Imagine you receive a last-minute request from the president to take over as premier and quickly decide the composition of a new Cabinet. What would you do first? A new premier is going to be bombarded with countless tasks. He or she needs to meet prospective Cabinet members, finalize a Cabinet line-up, work out the Cabinet’s priorities and draw up a policy blueprint for the new administration.
So it was a bit surprising that the first thing Wu Den-yih (吳敦義) did after being asked to be premier was make a quick trip to Hong Kong.
Wu said that he had been invited to meet civil engineering experts and inspect Hong Kong’s landslide prevention and warning systems. President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) said he had known about Wu’s trip beforehand and that it was he who had suggested that Wu talk with members of the territory’s Civil Engineering and Development Department (CEDD).
But Wu chose to travel to Hong Kong on Sept. 5, a Saturday when public departments are closed. The timing would seem to be odd for a visit to the CEDD.
Hong Kong’s landslide prevention schemes may well be advanced, but surely Taiwan’s representative office in the territory could have obtained relevant documents and materials. The Ministry of the Interior could also have sent its engineers — who would have presumably been better qualified to inspect the systems. Was it really necessary for the premier-designate to go to himself?
What about Japan? It developed world-class techniques to try to prevent landslides after disasters similar to those that befell Hong Kong in the 1970s. Why wasn’t a trip to Japan to consult with experts suggested?
Wu’s Hong Kong trip remains a puzzle, and members of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) have voiced reasonable suspicions about hidden motives. Could it be that Wu, having been invited by Ma to become premier, went to Hong Kong to report to the Chinese leadership and get their approval? It is worth noting that after Wu’s trip, China’s official media said that his appointment would be good for cross-strait relations.
Although Wu and the Presidential Office have sought to allay suspicions, doubts remain. The Constitution doesn’t require the president to obtain legislative approval of his choice of premier. If the premier-designate doesn’t need the approval of elected representatives in Taiwan but has to go for an interview in Hong Kong to receive China’s blessing, then Taiwan’s sovereignty and independence have really dwindled to nothing more than what Hong Kong and Macau now have.
This is a serious accusation, and has the making of a major political storm that could impact not just the development of cross-strait relations but domestic politics and national sovereignty. The Presidential Office, the Cabinet and the DPP are all duty bound to take the issue seriously.
Even though the legislature doesn’t have the power to veto the choice of premier, when the new legislative session starts on Friday, lawmakers should call on the new premier to clear the air by giving a complete account of his itinerary in Hong Kong and whom he met. If Wu is found to be hiding something, or the DPP’s suspicions are proven to be true, it will mean that neither the premier nor the president are fit to remain in their posts.
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,