Sworn in for his second term, President Chen Shui-bian (
Chen, however, is too cautious and too mindful of the strong advice from Taiwan's closest ally, the US, to move openly toward independence. Instead, he has inched crabwise in this direction, gradually dropping references to the ROC and allowing Taiwan to appropriate all the trappings of an independent state.
China is not having any of this. Its position is that Taiwan is a province of China, and that neither Chen nor the Taiwanese people have any right to change this: they're not very big on democratic theory in Beijing. Although China often accused former president Lee Teng-hui (
For his second term, Chen has set himself the ambitious task of revising the Constitution. This will be an exercise fraught with danger. If a new constitution abandons the name ROC and defines the national territory as the island of Taiwan, this will be a declaration of independence, as China understands perfectly well.
In the run-up to the inauguration, China deployed its usual mixture of threats and inducements to influence public opinion in Taiwan. If Taiwan's leaders should move towards independence, Beijing said last week, "the Chinese people will crush their schemes firmly and thoroughly at any cost." Since China has over 500 missiles targeting Taiwan, this is not an idle threat.
On the other hand, Beijing says, if Taiwan will only acknow-ledge that "there is only one China in the world" and that "both the mainland and Taiwan belong to one and the same China," then all sorts of concessions might be possible. These could include "formal ending of the state of hostility through equal-footed consultations, establishing a mechanism of mutual trust in the military field and jointly building a framework for peaceful, stable and growing cross-strait relations."
There are three problems with these honeyed words. The first is that, in the 55 years since the People's Republic of China was founded, the people of Taiwan have grown less Chinese and more Taiwanese. There was always a separatist strain in Taiwan, but since the establishment of democracy the feeling of difference has grown greater. The people mostly speak Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwan-ese), not Mandarin, and even the children of the refugees who came from China in 1949 think of themselves as Taiwanese. They are less and less interested in unification with China.
The second problem is that Taiwan is no longer the country the Beijing leadership thinks it is. The most striking feature of this year's presidential election was that, despite the acrimony over the close result, the issue was referred to the High Court, where it is close to being settled. This shows that Taiwan is not just a democracy but a mature democracy that accepts the rule of law. This culture is alien to the corrupt authoritarianism of China, a country which, for all its economic advances, is still basically ruled by force and fear.
The third problem is that China has a proven record of bad faith. Before the British withdrawal from Hong Kong, China made the same sort of promises it is now making to Taiwan, under the slogan "one country, two systems." But since the handover, China has imposed authoritarian rule in Hong Kong by the same tactics that the communists used to take over Poland and Hungary after World War II. China has broken its promise, enshrined in the Basic Law, to allow the people to elect a fully democratic legislature and to choose their own head of government.
All these circumstances make it unlikely that the Taiwanese will ever agree to unify with China on any terms, and certainly not on the terms of Beijing's one-party regime. The democratic parties in Taiwan might move onto the front foot by advising their would-be overlords that while there will not be any overt moves toward independence, international and Taiwanese concerns would be eased if China adopted less hard-line attitudes toward Tibet and Hong Kong, ceased its rapid military growth that especially targets the Taiwan Strait, and released millions of prisoners from the laogai (勞改, the Chinese gulag).
Taiwan cannot become a globally recognized sovereign state despite having one of the world's leading economies. Led by the US, the international community, including Australia, does not want a fight with Beijing over an issue close to the hearts of nationalists at a time when the West is involved in Iraq and the war against terrorism.
This is why the US has been forcefully advising Chen not to declare Taiwan's independence -- not that he has any immediate intention to do so -- and also advising him not to include any wording in the new constitution that could be seen to be implying a declaration of independence. It is also useful advice at a time of economic revival that Taiwan buy defense technology such as advanced anti-missile radar and jet fighters.
With its third free presidential election, there is increasing goodwill toward Taiwan, which has proved that democracy is not inconsistent with a Chinese republic. Taiwan would be well-advised to cool it for the moment, while it continues to build up international goodwill.
Michael Danby is a Labor member of the Australian House of Representatives. He was part of an Australian delegation that attended Chen's inauguration on Thursday.
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,
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