An article in Foreign Policy recently included Taiwan’s legislature in a list of the world’s most incompetent legislatures. Lawyer C.V. Chen (陳長文) responded by publishing an article in a Chinese-language newspaper earlier this month calling for reform of the electoral system in the hope that that would improve the legislature’s abilities.
If we’re looking to legislative incompetence, the electoral system is just the tip of the iceberg. The main problem is arguably the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) government’s manipulation and abuse of the legislature. Let’s review some of the more miserable cases of the past.
Before Taiwan and China signed the Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement (ECFA) last year, the public questioned the agreement and the opposition remained skeptical. According to Article 6 of the Act Governing Relations between the People of the Taiwan Area and the Mainland Area (台灣地區與大陸地區人民關係條例), this kind of agreement should be sent to the legislature for deliberation.
In addition, Article 43 of the Constitution states that a treaty or a significant national event must be presented to the legislature for confirmation.
However, President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) said that the legislature could discuss the ECFA, but could not change it.
Surprisingly, Ma justified his conclusion by citing the Council of Grand Justices’ Constitutional Interpretation No. 329, which states: “Agreements concluded between Taiwan and mainland China are not international agreements to which this interpretation relates. It should also be noted that whether or not these agreements should be sent to the Legislation [sic] Yuan for deliberation is not included in this interpretation.”
In fact, it was the principle of the separation of constitutional powers that led the grand justices not to offer a judicial interpretation on the issue of highly political cross-strait agreements.
After Ma’s statement, the legislature submitted the ECFA to a second reading without first allowing the related committees to review the agreement. It was then passed in a matter of minutes, leaving no room for discussion.
That was the moment the soul of Taiwan’s legislature died.
Going back a little further, the KMT was in hysterics after losing the presidency in 2000. Intransigent KMT legislators then for three years refused to exercise their power of consent to approve certain Control Yuan member nominees. That was followed by a another constitutional interpretation by the grand justices, No. 632, which stated: “The Constitution does not allow for the event in which either the President or the Legislative Yuan fails to nominate or consent to the nomination of candidates so that the Control Yuan cannot exercise its power or function, thereby jeopardizing the integrity of the constitutional system.”
In the end, the problem was solved when the KMT regained power in 2008 and nominated its own Control Yuan members, allowing the Control Yuan to resume its functions.
There are too many examples to even remember, including the US arms procurements that the KMT used to block, but now supports.
If we look at the legislatures in most democracies, they at least abide by the rules of the game and procedural justice despite fierce struggles among parties and lawmakers. They still respect the legislative minority and engage in negotiations, and they communicate, and compromise.
These qualities no longer exist in Taiwan’s legislature. Whose fault is that?
Chen Rong-jye is a legal scholar.
TRANSLATED BY EDDY CHANG
Labubu, an elf-like plush toy with pointy ears and nine serrated teeth, has become a global sensation, worn by celebrities including Rihanna and Dua Lipa. These dolls are sold out in stores from Singapore to London; a human-sized version recently fetched a whopping US$150,000 at an auction in Beijing. With all the social media buzz, it is worth asking if we are witnessing the rise of a new-age collectible, or whether Labubu is a mere fad destined to fade. Investors certainly want to know. Pop Mart International Group Ltd, the Chinese manufacturer behind this trendy toy, has rallied 178 percent
My youngest son attends a university in Taipei. Throughout the past two years, whenever I have brought him his luggage or picked him up for the end of a semester or the start of a break, I have stayed at a hotel near his campus. In doing so, I have noticed a strange phenomenon: The hotel’s TV contained an unusual number of Chinese channels, filled with accents that would make a person feel as if they are in China. It is quite exhausting. A few days ago, while staying in the hotel, I found that of the 50 available TV channels,
Kinmen County’s political geography is provocative in and of itself. A pair of islets running up abreast the Chinese mainland, just 20 minutes by ferry from the Chinese city of Xiamen, Kinmen remains under the Taiwanese government’s control, after China’s failed invasion attempt in 1949. The provocative nature of Kinmen’s existence, along with the Matsu Islands off the coast of China’s Fuzhou City, has led to no shortage of outrageous takes and analyses in foreign media either fearmongering of a Chinese invasion or using these accidents of history to somehow understand Taiwan. Every few months a foreign reporter goes to
There is no such thing as a “silicon shield.” This trope has gained traction in the world of Taiwanese news, likely with the best intentions. Anything that breaks the China-controlled narrative that Taiwan is doomed to be conquered is welcome, but after observing its rise in recent months, I now believe that the “silicon shield” is a myth — one that is ultimately working against Taiwan. The basic silicon shield idea is that the world, particularly the US, would rush to defend Taiwan against a Chinese invasion because they do not want Beijing to seize the nation’s vital and unique chip industry. However,
RSS