Xishu Old Street and Sikunshen (Tainan)

I'm going to present this post more as a photo essay, because I don't have much specifically to say about each picture. But, I wanted to write about these older areas of southern Tainan that are often overlooked: Xishu Old Street 喜樹老街 and nearby Sikunshen 四鯤鯓. Both of these areas are old settlements, and most likely fishing villages given their proximity to the coast. 

It's worth noting that thanks to a highway and a seawall, you can't actually see the ocean from either now, but it is there. Either of these might make a fine diversion or extra stop on a day trip to the beach down here. I haven't actually been to the beach, so I can't say if it's any good.

For awhile, local governments in Taiwan were keen to promote "old streets" -- streets mostly full of Japanese-era architecture that either once served as the downtown or high street of a city, or were otherwise left intact. You can find them all over the place, with the most famous examples being Daxi (Taoyuan County) and Sanxia (New Taipei). Others exist but none top the architecture of those two. They filled up with very similar businesses selling retro-style toys, balms and oils, wooden massage, backscratching and pressure-point implements, various sweet and savory snacks (preserved fruit is popular), food vendors and little souvenirs. Sprinkle in a few restaurants, snack vendors selling whatever the town is 'famous' for and perhaps a cafe, and you have a classic 'old street'. I've also explored some quieter ones, such as Hukou Old Street in Hsinchu County, which is quite difficult to get to.

People still go to these, and I don't mind popping through if I'm in the town; they can be nice if they're not too crowded. 

Some old streets, however, don't quite make it: take Xishu Old Street (喜樹老街) outside Tainan city, for example. This area is very close to the Gold Coast beach area, and not conveniently located for transport. There is a parking lot, and the Bus #1 comes down here from central Tainan, but it doesn't come very often. The bus stop is on Xishu Road (喜樹路). Just outside the old village area there are some convenience stores, and Google says there are restaurants around, though none were open when we passed through.

What's interesting about this area isn't how bustling it is, because it isn't. Rather, it's more like an atmospheric residential backstreet which reveal a few past attempts at being renovated for tourism, surrounded by a nearly abandoned village of crumbling brick houses.

In the photos you'll see quite a few original Majolica tiles (meaning these houses are probably from the Japanese era, as the tiles became popular in Taiwan after they started coming in from Japan) and some original painting, all of it fading and rotting in the elements. While I'd love to see these houses preserved or renovated just as they are, the fact is most of them are so far gone that they're unlivable now. So, the next best thing would be to try and rescue the art to be found here, through in situ preservation if possible -- but perhaps dismantling if not. While the look of beautifully painted wooden walls deteriorating over the decades is poetic and melancholy, I'd rather see this work saved somehow.

Notable points include an area that seems to have been a renovated performance space (though there was nothing going on while we were there), a few abandoned historic houses such as the 鄭家古厝 (the Zheng family home), and what seems to have been the original purveyor of those bags and purses in Taiwan that are shaped and printed to look exactly like fish (though they were not open when we visited). There is also a lot of cat-themed decoration: according to one signboard, the area used to be full of street cats. They'd played an important role in controlling the mouse population when people lived here. Then over time the people mostly left, but the cats stayed. Then, eventually, the cats left too.  

A very short drive north along the coast, you'll find Sikunshen (四鯤鯓). This village is a bit more, well...inhabited than Xishu, and very atmospheric to walk around. The town still seems to have a lot of connections to the shellfish business, especially oysters, and as it's still inhabited, the cats are still around.

There's not a lot to do, but it's fairly easy to park at Longshan Temple (龍山寺), or the Bus #6 will take you here. It's not even that hard to transfer between the #1 and the #6 -- you have to do a little backtracking, but it's possible -- if you've decided to spend the day in the area, though it will take longer than driving. 

Sikunshen has more crumbling brick architecture, a few interestingly-decorated renovated houses, and a very large old well. If any local aunties or uncles are around, they might fetch you a bucket to draw water from it, if you want. 

The signboard by the well notes that there were actually two large wells in this area, one on each side of Longshan Temple. Because of this, they were considered the 'eyes' of the dragon-like sea creature -- hence this well's name: 龍目 (Longmu or Dragon Eyes). The water here was apparently especially sweet ad plentiful, though frankly all signs next to historic well say that, trust me. Nobody's ever like "yeah this was our old well, the water was gross and tasted bad". It's always something more like "we dubbed this well 'Eternal Sweet Water' for the sustenance it gave the community!"

