Book Review: Social Forces in the Re-making of Cross-Strait Relations (or, the KMT is worse than you ever thought possible)

 

This is a bit long, but I've fiddled with it for such a long time that I'm just going to publish it as-is.

Here's an excerpt from a conversation I had with Brendan recently:

Me: So I just finished this Routledge book, Social Forces in the Re-making of Cross-Strait Relations. 

Brendan: Gonna write a review?

Me: Obviously. This one was interesting because it took the evolution of social movements, mostly under Ma Ying-jeou, and analyzed them in a Gramscian framework. 

Brendan: Huh.

Me: Y'know, Gramsci, the guy American right-wingers think taught nursery school kids about critical race theory in the basement of a pizzeria, and that's why now there are transgender people.

Brendan: It was probably pretty hard for him to do that from a jail cell in Fascist Italy a hundred years ago. 

That's what happened while I was reading Social Forces in the Re-making of Cross-Strait Relations. As you might imagine, it starts out very academic: if you need a primer or refresher on Gramsci to better understand the theoretical framework, author André Beckershoff has you covered. If you don't, feel free to jump ahead to the Taiwanese history and analysis.

The SparkNotes paraphrase of Gramsci is that he's most famous for his dissection of cultural hegemony: the process by which a ruling (capitalist) class dominates the culture of a society, including diverse societies, to establish or maintain control of that society's norms, perceptions and expectations in order to legitimize their place at the top. It's not exactly Marxism in the traditional sense, but it is absolutely rooted in Marxist thought. Gramsci's hegemons are the same Boss Class that rule every capitalist society, who then disseminate pro-capital opinions until they become foundational to that society's ethos, thus supporting the continued existence of the Boss Class.

That is, accumulation is always good, we're at the top because we deserve to be there, what we want is what's best for society and therefore should also be what everyone else wants, and what's best for society is oh-so-conveniently exactly what keeps us in power.

Let me also lay out my personal stuff, so that you'll know where I'm coming from in this review.

This may be shocking for some, but I'm not a communist. At best, I'm quasi-anarcho-socialist, to the left of parties like the Democrats and the DPP, but able and willing to find common ground and compromise with many. When it comes to Taiwan, I believe in a pragmatic approach which sometimes necessitates dealing with the worst people on Earth, although I refuse to be a part of it.

I do not believe in a Leninist praxis in which a 'vanguard party' leads a revolution, because I don't like to be told what to do. Not by a billionaire pig, and not by some asshole who insists his dictatorship is 'of the proletariat' when it obviously isn't. In short: yes to mutual aid and community-building, no to sending people to the wall for thought crimes, and no to 'political tutelage', which is just another name for manufacturing consent. An opinion which, of course, would get me sent to the wall for thought crimes.

So I'm the sort of lefty that right-wingers think is turning everyone gay (that'd be awesome, yet is unfortunately untrue), but I'm not-quite-leftist enough such that the purists think I'm just another capitalist. I may not be a communist, but I'm mostly okay with Gramsci.


Gramsci in a Taiwan Context

As such, the theoretical framework of Beckershoff's book makes intuitive sense to me. In the context of Taiwanese history, the process by which the KMT came to Taiwan, set up systems that redirected capital accumulation toward themselves, and used education, "the rule of law" and the media among other tools to consolidate their wealth and power.

The KMT's hegemonic strategy differs, however, in that they didn't just use non-violent 'cultural' means. They also used violent ones: 228, Martial Law, the White Terror. No one serious denies these events happened, but it's telling that the excuse-mongers' only tactic to legitimize them is typically along the lines of "the ROC needed to cement their rule over Taiwan". 

But of course, that begs the question: it assumes the permanent KMT/ROC governance of Taiwan is fundamentally legitimate, and therefore that end justified both violent and non-violent means. That legitimacy is usually tied back to non-binding declarations made by the leaders of other countries, not any sort of political will or choice of the Taiwanese people. Thus, I'd argue, there is no inherent legitimacy to the ROC on Taiwan, so excuses for its actions not meaningful arguments, they're thought-terminating cliches.

That's a slight digression, but these sorts of thought processes are fundamental to the book. It spends some time discussing KMT strategy during the Chen Shui-bian administration, but the greatest focus is on the interplay between the Ma administration that succeeded Chen's, and the social movements that sought to cripple his agenda and mostly (though not entirely) failed, until they succeeded. The Wild Strawberries, Anti-Media Monopoly Movement, various anti-land-expropriation movements and, of course, the Sunflower Movement. The end of the book is where this interplay (I suppose you could call it a dialectic?) comes out most strongly, although the activists of the 2010s were not the first to oppose both pro-China and pro-capital cultural hegemony. 

One excellent reason to read Social Forces in the Remaking of Cross-Strait Relations, therefore, is to consider an analysis of Taiwanese identity and its evolution through a fundamentally leftist lens. It's refreshing to read, as a counterpoint to all the conservative slugs who support (and claim to care about) Taiwan only because it stands in opposition to CCP-ruled China. It's not a simplistic nationalist or anti-communist argument: it looks at the struggle of social movements to define themselves and their country despite unrelenting attempts to undermine the existence of a Taiwanese identity by those with the most money and power.

The intended through-line, made clear right from the introduction, is that the driving force behind the narrative of capitalism being fundamental to Taiwan's identity and that Taiwan and China are (therefore) inextricably linked, is an invention of the bourgeoisie for their own benefit.

This may sound odd, as China claims to be communist, not capitalist, but the point is what benefits capital (that is, what's good for the wealthy) has been sold to Taiwanese society as something natural, inevitable, and decided by society despite having been created instead by the wealthy. The narrative that benefits the wealthy is the pro-trade, pro-China one. It doesn't really matter that the government on the other side claims to adhere to the principles of socialism. It matters that the people who push the narrative make money.


Capital and Politics, or, the KMT sucks

The party most complicit in this is KMT, both under Ma Ying-jeou specifically and in history more generally, positioning unification and Taiwan as culturally and historically Chinese as inevitable, a given. They do this through capital, that is, economic control. Early on, the KMT took control of just about all means of capital accumulation. Of course they did: they wanted all the money as well as all the power.

The importance of capital accumulation was placed alongside this positioning of Chinese cultural and political identity as foundational to the existence of Taiwan -- well, the ROC. Under Ma Ying-jeou, this strategy expanded to include CCP cooperation in manufacturing this narrative and public consent for it.

