Chen Shuibian’s reputation for battling corruption is in tatters now that prosecutors say the island’s former leader was a thief.
Xu Heqian and Wu Peng, Caijing 9 January 2009
Chen Shuibian spent New Year’s Eve in jail, exhausted after a 12-hour hearing in court.
A half-year earlier, Chen had been the leader of Taiwan. Lauded as a charismatic orator and political risk-taker, he was once considered one of the island’s most outspoken fighters against corruption.
Chen had been in court before. Three decades earlier, he was a defense lawyer for a handful of political dissidents who tried to break one-party rule and encourage a budding democracy. He went to jail, and was hailed as a hero.
In December, Chen returned to court – and jail – in a less heroic role. He was indicted with 13 relatives and cronies. They’re accused of sundry crimes – money laundering, corruption, bribery, abuse of power and forging government documents – allegedly committed while Chen’s administration ruled the island between 2000 and last spring.
Taiwanese see the case as a first legal attack against Chen, who spent his final two years in office hounded by a campaign to topple and bring him to justice. After he lost power as well as executive privilege in May, prosecutors moved in with a 200-page complaint claiming Chen had illegally pocketed NT$ 787 million.
Chen’s personal future seems bleak. But the case raises hopes for the future of judicial independence in Taiwan and the self-healing capacity of the political system Chen helped build.
Political Attraction
A self-made hero, Chen escaped adversity by working hard. To many Taiwanese, his life story reflected their personal and collective success. They called him, affectionately, A-bian.
Chen’s rise to power testified to his tenacity and audacity. Born to poor parents, he clawed his way into Taiwan’s top university, studying business management at Taiwan University. But he became bored with the idea of working as a professional “who would spend his life earning money and managing other people’s firms,” he wrote in his autobiography.
Chen’s interest in politics was piqued by the democracy movement in Taiwan in 1969. He sat in the audience during a campaign speech by Huang Hsin-chieh – later a founder of Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) – and was fascinated. He liked the game and dropped out of school immediately. He later re-entered university to pursue a law degree, passed the bar exam in 1973 and spent the next few years practicing maritime law. He lived comfortably and married the daughter of a well-known physician.
A turning point came in 1979, when the editorial board of the dissident magazine Beautiful Island organized a conference in Kaosiung to celebrate the International Day of Human Rights. Participants clashed with police and members of the ruling party, the Kuomintang (KMT). Dissidents were arrested and charged with treason.
Chen wrote in his autobiography that he was invited to serve as the defendants’ trial lawyer. His wife, Wu Shuzhen, encouraged him by calling the case “historical” and adding, “You will be a useless lawyer if you dare not put your mark on this case.”
Chen and his clients lost the trial. But the experience opened a political door for this young, ambitious lawyer.
Chen was elected a Taipei city council member in 1981, and three years later became chairman of Penglai Magazine, whose goal was to fight for “100 percent press freedom.” Chen resigned from the council in 1985 and campaigned for a post in Tainan County. He lost the election and, the next day, his wife lost her legs in a car accident.
A critical piece in Penglai in 1986 led to a libel conviction and an eight-month jail sentence for Chen. Time behind bars gave him a golden chance to build an image as a freedom fighter. Wu, as the wife of a persecuted public figure, was elected to the island’s legislature.
Once freed, Chen joined DPP in 1987 and became a maverick politician, criticizing misdeeds of the military. He reached a new career peak in 1994 by defeating KMT and New Party candidates to become mayor of Taipei.
Although he lost a mayoral re-election bid to Ma Ying-jeou in 1998, Chen political stardom carried him to the “presidential” election in 2000 as the DPP candidate. He narrowly won, and managed to win again by a thin margin four years later, allowing him to rule Taiwan for eight years.
But Chen’s halo gradually dimmed. His former mentor, Shih Ming-te, organized a massive protest against the leader in 2006. The legislature voted to impeach him three times, and his wife was put on trial for alleged bribery.
Now, the halo has been replaced by a grim sense of shame.
DPP Mastermind
Yet Chen is still considered the mastermind of the DPP. A portrait of him and the former “vice president,” Annette Lu, hangs on the wall of headquarters on Beiping Dong Road in Taipei.
Despite Chen’s election victories “DPP has never really ruled,” said Nanfang Shuo, a Taiwanese political commentator. “They adopted KMT’s damaged image and copied KMT’s administrative practices.”