In any case, municipal water was installed in 1968.

The name of the village is notable, as well. If you read my post on Luermen (鹿耳門), you'll know that much of what is now Tainan used to be a wide, shallow bay called the Taijiang Inland Sea. Cordoning this bay off from the Taiwan Strait were a series of sandbars that peeked out of the water at regular intervals which looked, taken together, like humps on the back of a massive sea monster or whale (鯤鯓), which is how the area gets its name. Although the geography has changed quite a bit in the past few centuries, these bits of the sea creature's back were numbered. Sikunshen was, of course, the fourth one. 

Anyway, enough of me talking: enjoy some photos. 

Xishu Old Street

Sikunshen

The restored Japanese temple in Taoyuan, and other assorted goodies

You know you want to visit this temple because of French Fry Box Cat.

I know a serious political blogger would be writing a piece right now all about how Taiwan can't be compared to Afghanistan, but honestly, I think that conclusion is so obvious that it's truly beneath me. The US failed at nation-building. Taiwan is already a functioning nation with a competent government that enjoys rule of law. The two countries are so different as to be utterly incomparable, so let us talk about something else because I simply cannot with that particular story. 

Now that that's off my chest: Taoyuan!

I still maintain that while greater Taoyuan has some attractions, Taoyuan as a city is not particularly interesting. But, there are still a few things to interest the casual visitor. Most notably, the well-preserved Japanese-era temple at the Taoyuan Martyrs' Shrine and Cultural Park (桃園忠烈祠暨神社文化園區), on a hill at #200, Section 3 Chenggong Road (成功路三段200號). 

This particular temple, built in 1938, is astoundingly intact: in fact, it's the most intact Shinto shrine in all of Taiwan. It's a rare example of preservation of Japanese cultural influence rather than intentional destruction, although to be sure the "martyrs" now enshrined here are certainly not Japanese.

You can get there from Taoyuan Train Station by taking a taxi for less than NT$200, and there are a few buses that go up the hill. My recommendation is to take the taxi up and the bus back. There are also buses from Taipei City (buses 9069 and 9069A both run between Nanjing Fuxing MRT and Taoyuan Veterans' General Hospital, next door to the shrine) and transport to and from Taoyuan HSR, though it takes awhile. 

Most Shinto shrines and other Japanese cultural relics in Taiwan were either destroyed, "left to the elements" to rot naturally, or occupied as civil servant dormitories for years after the ROC colonial regime took over from the Japanese one. Those that survived into the 1970s, were torn down right around then. This particular shrine was slated for demolition in the 1980s, but by then consciousness of Taiwanese history could be spoken about more than during the worst years of the White Terror, and a public outcry saved it. It was renovated in 1986, designated as a Level 3 historic site in 1994, and underwent renovations again around 2017, which also happened to be the first time I tried to see it.

            

The site offers several pavilions with beautifully gabled roofs -- including a ritual washing (misogi) pavilion, a shrine office with a distinctly Japanese portico, a main temple and a hondono supported by wooden pillars with copper tile and "turtle belly" decoration, though it's not open to the public. The temple itself is still a martyrs' shrine, and indoor photography is prohibited. 

Also of note is the intact torii, the traditional gate, and a bronze horse (for more on the bronze horses of Taiwan, read Taipei, City of Displacements. This particular horse even gets a mention). These horses were common in Taiwan and some other Japanese colonies. Interestingly, they all look quite similar, but don't seem to be common in Japan.

  


The brochure says they "symbolize the ride of the gods between the divine sanctuary and the mortal world", though of greater interest to me was the shrine's emblem engraved on the side, which has in fact endured a great deal of wear. 

With gorgeous greenery and beautifully restored buildings, local residents come up here for fresh air -- we met some folks with their cats in boxes -- and it's a popular spot for cosplay photography. I recommend coming early, as the shrine closes early -- 5pm, to be precise. 

There's a 7-11 nearby where you can grab water or call a taxi, and almost directly across the street on the way to the bus stop, you'll find an exceptionally hip cafe called Luna (鹿點咖啡), which has two floors of excruciatingly fashionable shabby-chic seating. They also sell coffee beans and high-quality insulated coffee thermoses. It's an excellent place to spend a lot of money for quality (and ultra-hip) coffee while you figure out when the bus you want will arrive. 

It's hard to figure out if this place is deer-themed (implied from the Chinese name) or moon-themed (from the English name) so I can only suppose it intends to be both.

