It is hard to know where to start with the bizarre tale of the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk and its misfortune off the coast of Hong Kong.
Beijing's refusal to allow the Kitty Hawk and its supporting vessels to dock in Hong Kong was not a subtle dig between wordsmith diplomats; it made a mockery of the US Navy and -- worse -- on Thanksgiving, possibly the most important holiday for families in the US, let alone for sailors on active duty and loved ones who wasted good money to meet them in Hong Kong.
Then there were the minesweepers, the USS Patriot and USS Guardian, whose similar misfortune of denied access was a slap in the face of the nautical tradition of haven for ships in danger.
It was clear from the confusion surrounding the 2001 Hainan Island crisis -- when a US spy plane was shadowed and struck by a Chinese jet and then forced to land on Chinese soil -- that the Chinese military and the communist leadership are not always on the same page.
The same phenomenon preceded the launch of a satellite-busting missile in January: Chinese government spokespeople seemed genuinely unaware of the matter until it was brought out into the open by foreign specialists.
In the case of the Hong Kong incident, however, the Chinese knew well in advance of -- and had apparently approved -- the visit.
The resulting snub has since been denied and confirmed all over again, depending on which Chinese official or state-controlled media outlet is doing the talking.
If Beijing cannot coordinate its political actions and responses with even the barest aptitude in a time of peace, it hardly bodes well for China, Taiwan and the region if a genuine military emergency were to unfold.
Describing the actions of the Chinese over refusing safe haven for the minesweepers, Admiral Tim Keating, the head of the US Pacific Command, said: "It is not, in our view, conduct that is indicative of a country who understands its obligations as a responsible nation."
Strong language, indeed.
But it points to an even uglier truth, and that is that China -- on international relations, human rights, disease control and notification, environmental protection, quality control in trade and any other number of critical matters -- is a country that is, indeed, chronically unable to understand its obligations as a responsible nation.
One of China's biggest success stories has been keeping this truth hidden from view as cleverly as possible.
And for those who pry further, the stock response is that China is a different kind of country that deserves special treatment.
Now, by gratuitously infuriating the most powerful military on the planet, we can see that even these fundamental tactics are beyond Beijing's capabilities, let alone explaining away the deep-seated hostility toward the US that prompted the saga.
It will be fascinating to chart the fallout.
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,