Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) hatched a bold plan to charge forward and seize the initiative when he held a protest in front of the Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. Though risky, because illegal, its success would help tackle at least six problems facing both himself and the KMT.
What he did not see coming was Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (將萬安) tripping him up out of the gate.
In spite of Chu being the most consequential and successful KMT chairman since the early 2010s — arguably saving the party from financial ruin and restoring its electoral viability — he is facing a difficult period in the run up to September’s KMT chair election, which he probably wants to win.
Photo: Tu Chien-jung, Taipei Times
But voices in the party are once again rising against him. Though his reforms since 2021 when he became chairman were necessary for the survival of the party, he made enemies along the way.
With the KMT chair race looming, Chu is facing a series of challenges from party heavyweights, including the term-limited New Taipei City Mayor Hou You-yi (侯友宜), Legislative Speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) and, most seriously, Taichung Mayor and favorite to be the 2028 KMT presidential candidate, Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕).
Chu has recently been overshadowed by the ambitious powerbroker Fu Kun-chi (傅崐萁), the KMT’s legislative caucus convener.
RECALL CAMPAIGNS
The recall campaigns against KMT lawmakers have considerable momentum, while the KMT-backed recall campaigns against Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) lawmakers have been lackluster. Currently, the DPP only has 15 in the second stage compared to the KMT’s 35 lawmakers — an imbalance blamed on Chu.
Worse for the KMT, several of their party-backed recall campaigns have encountered legal issues in New Taipei City, Taipei, Keeling and Kaohsiung over allegations of forging signatures.
Then last week, Sung Chien-liang (宋建樑), the leader of a KMT-backed recall campaign, wore a Nazi armband and carried a copy of Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf into the New Taipei City District Prosecutors Office after being summoned for questioning. While there, Sung performed a Nazi salute. The KMT was slammed for not swiftly condemning this, though eventually they did — yet they still defended him “satirizing” the DPP’s “dictatorship.”
With the legislature not in session and Fu getting less attention, Chu’s protest would be an opportunity to bring the spotlight back on himself, while distracting from the recall campaign and Nazi imbroglio and perhaps even appeal to some Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) supporters. Few political plans have been so ambitious in addressing so many issues at once, and from a political perspective, his plan was a good one politically, barring any surprises.
HOW TO BUILD EXCITEMENT
It is within the above context that Chu called for a protest outside of Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. He had no time to apply for a permit, and has subsequently been summoned by police for leading an illegal assembly.
That was likely part of Chu’s plan — to underscore his resolve and perhaps become something of a martyr to the party faithful if prosecutors press charges. It also echoes the actions of the TPP that drew thousands of mostly younger supporters to protest the detainment of their founder Ko Wen-je (柯文哲), a demographic that the KMT and Chu deeply covet.
To boost the interest and excitement, Chu has been rolling out some new language not previously used at the top levels in the KMT. He called on the public to not only resist the “red commies” (the Chinese Communist Party) but also the “green commies” (the DPP) that are out to “destroy democracy.”
Some hits included “green terror,” DPP “dictatorship” and “autocratic regime,” but there was also some newer slogans such as “fascist dictatorship,” possibly hoping to distract from the Nazi incident.
Chu decried the “weaponization” of the judiciary, but added some new material by describing them as “hired thugs” out to “chase down and kill” “dissidents,” by which he is referring to members of the KMT and TPP who are being “unjustly” targeted.
To build on the excitement and momentum he hoped to generate, he announced an “arise to battle dictatorship” rally on April 26 on Taipei’s Ketagalan Boulevard.
RALLYING THE BASE
If you find yourself rolling your eyes at the language used, you are not deep blue, and those are exactly the people the KMT and Chu need right now. Chu has made many enemies while reforming the party, including the Huang Fuhsing veteran’s group, which functioned semi-independently within the party as a major power broker, but Chu reduced it to a series of ceremonial committees.