If you're in Taoyuan and near the train station, don't forget to check out the amazing storefront of HN Nail, and the odd "vampire" building across the street. HN Nail can be found at #150 Fuxing Road (復興路150號) within walking distance of the station, and the creepy "vampire building" is directly across the street. 

HN Nail features in a book about interesting Taiwanese facades:

...but it doesn't say much other than that the idea of using large 3D signage to advertise what your business offers originated in Japan. There are other examples in Taiwan, usually of the crustacean variety. There's a great one of a lobster or crayfish in Kaohsiung:


                   


It's fun, the neighborhood is fairly lively and pleasant to walk around in, and it's very close to a transport hub. 

And the area has some interesting signage as well:

Book Review: Elegy of Sweet Potatoes

You can buy Elegy of Sweet Potatoes from Camphor Press, with an updated cover design.

Before I get started, I just wanted to let everyone know that our much bandied-about piece reviewing every general history of Taiwan is now up, and can be read over at Ketagalan Media. I'll save a link in the "Books About Taiwan" page pinned above. 

* * * 

Elegy of Sweet Potatoes (蕃薯哀歌) by Tehpen Tsai chronicles the author's experience being arrested, interrogated and eventually imprisoned by the KMT during the White Terror, despite having broken no actual laws of the incoming regime. The beating heart of the story revolves around the government's insistence that Tsai had a book about Chairman Mao. 

He had no such book, but a friend of his who had been arrested had given his name and said he did, in order to prolong his own life while the matter was investigated. In order to end his torturous interrogation in Chiayi, he admitted that he might have had the book without realizing it. This "confession" was used to imprison him for years, even as he recanted it later, refusing to validate that version of events. 

This caused him trouble -- the authorities were not interested in hearing that a forced confession had been false, as they'd already decided Tsai was guilty -- but is ultimately what might have saved him from execution. Possibly. 

While in prison, Tsai details how things worked, what his fellow inmates had been jailed for, and how the governance of Taiwan by the KMT turned him and many other Taiwanese from welcomers of a new leadership kicking out the Japanese colonizers to a citizenry who hated the brutal dictatorship that not only replaced Japan, but was arguably worse. 

Just telling it like this, apparently, pissed a lot of people off. 

There is something wonderful about that: a memoir that tells a truth so ruthlessly that it even angers who align with the writer politically. 

That's what Tsai does: no ideology-mongering, no re-jiggering history to fit his preferred analytical framework, no punch-pulling -- just the truth. And the complexity isn't limited to "good" and "bad", though there are a clear good and bad side in this story. 

Tsai refused to blame his friend, saying that if his stay in prison could save his friend's life, he was happy to bear it. The friend was executed anyway.

With this, Tsai managed to infuriate his friend's family, for telling the truth that their relative had lied in an attempt to save his own life. Tsai refused to criticize the family for this. 

That some names were extracted by torturing people who had been already arrested surely incensed yet more people: everybody wants to believe that their brave countrymen will refuse to give each other up to save their own skins, but the fact is, this is what a lot of people do when faced with excruciating brutality and execution.

Narrating his time in various prisons and re-education camps, Tsai dives deeper: pointing out both solidarity and undermining among the prisoners. He recounted how not all of the prisoners were Taiwanese -- plenty were accused Communists from China -- and mostly they managed to get along, sharing the extra, more edible food in their care packages with one another. He is absolutely clear that some (though not all) of the inmates are in fact Communists and revolutionaries, and some were in fact anti-KMT dissidents. 

However, he clarifies that neither of these things should, by any reasonable definition, be considered a crime. 

This infuriated many pro-Taiwan activists at the time, who wanted to sell only the narrative that the KMT unilaterally targeted Taiwanese, and that those imprisoned and executed had, in general, never been "Communists". The truth, of course, is far more complex. Most weren't, but some were. Most were Taiwanese, but some came from China.

And that's the point: the KMT was not just out to arrest dissidents and actual Communist infiltrators, as they claimed. Rather, their endgame was to terrify, punish or eliminate anyone who might oppose them, and the Taiwanese literati were certainly on that list, regardless of anything they might have actually done.