Chen’s strategy for winning the 2000 election included a push for clean politics. He distinguished himself from the then-ruling KMT, which was laden with controversies over “black money,” including bribes and misused public funds. Green was picked as the color of DPP’s flag to demonstrate a resolve for integrity.
The rhetoric was reinforced by a series of steps taken after the party came to power. The justice minister, Chen Ding-nan, said a black money clean-up was his priority, and government officials opened an action center dedicated to investigating illegal financing. Ironically, this center and other measures initiated by Chen’s administration contributed to the probe that brought him down.
While advocating clean politics, Chen apparently wasted no time building a private cash reserve. One major allegation against him was the use of a secretive “national affairs fund” – a separate fund that could be spent for visiting, rewarding and accommodating guests. Several months after his inauguration, Chen stashed the rest of the fund – NT$ 11.36 million in cash – at home.
Prosecutors called it brazen embezzlement. Money from the fund could be disbursed with nothing more than a signature of Chen. According to the complaint filed in December by special investigators, Chen and his wife embezzled NT$ 140 million during his eight years in power.
Executive Privilege
Chen’s administration enjoyed nearly absolute power. He was allowed to appoint the cabinet chief, while DPP held most seats in the legislature. Gray areas of governmental affairs were shielded from public scrutiny.
Some new policies provided clear opportunities for graft. Chen pushed for financial reform in 2004 that encouraged consolidation in the financial industry, prompting major business families to curry favor with Chen, sometimes slipping him cash through a back door.
Jeffrey Koo, chairman of Chinatrust Financial Holding Co., admitted giving ND$ 340 million to Chen’s wife in exchange of his support for several business transactions, including the acquisition of government-controlled China Development Financial Holding Corp. and the purchase of a stake in government-linked Mega Holdings.
Chen also exploited a legal vacuum for political financing. Prosecutors say he tried to label bribes as political donations before Taiwan’s first law regulating political gift money passed in 2004, which ended an era of unchecked political donations.
Chen used power and money to become the uncontested leader of once-divided DPP. Even after he was taken into custody in December 2008, current party Chairman Tsai Ing-wen told the media Chen remained an inseparable link in the party chain.
“He led us for eight years and is part of our history,” said Tsai. “We accept what he accomplished for DPP as well as the political burden that ensued. There is no separation.”
Under Chen, DPP rose to new heights of influence. Its members made a lot of money. But when a public spotlight focused on charges against Chen, DPP members started distancing themselves from the leader. They again shrank back after his daughter asked the media “didn’t Frank Hsieh, Su Tseng-chang, and Chen Chu (all senior DPP members) pocket money as well?”
“DPP has become a (Chen) loyalist party,” said Chen Fang-ming, DPP’s former publicity director. “That’s the saddest tragedy for Taiwan’s democracy.”
Cracks in the Wall
The first major crack in Chen’s reputation appeared in 2004 after Chen Yu-hao, a Taiwan businessman and one of the island’s 10 ten most wanted fugitives, declared he had visited the leader’s home in 1994 and 2000 to donate a total NT$ 6 million. The news came from overseas, since Chen Yu-hao fled Taiwan in 2003 and has since lived in the United States or the Chinese mainland.
At the time, Chen was busy with a re-election campaign. The allegations soon faded without an investigation, but the island was shaken. A piece of Chen’s secret financial kingdom had been exposed. And for the next four years, the media and dissident KMT members continued probing to gradually reveal a massive web of graft woven by the Chen family.
Time and again, KMT members or other sources sent letters to the media and law enforcement officials exposing scandalous elements. The media and police followed the leads.
Allegations led to the 2005 conviction of the deputy secretary general of Chen’s, who received 12 years in jail. Chen’s wife became the center of attention in late 2005. She was accused of insider stock trading and illegally accepting coupons from department stores. And in 2006, Chen’s son-in-law and father were convicted of insider trading, receiving seven- and nine-year terms, respectively.
Chen found himself in the bulls-eye in summer 2006 after Li Hui-fen, a Taiwanese woman, said her relatives once collected phony receipts for Chen’s wife. A month later, KMT legislator Qiu Yi showed the media copies of eight phony receipts, worth a total NT$ 700,000, and claimed Chen’s wife used them to disburse the “national affairs fund.”
