Despite President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) campaign promises and the policies of his administration, which envision a big cake for everyone to share, the reality is very different. The government’s move to allow Chinese investment in Taiwan is a case in point. In the three months since deregulation, Taiwan has attracted just NT$189 million (US$5.87 million) in Chinese investment.
The government has tried to explain why there has been no rush to invest: Taiwan still has too many restrictions on Chinese capital and Chinese visitors; the global economic climate is not favorable; China is partly to blame. It is now nearly a year and a half since Ma’s Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) regained control of the government, but its core policy — improving cross-strait economic and trade ties — has not produced many benefits.
The government also opened Taiwan to Chinese tourists, but even during the Golden Week holiday following China’s Oct. 1 National Day, only about 1,000 Chinese visitors arrived per day — far short of the predicted 3,000. Japanese and US tourist numbers are also down. As most Chinese tourists come here on low-cost tours and are not big spenders, they generate less revenue than the missing Japanese and Americans.
After all the hype, the opening to Chinese tourists and investment were anti-climactic. Now the government is preparing to sign a memorandum of understanding (MOU) on cross-strait financial supervision and an economic cooperation framework agreement (ECFA) with China. Taiwanese businesspeople are uncertain about the promised benefits of these agreements, while the working class fears they may exacerbate unemployment.
The MOU will allow Chinese banks to open branches in Taiwan. The problem is that China has no private banks — they are all state run. Their branches in Taiwan can therefore be expected to serve a political purpose. If they offer higher interest rates than local banks, they will attract the majority of deposits and can then lend this money to Chinese-invested businesses in Taiwan, allowing them to buy up key resources and take control of the economy.
While the planned MOU is limited to finance, an ECFA would go farther. The Ma administration wants to use an ECFA to connect with ASEAN and avoid marginalization, but this is just wishful thinking. Other ASEAN members may not want Taiwan in their club, and China has not promised to allow Taiwan in.
An ECFA will also make it easier for businesses to move from Taiwan to China, which means less jobs in Taiwan. Taiwan’s market will be open to Chinese agricultural and industrial products and services and China’s low labor costs will make it impossible for Taiwanese firms to compete. The government has promised that imports of Chinese farm produce will be limited and Chinese workers barred, but these measures go against the free-trade spirit of the WTO and an ECFA, casting doubt on their viability. The benefits of an ECFA are far from clear, while the negatives are obvious. It is only natural that Taiwanese workers and some entrepreneurs, especially those in the traditional manufacturing sector, would be anxious.
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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