I am here in my mold/But I'm a million different people from one day to the next/I can't change my mold.
To better understand the phantasm that is the cross-strait "status quo," one need only consider these lyrics from Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve. The term "status quo" is used so often, so unquestioningly, and means different things to so many people, that it is surprising few subject its reification to critical scrutiny.
"Status quo" can be defined as "no change" or "maintaining the current situation." But this is not what is taking place in the Taiwan Strait. Thus, the different conceptions of "status quo" are like melodies, sometimes in harmony, but increasingly not.
To the Democratic Progressive Party government, the status quo is a rhetorical weapon to justify hardening cross-strait policy, comforted in the knowledge that time is China's enemy, and that an impatient Beijing must place more pressure on Taipei. To the DPP, this vindicates warnings of ill will from China, and Beijing's inability to abide by the status quo.
To Washington, or at least that part of Washington that backs Taiwan, the status quo is a fire blanket that keeps the parties underneath from combusting. One day, it is hoped, the parties will have cooled sufficiently for Washington to lift the blanket and peek inside, where it will witness a democratizing China that has abandoned militant feelings and can co-exist with the lone superpower.
To China, the status quo prevents Taipei acting unilaterally until such time that the signal is given and Beijing can act according to its own agenda. In the meantime, China can dot its coastline with as many missiles and troops as it wants. In other times and places, such arming of a frontier would precipitate and probably justify a pre-emptive attack by the threatened party. But in China's case, saying "status quo" frequently enough is an opiate -- this time for foreign consumption -- that lulls other starry-eyed states into a preposterous sense of security.
To Chairman Ma Ying-jeou's (
And to the Taiwanese public? Ever pragmatic, the status quo is code for "We're more interested in making a living than ideology and starting fights. Let's worry about this later." Yet deep inside there is an awareness that pragmatism will only work as long as space for it exists, and that constriction of space from every direction will lead to a day of reckoning.
These different conceptions thread in and out of each other in a rambling counterpoint that serves to confuse and numb through repetition until the expression is left flailing as a mantra, a three-syllable nonsense invoked to comfort without recourse to content. It is a cypher, and like The Verve's Richard Ashcroft in the video for Bittersweet Symphony, it marches forward, barely responsive to what is happening around it, unconscious of the pain and anger of the people it offends. But when a large vehicle appears and is big enough to block its path, it stops, looking vacantly inside as if it could negotiate.
The "status quo" is viable because of a balance of forces from different directions. Some of these are unpredictable and growing weaker. The critical question, therefore, is not how to keep the "status quo" alive, but rather how and when it will fall apart and how prepared this government and the population will be at that very moment to defend themselves against a storm of Chinese sociopathy.
China badly misread Japan. It sought to intimidate Tokyo into silence on Taiwan. Instead, it has achieved the opposite by hardening Japanese resolve. By trying to bludgeon a major power like Japan into accepting its “red lines” — above all on Taiwan — China laid bare the raw coercive logic of compellence now driving its foreign policy toward Asian states. From the Taiwan Strait and the East and South China Seas to the Himalayan frontier, Beijing has increasingly relied on economic warfare, diplomatic intimidation and military pressure to bend neighbors to its will. Confident in its growing power, China appeared to believe
After more than three weeks since the Honduran elections took place, its National Electoral Council finally certified the new president of Honduras. During the campaign, the two leading contenders, Nasry Asfura and Salvador Nasralla, who according to the council were separated by 27,026 votes in the final tally, promised to restore diplomatic ties with Taiwan if elected. Nasralla refused to accept the result and said that he would challenge all the irregularities in court. However, with formal recognition from the US and rapid acknowledgment from key regional governments, including Argentina and Panama, a reversal of the results appears institutionally and politically
In 2009, Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC) made a welcome move to offer in-house contracts to all outsourced employees. It was a step forward for labor relations and the enterprise facing long-standing issues around outsourcing. TSMC founder Morris Chang (張忠謀) once said: “Anything that goes against basic values and principles must be reformed regardless of the cost — on this, there can be no compromise.” The quote is a testament to a core belief of the company’s culture: Injustices must be faced head-on and set right. If TSMC can be clear on its convictions, then should the Ministry of Education
The Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) provided several reasons for military drills it conducted in five zones around Taiwan on Monday and yesterday. The first was as a warning to “Taiwanese independence forces” to cease and desist. This is a consistent line from the Chinese authorities. The second was that the drills were aimed at “deterrence” of outside military intervention. Monday’s announcement of the drills was the first time that Beijing has publicly used the second reason for conducting such drills. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) leadership is clearly rattled by “external forces” apparently consolidating around an intention to intervene. The targets of
RSS