Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou's (
The remark caused me to turn pessimistic about the new discourse, for it suggests that Ma is continuing to make an us-and-them distinction between the KMT and the Taiwanese.
The kind of public discourse that Ma is seeking to establish requires the collective participation of the public, for only by giving it significance and realization can it be established as a social discourse. But the very group that Ma's discourse is aimed at appealing to -- namely those Taiwanese who have rejected the KMT -- are unable to participate in the discourse as it is structured.
The reason is that Taiwanese continue to be regarded as "them" under Ma's formulation, rather than part of "us." Taiwanese remain the object, rather than the subject of the discourse.
While seeking to locate the KMT's link with Taiwan prior to 1945, Ma even spoke of a bottle of whisky that a Taiwanese, who was a victim of the 228 Incident, had received from Sun as a gift. Ma used this to prove that KMT had connections with the local society prior to its arrival in Taiwan in 1945, and that it was therefore not a foreign regime. But this only underlined the fragility of the KMT's historical tie to Taiwanese society.
If the KMT wants to create a truly powerful discourse, it must drop what we call the "KMT's Taiwan discourse," and make Taiwan the subject of the discourse, which would be "Taiwan's KMT discourse." And what would such a discourse be? In a phrase, it would be to accept that "the KMT was once a foreign regime."
The KMT was indeed a foreign regime when it moved to Taiwan between 1945 and 1949. The KMT should acknowledge this. It should respond by saying that this is in the past, and that after the process of localization, it is no longer a foreign regime, nor will it be one in the future. If the KMT's official history had adopted this local perspective, then it could rightly justify saying that the party has blended into Taiwanese society, and the accusation that the KMT is a foreign regime would not have persisted.
Instead, to avoid localizing the party and to negate former president Lee Teng-hui's (
But the problem the KMT currently faces is not whether it was a foreign government back in 1945, but why, 50 years later, it is still accused of being a foreign regime. Ma has provided the wrong answer, and is asking the wrong question. By continuing to emphasize the KMT's historical connection with Taiwan, he has put the party on dangerous ground.
The accusation that the KMT is a foreign political force can easily be deflected by a localization discourse, but instead Ma reveals that the KMT is unable to give up the idea of its primacy in its relationship with Taiwan, needlessly leaving itself open to attack by critics.
As soon as Ma starts talking about the KMT's connections with Taiwan, he unites Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) heavyweights against him. Premier Frank Hsieh (
But looking at the problem from a wider perspective, this ganging up on Ma is a disturbing situation, for it suggests that Ma's KMT discourse could lead to a worsening of relations between ethnic groups with different political orientations.
We can imagine the political debate that will precede the 2008 presidential elections, which will take place in the run-up to the Beijing Olympics. If debate focuses on the KMT's historical role, the place of birth and local associations of each leader, it will split Taiwanese society, and in conjunction with strained relations with Beijing and external pressure, the damage that it could do to Taiwan does not have to spelled out.
Whether Ma is looking after his own interests, those of the KMT or those of the nation, he must understand that his political party discourse should aim at bringing people together.
In other words, Taiwan's political parties should engage in a dialogue that is built on a position of "Taiwan first," seeking consensus rather than closing off from each other by making unilateral declarations intended to appeal to the old guard but which are contrary to the popular will.
To put it even more bluntly, if the two main parties engage in an ideological battle over identity, the KMT will certainly be the loser, and Taiwan's future will be the victim. Ma's discourse is intended to solve the contradictions between the KMT and local society, but instead he is simply giving his enemies a stick to beat him with.
Instead, he should simply accept the localization argument of "Taiwan first" and actively engage the DPP in an effort to achieve rapprochement and cooperation, and build an interparty relationship. As the leader of the main opposition party and a possible presidential candidate, Ma should engage Hsieh in frank and well-intentioned theoretical and policy debate (Hsieh advocates a political philosophy of cooperation and coexistence), and also draw Legislative Speaker Wang Jin-pyng (王金平) into a push toward interparty cooperation in the legislature. This would be much more constructive than looking for connections in the dust of history, and enable Ma to create a discourse that would be more persuasive than his current one.
Jou Yi-cheng is a director of the international department of the Taiwan Foundation for Democracy.
Translated by Daniel Cheng and Ian Bartholomew
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,