Russia’s unprovoked and senseless invasion of Ukraine has gripped the world over its potential ramifications on the global order. One autocratic ruler’s decision to disregard all reason and attack another sovereign state in what many are calling the “worst conflict in Europe since World War II” has suddenly made the inconceivable undeniable, and left everyone wondering if this would be the first domino to fall in a long and destructive run.
The obvious parallels between Ukraine and Taiwan have not gone unnoticed. Especially at a time when the perennial threat facing Taiwan has been consistently making headlines, commentators have been quick to raise the alarm that it “could be next.” Both have massive neighbors convinced that they are an inalienable part of their territory, led by autocrats with an iron grip on power and disdain for “the West.”
Yet this is where the similarities end. Understanding the differences is key to soberly assessing risk.
First and most evident, Ukraine shares a long land border with its bellicose neighbor, while Taiwan has the advantage of being a mountainous smattering of islands that have been building up defenses for decades. Ukraine was caught off-guard when Russia annexed the Crimean Peninsula in 2014 and has been playing catch-up ever since. Most experts are confident that invading Taiwan would be immensely lengthy and costly for China, with no guarantee of success — especially with US involvement.
Sanctions against China would also likely have a far more acute sting, given its massive economy’s integration with the rest of the world. Beijing will certainly be watching closely to see how far countries are willing to go in sanctioning Russia, and adjust its risk calculation accordingly.
Perhaps most importantly, Taiwan is of critical economic interest to the countries poised to take action in its defense. The world relies on Taiwan for semiconductors, meaning that a Chinese invasion would at best disrupt supply and at worst rewrite the technological and geopolitical world order.
As unfathomable as it might seem to ignore these immense risks, Russian President Vladimir Putin has shown the world that when a tyrant is in charge, the war room is always open. Yet Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) is not the same as Putin, and neither are their countries.
China’s leaders have time and again shown themselves to be calculating, and over the past week have once again proven their prudence. Beijing has carefully avoided any declarations of allegiance, acutely aware that affirming Russia also affirms its recognition of breakaway territories and invasion of another sovereign state, flying in the face of its foreign policy of noninterference.
Xi is also more likely to continue along this trajectory, because he sees where it leads. China views itself as a rising power, poised to eventually take over the mantle from the Western powers if it waits patiently and plays its cards with care. Meanwhile, Putin commands a state in decline. Both men want to leave their mark on the world — the difference is that Putin’s time is running out, while Xi believes he only needs to wait.
Although the doomsday talk in foreign media needs some cooling, the pundits are not entirely wrong. For all their differences, it is a very real possibility that China could decide on a military solution. No one can predict the calculations happening in the halls of power, and as the Ukraine crisis has shown, anything is possible.
Taiwan should take this warning to heart. Seeing images of Ukrainian citizens taking up arms serves as a striking reminder of what could happen, and everyone should be better prepared.
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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