From the red-carpet treatment they have been receiving since they started arriving in Taiwan, one would think that the thousands of Amway China tourists visiting the country were god-like creatures sent from a faraway kingdom.
Greeted by crowds, special performances, the media and showered with gifts, the Chinese visitors are being turned into objects of near-veneration, as if they were — to quote an infamous official at one of the nation’s representative offices abroad — “superior” beings visiting an uncivilized land.
Meanwhile, other, larger tourist segments — such as the 1.08 million Japanese who topped the list of visitors last year — have not received any special treatment, despite historical ties and the far greater impact they have on the tourism sector.
Rather than treating them as special guests and giving them — with undertones of an inferiority complex — more importance than they should receive, Chinese visitors should be exposed to the openness and freely expressed diversity that starkly distinguishes Taiwan from China.
Chinese tourists should not be isolated in their tour buses, like nobles in a protective sedan chair zigzagging a Jurassic Park where dangers lurk, driven from one safe spot to another. Otherwise, Taiwan will simply be mimicking what the Chinese do whenever foreign officials visit their country: present an incomplete and sanitized — if not false — picture of the country.
In China’s case, poverty, environmental catastrophe and political dissent are hidden from view, giving visitors the impression that all is well.
In Taiwan, what is being sanitized for Chinese consumption, ironically, are the great accomplishments of the past two decades — the benefits of free speech, liberalism and democracy, where Tibetans, Falun Gong practitioners, sexual minorities, government critics and others live together, with little fear of persecution.
For their own benefit, Chinese visitors should not be prevented from coming in close contact with people and groups who need to express their anger at Chinese authorities by demonstrating.
Conversely, Taiwanese should stop treating Chinese visitors as if they were nothing more than cash cows, with reporters asking them again and again how much they plan on spending here. These are questions that would never be asked of visitors from other countries.
Not only is it impolite to do so, but when the people in question happen to be Chinese, it politicizes tourism and plays into the Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) administration’s misleading contention that Chinese will save Taiwan’s economy.
So pointless is the question, in fact, that depending on one’s perspective, the same answer can lead to two interpretations: See how little they’re spending, opponents of Ma’s policies will say. See how much they’re spending, his supporters will counter. Regardless, in the end, however much they spend, Chinese visitors will not “save” Taiwan’s economy.
If cross-strait travel is to avoid becoming more than it should be, we must avoid politicizing it. This means treating Chinese visitors no differently — as neither gods nor cash cows — than we would others, and putting the same amount of energy into giving them the opportunity to explore what makes Taiwan special that we would for visitors from the US, Japan, South Korea and the EU.
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s
US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) were born under the sign of Gemini. Geminis are known for their intelligence, creativity, adaptability and flexibility. It is unlikely, then, that the trade conflict between the US and China would escalate into a catastrophic collision. It is more probable that both sides would seek a way to de-escalate, paving the way for a Trump-Xi summit that allows the global economy some breathing room. Practically speaking, China and the US have vulnerabilities, and a prolonged trade war would be damaging for both. In the US, the electoral system means that public opinion
RSS