Yesterday the Supreme Court threw out the opposition's case claiming that the March 20 presidential election last year should be deemed invalid because of manipulation of the election by the Democratic Progressive Party, on the basis of there being no evidence to suggest that such manipulation had taken place.
The verdict itself hardly came as a surprise for anyone who paid attention to the original court case and the pan-blue's almost comical attempt to make a case out of nothing more than Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Lien Chan's (
It does not, however, necessarily seem like a better one. Much as people might have worried about the ethnic hostilities whipped up by the pan-blues both in the election and in their attempts to overturn it -- which can be swiftly summarized as Mainlanders refusing to accept their diminished role in Taiwan's power structure -- there seemed at the time a possibility that a Taiwanese nationalism nourished by not only the election campaign but such events as the 228 Hand-in-Hand Rally might change the political environment. It finally seemed that Taiwanese could be the masters in their own country.
That was not to be, of course, the failure of the pan-greens to secure control of the legislature was a shock that left the green reeling while the blues shifted the political agenda by the "selling out" visits of their leaders to China.
Seen in this light, yesterday's verdict serves only to remind us how much we have lost. The nation-building project has not only stalled, but seems to have gone into reverse. The government might point out that their opinion polls tell them that is what the pragmatically minded Taiwanese want -- less emphasis on identity issues and more on the economy. But government is not a consumer-service industry: the customer is not always right.
The task of leadership is to educate people into seeing where their interests lie, and to understand that short-term gains might mean long-term sacrifices and vice versa.
Perhaps no amount of explanation can deter businesspeople from running lemming-like toward China, just as no amount of common sense could warn people off the dot-com bubble in the late 1990s. That does not mean that nobody should try.
Perhaps more importantly we should have some inkling of what the government intends to do when the China bubble bursts. Few developing economies have sustained an economic boom for much longer than 30 years without running into serious problems; China's has lasted 28 and counting.
Last year, for all the controversy surrounding the election and the bitterness of the campaign, there was a feeling that Taiwan might actually be "walking with destiny" to use a Churchillian phrase. Now it seems fated to become an economic colony of China, and if the pan-blues have their way a political colony as well -- such is the fate of Special Administrative Regions of the PRC, as we have seen this week.
After Neville Chamberlain came back from Munich, Winston Churchill said that he had claimed to bring back peace with honor, but in the end Britain would have neither. Taiwanese look to China thinking that by some deft compromise of core values they can have wealth, freedom and peace.
Like the British in 1939, by the time they wake up it will be far too late.
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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