“National Security is Often Used as an Excuse”:
Amnesty’s E-Ling Chiu on Taiwan’s Stalled Human Rights Reforms

by Antonio Prokscha

語言:
English
Photo Credit: Amnesty International Taiwan/Facebook

Taiwan is often celebrated as one of Asia’s most vibrant democracies. Yet behind its progressive image, death penalty, stalled refugee protections, and labor exploitation tell a more complicated story — one where human rights remain negotiable when national security is invoked.

WHEN HUANG LIN-KAI was executed on the night of 16 January 2025, it marked Taiwan’s first execution in five years. The Justice Ministry carried out the sentence by shooting at the Taipei Detention Center, following his conviction in 2017 for rape and murder of his ex-girlfriend and her mother.

The reaction was swift and harsh. Amnesty International called it a “shameful setback”, while the European Union urged Taiwan “pursue a consistent policy towards the full abolition of the death penalty”.

That execution did more than revive old debates. It exposed a fault line in Taiwan’s human rights record, and raised urgent questions about how security, law, and promised reforms are being handled in practice.

“It was very confusing,” says E-Ling Chiu, National Director of Amnesty International Taiwan. “The Constitutional Court had already pointed out serious failures in the criminal system that should have been fixed before any execution. But instead, they went ahead.”

For Chiu, the case exposed deeper flaws. “There are two more death row prisoners at the moment. They were sentenced without direct evidence, only confessions. If someone can be executed without solid proof, it means the government can take a life away without clear reasoning.”

A Missing Refugee Law

THE CONTRADICTIONS in Taiwan’s human rights record go beyond its use of the death penalty. Despite being praised for its openness, the country still fails to protect the rights of some of its most marginalised people, including refugees, migrant workers and sexual minorities.

Perhaps the clearest example is Taiwan’s lack of a refugee law. After years of debate and repeated promises, the government still hasn’t passed legislation to grant asylum seekers basic rights and protection.

“They’ve postponed the refugee bill for decades,” Chiu says. “The government always uses national security as an excuse to block it.”

She argues that this excuse has real human consequences. For instance, currently over 30 asylum seekers from Myanmar have been stuck in bureaucratic limbo for more than a year. They cannot legally work, access healthcare or rent housing without fear of arrest. Without legal status, many are forced to work illegally, risking arrest and deportation. “What is happening in Taiwan right now is making all these refugees suffer human rights violations all over again – this time in Taiwan,” says Chiu.

While authorities cite national security concerns, Chiu sees a different motive. “We believe the real reason might be the global trend of anti-migration and anti-refugee sentiment,” she says. “But because the Taiwanese government wants to appear democratic and pro–human rights, it uses national security as a fake excuse.”

Migrant Workers: The Hidden Backbone

THE SAME REASONING applies to another much larger section of the population: migrant workers. Taiwan’s economy depends on migrant workers in caregiving roles, in factories, and in the distant-water fishing fleet. Yet many of these workers remain excluded from labour protections enjoyed by Taiwanese citizens.

“Caregivers and fishermen often sign contracts abroad, so they fall outside our labor laws,” Chiu notes. “In some cases, even when their ships dock in Taiwan, foreign fishermen are not allowed to go on land.”

Abuse and exploitation remain widespread. Reports of wage theft, violence, and even deaths at sea have surfaced repeatedly, but oversight remains weak. For Chiu, this points to a deeper unwillingness to confront structural injustice.

The AI Dilemma

NEW TECHNOLOGIES add further risks for human rights. Taiwan’s forthcoming Artificial Intelligence Law, Chiu warns, is “broad and vague”.

“We can already see both the private and public sectors considering to use AI in their daily work, even in law enforcement,” she says. “We are asking the government to clearly define situations in which the use of AI should be forbidden.”

Without strong safeguards, she fears AI could become another tool for surveillance and discrimination, echoing issues seen within social welfare and border control in other countries.

Incomplete Equality for Same-Sex Couples

IN 2019, Taiwan made global headlines by becoming the first country in Asia to legalize same-sex marriage. But for many, equality remains elusive, especially for transnational couples.

“Couples from different countries can register their marriage even if one partner’s home country doesn’t recognize same-sex marriage – except when that country is China,” says Chiu.

Here, geopolitics intrudes into private life. Taiwanese-Chinese same-sex couples cannot marry under China’s laws and must first wed in a third country before registering their marriage in Taiwan.

“You still see that many human rights issues are entangled with national security,” Chiu explained. “They’ll say, ‘we need to be careful about Chinese people,’ but then that logic spills over into other issues.”

Security vs. civil liberties

FROM ASYLUM POLICY to marriage rights, national security has become the reflexive answer to many rights-related challenges in Taiwan. The threat from China looms large, but Chiu believes the greater danger lies within.

“Taiwan always says it’s a democracy, more free and open than China,” she said. “But if you keep using national security as a shield, you’ll end up undermining the very human rights you claim to protect.”

It is a delicate balance. Yet, Chiu argues, the real danger lies not in outside aggression, but in how fear quietly reshapes the values Taiwan once fought to reclaim.

Access to government for civil society remains uneven. Officials are open to dialogue on certain topics – such as climate change or digital policy – but avoid “sensitive” ones like the death penalty, refugees, or foreign affairs like the war in Gaza. “We’ve requested meetings with ministries and often get no response,” Chiu says.

A Society That Values Human Rights

DESPITE THIS, Chiu remains hopeful. “Many Taiwanese people deeply believe in human rights. It’s part of what makes Taiwan different from China,” she says.

That awareness is also rooted in the country’s authoritarian past. “Because Taiwan went through a very long-term martial law period, people who lived in that time can understand why human rights and freedom are important. In the past, we didn’t enjoy any freedom of press or expression. One could easily be sentenced to death or force disappeared if you support something or you criticize the government.”

Still, she worries about the political climate. “You can see a political force against human rights,” Chiu says. “Our society is diverse, and some voices are against values like equality.”

For her, the government’s role is decisive. “It’s important for any government to be clear about what values it wants to pursue and uphold,” she says. “Sometimes I’m afraid the Taiwanese government is shifting in this. The anti-rights discourse is often perceived louder than it really is, but if leaders start to follow that noise, Taiwan risks forgetting what made it a democracy in the first place.”