A feast of hatred (and love) — Part II

Another eventful day as supporters and opponents of homosexual marriage meet on the battleground of ideas

The battle for and against the legalization of same-sex unions in Taiwan continued today with a series of activities, including a second large rally organized by the Church-backed Happiness of the Taiwan Happy Family Alliance. Although the violations committed by some members of the Alliance today were less severe than those witnessed during the disastrous 1130 event, a few incidents nevertheless highlighted the intolerance that continues to animate the organizations that oppose homosexual unions.

Displays of love, for equality

The day started on a positive note, with supporters of legislative amendments to Article 972 of the Civil Code, which would open the door for same-sex marriage, gathering near the Legislative Yuan for a “Kiss for Marriage Equality” activity. About 300 people turned up, and there was, as expected, a lot of love, especially during the mass kissing session.

Soon afterwards, the group adjourned and joined members of the Lobby Alliance for LGBT Human Rights near National Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall for a brief press conference headed by Chen Chia-chun (陳嘉君), chairperson of the Shih Ming-teh Foundation, an outspoken supporter of amendments to 972.

Cute, or bigoted?

As people were gathering, I caught my first glance of the families on their way to the Happiness of the Taiwan Happy Family Alliance rally at the CKS plaza. At first, I thought those were children returning from the “1,600 paper pandas” event currently showing at the plaza; the kids were wearing hats made of cardboard, with pandas in the front. Only when I looked closer did I realize what it really was: There was a dad panda, a mom panda, and two children pandas, with accompanying text containing the usual rhetoric about what constitutes a “true” family and all that. One little girl walked by waving a flag with “Father and mother I love you” written on it. Good for you. I do, too, as we all do.

Extraordinarily, someone had actually succeeded in making me hate the ubiquitous symbols of People’s Republic of China imperialism even more. To be fair to the organizers, who never cease to amaze me with their lack of tact, pandas were nevertheless an improvement over the conical hats that members of the Alliance had worn on 1130, which brought to mind the hateful KKK and turned the participants into an international joke. Nelson the Nazi, who made a splash last year, was also missing in action today.

Before heading for Liberty Square adjacent to the CKS plaza, LGBT supporters distributed cards with a large psychedelic rainbow eye printed at the back; if they were confronted, blocked, and surrounded like they were on 1130, they were to flip the card and flash it at their oppressors — a twist, perhaps, on the Citizen 1985 eye theme.

Holy support at Liberty Square

The group walked without incident to Liberty Square, where they held another press conference. After snapping a few shots, I headed over to the big event at the CKS plaza. What immediately struck me, once again, was how slick the whole thing was, with a large stage — erected, appropriately enough, right at the bottom of the hall honoring another oppressor — giant TV screens, great sound, and huge camera cranes. On stage, speakers, pop artists, politicians (I heard Taipei Mayor Hau Lung-bin), drummers and other personalities waxed religious about the greatness of traditional families and, conversely, the terrible threat that same-sex unions purportedly pose to society. The atmosphere was jovial, with lots of dancing and singing. Several participants walked around holding large placards with a variety of inscriptions, from “marriage covenant” — a religious concept which argues that marriage involves not just (strictly) a man and a woman, but Christ as well — to “Mother never stop protecting their children.” More worryingly, some signs recommended adopting laws similar to those recently passed in Uganda to deal with homosexuals, i.e., prison sentences, physical violence, etc.

Variety of slogans against

On two occasions, placard-wielding staff blocked my way and asked what I wanted to do in there. Apparently my camera and tags weren’t sufficient to identify me as a journalist. Perhaps I had an aura about me, which some people in that group claim they are able to see. Not an aura of homosexuality, mind you, as I am straight, but perhaps one of disdain for the hatred and intolerance that surrounded me, masking as love and happiness. After minutes explaining that what I wanted to do “in there” was my job as a journalist, they let me through, albeit reluctantly. After that, staff (and some participants) constantly looked at me in a strange way, and I suspect that I was followed for a while. As with 1130, they managed to make me feel unwelcome, something that hasn’t happened to me in my eight years working as a journalist in Taiwan — with the exception of my visit to Yuanli, Miaoli County, where thugs hired by a German wind power company (and with probable ties to organized crime) made it clear they didn’t want prying eyes in the area.

Clashes as Chen, left, leads the LGBT group in

I went back to the LGBT group, which then announced it would attempt to join the fun at the CKS plaza. Immediately, they ran into a row of police officers, who told them they could go no further. After a brief argument with them, Chen prevailed and the colorful expeditionary force broke onto the main ground. They made it about 200 meters before they were encountered by staff and participants from the Alliance rally, who formed a row with their placards. After a bout of pushing and shoving, LGBT supporters sat down and things quieted for a while. One Alliance member, a man in his 60s who minutes earlier had blown me two (inexplicable) kisses, asked me if I “liked this,” pointing to the LGBT group with a smirk. I told him I was a journalist and that what I thought really didn’t matter. The response seemed to meet his approval and he left me alone.

Members of the alliance watch the concert

Despite the melee, I saw none of the encircling and chasing that caused an international sensation on 1130. In fact, a few LGBT supporters were able to break the blockade and walked around freely, flashing their rainbow flags. For the most part, they were ignored, though they were occasionally blocked. The Alliance participants also didn’t wear the caps and facial masks that prevented identification, as they did on 1130. This leads me to conclude that the organizers and Church groups behind them have learned from their mistakes did not want a repeat of the 1130 fiasco, which backfired and severely damaged their image, at home and abroad. However, signs that celebrate the abhorrent regulations adopted in Uganda still betray a tremendous amount of ignorance, if not something more sinister.

Saying goodbye as the event wraps up

Also troubling is the fact that once again, as people clashed and private citizens assumed the privileges of law enforcement officers by preventing others from walking freely in a public space, police looked on and failed to intervene. Police did try to make the group of LGBT supporters leave early, but strong protests prevailed upon them and the participants were allowed to remain until the very end. In fact, they formed a goodbye committee as the thousands of participants in the Alliance rally wrapped up the event and left the premises, seeing them off with songs and slogans amid a flurry of rainbow flags. One young man, as I recall one of the victims of encircling on 1130, propped himself up on a gate and screamed for several long minutes at the Alliance participants as they walked by, rubbing his throat as his voice became hoarse. The young man radiated raw anger.