Official accountants started probing the allegations. Chief accountant Su Chen-ping was put in charge. As an official appointed by Chen, Su insisted on a thorough investigation, declaring, “I’m loyal to my duty, not Chen Shui-bian.”
The Su report, apparently toned down due to political pressure, was released in late July. It said 77 percent of the NT$ 36 million worth of “national affairs” money spent – all with Chen’s approval – had either no or phony receipts.
Su handed the results to a Supreme Court task force, marking the formal start of the Chen investigation.
People Power
Pressure mounted. A non-violent protest outside Chen’s office was organized by former DPP leader Shih Ming-te, a defendant in Chen’s Beautiful Island trial who spent 25 years in jail. Hundreds of thousands of protesters staged a sit-in three days after Shih wrote a letter urging Chen to admit mistakes and resign. The letter went unanswered.
The anti-Chen movement received about NT$ 100 million in donations. Shih travelled across the island to gather supporters for a more forceful protest. It happened October 10, filling Taipei’s streets with a sea of red-shirted demonstrators.
Chen seemed unaffected. Later, the media reported Chen was fully prepared to flee, having prepared a map and arrangements with a confidant who would transfer NT$ 740 million in cash to a secret account.
Shih stressed the peaceful nature of the movement, showing respect for the impeachment procedure and his confidence in Taiwan’s political system.
After the red-shirted protesters returned home, prosecutors got busy untangling the “national affairs fund” scandal and preparing for a lawsuit. Chief Prosecutor Eric Chen, a man of integrity, took charge. A graduate of Taiwan University, he was an early DPP supporter who advocated prosecutor reform and campaigned for years for a judicial system clean-up. So strong was his dedication to the task that, in 2000, he rejected a promotion that would have made him chief prosecutor of the Shi-lin area.
Taiwan’s system protects prosecutors from political influence. Prosecutors are tenured, and their work is reviewed by an independent personnel committee beyond political reach. There is also consensus among Taiwanese that prosecutors should work independently, free from administrative interference.
A four-month investigation headed by Eric Chen ended in November 2006 with a 28-page complaint charging Wu with receiving NT$ 1.48 million through forged documents and receipts. It also charged four others with corruption, as well as forgery of documents and evidence.
Wu tried to explain away the accusations. But Eric Chen countered the explanations 14 times in the complaint with the same question: “How is that possible?”
In the formal complaint, the prosecutor called Chen a conspirator. But due to executive privilege, the prosecution had to wait until Chen left office, forcibly or not.
A local court in Taipei heard Wu’s case December 15, 2006. But she collapsed, and later refused to appear 18 times. The trial is still pending.
An impeachment, launched by KMT legislators, paralleled the trial. They needed a “yes” vote from two-thirds of Taiwan’s legislators and a majority in a voter referendum. The legislature voted to impeach Chen three times in 2006, but each attempt was blocked by DPP members, since not a single DPP legislator showed up to vote.
The manoeuvring temporarily saved Chen but cost DPP dearly. Over the next few years, KMT easily won the legislative and local government elections, and eventually the election that replaced Chen.
After Chen lost his executive privilege May 20, investigators moved in. The defendant was summoned five times before being taken into custody November 12.
Some early warning signs had gone unheeded. Twice during Chen’s term, money laundering warnings from the Egmont Group of Financial Intelligence Units were sent to the head of Taiwan’s intelligence office, Yeh Sheng-mao. But Yeh, a close associate of the leader, shelved the reports and leaked the information to Chen.
Yeh was arrested and convicted of abusing the authority of his office for private benefit, of revealing secrets, of concealing official documents, and of forgery, eventually receiving a 10-year sentence December 4.
In addition, it was revealed in August that Swiss investigators had notified the Taiwanese government that Chen’s daughter-in-law may have been involved in money laundering. She had four Swiss bank accounts containing more than NT$ 930 million.
Hours after news of the Swiss notification, Chen admitted to having US$ 21 million in overseas accounts. He also acknowledged fictitious campaign fund reports, but blamed his wife, saying Wu had transferred the money overseas without his knowledge.
Chen quit DPP on August 15, a day after the Swiss report surfaced. The next day, investigators found a computer disk held by Chen’s accountant that detailed tens of thousands of money transfers. The disk helped police piece together the money-power puzzle.
Investigators told reporters the web of fraud is as complicated as “a map of the Yangtze River.” They say more than 120 private accounts and phony companies were used to launder money.
