A bunch of bad eggs

This big snake covered in money lives in a Burmese temple, but it's what I picture when I think of the KMT.

Imagine spending three weeks traveling in the US and Canada -- San Francisco, Las Vegas (for a wedding), the Grand Canyon, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver and Victoria -- complete with a break from Taiwanese current events, simply because maintaining good health requires lots of breaks. 

Then you return only to see memes and cartoons of the Minister of Agriculture on Facebook. No government job strikes you as less glamorous, but here we are, all because "a number of controversies" popped up about an egg import scheme the government enacted during the Great Egg Shortage of early 2023, and the subsequent resignation of Minister Chen Chi-chung (陳吉仲).

As a newly-minted diabetic who was diagnosed just as the Great Egg Shortage was ramping up, eggs became both a cornerstone of your diet, and also the bane of your existence; they were nearly impossible to find. 

That's where I was coming from with all this, and I still struggled to care. It had the whiff of a bogus controversy propped up by exaggerated creative storytelling. 

After looking into it, it still reads as a big fat nothing-omelet. I'd like to talk about why, with a quick caveat: I've done a lot of reading, but I'm still extraordinarily jetlagged and honestly, can't be particularly arsed. So a lot of this is just my opinion in an intentionally casual tone, with maybe some links sprinkled in if my arse decides to...arse. I'm only really writing about it because it's a good example of what happens when the important opposition function of keeping the ruling party accountable devolves into any ol' random attack. Besides, as above, I care about eggs perhaps a little bit more than most people. 

Most English-language news doesn't offer much in the way of actually describing the "various controversies", and the Mandarin-language news is breathlessly reporting all sorts of bullshit, so it took awhile to find anything meaningful.

The Taipei Times points out that a large number of the egg imports expired and had to be destroyed as domestic supply stabilized, and the subsequent waste totaled about US$6.25 million. (TaiwanPlus attributed that number to the total cost of the import project). Other eggs had to be destroyed as the wrong expiration date was printed on them, but the total number doesn't seem to be very high, and no expired eggs were sold to the public. 

Some questioned the nature of a company who got the import contract -- apparently they're new and don't have a lot of capital -- implying there was corruption afoot without actually saying so, probably due to lack of evidence. There's (frankly insane) insinuations that "maybe" there is a "money issue", again with no proof or even a hint that such proof might exist. Others are calling Chen "Tsai's Boy".

One KMT legislator accused the DPP of waiting to designate Brazil as a bird flu outbreak zone, but those familiar with the imports noted that the eggs in question left Taiwan before the outbreak began. 

None of this seems like a particularly big deal to me. US$6 million sounds like a lot, but on the scale of government budgets it's not really. Nobody bought, ate or got sick from expired eggs. 20,000 mislabeled eggs is unfortunate, but it still just...doesn't sound like a lot? Big recalls are often much, much more sweeping than that.

Even pan-green media are publishing opinion pieces admitting that the issue isn't "about the truth of the egg import turmoil", saying Chen was right to step down as an issue of "ministerial integrity". How, exactly, Chen lacks "integrity" is not explained -- and I can't see that he indeed lacks it. The writer cobbled this (non) issue together with a previous thesis plagiarism scandal by an entirely different person, but I don't see how they're related. One is actually a breach of public trust. Importing eggs and having some of them go bad isn't. 

From a political perspective, stepping down was probably the right move in an election year, but not because he did anything wrong. This is just...what happens when a furor is made -- manufactured, really -- right before an election. I don't think it's anything more complicated than that. 

And yet, it's all over the news. The public is mostly dissatisfied over the government's handling of the whole thing, but I honestly can't find anything to be that upset about. In fact, nobody seemed that dissatisfied when the imports started flowing in and eggs became available again. I, for one, was overjoyed! There are very few foods I can stomach for breakfast that won't spike my blood sugar; without eggs, I didn't really have other good options.

I know Taiwanese voters have very high expectations, resulting in satisfaction rates that seem low by any other standard, but come on.

So here's my extremely biased (but to my mind accurate) take on the whole thing. The KMT would desperately like for there to be a real scandal to take down the DPP. They'd love it if the DPP actually took a major misstep or two. There are even things they could say about Tsai's tenure that I'm not entirely happy with either. Low wages and lack of paid time off for Taiwanese workers, a failure to meaningfully address Taiwan's increasingly broken water and energy systems, lack of sufficient forward movement on migrant exploitation -- and that's just off the top of my head. Knowing they can't promise to do any better and the public likely won't be whipped up into a frenzy over them, however, the KMT leaves those alone and goes for eggs.

After all, a great way to get a lot of Taiwanese voters angry very quickly is to imply there's something dangerous about the food supply. It never fails. 

Nevermind that the DPP has pledged to subsidize improvements in hatcheries to circumvent future potential shortages, something the KMT never seems to have done after past shortages have sounded warning bells about the state of the domestic egg industry. (If I'm wrong about this and the KMT has actually tried to help farmers upgrade their equipment, let me know, but I don't recall this ever being addressed). 

When a party acts as the opposition -- something the KMT never learned how to properly do -- their chief mandate is to hold the ruling party accountable. I haven't seen the KMT actually do this. Where is the push for better energy and water supply solutions? Where is the push for stronger defense forces? Where is the push for pay, working conditions and affordable housing that will encourage people to start families, along with improved immigration procedures as Taiwan's population ages? Where is the push for an improved social safety net?

Oh yeah, right, the KMT doesn't actually care about any of that. Energy doesn't matter because they just want nuclear -- but don't care enough to build public trust that the plants are safe, or safer plants with waste storage solutions that don't infringe on Indigenous land rights. They don't care about water, because...well, I don't know why but this issue is pretty fundamental so I assume it's because they don't care about Taiwan. They don't care about birthrates because they fundamentally don't understand why people aren't having children (I've heard discussions of this on talk shows and it's always some inane bullshit about 'kids these days' -- no, idiots, people need enough money and a good place to fucking live). They don't care about defense or stopping information warfare or cybersecurity because they want Taiwan to be subjugated by China.

So they turn to eggs, and take a non-issue to stir up some fucking bullshit election "controversy", pushing a good man to step down and falsely causing their base to believe there's some sort of scary danger in the food supply when there was none. Failing that, the most famously corrupt party in Taiwan's history implies DPP corruption without proof.

Not that the DPP doesn't have corruption -- of course it does -- but probably not in this specific instance.

And now egg prices are rising again. I've also noticed fewer eggs available at grocery stores -- great. What the hell does the KMT suggest be done about it? Nothing, it seems. 

And what else was the DPP supposed to do about the egg shortage? Just let prices remain high and eggs scarce? Taiwan apparently eats 20 million eggs a day -- I can't remember which media reported that number, but it's in one of the links above. That's almost one egg per person. They're important to the Taiwanese diet, and it makes sense to import when domestic production is adversely affected.

It's like the Medigen "controversy" all over again. Imply there was some corrupt dealing around imported vaccines, with no real proof. Then imply Medigen doesn't work (it does). Then imply that vaccines, not COVID itself, are the real danger (wrong, and dangerous). Then COVID waves continue to roll in and we're not as prepared as we could be. 

All because of a few bad eggs. 

A Paucity of “Blessings”: the KMT and what it means to be “credible opposition”

Screaming in stone?

It’s rare that I have not a single critical thing to say about the overall body of work of an expert or policy wonk focusing on Taiwan. However, a few people come close, and I’ve always admired the work of Kharis Templeman. He’s good at what he does, he’s clear and to the point, and he makes sense. I’ve never heard him say anything ridiculous about the US or Taiwan “provoking” China, among other claims I personally think are, well, deranged. He seems sensible. I’m on board.

So, I would like to begin this post by stating that all of it comes from a place of respect. I read his forthcoming “Blessings in Disguise: How Authoritarian Legacies and the China Factor Have Strengthened Democracy in Taiwan” and, well…to put it kindly, I was not entirely impressed. To be clear, most of the argumentation makes sense, and he doesn’t make any historical slips that I could find (you’d be surprised how often that happens with other scholars and researchers). 

That said, I have thoughts. I do think Taiwan needs at least two credible, stable, institutionalized parties. The DPP needs a strong rival to hold it accountable, and vice versa -- the DPP needs to hold its opposition accountable, as well. That other party is, and always has been, the KMT.

However, I see no reason why that strong opposition should necessarily continue to be the KMT. After reading Templeman's paper...

...I still don't. 

The core thesis is that the KMT is “good for Taiwanese democracy” by existing as an entrenched, institutionalized party with a core voting base and ability to govern within established systemic norms. 

