The prosecution of Taiwan's former president, Chen Shui-bian, for embezzlement, receiving bribes, money laundering and other offences has produced the most spectacular trial in the island's history. It is more famous than the Kuomintang government's 1980 prosecution of the 'Kaohsiung Eight' for Taiwan independence activities or its 1985 prosecution of its own military intelligence officials and their gangster henchmen for the assassination in San Francisco of Chinese-American journalist Henry Liu.
The case against Chen and many family members and associates is a landmark for many reasons. It is a major blow against the massive corruption and secret political donations that have plagued Taiwan's vibrant young democracy.
It is not a political vendetta by the newly installed government of President Ma Ying-jeou against the defeated opposition but a monumental demonstration that no one is above the law - not even a president. It reflects popular revulsion and disillusionment over the misconduct of the former leader of the Democratic Progressive Party, which had long courageously campaigned against KMT dictatorship and corruption.
Yet the case also illustrates the shortcomings of a legal system in transition that has only recently made great, but imperfect, progress towards democracy, judicial independence and government under law.
The life sentences meted out to Chen and his wife last Friday after a long investigation and trial merely mark the end of the first act of what will, inevitably, be an extended drama. It is a personal and political tragedy in which none of the official players, not to mention the many defendants wallowing in 'money politics', deserves to take a bow.
Although prosecutors made prodigious efforts to cope with a myriad of complex, secret financial transactions and a large number of elusive witnesses, suspects and defendants, they stained their record in several respects. Overzealous attempts to keep Chen detained, persistent leaks of confidential information to the media, and a rogue prosecutor's clandestine contacts with Chen, all detracted from their seriousness. Unbelievably, prosecutors celebrated 'Law Day' with a 'skit' that mocked their detained ex-president for protesting against the unnecessary humiliation of being handcuffed.
Instead of denouncing this blatant violation of legal ethics when it became public, the minister of justice, who attended the Law Day event, sought to defend it, evoking not a word of criticism from anyone in government.