Many local politicians shut out by Chu’s refusal to hold primaries still angers many, while the national association of city and county council speakers and deputy speakers is no fan of Chu’s.
With some key institutional elements within the KMT opposed to him, Chu needs to mobilize the core base rank-and-file to his side in the chair election, and in the shorter term to ensure their turnout in the party’s efforts to recall DPP lawmakers.
The deep blue core shows up to sign recalls and vote in party elections. Chu normally appeals to the center or light blues in general elections, but the current situation strategically requires a very different base-centric strategy.
Many key figures in the party rallied to his call to protest outside the prosecutor’s offices, including Taoyuan Mayor Simon Chang (張善政) and the big prize, Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an. He was likely disappointed that New Taipei City’s Hou and Taichung’s Lu did not show, but his turnout was respectable enough.
In many respects Chu’s efforts were successful, with plenty of press coverage, images of him raising his fist defiantly and high profile commentary on his message. Good television and red meat for the base accomplished.
THUNDER THIEF
Chiang then stole much of his thunder by calling for the legislature to pass a vote of no confidence in the cabinet, which would require them to resign within 10 days. They can request the president to dissolve the legislature, which forces new elections.
This drew considerable attention, with speculation largely assuming this was Chiang throwing down a challenge to Chu on his big day as a prelude to entering the party chair race. His proposal has attracted some big backers in the KMT, but a cool response from the TPP.
In an upcoming column we will examine what Chiang was likely up to, the stakes for the various parties and how it is likely to turn out.
Donovan’s Deep Dives is a regular column by Courtney Donovan Smith (石東文) who writes in-depth analysis on everything about Taiwan’s political scene and geopolitics. Donovan is also the central Taiwan correspondent at ICRT FM100 Radio News, co-publisher of Compass Magazine, co-founder Taiwan Report (report.tw) and former chair of the Taichung American Chamber of Commerce. Follow him on X: @donovan_smith.
In the March 9 edition of the Taipei Times a piece by Ninon Godefroy ran with the headine “The quiet, gentle rhythm of Taiwan.” It started with the line “Taiwan is a small, humble place. There is no Eiffel Tower, no pyramids — no singular attraction that draws the world’s attention.” I laughed out loud at that. This was out of no disrespect for the author or the piece, which made some interesting analogies and good points about how both Din Tai Fung’s and Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co’s (TSMC, 台積電) meticulous attention to detail and quality are not quite up to
April 21 to April 27 Hsieh Er’s (謝娥) political fortunes were rising fast after she got out of jail and joined the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in December 1945. Not only did she hold key positions in various committees, she was elected the only woman on the Taipei City Council and headed to Nanjing in 1946 as the sole Taiwanese female representative to the National Constituent Assembly. With the support of first lady Soong May-ling (宋美齡), she started the Taipei Women’s Association and Taiwan Provincial Women’s Association, where she
It is one of the more remarkable facts of Taiwan history that it was never occupied or claimed by any of the numerous kingdoms of southern China — Han or otherwise — that lay just across the water from it. None of their brilliant ministers ever discovered that Taiwan was a “core interest” of the state whose annexation was “inevitable.” As Paul Kua notes in an excellent monograph laying out how the Portuguese gave Taiwan the name “Formosa,” the first Europeans to express an interest in occupying Taiwan were the Spanish. Tonio Andrade in his seminal work, How Taiwan Became Chinese,
Mongolian influencer Anudari Daarya looks effortlessly glamorous and carefree in her social media posts — but the classically trained pianist’s road to acceptance as a transgender artist has been anything but easy. She is one of a growing number of Mongolian LGBTQ youth challenging stereotypes and fighting for acceptance through media representation in the socially conservative country. LGBTQ Mongolians often hide their identities from their employers and colleagues for fear of discrimination, with a survey by the non-profit LGBT Centre Mongolia showing that only 20 percent of people felt comfortable coming out at work. Daarya, 25, said she has faced discrimination since she
RSS