While they've pretty clearly lost the battle for identity, with most Taiwanese no longer buying into the Chinese nationalist worldview, the same can't be said for the capitalist ethos that's still seen as fundamental to Taiwan's (well, again, the ROC's) identity, if it's questioned at all. This manifests in the admiration society tends to have for wealthy businesspeople and the ineffectual pushback against long hours and low wages (or even defending mistreatment of workers as necessary for the country's economic success). There's also nostalgia for the 'Taiwan Miracle' era despite its political challenges, and most concerning of all, the belief that only increased cooperation with China will ensure Taiwan's economic future. 

This latter narrative has faced some society-wide interrogation in recent years, especially as it's become apparent how strongly Taiwan's business elite, along with the KMT and CCP in tandem, have pushed it as necessary, while condemning opposition to economic integration as foolish or short-sighted.

Beckershoff dives into all of this history in detail, which led me to a conclusion that I'm not entirely sure was intended: however bad readers of Taiwanese history might think the KMT is, the more you learn, the more you realize it's actually worse than whatever you'd previously thought. History never offers the KMT image rehabilitation -- it only makes it look more awful than it already did. 

Upon fleeing to Taiwan, the KMT first sought to consolidate economic control. They did this by stacking state-run enterprises with their own, and giving preferential treatment to large private enterprises, which tended to be run by KMT loyalists. Smaller enterprises, which were more likely to be headed by potentially disloyal local Taiwanese, were forced into the export sector. 

Land reform did increase the average income of farming households and limited land as a means of social mobility, but many farmers were unhappy with the government deals through which they acquired land to farm. The KMT then set up Farmers Associations which, under a Gramscian analysis, were used as tools to manufacture passive consent for reforms, and as a means of government control of the agricultural sector. They did this with mandatory membership in many such trade associations -- not so professionals in a trade could protect their own interests, but as a means of maintaining loyalty to the KMT.

Despite some benefits from land reform, that's all pretty bad. However, most of us knew these things already. If you didn't, welcome to the KMT Hater Train. I'll be your conductor -- Chugga Chugga Choo Choo, motherfuckers. 

But wait! There's more! Did you know that during this time, the KMT siphoned off about 50% of all rice production through the use of rice-as-payment for all manner of things, including strategically overpriced fertilizer? I hadn't, but now I do!

Did you know that compensation for expropriated land in the form of stocks and bonds was intentionally spread widely enough to ensure none became major shareholders, thus mitigating the economic power of potential dissenters? Again, I hadn't. But now I do. 

Oh, and did you know that most of that sweet, sweet US aid money (pre-1965) was granted by the KMT dictatorship to KMT loyalists, so that 'waishengren' mostly benefited, all while retaining the right to ban the formation of new companies to protect the interests of existing (waishengren-owned) ones? I could have guessed this, but I hadn't been aware of the details. 

However bad you thought the KMT was, it's actually worse.

I only have one small quibble with this section of the book: while most references to concepts such as "re-taking the Mainland" are properly contextualized in the book, on page 45 there's an unqualified reference to "retrocession". But, of course, this too is a manufactured concept. What is retrocession, exactly, when the ROC hadn't existed when Japan took Taiwan? The primary government on Taiwan between the Qing and the Japanese was the short-lived and beleaguered Republic of Taiwan, and the Qing had, for the most part, treated Taiwan as a colony, Until the last dozen years or so, they didn't bother to map, let alone govern, more than a third of the island. 

So what is 'retrocession'?

It's nonsense, that's what. 

There's more, and Beckershoff goes into detail about the role of capital in Taiwan's eventual transformation from the KMT's vision of a 'model Chinese province' from which to 're-take the Mainland' (barf) to a more liberal economic policy, but I want to jump ahead. 


The KMT is worse than you thought -- but the DPP kinda sucks too

By the mid-2000s, the KMT was already in full traitor mode, although not many people realized it at the time. I wrote about this a few posts ago, quoted below: 

Beckershoff lays out a devastating case for China's intentional smearing of DPP presidents as "the problem", making it seem as though they aren't open to or capable of initiating or engaging in any discussions, let alone peace talks or mutually agreeable rapprochement. 

In fact, the CCP was able to sidestep DPP presidents, making them seem like bigger 'troublemakers' than they have been, by engaging instead with the KMT directly, as though they were the ruling party even when they weren't. Beckershoff says of the Chen years: 

The DPP's limited success, however, was not for lack of initiative: after first overtures beginning with Chen's election in 2000, the government proposed negotiations on a variety of technical issues from 2004 onwards, but as the party-to-party platform between the KMT and CCP emerged in the same time frame, the Chinese government could afford to stall, decline or even ignore the overtures of the Taiwanese government. 

One specific example of this was undermining the Chen administration vis-à-vis tourism: 

The TSTA [Taiwan's Taiwan Strait Tourism Association] and the CTEA [China's Cross-Strait Tourism Exchange Foundation] held a third and fourth round of tourism talks in January 2007, and a fifth round in March. With both organizations having "reached consensus in many aspects", [Joseph] Wu was adamant that negotiations were "entering the final stages", a statement reaffirmed by his successor Chen Ming-tong on 27 April. 

The next day, however, the 3rd KMT-CCP Forum opened in Beijing to discuss the topics of direct flights and cross-Strait tourism. The composition of the delegation reflected the issues on the agenda: in addition to the usual party and business representatives, it comprised delegates from four Taiwanese airlines, several hotel groups as well as a number of associations from the tourism and travel sectors. Three of the forum's six recommendations dealt with issues of cross-Strait links....while the fifth recommendation endorsed the swift realization of a cross-Strait tourism agreement. The unilateral measures announced at the forum facilitated travel for Taiwanese citizens by allowing further cities to issue landing visas, and Taiwanese airlines were permitted to set up offices in China while also benefiting from measures designed to promote cooperation with Chinese airlines...

So, essentially, undercutting the work the elected government had already been doing by taking it up through a backchannel -- something that, if Wu and Chen were to be believed, was wholly unnecessary.

At the closing ceremony, Shao Qiwei, director of China's National Tourism Administration, contrasted the pragmatic and productive negotiations with the Taiwanese opposition parties through the KMT-CCP channel with the disruptive attitude of the Taiwanese government. He stated that the five rounds of negotiations between the TSTA and CTEA had reached a consensus on a large number of tourism related issues, and blamed the stalling of negotiations on the Taiwanese government's unwillingness to recognize cross-Strait tourism as domestic travel.

