President Chen Shui-bian's (
Odd as it may seem, Chen should be congratulated for this. Beset by government agencies and an opposition that refuse to reform the pallid images that pass off as national symbols, most Taiwanese have dismissed national identity as worthy of discussion.
Yet Chen is spot on -- and, for once, eloquent -- when he says: "We only have two choices. Either we sit still and wait for death, or we reach out spontaneously and show the world that Taiwan exists."
Taiwan's diplomatic dilemma is spiced up by a paradox -- rarely discussed -- that helps students of politics appreciate the meaning of realpolitik.
During the 1980s, under the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), Taiwan's allies were a who's who of rightist, military and/or racist autocracies or near-failed states that China wouldn't touch. Somoza's Nicaragua was one, along with Liberia, South Africa, South Korea and other brutal administrations.
Ironically, Taiwan's democratization came more or less in tandem with China's final, comprehensive trashing of the egalitarian principles that energized its people and that were used to justify a "proletarian" dictatorship -- and which attracted support from leftist governments around the world.
As Taiwan's formerly repressive allies became more democratic, they turned their backs on a democratizing Taiwan to open their doors to an enduringly repressive China. Having already made the switch to China in 1985 and then back to Taiwan in 1990 in step with its electoral cycle, Nicaragua would appear to be the latest of these, regardless of Chen's appearance at Nicaraguan president-elect Daniel Ortega's inauguration and any private sympathy Ortega himself might have for the Taiwanese.
Trying to convince Ortega and his party to stick by Taiwan is a tall order. As with other allies who have demonstrated their financial, commercial or ideological inclination toward China, a leftist Nicaragua is a prime candidate for newest lost ally.
If Chen does walk away from the capital without a sincere assurance from Ortega, he could do worse than fire off this parting shot: Look at what Beijing did to Guatemala and Haiti and consider the contempt China felt toward their disempowered, shell-shocked populations by threatening to boycott UN peacekeepers simply because Taiwan was their ally. By any moral standard -- for liberals or conservatives, leftists or rightists -- China's misanthropy was, and is, detestable.
Taiwan has been named and criticized as a corruptor of poor nations through checkbook diplomacy. Even if this is the case, the truth is that, unlike Taiwan, China's involvement in poor regions is not under the control of a democratically elected government and is therefore unaccountable to all but the most mercenary of bureaucrats.
Nor is it necessarily stabilizing. That China should be cited as a potential patron by the thugs impersonating soldiers in Fiji's latest disastrous coup in the face of boycotts by Australia and New Zealand says far more about China than any number of accusations against Taiwanese funny money can say about Taiwan.
The risk for Chen is that he could look utterly inept if Nicaragua were to swap allegiance soon after the inauguration. Given his difficulties at home, however, Chen could hardly be intimidated by such minor corrosion of his image. If anything, Chen's willingness to take the flight to an uncertain ally and fly the flag, so to speak, is the sign of a president who might just be beginning to fight back.
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s
US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) were born under the sign of Gemini. Geminis are known for their intelligence, creativity, adaptability and flexibility. It is unlikely, then, that the trade conflict between the US and China would escalate into a catastrophic collision. It is more probable that both sides would seek a way to de-escalate, paving the way for a Trump-Xi summit that allows the global economy some breathing room. Practically speaking, China and the US have vulnerabilities, and a prolonged trade war would be damaging for both. In the US, the electoral system means that public opinion
RSS