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.

Those who would turn back the clock in Taiwan (中文 link at bottom)

The religious leader of an alliance opposing same-sex marriage brushes elbows with a pro-unification gangster; The Catholic Church distances itself from the extremists

Just when you thought that the revelations about the wonderful people behind the Taiwan Interreligious Coalition for Cherishing the Family couldn’t get any more damaging, things still get weirder. As if associating with ChristianEvangelical zealots and espousing their reprobate ideology in their opposition to same-sex marriage were not enough, we now learn that the spokesperson for the Alliance is socializing with another man whose vision for Taiwan’s involves turning back the clock — Chang An-le (張安樂). Yes, the gangster and former leader of the Bamboo Union Triad-turned “politician.”

We already know that the Taiwan Interreligious Coalition for Cherishing the Family is closely associated with the Happiness of the Next Generation Alliance, the umbrella organization behind the deplorable rally on Nov. 30 against amendments to the Civil Code that would legalize same-sex marriage in Taiwan. In December I shared a panel with Chang Chuan-fong (張全鋒), the spokesman for the Coalition, whose discourse on the nefariousness of homosexuality and the social/moral harms of gay marriage was a perfect echo of what the Alliance and Coalition have been saying for months.

What struck me then was the extent to which the argument against amendments to Article 972 relied on (lies aside) antiquated views about science, morals, philosophy, sexuality and the family. In other words, their case had validity only if we turned back the clock, and turning back the clock is exactly the outcome in store for us should they prevail in their endeavors to insinuate themselves into other people’s bedrooms.

Now, this is an event I’m happy I missed: 「多元文化與儒家倫理綱常研討會」(“Multicultural Seminar on Confucianism and Moral Order,” held on Jan. 19. Chang the Moonist (Unification Church) and head of the Coalition delivered the keynote speech on “marriage and family ethics,” while Chang the gangster was no less than the special guest. Topics under discussion during the daylong event (which could just as well have been called a conference on medievalism) included “civic morality and Confucian ethics,” “Confucian values for high-school textbooks” and “the family is the school of love.”

By no means to I mean to imply that Chang An-le’s participation at the seminar indicates his support for the actions of the Alliance and Coalition against same-sex marriage, and in fact I do not know what he thinks of the matter. However, it is interesting to note that a link to the conference schedule is provided on the Taiwan Family website, which serves as the rallying point for the campaign against 972. What we also know about the man is that during his sixteen years in exile in China he cultivated ties with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and created the Unification Party in Taiwan, whose ultimate aim is to foster “peaceful reunification.” Following his return to Taiwan and release on bail in late June 2013, Chang An-le distributed pamphlets, opened campaign headquarters, and appeared on various talk shows. In the process, Chang repeatedly showcased his poor understanding of the progress that Taiwan has made as a democracy, and often his solutions for social problems — “what would the CCP do?” — would force Taiwan to turn back the clock and undo much of the liberalization that has occurred in the past thirty years or so.

In that sense, the two Changs, who must have exchanged business cards, are of the same mind. Whether this further discredits the Alliance and Coalition remains to be seen, but it certainly adds yet another disreputable figure to the long list of individuals who gravitate around its ultraconservative core.

But it’s not all bad news. A split seems to be emerging between Taiwan’s moderate Catholic Church and the more extremist elements that have spearheaded efforts to block amendments to Article 972. Chao Hsin-pin (趙欣品), a representative of the Catholic Church, last week opined that the Alliance and Coalition had gone too far and apologized for some of the rhetoric and methods adopted to counter the movement in favor of same-sex unions, including references to the spread of AIDS. While Chao didn’t immediately call for a break with the Alliance (or the abandonment of efforts to block 972 for that matter) — she in fact encouraged more Catholics to join, presumably to dilute the radicalism — she also warned that if dialogue failed, some elements within the Catholic Church would break their ties with the movement.

It will be interesting to see how this plays out as the Alliance prepares for the next phase of activities sometime in March. 

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

Why China’s aircraft carrier program makes (some) sense

China’s interest in aircraft carriers is a strategic calculation based in the psychology of modern warfare

The reactions to what appeared to be theconfirmation last week that China has embarked on a program to build its own aircraft carrier were as varied as they were expected, ranging from alarmism to the usual dismissal of the large platforms as little more than hugely expensive boats for enemy target practice. While carriers do indeed have severe vulnerabilities, they are not without their uses, though those are a function of the role(s) they are expected to play. 