What 'disruptive attitude'? Not referring to Taiwan as part of the PRC? They patiently engaged in multiple rounds of communications and reached several agreements. How is a statement of fact "disruptive"? "Disruptive" is what you call someone when you know they're right, but you want to discredit them anyway.

The KMT was happy to sell Taiwan out in this regard, however, allowing the CCP to simply ignore the Taiwanese government, even when negotiations were going reasonably well. 

Then, of course, they turned around and campaigned in 2008 on the idea that only the KMT can talk to China, whereas the DPP is hostile or simply inept. But the DPP only failed to negotiate agreements on flights and tourism because the KMT cooperated with the CCP to undermine them.

I had not known these details, though I could have inferred much of it. Learning exactly how it all went down, especially as I was here to watch Ma Ying-jeou campaign on his ability to handle this specific issue, just makes me hate the KMT more. 

Again, however bad you thought the KMT were, they're worse. 

Certainly the KMT could not have done all this without the buy-in of big business -- that's one of the main points of the book, and Beckershoff catalogues in detail the ways that large corporations, or business associations comprised of their heads, worked hand-in-hand with both parties to promote the narrative in society that increased cooperation with China was not only good for Taiwan's economy, it was necessary. Yes, even the DPP, even during the Chen administration, although the KMT continues to successfully convince large sections of the electorate that this isn't the case. 

Neither party has interrogated the assumption that increased trade and other forms of cooperation with China benefits all of Taiwanese society, even when the push for such cooperation comes at the behest of the wealthy, for their own benefit. As a result, much of society hasn't questioned it either.

Do those benefits trickle down? I'm not sure, but they didn't seem to under Ma Ying-jeou. Mostly, it meant that Taiwanese had to look to China for well-paid jobs, while Taiwan itself began hollowing out for all but the ultra-wealthy. 

Following this, negotiations with China were described as economic in nature only, not political. Both parties underwrote this to some extent. The DPP was not innocent in it:

Chen, now under considerable pressure from Taiwan's bourgeoisie, convened the Economic Development Advisory Council (EDAC). This body was established to formulate a national consensus on Taiwan's economic development, with a particular emphasis on the issue of cross-Strait relations. The composition of EDAC suggests that it was not so much an open debate, but rather a vehicle to universalize the interests of Taiwan's bourgeoisie by giving hte appearance of general consensus.

There's a fair amount of detail about this in the book, focused mostly on the construction and packaging of the pro-capitalist narrative, but I'll save something for you to read.

Of course, the KMT were lying about cooperation being economic and technocratic only:

[Vincent] Siew developed the abstract framework of "economics first, politics later" into a set of concrete initiatives....the mutual trust engendered by this process wouuld also entail the potential for positive integration, a "step by step integration of politics", and thus pave the way for a "sharing of sovereignty" in the long term.

Siew said this in 2001, almost a decade before the KMT was elected on the artificially-constructed belief that they'd do a better job negotiating with China while safeguarding Taiwan's sovereignty, and people still voted for them. I don't really blame the voters for choosing Ma: Frank Hsieh was not a strong candidate, and Chen Shui-bian's corruption scandals had damaged the DPP a great deal. It's not a surprise that the KMT won in 2008.

Regardless, the DPP were not innocent in this, underscoring the ultimate big bad in Beckershoff's analysis isn't the parties per se: 

After assuming office, Chen demonstrated his willingness to reach out to China, not only suggesting that cross-Strait negotiations should take place in the pragmatic '1992 spirit' that had characterized the first meeting between the SEF [Straits Exchange Foundation] and ARATS [Association for Relations Across the Taiwan Strait], but even stating that unification would not be excluded as a potential outcome of these negotiations if the Taiwanese people supported it...

Me: "!!!"

It's not that the DPP has changed their rhetoric much since then. It's that I never expected Chen Shui-bian of all people to have said such a thing, which demonstrates just how deep the pre-packaged "KMT Say Right Things To China, DPP Bad At China" is buried in our understanding of Taiwan.

The KMT-CCP Forums were not just a vehicle for undermining the DPP's negotiations with China, they were also part of a concerted effort to promote Chinese culture as a binding agent between Taiwan and China, with associated exchanges, festivals, beneficial business regulations and more. This turn toward promoting a 'shared culture' continued well into the Ma administration:

During this latent phase, the site of struggle shifted towards the realm of culture. A first pebble that would signal the oncoming avalanche was loosened in September 2010 when the acting governor of Shaanxi province led a business delegation consisting of 500 members to Taiwan....First, we can observe a new emphasis on the cultural dimension of cross-Strait relations. In addition to meeting with Taiwan's political and capitalist elites, the delegation also visited universities and schools and attended cultural events that addressed the historical links between Shaanxi and Taiwan.

Me: What historical links?

Second, the visit was accompanied by extensive and favorable coverage in several of Taiwan's major daily newspapers, including a three-page special report n the China Times. As it would later turn out, official Chinese agencies had paid for these reports, which were disguised as news coverage rather than being marked as advertisements. 

Me: That's still a problem.

The rest of the book goes into detail on the social movements that began to contest this pro-China, pro-capitalist narrative under Ma Ying-jeou, covering much of the same ground as an earlier aptly-titled Routledge title, Taiwan's Social Movements Under Ma Ying-jeou, which I read before I began reviewing books. 


And now, the social movements

This is where the first Ma-era bubbles of true contestation of the pro-capitalist, pro-China narrative begin to surface, although Taiwan has of course always had leftists who were not necessarily communists or pro-CCP.

What would soon come to be known as the Wild Strawberry Movement provided a first challenge to the KMT's attempt to portray the negotiations across the Taiwan Strait as a mere technocratic project, the aim for which was to normalize trade relations without jeopardizing Taiwan's political status as a de facto independent country.

I do have an issue with this section of the book, in that it portrays the Wild Strawberries, the Anti-Media Monopoly Movement and the Sunflowers as three different sets of activists, with three different outcomes, the Wild Strawberries appearing the least successful and the Sunflowers the most.

This is not quite true. Many of the college and grad students who would go on to become Sunflowers who helped change Taiwan's political trajectory, had been Wild Strawberries first, and Anti-Media Monopoly activists after that. While some came and went (either joining the movement or getting tired of it, for whatever reason), for the most part a similar cross-pollinated cohort members of civic, political and student associations kept losing until they won. 