This does make sense on its face: stability begets stability, and democracy is tied deeply enough to the will of the people that if there are not institutional factors at play, including disciplined, electable yet competitive parties, it’s easy for the whole thing to fall apart. It’s frightening how quickly one party might gain a stranglehold on power, or for the system to become so chaotic or unaccountable that it’s not clear what benefit ‘electing your leaders’ even has. 

Here's the thing, though: it’s just a little too close to ‘status quo for the sake of the status quo’ — what we have now is good because it’s stable, and change is to some extent inherently destabilizing. To be honest, there may be some truth to that. Not all change is good; even in the most flawed system, change can bring unfortunate consequences. 

But, as we’ve seen with Taiwan’s own democratic transition, change may be scary, chaotic and raw, and still need to happen. 

The DPP were once the outsiders, the upstarts, the ‘anti-system message’ guys. And now they’re institutionalized. 

In other words, upending the system, letting in newcomers and outsiders, destabilizing norms — these can be terrifying and have negative consequences alongside the positives. But a party may well only be an outsider or destabilizer…until it isn’t.

And a party may be a credible institutionalized rival...until it isn't. 

Thus, the argument that the KMT is good for Taiwan only holds for as long as they actually do have a strong voting base. It’s true only insofar as they remain competitive and can actually win every kind of election. That’s not assured: they can and do dominate at the local level, but nationally, their ability to actually win an election is, well, up for debate. At least for now. 

The second they lose their legitimacy, their base, their electability (especially at the national level), what then? Are they still “good for democracy” if they can’t provide a reasonable alternative to the DPP? I wouldn’t think so. 

Right now, the TPP, no matter how unclear their policies, seems to be presenting a credible threat to the KMT and is becoming truly competitive against the DPP. They’re “outsiders” now, but perhaps less so with an erstwhile Taipei mayoralty under their belt. They are already both in leadership and hot water in Hsinchu (corruption allegations), and Ko is giving the KMT's Hou a solid scare in the presidential race. 

What if the TPP actually makes it and becomes “institutionalized”? Will we need the KMT then? Or are they only a “blessing” for Taiwan as long as they’re credible? If the TPP actually does usurp the KMT’s competitiveness against the DPP, I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s good or bad — just different, and indicative of how far the KMT would have fallen. Certainly not a loss of any ‘blessing’ stemming from the authoritarian era. 

It makes sense that stable political parties that respect the norms of governance and remain competitive are good for democracy in general. As long as the KMT and DPP fit this bill but no other parties do, I can understand the argument. However, the moment another party becomes ‘institutionalized’ — credible, prosperous, competitive — what exactly is the benefit of the KMT in particular? Why should it be them specifically?

Templeman tries to make the argument that the KMT itself is “indispensable” as the opposition to the DPP, but this is where I found the paper weakest. 

Again, it is only ‘indispensable’ for as long as it remains stable, credible and competitive. And outsiders are only outsiders until they’re inside — like, oh, the DPP. And insiders only remain inside for as long as they can hold their place. On those fronts, Templeman seems more optimistic about the KMT’s future at the national level than I am. 

Let’s look a little deeper at the two points made here: one is that the KMT’s own disciplined party core forced the opposition, which lacked the KMT’s resources and institutional entrenchment, to also create a disciplined, organized hierarchy that (ironically, as he correctly notes) this meant that the DPP’s organizational structures mimicked the KMT, both of which are founded, basically, on Leninist norms of party structure. 

This is an accurate telling of history, but whether it’s a “blessing” depends on whether you think that particular party structure is ideal, or a good choice. I’m not an expert in Leninist party structures, so I’ll save that question for someone else, but in general I am not a fan of Leninist praxis. I do wonder if Taiwanese parties could perhaps do better than the model they were handed. 

I doubt the DPP is going anywhere, seeing as they hold both the presidency and the lead in the  upcoming election (keeping in mind that a lead this early on is not always easily kept). Furthermore, their general orientation regarding Taiwan’s sovereignty is much more in line with the general consensus. Whether or not Taiwan should — or even can — have “better relations” with Beijing is still up for debate, though I tend to think Beijing’s own attitude makes that impossible, not any specific policies of the DPP or KMT. However, on unification vs. independence and national identity, the DPP seems to be much closer to what a greater share of the electorate wants. 

As for the KMT? Well, would it be so bad if a party that was disciplined but had a novel party structure that didn’t follow the old China-imported Leninist paradigm usurped their position as chief competitor? Crucially, would political parties in Taiwan have been able to form disciplined institutional cores if the KMT had never come and shoved their ideology down Taiwan’s throat? 

I don’t know. Perhaps not. Assuming, however, that what happened was a ‘blessing’ sounds to me like making excuses for colonization. It’s along the lines of “the British Raj was terrible, but without them India wouldn’t have all that infrastructure, like railroads”. As though Indians would certainly not have been able to figure out railroads on their own. Perhaps geopolitical factors would have made such things harder to accomplish, but whether we’re discussing Taiwanese political parties or Indian railroads, they were by no means impossible without all the horrors that accompanied them. The horrors of the White Terror were not definitively necessary for Taiwan to blossom into the democracy it is today.

Templeman then focuses on the “China factor” — the fact that differing views on China remain the primary divide in Taiwanese politics. There’s nothing incorrect in this assessment, and the historical review was on-point. 

Well, on point with one caveat: the KMT doesn't continue to be one of the major opposition parties because of the "China factor", wherein there are two main poles to Taiwanese political affiliation, one pro-China and pro-Chinese identity and one wary of Beijing and Taiwan as part of some concept of "China". Rather, "the China Factor" exists because the KMT brought it to Taiwan. That, however, is a topic for another post.

However, the rise of the TPP in the current election cycle, ephemeral as their competitiveness may (or may not) be, was completely ignored. I’m not pro-TPP by any means, but this felt like a glaring omission when parties such as the NPP garnered mentions. The TPP doesn’t have a clear China policy, but then, neither did the KMT’s Hou You-yih until fairly recently. 

The China factor certainly matters, as much as we may wish it didn’t. However, it only matters for as long as it matters: if the electorate ever settles on a general consensus vis-a-vis China, that “divide” will suddenly boost the ability of one party to dominate. Although partisan identification shows some interesting changes, looking at fundamental support for pro-China policies vs. against them, my bet on where any such dominance might land is squarely in the pan-green camp. 

It’s not like support for unification is on the rise, and even DPP presidential candidate Lai Ching-te has said he would be open to dialogue with Beijing. The DPP openly states that Taiwan is “independent”, adding in a little “called the Republic of China” coda delivered with everything short of a wink wink, nudge nudge.

On the other side, I consistently see the KMT try to hide its more pro-China tendencies: they don’t dare openly state that they’re pro-unification, nor did they dare to speak against the 2019 Hong Kong protestors resisting the exact same government that they, the KMT, want to be closer to. They talk about the fake 92 Consensus, but can't admit that China never agreed to their interpretation that there are "differing interpretations". 

In fact, the KMT/DPP dichotomy, riven along pro/anti-China lines, has given rise to a large group of voters who simply dislike both parties. There are those disillusioned by the KMT but can’t fathom voting for the DPP, often due to a lifetime of pan-blue media inculcation that the DPP are “riffraff” and “troublemakers” — that is, they still don’t believe that the DPP are “institutionalized”. 

There are also those who are angry at the DPP’s failings, and to be sure it is not a perfect party. However, they’re adamant that Taiwan is certainly not part of China, and the thought of voting for the pro-China KMT, with its lingering scent of the authoritarian era, is an anathema to them. Basically, “the party I would typically vote for sucks, but the alternative is even worse!” 

(If that sounds a lot like some Americans pissed at both the Democrats and Republicans, well, it should.) 

If it’s a “blessing” for the two dominant parties to be the imperfect “they’re corrupt too!” DPP and the “but they murdered my uncle and insist I’m Chinese” KMT, then I’m not as optimistic for Taiwan’s future as Templeman is. I don’t think Taiwan’s democracy is in dire straits -- far from it -- but thinking of it in these terms makes it seem more troubled than I would otherwise believe, not less. 

Templeman continues by noting that the KMT is the “indispensable” foil to the DPP not only because they’ve managed to survive into the democratic era, but because they continue to have huge resources at their command. Is this actually true? As Donovan Smith recently noted, they’re still reporting funds effectively frozen by the transitional justice committee, and might actually be in danger of bankruptcy. I’ve heard multiple rumors over the past few years that they struggle to pay their own people. They have a legacy as one of the wealthiest political parties in the world, and certainly the wealthiest in Taiwan, but that may be more a memory than current fact. 

