With only eight legislative seats, the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) is by some distance the smallest of the three parties in the new legislature, but as no party has a majority, the other two looked to it for support to guarantee victory in yesterday’s election for legislative speaker.
On Wednesday, the TPP performed a sleight of hand, announcing during a news conference that it would field its own candidate, TPP Legislator-at-large Vivian Huang (黃珊珊), and bring the party whip down hard on any member who voted against her. If she did not win in the first round, it would instruct its members not to participate in the second.
This essentially ensured the election of Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Legislator-at-large Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) without casting a single vote for either Han or the incumbent speaker, You Si-kun (游錫堃) of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP).
Han was declared the winner in the second round of voting. It would be wonderful to be able to say that the best candidate won — but he did not.
DPP caucus whip Ker Chien-ming (柯建銘) had predicted on Wednesday, following the TPP’s news conference, that this would be the result, telling reporters: “You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know how things are going to pan out.”
After Jan. 13’s presidential and legislative elections, the KMT emerged as the largest single party in the legislature. All is fair in politics, love and war, and to the winner go the spoils. However, it is important to be clear on who should be the real winner in yesterday’s election.
The KMT got what it wanted, gaining the edge in setting the agenda, and which legislation passes and fails, despite being frustrated in its attempt to secure the presidency.
Han certainly got what he wanted, being gifted a major, influential constitutional role on the back of his support among a niche, deep-blue section of the electorate that fell so hard for his populist rhetoric five years ago that it continues to disregard his clownish ways, moral superficiality, half-baked policy proposals and proven unsuitability for elected office.
By promising him the nomination for the speakership, the KMT chose to pander to this support, despite Han’s rejection by the wider electorate: In 2020, he was recalled as Kaohsiung mayor and routed in the presidential election, before going off into the political wilderness to lick his wounds.
The TPP also got what it wanted, and TPP Chairman Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) has once again shown his cynical hand in manipulating the situation so that the party that received the fewest votes in the presidential election got to decide who became legislative speaker.
The Chinese Communist Party got what it wanted, too, as a consolation prize following its disappointment in president-elect William Lai’s (賴清德) victory.
The DPP did not get what it wanted, nor did Lai, both of whom would have a difficult time in the next four years with Han as speaker. Han has essentially said he would use the speakership as a gavel with which to beat the DPP about the head.
The political machinations should not matter, as the legislative speaker should be non-partisan and neutral, but that is the elephant in the room: There is not even a pretense of a promise of neutrality.
It is possible that Han would surprise his detractors and perform his role in a manner the position and the responsibility demand, with a steady, neutral and just hand. The jury is still out on whether he is capable of doing so.
The real winner should be Taiwan, Taiwanese and their hard-fought democracy. Not individual parties. Certainly not individuals. And absolutely not external powers.
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,