The truce is working. President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) water-under-the-bridge approach to relations with Beijing is paying dividends. Cross-strait tensions are easing. Repeat these things often enough, add a dose of wishful thinking, and they may start to have a ring of truth to them.
The problem, however, is that Ma’s strategy is failing. Deplorably.
So far the only indication that rapprochement may be paying dividends is the possibility that Beijing could allow Taiwan to obtain observer status at the World Health Assembly. This would be under an unspecified name, presumably one that would make short shrift of Taiwan’s dignity. Furthermore, that display of “generosity” by Beijing would have to be renewed every year.
Everything else — Taiwan’s international space, the state of its economy, the number of Chinese visiting the country, trade pacts and the military threat the nation faces — either remains as uncertain as it was prior to Ma’s peace bid or, in some cases, has deteriorated.
The Chinese tourists have failed to materialize. The pair of pandas “given” by China were politicized and treated as a mere “domestic” transfer. The trade pacts have been negotiated between party officials rather than on a state-to-state basis and were the result of a less-than-transparent process that puts into doubt their potential for helping the Taiwanese economy.
Meanwhile, National Palace Museum Director Chou Kung-hsin (周�?, who is presently in Beijing negotiating an exchange of exhibits with her Chinese counterparts, has been compelled by Chinese authorities to drop the “national” from her employer’s name as a condition for the talks.
On the military front, while rumors briefly floated that China might cut down on the number of missiles it aims at Taiwan, news emerged last week that the People’s Liberation Army was moving in the opposite direction, with the result that since Ma came into office in May, about 200 more missiles are threatening to rain down on us.
Meanwhile, tipsy with its delusions of peace and convinced that the threat of a Chinese attack has diminished, the Ma administration has cut down on the frequency of military exercises that are crucial to ensure preparedness, while the military — purportedly to limit carbon dioxide emissions — announced it would cut down on its use of live ammunition during some exercises.
Ma has also trumpeted cuts in military personnel, both in response to the alleged emergence of peace in the Taiwan Strait and as part of a plan to create a fully professional army — a pipe dream that will remain unrealized unless the government invests billions of NT dollars into increasing salaries to attract recruits who will otherwise continue to turn to the private sector to make a living.
As if this were not enough, news reports last week said that Chinese intelligence may have attempted to blackmail Taiwanese civil servants to recruit them as spies. A few days later, the Presidential Office was being forced to deny reports that the National Security Council, headed by China-friendly Su Chi (蘇起), had ordered the National Security Bureau (NSB) to stop recruiting Chinese spies. Regardless of whether the order was given or not — and the NSB’s response to the report was insufficient to dispel fears — the fact that such allegations are being floated in the first place is an indication of the new laid-back environment the national security apparatus seems to be operating in — and inevitably undermines morale.
Let’s face it: Despite what Ma says, there is nothing at present to indicate that his peace bid is working for Taiwan. Letting our guard down at this critical juncture is a mistake from which there might no coming back.
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,