I’m deeply unconvinced by the next section: 

Commentators and academics in Taiwan, especially those sympathetic to the DPP, frequently bemoan the fact that the KMT survived into the democratic era and continues to play a leading role in politics (e.g. Baum & van der Wees, 2012; Hwang, 2016; Schafferer, 2010). In this view, the KMT’s authoritarian inheritance, including a murky collection of businesses, investment holding companies, buildings and land plots, and other assets that it acquired during the authoritarian era, have given the party an unfair advantage in contested elections; if the electoral playing field were really level, it would have faded into oblivion a long time ago. Thus, the current DPP government is justified in seeking to force the KMT to provide a full account of its finances and disgorge any ‘ill-gotten assets’ back to the state from which it acquired them. Yet the persistence of the KMT as a major electoral force, and in particular as a credible threat to retake power even after it lost control over the central government in 2000, has also had unambiguously positive consequences for the party system, and thus for democratic accountability. And if reformers push too hard to disrupt the current party system in a misguided attempt to resolve these ‘distortions’, they might end up doing more harm than good to Taiwan’s democracy in the long run. 

There’s a very obvious disconnect here: Templeman acknowledges that the KMT had (and has) “assets that it acquired during the authoritarian era, [giving] the party an unfair advantage in contested elections”, but then states that they are a legitimate party because they’re still “a credible threat to retake power”. Yes, they are — in great part because of all of those (erstwhile?) assets giving them an unfair advantage! That’s the whole point. 

It’s like saying “Yes, Brockton Squinglehopper III had some unfair advantages from his family’s massive wealth and privilege, but the fact that he is an adult now and is also massively wealthy and privileged is a sign that he earned it, and that’s positive!” How is it positive, exactly?

As for clientelism, both parties engage in it, but to me at least, it seems the KMT is the far more serious offender. Far from being held accountable, several years on they still don’t understand why preferential pension schemes for their major voting blocs had to be done away with. 

It’s not that the KMT has no true supporters: they do. But they have also had so many unfair advantages, from resources to control of the education system and media to actually being a long-term established party when Taiwan democratized, unlike the DPP. That they continued to win elections is, in part, evidence of how steeply the playing field was pitched — not an argument that it’s inconsequential.

It convinces me of two points only. First, that Taiwan needs credible opposition parties that are stable, disciplined and hold each other accountable. In the past, that has been the DPP and KMT. There is no reason, however, why it would be best for the KMT to continue to dominate over newer parties. The best I can say is that they historically have done so; I don't see a solid argument for why it would be best for that to continue, if the newer party can be just as credible, competitive and respectful of democratic norms. 

Again, a party is only “institutionalized” while it remains competitive, and it’s only an “outsider” until it’s inside. 

Certainly, the KMT cannot be forcibly done away with, and not all third-party opposition is necessarily positive. I see no problem, however, with the KMT dying a slow, natural death as its pro-China views simply fail to garner sufficient support to remain competitive, and its stolen assets are rightfully given back to the nation.

I also have a problem with the idea that both parties are equally committed to Taiwanese democracy. Templeman doesn't say this, but he seems to assume it as a prerequisite for all those "blessings". The KMT kicked out the guy who played the biggest role in democratizing Taiwan (Lee Teng-hui), and plenty of the deepest blue KMTers would happily sell Taiwan to China tomorrow. "You can't eat democracy" and all that. Are they really committed to Taiwan, by any name, as a sovereign nation not united with the PRC? Are they really committed to democracy? I remain unconvinced, because the KMT's own actions have been unconvincing.

I do not think Taiwan’s democracy is rotting away, and I don’t think the KMT should be — or needs to be — actively excised from the political system. But I do not see the authoritarian era as much of a “blessing”. And certainly, I agree that not all change is good, not all outsiders are positive forces, and political parties need credible rivals so that each side may be held accountable to good governance and institutional norms. I agree that the China divide is the primary dividing point in Taiwanese politics. 

However, the KMT’s pro-China orientation, especially the unificationism they try and fail so hard to hide, rapid loss of once-stolen resources, continuing clientelist tendencies and and inability to be accountable for their own authoritarian past all point to one thing: the DPP needs credible opposition, but there is still no reason whatsoever why that has to be the KMT. 

The KMT holds that position right now, but I see no good argument for why they should continue to do so, especially if they die a natural death at the hands of public opinion and a new credible party arises to take their place. 

Templeman's paper is an excellent argument for the historical and political forces that help explain why Taiwanese democracy is the way it is -- everything that's led the country to its present political state, and the benefits of it. It is not a strong argument for the KMT continuing to hold its current status. Even if some of the past they inflicted on Taiwan turned out to have benefits, that’s not an argument for their continued position as one of the two main parties in Taiwan. That position can only be conferred by one force: the electorate. I don’t know which way that current will carry us, but my money’s not on the KMT. 

The 1992 Consensus is fake and Terry Gou sucks

Terry Gou, showing his entire ass on the fabricated "1992 Consensus"

It's sort of a "thing" for Taiwanese leaders and presidential hopefuls to publish opinion pieces in major American newspapers. The purpose isn't just to raise international awareness but to make the case to the world, in English, for why they should lead the country or why their vision for Taiwan's future is in the world's best interests. 

I'm not sure many would-be leaders of other countries find it important to do this, but Taiwan is in a unique enough geopolitical position that, right or wrong, Taiwanese leaders feel the need to garner not just local but global support and justify both themselves and -- frankly -- Taiwan's continued existence to the world. 

So far, William Ching-te Lai has had his moment in the Wall Street Journal. WSJ's subscription fees are far too high, but it can be read with a translation here (on Facebook) and a summary on RTI. It's pretty standard, an attempt to project stability and maturity as the DPP seeks to transition from a Tsai administration to one headed by Lai. Stability matters to the party named -- possibly apocryphally -- "troublemakers".  It's not a fair description: like or dislike the DPP, the only thing "troublesome" about them is that they have consistently championed Taiwanese identity and their fundamental perspective on Taiwan now mirrors the majority consensus. Basically, okay, cool. But not that interesting. 

As far as I know the KMT's Hou and TPP's Ko have not published anything similar -- I've been busy and in poor health recently, so if I've missed something let me know -- but Foxconn chairman, Guy Who Wants To Be President and all-around massive asshole Terry Gou has, in the Washington Post. Again, you can read a summary on RTI, including a response by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

It's exactly what you'd expect: we need the One China framework as a means to push forward talks with China, accepting the 1992 Consensus as a standing and valid framework, and pursuing peace by negotiating directly with China. He insists this is how Taiwan can preserve all it holds dear and China need not be an enemy -- forgetting of course that China has made it clear that their only goal is to annex Taiwan, there are no "talks" or bargains that will change this goal, and that we already know what happens when China promises to respect local governance...thanks to watching the tragedy of Hong Kong.

Overall, I have little to say about this that Michael Turton hasn't already said on Twitter. Turton points out that Gou's policy position was the standard between 2008 and 2016, under Ma Ying-jeou. You know, the least popular elected president in Taiwan's admittedly short democratic history. That policy not only failed -- China did not back off its ultimate subjugationist goal, the economy did not improve, and "talks" led basically to trussing up Taiwan to prepare it for annexation -- but it wasn't popular, either. 

In fact, to me that's one of the key points: Gou tries to make "abandoning" the "One China framework" the actions of an errant DPP, a political ploy. He completely fails to register that Taiwan does not pursue talks under a "One China" framework because the people of Taiwan do not want it. The vast majority do not want to be part of China. Most consider the status quo to be sufficient qualification to consider Taiwan independent. A large majority do not identify as Chinese at all, and those that identify as both almost always prioritize Taiwanese identity. Almost no one identifies as solely Chinese, and almost no one wants to move toward unification. 

This isn't the dastardly DPP's doing. It's the general consensus of the Taiwanese electorate. 

I recommend reading the whole thread, but here's my favorite bit: 

10/ (a) Taiwan is supposed to take control of its destiny ... by annexing itself to a giant expansionist power. History has no examples of states swallowed by a much larger power "taking control of their destiny" ..

— michaelturton (@michaelturton) July 18, 2023

Indeed, history has no such examples of states successfully surviving by allowing themselves to be swallowed by an expansionist neighbor. 

There's another thing worth talking about though. It's referenced often but, to my mind, not broken down enough. Gou leans strongly on the 1992 Consensus, supposedly an agreement reached between representatives from Taiwan and China that both sides agreed that there was indeed "one China", and provided a basis, apparently perpetually, for cross-strait interaction.

So let's talk about the 1992 Consensus, or more accurately, why the 1992 Consensus is a fabrication. It's utter horseshit. Made-up. Not real. Fairy dust. A joke. Bupkis. 

Gou's article unwittingly acknowledges this: 

The current Democratic Progressive Party leadership has only made the situation more tense. Under the so-called 1992 Consensus, Taiwan and China agreed to accept the framework of “one China” — although the parties have differing interpretations of that term — and held discussions that over the years resulted in a number of productive agreements. 

