On Monday, the Russian parliament offered an unqualified example of hypocrisy with a vote in favor of independence for Abkhazia and South Ossetia from Georgia.
Both houses of parliament called on Russian President Dmitry Medvedev to recognize the two breakaway regions as sovereign nations — with not a single lawmaker dissenting. (Medvedev responded yesterday by doing just that.)
Parliamentarians basked in the opportunity to stand on the side of virtue, repeatedly comparing Georgia’s government to Nazi Germany. Lawmakers were also quick to point to the fact that South Ossetia and Abkhazia already met the requirements of statehood.
But the impassioned support of Russian parliamentarians was a bit much to swallow. More than anything, it highlighted the selective reasoning of major international powers such as Moscow and Washington in their approach to the various sovereignty disputes around the globe, including Taiwan’s status.
While there is no doubt that these disputes have substantial differences, one unifying characteristic is that de facto yet unrecognized states find their fates in the hands not of their own people, but of world powers who hold the key to the UN. This small circle of governments is not making decisions based on the best interests of those involved in the conflict, but rather on their own strategic concerns.
Few countries are more familiar with this problem than Taiwan, a former UN member that has watched its number of allies dwindle as China’s clout has grown.
In the case of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, it is telling that until recently, Russia showed little interest in backing their arguments for self-rule. While both regions declared formal independence in the early 1990s, Russia’s stance on the matter only began to change earlier this year, indicating that its support was in fact a response to geopolitical factors in the region, as well as its own strategic interests. In March — just two months after Georgia held a referendum on whether to seek NATO membership — Moscow said it would recognize the governments of these two territories if Georgia joined the organization.
Meanwhile, as Moscow feigned concern about ethnic oppression in Abkhazia and South Ossetia, fresh violence in Chechnya over the weekend was a reminder of the unresolved tensions in its own backyard.
It was these enduring problems at home that made Russia’s staunch opposition to Kosovo’s declaration of independence in February so predictable. By now stepping out in favor of independence for Abkhazia and South Ossetia, however, Moscow is departing from the basis of its argument in other disputes.
South Ossetian leader Eduard Kokoity was eager to help Russia justify the illogical. In a speech to lawmakers, Kokoity said that South Ossetia and Abkhazia had more compelling reasons for independence than Kosovo.
Russian parliamentarians were quick to agree. But had they been pressed to clarify Moscow’s opposition to Taiwanese independence in the same breath, achieving any semblance of consistency would have been impossible. That Taiwan is also de facto independent and fulfills the requirements of statehood is undeniable.
In this context, Moscow’s condemnation of Georgian aggression and its pious philosophizing on the rights of these enclaves came across as little more than cant.
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,