I love some of the details of this book: Tsai's charming "country boy made good" take on life, his obvious high regard for his wife in an ge when many marriages were still arranged, and the gentleness of his demeanor -- his unwillingness to hold even the most deserved of grudges -- which shines through in his narrative. When another inmate who gave friends' names to try and prolong his own life hears that Tsai isn't mad at the man who did the same to him and proclaims that he wishes he had such a friend, you don't get the feeling that the author is humble-bragging. When he arrives back on Chiayi and sees his family again it's genuinely moving. 

Although he recounts how prisoners would call the KMT diaspora "pigs", he eviscerates the Taiwanese officers in Chiayi who collaborated with him just as thoroughly. It's all the more devastating knowing this is coming from a man who would not naturally toss off such an insult. 

There's something very Taiwanese about the way the story is told that I can't quite put my finger on. The narration of shorter stories about his time in jail instead of regular chapter markers might be it, or referencing literature and things about life in Taiwan without explaining them too much, or just the way the prose flows. All while being completely forthright about how his own feelings regarding the KMT changed over time. 

This makes the story all the more touching if you are familiar with Taiwan and don't need literary tropes to guide you. Frankly, I like the narrative the way it is: a story about the sweet potato-shaped island by a self-professed sweet potato: a Taiwanese local literati caught up in horrific, unfair brutality meted out by an illegitimate squatter government.

I can't help but think, however, that there's a clear dramatic and emotional arc here that, if teased out correctly, could win over non-local audiences. With a cohesive storyline and compelling characters (whom, as far as I know, were all real people), I could even see it as an international award-winning film. 

And yet, perhaps in making such changes, something else vital would be lost. Indeed, it's hard to imagine such a beautifully devastating book being turned into anything other than exactly what it is.

Let's end with this: if you are one of my few readers who is (weirdly) pro-KMT, and have been inclined in the past to make arguments that they really weren't that bad, that Taiwan is better off with the party having set up shop here, that perhaps parts of the White Terror were justified...

...well, first, I'm going to emulate the monk-like patience of Tehpen Tsai and not tell you the four-letter word in my head. 

Secondly, don't. Just don't. Read this book, and consider that the protagonist is a man who was happy to see the Japanese go, only to realize that the regime that replaced them was so much worse that in fact, the Japanese era looked halcyon by comparison.

All the proof you need that the KMT's reign of terror was indefensible and they are arguably one of the worst things that has ever happened to this fine country can be found in these pages. So read them.

KMT (and yes, DPP) hypocrisy and a pragmatic case for vouchers

A doorway to the green...

There was an interesting Taiwan This Week...this week, where the debates over economic stimulus were discussed with Donovan Smith and Michael Turton.

(That might be the most boring sentence I've ever opened with in the history of Lao Ren Cha, but bear with me). 

The DPP wants vouchers, very much like the ones given out last year where you'd pay NT$1000 and get NT$3000 worth of vouchers in return. The new round would be the same, but raise the payout from $3000 to $5000. The $1000 is likely to be waived for economically impacted, low-income or disabled people, and they seem to have already decided that APRC holders will be included as well as the spouses of Taiwanese citizens, the latter having always been included in such schemes. 

Interestingly, the KMT has been saying the program would be better implemented if cash payouts were offered instead of vouchers. From the Taipei Times:

Since the detection of a local COVID-19 outbreak in May, many restaurants and food stalls have been forced to suspend business, and some have closed permanently, Chiang said.

Individual workers are also struggling, he said, adding that public opinion on a universal cash handout scheme was “clear.”

Two-thirds of people want such a program, he said, citing the results of a poll released on Friday by the KMT-affiliated National Policy Foundation.

The economic benefits of last year’s Triple Stimulus Voucher program, which allowed people to purchase NT$3,000 of vouchers for NT$1,000, were not good, Chiang said.

Moreover, the distribution of the vouchers created “chaos” and increased costs, he said.

Briefly, he's right that individual workers as well as business are struggling, but doesn't provide a clear line of reasoning from that to using cash (there is such a line, but he doesn't appear to offer it). The poll numbers may well be somewhat correct, but he's citing an unreliable poll from an KMT-affiliated foundation, so it's hard to say. 

The claim that the first round of vouchers didn't work is dubious at best: I don't think we know yet whether they worked, but we do know that Taiwan's GDP jumped in the months when they could be obtained and spent, and that Taiwan's overall 2020 growth outpaced China's (well, according to reported data, which is not reliable for China) and was the best in the developed world. We may not know if they helped, but we know they didn't hurt. 