I won’t revisit many of the points I’ve made in previous articles. However, one thing that needs pointing out once again is the asymmetry that characterizes the social forces involved in this debate. While a majority of Taiwanese either support or don’t care one way or another about homosexual unions, the minority — far wealthier, connected within the government and backed by various Christian organizations — is much more mobilized and vocal, which thus gives the impression that society at large is overwhelmingly against amendments to 972 (organizers today claimed a turnout of 20,000). I also fear that many of the participants in the campaign to “save” the family are unaware of the dark forces that lurk in the background, of the role played by extremists from the Evangelical far right in the U.S. such as International House of Prayer (IHOP) and others. The strange rhetoric adopted by the campaign is what first made me investigate the groups involved, which led me to some very nasty connections abroad and their growing presence here in Taiwan. The arguments that have been used to justify opposition to legalizing same-sex unions highlight a stunning negligence of scientific facts and reason, and an inability to accept the possibility that humanity is not homogenous. Only the closed minds of individuals who follow top-down dictates uncritically (as religion wants them to) could accept — and defend — the claim that homosexuality is learned, or that same-sex unions would lead to bestiality, chaos, and put children at risk.

One last thing, in response to the claim that Christians don’t hate homosexuals, but in fact love them more than anyone else ever could. This is pure hogwash. Intolerance, the refusal to accept someone for who and what he/she, and believing that that person needs to be fixed or healed, is isn’t love — it’s hate, no matter how you couch it. (All photos by the author)

Double standards: Chinese tourists, Taiwanese, and the rest of us

Taiwan’s laws on foreigners’ involvement in protests and political activity are strict. But when Chinese tourists do it, the authorities tend to look the other way

If you have a heart condition, high blood pressure, get angry easily or have a tendency to engage in fistfights, here’s a friendly piece of advice: Don’t ever come near the Xinyi entrance to the Taipei 101 skyscraper.

I’ve always had a special fondness for the building, and this was the first landmark that I was keen on visiting after my arrival in Taiwan back in 2005. For two years or so, I lived in the immediate neighborhood and often spent time there shopping, enjoying a meal, or sitting down with a cup of coffee and a book.

Then, after Ma Ying-jeou was elected president and gradually relaxed longstanding rules on Chinese tourism, things changed. It was subtle at first, with the thick Chinese accent of visitors occasionally making heads turn. Now, with more than 3 million Chinese arrivals in Taiwan in 2013, they’ve completely ruined it. Throngs of Chinese tourists now occupy the area, and the groups’ behavior is enough to make anyone who loved the place swear never to go back: They are loud, rude, cannot line up, will get in your way, push you — and that’s not to mention those who cannot help themselves and need to remind cleaning ladies and other employees that the Chinese have landed, and that they are Taiwan’s “money gods.”

Taiwanese, left, PRC citizen, right

As if this wasn’t irritating enough, pro-unification groups have now made the Xinyi entrance their regular spot to spew their propaganda. Almost every day, they gather, waving large People’s Republic of China (PRC) flags, singing songs, and shouting, with the help of megaphones, their identity as “Chinese.” 

This also happens to be the point of disembarkation for Chinese tour groups, which I suspect is no coincidence, as the pro-unification minority in Taiwan probably seeks to create the impression that they actually matter as a political force. Every day, hundreds, probably thousands of Chinese tourists are exposed to such a spectacle.

Now, Taiwan is a democracy, and we enjoy free speech. As such, I have no problem with Taiwanese — or, to put it officially, citizens of the Republic of China (ROC) — expressing their political views, even if, personally, I regard their desire for unification with a country run by a murderous and tyrannical regime utterly naïve, if now downright abhorrent. What I have a problem with, however, is the authorities’ double standards in the application of laws barring foreigners from engaging in political activity.

With nothing better to do on a sunny Saturday afternoon, I reluctantly visited the area to snap a few pictures, aware that around 2pm or so the same group would materialize and occupy the entrance. Sure enough, they were there, the huge flags fluttering like rivers of blood (I’m sorry, but the PRC flag gives me the chills). A few hundred people, all of them Chinese tourists, formed a circle round them, laughing and applauding. A few were engaged in talks with one of the organizers. One woman next to me kept giggling, probably in reaction to the look on my face. Two cops were on the side, looking on silently.

Chinese tourists waves the flag

I mingled with them, snapping pictures. Then it happened: Dozens of Chinese tourists who had just gotten off their bus left their group and, one by one, grabbed a huge PRC flag and waved it proudly as other members of their groups took pictures. Besides them, one man sang Wo shi zhongguo ren! (I am Chinese), sparking a round of cheers and applause.

I went over to the cops and asked them whether this was legal. “Yes it is,” the younger of the two told me. “This is a public space.” Fair enough, I said, but you’re aware that those are not Taiwanese. Chinese tourists — foreigners — are taking part in what obviously constitutes political activity. “No,” he answered, smiling. “Those are all Taiwanese.”

The cop must either have thought I was a complete cretin, or that I was blind (or both). Not only did the participants not look one bit Taiwanese, but I’d seen them get off the bus and they all wore a little sticker on their sleeve identifying them as part of a Chinese tour group. “Those are Chinese,” I retorted. But by then, it was clear that the cops were no longer interested in talking to me and stared straight ahead, probably hoping I’d go away. One of the participants, a woman with a cap of Sun Yat-sen and a handheld camera, came over. She’d evidently overheard our conversation and felt she had to say something. “They’re not foreigners,” she said. “We’re all Chinese!” I retorted that we were in Taiwan, that this wasn’t China, whereupon, seized with anger, she hollered that Taiwan is part of China and that I should mind my goddamn business anyway because I’m a foreigner in this land. With a wave of my hand, I told her to get lost, while the cops politely asked her to go away.

The woman who told me to get lost

The truly infuriating thing in all this is that PRC citizens and the rest of us seem to be subject to different rules. In 2010, Kenji Tanabe, a 38-year-old Japanese tourist, was expelled and made persona non grata for five years for raising a banner supporting Taiwanese independence on Yushan. The authorities said the man had broken domestic laws by involving himself with politics. Apparently waving a PRC flag and changing pro-unification slogans outside a major landmark in the capital doesn’t constitute such a crime. Or PRC citizens are somehow exempt.

What I would also have liked to ask the cops was to explain why, during the annual Free Tibet parade marking the 55^th anniversary of the PLA invasion of Tibet last Sunday, police and security staff at Taipei 101 were asking participants not to approach the plaza and to stay away from the sidewalk. One of them extended his arms and prevented two activists from getting closer. I was there, but sadly I didn’t bring my camera that day (I’d been drinking expensive red wine and brandy with a recently appointed minister). Even more puzzling is the fact that the said participants (one of them is a friend) were quite evidently Taiwanese — in other words, ROC citizens, fully entitled to hold protests and to express their views in their own land. Apparently that, too, was unacceptable.