If the two sides cannot agree on what the term "one China" means, then they fundamentally did not agree to accept the same framework. They can't even agree on what the framework is. So, that's not a consensus!

If you can't agree on the meaning of a term that defines your framework, then saying "we agree to the framework" is meaningless, both functionally and semantically. For there to be a consensus on "one China" of any sort, the two sides would have needed to agree on what "one China" means. They didn't. So, no consensus:

According to the piece from the former deputy chair of Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) and deputy chair of the Straits Exchange Foundation (SEF), they “reached a consensus with respect to the content of the agreement, but the Mainland insisted on putting the ‘one China’ principle in the preface of the agreement, but Taiwan strongly opposed this provision.”

“The agreement” referred to above is a 1991 negotiation on document authentication and registered mail between the two countries, basic communications. But the PRC insisted that even something so trivial and basic include the PRC’s “one China” definition. The KMT side rejected that.

Kao’s discussion observes that at the November 1992 meeting in Hong Kong both sides made five proposals but each rejected the other’s ideas. The KMT side followed up with three more proposals, but those too fell on deaf ears. The PRC delegation returned to the PRC.

“Therefore,” says Kao, “no consensus was reached during the 1992 talks as the negotiations broke down.”

China has not even said that they agree that there are, or can be, "differing interpretations" of the term "one China"! For the two sides to say that they agreed in 1992 that there was such a thing as "one China" but the details of what that is need to be worked out, well, that would be some kind of agreement, though not a full consensus. But they didn't even do that -- you can't say "the two sides disagree on the interpretation but there is a consensus" when the two sides don't even agree that it is possible to disagree on interpretation!

Even the Mainland Affairs Council recognizes that China has never agreed with either the KMT's interpretation or even the possibility that such an interpretation could exist:

The MAC indicated that, during the formal meeting between the leaders of the two sides on November 7, President Ma directly told the Mainland leader that the consensus reached by the two sides in November 1992 was that "the two sides of the Taiwan Strait insist on 'one China,' but differ as to what that means, and each side could express its interpretation verbally." This position accords with the ROC Constitution. President Ma has been consistent in his stance on the "1992 Consensus of one China, with respective interpretations." The core of this position is to highlight the ROC's sovereignty and Taiwan's dignity. The Mainland should seriously and pragmatically face up to this. [Emphasis mine.]

If China "should...face up to" what the 1992 Consensus means, then it has not actually accepted the KMT's definition of what the consensus even is. If you can't agree on the content of a consensus, it is not a consensus.

All this assumes that the agreement took place at all. Meetings were indeed held in 1992. But it's telling that there is no documentation from that time saying there was indeed a consensus reached, or what it was. The term itself did not entire the lexicon until 2000, when it was fabricated by the KMT operative to, in his words, "decrease tensions" (more likely it was fabricated to try and hurt the DPP's election prospects). 

Lee Teng-hui was president in 1992 when this "consensus" supposedly took place. What did he say about the guy who made up the term?

Su made the remarks yesterday in response to Lee who, during a Taiwan Solidarity Union seminar on Monday, said that the so-called "1992 consensus" was a fiction.

"Little monkey boy's trying to make up history," Lee said of Su, daring him to respond on the matter.

I know the KMT stopped respecting Lee Teng-hui a long time ago, but "we don't like that that guy turned out to be pro-Taiwan" isn't good enough reason to discount his view on the matter. Lee was indeed the unelected president when these meetings happened in 1992 (direct presidential elections began in 1996). He surely would have known of any true "consensus" arising in 1992. 

This is, of course, why nothing I've found written about Taiwanese history or democratization between 1992 and 2000 mentions the supposedly "historic" consensus. Odd, if said consensus actually happened, and was as important as the KMT and Gou insist it is.

He directly said it did not, and called the guy who made up the term a "little monkey boy"! 

The final reason why the 1992 Consensus is a fiction isn't so much that it never existed (though it never did), but that even if it did, it was an agreement reached not between Taiwan and China, representing the will of their respective populations. It was a meeting between the KMT and CCP -- political parties in power, but not elected. If we're being generous and saying it was two governments, not two parties, that met in 1992, it still doesn't matter.

China has remained a dictatorship but Taiwan, notably, has not. Agreements reached by the KMT dictatorship before democratization cannot and should not be forced on Taiwanese in perpetuity, in a democratic system where they have the right to reject the work of past dictators. The people of Taiwan never agreed to this "one China" framework. They were never given a say. Now, they have a say in their own government, so it's wrong to insist that all of the One China nonsense set in motion by the KMT must be forever binding. 

Why should it be? I can't think of a single good reason. If the people of Taiwan don't want it, then that should be that. I think after the disaster of Ma's administration and the success of Tsai's, and the fact that polls consistently show low support for pro-China rhetoric, shows that the electorate does not want "one China" anything. 

If they did, then that might be different. But they don't, and probably won't -- ever again, if they ever did. This isn't "because of the DPP'" or something the DPP brainwashed people into thinking: changing perspectives on sovereignty and identity have famously not followed electoral trends. If anything, the trends have brought the DPP to power, not the other way around.

That, again, assumes there actually was a consensus, leading to a framework. To repeat, there wasn't.  The only thing we can say with certainty is that representatives of the KMT and CCP dictatorships held meetings in 1992 -- not even the outcome of those meetings is clear. 

So if it's such garbage, why is Gou spewing it in the Washington Post? This is clearly not for Taiwanese, who mostly think the 1992 Consensus is not a real thing (because it isn't), or they believe it's real because they have to in order to keep their faith in the KMT. I kind of understand this: if your family gave up their life in China to flee to Taiwan with the Nationalists, it must be difficult or impossible to admit that they based their entire lives in Taiwan on a lie about the horror that the KMT really were. 

Taiwanese also know that no, "Beijing, Washington and Taipei" do not "share responsibility" for current tensions. They're not Washington Post readers predisposed to believing that the US is terrible so China must be alright, and Taiwan sure sounds troublesome. They're caught in this conflict, and they know exactly who is to blame: Beijing, and Beijing alone. They know who the provocateur is: Beijing, and Beijing alone. Not Taipei for simply wanting to govern itself in peace, and not Washington for thinking, finally, after all these years, Taiwanese have this right.

Gou is saying this for low-context or low-information readers, who might not care who becomes president of Taiwan, but might be persuaded that there's popular support for a "one China framework" in Taiwan (there isn't), and that this Terry Gou fellow therefore talks sense, unlike those DPP troublemakers. He's banking on the average American reader's lack of context to peddle some 1992 Consensus street drugs: after all, if you're a low-context reader talking to other low-context readers at a dinner party or happy hour, you sure sound smart if you know what the "1992 Consensus" even is! You probably didn't even think about whether Taiwanese wanted this or why the chairman of Foxconn is saying it in the Washington Post to get your attention at all. 

In doing so, he wants to show the KMT leadership that he can command US attention, because this man still wants to be president, even though he'd be terrible at it (his own workers hate him; do you really want to be a citizen under his leadership?)  The KMT still peddles 1992 Consensus snake oil, so this must sound like music to them as their own candidate falters in the polls and doesn't seem to be trying to win the election at all. If not to replace Hou outright, Gou at least wants a VP nod, or some other candy. 

WaPo probably should have fact-checked this better, but frankly, they were never going to. If someone like Gou sends them an opinion piece, they'll publish it because it seems like just "opinion", and he's prominent enough. Even if they tried, there isn't enough clear information on the 1992 Consensus out there: I could see a low-context fact checker deciding it might be a real thing, and letting it stand. 

So it's our job as informed readers to sniff out horseshit when we see it. And what Gou is trying to sell you is absolutely that. 

Hou You-yih: Just, like, my opinion, man

The KMT: promising a deep bucket of candy they can't deliver since 1945 (or earlier)

I have been so busy lately that keeping up with Taiwanese politics as presidential campaigns kick into gear has been a challenge in itself. Having opinions is tiring; distilling them into coherent points and typing those points out feels insurmountable. It hardly matters: there are so many insights from sharper people than me that you can read, including Donovan Smith, Chieh-ting Yeh and reporting from Nectar Gan, who does the "Taiwan history blurb" better than just about any journalist. If you're still writing "since 1949" in your articles, stop, read Gan's version, and yell at your editor. (Trust me, if they're the "amid rising tensions, China is provoked" type, they deserve it.) 

But I do have opinions, watching the Year in Taiwan Politics unfold as I try to just exist and make all the moving parts of my life cohere into some sort of forward-moving apparatus. Today, I feel like sharing my opinion on the KMT presidential candidate Hou You-yih.