The closest we can come to figuring this out is to look at an earlier stimulus voucher program, implemented by the KMT at the beginning of Ma Ying-jeou's first term. One paper -- the only one I could find in the limited time I have to write this -- claims it had little or no effect (that link goes straight to a download and I haven't checked the reliability of the paper). But, the circumstances were very different. New president in power, no pandemic -- although there was a big economic downturn which arguably slammed Taiwan harder than coronavirus, economically speaking.

Did it create "chaos"? I didn't see any. What chaos? Would you like to be more specific, Johnny? Taiwan was probably the least chaotic country in the world in 2020. What are you talking about?

Did it increase administrative costs? Yes, but I would guess not by a huge amount. Cash would be less administratively burdensome; that's a valid point. But, was it prohibitively so? I don't see any real evidence that it was. 

Here's what's more interesting. I've buried the lede and I apologize. It's a bit rich for the KMT to be banging on about offering cash now. As I mention above that the last time the KMT had power, their economic stimulus program was also voucher-based.

Why are they so against it now, when the Tsai administration plan is just a fancier version of the Ma one? (There are some differences: Ma's plan did not require an NT$1000 payout, and had fewer restrictions on how they could be spent.) 

I'm sure they could come up with some reasons that didn't reek of hypocrisy: that people waiting in line to get the vouchers could cause outbreaks (there was no pandemic in 2008-2009), or that the restrictions make it harder for the working class to use them as they'd like (true enough). But they seem to be going for plain old "forget history, we favor cash and we've always favored cash" politicking over actually trying to make a good case. 

To be fair, the DPP didn't seem too fond of vouchers in 2008 either -- lashing out at the KMT for it -- and yet here they are, doing vouchers. It's almost like the two parties actually agree on a bunch of stuff but just can't admit it for political reasons, even if not everything they agree on is actually a good idea.

It's worth pointing out that they can be hypocrites too, and as a result each side keeps saying the other is wrong, but then recycles many of their ideas anyway.

That said, there's nothing I hate more than bad argumentation (okay, I also dislike late-night half-assed Marxist "analysis", but I can forgive it if the person doing it is otherwise cool). 

If you thought I didn't respect the KMT because of all the mass murder and colonialist brutalizing...well, that's true. But I also don't respect them because even when there's a good argument to be made for whatever they support, they don't bother to make it. They literally just bend over, drop trou and show their whole ass. Administrative costs? You guys are the absolute kings of administrative costs, and you were during your 2008 voucher program too! Individual workers? Good point, but since when has the KMT been the party of the working class everyman, not the "my parents were born in China and maybe reported your parents to the secret police" princelings?

Do they even know how to do politics responsibly? It seems not.

Oh, and the People First Party under James Soong has argued for checks. That's cute. My reaction to this suggestion can be seen in the visualization below:
    

"Checks? Okay grandpa."

 
In a "gossiping over wine voice": Checks! Could you even imagine?

One case for vouchers is that they won't increase inflation. But, I don't think the amount of money would be enough to do this, as Donovan points out on Taiwan This Week. I do think the "waiting in line" aspect could be an issue, as both point out. I do think people can be trusted to use the money in a way that best suits them. However, under Ma, people socked away extra cash and used the vouchers to pay for their regular purchases. So, vouchers don't necessarily solve that problem when you want to stimulate the economy, not bump up people's savings accounts by a fairly marginal amount. 

Frankly, this is probably what the restrictions on what they can be used for are trying to prevent: if you can't use them to pay most bills, but only for consumer goods, you might use them to buy food but you're less likely to save an equivalent amount, and you might be tempted to treat yourself especially if you've had a hard time during the outbreak.

I do tend to agree with Michael that this is just another flashy program covering up the lack of a strong, comprehensive social safety net.

Basically, the question is: what is the goal of the Tsai administration? There are two possible objectives: helping those who've been hard-hit by the pandemic (which a series of relief measures and subsidies also do), or stimulating business and getting people back in stores. Honestly, they probably want to do a little of both.

If the former, cash payments would be the better choice as struggling people would be free to do whatever they wanted with that money, and they know their own situations best. 

If the latter, vouchers make sense. It's the most likely way to push people to go out and shop for consumer goods. It's not a bad goal -- such businesses have been hard-hit, especially restaurants, and the faster they can recover, the more people they can employ who might be temporarily out of work. And it does indeed seem to be the priority. There tends to be an assumption in government here that for the very poor, they can and should turn to family to help them out in times of need. Broke as a joke? Go live with your parents!

