"Highest moral standard" has become a popular catch-phrase in recent days, heard among politicians from across party lines -- especially so in the wake of the string of corruption scandals allegedly involving President Chen Shui-bian's (
Political observers talk about it, opposition lawmakers lecture about it and even Chen has preached about it on various occasions, stating that he would engage in introspection and hold himself to the "highest moral standard."
But what exactly is the "highest moral standard"? Whose yardstick should we use to determine what is the "highest moral standard"?
Perhaps recent events, such as Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) legislators' incessant criticism of Chen and the first family, and KMT Chairman Ma Ying-jeou's (
After initially asking her to stay on, Ma bowed to public pressure and accepted KMT spokeswoman Cheng Li-wen's (
Does the fact that Ma asked Cheng to stay on indicate he believes that Cheng's decision to accept a businessman's patronage was OK?
If Ma finds this acceptable, how can the public be assured that Chou wouldn't turn around and ask for favors should Ma become president and Cheng a member of the Cabinet?
What about the case involving former Taitung County commissioner Wu Chun-li (
Ma said that Wu and Kuang were not connected in any way. In that case, why has Ma insisted that Chen take responsibility for the alleged actions of first lady Wu Shu-jen (吳淑珍), who is accused of receiving vouchers from the SOGO Department Store, and for his son-in-law Chao Chien-ming (趙建銘), who has been charged with insider trading?
Should Wu Shu-jen and Chao be found guilty, they should of course be brought to book. But what is at question here is the difference between the moral standard the opposition uses to attack Chen and officials in the Democratic Progressive Party administration and the standard they hold themselves to.
The term "highest moral standard," after all, is arbitrary. No one is a saint, let alone politicians, who are known for their policy vacillations and broken promises.
While it might be too much to ask the nation's politicians to adhere to the "highest moral standard," at the least, the same moral standard ought to be applied to all politicians when one is pointing a finger at someone in another political camp.
If KMT lawmakers have no problem with Ma's attitude toward the controversies surrounding Cheng and Wu Chun-li, to name only two, how will Ma be able to convince the public that the country will be run better or that officials will be cleaner should he win the presidency in 2008?
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,
RSS