With this, I can only conclude that the Chinese now enjoy extraterritorial rights in Taiwan, rights that, needless to say, trump those of mere foreigners like myself and, more importantly, those of Taiwanese. (Photos by the author)

Taiwan watching Crimea with nervous eye toward Beijing

If Russian gets away with irredentist aggression in its Near Abroad, China could be tempted to adopt a similar strategy with Taiwan

Days ahead of a referendum that could result in the loss of the southern territory of Crimea to Russia, Taiwan, which like Ukraine lives in the shadow of a great power, is watching closely to see whether Moscow’s gambit could embolden Beijing to adopt similar strategies toward the island democracy. 

While Crimea serves as an imperfect analogy for Taiwan’s situation, there are enough parallels to warrant an exploration of the current crisis and its denouement to determine if they can possibly create a precedent for Chinese behavior. Key to this effort is the fact that both Moscow and Beijing have notions of the “Near Abroad”—that is, territories that, while foreign and sovereign, their governments regard as fair game.

My article, published today in The National Interest, continues here.

Why spy on Taiwan when Taiwan gives information away for free?

Despite improving relations, Chinese espionage against Taiwan never abated. Here are a few examples, plus worrying revelations about a firm that may have subcontracted work to a Chinese company 

Chinese espionage against Taiwan, the self-ruled, democratic island claimed by Beijing as a “breakaway” province awaiting “re-unification,” has kept intelligence experts awake at night for decades. People have long worried about aggressive espionage by China’s intelligence apparatus and leaks by members of Taiwan’s armed forces. Now, according to the island’s top intelligence chief, we have something else to fear: Government agencies giving loads of confidential information to the Chinese — for free.

Even as relations improved between the two sides following the election of President Ma Ying-jeou of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in 2008, collection by China’s civilian and military intelligence agencies targeting the island, as well as cyber intrusions, never subsided. While it would seem contradictory — and perhaps counterproductive — for Beijing to maintain an aggressive intelligence posture against the island amid warming ties, China’s multifaceted approach to Taiwan, a mix of incentives and threats, explains why. Furthermore, as growing economic and cultural ties have yet to yield political dividends for China in terms of making unification likelier, Beijing is keen on obtaining as detailed a picture of its opponent as possible should the day come when rulers in Zhongnanhai decide that non-peaceful means are necessary to resolve the issue once and for all.

My article, published today in The Diplomat, continues here. (Photo by the author)

US, Japan to jointly develop Littoral Combat Ship

The J-LCS will reportedly be intended for quick intervention in shallow waters to counter vessels such as China’s Type 022 and Type 056

Amid escalating tensions between Japan and China, a 12.2 percent budget increase in China’s defense spending, and fears that budget cuts for the U.S. military could have a negative impact on the United States’ ability to “pivot” to Asia, U.S. and Japanese officials have announced plans to co-develop a new high-speed vessel capable of carrying helicopters.

Following a meeting between U.S. Ambassador to Japan Caroline Kennedy and Japanese Foreign Minister Fumio Kishida on March 4, the two governments announced that the Japanese Defense Ministry and the U.S. Department of Defense would hold studies for the joint development of the vessel under the bilateral Mutual Defense Assistance (MDA) agreement.

Although very little information has been released about the project, analysts contend that the trimaran would likely be a lighter variant of the U.S. Navy’s 3,000-tonne littoral combat ship (LCS), a platform designed primarily for missions in shallow coastal waters.

My article, published today in The Diplomat, continues here.

Kunming massacre sparks media war

Accusations by China of biased reporting by Western media on the Kunming massacre highlight a civilizational gap in traditions of journalism

By now we’ve all heard about Saturday night’s bloodbath at the Kunming Railway Station, where a dozen individuals wearing black uniforms descended upon innocent civilians and slashed away at them with long blades, killing 29 and injuring more than 130. The targeting of civilians is a terribly worrying development.

The reaction of the party-state has also been perturbing, especially the vitriol that was immediately unleashed against reporting by Western media. Since the attack, major media outlets in China have decried what they saw as “double standards” in their reporting on what Beijing immediately called “terrorism.” Critics have singled out CNN for a headline that initially put terrorism in inverted quotes (“Knife-wielding ‘terrorists’ kill 28, injure dozens at China train station”). Along with CNN, The Associated Press (AP), the New York Times and the Washington Post have also been criticized for “presenting their audiences and their readership with a distorted view of events.”

My article, published today at the China Policy Institute Blog, University of Nottingham, continues here.

Adding a bit of anger to the 228 commemorations

Events surrounding the anniversary of the 228 Massacre are usually sober, depressing things. Some people are changing that, and the results are surprising

Every year as Feb. 28 approaches I can feel the sadness descend upon certain Taiwanese. That date, written in blood and known as 228 for short, is the anniversary of the 1947 crackdown by Nationalist forces against an escalating insurgency targeting government corruption and inefficiency. In the weeks and months that followed the initial incident, several thousand Taiwanese, Aborigines, Hakka and Mainlanders were slain and imprisoned by KMT troops in an orgy of blood meant to force the population into submission. As many as 20,000 people were killed, most of them highly educated and politically connected Taiwanese. The massacre opened the door to the White Terror, a period that did not end until the late 1980s as Taiwan democratized.

Inevitably, 228 is also the date when the revisionists come out. Some aim to downplay the role of Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) and the KMT in the massacre. Others argue that nobody (or everybody) was responsible (a new one this year: An academic claimed that ultimately it was the Japanese who were responsible for 228 because of the “chaos” that they had left in their wake following the conclusion of World War II). Another one, this one by a person who is in charge of the “minor” revisions to high-school textbooks: The massacre of 20,000 people was a “small case.”

Evidently, such comments cannot but bring pain to the victims and their descendants, and contribute nothing to the healing, reconciliation, and understanding that are necessary for the nation to move forward. 

Comparisons might help fully understand the scope of the 228 Massacre. Taiwan’s population at the time was about 6.5 million. Using a conservative estimate of 20,000 people killed, this means that 0.3 percent of the population was slain, most of them men. The same ratio today would mean approximately 70,000 victims. In the U.S., this would mean more than 958,000 killed; in China, 3.9 million.  

The challenge is to keep the issue alive at a time when, decades later, it is perhaps “convenient” to forget the past, or to buy into the propaganda claiming that the incident was indeed a small matter. After all, some would say, it’s now been 67 years. The problem with this line of thought is that 228 remains a key formative event in the nation’s history, a defining moment that reminded everybody of the reasons why they wanted nothing to do with China’s violent tendencies. For many, Taiwan was to China what North America was to the settlers who had fled the scorpion-filled bottle of warring Europe, hoping for a new start, for a better life.