That sometimes works, but it often doesn't. It would be better to update our understanding of how family may not be an option for some struggling people.

I would posit, however, that this wouldn't be the same discussion if Taiwan did have a real social safety net. So perhaps rather than arguing over vouchers or cash, we should get on that instead. (It's still okay to laugh at checks though. Checks!) And, of course, the foreign community should have more access to them: it would be better for businesses that cater to the Southeast Asian community for sure if more of them could get vouchers, and it might help rouse more discontent over the fact that many are still being locked in their dorms in an extremely racist fashion, let out for only two hours a day. 

So here is the case for vouchers: If the other relief measures liked above were aimed at helping the needy, and the Tsai administration sees vouchers more as a way to jumpstart consumer spending (which would theoretically lead to renewed employment opportunities -- but only theoretically), then the administrative cost of the vouchers may be worth what they are trying to achieve. I suspect the $1000 payout might be aimed at defraying those costs, or possibly as a psychological impetus to push people to go out and spend them.

However, I have a hard time signing on to that fully, when people who are truly struggling don't have a reliable public assistance option and can't pay their major bills with vouchers. 

But this is the most pragmatic case for vouchers: clearly the KMT is actually fine with them, seeing as they used them too. So, theoretically, this is the most unifying view among people in power, it's just that right now the KMT won't admit it. 

As for me personally? I don't have a strong preference, because I don't think it's the biggest problem. The lack of comprehensive public assistance is. If you put cash in my hand I'd be just as happy with that.

China's Drug War: Coming Soon to a Taiwanese Hospital Near You

                    

Hey look it's an accurate cover photo and you know it. 

If you're wondering where I've been these past few weeks, it's still the same old thing: moving all of my work online means I'm in front of a computer all day, and I just get tired of it. I want to read a paper book or look at something that's not a screen.

I've also been working on that longer project with Brendan comparing every general history book about Taiwan available in English. It took some time, but look for it to be coming out soon.

But, as usual, something got stuck in my head that won't get out. So here we are. 

About two weeks ago, the Taipei Times published this piece on China snapping up the Taiwan distribution rights to almost a third of all new pharmaceuticals. It was a good article, and important warning -- and seems to have been largely overlooked: 

In a report dated Monday, the Legislative Yuan’s Judiciary and Organic Laws and Statutes Bureau decried the arrangement as unreasonable.

“Requiring South Korea to purchase vaccines through a North Korean distributor or Israel to go through a Palestinian firm would be preposterous,” the report said.

Granting exclusive distribution rights in a nation to its political and military adversary is ethically problematic, it said.

Due to the antagonism and mutual distrust between the two nations, it is highly unlikely that they would complete a contract and instead use it as a tool for political manipulation, it added.

This would further hinder transactions and jeopardize the right to healthcare of the “represented country,” the report added.

I would switch Israel and Palestine in that analogy, personally, but the point holds. This is terrifying, and you should be terrified. It is not crisis-mongering. It's an actual crisis in the making. 

Imagine a future in Taiwan where about a third of new drugs on the market are difficult to get or simply not available because China holds the distribution rights, but it would be political suicide to buy from China (not to mention playing directly into CCP hands).

Now, expand that thought: not just you at the doctor's office unable to get the drugs you need. Imagine millions in that same position, and how angry they'd be. Imagine the political crisis that would create: we already saw it with the BNT vaccines. Visualize that, but with a huge percentage of all new drugs on the market. 

Consider as well the opportunities for malicious actors and disinformation purveyors, populists riling up the people who are rightfully mad because they can't get medicine, sharpening that public anger into a poison spear and throwing it at exactly the wrong target. Not China, whose fault this is, or even those in Taiwan who insist China can be dealt with reasonably and warmer relations are possible without undermining one's own position. Rather, the protests would be directed at those trying to protect Taiwan from Chinese interference and annexationism -- the people who best understand that Taiwan needs to stand up for itself. 

Think of the destabilization: a KMT that wins, and caves in to buying medicine through Chinese channels, whose own supporters voted them in so that they could do this, and a furious opposition. Or DPP in power, but furious KMT voters who blame the DPP, not China, for the existence of the problem. Imagine a DPP who cannot cave (it would be political suicide with their own base) but has trouble withstanding that kind of pressure. It's not hard to imagine, because that's already what they do! 

With a segment of the population -- albeit a shrinking one -- who still does not understand that it is impossible for Taiwan to deal with China without China trying to undermine the country, it would be...well, a crisis. It would be difficult to have a functioning democracy in a country who can't access a huge portion of the latest medicines.

