The Cabinet has offered a number of explanations for its appalling approval ratings. Officials have cited their failure to clarify new policies and government flip-flops on key issues.
Government officials “constantly change their minds” and fumble when asked to defend policy decisions, according to Research, Development and Evaluation Commission Minister Jiang Yi-huah (江宜樺). The commission’s analysis showed this had fed skepticism over government policies, Jiang said.
The government would do well to heed its own advice. As though on cue, it groped for a response this weekend when it came under fire over plans to create onshore work areas for Chinese fishermen at several ports.
A civic group drew attention to the policy on Saturday, protesting the construction of a fenced-off section in Nanfangao (南方澳), Ilan County, for Chinese fishermen to carry out tasks such as unloading cargo. With at least four other ports set to create similar work areas, protesters accused President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) of breaking his campaign promise not to give jobs to Chinese workers.
Soon the clarifications began. The Fisheries Agency said the Chinese workers would be able to earn extra money doing odd jobs at the areas, though the Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) swiftly rebutted that notion. The head of the Fisheries Agency said fishermen would only be ashore during the day, while the council said they would be housed there. The council said the Chinese fishermen would not be taking up a greater workload, while the Fisheries Agency said there was a need for the foreign workers to fill gaps in manpower.
Since the incentive for creating onshore work areas for Chinese fishermen remains unclear, such contradictions vindicate the questions posed by critics. The latter are concerned that the areas will gradually grow to accommodate more foreign labor for a wider variety of tasks, such as preparing fish for market.
If the reasoning behind a policy — especially one concerning a topic as sensitive as cross-strait labor regulations — is not clear, the plan will be open to any number of interpretations.
But this policy should arouse skepticism for another reason. The work areas being created would be a no man’s land, which should ring a warning bell in a country with a record of little respect for migrant workers’ rights. It would appear that the plan is to cage off hundreds of Chinese workers who will be able to work on Taiwanese soil without officially entering the country — no passing through immigration, no visas.
This is not the only labor twilight zone Ma’s administration has proposed. As part of its i-Taiwan 12 projects, the government hopes to create an “air city” and economic zone at Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport that critics say would fall neatly beyond the reach of the country’s labor laws — a recipe for exploitation. Any form of “special” area where foreign workers can work without being covered by labor laws deserves particular scrutiny.
The Cabinet must follow sound advice and not let this issue drop from view in a muddled state. It should clearly address discrepancies and explain its motivation for dreaming up such a confusing plan. Failure to do so would be just another example of the poor style of administration that has eroded Ma’s once stellar approval ratings.
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
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,
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
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,