I’ve often worried that the format of the 228 commemorations might no longer be suitable for young audiences. From what I had witnessed here in Taiwan over the years, and based on accounts by Taiwanese Americans, the events are usually limited to emotional speeches by elderly victims and choir ensembles. There is obviously a need for those, if only for the victims and their descendants. But that is insufficient, especially if the goal is to attract a new generation of Taiwanese.

Fish Lin and Community Service

Hence my great surprise in the past two years, where the organizers of the 228 events at Liberty Square in Taipei have succeeded in offering something for everybody. For one, the site was transformed into a venue where various activist groups sold T-shirts, books, DVDs and food (including “freedom sausages”), distribute pamphlets, and raised awareness about their causes. This year’s event had a plethora of activists, from self-help groups against forced evictions to supporters of same-sex marriage. All of this occurred under the umbrella of the 228 commemorations, and near a stage where musicians, politicians and academics each in their own way made their contributions to remembering and understanding the massacre.

Chang Jui-chuan

More than ever before, musicians also demonstrated the power of music to engender emotional responses and reach out to people who might otherwise have little interest in politics, let alone events of 67 years ago. This year, performers included a traditional choir, a modern dance troupe, a theatrical ensemble, as well as various musicians, from the hip-hop group Community Service (勞動服務), global hip-hop singer Chang Jui-chuan (張睿銓), rock band Fire Extinguisher (滅火器), and extreme metal band Burning Island (火燒島), among others. (Interestingly, “burning island” is also the name political prisoners gave to the infamous Green Island, which “looked ablaze” from the sunlight reflection.)

Fire Extinguisher

What’s interesting about those bands is that they are all political. Some of them, like the members of Community Service, are often spotted at protests. Others, like Louie Lu (pictured at the top), who does lead vocals  — mostly “cookie monster” guttural howls in Taiyu — for Burning Island, are well known for their comments on various social issues. Those artists join others before them in telling Taiwan’s story. More than that, and perhaps more importantly, their art serves to channel youth’s energy, which can be a powerful tool for change if it is used wisely (no wonder that Little J of Community Service has launched a “music to change the world” apparel chain). The energy unleashed when Lu, speaking in Taiwanese, hurled invective at the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall behind us on 228, or when his band launched barrage after barrage of heavy metal, was something to behold. Similar feats were achieved when Fire Extinguisher sang “Goodnight Taiwan,” or when Fish Lin of Community Service encouraged the crowd to sing with him on “Civil Revolt Pt. 2.”

Three very different genres, and much less contemplative than the macabre dance and melancholy choir, but unsurpassed in their shared ability to engage youth while delivering a message. These guys are on to something. Silly alterations to history textbooks by pseudo-educators do not stand a chance in the face of the emotions, the anger, unleashed by such performances. These guys are on to something. (Photos by the author)

Going nuclear is not an option: A response to Mearsheimer and his critics

A response to Mearsheimer’s predictions and to those who advocate for the ultimate deterrent for Taiwan

One can almost always anticipate the response whenever John J. Mearsheimer, the famous political scientist from the University of Chicago, says or writes anything about China and the fate of Taiwan. Sure enough, a recent commentary by Mearsheimer in the National Interest, gloomily titled “Say Goodbye to Taiwan,” has attracted the expected derision while sparking calls for Taiwan to develop the ultimate deterrent — nuclear weapons.

Granted, Mearsheimer’s conclusions are hard to swallow. Although he recognizes that most Taiwanese have no interest in being run by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) or seeing their country become part of the People’s Republic of China (PRC), Mearsheimer argues that Chinese national power will become such that the island will have no choice but to strike the best deal it can and become part of the PRC. In other words, despite the wishes of Taiwan’s 23 million, a Chinese hegemon will compel them to capitulate, the “least bad” option among future scenario that could include a devastating invasion by the People’s Liberation Army (PLA).

My article, published today on the China Policy Institute Blog, continues here. (Photo by the author)

A Uganda model for Taiwan’s homosexual ‘problem’

A Christian leader in Kaohsiung praises the recent signing of laws in Uganda that impose life imprisonment for homosexuals. And he wishes the Taiwanese government could be as ‘courageous’

Really, the fundamental Christians in Taiwan never cease to impress. Every week now, one of them somewhere does or says something that, had he not purportedly ascended to heaven, would have made their Lord Jesus turn in his grave — or his grotto, or whatever. Their favorite target, of course, is other people’s sexuality, especially when it concerns two people of the same sex.

In the lead-up to the reprehensible events of 1130, those groups already gave us a flavor of their thoughts by conjuring a variety of lies to make their case that allowing gay unions would destroy family values and society in general. In the weeks after the protest, my investigations uncovered worrying links between the Christian organizations here and extremist Evangelical groups in the U.S., chief among them International House of Prayer (IHOP). The deeper I looked into the matter, the more evidence I found that IHOP and likeminded organizations, many of them advocating Dominionism, were slowly recruiting and infiltrating Taiwanese preachers and churches, while helping orchestrate mass “Asia For Jesus” events this year (which according to some of them should be the year of the “rise of the Christian family”).

IHOP, of course, made the news in recent months for its advocacy of laws in Uganda that, in the extreme, would impose the death penalty for homosexuals, or long prison sentences if such measures could not be passed.

I’d already uncovered the existence of a IHOP center in Taoyuan, and exposed some preachers who had gone through the process of indoctrination, sometimes with the financial assistance of a wealthy Taiwanese female entrepreneur (herself a devout Christian) whose brand of cell phones I shall never buy again.   

As it turns out, there is also a Kaohsiung House of Prayer (KHOP), and Pastor Van Weng, described as “young” and “charismatic,” has made it clear to us all that his views on homosexuality in Taiwan are as Precambrian as are those of IHOP elsewhere. In a post this week, Van Weng, or PVW, as I choose to call him, praised Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni for his “bravery” in signing the anti-gay bill on Feb. 24 that imposes life sentences for gay sex and same-sex marriages. It also criminalizes the “promotion” of homosexuality, which means that gay activists, or even their heterosexual defenders, will be subject to imprisonment. (Since then, the Ugandan tabloid Red Pepper has released a list, with some pictures, of the top 200 suspected homosexuals in the country, sparking a renewed with hunt that so far has caused one death.)

