The Ministry of Education confirmed on Wednesday that Taiwan could recognize Chinese diplomas obtained after 1997 as early as next June, provided that bills related to the proposal are approved by the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT)-controlled legislature (meaning that they likely will be).
The ministry, we are told, plans to start by recognizing diplomas from 41 top universities — those that Beijing has poured more money into since 1985. This includes Peking University, Tsinghua University, Tianjin University and Fudan University. Public universities would only be able to recruit Chinese graduate students, while private universities could recruit undergraduates.
Anyone who has read the paper “National Humiliation, History Education, and the Politics of Historical Memory: Patriotic Education Campaign in China” by Zheng Wang of Seton Hall University, published in International Studies Quarterly last year, would know that extra funding by Beijing most likely means more brainwashing in school curriculums. If Jian Junbo (簡軍波), one of Fudan University’s top students, is any indication, products of that system never waver from the party line, not even after long exposure abroad — even at Western universities (the 33-year-old Jian, whose op-ed titled “Taiwan’s ‘opportunist’ president alters tack,” published in the Asia Times online on Aug. 11, highlighted a complete lack of understanding of Taiwan’s democratic system and threatened war if work on unification was stalled, is a visiting scholar at Aalborg University in Denmark).
This is why, to give two examples, so many Chinese students abroad supported Beijing’s crackdown in Tibet prior to the Olympics last year, and why Chinese students in Australia led attacks on the Melbourne International Film Festival’s Web site in August over a documentary on Uighur leader Rebiya Kadeer.
The more Jians that enter the school system in Taiwan, the more difficult it will be for Taiwanese students and professors to advance their own historical discourse. The mix of chauvinism and strong nationalism that characterized the Chinese academics who spoke at forums in Taipei this month — where they dictated and threatened, while exhibiting a total disinterest in learning from others — would likely be present in those students, who from very early on have been fed propaganda and little else.
Another worry is that an influx of Chinese students embracing their own ideology could result in strong demand for teachers from China, which could engender a process whereby Taiwanese teachers are elbowed out — especially those who espouse a pro-independence line. It wouldn’t be surprising if, in future, the ministry were to announce that it may allow Chinese professors to teach in Taiwan.
As Zheng and others have argued, schools play an important role in the formation of national identity. If the Chinese discourse is allowed to grow roots in Taiwanese schools — through students, curriculums and perhaps professors — then Taiwanese identity will slowly be diluted, and future generations of Taiwanese will have little access to the material that, in their formative years, informs them about, and shapes, who they are.
Of course, all of this would be different — and less worrying — if Chinese who came to Taiwan were keen on learning different opinions and bringing those ideas back to China, in which case exchanges would be positive. But this isn’t the case, and the fault lies with the tremendous efforts at educational socialization that Beijing has made, starting in 1991, with its Patriotic Education Campaign.
Taiwan is under attack on many fronts. By opening up universities to Chinese students, a new beachhead could soon be stormed.
J. Michael Cole is a writer based in Taipei.
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,