Following the gains the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) made in the local government elections on Saturday, the popularity of DPP Chairperson Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) has increased alongside the power she wields within the party. The results of a survey announced yesterday showed that her approval rate is now 43 percent, up from 27 percent in May, while that of President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) has slipped from 52 percent in May to 33 percent.
Though some interpreted Saturday’s elections as a “mid-term” exam for Ma and a gauge of the DPP’s chances in the legislative and presidential elections in 2012, the results are not, on their own, sufficiently positive to represent a shift in the fortunes of the green camp.
In fact, given the many blunders committed by the Ma administration since it came to office in May last year — from its mishandling of Typhoon Morakot to its disregard for opposing voices on its cross-strait policies — Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) candidates did surprisingly well in distancing themselves from the increasingly toxic central government, demonstrating yet again that politics are, above all, local.
In a way, if we look at Saturday’s elections as a referendum on the KMT in general and Ma in particular, we could argue that the party passed, while Ma came close to flunking. This shows us that voters are capable of distinguishing one from the other and that Ma’s misfortunes will not inevitably drag the KMT down. As more than two years separate us from the critical elections, the KMT will have sufficient time to rebuild its image and perhaps rid itself of members who risk undermining its chances of remaining in power. This could even mean nixing a Ma candidacy.
Still, the DPP has been handed an opportunity to regain momentum and to rebuild itself after years of decline. A main component to that effort will be rebranding the party as one that is more middle-of-the-road than that which, in the public eye, had grown increasingly nationalistic and exclusionary during former president Chen Shui-bian’s (陳水扁) second term. This, above all, will require efforts to convince the public, investors, the business sector and the international community that it is not anti-business or, as some media continue to characterize the DPP, “anti China.”
What it must make its detractors realize is that despite its pro-independence platform, the DPP does not advocate policies that pretend that China does not exist, nor does it seek to fuel animosities in the Taiwan Strait. It is ossible to be pro-independence and to seek closer, friendlier relations with Beijing, which, for the most part, is what the DPP tried to achieve while in office. The perception of the DPP as a “radical” and “anti-China” party may be unfair, the result of a smear campaign by Beijing, the KMT and pan-blue media, but as long as that image endures, the DPP’s chances of winning enough people to its side — and this means light-blues — to stage a comeback in 2012 will be slim.
Tsai has reached a point where people are more likely to listen to her. Now’s the time for her to engage in public diplomacy to dispel the myths that have long haunted her party and to rid it of those who risk undermining its image as a responsible alternative to the KMT.
Loud and clear, she must state that the DPP is not “anti” anything — above all China — but rather that it stands “for” many things.
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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