Using (or as I’d argue, abusing) his freedom of speech, Pastor Van Weng went on to argue that he hoped Taiwanese society and its government would be as brave as Ugandans in their efforts to “protect the family.” The actual quote, which appears on the KHOP Facebook page and on a fan page for PVW:

為烏干達政府的勇敢和台灣的政府禱告～

台灣能表達其對於性別意識的主權嗎？如果主權表示我們可以表達一件事的意見，我相信台灣的百姓可以選擇我們對於家庭價值的立場！

No surprise here: PVW went through his own rounds of indoctrination with IHOP Atlanta, and brought his family along with him.

Encountering criticism, PVW lamely claimed, as they always do, that his comments were taken “out of context” and that of course there were differences between Taiwan and Uganda. After all, he said, the African country had just recently emerged from an AIDS crisis. So PVW digs his hole even deeper (ironically one of KHOP’s slogans is “go deep”) and unscientifically links AIDS epidemics to homosexuality, one of many rhetorical tools used by extremist groups who oppose legalizing same-sex unions. The implicit threat, I suppose, is that if Taiwan does not combat homosexuality, it risks going the way of Uganda and face its own AIDS crisis.

The pastor is right to claim that sovereignty grants the people the right to express their views about “internal matters.” But freedom of expression runs into a wall when it seeks to impose the views of a minority upon the majority by blocking legal amendments in defiance of the majority opinion, particularly so when their arguments are based on lies, pseudoscience, and bigotry — and forgive me for saying so, but praising dictator Museveni for enacting laws that blatantly violate human rights, and wising similar “wisdom” in Taiwan, isn’t speech of the type that deserves protection. It’s hate speech, pure and simple, and some Western democracies, such as my home country, have laws against that.   

The alliance against same-sex marriage will come out again in March. As you encounter them in the streets, when they force their silly little pamphlets on you, and as you listen to their purported message of love, remember that in their midst there are people like PVW and others in positions of authority in their world of frantic isolation who went to the IHOP school of hatred. 

The return of gangster politics in Taiwan

Less than a year after his return to Taiwan, a top Bamboo Union leader-turned-politician is using scare tactics in a way that undermines Taiwan's democracy and social stability

For those who are getting bored with the traditional “green” versus “blue” divide in Taiwan’s politics, things are becoming a lot more interesting with the return to Taiwan, after 17 years in exile, of the most-wanted fugitive-turned-politician Chang An-le in June 2013. Since his return, Chang, a former leader of the Bamboo Union triad and founder of a pro-unification party, appears to have embraced Taiwan’s democratic system by appearing on TV shows and opening campaign offices around the country. But old habits die hard, and the 65-year-old has resorted to threats and intimidation to leave his mark on local and national politics.

The White Wolf, as Chang is also known, returned to Taiwan in late June 2013, and was promptly arrested at Taipei International Airport (Songshan) by police officers. Hours later, he was released on NT$1 million (about US$30,000) bail, and immediately embarked on a campaign to spread his “peaceful reunification” propaganda, which he had condensed into a small blue booklet. Since then, Chang has opened a number of political offices around the country, with no known date for court appearances.

My article, published today in The Diplomat, continues here. (Photo by the author)

The dangers of economic proximity with China

In a U.S.-China trade war, Taiwan faces the risk of getting caught up in the crossfire

As Taiwan’s legislature prepares to review the controversial Cross-Strait Services Trade Agreement with China next month, apprehensions over the island’s growing economic reliance on China continue to rise. A recent anti-dumping case initiated by a U.S. trade commission, and subsequent decisions on legal representation, highlight the dangers — economic and political — that can arise from a further integration of the two economies.

The United States International Trade Commission (USITC) on February 14 said it had reason to believe that Chinese solar panel companies have used solar cell components built by a third party — Taiwanese firms — to circumvent heavy anti-dumping duties imposed on China in late 2012. U.S.-based SolarWorld Industries America, a subsidiary of the German firm SolarWorld AG, filed the initial complaint in 2012, which resulted in countervailing tariffs averaging 31 percent against Chinese solar makers. However, efforts back then to expand the tariffs so as to include Chinese solar panels made with non-Chinese solar cells were turned down, creating a loophole that China quickly exploited. (Some industry watchers, however, have suggested that SolarWorld is “manipulating U.S. trade procedure in order to prop up its own failing business.” Others argue that the “dumb” trade war could end up hurting the future of solar power.)

My article, published today in The Diplomat, continues here.

Beware of the arrows

If the DPP wants a real shot at regaining high office and fixing this country, it’ll have to clean up its act and rid itself of the dinosaurs and backstabbers

With the year-end seven-in-one and the 2016 presidential election approaching fast, I am reminded of what a wise man once observed about politics in Taiwan: “Beware of the arrows, especially those from within your own camp.” By arrows, the wise man meant the people in one’s political camp who will get very nasty as they endeavor to protect their narrow interests or those of their masters.

Recent efforts from within the green camp to discredit Ko Wen-je (柯文哲), the head of the Traumatology Unit at National Taiwan University and a potential candidate for the Taipei mayoral race, are a perfect example of this type of cannibalism. I’ve already addressed the issue in the context of “political dinosaurs,” and I now wish to expand on the theme of infighting, which is not unrelated to the prior notion.

While I’m sure there is a good share of dinosaurs and backstabbing within the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), my previous and current jobs have yielded more intimate insights into the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)-led pan-green camp, and this is the one that I intend to turn to in this entry, if only because it is the corner of the political spectrum that stands to lose the most from internecine battles. By doing so, I also intend to debunk the notion that the DPP cannot win elections because of the “unfair” and “imbalanced” political environment in Taiwan, which admittedly is skewed in the KMT’s favor, but not so much as to make victories impossible. After all, Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) did get elected in 2000 and was re-elected in 2004, at a time when the KMT’s fortunes were just as impressive.

What I have repeatedly witnessed from my vantage point as a journalist operating within a “green” environment is the self-defeating tendency of cliques to take a short-term, selfish, and extraordinarily myopic view of electoral politics, a one-against-all mindset that makes unity impossible and divisiveness a permanent state. Politicians do is, as do the sycophantic writers, academics, and journalists who gravitate round them. Rather than fight for the good of the country, they limit themselves to parochial and very narrow interests — getting elected. In the process, anything goes and all measures are brought into the ring, however ugly: smear campaigns, outright lies, defamation, and fabrication. Once those are repeated often enough in a media environment that, frankly, couldn’t care less about ethics, the lies eventually take on the garb of “truth” and can turn into powerful weapons by which to destroy one’s political opponent within the same camp. A receptive audience — both here in Taiwan and abroad among expatriates — that has a special taste for conspiracy theories and cannot bothered to check the facts (e.g., evidence that would support the claim that Ko, the most viable candidate within the green camp* at the moment, is a pawn of Beijing; or the political connections of an author making allegations against a candidate), only exacerbates the problem. Some members of the DPP, including a would-be contender for Taipei City, have a long history of turning on their own in such fashion, attacking potential (and younger) rivals with a web of lies. Others have done so using other easy targets, including gender (“skirts have no place in politics”) and family background (“politician X is from a KMT family and therefore cannot be trusted”).