Hou is...interesting. He was chosen by fiat -- for the primary, party chair Eric Chu essentially grabbed the gavel and shouted "Mine! I choose!" But also not: it seems quite clear that Chu doesn't care for Hou personally or politically. I think he'd prefer himself, or some other born-to-be-blue descendant of the China '49ers, certainly not someone who doesn't always toe the party line as envisioned by, say, Ma Ying-jeou. When Chu has all the power, why choose Hou? 

Because, of course, Chu thinks Hou can win. Even when you have all the power, and no matter how deeply embedded your dismissiveness and condescension toward people with ancestral Taiwanese roots, in a democracy you still have to take seriously the person who might be able to win over the public. 

I should be at least mildly relieved: the other big name candidate was Foxconn chair and general asshole-about-town Terry Gou, whose message centers Taiwan's economic development but doesn't even try to hide his slavering desire to sell Taiwan to China for his own "everyone's" profit. Gou tried to position himself as the potential CEO of Taiwan, but all he ever inspired in me was the sort of visceral hatred you have for your worst-ever boss. After all, there are many types of "successful" CEO: the ones who care about both people and business and foster supportive and satisfying work environments, and the ones who focus entirely on money and don't care that their company is a shit place to work.

There's a reason Foxconn has a reputation for a place you park yourself for awhile to make bank, but not a good place to work long-term. Thus, it could be deduced that he might be focused on money, but he wouldn't make Taiwan a better place to live.  For obvious reasons, I absolutely did not want to be any kind of employee in Gou's promised Taiwan, Inc. 

Hou, in comparison, seems like the less-terrifying choice. Apparently, he was once considered a potential DPP recruit. Thus far he's mostly avoided professing the deep-blue pro-China nonsense that disgusts me and turns off most Taiwanese (support for unification with China enjoys no meaningful support, and most Taiwanese don't identify as Chinese). Some of his comments have been pretty sus, though -- for example, that "the Republic of China is a cup, Taiwan is the water", which I won't even dignify with a response. Do enjoy this meme, though:

I could point to other substantive reasons why I don't care for Hou: for example, while I didn't like Mayor Ko, I can't deny that Taipei improved in some measurable ways under his leadership. New Taipei under Hou? Friends who live there complain of sidewalks, where they exist, paved with slippery kitchen tiles, a reduced but still overly-prevalent gang presence and public transit options that have improved but remain frustrating (for example, there are still very few straight-shot transit routes from Luzhou to Taipei; most meander in circles). 

Does it really matter, though? I think we all know that I just don't like the KMT because I think Taiwan is clearly already independent, and the KMT thinks it is some iteration of "China". I am against mass murder; the KMT makes ridiculous excuses for its mass murders in decades past. 

I don't particularly like the DPP's Lai Ching-te, but I simply wouldn't support any candidate the KMT chose, ever. In their current form, any KMT candidate would be too sympathetic to China and not sufficiently willing to defend Taiwan to the last. I'm willing to admit my bias, and I am not even remotely sorry. 

The deepest greens will point to one of Hou's greatest historical mistakes: his involvement in the death of activist, writer and Taiwan independence supporter Nylon Deng. As a police captain, Hou led the raid on Deng's office, which led to Deng's self-immolation. 

Image of Nylon Deng from an exhibit at the Tainan Fine Arts Museum (since ended)

Hou has said he was "just following orders" and it was his duty to uphold "justice", regardless of the "party in charge". He's said he doesn't have any regrets. 

I don't think Hou should go to jail. I don't think he should be excommunicated from Taiwanese society. I think, given appropriate contrition, forgiveness is possible: after all, Hou did not directly murder Deng. 

However, I do not think a man such as Hou should be the president of Taiwan, now or ever. 

The Nylon Deng Memorial Foundation has pointed out that before his death, Deng said "they can only take my body, they will never take me alive" -- sending a clear message about what would happen in just this circumstance. One might argue that a suicide threat should not prevent the police from "doing their job", but I do believe Hou had the means to understand that message and thus the likely consequences of his actions at the time. When he says the police mission had "also been about saving a life" but was "not successful", the disingenuousness is palpable. He knew that the mission in fact caused a death, and he had the necessary information to predict it would happen.

I do believe, somewhere deep down, Hou You-yih has the ability to understand what it means to be ethical and principled. In 1989, he had knowledge to understand that what he was doing was wrong. On some level, I suspect he surely knew that he was not upholding "justice" and doing it "regardless of party". I can't prove this, but I think Hou knew that the law Deng allegedly broke, which precipitated the mission, was not just. 

Of course, people act in ways they know are wrong and unjust all the time, and justify it to themselves. "Just following orders". "My boss told me to do it." "That's the rule." I'm the sort of person who will walk away from just about anything if I believe it is wrong, whether that's a toxic person harming others, or a workplace whose actions I cannot defend. Certainly I know people who've said they might do something against their principles if it's necessary to keep their job. Okay -- but they're not running for president. 

A worthy leader needs to know and be able to elucidate right from wrong. They need an inner fortitude that carries them through a clear reflection on their past actions, and the ability to admit they acted unjustly. They need to at least acknowledge the existence of the truth, even if their political career forces them to skirt a direct confrontation. 

When they know something is not right, they need to focus on the steps required to improve the situation. Their solutions may not be perfect, but they need to at least be headed down a vaguely correct path. For example, President Tsai has been fairly weak on labor rights, hasn't delivered quite the necessary changes in immigrant rights and is perhaps somewhat weak on energy policy. But she's oriented in more or less the right direction, and that's good enough for me. It has to be.

And when they see something is truly, deeply wrong, they need to own up to that. This may require walking away. The people I want to lead Taiwan would walk away from their cop job because they were fully aware that the actions they were ordered to carry out were a miscarriage of justice. They'd walk away because regardless of the law, it was wrong -- not for partisan reasons, but ethical ones.

Of course, I'm not stupid. I know Hou would never have done the right thing. Most people wouldn't. It doesn't make them wholly irredeemable. But then, most people aren't trying to be president.

The future president of Taiwan needs a certain strength of character which, from his own statements, Hou does not possess. To point to your "orders" or call something "justice" that you know is unjust is to be weak. 

To be asked about it years later and remain unrepentant makes forgiveness impossible. He could have done better. I cannot imagine ever supporting a KMT candidate, but I wouldn't be so deeply averse to him if he could just face the past honestly and clarify that he understands what justice means -- to admit that he now understands that the law was wrong, and he erred in carrying it out.

Right now, it is not at all clear that he indeed does know what justice means, or perhaps he doesn't care. And a leader who doesn't understand or care about justice is exactly the sort of spineless jellyfish leader who would surrender Taiwan to China without a fight because he was ordered to do so by a sufficiently threatening entity. I don't think Hou would abjectly or directly hand Taiwan to China in the way Terry Gou so clearly wants to, or Ma Ying-jeou tried to, up to and including his solo acoustic 2023 China Jackboot Apology Tour (which probably gave the KMT heart palpitations -- they don't like to say the quiet part quite that loud).

Hou isn't Ma or Gou -- but he wouldn't be Taiwan's greatest defender, either. 

I'm not Taiwanese. Nylon Deng's history is not my history -- but not even I can forgive this, simply because I know right from wrong. Hou is weak, and he is wrong. In refusing to reflect honestly on his past actions, he shows a lack of principles, spine and character.

Hou You-yih may not be an entirely terrible person, but he is a weak man with a weak character who is not fit to lead the country. 

Chiang Wan-an, Chiang Ching-kuo and 228

Let me be upfront: this is an off-the-cuff post that I honestly need to research more. When I have the time, I'll try to update it accordingly. Please understand, I have a huge writing assignment coming due and have just been diagnosed with diabetes resulting from post-COVID complications, so I'm not as focused as I should be. 

With that said, I want to talk about Taipei Mayor Wayne Wan-an Chiang, his grandfather Chiang Ching-kuo, and the 228 Massacre. While speaking at a 228 memorial event today, Chiang was heckled by protesters waving white banners and demanding he "kneel and apologize" for the crimes of his ancestors. Other protesters -- legislators Lin Liang-chun, Wu Pei-yi and Miao Po-ya -- held signs in the audience saying "Stop Idolizing Dictators", "Return Records to the State" and "Remove Authoritarian Symbols" (my translation). 

Miao, on point as usual, said that authoritarian symbols (such as Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall) have no place in a democracy, that Mayor Chiang's speech was full of well-worded rhetoric but "beautiful words don't matter as much as what the words actually do", that many families were not participating in commemorative activities due to deep sadness, and that truth, justice and reconciliation in that order are vital for transitional justice. 

One might say that it's unfair to demand that Chiang, grandson of one dictator and great-grandson of another, apologize for the crimes of his ancestors. He is not the same person as his ancestors, and he was on stage acknowledging the fact of the 228 Massacre.

