While officials now tell us that the feed additive ractopamine contained in some US beef does not pose a health risk, the longstanding controversy over its import into Taiwan could, if mishandled, poison relations between Taipei and Washington.
Fundamentally, the problem lies with special interest groups in Taiwan and the US. In Taiwan, those who oppose lifting the ban on US beef containing ractopamine residue have adopted a policy that seeks to protect the domestic meat industry. Protectionism is every bit as important as health considerations in this dispute — witness the legislators and activists who have made this issue their own, but have nothing to say about the proven nefarious effects of cigarettes, or motor vehicle pollution.
As for the US, its policy on the matter is alimented by a lobby that seeks to maximize the export of meat products. It is also an election year, which tends to make policymakers more receptive to such pressures.
Although the beef controversy should be treated as an isolated trade spat between two countries, there has been a tendency on both sides to politicize the matter by tying it to other elements of the relationship. As a result, if the situation is not handled with political deftness, it could damage relations between Taipei and its most important ally.
In Taiwan, there is an underlying anti--Americanism to the opposition to US beef imports and some of the protesters who took to the streets in protest — including Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) legislators — do little to hide their feelings. Indeed, one suspects that there are some within the DPP who have taken up this cause more as a means to get even with Washington for its perceived meddling in the Jan. 14 presidential election.
While Taiwanese have every right to decide what does and does not end up on their dinner plates, it would be a mistake to regard US insistence on exporting its beef products, or Taipei’s acquiescence, as a sign of US imperialism.
Equally unpalatable is the attempt by some on the US side to link the US beef issue to other policy initiatives, such as negotiations on the Taiwan-US Trade and Investment Framework Agreement (TIFA). The political and economic ramifications of the agreement for Taiwan cannot be emphasized enough, if only because it would provide a key counterbalance to the Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement (ECFA) signed by Taipei and Beijing in June 2010.
Holding TIFA talks hostage until the beef issue is resolved comes close to blackmail, which is not conducive to friendly relations. It is, however, very close to how Beijing approaches negotiations with Taipei.
Both sides must be willing to compromise, while making sure that whatever decision is ultimately made does not undermine other aspects of their bilateral relationship.
Taiwan stands to gain nothing, but could lose a great deal, if the US beef dispute becomes a rallying point for anti-Americanism (for cynical politicians who seek rapprochement with Beijing at the expense of relations with Washington, such an outcome would be like manna from Heaven). Who knows what would happen to US security guarantees or arms sales to Taiwan if things reached such a point.
Cool heads must prevail, particularly as there is already a certain degree of apprehension over the level of US commitment to Taiwan.
While not sacrificing its national interest, vulnerable sectors and yes, public health, Taiwan should not give vacillating US politicians more reasons to treat it like an unwanted side dish.
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,