In the end, the real losers from all this are the DPP itself, which often ends up fielding candidates that are not necessarily the most qualified, but are the savviest at playing nasty against their own people. And Taiwanese themselves, who end up with options that are disappointing and therefore leave them few options to choose from during elections. Facing this, the KMT need not even field extraordinary candidates to win elections. And the party wonders why young Taiwanese are turned off by politics…

The problem is that the green camp has allowed this to become standard practice. Those who engage in such behavior rarely, if ever, suffer the consequences of their acts, while the hopefuls who could make a difference or who refuse to stoop down to the level of the gutters, are quickly sidelined, dragged down by the muck of lies and hearsay thrown at them from all sides.

If the DPP wants a real shot at regaining high office and fixing this country, it’ll have to clean up its act and rid itself of the dinosaurs and backstabbers. (Photo by the author)

*Ko will likely run as an independent, but anyone who bothers to look into the people who are close to and support him should have no doubts as to where his heart lies.

Official intimidation of Taiwanese journalists

Freedom of the press rankings often do not include instances of subtle intimidation by officials, but the impact on journalists’ ability to do their job can be serious

Taiwan watchers always pay great attention to the annual freedom of the press rankings by organizations like Freedom House and Reporters Without Borders. Any drop in rankings, as Taiwan did this year in RSF’s report, slipping from 45^th in 2012 to 47^th in 2013, inevitably prompts accusations of Chinese interference and malicious controls by the government.

While the above reasons are certainly valid (e.g., the impact of the Want Want China Times Group), other variables — equally important variables — that affect journalists’ ability to conduct their work rarely get mentioned and are almost never used to weigh the quality of the media environment. With regards to Taiwan, two of those readily come to mind.

The first, which I witnessed firsthand on a number of occasions last year as I minored protest movements, were instances in which journalists were blocked access to certain venues by law-enforcement officials at the site, or government workers participating at public hearings. On several occasions, reporters were physically prevented from gaining access to a venue or dragged away by police officers (e.g., the “Edd Jhong incident” at the Executive Yuan); on others, public servants refused to hold public hearings until all reporters had left the room. While such incidents are hard to quantify and to put into numbers for rankings such as those prepared by RSF and FH, they nevertheless have a deleterious impact on the ability of journalists to conduct their work.

In other instances — and this constitutes our second variable — journalists were threatened by government officials after publishing their article. One such incident was made public today, in which Rosa Wang (王立柔), a young female reporter with the Storm Media Group, received an angry call on her personal cell phone on Jan. 29, the day the article that prompted the call was published. The person at the other end of the line, who according to Wang’s account of the matter, berated her for a full six minutes and threatened to contact the chairman of the media organization that employs her, was Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Legislator Lai Shyh-bao (賴世葆).

In her article, Wang, whom I have met on several occasions, exposed Lai as having played a central role, using his connections with Premier Jiang Yi-huah (江宜樺), in securing the rather controversial appointment of two anti-gay activists from the Safeguard the Family Alliance on a Ministry of Education committee for gender equality, appointments that drew heavy criticism from various organizations supporting the rights of homosexuals. Among other things, the two members have openly opposed equal treatment for gays and child adoption by same-sex couples in a campaign spearheaded by various Christian organizations. (Interestingly, Lai was present at the large rally against same-sex marriage on Nov. 30, where he spoke out against amendments to Article 972 of the Civil Code.)

Following his angry call, Lai renewed his attack on the young journalist during a press conference on Feb. 19, which prompted the reporter to comment on the matter on her Facebook page.

Needless to say, behavior such as Lai has no place in a democracy that prides itself in having the “freest” media in East Asia. There are proper channels for officials to express their displeasure with news coverage, including press releases, corrections, and if necessary and when warranted, lawsuits. But calling a journalist on her personal cell phone and blasting her for uncovering certain uncomfortable facts isn’t the way to go about it. This is intimidation, pure and simple.

Let’s hope that other Taiwanese journalists will follow Wang’s courageous example and expose any such infractions on the part of the authorities, as their chilling effect on Taiwan’s media environment can be just as nefarious as the behavior of China-friendly media moguls like Tsai Eng-meng (蔡衍明). (Photo by the author)

A propaganda coup for Beijing

The most significant result of the February visit by MAC Minister Wang was the propaganda impact for Beijing 

As Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council Minister Wang Yu-chi was wrapping up his four-day official visit to China on February 14, it was clear that the event, groundbreaking though it may have been, delivered very little in terms of concrete results — except one thing: a propaganda coup for Beijing.

Wang, a Cabinet minister in the Kuomintang (KMT) administration of President Ma Ying-jeou, was the first Taiwanese official to visit China in an official capacity since 1949, when Chinese Communist Party (CCP) successes in the Civil War forced the KMT to flee to Taiwan. Prior to Wang’s visit, relations between the two sides of the Taiwan Strait had been limited to exchanges between Taiwan’s Straits Exchange Foundation (SEF) and China’s Association for Relations Across the Taiwan Strait (ARATS), two semi-official bodies created to handle dialogue.

No sooner had Wang landed in Nanjing for a series of meetings than international media and China’s propaganda arm hailed the breakthrough as something of great significance.

My article, published today in The Diplomat, continues here. (Photo by the author)

Sacred totalitarianism

The Bible talks about love and tolerance, but its followers often lose sight of how those values apply in real life

Amid chants and ululations (“she-de-ba-ba-ba, she-de-ba-ba-ba…”), the pastor approaches what Taiwanese refer to as the gongma — the Buddhist ancestral shrine often found in households in this part of the world — grabs a few relics and drops them into a cardboard box. He then unsheathes a machete, retrieves a wooden statue of Guanyin, the Goddess of Life and Mercy, also puts her in the box, and proceeds to saw off her head and deface her with his blade.

It was all caught on film, and even as a nonreligious person, it sends shivers up my spine, knowing as I do how important Buddhism is in Taiwan.