Not all of these groups were ideologically on the left, but many were. This leads to an interesting discussion in the book about what the activists themselves wanted their movement to accomplish:

Participating in the struggle against urban renewal in cases such as Wenlin Yuan, Huaguang, Shida and Shaoxing contributed to the conviction that activists were facing a deeper structural problem, exposing the need for more systematic analysis centred around the common denominator of neoliberal developmentalism. 

These movements went through a series of internal discussions, if not outright conflicts, over their long-term goals. Should they lean more toward nationalism (support for Taiwan independence) or radicalism (anti-capitalism)? 

Some activists argued that radicalism and nationalism go hand-in-hand. I tend to agree with this. Both are arguably anti-cultural hegemony, when that cultural hegemony is one of enforced Chinese identity. That said, one is indeed more radical and rooted in systemic change than the other. Arguably, Taiwan would be able to exist as a de jure country as it is now: the name would change, with the worship of wealth accumulation remaining the same. 

And I say that, again, as someone who isn't a communist; my leftist ethos tend more toward anarchy. 

Just so we're clear, however, the KMT is still the big suck here. Remember Huaguang? It was a major site of activism in those years. I thought it was bad enough that the government wanted to tear it down to free up land for the construction-developmentalist state, especially as the people living on that land were not offered compensation. 

It was actually worse than that, though: 

As the occupants of the area had constructed their houses on land owned by the Ministry of Justice, they were categorized as "illegal occupants" in 2006. This meant that the mostly elderly residents wer not entitled to rehousing or compensation and usually were asked to demolish their own houses and pay compensation for having conducted "illegal" business. 

Yeah, systemic indeed. Even if you think neoliberalism is great, free trade is the best thing ever, and negotiating with China can only ever be good, you have to admit this was a pretty filthy move on the part of the Ma administration. Most if not all of the Huaguang residents built their homes on that land because the government couldn't house all the KMT veterans and other refugees. The government tolerated these ramshackle developments, until they didn't feel like it anymore. 

That's gross, and it should make you feel gross. 

Here's another one: 

An insightful example is the case of workers who were laid off when factories, mostly in the textile sector, were relocated to China or Southeast Asia throughout the 1990s and 2000s. In many cases, the employers left owing severance and pension payments ot their former employees. These payments were first covered by the Taiwanese government, whcih lader changed its position and sued the workers for "unpaid loans".

This happened in 2012, so it was an anti-labor action by the Ma administration. Who even does this? It reads like a Reddit AITA about someone's parents sitting them down on their 16th birthday to insist they pay back all the money their parents "loaned" them in having raised them. 

However bad you think the KMT is, it's actually worse. 


Conclusion

I doubt the intended conclusion of Social Forces in the Re-making of Cross-Strait Relations was that the KMT is worse than most people think it is, even the ones who already know it's terrible. To be fair, the book makes a fair case that the bigger bad here is capital: wealthy elites deciding what narratives they want society to buy, and then disseminating them through political systems designed to keep them on top. In that way, every other party, including the DPP, is just as much a tool (or minion) of big business. 

However, I simply couldn't avoid that conclusion, even if I hadn't already been predisposed to it. The system set up to ensure the flow of capital to the already-wealthy? That was the KMT, though they were in many ways copying the Japanese colonial government before them. The patron-client networks that both parties engage in, through which these narratives of Taiwan-as-China and bourgeoisie-are-good are instilled in society? Set up by the KMT. The trade and business associations that push the government into pro-capital, and therefore pro-China. This makes them pro-Chinese identity and pro-moving toward unification, not because many people actually want these things, but because China insists on them as the cost of doing business, and the elite are more interested in making money than defending Taiwan's sovereignty.

That's the real point of Beckershoff's book, but I truly must reiterate just one more time: however bad you thought the KMT was, it's actually worse than that.

Walls, cultural and personal

I've had both a series of medical issues these past months, in addition to my usual anxiety and overall executive dysfunction. Add to that a case of writer's block as cliché as it has been severe, and I simply haven't had it in me to face the world as a writer or as much of anything. 

It's not entirely debilitating, and I am not entirely splenetic. I can still work and have a social life, and I wouldn't say the American people voting for President Rapist again has completely broken me. But it's broken me a little bit -- what tiny shred of optimism I may have once clung to has been swept away in the swash of my complete and utter inability to forgive anyone who thought a known rapist would make a great president. Quite literally, if I find out someone I know voted for him, I will never speak to them again. 

In this intense anger and anxiety, various physical ailments and investigations, and not one but two ageing and unwell cats, I've been more reclusive and less engaged. I want to wall the world off, but I've mostly been turning inward, a marked change from my usual extroversion. It's not quite to the point where my subconscious has Cask of the Amontillado'd the rest of me, but I genuinely don't think the world will be okay. 

In an attempt to deal with this constructively,  I've been escaping from the world by methodically making over the smaller back rooms in our apartment. Mostly, I'm trying to make my space more functional  and improve overall flow. There's an aesthetic component to this as well, though. My home office, which my friends call my 'lady cave', is now drenched in a plummy color hilariously called Aubergine Burst. 

This chain of events led recently to a direct confrontation with one of the few things about Taiwanese culture that I don't like, even as I have sought to understand and accept it -- the indirect, high-context no. 

In addition to enplummification of my lady cave, I've been preparing to hang new art. And that's turned into a labyrinthine side quest of its own.

A few years ago, I became the new caretaker of a massive family heirloom -- a thick, heavy tome of my great-grandfather's that was either meant to be prominently displayed in a home library or office, or perhaps on a coffee table. A Historical Atlas of Armenia, published in 1953. I can't read most of it -- my Armenian is still not that good -- but the illustrations are plentiful and...how else to describe them? Luscious. Fine detail, rich colors, metallic accents. Various maps, historical coats of arms, portraits, prints of Medieval etchings, portraits of historical notables, artistic renderings of Mount Ararat, you name it. Slightly frayed at the edges of the binding, the cover a deep wine red with the gold stamped letters ՀԱՅ (among other things), it looks exactly like the sort of thing your Armenian great-grandpa would have had in his study to show off to his friends over a bottle of cognac.

I sought to have four of the most enigmatic images scanned, printed and framed, with the metallic accents faithfully reproduced if possible. The binding on this book is so thick that it cannot be scanned and printed directly, and one fold-out map is too large for the machinery at an average copy shop.

