852,000 in illegal placement fees, but did not name or locate those suppliers.

Tajonera said average placement fees are equivalent to 10 months' salary. He said it's hard to get labor regulations enforced because workers are afraid to put their jobs at risk.

That's where a high-profile customer like Apple can make a difference, critics say.

"If the workers knew Apple was on their side, they would pursue justice," said Tajonera. "Only Apple can bend the knee of a corporation and say, 'If you don't do it this way, we won't do business with you.'"

"I know they have this corporate responsibility code, but the problem is, it's not being implemented," he said. "There's no follow-up. It's like handing them [Apple's suppliers] a piece of paper saying 'do this,' but then that's it."

Technically, migrant workers like Claire are employees of the labor broker, not Wintek.

But Apple now requires that suppliers "take responsibility for the entire recruitment process, including the recruitment practices and fees of labor agencies in the workers' home countries," according to its latest report. Pointing to those new rules, Apple spokesperson Jill Tan said, "We've developed an industry-leading position on recruitment practices."

Wintek declined to comment on specific allegations involving Filipino migrant workers at its factories. "We have little to comment on things regarding specific customer’s supplier code of conduct,” Wintek vice president James Chen said in an email.

"The activities of each company in the Wintek Group are conducted in accordance with local laws and regulations," he added.

First to be fired

Tajonera, the Catholic priest who ministers to migrants, said that workers are easily intimidated if they complain alone or in small groups. And when times are good, there's little incentive for them to rock the boat.

But in a global economic crisis, such workers are the first to get downsized. And they find out how few rights they really have.

According to the NGO Migrante, more than 6,800 Filipinos have been laid off by firms in Taiwan and sent home since last November. Most worked at electronics firms. Some workers were given only a few hours' notice before being taken to the airport, Migrante says. Some 600 of those even had to pay for their own plane tickets home.

"In Asia, the economic crisis was experienced by migrant workers first," said Migrante chairperson Garry Martinez, in a phone interview from the Philippines.

In the export zone where Tajonera ministers, the layoffs came just before the start of the traditional pre-Christmas "novena" mass. "I called it the Exodus," said Father Joy. "Our Mass used to have 700 to 800 people — all of the sudden it was half that. All of us were caught off guard."

At the Wintek factory during that period, at least 550 Filipina workers were let go, said Claire. Most of her co-workers left voluntarily, she said, and returned to the Philippines. "They [the company] told people, if you resign now, you will be the first to be rehired," she said. "But there's been no re-hiring."

In a September telephone interview from the Philippines, a 30-year-old former migrant worker in Taiwan told another typical tale. She asked to be called "Catherine,” saying she did not want to give her real name because she's in the midst of legal proceedings.

Catherine paid brokers a $2,130 "placement fee" for arranging work in Taiwan. She had to borrow almost half that.

She started work last July at Sintek Photronic, doing quality control. "My work was OK," said Catherine. Sintek makes touch panels, and color filters that are used in computer monitors.

When the recession hit demand for such computer monitors in the U.S. and other markets, the shock reverberated down the supply chain, all the way to the factory floor where Catherine worked.

In the first week of November, she and other workers were told that plane tickets back to the Philippines had been arranged. They had to leave. On Nov. 26, 2008, Catherine came home — jobless, leaving her husband (a fellow migrant worker) behind in Taiwan, and with no way to pay off a pile of debt.

She got back $180 that had been deducted and stashed away for her as "forced savings." And she received an additional $160 in severance pay. That didn't help much. Catherine said she owed her lenders $1,640, including interest.

Sintek said in an email that it is not involved in migrant workers' fees to labor brokers, and that migrant workers agreed in writing to monthly salary transfers to savings accounts. Sintek said that severance pay for foreign workers dismissed late last year was calculated in consultation with the Taiwan labor ministry and the Philippines representative office in Taiwan, and that workers agreed in writing to the payments.

Now, Catherine says her only hope of paying off her debt is if she wins a suit against her Filipino employment agency, demanding payment for the remainder of her two-year contract and return of part of the exorbitant placement fee.

"Before I went to Taiwan, I dreamed of a good future," said Catherine. "But when I came home, I came home with nothing."

Next in the series: "Disposable Workers"

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Silicon Sweatshops, Introduction

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