1 comment:
Stripped of Halo, Taiwan’s Chen Awaits Fate
Chen Shuibian’s reputation for battling corruption is in tatters now that prosecutors say the island’s former leader was a thief.
Xu Heqian and Wu Peng, Caijing
9 January 2009
Chen Shuibian spent New Year’s Eve in jail, exhausted after a 12-hour hearing in court.
A half-year earlier, Chen had been the leader of Taiwan. Lauded as a charismatic orator and political risk-taker, he was once considered one of the island’s most outspoken fighters against corruption.
Chen had been in court before. Three decades earlier, he was a defense lawyer for a handful of political dissidents who tried to break one-party rule and encourage a budding democracy. He went to jail, and was hailed as a hero.
In December, Chen returned to court – and jail – in a less heroic role. He was indicted with 13 relatives and cronies. They’re accused of sundry crimes – money laundering, corruption, bribery, abuse of power and forging government documents – allegedly committed while Chen’s administration ruled the island between 2000 and last spring.
Taiwanese see the case as a first legal attack against Chen, who spent his final two years in office hounded by a campaign to topple and bring him to justice. After he lost power as well as executive privilege in May, prosecutors moved in with a 200-page complaint claiming Chen had illegally pocketed NT$ 787 million.
Chen’s personal future seems bleak. But the case raises hopes for the future of judicial independence in Taiwan and the self-healing capacity of the political system Chen helped build.
Political Attraction
A self-made hero, Chen escaped adversity by working hard. To many Taiwanese, his life story reflected their personal and collective success. They called him, affectionately, A-bian.
Chen’s rise to power testified to his tenacity and audacity. Born to poor parents, he clawed his way into Taiwan’s top university, studying business management at Taiwan University. But he became bored with the idea of working as a professional “who would spend his life earning money and managing other people’s firms,” he wrote in his autobiography.
Chen’s interest in politics was piqued by the democracy movement in Taiwan in 1969. He sat in the audience during a campaign speech by Huang Hsin-chieh – later a founder of Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) – and was fascinated. He liked the game and dropped out of school immediately. He later re-entered university to pursue a law degree, passed the bar exam in 1973 and spent the next few years practicing maritime law. He lived comfortably and married the daughter of a well-known physician.
A turning point came in 1979, when the editorial board of the dissident magazine Beautiful Island organized a conference in Kaosiung to celebrate the International Day of Human Rights. Participants clashed with police and members of the ruling party, the Kuomintang (KMT). Dissidents were arrested and charged with treason.
Chen wrote in his autobiography that he was invited to serve as the defendants’ trial lawyer. His wife, Wu Shuzhen, encouraged him by calling the case “historical” and adding, “You will be a useless lawyer if you dare not put your mark on this case.”
Chen and his clients lost the trial. But the experience opened a political door for this young, ambitious lawyer.
Chen was elected a Taipei city council member in 1981, and three years later became chairman of Penglai Magazine, whose goal was to fight for “100 percent press freedom.” Chen resigned from the council in 1985 and campaigned for a post in Tainan County. He lost the election and, the next day, his wife lost her legs in a car accident.
A critical piece in Penglai in 1986 led to a libel conviction and an eight-month jail sentence for Chen. Time behind bars gave him a golden chance to build an image as a freedom fighter. Wu, as the wife of a persecuted public figure, was elected to the island’s legislature.
Once freed, Chen joined DPP in 1987 and became a maverick politician, criticizing misdeeds of the military. He reached a new career peak in 1994 by defeating KMT and New Party candidates to become mayor of Taipei.
Although he lost a mayoral re-election bid to Ma Ying-jeou in 1998, Chen political stardom carried him to the “presidential” election in 2000 as the DPP candidate. He narrowly won, and managed to win again by a thin margin four years later, allowing him to rule Taiwan for eight years.
But Chen’s halo gradually dimmed. His former mentor, Shih Ming-te, organized a massive protest against the leader in 2006. The legislature voted to impeach him three times, and his wife was put on trial for alleged bribery.
Now, the halo has been replaced by a grim sense of shame.
DPP Mastermind
Yet Chen is still considered the mastermind of the DPP. A portrait of him and the former “vice president,” Annette Lu, hangs on the wall of headquarters on Beiping Dong Road in Taipei.
Despite Chen’s election victories “DPP has never really ruled,” said Nanfang Shuo, a Taiwanese political commentator. “They adopted KMT’s damaged image and copied KMT’s administrative practices.”