The first role is more psychological than utilitarian. There is no doubt that China’s domestic program is directly related to the country’s desire to be regarded as a major power, of which aircraft carriers, warts notwithstanding, serve as an undeniable symbol. Although the acquisition of the ex-Varyag, its eventual refurbishment, and its rechristening as the Liaoning following its entry into service, provided a major boost to China’s self-image, the platform nevertheless served as reminder of China’s reliance on external assistance. For that reason alone, a domestic carrier will help China cross a very important psychological barrier and signal to the world that it is now a major and, perhaps more importantly, self-sufficient power. 

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

A rude awakening for Taiwan’s Presidential Office

While walls can be erected to ensure better protection, they will do nothing to resolve the widening chasm between those in power and the growing number of ordinary Taiwanese who have lost faith in the ability of their government to rule their country 

Chang Ter-cheng (張德正), a 41-year-old truck driver and former Air Force officer, had serious grievances against the government. As he explained in a letter he sent to various Taiwanese media prior to his act, he did not expect to come out alive in the early hours of Jan. 25 after he crashed his 35-tonne truck into the Presidential Office in Taipei.

In the end, a bulletproof gate pulled down in extremis by security staff stopped the speeding vehicle in its tracks, but not after it had rammed through a series of light protective barriers and careened up the steps leading to the main building. Chang suffered serious injuries, including a collapsed lung, but didn’t die and remains in intensive care.

Still signs of damage two days later

As more details emerge, we can slowly piece together the factors that pushed Chang over the edge. Some media, as well as police authorities, have sought to downplay the political aspects of the attack — Chang had recently lost a legal case following a troubled marriage — but his aforementioned letter and blog entries tell a much more complex story.

My article, published today on the China Policy Institute blog at the University of Nottingham, continues here. (Photos by the author)

The Status Quo: Taiwanese continue to prefer what they have

Taiwanese identification and desire for independence has increased just as cross-strait exchanges have deepened and as the Ma Administration has emphasized the Chinese roots of Taiwanese society

“Prediction is very difficult, especially if it’s about the future,” a famous Danish physicist once wrote. Any attempt to forecast where a country will be 20 or 30 years down the road is an educated guess at best. Doing so for a country like Taiwan is especially onerous, as the country’s future is contingent on the vagaries of a highly complex international system, chief among them China, which claims the self-ruled, democratic island of 23 million people as a breakaway province.

Despite the observable rapprochement between Taiwan and China seen in recent years — it has accelerated since the election of the Beijing-friendly Ma Ying-jeou of the Kuomintang (KMT) in 2008 — a majority of Taiwanese continue to prefer the “status quo” of no de jure independence and no unification.

The landmark Economic Co-operation Framework Agreement (ECFA) of 2010 and a slew of pacts notwithstanding, growing economic, cultural, and tourism exchanges have failed to translate into favourable conditions for what Beijing terms “peaceful re-unification.” In fact, as various polls have demonstrated, Taiwanese identification and desire for independence has increased just as cross-strait exchanges have deepened and as the Ma Administration has emphasized the Chinese roots of Taiwanese society.

Excluding a sudden shift in domestic trends, and barring external intervention (for example, a Chinese invasion), we can expect that Taiwan two or three decades hence will be even more assured of its identity. By then, Chinese spouses aside — and assuming that Taiwan does not open its doors to Chinese immigration — perhaps only a handful of people living in Taiwan will have been born in China, as the generation that fled Taiwan following the Communists’ defeat of the KMT in the Civil War will have died out.

The impact of this phenomenon on identity is certainly not negligible, as will be the rapid graying of its population and one of the world’s lowest birth rates, which could create incentives for further opening up to immigration.

Another impediment to unification is the difference in the political systems that exist in the two countries. China’s authoritarianism has very little appeal to Taiwanese, and represents a barrier, even to those who support eventual unification.

According to Bruce Jacobs, Director of the Taiwan Research Unit at Monash University in Melbourne, the rise of what he terms an “aggressive, authoritarian China” in recent years has given rise to a “new anti-China bloc among democratic nations and Asian countries,” which will inevitably have an impact on Taiwan. “In the coming two or three decades, the Taiwanese majority on Taiwan, working in an international anti-China environment, will finally gain their true Taiwanese nationhood,” Jacobs says.

Undoubtedly, a more liberal, if not democratic, China would be far more appealing to Taiwanese who might be amenable to a federal-type union, but even then, it is doubtful that Taiwanese would regard themselves as Chinese. One need only think of Australia and Canada vis-à-vis the UK to realize that similar political systems, traditions, and languages are insufficient, in and of themselves, to transcend nationalism.

That is not to say, however, that consolidating identification as Taiwanese will necessarily lead to unwillingness to deal with China. In fact, given the size of China’s economy, as well as linguistic and geographical proximities, Taiwanese will come to regard China as an increasingly appealing destination for work, investment, and education. Already, despite the political hurdles that continue to haunt relations between Taiwan and China, more than one million Taiwanese work and live in China on a semi-permanent basis, a number that will very likely grow over the next decades as China plays a more prominent role within the global economy.

