Although the presidency did not change hands in January, the electorate expressed its discontent with the ruling party by ending its majority in the legislature. Yet at the same time, it did not see fit to hand the traditional opposition a majority in its own right, resulting in a split chamber. With the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) holding 52 seats (plus two independent allies), the upstart Taiwan People’s Party eight and the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) 51, expectations of a feisty legislature were high, and the KMT has not disappointed.
Clinging to its slight coalition majority, the KMT has hit the ground running on its promise to act as a check on the DPP government. Starting from its controversial choice to field divisive former presidential candidate Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) as legislative speaker, it is clear the party is thrilled to once again have the ability to shake things up with its antics rather than shouting into the void.
KMT caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (?) has been champing particularly hard at the bit to elevate his political capital. Despite just returning to the legislature, he was determined to be a top contender for the speakership, even after the party coalesced around Han. His consolation prize was to be caucus whip, a role he has embraced in earnest.
Fu seems to have hit his stride in the past few weeks, wresting attention away from the KMT heavyweights disgraced in the last election. Late last month, he led a delegation of 17 KMT lawmakers on a controversial trip to China, where they met Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference Chairman Wang Huning (王滬寧). Shortly after returning, he demanded that lawmakers change terminology in legislation to say “mainland” rather than “China,” and “Taiwan” rather than “nation” — a move with bad optics considering the timing, even for the KMT.
Now Fu and the rest of the party have smelled blood in the water when it comes to electricity prices. No one likes to pay more for their air-conditioning in the summer, but global supply and cost-of-living increases have forced the government’s hand. Not that that matters in politics, when the opposition can cry foul without proposing a solution. That is exactly what the KMT has done, first by passing a motion calling on the government to freeze rates. As it was non-binding, the Ministry of Economic Affairs stayed the course while explaining the need to raise rates to keep Taiwan Power Co afloat.
Sensing a political opportunity, Fu then threatened to freeze the ministry’s nonessential budget during the next review. It is also pushing new legislation: On Friday last week it passed directly to the second reading an amendment that would give the legislature the power to approve any change in electricity prices. If approved, the change would have lasting consequences by opening the door for political wrangling over a technical budgeting matter.
The KMT knows how to play the media, but it often fails to recognize where the boundaries lie. At the moment, the party leadership seems content to sit back and let the Fu circus run for as long as it is expedient. However, the more they let his faction radicalize the narrative, the harder it will be to guide it back to the center.
The people did not vote for the KMT in January — they voted against the ruling party. Giving its more radical factions free reign might backfire when the next election rolls around.
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,