Chen’s strategy for winning the 2000 election included a push for clean politics. He distinguished himself from the then-ruling KMT, which was laden with controversies over “black money,” including bribes and misused public funds. Green was picked as the color of DPP’s flag to demonstrate a resolve for integrity.
The rhetoric was reinforced by a series of steps taken after the party came to power. The justice minister, Chen Ding-nan, said a black money clean-up was his priority, and government officials opened an action center dedicated to investigating illegal financing. Ironically, this center and other measures initiated by Chen’s administration contributed to the probe that brought him down.
While advocating clean politics, Chen apparently wasted no time building a private cash reserve. One major allegation against him was the use of a secretive “national affairs fund” – a separate fund that could be spent for visiting, rewarding and accommodating guests. Several months after his inauguration, Chen stashed the rest of the fund – NT$ 11.36 million in cash – at home.
Prosecutors called it brazen embezzlement. Money from the fund could be disbursed with nothing more than a signature of Chen. According to the complaint filed in December by special investigators, Chen and his wife embezzled NT$ 140 million during his eight years in power.
Executive Privilege
Chen’s administration enjoyed nearly absolute power. He was allowed to appoint the cabinet chief, while DPP held most seats in the legislature. Gray areas of governmental affairs were shielded from public scrutiny.
Some new policies provided clear opportunities for graft. Chen pushed for financial reform in 2004 that encouraged consolidation in the financial industry, prompting major business families to curry favor with Chen, sometimes slipping him cash through a back door.
Jeffrey Koo, chairman of Chinatrust Financial Holding Co., admitted giving ND$ 340 million to Chen’s wife in exchange of his support for several business transactions, including the acquisition of government-controlled China Development Financial Holding Corp. and the purchase of a stake in government-linked Mega Holdings.
Chen also exploited a legal vacuum for political financing. Prosecutors say he tried to label bribes as political donations before Taiwan’s first law regulating political gift money passed in 2004, which ended an era of unchecked political donations.
Chen used power and money to become the uncontested leader of once-divided DPP. Even after he was taken into custody in December 2008, current party Chairman Tsai Ing-wen told the media Chen remained an inseparable link in the party chain.
“He led us for eight years and is part of our history,” said Tsai. “We accept what he accomplished for DPP as well as the political burden that ensued. There is no separation.”
Under Chen, DPP rose to new heights of influence. Its members made a lot of money. But when a public spotlight focused on charges against Chen, DPP members started distancing themselves from the leader. They again shrank back after his daughter asked the media “didn’t Frank Hsieh, Su Tseng-chang, and Chen Chu (all senior DPP members) pocket money as well?”
“DPP has become a (Chen) loyalist party,” said Chen Fang-ming, DPP’s former publicity director. “That’s the saddest tragedy for Taiwan’s democracy.”
Cracks in the Wall
The first major crack in Chen’s reputation appeared in 2004 after Chen Yu-hao, a Taiwan businessman and one of the island’s 10 ten most wanted fugitives, declared he had visited the leader’s home in 1994 and 2000 to donate a total NT$ 6 million. The news came from overseas, since Chen Yu-hao fled Taiwan in 2003 and has since lived in the United States or the Chinese mainland.
At the time, Chen was busy with a re-election campaign. The allegations soon faded without an investigation, but the island was shaken. A piece of Chen’s secret financial kingdom had been exposed. And for the next four years, the media and dissident KMT members continued probing to gradually reveal a massive web of graft woven by the Chen family.
Time and again, KMT members or other sources sent letters to the media and law enforcement officials exposing scandalous elements. The media and police followed the leads.
Allegations led to the 2005 conviction of the deputy secretary general of Chen’s, who received 12 years in jail. Chen’s wife became the center of attention in late 2005. She was accused of insider stock trading and illegally accepting coupons from department stores. And in 2006, Chen’s son-in-law and father were convicted of insider trading, receiving seven- and nine-year terms, respectively.
Chen found himself in the bulls-eye in summer 2006 after Li Hui-fen, a Taiwanese woman, said her relatives once collected phony receipts for Chen’s wife. A month later, KMT legislator Qiu Yi showed the media copies of eight phony receipts, worth a total NT$ 700,000, and claimed Chen’s wife used them to disburse the “national affairs fund.”