Here, we must by necessity assume that China maintains its present course and that its rise does not dislocate the regional and international system. We must also set aside predictions of a collapse, a fate that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has so far successfully avoided, despite predictions of its imminence.

With the China variable kept constant, ties between the two sides will almost inevitably increase, especially in the economic sector, says Chao Chien-min, Distinguished Chair Professor in the Graduate Institute for Sun Yat-sen Thoughts and Mainland China Studies at Chinese Culture University in Taipei.

“We’ll see more Chinese investment in Taiwan as well as tourists. Millions of travelers will cross the Strait, making the area one of the most lively in the world.”

“The two economies will be more integrated as many financial and other economic institutions will work more closely,” he predicts, just as Taiwan’s legislature evaluates a not uncontroversial Cross-Strait Services Trade Agreement that would play a major role in making that a reality. “With China as its market,” he writes, “Taiwan can be a leading country in the high-tech sector as more of its companies might gain recognition.”

Despite closer ties with China, Chao sees Taiwan by then as having become much more integrated with the outside world, especially in the economic sector.

“I think we’ll have FTAs with all major economies and will be an active member of economic integration in the East Asia region,” says an optimistic Chao, a former Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) Deputy Minister under the Ma administration. We should add that Taiwan’s ability to sign FTAs with other countries will be largely dependent on Beijing’s acquiescence and the willingness of Taiwan’s prospective agreement partners to stand up to Beijing should the latter threaten retaliatory measures.

Although a substantial amount of work needs to be done to adjust its economy, Taiwan has signaled its commitment to joining the US-led Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) trade bloc. Joseph Wu, a former MAC Minister in the Administration of President Chen Shui-bian of the pro-independence Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), also sees more regional integration for Taiwan in coming decades.

“Economically, Taiwan will be transformed into a much more modern economy with more open trade relations with major economies,” says Wu, now the DPP’s Director of the Department of International Affairs and the Party’s envoy to the US.

In his view, Taiwan’s economy will also shift further away from manufacturing ICT products — the country’s mainstay in recent decades — toward the service industry. Wu, a strong proponent of a more cautious approach to economic exchanges with China, nevertheless regards future prospects in the Taiwan Strait with optimism. Like Jacobs, he contends that Taiwan’s democracy will be further consolidated, with the KMT ceasing to be a dominant political force in Taiwan.

Across the Strait, the CCP will relinquish its power to a more open political system, and, as a result, Taiwan’s relations with China will improve and tensions across the Taiwan Strait diminish, Wu says, echoing the belief, disputed by some, that a more liberal, or even democratic, China would be more “rational” on matters of territorial claims. Taiwan and China will form “special relations” with each other, he says, without elaborating.

For good or ill, Taiwan’s future is inextricably tied to what happens in China. Based on current trends, the above scenario is entirely plausible, but is greatly contingent on stability in China. A sudden collapse of the CCP, as some have long predicted, would cast much doubt on the likelihood that the situation described will obtain. Whether the CCP manages to maintain its control over the more hardline elements within the People’s Liberation Army is another important variable that will determine what Taiwan’s situation will be, two, or three decades hence.

My article appeared in the October/November issue of Asia Today International. (Photo by the author) 

2013年，你過得好嗎？

A video retrospective using photographs taken by me and Edd Jhong of PNN. How was your year 2013? What will 2014 bring?

The National Police Administration’s Heidao friends

It doesn’t look too good when the head of the National Police Administration is caught at a banquet with a Triad member

One of the many things I’ve found difficult to explain since vising the construction site of a controversial InfraVest wind turbine project in Yuanli, Miaoli County, in June last year was how the private security firm hired by the German company — a motley crew of brigands high on nicotine and betel nut — got away with terrorizing local residents opposed to the construction.

I have written at length about my encounter with the guards, and spoke with one of their members, who soon afterwards quit his job and went back to Kaohsiung. As one of the high-strung guards, his eyes bloodshot, walked around the site mumbling that if it were up to him, he’d get into a truck and run over the protesters, “Jerry” told me that the crew were recruited at Kung-Fu schools. Over several months, the private security goons clashed with local residents and did things that went well beyond what was allowable by the law. As expected, people got injured, but local police looked on and never intervened. When they did act, they sided with InfraVest and, by default, the hired thugs. Things came to a head in summer 2013 when the head of the National Police Administration (NPA), Wang Cho-chiun (王卓鈞), was grilled by legislators in Taipei. But theatrics aside, nothing happened.

