Taiwan's "democracy is considerably matured and liberal economics is deeply ingrained, so it is a law-abiding country," then Japanese foreign minister Taro Aso said in March last year, adding that "in various ways, it is a country that shares a sense of values with Japan."
Aso's comment to a parliamentary committee led Beijing to accuse Japan of "crude interference in its internal affairs" and prompted assurances by Tokyo that Aso's comments did not constitute a change in Japanese policy vis-a-vis China and Taiwan.
Slip of the tongue or not, Aso, who last week announced his candidacy to replace Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, had said something that could only please Taipei.
True, Aso has a tendency to glorify Japan's colonial past and a discomforting talent for making politically incorrect comments, but perhaps a firebrand like him is what is needed in the region, which is increasingly mired in the muck of a "status quo" that has only benefited China.
When it comes to Taiwan, the Tokyo-Beijing rapprochement engineered by Abe has not been to Taipei's benefit, and the "political correctness" Tokyo adopted on issues of resonance in Beijing -- Japan's war past and Taiwan, mostly -- only served to diminish the pressure on the Chinese leadership to change its antiquated view of the world.
There are already too many leaders who are willing to cozy up to Beijing -- and what good has that done Taiwan or Tibet, or the countless Chinese locked up in jail for seeking human rights?
Aso, perhaps, isn't such a leader, and therein lies a tremendous opportunity for Taiwan.
For, truth be told, Taiwan suffers from a severe case of Dutch Disease, the term political scientists use to describe a country that relies to such an extent on a single natural resource to function that once that resource expires or its proceeds are diverted, the country faces an existential threat. Diplomatically speaking, Taiwan is just like one of those states, but in this case the "resource," rather than being timber or oil, is the US, around whose political decisions Taiwan's fate seems to revolve.
The only way states suffering from Dutch Disease can improve their chances of survival is to diversify so that the removal of the primary resource would not engender a fall into chaos. Taiwan, therefore, should seek to diversify its allies, with a special focus on major powers -- like Japan, for example, which is not only an economic powerhouse capable of competing with China but also one that happens to have cultural affinities with Taiwan. And it is a regional power, perhaps even in its ascendancy in terms of political engagement and military clout.
By grooming leaders like Aso, Taiwan would substantially improve its odds of survival as a sovereign country in the advent of a US disengagement from the Taiwan Strait.
The US has been a good ally of Taiwan, but it is an ally that has numerous responsibilities around the globe and whose attention span is no match for Beijing's. Having the leaders of other major allies on its side, therefore, wouldn't hurt Taiwan.
Although there is no guarantee Aso will be Japan's next prime minister, wouldn't it be nice if, for once, President Chen Shui-bian (
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,