Former Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) chairman Shih Ming-Teh (
Shih's activities have symbolic significance due to his historical ties with the DPP, but are unlikely to enjoy much success. The truth of the matter is the worst moment for Chen has passed. In the absence of any new and dramatic revelation, Chen is widely expected to finish the remainder of his term. No amount of open or "back room" condemnation by Shih or any other former DPP bigwig -- such as Hsu Hsin-liang (許信良) -- is likely to accomplish anything much.
It cannot be denied that Shih and Hsu played an important role in the dissident movement of the Martial Law era and in the nation's democratization process. Their ties with the DPP run deep -- the fact that they both served as DPP chairman pretty much speaks for itself.
However, during the past few years, they have gone out of their way to criticize or rubbish the DPP. When they periodically resurface to make news, it has typically been to promote some agenda in which they side with the pan-blues. Hsu's speech at the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) headquarters last week during a celebration for the one-year anniversary of Ma Ying-jeou's (
Perhaps Shih and Hsu genuinely feel that they have risen above the petty inter-party bickering that constitutes contemporary Taiwanese politics, and are simply taking on an impartial role as "fatherly" advisor or critic. Unfortunately, there is little room in the nation's politics for so-called "moderates" or impartial figures.
In today's Taiwan, the world is clearly divided between blue and green, and never the twain shall meet. In particular, for figures with a strong affiliation or background in one camp, almost the only alternative to strong party identification is to swing rapidly and sharply to the opposite side. The voters on the other side will embrace you, because you are living proof that their enemies (that is, your old comrades) were wrong. There is no turning back, however, because your old friends will consider, rightly, that you have betrayed them. And this is the situation with Shih and Hsu.
Under the circumstances, Shih and Hsu have virtually no influence in the DPP and among pan-green voters in general. When they speak out against the DPP government and Chen, those who are "moved" or "inspired" are not pan-green supporters but pan-blue supporters. In fact, every time they speak, traditional pan-green supporters are enraged, as they feel that the pan-blue camp is deliberately using Shih and Hsu to insult them. Under the circumstances, the fact that Ma has already indicated that his party will support Shih's campaign will only further alienate pan-green voters from the campaign.
At the same time as Shih launched his campaign, there has been a lot of speculation about the attitude of former president Lee Teng-hui (
Faced with the possible intervention of Lee and Lin in the campaign to unseat the president, Shih's noise is the least of Chen's worries.
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,