My usual print shop for this kind of work, River Image, seems to have gone out of business. So, asked for recommendations on where to get this done, and received just two replies -- a small custom printing firm in Wanhua that seems to have mostly corporate clients, and Sir Speedy. The latter couldn't do metallic accents, so I hauled my tome across town to Wanhua to inquire at the former.

This printing business is located in a narrow lane otherwise lined with old walk-up apartments. You know the kind -- clad in mid-century tiles in neutrals and greens, with iron window grilles and sprays of plant life in pots both along the road and growing out of cracks in the wall. You'd have to look closely to even notice the existence of a print shop on the ground floor of one of these buildings. Inside, there was so much printed material for various businesses, all beautifully done, that the employees balanced A Historical Atlas of Armenia on top of one pile to inspect the pages I'd selected. 

Then they discussed the matter in Taiwanese. I even understood most of it! The binding was the thing -- the only ways to avoid shadow-casted scans were to cut the binding, or digitally pretty them up. I didn't want to cut the book, and they doubted they could re-bind it well enough. They asked for time to look into how it might be done, which I granted. 

We all agreed the job was possible. They even had metallics! The question was more about how much effort it would require, and what that would cost. 

I got the distinct sense that they didn't particularly want to do it, at least not at a price a single person would pay, compared to a business. But, they assured me, they'd try. We added each other on Line and I went home, bookless. 

A few days later they got in touch: they could do the job, but the total cost would be around NT$40,000 for two color copies each of the four images, on good paper, with gold and silver accents. They wouldn't be able to do the work until January.

Honestly, I very much wanted these prints -- one set for me, one for my sister. But I knew, and I think they knew, that I wasn't about to pay over a thousand US dollars and wait over a month for them. I drafted a message saying I'd think about it for a few days, and I genuinely would, but deep down I knew that it simply was not going to work.

I asked a local friend to check my reply in Mandarin, as I wanted to avoid any inadvertent rudeness. She felt they were "treating the customer like a buffet", and perhaps she was right. She grew up in this culture, after all; I didn't.

But something about the exchange, and the way they responded positively to my reply -- of course we know it's a big expense, we quoted the upper estimate because we want to do the best possible work, and you can get quotes from other printers too -- made me think that they weren't trying to scam me, per se. 

Rather, they didn't want to do a fairly small job for what wouldn't have been much profit, but because they could do it and didn't want to outright reject the project, they quoted a price at which they would take it on, knowing full well I'd say no thanks and look elsewhere. All on good terms, of course. 

I then took the book to Sir Speedy near Da'an Station, and they were able to scan the pages, remove the shadows and give me two sets of pretty good prints (no metallic accents, though) for NT$1400, including digital copies.

I like to think I understood what was happening and responded astutely, but I didn't like it. I knew not to pay that outrageous sum of money, which no one ever expected me to fork over, but I’ve met exists with too much money and too little sense to understand that. 

The fake quote was a way to shimmy out of an awkward ‘no’, but it put me in the awkward position of having to say it was out of my budget, whereas I wouldn’t have found a direct rejection to be awkward. Research shows that when communicating across cultural divides, people tend to develop clearer styles with more nonverbal language to alleviate misunderstanding, so it makes sense to me to do this.

I'd rather be told kindly but directly that they weren't going to take the job. I accepted how the events unfolded, because I had no choice. Just because I can see it, understand it, accept it and respond to it doesn't mean I agree with it. 

Besides, this communication style makes sense to me, not to them necessarily. I’m naturally direct, it’s also my ‘home culture’ (New York). I communicate regularly in multiple languages with people from different cultures, and have done for decades. While I don’t want to make assumptions, they likely haven’t.

And what can I do but accept and work within the culture where I chose to live? Complaining does nothing. One must adapt.

My experience with the print shop reminded me of the other aspects of local culture that I don't care for -- not standing up to toxic bosses, but rather job-hopping to the next toxic boss, and the next, and the next, whenever the current one becomes too unbearable. Doing things one actively disagrees with to avoid arguing with one's parents, including signing anti-marriage equality petitions, not buying homes they don't want you to buy, or even having kids when you don't feel ready (or want them at all). 

In a lot of these cases, I think of them less as passively accepting poor treatment from others, and more as just making a choice that I wouldn't have made, and still wouldn't make even after almost two decades in Taiwan. Sometimes I even see the wisdom -- years ago I expended far too much energy standing up to a toxic boss, but in the end the only real solution was to quit. Perhaps there's something to be learned from declining to make the effort to change a dynamic that probably can't be changed. I'd choose to die on more hills; perhaps that causes me to die more often.

But you know what? I'll still stand up for myself if I think a boss or manager is wrong about something that concerns me. Diplomatically, even kindly, if they're not irredeemable. But at the very least, I will state my position.

All this to say, I'd rather interact in a still-foreign culture in ways that feel a little unnatural to me, to say "I'll think about it" when I know the answer is "no", to respond politely to an outrageous price quote -- understanding and accepting even though I'm not fully in agreement -- than speak to single person who voted for President Rapist.

Would Xi Jinping congratulate a drag queen?

She'll be in your head all weekend

I mean...no, but let's talk about it. 

This past weekend, Taiwanese American drag queen Nymphia Wind won RuPaul's Drag Race, and everyone I know in Taiwan went mad with joy. From friends' pictures (I was at home, being boring), I could see Ximending erupting into a party. She is amazing, by the way.

It was also a massive soft power win for Taiwan. The type of soft power that a thousand politicians brainstorming in a thousand breakout sessions for a thousand years could not have engineered. Taiwan is in the international news right now on its own terms -- not amid rising tensions with China -- showing that we need drag queens, and black metal bands, theater festivals and the support of pro basketball players. No amount of ads on the side of buses will ever generate this much buzz.

You might be tempted to leave China's ongoing bullying of Taiwan out of all this, but Nymphia doesn't seem to be. After winning she exclaimed "Taiwan, this is for you" and openly calls Taiwan a country. In her acceptance, she said to "live fearlessly" -- perhaps not intended as a nod to Taiwan's refusal to give in to China's threats, but it sure felt relevant.

Notably, even the international media who reported her win, identity and calling Taiwan a 'country' continued in their own writing to label Taiwan as merely an island. They couldn't bring themselves to call Taiwan what their subject herself calls it. 

The media is incorrect, by the way: yes, the main island is also 'Taiwan', but Taiwan as a country is not an island, it's an archipelago. Editors, get your act together. Reporters, chastise your editors! 