According to the video, the ceremony was held by the Bread of Life Church, one of the largest Christian congregations in Taiwan. I’ve written about that Church before, mostly in the context of its role in the movement against the legalization of same-sex unions in Taiwan and its associations with extremist Christian organizations for the U.S., such as the cultish International House of Prayer.

After I posted the video online yesterday, a friend, who is a member of the Bread of Life Church, kindly provided clarifications about what he says is known as “idol removal,” a ceremony that is held after a person — in this case a Buddhist — has converted to Christianity. My friend quickly pointed out that while the ritual is commonplace, the destruction of idols, such as the one that occurs in the video, is a departure from the “norm,” which misrepresents the spirit of the act and risks giving the Church a bad reputation.

Fair enough, and I’m glad to hear that. Still, I have issues with the Christian notion that other religions are nothing more than idolatry, or the worship of “false gods” that misleads people away from the “real” God. The Bible is full of references to sanctions against worshipping other gods, among them “Do not worship any other god, for the lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God” (Exodus 34:14).

Granted, most such references are to be found in the Old Testament, a book that has much in common with excesses that are usually associated with the Taliban or the Saudi Wahhabism that inspired upstanding human beings like Osama bin Laden. But Christian intolerance for other religions is alive and well today, especially among Dominionist movements that seek to spread the word of God, and belief in a direct relationship with Jesus, to every corner of the world — including here in Taiwan.

The incident seen in the video is not isolated; other pastors have made similar remarks during sermons in Taiwan.

The problem with this form of Christianity is that it is zero-sum and does not regard other religions as coequal. Instead, anyone who does not believe in God lives in sin and can only be redeemed through conversion. To support its actions, the Church echoes the sayings of the “jealous God” by depicting other religions as a lesser form of religious activity — hence the reference to Guanyin and other Buddhist deities as mere idols. Put that in the context of Christianity emerging at a time when it was competing with other religions, and we can quickly surmise why the authors of the texts would encourage institutional and systematic intolerance towards other forms of veneration. (Would an employee at Burger King encourage a customer to go to McDonald’s, where the burgers are better? Of course not; business is a zero-sum affair, a race for the maximization of profit at the expense of the competition.)

Religious intolerance for other views, and the conviction that their religious beliefs are the only Truth and their god the only god, has all the hallmarks of totalitarianism. And we know from history what such a worldview usually does to those who stand in its way.

I agree that most Christians do not actively seek to convert others, but the conviction — which is taught them over years of man-made indoctrination — that only they know the Truth nevertheless contains the dangerous seeds of intolerance, and helps creates the conditions that are necessary for abuse, should religious leaders decide to go down that path, as we saw in the events surrounding the Nov. 30 protest in Taipei against legislative amendments allowing same-sex marriage.

Not too long ago (on a planetary timescale, that is), people in the West firmly believed in Greek and Roman and Norse gods, truly, utterly convinced that those entities were the only “real gods” in whose name it was perfectly permissible to inflict atrocities upon non-believers, or believers in other gods. Today, nobody believes in those gods, and their appeal is to be found only in the mythical literature, history books, and anthropological studies that make them their subject. Thousands of years later, we regard those believers with something close to derision, and wonder how people could ever have thought that gods expressed their anger by raising thunderstorms or visiting devastating earthquakes upon sinners down on earth (extremist Christians in the U.S. still believe in such punishments, though, with preachers blaming natural catastrophes, or the 9/11 attacks, on such “sins” as homosexuality). How can today’s Christians (and their analogues in other equally intolerant religions) be certain that their beliefs will not go down the same route, to be regarded as delusion a thousand years from now?

I’m not making the case against religion per se, though I would argue that the world would be a much better — and safer — place without it. What I take issue with is the intolerance, the totalitarianism, at the root of world religions and the belief that its adherents have the primacy on Truth and Morality, which often translates into condescension and, worse, intrusive abuse of others. Defenders can claim that excesses are not taught in the Bible, the Koran, and other sacred texts, but all do teach their followers that other religions are wrongs that need remediation and, if ultimately, excision.

Sacred texts purport to teach love and tolerance. Somehow the institutions often forget to apply those principles in their interactions with the real world. (Photo by the author)

Five futuristic weapons that could change warfare

Revolutions in waiting? Yes and no, depending on the type of conflict involved

Predicting which five weapons will have the greatest impact on the future of combat is a problematic endeavor, as the nature of warfare itself is fluid and constantly changing. A system that could be a game-changer in a major confrontation between two conventional forces—say, China and the United States—could be of little utility in an asymmetrical scenario pitting forces in an urban theater (e.g., Israeli forces confronting Palestinian guerrillas in Gaza or Lebanese Hezbollah in the suburbs of Beirut).

The world’s best fifth-generation stealth combat aircraft might be a game-changer in some contexts, but its tremendous speed and inability to linger makes it unsuitable to detect and target small units of freedom fighters operating in a city, not to mention that using such platforms to kill a few irregular soldiers carrying AK-47s is hardly cost effective. Special forces equipped with hyperstealth armor and light assault rifles firing “intelligent” small-caliber ammunition would be much more effective, and presumably much cheaper.

My commentary article, published today in The National Interest, continues here.

Attack of the Dinosaurs

Some elders within Taiwan’s Democratic Progressive Party simply won’t let go. And this is hurting their cause

Given the way Taiwan’s main opposition, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), is handling the lead-up to the all-important seven-in-one municipal elections in November, one could be forgiven for thinking that it is doing its very best not to win. Shortsighted goals, selfish attitudes, and aging politicians who refuse to make way for future generations of leaders help explain why.

At this point, the ruling Kuomintang (KMT), whose poor governing performance since 2008 should make it vulnerable to a landslide, won’t even need to field formidable candidates to keep its grip on the nation’s key municipalities.

Time and again in recent years, supporters of the pro-DPP green camp have blamed their electoral defeats on “vote buying,” the KMT’s wealth advantage, or “brainwashed” citizens who don’t know what’s best for them. While the first two variables often play a role in elections here, another factor has also made it difficult for the DPP to change the political landscape: its inability — and sometimes unwillingness — to field candidates who can appeal to both sides of the political spectrum and to various segment of society.

My article, published today on the CPI Blog at University of Nottingham, continues here. (Photo by the author)

Turbulence ahead for Taiwan’s F-16 upgrade program?

Initial reports said the US Air Force’s budget decisions have thrown a wrench in Taiwan’s air force modernization program, but sources now say the program remains on track

Already denied F-16C/D combat aircraft it has sought to acquire for years, Taiwan could now be the unintended victim of “very tough” budgetary decisions by the U.S. Air Force that run the risk of derailing a $5.3 billion retrofit program for the island’s 146 F-16A/B aircraft, according to recent reports that are now being disputed.

