Among the immigrants and expatriates who’ve lived in Taiwan for years, there are hundreds and perhaps thousands who’d very much like to cement their status here and their connection with the country by becoming naturalized citizens — but feel they cannot proceed under current rules.
They meet the residency, good conduct, language proficiency and other requirements for citizenship, yet they regard one part of the naturalization process as a dealbreaker. The demand, set out in Article 9 of the Nationality Act (國籍法), that aliens “applying for naturalization shall provide a certificate of loss of original nationality within one year from the day of approval of naturalization,” is widely seen as an unreasonable stipulation that new citizens sever ties with their home country.
Giving up one’s original citizenship may mean: Having to obtain a visa before traveling to the country where one was born; not being able to spend months at a time there, and thus unable to care for aged parents; unfavorable taxation consequences; and not being able to own or inherit property in that country.
Photo: Doruk Sargin
Some foreign citizens are able to naturalize as Taiwanese without relinquishing their previous nationality. Japanese individuals have successfully completed the process after submitting paperwork from their home country confirming that their application to renounce Japanese citizenship wasn’t approved. And because they’re governed by different rules, holders of Hong Kong Special Administrative Region or China passports needn’t give up those travel documents. Chinese citizens, however, must renounce their household registration in China. (It seems they can later restore their China household registration, but doing so would likely result in losing their Taiwan ID card and household registration.)
What’s more, people from countries where renunciation is never permitted (such as Argentina) and those who qualify as “high-level professionals” needn’t prove they’ve given up their original nationality. But the pathway to citizenship for those in the latter category is notoriously narrow: Between 2016 and the end of last year, it resulted in just 281 new Taiwan citizens.
DOUBLE STANDARD
Photo: Reuters
Taiwan, officially known as the Republic of China (ROC) isn’t unusual in insisting that new citizens have just one nationality. Several countries don’t allow their adult citizens to hold other nationalities. In China, Japan and elsewhere, the prohibition applies in both directions. In Taiwan, however, there’s a blatant double standard that exists nowhere else in the world, and which angers many would-be citizens.
In contrast with the renunciation requirement that’s imposed on the majority of newcomers who try to naturalize, Taiwanese who move abroad can continue to enjoy the benefits of holding a Taiwan passport, even if they acquire foreign nationality.
So long as they maintain their household registration in Taiwan, they can vote here and stay enrolled in the National Health Insurance scheme. Taiwanese who move back to Taiwan can keep their second passports, unless they stand for elected office, or accept a senior civil service or political-appointee position.
Photo: TT file photo
Asked if he knows why Taiwan has ended up with this peculiar legal asymmetry, David Chang (張代偉), secretary-general of Crossroads — an NGO that aims to facilitate exchanges of talent between local and international communities “for the promotion of cultural, academic and industry diversification” — says he can’t point to any one reason with certainty.
“I think it stems from identity, and an expectation that people declare loyalty by relinquishing their original nationality,” he speculates, adding: “Of course, if you pointed out that, according to such logic, Taiwanese living overseas should give up their Taiwan passports, you’d probably be met with silence.”
He thinks there could also be a fear that, if substantial numbers of “non-Taiwanese” become citizens and take part in the political process, “the system of power might be disturbed. For a country that’s not used to immigration, it’s understandable that people might feel this way.”
At the end of last year, 851,932 aliens were resident in Taiwan. President-elect William Lai’s (賴清德) margin of victory in last month’s presidential election was 914,998. According to a survey last year of Taiwan-based foreign professionals by Talent Taiwan (a unit of the National Development Council), 62 percent of the 1,000-plus respondents don’t plan to apply for citizenship, but they’d consider it if they could also retain their current passports.
CHALLENGES
Taiwan faces multiple challenges, including a low birth rate, an aging population and global competition for talent, Chang says.
“A healthy circulation of talent should consist of a standardized and holistic process for attracting, integrating and cultivating talent to boost the workforce — in essence, bringing in new talents for the purpose of absorbing and ‘home-growing’ the country’s workforce. However, by holding immigrants at arm’s length by making it challenging for them and their children to become fully vested citizens, immigration efforts only serve as short-term ‘bandages’ to the hemorrhaging of talent,” he says, before adding: “But how can we convince people who’ve not been exposed to diversity that this is the case?”
Whatever its origins, the “dual citizenship for us, but not for you” reality is galling, to put it mildly, says a Taichung-based bike industry entrepreneur who prefers to remain anonymous. “In my opinion, insisting on single citizenship for everyone — like Singapore does — is much more reasonable,” he says.
The first business he established employed 50 people before he was bought out by his partner. His current firm has 15 employees. He pays taxes and owns property in Taiwan. His wife and children are Taiwanese. “But I’m not good enough to be a citizen? I’m a little bitter about that,” says the APRC (alien permanent resident certificate) holder.
Asked about his motives, he replies: “I’d really love to vote in Taiwan. I’ve spent almost as much time here as in my home country. I’d love to have my say in the democratic process.”
In 2017, he submitted documents and letters of recommendation in a bid to become naturalized on the strength of his contributions to the country in which he’s now lived for 18 years. His application was rejected.
He’s since considered naturalizing via the conventional route, yet he remains reluctant to disown his original citizenship. One reason is emotional. Despite his strong commitment to Taiwan, and recent turmoil “back home,” he still feels an attachment to the Southern Hemisphere country in which he grew up.
