Don't believe the hype.
Representative politics is inherently theatrical, and in Taiwan, sometimes this theatricality approaches a level of vaudeville that would not be out of place in an old English music hall, complete with a master of ceremonies and an orchestra in the pit.
Despite the denunciations, the threats, the demonstrations, the lawsuits, the scandals and the breathless media coverage, this is a remarkably composed society that frowns on excessive behavior.
But if you believe some media commentators, there is a phenomenon of "chaos" (luan,
Were the hysterics on TV screens reflected in the regular behavior of ordinary people, there might be real cause for concern. But this is not the case.
It should be noted that conflict between pan-blue and pan-green supporters almost always takes place in predictable contexts, and bona fide troublemakers are usually closely accompanied by a suitable number of police.
It is also critical to note that instances of ethnic conflict unrelated to political campaigns do not occur with anywhere near the degree of spontaneity and violence that plague other countries. Most people have their conspicuous ethnic markers, but most will not let these precipitate a conflict.
Taiwan's politicians and political pundits are very fond of hyperbole, which retains appeal in a sensationalist media environment. Yet just a few hundred kilometers south of Taiwan is a country with serious problems that make Taiwanese references to luan seem precious and self-absorbed. The Philippines, with its entrenched poverty, terrorism threat, Muslim insurgency, rights abuses and other problems makes use of the word "chaos" here seem ridiculous.
It remains a common argument that Han people harbor a terrible fear of luan, and this has been used to justify repression and atrocities to prevent luan breaking out all over. There may be millions of reasons why China -- or, more accurately, the Chinese Communist Party and its business partners -- would peddle this kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. But it is those who gain from this propaganda who have the most potential to impose luan on nearby innocents.
A Chinese embargo, missile attack or invasion is of course the genuine luan that people ought to fear, but people do not in their day-to-day activities perceive this to be a realistic threat -- for the time being. It is as if there is an understanding that the warning signs for a cross-strait conflict would be telegraphed so far in advance that most believe intervention by mediators -- domestic or international -- would have its effect long before any punitive action eventuated. Pragmatic to the last, Taiwanese seem to know where true chaos lies, and what must be done to avoid it.
So enough of the use of the word "chaotic" to describe Taiwanese society, and here's hoping that this place will not need to see a repeat of events of 60 years ago to be reminded of what true chaos is.
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,