Articles published earlier this week citing unnamed U.S. Air Force sources have claimed that the Pentagon’s FY 2015 budget proposal, to be submitted to Congress on March 4, could cut funding for a planned combat avionics programmed extension suite (CAPES) for 300 USAF F-16C/D aircraft and instead allocate funds for a less ambitious service-life extension program (SLEP).

Sources say that the move, which reportedly has received support from some members of the USAF who favor larger allocations of money for fifth-generation aircraft, could delay or perhaps even derail the planned upgrade of Taiwan’s 146 F-16s (and possibly 60 F-16s in the Singaporean Air Force), which stood to benefit from the economy of scale generated by the CAPES program.

My article, published today in The Diplomat, continues here. (Photo by the author)

Beyond the ‘little fortunate life’ (中文 link at bottom)

On the surface, ‘Twa-Tiu-Tiann’ is light entertainment for the Lunar New Year. But its director has other purposes for his film

Last week I had the chance to attend the premiere of Nelson Yeh’s (葉天倫) latest movie, Twa-Tiu-Tiann (大稻埕) in Taipei. I’d run into Nelson before, during a protest against media monopolization, and later at a rally organized by entertainers in support of residents of Dapu, Miaoli County, whose homes were being demolished by the government. I knew, therefore, that despite featuring variety show host Chu Ko Liang (豬哥亮) and other popular actors, Yeh’s latest film would offer something more than simple entertainment. And it did, though I suspect some critics fail to understand what he was trying to do achieve.

I won’t give the plot away, and I urge people to go watch it. Suffice it to say that the movie has a time travel component, in which Jack, a typical, self-absorbed, apolitical young contemporary Taiwanese man, is dragged back in time to the Japanese colonial period in the 1920s, where he becomes embroiled in the birth pangs of a Taiwan nationalist movement. From his experiences and by befriending Chiang Wei-shui (蔣渭水), a key figure in the resistance movement, Jack learns several lessons, from the importance of knowing one’s history (often a problem with younger generations in Taiwan) to avoiding the pitfalls of living in the past (often a problem with older generations of Taiwanese). Jack returns to the present, ready to create his own “golden era” of fighting for his country against odds that are only hinted at but that should be clear to anyone who knows anything about the existential threat that Taiwan faces today.

This is simple enough stuff, which is told with humor, the necessary romantic components, and a solid recreation of Dihua Street (迪化街).

While the movie has been doing extremely well at the box office, it has encountered some criticism, especially among people who are acquainted with the history and Chiang’s role. Some have pointed to historical inaccuracies, while others have complained that the film isn’t “serious enough.”

Director Yeh at the premiere

Fair enough, and the movie does have its inaccuracies and shortcomings. But Yeh, who knows his history, is intelligent enough to also know that a historically accurate documentary was not the best format to accomplish his goals — and by goals I don’t mean making money. Twa-Tiu-Tiann is an entertainment and uses well-known actors because to attract people who otherwise would have no interest in knowing about Chiang and other people from a century ago who defied their colonial masters. (Some critics, such as student leader Chen Wei-ting (陳為廷), understand this, which is why they still encourage people to go see the movie.) If only 5 percent of those who watch the movie subsequently want to know more about Chiang, and if another 5 percent decides to join the ranks of the young Taiwanese today who are creating their own “golden era,” then Yeh will have succeeded. And as I said, Yeh, along with some of the actors in the film, has been out there on the streets with the young activists. His goal is to inspire, to draw a line of continuity between the past, the present, and the future, and to demonstrate how much more meaningful life can be if young people become political, if they care beyond their “little fortunate lives.”

Which brings me back to Dapu, or more specifically on Ketagalan Boulevard on August 18 last year, when thousands of people rallied against forced evictions and the demolition of people’s homes by state and corporate interests. At one point during the protest, my friend Fish Lin of the hip hop band Kou Chou Ching, addressed the crowd and bemoaned the tendency among Taiwanese to be content with what can be loosely translated as their “little fortunate lives” (小確辛, a term first used by Japanese author Haruki Murakami). By that, Lin, a regular presence at protests, meant people’s selfish tendency to not involve themselves in civil society or politics as long as events do not directly affect their lives. (“The X family home was demolished, but as long as it’s not my home that is being targeted, there is no reason why I should involve myself, as doing so will cause me unnecessary trouble.”)

If we extend that way of thinking to the national stage, we can more easily explain why Taiwanese often exhibit little alarm when an authoritarian giant threatens the future of their country and their way of life, and when the policies of their government seem to invite the realization of that threat. This national trait could very well be the consequence of a society which under Martial Law and the White Terror was conditioned into believing that one had better mind his own business and not get involved in the affairs of others. Now the White Terror is no more, but it has been replaced by a new terror, that of authoritarian China, which has succeeded, through a campaign of propaganda, in convincing many that unification is inevitable. If such an outcome is inevitable, then the victims might as well not worry about politics and focus instead on maximizing their own selfish interests in preparation for annexation (“KMT or CCP, as long as I have a smartphone, a decent job, my daily latté from Starbucks and a roof over my head, why bother?”). Of course there is nothing inevitable about unification, but many people in Taiwan believe that this is the case — which reminds me of a key scene in Yeh’s movie when Rose, Jack’s love interest, scoffs at the mention that Japan, which seemed like an invincible force at the time, would “surrender” one day.

I’ve touched on this subject before, by arguing that the “status quo” that defines Taiwan’s existence and its relations with China has also created the conditions for a society in which everybody fends for himself: Make a little bit of money, get a good education, build a home, and lie low as history passes you by. By doing so, people become apolitical and rarely, if ever, confront the authorities. This, in turn, encourages passivity and mediocrity — even among Taiwan’s purported defenders — which the nation, given its situation, simply cannot afford.

The ranks of politicized Taiwanese are growing slowly. But the majority of them remain little Jacks, satisfied with a world that rarely extends beyond their smartphones, girlfriends, and the job that allows them to keep both. If Taiwan is to survive as a distinct society, many more people will have to realize that having limited material aspirations just isn’t good enough. 

(Small anecdote: Minister of Culture Lung Ying-tai (龍應台) was at the press conference prior to the premiere on Jan. 28. As she walked on stage, a female fan who was standing next to us excitedly told her boyfriend that the minister was there. Whereupon the boyfriend said with irony, “I don't know why she's here [the ministry provided some funding], since she knows so little about Taiwanese cinema anyway.”)  (Photos by the author)

New! A Chinese-language translation of this article is available here.