I've already tweeted that we can all see how culturally different China and Taiwan are by the fact that President Tsai congratulated Nymphia on Twitter (the only thing I will deadname) -- something Xi Jinping would never do if a Chinese or Chinese-American drag queen had won. 

Even if they said "China, this is for you!" Especially if they said that, I bet. He'd hate the notion that China or Chinese culture might be associated with drag.

In fact, the very idea that Xi or the CCP would embrace drag or anything associated with the LGBTQIA+ community almost does not compute. It would never happen. Beijing, which certainly wants to dominate the world both culturally and literally, doesn't even seem to be aware that these spaces and communities exist and are vectors of soft power, let alone want big soft power wins or representation. 

Of course, discussions of her win are, according to the Washington Post, being downplayed in China: 

In fact, Chinese fans of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” seem to be going out of their way to avoid talking about Nymphia Wind’s success, apparently afraid of being caught up in the escalating tensions across the Taiwan Strait. “Drag Race” fan accounts on the Chinese microblogging site Weibo said they would minimize discussions about Nymphia to “protect their nascent drag scene.”

I can understand wanting to protect China's drag scene, but I genuinely do not think LGBTQIA+ equality in Taiwan can be divorced from China's aggression. China insists that Taiwan is Chinese, but this is one way in which China and Taiwan culturally are very, very different. There are many others. 

Perhaps this is an unfair assertion. It's not like queerness is unheard of in China, even historically. It's impossible to know with much certainty what most Chinese citizens think about LGBTQIA+ issues, because it's impossible to conduct such polls in totalitarian systems which oppress those communities from the top down. I would surmise that if you did ask, most Chinese would express some form of disapproval, but it's also unfair to ignore the state's active and intentional quashing of discussion of the issue. It's like that ridiculous poll finding 95% approval ratings for the CCP -- as though it were even possible to conduct such a poll and get a valid result in China! 

In other words, we won't know whether Chinese society might evolve to be tolerant of, or even embrace, LGBTQIA+ communities until the government is no longer a dictatorial nightmare. If China ever democratizes, then we'll see. 

But for now, though? The CCP is trying very hard to control the Chinese cultural narrative -- to be the sole arbiters of what is and is not "Chinese culture". At this moment, that does not include anything that Nymphia Wind represents. 

Taking it even further, those who want to force Chinese identity on Taiwan -- cultural or otherwise -- similarly do not have room in their tiny, sad worldviews for people like Nymphia Wind. Could you imagine CCP bootlicker Ma Ying-jeou congratulating her the way President Tsai did, were he still president? I can't. People like him, including everyone who shakes their cane and yells at clouds insisting that Taiwan is Chinese, ancient Chinese culture, 5,000 years, etc. etc. whatever shut up, simply do not understand Taiwan.

No matter what people like Ma and Xi shriek about Taiwan and China sharing a culture, they fundamentally misunderstand what culture is. Either they think it's just blood and DNA (it isn't), or that every nation or culture requires an associated ethnicity (they don't), or they point to fairly superficial manifestations of culture like architecture or holidays or even language. 

Culture is so much more than that: it's the means by which a group of people understand the world. Metaphorically speaking, it's a lens. And not just the outside world: culture is the lens through which you see your own community's touchstones, including architecture, holidays and language. It's what those things mean to you. It's how you relate to others, and how you treat others. In this case, it's how your country generally sees and treats its LGBTQIA+ community. In this, China and Taiwan are simply not the same. 

It's not like LGBTQIA+ acceptance is incompatible with various Asian cultures. Thailand is inching closer to being the second Asian country to recognize marriage equality. We may see it within the year. Singapore, which pretends it's a full democracy but, well, isn't, has finally been making moves in the right direction. Even Japan is figuring this out, with most Japanese supporting marriage equality. There are already openly-operating activist networks there. With luck, we'll see it happen there within the next decade. With a lot of luck, in the next five years. A girl can hope, anyway. 

In Taiwan, the first Asian country to legalize same-sex marriage no matter how much WaPo wants to demote it to an island, it's not necessarily just the young anymore: 

While Nymphia Wind is a role model for younger queens, she’s trying to reach a wider — and older — audience in Taiwan.

She hosted a groundbreaking drag show at a Taoist temple in Taipei in October, unfurling a giant rainbow flag from a pagoda-like stage as young and old celebrated a queen who, as she put it, had “descended from heaven to bless the queer mortals.”

“Old people are my target audience. I just feel like they could have a bit more fun, you know?” she said in an interview after the temple performance.

Such an evolution is clearly possible in China, it's just not likely as long as the country is ruled by brutal, reactionary genocidaires who want to control not only their own country's cultural narrative, but also Taiwan's. 

Remember that famous line from Princess Leia? The more you tighten your grip, the more star systems will slip through your fingers. The more the CCP insists on defining Chinese culture and then demanding that Taiwan follow along, the more Taiwanese will continue to live fearlessly.

Five great things to read after the election

I spend so much time critiquing the media that sometimes, I like to point out pieces that are worth reading. The well-written (or spoken), thoughtful stuff that either makes you think, teaches you something, or elevates Taiwanese voices above the general din of foreign commentators. 

Not all of these are about the election specifically. Some are, but some are more about critical points and interesting ideas being made more accessible to international audiences, simply because more Taiwanese voices are slowly starting to be heard. 


A survey of Taiwanese history

First up is one I've already linked: Kathrin Hille's survey of Taiwan's history in the Financial Times. This is the article to give someone who doesn't know much about Taiwanese history, but would like to learn more. It gets a lot of little, often-overlooked details right without being overly long. For example, it's one of the only historical surveys clarifying both that the Qing, for most of their colonial reign, did not control all of Taiwan, and explores in some detail how 'not Chinese' Taiwan really became under Japanese colonial rule -- including in the minds of most Chinese leaders.

These crucial details are often overlooked in historical summaries of Taiwan, which tend to make it seem more tied to China than it ever really has been. It's engaging, readable and accurate. I honestly can't think of anything I'd fix. 

Why Taiwan's election matters -- for Taiwan, and for the ideals of democracy

Next, Michelle Kuo's excellent piece in The Guardian is well worth a read. I love this one because it centers everything Taiwan has gotten right. Essentially, that Taiwan may have its issues but the fundamentals are good. It also correctly positions Taiwanese democracy as something that grew out of the resistance movement to KMT dictatorship. That is, it came from the Tangwai, the fighters, the Taiwanese insisting on something better. 