No, not the 228 "Incident". Massacre.

There is an alternate universe somewhere in which I agree with this: it's the one where Chiang is still surnamed Chang despite legal agreement that he is the grandson of Chiang Ching-kuo, but chose not to change his name because he understood the implications. It's the one where he ran for mayor without tying his legacy to the memory of Chiang Ching-kuo who was, again, a dictator. It's the one where he acknowledged the crimes against humanity committed by both of his legally-recognized ancestors, and promised that truth, justice and reconciliation without idolizing one of them or attempting to draw on his name.

That's not the universe we live in. We live in the one where he puts Mass Murder Grandpa on his campaign flags.

Still, you might say, the Chiang whose reputation he called upon to bolster his own campaign wasn't the perpetrator of 228. Chiang Ching-kuo wasn't the same as his father.

That, I must say, is a distinction without a difference. First of all, although it's true that even Mayor Chiang understands that Chiang Kai-shek's image should not be on his campaign flags, he absolutely stands for the continued existence of his great-grandfather's memorial hall with its statue in situ -- a memorial hall built to make him seem like a great man, not the butcher he was. That is, a memorial hall that continues to enshrine the worst of the KMT dictatorship and obscure, not confront, the worst of its horrors. 

That should be enough, but wait -- there's more! Chiang Ching-kuo, the ancestor that Chiang Wan-an idolized so much that he put the guy on his campaign flags, might not have been the chief perpetrator of 228, but it's wrong to say he wasn't involved at all. 

After the slaughter had begun, he arrived in Taiwan on March 17, 1947: 

By the 17th, the Army were declaring victory. Defense Minister Bai Chongxi (白崇禧) arrived in Taiwan with the generalissimo's son, Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國), and wired a message to Chiang Kai-shek that "order is mostly restored, and we are in pursuit of the last remaining rebels that joined forces with armed thugs.”

It's more likely than not that Chiang agreed with this depiction of events -- one in which the victims ("thugs" and "rebels") were at fault and the government was "restoring order". 

NewTalk describes his work around March 17th as "telegraphing the arrest list", after which further crackdowns were carried out. Is NewTalk the definitive source on this? Not necessarily, but Chiang was with Bai and others in Taiwan to deal with 228. The arrests and executions -- both organized against dissidents and indiscriminate -- continued. Chiang's hands are not clean.

After their arrival, Bai and Chiang toured the island, visiting Keelung, Chiayi and Kaohsiung among other places. I mention these cities specifically because they're known for being places where the KMT committed especially egregious massacres. Chiang and Bai visited Chiayi the midst of mass executions taking place in that city. Did he personally order the executions? Probably not, as some occurred before his arrival. Many, however, occurred after, including the execution of 70 individuals in Chiayi. 

Did he know about them and approve? Surely.

Some of those executed were tortured as well. Thinking Taiwan describes the treatment of Dr. Pan Mu-chi, who had his nails pierced with iron and was doused in gasoline.

If the son of the dictator visits a city with the Defense Minister in the midst of mass executions, broadcasts a message following the wishes of his father, allegedly telegraphs an arrest list, and then that many people are executed if not heinously tortured, how can one possibly say that that dictator's son holds no culpability?

Let's move to Kaohsiung. Here's Chiang shoulder-to-shoulder with Peng Meng-chi, known as the "Butcher of Kaohsiung". I took it from Taiwan Gazette, but it's also available on Imgur: 

Best Buddies

Here's what Peng did: 

The narration describes Taiwan governor Chen Yi as the main culprit, along with Peng Meng-chi (彭孟緝), the garrison commander, who gave the order to the military to attack the train station, the Kaohsiung Middle School, the Kaohsiung Municipal Government and to shoot all the city councilors, who were in the process of negotiating a settlement for the 228 Massacre.

Here's more: 

In Kaohsiung, where protests had also broken out, fortress commander Peng Meng-chi (彭孟緝) was losing patience. On the 6th, Peng gave orders to move on protesters that had gathered at the train station, city hall and Kaohsiung Senior High school. Three of Kaohsiung’s most prominent community members were arrested and later executed, including Tu Kuang-ming (涂光明), Fan Tsang-jung (范滄榕) and Tseng Fengmin (曾豐明).

Peng's Kaohsiung massacre happened on March 6th, Chiang Ching-kuo arrived on the 17th, after it had taken place. They seem extremely friendly. What are the chances that Chiang either didn't know or didn't approve of Peng's actions?

Chiang would go on to become the head of secret police, helping his father carry out the White Terror. For decades before he was said to usher in democracy (an honor he does not deserve), he wrote consistently of his disdain for democratic elections and Taiwanese identity, calling them useless, tools of the "Communist bandits" and others who seek to divide the state. He stated that the opposition should never be allowed to form a political party, and that Taiwan independence activists were "reactionaries" supported by those same "Communist bandits" who "sought to turn small issues into big ones" (you know, such as recognition of the mass murder of their loved ones) with "insidious and vicious scheming". 

His bestie, The Butcher of Kaohsiung, would become the head of the Taiwan Garrison Command among other high-ranking or honorable political placements. 

These words and actions may not be directly related to 228, but they spring from the uncaring, trigger-happy attitude to Taiwan that both helped cause 228, and became that event's legacy for decades to come. There is no evidence that Chiang Ching-kuo was ever remorseful for what his government had done, or his role in it. That role may be dwarfed by the actions of Chiang Kai-shek or Chen Yi, but he did play a role, and that matters.

Where does that leave us with his grandson, the mayor? 

Well, when you take a man like Chiang Ching-kuo and make him one of the main thrusts of your campaign for political office, you best be willing to acknowledge and atone for his sins, as well. Some still hold residual goodwill towards Chiang Ching-kuo for his infrastructure projects, perceived role in the Taiwan Miracle and the notion that he helped usher in democratization (he did not). Chiang Wan-an very obviously wanted to capitalize on this, to stir nostalgia for the "good old days" in oldsters, at least the ones who never had a family member dragged off and shot.

Otherwise, as a friend put it, Wan-an wants all the advantages of being a Chiang, with none of the downsides. That's not how these things should work. It is ethically wrong to grasp for one while refusing to acknowledge the other. If he wants to connect his political career to his grandfather's legacy, that must include the entirety of said legacy; there's no ethical way to pick and choose.

If Chiang doesn't want to be held accountable for this, he should take his Mass Murder Grandpa's face off all his damn flags. If you want the face of the man to be one of the faces of your campaign, you should indeed "kneel and apologize" for all of the horrible things he did. If that sounds unappealing, well, there's a reason why.

Chiang Wan-an is not only not "clearing authoritarian symbols" as Miao Po-ya demanded and any reasonable person would want. He is quite literally using them to climb the political ladder. That is disgusting and Chiang should be ashamed of himself. Kneel and apologize. 

Until then, others should follow the Taiwan 228 Care Association's example and make him persona non grata at 228 events. I don't care if he's the mayor.

As that's not likely, just imagine there's a sign on his forehead that says "heckle me harder", because that's what Chiang Wan-an deserves.

The Newest Taiwanese

A long and unclear path

As the November elections neared, the social media posts piled up. Things like "Can't wait to vote for the first time in Taiwan!" and "Voting in my first Taiwanese election!"

A few years ago, I didn't know many dual citizens who were not born Taiwanese, and of them not a single one who could vote. As the shadows grew long on 2022, however, it became clear that something had shifted. Changes to the laws surrounding dual nationality enacted in 2017 were starting to bear some modest fruit: a small but significant minority of people I know were posting last month about how excited they were to vote in a Taiwanese election for the first time.

I was genuinely happy for them, in that friendly envious way that bears no ill will. To me, they represented small dots of light: these friends, for example, don't all come from the same background. Some work in business, some are academics, some in tech, and some do work for the government. Most have indeed acquired dual nationality, although one chose to renounce their original citizenship. Before 2017, there was essentially no path to dual nationality if one had no Taiwanese heritage. Post-naturalization, one could petition to regain their original citizenship, but not all countries grant it (the United States certainly doesn't). Or, finding Jesus and building a life as a missionary was always an option: perhaps as a nonagenarian the government might bestow the honor.

Now, anyone deemed a "foreign senior professional" -- a classification that differs from Gold Card-eligible "foreign special professionals" -- has a pathway to becoming Taiwanese. The eligibility requirements remain restrictive -- perhaps unfairly so -- but at least there is a path.

I thought, with the election well behind us, that it would be interesting to talk to some of these newest citizens about what it was like to acquire citizenship, what challenges they faced and how it felt to vote. Some agreed to have their real names published; others asked to remain anonymous.

