Those who think that handing the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) a two-thirds legislative majority (or a three-quarters majority if minor parties and independents come on board) is going to make the more aggressive members of the KMT more respectful of democratic processes and their underlying principles are in for a real shock.
This criticism may appear partisan, but it is not. Nor is it a gratuitous swipe at KMT leaders who have promised to treat the Democratic Progressive Party's (DPP) legislative minority with respect, which would be a welcome development.
Only weeks after the legislative elections, a number of KMT figures have dropped hints that the dramatic increase in their legislative presence will be used to stake a claim on powers that belong to the executive -- and even the average voter.
The latest of these signals comes from KMT caucus whip Kuo Su-chun (
Most people refused to take part in the referendums this month, and there is a real risk that ennui and partisan considerations will kill the UN referendums when they are held. Hence the maneuvering over achieving a result on the UN bid.
But referendum topics are not of concern here. What is chilling is Kuo's idea that a legislative resolution would somehow override the result of a referendum: The "legislature represents the latest will of the people," as she put it, as if the legislature were the only manifestation of public will in this country.
Kuo did not seem to appreciate that referendums take place with constitutional authority and that the legislature would precipitate a constitutional crisis if it attempted to obstruct the process of ordinary people to petition for a referendum, regardless of its political party-sponsor.
The issue is protecting the Constitution from predators, regardless of their office. The Constitution is a charter that belongs to the citizenry, not cliques of politicians, though this simple fact is clearly not respected by a large number of legislators.
Of late, KMT presidential candidate Ma Ying-jeou (
But Ma is running for the same office whose fundamental authority he has eroded by failing -- in his time as party chairman -- to keep legislators such as Kuo in check when they overstepped the lines between self, party and national interest.
If Ma supports the dismantling of presidential powers, the diminishing of the public's referendum powers and the creation of a parliamentary system in which a Cabinet is made up of legislators, then he should say so.
But he has not said so. The next big thing in Taiwanese politics -- should Ma win the election -- will therefore be watching him defend the viability of the presidency as his newly empowered legislative colleagues encroach upon the powers of the executive, and by extension the Constitution.
It is an untenable position, yet any retaliation will not come from the DPP, which is weak and poorly organized. Instead, the fallout will take the form of bickering within the KMT machine; ongoing instability in executive-legislative relations; and public servants defending their fragile professionalism as legislators bury their snouts deeper into the trough.
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,