Before people even had a chance to get over their shock and disbelief about the Chung Shan Institute of Science and Technology (CSIST) espionage case which made headlines last week, patrol boats of Taiwan's Coast Guard Administration and a suspected Chinese spy ship had the most volatile rendezvous in recent years. Although, in the end, there was no confrontation, it serves as a stunning reminder to the rest of us -- despite all the illusions of safety that may have been created by the busy and friendly cross-strait private economic and cultural contacts -- that there is a dangerous undertow beneath the surface caused by political rivalry.
It certainly was not the first time that suspected Chinese spy ships had openly entered Taiwan's territorial waters. Since April and May of this year, a number of them had approached dangerously close to the eastern and southern coast of Taiwan at least a dozen times. In fact, Xiangyanghong 14, the Chinese ship claiming to be conducting oceanographic research when approached by coast guard vessels on Wednesday, had previously intruded into Taiwan's 20km Exclusive Economic Zone. The stunt shook the Ministry of Nation Defense strategists to the bone, since it revealed a lethal blind spot in the radar-detection range of the Taiwan military near Orchid Island.
In the past, the military had typically resorted to passively monitoring the activities of these suspected spy ships from both the air and sea. This was obviously because these ships all claimed to be conducting legitimate oceanographic research, and because Taipei remains ambiguous regarding the sensitive issue about the delineation of its territorial waters. Of course, there is also the danger of being yanked into the depths of a cross-strait military clash.
However, this time around, Taiwan adopted a somewhat tougher stance in dealing with Xiangyanghong 14. For the first time, not only did the coast guard put the Chinese ship under close surveillance, but actually attempted to board the ship for inspection before it finally left. This subtle change in attitude by the military reflects the emergence of a new awakening about how safe the cross-strait relationship is -- an attitude prompted in part by the CSIST case.
Ironically, while this may be a new realization for some people in Taiwan, Beijing has never had any misconception about what Taiwan is to China -- a renegade province that must be disciplined into submission, even if the use of force is necessary.
A most clear indication of what Beijing thinks about the cross-strait relationship is the ongoing "spy war" in which Taiwanese businessmen are playing increasingly prominent roles. On the one hand, the Chinese authorities recruit them to spy in Taiwan; and on the other hand, they have become Beijing's main targets for investigations on the suspicion of spying on China.
To Beijing, another group of potential spies working for Taiwan are Taiwanese scholars and ethnic Chinese scholars engaging in research activities in China. The most obvious example is the US-based democracy activist and Chinese scholar Yang Jianli (
It is only at times like these that you can feel the pull toward actual confrontation -- the last thing that Taiwan wants. Reading the warning signs is essential to effective self-defense and survival. All we need to do is read the sign on the beach of which China already is certainly aware: "Beware -- dangerous undertow."
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
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,
RSS