Certainly, KMT supporters want to believe that they are the party of democratization, because it's easier to take comfort in that than to think about all the ways their party attempted to stop it from happening, and the leaders they take as role models were objectively bad people. (The one KMT leader who is actually owed some respect, Lee Teng-hui, is the one they kicked out of the party.)

Moving back to Taiwan

Next up is a fascinating listen-and-read from NPR on Taiwanese Americans who have chosen to move back to Taiwan. It addresses all sorts of topics, from how their families might feel about their choices, to the relative feeling of safety in Taiwan despite the geopolitical threats.

There's a lot here that expats who do not have Taiwanese heritage, like me, might not necessarily realize when it comes to Taiwanese Americans who make the move, and topics we probably wouldn't think to investigate on our own. 


Emily Y. Wu on CNN

After the election, Christiane Amanpour interviewed Emily Y. Wu on the election results and what they mean for Taiwan. I want to see more of this -- getting Taiwanese voices in the international media rather than bringing on some rando white guy commentator. Wu's answers were articulate and thoughtful, providing perspective on the results and why China's threats have not deterred Taiwanese voters. She does especially well in describing why, exactly, Taiwan is already an independent nation. 

I get so tired of "should Taiwan be independent" or "will Taiwan get independence" or "can we support Taiwan independence" as though Taiwan is not currently independent. If it isn't, who governs it? Someone other than the people of Taiwan? 

I was a little taken aback by Amanpour's seeming lack of preparation. She says Lai referred to Taiwan as "Republic of Taiwan, China", and then double-confirmed it. Of course, he did no such thing. He calls it exactly what President Tsai has always called it -- either Republic of China, Taiwan or Taiwan, Republic of China. Could you even imagine what would happen if a president of Taiwan switched the two names?

Amanpour also seemed to brain fart on President Tsai's name, but hey, we all have bad days. Regardless, Emily was insightful and worth listening to.

An election scholar's take on the results

Finally, there's Frozen Garlic's take on the election results. There's little here that I didn't already know, but Batto lays out a clear narrative of what happened, and what it might mean for the parties, the government and the nation going forward. He spends a lot of time discussing who might be speaker, what it could mean, and how much power the TPP now wields in the legislature (as well as what would happen if there were a battle over Lai's premier pick, and how that would affect the various parties -- especially the TPP). 

The only thing I'd add is that it would be interesting to see the DPP back the TPP's Huang Shan-shan as speaker. I'm not sure they will, and it would be unusual for the speaker to come from a party that holds only eight seats, but it might be a way to get the TPP to consider the DPP's agenda more favorably, rather than simply trying to convince the TPP to support the DPP pick for speaker. 

As a bonus, if you're interested in how the tiny parties did, there's Donovan Smith's take to read, as well. He spends less time on the speaker and premiership and more on how various parties' fortunes have risen and fallen. 

An Ode To Bear Guy

This is Bear Guy's world. We just live in it.

I could write some hard-nosed political post about, oh I don't know, Liz Truss visiting Taiwan or potential vice-presidential candidates or the fact that I unfortunately think Hou You-yih is likely to win in 2024 or...something. But I don't want to. 

Instead, I want to talk about Bear Guy. 

This isn't even the sum total of my Bear Guy pictures. Somewhere I have one of Bear Guy holding a sign supporting Lee Ming-che in English and at least one from a marriage equality rally.

I don't know Bear Guy's identity. I'm even using "guy" in a fairly gender-neutral way: I don't know their gender, either. It might be more than one person -- there's also a tiger-themed Guy with the same type of homemade signs and specific goggles. But truly, I think they are one of the best things about Taiwan. 

For those who don't know, Bear Guy is a Taipei-based person who would show up to a wide array of generally progressive, pan-green protests and rallies in a distinctive yet slightly scruffy full bear costume. The costume didn't seem to indicate any specific political commentary; it wasn't Winnie the Pooh enough to poke fun at Xi Jinping (although other people showing up in Pooh costumes is not unheard of), and it wasn't the right color or style to be a Formosan black bear. 

Even on the hottest days they would wear the full outfit, faux fur and all. I could barely take the heat on the day of the Lee Ming-che protest years ago, or some of the protests in support of Hong Kong; Bear Guy seemed fine. Occasionally someone who appeared to be a friend or associate of Bear Guy would show up in a full Pink Panther costume, but that was not a given. They were also there for labor protests and marriage equality, though I don't think I ever saw them at an election rally. They seemed to stick to concepts, not candidates. Idealism, not political parties.

He's so ubiquitous, though, that I wondered if some fictional version of him would make an appearance in a protest scene in Wave Makers, the Netflix hit drama about Taiwanese political party workers. So far, nothing.

                     

Is Tiger Guy the same person as Bear Guy? I think so -- I've seen the yellow bear head on the tiger outfit before.

However, there's been an unfortunate dearth of Bear Guy in the public eye and in my life these past few years. There are still protests and rallies -- large ones like Pride and the typical Labor Day protests, as well as smaller ones for migrant workers' rights, weed legalization and a variety of other issues. When COVID hit, however, I began avoiding most large public gatherings. Besides, it feels like there just haven't been as many. I left Pride 2022 early as the rain was just too much and most of my friends also wanted to bail (I was also diabetic but didn't know it yet, and more tired than usual). I haven't seen Bear Guy in person or in photos since the back-to-back Black Lives Matter and pro-Hong Kong rallies of 2019. 

Why, exactly, do I hold Bear Guy in such high esteem? What makes them "one of the best things about Taiwan"? 

Well, whomever this person is, they clearly care enough about social issues to not only show up, but prepare and don a whole costume when doing so. They endure what must be a fair amount of discomfort for their own private reasons: perhaps they want to participate but don't want to be identified, and this is a fun way of ensuring their anonymity. Maybe they are indeed making a statement -- that who you are doesn't matter as long as you care enough to be present. Maybe this is just their weird sense of humor. 

But as far as I know, Bear Guy isn't trying to be famous. If they have a social media presence, I'm unaware of it (if you know of an Instagram account I can follow or something, I absolutely will, so let me know). They're just Bear Guy being Bear Guy. I love that, and I love to see how Taiwan so often defies stereotypes of Asian societies being staid, buttoned-down, no fun, with no sense of humor. "The nail that sticks out gets hammered down" and all. There are occasionally echoes of that in Taiwan -- some local bosses can be nightmares and difficult families are a global phenomenon). It's just not like that, or at least not totally: there is space in Taiwanese culture for Bear Guy to do their thing, and it's all good. 


