President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) and his Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) were supposed to respond — either through a heartfelt apology or a grand scheme to address flawed national policies — to the hundreds of protesters who threw shoes near the KMT congress venue in Greater Taichung on Sunday.
These actions are long overdue. For more than five years, Taiwanese have lived through a persistent crisis: slow economic growth, rising living expenses, backsliding democracy and human rights. Meanwhile all that has been on their president’s mind has been eliminating his political foes and rivals.
The KMT shares the same, if not more, responsibility for the nation’s miserable governance.
Yet what Ma and his party did at the one-day congress — which was pushed back from Sept. 29 and moved from Taipei to minimize the number of protesters — was again a disappointment.
With only a nominal statement of the government’s determination to assuage food safety fears, Ma and the KMT focused on other things of greater importance to them — and only them.
A revision of the party charter was passed to automatically make a KMT head of state also the party’s chairman to enhance “party-state cooperation.” Ma has called the revision a “sacrifice” because it means his current four-year term as chairman could be cut short, but most observers saw it as his attempt to shun responsibility in the event of a potential loss in next year’s seven-in-one municipal elections.
Former KMT chairman Wu Poh-hsiung (吳伯雄) pulled off a memorable speech that could go down in history. Tearing up, the veteran politician told delegates that solidarity is essential for the KMT because the party has not been a master of political wrangling and has always been at a disadvantage in terms of media influence.
Wu’s remarks undermined the collaborative effort by Ma, Premier Jiang Yi-huah (江宜樺) and Prosecutor-General Huang Shih-ming (黃世銘) to remove Legislative Speaker Wang Jin-pyng (王金平), which has widely been recognized as a political conspiracy.
For any who still hold on to any last shreds of confidence in Ma and the KMT, what happened on Sunday could be — and should be — a sign that neither Ma nor the party will change their spots during the remainder of his presidential term. People’s livelihoods have never been top of the KMT’s agenda and the party still believes that if the same lies are repeated often enough, people will believe them.
The congress also told Taiwanese two things. First, Ma has become the second coming of former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), who struggled to hold on to his power in the later stages of his presidency.
Second, the KMT will never honestly face up to its failures and shortcomings, nor does it have members with the courage to say or do the right things, not least of which would be to confront the party chairman.
Repeated shoe-throwing protests suggest the public is running out of patience and will not stop reminding the government what has to be done to bring the country back on track.
Responding to the protesters, Ma said — as he always does — that he listens to the people’s voice. Unfortunately, he hears nothing.
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,