Participating in Democracy

The first thing that jumped out from everyone I talked to was a passion for participating in the democratic process. Ben Homnick, formerly a vice president at a technology company in Taiwan, summarized it well: "I think it finally hit home," he said, "when I was walking back from the voting booth, and I realized that I finally have the ability to participate in the political process of the place that I’ve been calling home for more than ten years. Whether or not I agree with the outcome of the election, at least I have some measurable amount of responsibility for what those outcomes are."

Kerim Friedman, a professor at National Donghwa University, said he found personal meaning in voting for the first time. "For me, voting is kind of an important civic ritual," he said. "I’ve watched Taiwan, I came here for the first time in 1991 right after it had just democratized, so watching Taiwan’s transition to democracy has been a major part of my life intellectually and personally, having been here observing it."

"I was in tears," said Uma, who gave up her original nationality. (Uma is a pseudonym; she preferred to remain anonymous.) "I left [my native country] when I was a kid, I've never actually been back during elections." Uma's country of origin doesn't allow absentee voting. "I've always wanted to be part of the democratic process."

Jerome Keating, voting for his first time in Taiwan put it this way, "If you believe in democracy, and care for the place where you live, you want to be part of the process." 

Some voting experiences were more neutral. Another friend, "Ted" (a pseudonym), works in the tech industry. He said he expected voting to "feel like a triumphant rite of passage." But when actually going through with it, he described the process as "largely confusing and empty. Despite spending many hours preparing, there was much that was novel. There were a lot of assumptions they didn't explain -- I didn't realize you couldn't take anything into the booth with you and I didn't realize the city council was FTPT [first past the post] with a multi-member district. The ballot doesn't list party affiliation...even though I prepared, I didn't know the numbers of my candidates, and was a bit lost without the parties [as there was no guide allowed in the voting booth]."

Uma agreed. Although she speaks Mandarin, she believes that "Taiwan needs to have more information for people who don’t speak Chinese. People didn’t know how many council people to vote for, and I wasn’t the only one. I asked how many people to vote for, and they said just one. And I was glad I asked that question."

Friedman described the process as "remarkably quick." He said, "You take all these papers and stamp them and put them in the boxes. I was surprised, I’ve voted in the states. It’s also often in schools in New York City, but I’ve always had to wait on line. There was no line at all, it was just in and out." 

Friedman had no issue as a foreigner voting for the first time. "I twas all very cute and they stamped me, as I was at the counter and they were stamping me, the two women were speaking Chinese and I heard something about foreigners but they were all nice and polite and it was very quick."

Homnick and Uma also described the process as very fast. Uma added that with more and more foreigners gaining the right to vote, election workers didn't appear to be very surprised by her presence. There are guides -- Uma mentioned that there's a guide outside the booths that describes what is a valid or invalid vote, and the boxes where you place the various ballots are all color-coded, and there are people around to tell you what to do. Before the election, all eligible voters receive a newspaper-like bundle describing the candidates, with a picture, party affiliation and space for each to extol their platforms. The same paper is also displayed at the polling place.

However, that doesn't necessarily mean the process will be clear to dual nationals. "One Taiwanese guy tore his up, he was on the news. Two new immigrants form Hong Kong they brought theirs out. They were brought to the police station," Uma said.

Despite some of these issues, the overall feeling was jubilant. "In the US we’re so used to doing this. But inTaiwan [if you can't vote], you feel like you’re a passenger. You’re watching the election with your friends on election night, you’re kind of passive about it. Actually having some skin in the game, it feels different," Homnick observed. 

"I was definitely elated to put my vote in," Keating added.

Becoming 'The Newest Taiwanese'

The actual process of getting Taiwanese citizenship and emotions around acquiring it seemed to influence how these new citizens felt about participating in the 2022 election. 

Ted said he "didn't expect citizenship would change" how he felt or how his life worked. "I just wanted to belong. Boy, was I wrong. I feel like a totally different person. The US has fully become 'the old country'," he said. 

One example is his attitude toward US policies. "I noticed that it made me way more ambivalent," he continued. "I wouldn't say my US politics have changed. I like Millenial socialism in theory, but find actual Millenial socialists a bit much. But it just takes up way less headspace than it used to."

For Ted, the most important change has been his ability to open businesses and protect his partner. "We are unable to marry as his home country doesn't recognize same-sex marriage, so instead of having a marriage, I have a business that sponsors his ARC."

Uma, who gave up her original nationality, said she felt like she was "betraying" her native land, and wished she'd perhaps waited longer to see if she qualified under the new regulations. "We did it because my daughter was graduating from school, and she was going to go to the Netherlands for college. She had a logical argument, she wanted to get Taiwanese nationality so she could travel around Europe freely, and didn’t want to go through the visa process," she said. (Uma's original nationality doesn't usually qualify for visas on arrival). "[My daughter] was under 20, and in Taiwan that’s considered not an adult, so one parent needed to do it with her. So I did it."

Homnick described the process as "bittersweet", pointing out that it feels like only a small step in the right direction.

"In some ways it’s the culmination of 13 years in Taiwan and calling this country my own," he observed. "On the other hand, it’s often a publicity stunt. There's always a press release, and they make the giant ID card. It's like, 'hey look how international we are', without always being super international. And I think it’s great personally, obviously there are benefits to having an ID. But does it really serve the purpose of paving the way for more acceptance of dual citizenship? I think it probably does — any sort of cracks in the long-time policies of excluding most immigrants from citizenship are probably a good thing, even if it’s just getting visibility to starting a conversation."

Ted did not experience the publicity 'circus', however. There was no press release and after some thought, he declined to be interviewed by the media.

Friedman also pointed out the narrowness of the path to dual nationality, but added that there is a logical explanation for it. 

"I’d like to see Taiwan become more multicultural," he said. "The vast majority of foreigners in Taiwan are Southeast Asian workers. So if Taiwan did open [dual nationality to more people], they would be the main beneficiaries. If Taiwan were to shift to becoming more of a Southeast Asian country, and more of an immigrant country the way the US and Europe are more immigrant countries....wherever that’s happened, it’s sparked anti-immigrant backlash mostly sparked by false information and false ideas about who immigrants are and their impact on the economy. Most studies show that immigrants are actually good for the economy and don’t cause rises in crime. But you know Taiwan’s media landscape...and you can imagine how that’s going to be spun by the media."

He went on to emphasize that much of this backlash is sparked by political and media disinformation. "Fearmongering from some politicians and the media are going to be a challenge. So I don’t blame the government for being a little cautious."

In terms of the difficulty of actually acquiring dual nationality, experiences varied quite a bit. All encountered challenges, though some, such as Friedman, found the process smoother than others. Some found the challenges, including significant ones, to be less than expected. Others encountered more difficulties than they'd anticipated. The only universal was that no one's journey was entirely without obstacles.

For Homnick, the whole process took about a year and included an initial rejection. "I applied thinking that I had been a vice president with a tech company for awhile, I’d done some open source projects that had to do with TW as well.  I figure that would be enough...the first time I actually got rejected. They were pretty good about giving feedback, they said, 'we felt you didn’t have enough contributions to Taiwan.' It was good of the committee to give me the feedback, even though I think the standards are ridiculous. So I went back, got a bunch more recommendation letters, and really focused my application on contributions to Taiwan." 

He added that some fields seem to provide easier paths to dual nationality than others. Academia in particular, he said, "seems to be one of the reliable ways to get through the committee. You have to be an associate professor, and if you have that you are pretty much greenlit." 

Ted had a more difficult time of it than either Homnick or Friedman, calling the process an "unparalleled chore." He applied through the Ministry of Science and Technology, and submitted his tech portfolio as proof of contributions to Taiwan. He also noted that one has to have Mandarin language proficiency. 

"[For] the second phase review, my local HRO (Household Registration Office) demanded 39 separate documents, including an FBI background check translated into Chinese, verified by TECRO, and then again by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, then notarized, then translated, then notarized again," Ted recounted.  The local office rejected the translation twice...after giving them all that, they said that I wasn't qualified. It took the intervention of my new employer, lawyers, the Ministry of Science and Technology and the National Development Council to convince the HRO to forward the application." 

However, he states that he's not resentful about the process. "I actually thought it would be worse," he quipped. 

Uma also faced challenges as a new citizen. Receiving citizenship doesn't necessarily grant all the rights of citizenship immediately, as she found out to her detriment. 

She said, "There’s a lot of paperwork you need to give up your own nationality. After that, it’s better if you don’t travel for a period, maybe a year. You just have a passport but it does not show your ID card [because] you don’t have a household registration. So you don’t have the visa-free entry to anywhere in that year. If you have to travel, you have to wait two years to get your household registration. So we didn’t travel for that year, and I lost a lot of job opportunities by staying. After one year we got the national ID the household registration and everything, the works. [Since then] it's just been like a Taiwanese citizen [for me]."