Official accountants started probing the allegations. Chief accountant Su Chen-ping was put in charge. As an official appointed by Chen, Su insisted on a thorough investigation, declaring, “I’m loyal to my duty, not Chen Shui-bian.”
The Su report, apparently toned down due to political pressure, was released in late July. It said 77 percent of the NT$ 36 million worth of “national affairs” money spent – all with Chen’s approval – had either no or phony receipts.
Su handed the results to a Supreme Court task force, marking the formal start of the Chen investigation.
People Power
Pressure mounted. A non-violent protest outside Chen’s office was organized by former DPP leader Shih Ming-te, a defendant in Chen’s Beautiful Island trial who spent 25 years in jail. Hundreds of thousands of protesters staged a sit-in three days after Shih wrote a letter urging Chen to admit mistakes and resign. The letter went unanswered.
The anti-Chen movement received about NT$ 100 million in donations. Shih travelled across the island to gather supporters for a more forceful protest. It happened October 10, filling Taipei’s streets with a sea of red-shirted demonstrators.
Chen seemed unaffected. Later, the media reported Chen was fully prepared to flee, having prepared a map and arrangements with a confidant who would transfer NT$ 740 million in cash to a secret account.
Shih stressed the peaceful nature of the movement, showing respect for the impeachment procedure and his confidence in Taiwan’s political system.
After the red-shirted protesters returned home, prosecutors got busy untangling the “national affairs fund” scandal and preparing for a lawsuit. Chief Prosecutor Eric Chen, a man of integrity, took charge. A graduate of Taiwan University, he was an early DPP supporter who advocated prosecutor reform and campaigned for years for a judicial system clean-up. So strong was his dedication to the task that, in 2000, he rejected a promotion that would have made him chief prosecutor of the Shi-lin area.
Taiwan’s system protects prosecutors from political influence. Prosecutors are tenured, and their work is reviewed by an independent personnel committee beyond political reach. There is also consensus among Taiwanese that prosecutors should work independently, free from administrative interference.
A four-month investigation headed by Eric Chen ended in November 2006 with a 28-page complaint charging Wu with receiving NT$ 1.48 million through forged documents and receipts. It also charged four others with corruption, as well as forgery of documents and evidence.
Wu tried to explain away the accusations. But Eric Chen countered the explanations 14 times in the complaint with the same question: “How is that possible?”
In the formal complaint, the prosecutor called Chen a conspirator. But due to executive privilege, the prosecution had to wait until Chen left office, forcibly or not.
A local court in Taipei heard Wu’s case December 15, 2006. But she collapsed, and later refused to appear 18 times. The trial is still pending.
An impeachment, launched by KMT legislators, paralleled the trial. They needed a “yes” vote from two-thirds of Taiwan’s legislators and a majority in a voter referendum. The legislature voted to impeach Chen three times in 2006, but each attempt was blocked by DPP members, since not a single DPP legislator showed up to vote.
The manoeuvring temporarily saved Chen but cost DPP dearly. Over the next few years, KMT easily won the legislative and local government elections, and eventually the election that replaced Chen.
After Chen lost his executive privilege May 20, investigators moved in. The defendant was summoned five times before being taken into custody November 12.
Some early warning signs had gone unheeded. Twice during Chen’s term, money laundering warnings from the Egmont Group of Financial Intelligence Units were sent to the head of Taiwan’s intelligence office, Yeh Sheng-mao. But Yeh, a close associate of the leader, shelved the reports and leaked the information to Chen.
Yeh was arrested and convicted of abusing the authority of his office for private benefit, of revealing secrets, of concealing official documents, and of forgery, eventually receiving a 10-year sentence December 4.
In addition, it was revealed in August that Swiss investigators had notified the Taiwanese government that Chen’s daughter-in-law may have been involved in money laundering. She had four Swiss bank accounts containing more than NT$ 930 million.
Hours after news of the Swiss notification, Chen admitted to having US$ 21 million in overseas accounts. He also acknowledged fictitious campaign fund reports, but blamed his wife, saying Wu had transferred the money overseas without his knowledge.
Chen quit DPP on August 15, a day after the Swiss report surfaced. The next day, investigators found a computer disk held by Chen’s accountant that detailed tens of thousands of money transfers. The disk helped police piece together the money-power puzzle.
Investigators told reporters the web of fraud is as complicated as “a map of the Yangtze River.” They say more than 120 private accounts and phony companies were used to launder money.
Post a Comment