Let me make it worse. Consider as well that there are always two players in these games. China's gonna China, that's how the CCP rolls. Subjugation-happy assholes to the last. But those pharmaceutical companies agreed to those terms. They didn't see anything wrong with selling the rights to the Taiwan market to Taiwan's biggest existential threat. 

Taiwan watchers have been talking a lot recently about the good press and stronger support Taiwan has been getting. I admit, I've been glad to see it too. But while we've been celebrating, entire vital sectors of the economy have been quietly turned against Taiwan by the CCP. And those international entities let it happen. 

You might not be mad about the airlines caving to China. Perhaps you're not mad about the major language proficiency tests doing it (still, fuck IELTS). Maybe you couldn't work up sufficient anger over exclusion from international organizations, "Chinese Taipei", the end of actual Taiwanese representation in the Taiwanese representative office in Hong Kong or the BNT fiasco. In a lot of cases, it's a name change, purely aesthetic, or it's one medication. Those international organizations are pretty useless sometimes, it seems.

But all of those slights, all of those insults, all of those successful attempts to undermine Taiwan: they were always leading up to bigger, bolder plans for forced subjugation. 

That's what this is. 

I hope you were mad before. If not, I hope you're furious now. 

This proves without a doubt that the Shanghai Fosun deal with BNT (Shanghai Fosun, as a large company in China, is ultimately beholden to the CCP) was not an unfortunate accident, an oversight, a one-off. It was a direct attempt to harm Taiwan, and BNT let it happen. They agreed to it. Everyone who said it wasn't a big deal, that the DPP were wrong for declining to consider working with Shanghai Fosun, that the distribution rights were above board and negotiated in good faith, not an attack on Taiwan...you were wrong. Your opinion was bad and you should feel bad. 

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the weird workaround of letting Terry Guo, TSMC and Tzu Chi buy the doses was not some odd accidental outcome. I have thoughts about TSMC's role that I won't share, and not much of an opinion on Tzu Chi (though I dislike religious organizations generally), but I stand firm on this: Terry Gou is a gamepiece. Perhaps he knows it to some degree, but I'm not sure if he realizes the extent to which is is a CCP pawn.

It also proves that the only way to deal with China is to refuse to play. If Taiwan bends over and accepts drugs through Chinese distribution channels -- as the torch-and-pitchfork types are likely to scream that the country should do -- then it'll be more drugs next time. Then something else. And another thing. And soon the CCP plan to get its claws inextricably into Taiwan will actually have worked. 

There is no way to talk to China, no way to negotiate, no way to warm up relations. They will always try this. They will never come honestly to the table. They will always try to undermine you. It's like trying to have an honest relationship with a narcissist, abuser or compulsive liar. It's not possible. If you take this punch, if you let that comment slide, if you try to placate them, they only escalate. It never works. 

The only way to win is not to play. 

Finally, this proves that a basic understanding of Taiwan among the general international community actually does matter. I've heard people say that only policymakers matter, only politicians, only officials. There's no point in trying to reach a wider audience of people who are not in a position to effect change, because, well, they can't do anything. 

That attitude is wrong. 

You know who's sitting in that "general audience" section? Businesspeople. Talent that Taiwan might recruit. Several million people who might intentionally choose a Taiwan-made product over a Chinese one. Writers and newscasters who don't focus on Taiwan normally but at the Olympics, might take a stand and just call Taiwan by its name, rather than Chinese Taipei. Creators who might re-think what peddling their products in China will ultimately cost them, and ask if it's worth the market access. 

And, of course, another important segment of that audience: pharmaceutical executives. 

Not the people who are considered particularly important in Taiwan discourse. And yet, looking at those numbers, I sure do wish more international pharma execs were more knowledgeable about Taiwan. I wish we'd tried harder to reach people like that: not just in the drug industry, but all industries. Because today it's medicine, tomorrow it'll be something else. It always is.

Perhaps it wouldn't make a difference. Perhaps they'd have signed away Taiwan's distribution rights to its biggest enemy regardless. Perhaps there is nothing one can do to make them care. 

But perhaps not. Perhaps actually knowing what one is doing might cause one to choose a different option.

You honestly never know.

This is a great reason to sign my petition for Last Week Tonight to do a show about Taiwan, by the way. The whole point is to reach a general audience. Now available in Mandarin!