With the much-vaunted Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement (ECFA) evidently failing to deliver on the government’s promise to improve the economy, and with inflationary concerns on the rise, President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) administration has decided to reduce costs. This makes sense, but there is a problem: These cuts are targeting the key symbols of nationhood.
Nearly four years into Ma’s first term and less than a month before he embarks on his second, the state of Taiwan’s economy is rather underwhelming — especially for an administration that never misses an opportunity to accuse its predecessor of mishandling that very sector. The TAIEX is tumbling, salaries are stagnant, exports (even to China) are down and GDP growth has been sliced so often it might as well be salami.
The only thing that has gone up during that period is the cost of living, a trend that is about to be exacerbated by major hikes in energy prices.
As a responsible government that cares for the welfare of its people, the Ma administration has announced that the May 20 presidential inauguration ceremonies will cost no more than NT$6 million (US$200,000), 85 percent less than the cost of the inauguration in 2008 and 91 percent less than former president Chen Shui-bian’s (陳水扁) inauguration in 2004. Among other things, a fireworks display and a party will be canceled, leaving pretty much just a banquet.
That is all well and good, but it hardly explains why, a little more than six months ago when every economist could already have told us the economy was not performing too well, the same government was willing to disburse NT$3.3 billion — or 550 times what it will spend next month — on celebrations for the Republic of China (ROC) centennial. Or why NT$215 million in taxpayers’ money, 36 times the cost of the inauguration, was spent on the Dreamers (夢想家) musical about the Xinhai Revolution and the establishment of the ROC.
Aside from the trimmed-down inauguration, another item that has faced severe cuts was the annual Han Kuang military exercises. Here again, to conserve money, the drills were toned down — so much so that no live ammunition was expended in the five days of exercises.
One wonders if it is purely coincidental that cuts in government spending only seem to affect the very symbols of nationhood and sovereignty, from national defense to celebrations of the democratic process, that gave Ma a second term in office.
Undoubtedly, governments should refrain from splurging when their nation is in dire financial straits. However, this should not happen at the expense of national pride. Taiwanese, regardless of whether they voted for Ma on Jan. 14, have a right to be proud of their democracy, which is what May 20 is all about. How do ordinary Taiwanese benefit if the celebrations are confined to an inaccessible banquet at the Grand Hotel?
Nearly 600 dignitaries, from heads of state to various representatives, will gather on that day to usher Ma into his second term. They, too, should be able to sense that Taiwan is a proud nation, not one that constantly does everything in its power to keep a low profile so as not to anger the giant next door.
Taiwanese and everybody else who cherishes democratic ideals deserve fireworks and a party on May 20, one that is worthy of the occasion.
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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