In politics, what can make a politician fall from heaven to hell in just a second? Over-reliance on his new mandate, failing to read the public mood and a huge lack of governmental coordination and internal discipline constitute the most common errors that new presidents make in the beginning of their first terms.
South Korean President Lee Myung-bak, who took office in February, has faced growing protests over his government’s agreement in April to resume beef imports from the US to clear the way for approval of a wider free-trade deal. Lee was also forced to announce a partial Cabinet reshuffle because of some scandals related to his officials.
Lee’s campaign checks of “747” — making the country the seventh largest economy in the world, decreasing the unemployment rate to 4 percent and realizing economic growth rate of 7 percent — have all bounced already. The result has been a sharp drop in his approval rating from nearly 70 percent to less than 20 percent.
President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) is walking the same path as his South Korean counterpart. Various public polls show that Ma’s popularity has steadily declined from the 58 percent of popular votes he received in the presidential election to less than 50 percent. Dissatisfaction has weighed on Ma’s approval rating.
Ma’s initial reaction to the drop in his popularity was to continue his strategy of letting the Cabinet take the fall. Ma took advantage of Taiwan’s unique constitutional system of “dual executives” and argued that the premier is the administrative chief with the highest authority over most domestic matters, while the president’s responsibilities chiefly lie in diplomacy, national defense and cross-strait relations.
Amid public furor over rising fuel and commodity prices and farmers’ calls for help following flooding in the south, Ma was strangely silent. Questioned by the media on his silence — despite his Cabinet members being busy with crisis management — Ma cited the Constitution.
Ma did not express his concerns over the Cabinet’s performance until Taiwan’s stock market slumped recently. As of this week, the TAIEX had dropped more than 1,800 points — or more than 20 percent — since the new government took office on May 20. This stands in sharp contrast to Ma’s campaign promise that after he won the election, the stock market would reach 20,000 points.
Not to mention Ma’s other electoral pledges, the “633” slogan in particular — economic growth of 6 percent, a decreased unemployment rate of 3 percent and an increased GDP of US$30,000 — seem unlikely to be achieved any time soon.
It is ironic to see that the new government, with its absolute majority in the legislature, was not able to enjoy a “honeymoon” period after taking office.
What exactly has gone wrong with the Ma administration?
First, Ma made a terrible mistake by restraining his new mandate and performing in only a “symbolic” role over the first month and a half.
Although Taiwan’s Constitution delegates the highest executive power to the premier, the president is popularly elected and retains a greater democratic mandate. The president has absolute power to appoint the premier regardless of legislative consent.
Just because Ma appears to intend to have Premier Liu Chao-hsuan (劉兆玄) and his Cabinet do most of the work does not necessarily mean the president himself can always hide behind the political scenes.
Ma’s strategy seems to be avoiding the frontline where he risks becoming the main target of the opposition Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). However, this will backfire and the fallout from public dissatisfaction will strike only the president himself.
A politician needs a permanent campaign to keep a permanent majority. Keeping a majority does not mean abandoning principles. It means caring enough about how you explain yourself to get the nation behind you. But when political leaders take bold steps and don’t explain them properly or present fancy electoral pledges and fail to implement them, the public will automatically blame everything on them.
Using the premier and the Cabinet as a “political firewall” for self-protection does no good for Ma. Changing the premier or reshuffling the Cabinet will further damage Ma’s popularity. Sooner or later Ma will have to face the nation and shoulder responsibility.
If Lee is too stubborn to accept public anger against his leadership, Ma is too conservative to live up to the public’s expectations.
Ma’s second mistake is to use the opening of cross-strait direct links as the only antidote to Taiwan’s sluggish economy. Ma expressed clearly that improved cross-strait relations and greater government investment in the domestic market would help his administration cope with the adverse impact of growing inflation and a local bourse that continues a downward trend.
Regardless of national security issues, the opening of direct weekend charter flights between Taiwan and China to Chinese tourists will only benefit certain social sectors such as the tourist industries. Placing all his economic eggs in one basket runs the risk of ignoring other international factors.
Ma should understand that the key element for his victory in the presidential election came from the scandal-ridden image of the DPP government. During his tenure, former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) still successfully portrayed the image of being a caring, hardworking leader who showed great courage in his outspoken positions.
With the new mandate on him, Ma remains popular — perhaps the most popular and most powerful political figure in Taiwan. Instead of hiding behind a political stage or simply focusing on the image-building of the “long stay,” Ma should incorporate the perception of strength in addressing Taiwan’s domestic problems to prevail in the post-election political landscape.
By taking the theme of strength and applying it to anti-corruption, economic rejuvenation, combating crime and uplifting social welfare, Ma can win more support from the rank and file.
Liu Shih-chung is a Taipei-based political commentator.
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,