                      


Besides, I understand that there are always eccentric folks showing up to protests around the world. And I can't possibly know what goes on in every other country. But I am unaware of any other civic culture in which public protests play a key role that has one individual who shows up in a funky costume to every single thing, to the point where people like me notice it and start keeping an eye out for them. Perhaps I'm wrong, but to me, the existence of Bear Guy is an "only in Taiwan" thing.

I also love that no one seems bothered about Bear Guy's identity. I, too, have no desire to (quite literally) unmask them. That's great too -- as Brendan once noted, "maybe people are just happy to let Bear Guy be Bear Guy." 

I couldn't agree more. Rock on, Bear Guy, and I hope to see you again soon.

Pill popping nation? Yes, but also Overworked Nation

I've been taking time off blogging for a bit, because there's just too much going on in my life and I don't have energy to deal with it all and keep a blog. What's more, most of what I have to say is a big fat downer guaranteed to not help me win friends or influence anyone, so I'm waiting until I can say it more neutrally. 

Then I read Pill Popping Nation in the Taipei Times this morning, and felt like popping in -- pun very much intended -- with a quick reaction.

Even here, it's going to take me awhile to get to the point. Please bear with me; I'm writing this on the fly when I don't really have the time.

I'm a chronic insomniac, and have been for as long as I can remember. Some of my childhood memories include staring at red-blaring numbers (remember those clunky fake-wood alarm clocks from the '80s?) as they ticked past midnight on a school night, feeling my cat hop onto my bed as Mom's snores in the next room grew deeper, falling half asleep until I dreamed up black snakes under my pillow and jolted me awake, or lying there as the same six bars of some song I didn't even like played over and over in my head. 

Once, I wandered into the kitchen for some water and found Dad awake as well, typing away. I think we were still using real typewriters back then. Turns out staying up late to write runs in the family. 

I struggled through adolescence and early adulthood. I rarely excelled at office jobs because flextime wasn't popular in the early 2000s, and the usual 9am start time was deeply incompatible with my rebellious brain chemicals. The anxiety diagnosis came in my late 30s as I was wrapping up graduate school, the ADD diagnosis on its heels. It made sense; my solid academic work was churned out despite my study habits, not because of them.

Sleeping pills worked, and they were available in Taiwan. They were prescribed by a highly-recommended psychiatrist who did take the time to talk to me, so it didn't feel like I was reaching for an easy answer. Then pandemic travel eased slightly and I visited the US in May. Turns out my Dad and I are not the only ones in the family with these issues, and I was introduced to the magic of edibles and CBD tea.

Nothing has ever worked so well as those plant-based solutions. I was anxiety-free for a month. I took no pills. I slept like a child who'd snuck a few too many sips of her parents' drinks. I even wondered if it was New York City easing all my issues. But no -- the solution was herbal all along. And no, I do not mean Chinese medicine (which I've tried to no avail.)

What does any of this have to do with Han Cheung's excellent article?

Well, I know a thing or two about being up all night, most nights, to the point that it affects your concentration and work. I know about hanging out on the couch waiting for the Lendormin to kick in, because if I try to lie in bed all I'll get is a repetitive and unwanted brain concert, six bars for each song.

Frankly, I was surprised to learn that one in five Taiwanese people share the same issues. That number does indeed seem high.

Because I take sleeping pills, I know that the fundamental point of the piece is correct: Taiwan's National Health Insurance is fantastic -- I pay next to nothing for my tiny white solutions -- but it doesn't promote holistic care. My anxiety and insomnia are probably baked in, but if I wanted to figure out what else was going on, if anything, I'd probably have to take two weeks off to see a long list of doctors to have a look at everything from my heart to my ****. There would be no general practitioner guiding me or facilitating any of it.

Not that I'm complaining -- at least it would be affordable. In the US, I'd probably just suffer and get fired a lot because I can't sleep the way a 9-5 job demands, and probably still wouldn't be able to afford adequate medical care. Now, people actually think I'm good at work!

But there's more to the story of a nation of insomniacs than "you need holistic care, not pills". 

You know what this country is? Wonderful, but also overworked. Managers tend not to be particularly flexible; 9am is 9am even if they know you were working on that project until midnight, because they assigned it.

I've had accountants fall asleep in their English class because they were working 9am-2am for months straight. I know people who've gotten emails at three in the morning, and woken up to someone angry that they hadn't responded yet. Kids go to school at 7am and return from after-school school at 10pm. On the weekends they have expensive weekend school. How could one not expect those kids to grow up with severe sleep issues?

Regular business hours appear to be 9-8, or 8-10, or 7-11, or simply It Never Stops. Calling a meeting at 6pm, or handing someone an urgent assignment on Friday night (due Monday!) is so mundane that I can't even give you a specific example. They all glom together like a big goopy ball of exhaustion. 

I don't think office workers take 1pm naps because of some cultural thing. Although daytime naps can mess up a sleep cycle, I think they're common in Taiwan because everyone is overworked all the time. The napping starts in school because the kids are overworked, too.

You'd think exhaustion would help one sleep better, but it does the opposite. 

As for me, well, I'm freelance. I bring it on myself. I'm not tormented by bad managers. I like my work and I like money, so I say yes to everything and work out the scheduling later. But I can't deny what I see in everyone else: they signed up for a regular job and a salary, not to be tormented by garbage management after years of being tormented by taskmaster teachers handing out pointless busywork. 

Truly, I love Taiwan. And yes, holistic treatment matters in reducing dependency on sleeping pills. 

But the solution isn't "acupuncture", "relaxation methods" or "traditional Chinese medicine". 

Those things might help, though I'm not an enthusiastic supporter of TCM. 

The solution is two simple things that Taiwan is not even close to prepared to do:

The first is a comprehensive overhaul of work culture in Taiwan. Most managers probably know that they are terrible (maybe this is why they have trouble sleeping, too!) Society needs to come together to pressure them to be less so.

The second is to legalize medical marijuana, especially edibles (because smoking is bad for you, period.) At the very least, CBD needs to be made more available. It's a healthier, non-addictive alternative to Xanax and Ambien, which seem to be what most people take. In other words, the most effective herbal remedies are specifically the ones that aren't legal in Taiwan, but should be.

There's no acupuncture or breathing technique strong enough to fix the problem until we address not just the internal factors causing Taiwan's insomnia issue, but the external ones as well.