The first anniversary of President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) term of office passed this week with Ma holding a series of press conferences to reflect upon the last 12 months.
While Ma appears to be satisfied with his first year in office, the report card on his first 365 days is a mixed bag, with success in some areas and utter failure in others.
The biggest achievements during his first year have been in an area where he focuses most of his attention — relations with China.
Ma has delivered on promises to improve relations, while opening air, sea and postal links. His promises concerning Chinese tourists have also come to fruition.
But while Ma has succeeded in reducing tension across the Taiwan Strait to a degree, doing so has come at a cost. Taiwan has all but halted attempts to reach out to the rest of the world.
Lausanne-based business school IMD’s 2008 competitiveness ranking saw Taiwan’s economy drop 10 places to No. 23.
Another concern is the improvement in relations with Beijing. An invitation to attend the World Health Assembly raises concerns that the government negotiated with Beijing in secret. The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) continues to usurp government authority through contacts with the Chinese Communist Party, while none of the nine cross-strait agreements signed with China has been subject to legislative scrutiny.
Meanwhile, the issue of Taiwan’s sovereignty has been buried, reduced to little more than word games with confusing and contradictory references to Taiwan, the Republic of China, “one China” and the fictional “1992 consensus” emanating from the Presidential Office.
In his inauguration speech last year, Ma said he would “rely on the Constitution to protect human rights, uphold law and order and make justice independent and impartial,” adding that “Taiwan’s democracy should not be marred by political interference in the media or electoral institutions.”
None of these promises has been delivered, with a series of well-documented incidents infringing upon human rights and the specter of state intervention in a number of institutions already apparent.
Ma’s promises to push environmental sustainability have turned out to be lip service, while morale in the military has plunged.
Ma’s biggest failure, however, has been where everybody’s hopes were the highest: the economy. Ma came to power on the back of his “6-3-3” promise: 6 percent annual GDP growth, less than 3 percent unemployment and per capita annual income of US$30,000. One year on, with almost 6 percent unemployment, negative growth and annual incomes shrinking, these figures are pie in the sky.
While the global economic crisis is responsible for the downturn in the nation’s economic fortunes, the crisis has exposed the “economic expertise” of the Ma administration as gravely inadequate.
Lacking substantial policies to reduce the effects of the crisis, the Cabinet predicts growth next quarter, saying that things will get better soon.
While officials may be upbeat about the economy, looking back over the last year, it is hard to be optimistic about much else.
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,
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