The other is practical. In addition to being Taiwanese, his children are citizens of his home country. But if he renounced his current citizenship to satisfy Taiwan’s rules, they’d lose their second passports. “If it didn’t impact them, I’d probably renounce and then try to reclaim my original citizenship,” he says.
LOYAL CITIZENS?
If the renunciation provision is supposed to ensure that new citizens are loyal, by ensuring they’ve nowhere else to go, there are at least two reasons why it’s unlikely to be effective.
First, whoever drafted the rule didn’t seem to contemplate the possibility that an applicant may already hold more than one passport. Individuals who already have dual nationality aren’t required to give up both, just the one they used to establish themselves in Taiwan.
Second, many countries allow those who’ve quit the citizenship they were born with to restore it at a later date. This is straightforward for someone who used to be Australian, British, South African, Vietnamese or a citizen of the Philippines. For those who relinquished a US or Pakistani passport, it’s much more difficult, but sometimes possible.
Guidance published by the British government advises: “You have a right (once only) to be registered as a British citizen if you previously renounced British citizenship in order to keep or acquire another citizenship.” If the applicant has already exercised that right, they can reapply, but reregistering as a British citizen will depend on the discretion of officials.
A newly naturalized citizen of Taiwan may get their old passport back even before submitting the “certificate of loss of original nationality” required by Article 9. At least one person from a Western country is doing this.
Explaining that he merely needs to provide proof that he renounced his previous citizenship within a year of naturalizing, otherwise the naturalization will be revoked and his Taiwan passport canceled, he tells the Taipei Times that he’s already reinstated his original citizenship and will get a new passport from his country of birth before returning to Taiwan.
The man — who’s been advised to remain anonymous, because his actions could be perceived as making a mockery of the rules and the bureaucrats who apply them — says the entire relinquish-and-restore process is costing him close to NT$20,000.
The financial cost of giving up one’s citizenship may deter some would-be Taiwanese. To renounce, New Zealanders need to pay their government NZ$398.60 (NT$7,764). For Americans, the fee was recently reduced from US$2,350 (NT$74,024) to US$450 (NT$14,175). One unintended consequence of the renunciation obligation is that it transfers money from Taiwan households to foreign governments.
Making naturalization difficult hampers foreign residents who’d otherwise invest in their lives here. A woman from Europe who’s working in Taiwan, and stresses that she’ll never become Taiwanese if it means giving up her original passport, says recently she wanted to buy a property, but couldn’t because local banks wouldn’t lend her enough money.
Her bank told her that, if she’d been a naturalized citizen of Taiwan, they’d be happy to arrange a mortgage of 85 to 90 percent of the property’s value, “but since I’m still a foreigner, despite having a high income, they could only offer 60 or 70 percent.”
In expatriate circles, the reluctance of local banks to issue credit cards to non-citizens who’ve lived here for decades is a perennial complaint.
“I’d like Taiwan to make it easier to express support for this country,” says the bicycle entrepreneur in Taichung. “The amount of international goodwill that Taiwan enjoys is massive and growing. It could only benefit Taiwan to have a greater number of white-collar foreign-born citizens from a range of countries, adding skills and diversity to the society.”
When 17-year-old Lin Shih (林石) crossed the Taiwan Strait in 1746 with a group of settlers, he could hardly have known the magnitude of wealth and influence his family would later amass on the island, or that one day tourists would be walking through the home of his descendants in central Taiwan. He might also have been surprised to see the family home located in Wufeng District (霧峰) of Taichung, as Lin initially settled further north in what is now Dali District (大里). However, after the Qing executed him for his alleged participation in the Lin Shuang-Wen Rebellion (林爽文事件), his grandsons were
A jumbo operation is moving 20 elephants across the breadth of India to the mammoth private zoo set up by the son of Asia’s richest man, adjoining a sprawling oil refinery. The elephants have been “freed from the exploitative logging industry,” according to the Vantara Animal Rescue Centre, run by Anant Ambani, son of the billionaire head of Reliance Industries Mukesh Ambani, a close ally of Prime Minister Narendra Modi. The sheer scale of the self-declared “world’s biggest wild animal rescue center” has raised eyebrows — including more than 50 bears, 160 tigers, 200 lions, 250 leopards and 900 crocodiles, according to
They were four years old, 15 or only seven months when they were sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau, Bergen-Belsen, Buchenwald and Ravensbruck. Some were born there. Somehow they survived, began their lives again and had children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren themselves. Now in the evening of their lives, some 40 survivors of the Nazi camps tell their story as the world marks the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau, the most notorious of the death camps. In 15 countries, from Israel to Poland, Russia to Argentina, Canada to South Africa, they spoke of victory over absolute evil. Some spoke publicly for the first
I am kneeling quite awkwardly on a cushion in a yoga studio in London’s Shoreditch on an unseasonably chilly Wednesday and wondering when exactly will be the optimum time to rearrange my legs. I have an ice-cold mango and passion fruit kombucha beside me and an agonising case of pins and needles. The solution to pins and needles, I learned a few years ago, is to directly confront the agony: pull your legs out from underneath you, bend your toes up as high as they can reach, and yes, it will hurt far more initially, but then the pain subsides.
RSS