While Homnick noted that gathering paperwork was the most time-consuming part of the process, Friedman emphasized that it comes in two steps, and one is smoother than the other. 

"The first step is to get approved as a special foreign professional," he said. "Once that comes through you are allowed to apply for citizenship without having to give up your passport. That’s fairly simple and straightforward. The first part is occupation specific, and each occupation has their own procedures.

As a professor, I go through the Ministry of Education....The fact that you’ve already been given tenure is proof that you’re a special foreign professional. For a filmmaker, unless you’ve won an Academy Award or something. Some of these professions are made for it, like basketball players, or if you have a Plum Blossom APRC [which] is already proof that you are a special foreign professional. There are certain disciplines where it’s much easier to do it than others."

"It’s a little arbitrary," he continued. "But if you happen to be lucky enough to fit into one of these slots — priest, basketball player…then it’s not that hard. Usually if people have problems, it’s because their institutions weren’t supportive of them. I think as time goes on, more and more institutions [will be] willing to do the process."

Uma agreed, saying that "I used to think you have to be 90 years old and build 90 churches to get citizenship, and that’s too hard. Even now they’re not very realistic. Even now, people who’ve really contributed and who really deserve it are falling through the cracks. It’s getting better, Taiwan is like that." 

Homnick added that it seemed as though someone who didn't have specific institutional backing would need to "win a Nobel Prize" to qualify.

Who's a Foreigner? Who Isn't?

Everyone had something to say about how Taiwan regarded them in the context of being newly, officially local, both in general and in the context of last month's election. Most didn't cite ongoing discrimination, however, it bears mentioning that of the people I interviewed, only one was a person of color. 

Friedman said that when he went to vote, "the two women were speaking Chinese and I heard something about foreigners but they were all nice and polite," and that more than voting itself, talking to others about becoming a citizen might have some kind of impact. "But it's hard to know," he admitted. He also noted that he talks about how perceptions of him as an "American Taiwanese" are likely to be quite different than Taiwanese who gain US citizenship and become "Taiwanese Americans". 

In line with Friedman's earlier point that it would benefit Taiwan to be more multicultural, Homnick noted that while he does have neighbors who will sometimes complain or assume the "foreigner" is at fault, the doormen of this building will stand up for him, especially now that he is a citizen. "They'll stand up when people say 'waiguoren'," he said, "they'll say 'he's not a foreigner!'" 

"It's going to take awhile to get over that stuff. Having people who break conceptions of what a Taiwanese person looks like are probably good in the long run. And I think that’s really in the benefit of Taiwan in the long run as well. You look at China which has tried so hard to become this ethnonationalist state, anything Taiwan can do to set themselves apart from that is a good thing." 

Uma described her experience when voting: "I think there are more and more foreign faces with ID cards now, so they’re not that surprised. First they said, 'do you have an ID?' I said yes. I had my ID in hand so they understood I was a citizen."

"I no longer care if people mislabel me as a foreigner, or try to speak English when Chinese would be easier...I have nothing more to prove, but seeing my partner face so much discrimination is heartbreaking. As a foreigner, I always felt like citizens had so much untapped power, but now as a citizen I feel this kind of surreal helplessness. I'm safe, but I cannot extend that safety to others," Ted added.

Homnick also noted discrimination against Southeast Asian immigrants in Taiwan, citing a bulletin in his building requiring families to sequester any domestic workers in their apartments during the pandemic, and not let them leave. "That's definitely illegal," he clarified. "I said, 'if you don't take this down I'm calling the police." (The notice was taken down.) 

While voting and being part of the political process is the most meaningful benefit Homnick says he's derived, the one he feels on a daily basis is having a regular Taiwan identity card. "The biggest quality of life improvement is having the number that works on websites, he said. "Which is funny because they said they were going to solve this issue by standardizing the ID numbers, but their solution didn't fix anything!"

Homnick also noted that access to government subsidies and other services is a major benefit, but that he's never tried to get something like a mortgage. "Some things haven’t changed," he added. "I still get called laowai, waiguoren, people still ask for an ARC. I went to Chunghwa Telecom to renew a contract and they still wanted to see an ARC, and I needed to explain that I don’t have [one]. There’s still some discrimination by banks. It’s more about being born outside of Taiwan."


The November Election

One thing struck me as I talked to this group of new Taiwanese with many divergent experiences: the extent to which they agreed on the November election. 

"Politically, I have way less patience for the KMT than I used to. I was never a tankie, but I was educated by them and felt they had good points on some issues [such as nuclear power]. But I'm not willing to entertain them because I don't trust them to handle China, and if they don't get that through their heads, the party and country will suffer. The Communists might not allow me to leave the way a foreigner could," Ted observed.

Homnick is similarly worried. "I am a lot more wary of China," he said. "I don’t think I’ll ever go back to China. I think the national security law probably applies to me now. Even if it doesn’t, it’s not worth taking the risk. What if they start arbitrarily detaining Taiwan citizens? What happens to citizens if there is some kind of conflict?"

"I didn't have a lot invested in who was elected to the city council," Friedman said. "but I really cared a lot about the referendum [to lower the voting age to 18], and I’m very upset about that. I didn’t expect it to win. I was for it [but] I was shocked by now disinterested and now unmotivated people were to make sure that it passed...for me, it seemed an important measure in terms of Taiwanese democracy. And it’s again something I’ve talked about with my students. I have had students who said they thought they weren’t mature enough to vote. I showed them a map of how in other countries, 16 or 17 year olds might [have voting rights].  'Do you really think you’re less mature?'"

He continued, "Then they started thinking, maybe you have a point. Even young people seem to buy into [the attitude that they shouldn't be voting.] I found that very depressing, I think it’s important for young people to become civically engaged and start participating in the process. Politics shouldn’t be left to just old people either."

Homnick agreed, saying he was "disappointed but not surprised" regarding the election results. "I feel like I don’t have a good understanding of why people vote the way they do. I’m not sure I have a good understanding in the US either. I don’t see why anyone with Chiang in their name is still relevant these days. [My girlfriend said] her friends said they voted for him because he's handsome, or their parents told them to. [But] if you want to pick the most handsome candidate, you have the right to. No matter how I feel about it, it’s your choice. I was disappointed about the referendum on voting age. A lot of the justifications for people voting against that: '18 year olds are not mature enough to make decisions like that.' Well they’re not going to be if you treat them like children!"

Friedman tended to agree regarding the election of Chiang Wan-an as Taipei mayor. "It's hard for me to know how much of a factor it played, it's obvious that Wan-an is cashing in on the Chiang name, which is weird that that would have resonance for people. One argument is 'well, they didn't really vote for him for that reason', [but] the fact that he chose that name didn't hurt him either. It's like in the Philippines with the Marcos family getting re-elected. The parallels are interesting."

"I’m really sad the referendum thing didn’t go through," Uma concurred. "The voting age should be 18. They’re saying there wasn’t proper education about it. There might have been some misinformation as well. People were saying that older people thought that people aged 18-20 could also run for elections as a candidate, and older people didn’t like that, so they voted against it."

Not everyone expressed a specific opinion on candidates, but Uma offered one perspective: "Chen had a town hall for foreigners, when he started [campaigning], when he first announced, and I got to go. And I interacted with him and…I watched him for 900 days. I was very excited to have the possibility of being mayor. So that was quite sad." 

In the end, Friedman and Uma offered up perspectives that perhaps summarized the feeling of participating in a democratic process as citizens rather than foreign residents. 

Although Friedman described voting as "a little anticlimactic", he didn't mean it in a negative way. "For democracy to be kind of boring is a good thing," he said. 

In fact, Friedman pointed to social movements as another vital part of civic engagement and the democratic process. "When the Sunflower movement happened, the students we had comment to university were very politicized. Since [then], that faded into the background, young people seemed less politically involved. It’s interesting, because my general feeling is that the quality of education is improving in Taiwan, and the quality of college students is improving, [but they seem] less politicized...Wage justice, environmental justice -- there are some, but broadly speaking people tend to be more focused on their personal career. Social movements invigorate people and get people involved in politics."

"Because when we say Taiwan is a beacon for democracy in Asia, it’s like the front line against an autocratic country," Uma concluded. "I feel like I’m part of it. And I’m not sure whether it excites me or scares me. Family back home, [ask] 'aren’t you scared of living in Taiwan?" Because the media really hypes up the whole China thing, [such as] when Pelosi came and [China's military drills]. I said no...it’s just like part of our daily lives. It’s something we’re used to...Taiwan is upholding this light of democracy,  and Taiwan is dealing with that on a daily basis. Being part of the voting processes [and] making sure they don’t sell Taiwan out to China is an important part of that."