So gullible is the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) when it comes to Beijing’s “promises” that party members are probably the only ones who still believe that the angelic voice heard during the Olympic Games’ opening ceremony belonged to the pig-tailed beauty on stage. It is one thing to believe in something, but quite another to obstinately “want” to believe — which is what the KMT has been doing since it entered talks with Beijing.
As he continues to portray his Chinese counterparts in cross-strait negotiations as honest brokers, President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) has been whittling away at the nation’s sovereignty by dropping references to its official name. His rationale for doing so is that the emotional baggage of nationalism — as used by the former Democratic Progressive Party government — took us nowhere and should be substituted for “pragmatism,” which in his view would be more acceptable to Beijing and would increase Taiwan’s chances of being allowed to participate in international organizations. Gone, therefore, are references to “Taiwan” in the country’s applications to join world bodies, or the quest for full membership at the UN. The focus is now on “meaningful” participation, however ill-defined and dangerously flexible the term.
There is nothing intrinsically wrong with “pragmatism” and “meaningful” participation, and on paper this approach may reflect an understanding by the Ma administration that seeking more at this point would be in vain, given Beijing’s obstruction and the international community’s refusal to grant Taiwan access to institutions that require statehood.
The problem, however, is that while Taiwan has been giving in to Beijing’s pressure on the name and sovereignty issue, all that the other side has done is take what it can, with no promise of reciprocity in sight. What this means is that for Ma’s change of course to be successful, Beijing will have to start delivering on its promises and allow Taiwan to make a space for itself on the international stage. As Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Andrew Hsia (夏立言) said last week, if, as it claims, China wants to win the hearts and minds of Taiwanese, it should stop obstructing Taiwan’s bids to join organizations. The coming months will show us whether the KMT’s affair with China is a case of unrequited love or a springing relationship in which both sides gain something.
In the end, however, this is all small fry, as without permanent official membership at international institutions, whatever Beijing “gives” Taiwan can just as readily be taken away. An institutional limbo is not a position Taipei wants to finds itself in, as its participation would continue to be held hostage by the vagaries of Chinese politics.
Even more fundamental is China’s refusal to disarm, or redirect, the 1,400 missiles or so it points at Taiwan — a clear indication that in Beijing decision-making circles, hard power continues to have more traction than the “soft” power of diplomacy.
The neighborhood bully may have promised to stop cornering the weakling, but the cudgel remains within his reach and the intention to use it is undiminished. If Ma’s so-called “win-win” approach to cross-strait talks is to have any meaning for Taiwan, the missile threat must go. Otherwise, Beijing’s promises will be as illusory as the red-clad little girl who charmed the world.
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,
RSS