At the UN General Assembly, it has been referred to as "T," for "The," while within NATO and the EU it is known by its acronym -- FYROM.
Last week, the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia won a substantial diplomatic victory when the Canadian government announced it would dispose of silly euphemisms and officially recognize it by the name Macedonia, a name which Greece has vehemently opposed ever since the region gained its independence from Yugoslavia in 1991.
Of course, Athens was not pleased with Ottawa's change of heart and the Greek foreign minister said she would contact her Canadian counterpart to "stress Greece's unwavering position" on the issue, which could possibly include Athens blocking any attempt by Macedonia to join the EU, the UN and NATO under that name.
By now, readers may have realized that the language used by Greece sounds so familiar that it's almost spooky. Substitute Athens for Beijing and Macedonia for Taiwan and you'd think we had left the Balkans for Asia.
Taiwanese could interpret Canada's decision in two ways. They could be disgusted, given the fact that during that same week Ottawa tactlessly prevaricated on issuing a visa to Democratic Progressive Party Chairman Yu Shyi-kun, only to use Typhoon Wipha as an excuse. Also, the UN yet again shot down Taiwan's bid to join the world body. Why, one would rightly ask, can Macedonia -- a country with a population one-twelfth that of Taiwan and, at US$16.96 billion, a GDP one-eightieth that of its Asian counterpart -- gain official recognition, while Taiwan continues to be snubbed?
To not call this unfair would, at best, be an exercise in delusion.
On the other hand we can look at the decision and see it as promising for Taiwan, however remote that glimmer of hope might be. Despite pressure from Macedonia's bigger, stronger neighbor and the fact that Canada and Greece are both NATO members, Ottawa still chose to recognize Macedonia, political fallout notwithstanding.
Truth be told, the damage to Canada's ties with Athens far outweighs the benefits of recognizing Macedonia. It will be interesting to see if, in the coming months, other countries follow suit.
For Taiwan, a decision like the one Ottawa made last week shows that patience and a sustained public relations campaign to sell a nation's struggle for recognition to the international community will, in the long run, bring benefits.
Sixteen years, as was the case with Macedonia, is short compared with Taiwan's nearly 60-year struggle -- and there is still no guarantee that Macedonia will successfully accede to the world bodies anytime soon. But a G8 and UN member now chooses to call it by its proper name.
Macedonia's success didn't come about all on its own, but followed a long charm campaign, accompanied by bullying and intransigence on the part of Athens. Such endeavors, like it or not, cost money.
Which brings us to the Chinese Nationalist Party's (KMT) threat last week to sue the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) for spending an estimated NT$100 million (US$3 million) on its UN campaign. Though the exercise failed in its primary objective, it was immensely successful in promoting Taiwan and engendering debate all over the world. Rarely has Taiwan been discussed so extensively in newspapers, from the US to Denmark, or had rallies -- from San Francisco to Vancouver -- held in support of the nation.
To put things in perspective, the DPP's campaign only came at one-fifteenth of the cost of an F-16 aircraft. From a PR point of view, that NT$100 million was a wise investment.
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,