The Department of Health (DOH) recently ran a newspaper advertisement reading, "SARS and commie spies both come from China, but with a concerted effort by the whole nation, there is actually far less SARS than commies." At first glance, this ad seems like a relic from another era, as though Taiwan had reverted to the period of martial law when "commie spies could be right next to you: Look out!" Following the spread of SARS, the Ministry of the Interior's Department of Police and its Labor Affairs Commission have both rushed to adopt measures aimed at controlling such figures as Vietnamese brides, Chinese brides, foreign laborers and illegal immigrants. The equation between pathology and foreign labor has become so ubiquitous in Taiwan that no one seems to notice. When "warding off disease" is linked to "warding off spies [commies]," however, controversy ensues.
Some legislators have questioned whether DOH Director-General Twu Shiing-jer (涂醒哲) went too far by sensationalizing the matter, but the association between politics and public health measures is, in fact, not at all surprising given the fact that "public health" and "the police" are two key links in the security of society today.
Strictly speaking, although the measures pertaining to martial law were lifted in 1987, our society has never truly emerged from the state of martial law -- a fact that has become particularly salient amid the din and drone of the War on Terror discourse that followed the events of Sept. 11. The war that the US is now waging against Iraq only further highlights the pressing need, apart from opposing the war, to pursue the critique of this ongoing form of martial law. Any given moment of crisis is also a moment of new possibilities. While the US pursues its war in Iraq, how should we, in Taiwan, think about this crisis in a way that moves beyond a geo-political analysis and takes hold of the opportunities for an alternative democratic vision?
Without a doubt, the war has once again highlighted the inherent problems of national construction and the international community. The greater part of the anti-war discourse has focused on: castigating US unilateralism; demanding a return to the UN; and finally proposing the US must prove its rationale for war to the UN Security Council and then respect Security Council resolutions. Precisely at this moment, we need first and foremost to critically examine the phantasm that imagines the UN as it is today to be a forum for democratic practice. The gulf between the UN's organizational structure and the practice of global democracy -- as seen both in the problematic nature of the Security Council structure itself and in the basic fact that the state does not necessarily represent its peoples -- has become visible to all.
Second, the defense of democracy must begin here and now, and the focus must be on, "What kind of restructuring is our society undergoing?" or even more basically, "What kind of society is being formed in the course of the current war on terror?" We should ask what impact the war is having on our "political order" and not just oppose one particular war or emphasize the globalization of the anti-war movement or the need to link up with the rest of the world.
In terms of the development of democratic politics, one of the most obvious impacts has been the series of post-Sept. 11 actions to strengthen measures for security and control in society. If we observe how the media has maintained an air of spellbound fascination in reports about security and the way in which the security issue has shaped political debate (such as in last year's elections in France and Holland), it isn't difficult to see the outline of how the US and Europe limit freedom.
Meanwhile in Taiwan, the mechanism by which the secure society is maintained is through the supposition of internal enemies operating in collusion with external ones -- precisely the same as a virus: unknown, hence omnipresent -- thereby mobilizing the intelligence and security system, as well as the national security discourse, of the former martial law period for the new task of internal security based on identity checks.
In other words, so-called "politics" has already been reduced to "policing" -- inside the nation, on its borders, and on the international scene -- and no matter which kind of police it may be, the goal is always to survey and maintain the "boundaries of order."
Dr. Didier Bigo, a French sociologist studying transnational police structures, has pointed out that the goal of this mechanism is "securidentity" -- primarily (but not solely) aimed at "foreigners" of all sorts. In Taiwan, this includes the registration and confirmation of the identities of foreign laborers and foreign brides, as well as camps set up to manage illegal aliens.
We have seen many different groups and individuals participate in recent anti-war demonstrations. Among them are some who wish to take the anti-war demonstrations as an opportunity to establish a "foreigner's" political alliance. Given Taiwan's political environment, in which the unlimited airtime given to unification-versus-independence discourse only supports the expansion of the security apparatus and excludes/incorporates all other discursive possibilities, an alliance of "foreigners in Taiwan" is irreducibly significant simply because Taiwan's demographics have in fact already become "internationalized." Perhaps the joining together of foreigners can reveal the reductionist violence of the "securidentity" structure. If this political alliance is to remain effective after the war ends, the alliance may have to more fundamentally challenge the distinction between "natives" and "foreigners" (rather than reproduce the logic of "securidentity" and thereby paradoxically share complicity with the existing security system) as well as point out and respond to the problem of distinctions inherent to the construction and maintenance of "foreigners" as such (specifically, that between laowai, i.e., "Westerners," and wailao, i.e., "non-Western labor").
Perhaps the question we should be asking now is not where the boundary between "natives" and "foreigners" lies, but rather, what kind of terrorist order and "securidentity" mechanism delineate and preserve this boundary?
Lin Shu-fen is an assistant professor in the department of political science at Soochow University. Jon Solomon is an assistant professor in the Graduate Institute for Futures Studies at Tamkang University.
Translated by Ethan Harkness
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,
“I compare the Communist Party to my mother,” sings a student at a boarding school in a Tibetan region of China’s Qinghai province. “If faith has a color,” others at a different school sing, “it would surely be Chinese red.” In a major story for the New York Times this month, Chris Buckley wrote about the forced placement of hundreds of thousands of Tibetan children in boarding schools, where many suffer physical and psychological abuse. Separating these children from their families, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) aims to substitute itself for their parents and for their religion. Buckley’s reporting is
As Taiwan’s domestic political crisis deepens, the opposition Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) have proposed gutting the country’s national spending, with steep cuts to the critical foreign and defense ministries. While the blue-white coalition alleges that it is merely responding to voters’ concerns about corruption and mismanagement, of which there certainly has been plenty under Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) and KMT-led governments, the rationales for their proposed spending cuts lay bare the incoherent foreign policy of the KMT-led coalition. Introduced on the eve of US President Donald Trump’s inauguration, the KMT’s proposed budget is a terrible opening
Last week, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), together holding more than half of the legislative seats, cut about NT$94 billion (US$2.85 billion) from the yearly budget. The cuts include 60 percent of the government’s advertising budget, 10 percent of administrative expenses, 3 percent of the military budget, and 60 percent of the international travel, overseas education and training allowances. In addition, the two parties have proposed freezing the budgets of many ministries and departments, including NT$1.8 billion from the Ministry of National Defense’s Indigenous Defense Submarine program — 90 percent of the program’s proposed
RSS