In late October that same year, following an incident in the middle of the night when a mid-aged local was hit in the face by the same security officer who’d expressed his desire to flatten the residents with a truck, I looked deeper into the matter and found that the firm in question was the Taipei-based Hai Tian (海天保全), a successful private security firm that did jobs in China and provided personal security for a number of high-profile dignitaries, politicians (Sean Lien among them), and corporate leaders. Its founder had played a key role training special police units during the Martial Law period.  

Sources also hinted at the possibility of connections between the firm and organized crime — the Four Seas Gang more specifically, one of the main Triads in Taiwan. During a protest outside the Executive Yuan the following day, where Yuanli residents displayed pictures of the injuries sustained by farmers who had had the misfortune of dealing with Hai Tian, I pointed out to other journalists at the scene that none of this would avail to much if there indeed were high-level connections between the firm and the NPA, adding that Yuanli was only one of many cases where locals would be beaten into submission while police choose to look the other way. In other words, that it bode ill for society if organized crime had succeeded in infiltrating the NPA.

It’s too soon to determine whether any of this is related, but a story that is developing just now puts NPA Director-General Wang, who is alleged to have a special fondness for hostess bars, at a banquet table recently with … you guessed it, a member of the Four Seas.

Taiwan unveils ‘Wan Chien’ missile, upgraded IDF aircraft

All 71 IDFs in the 443rd Tactical Fighter Wing in Tainan have been upgraded, and all can carry to air-to-ground cruise missile

The Taiwanese Air Force on January 16 unveiled a new air-to-ground cruise missile that could play a major role in any military confrontation with China.

Known as the Wan Chien, or “Ten Thousands Swords,” the cruise missile was developed by the military-run Chung Shan Institute of Science and Technology (CSIST). Although serial production is not expected to begin until 2015, the missile is believed to have entered service on Aerospace Industrial Development Corp’s (AIDC) F-CK-1 Indigenous Defense Fighter (IDF) following a mid-life upgrade program.

The Wan Chien cruise missile

Thursday’s ceremony, held at Tainan Air Force Base in Southern Taiwan, marked the completion of the Hsiang-Chan Project — a mid-life upgrade for the 71 IDFs in the 443rd Tactical Fighter Wing, based in Tainan. Another 56 IDFs, part of the 427th Tactical Fighter Wing in Taichung, are also expected to undergo upgrades starting this year, a project that is scheduled for completion in 2017. By then, all 127 IDFs will be Wan Chien-capable.

Initiated in 2006, the Hsiang-Chan Project IDFs underwent modernization in three principal areas, namely the aviation operating system, which now runs on a 32-bit platform, up from 16; in-air electronic equipment; and radar systems. A new tri-color multi-function heads-up display will enhance ease of navigation, while a software update for its radar system, developed by Han Shiang Corp, enables the tracking of multiple targets simultaneously and provides countermeasures against electronic jamming.

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

Pro-democracy hero? No thank you (中文 link at bottom)

Administrators at NCKU in central Taiwan are betraying the democratic principles and foundations that are necessary for a well-rounded education 

When, late last year, Tainan’s National Cheng Kung University (NCKU) invited students to help decide the name of a square at the campus through a vote, the supposedly apolitical and “brainwashed” youth came up with a delightful surprise: Deng Nylon (鄭南榕, or Deng Nan-jung), the editor in chief of Freedom Era Weekly whose self-immolation on April 7, 1989, played a seminal role in the nation’s democratization.

With their choice of an icon of democracy (coincidentally, Deng also went to NCKU), the students were making it clear that, unlike what contemporary critics of Taiwanese youth often claim, they know their history and cherish the sacrifices that people before them made to ensure a better future for all Taiwanese.

A total of 971 students voted for 「南榕廣場」 (“Nan-jung Square,” or “South Banyan Square”), out of a total of approximately 3,000, putting it squarely at the top of the list. The choice of such a national hero for the name of the square must have been heartwarming to NCKU administrators who, we assume, are keen to cultivate strong values among their students. Er, no. The very next day, the school’s secretariat decided that the name was improper. It was too ... political, and politics should say out of campus.

Retrocession is out

Unsurprisingly, the decision didn’t go down too well with the students, who organized a series of protests in late December and early this month. Among other actions, protesters removed the characters 「光復」(“Kuang-Fu”) from the NCKU Kuang-Fu Campus plaque, arguing that “Retrocession” — the term used by the KMT to describe the “return” of Taiwan to Chinese rule after World War II — is itself filled with political undertones.

Unhappy with what the students proposed in the poll, administrative committee members decided on Jan. 8 that they would instead propose a list of alternative names, which completely defeats the initial purpose of encouraging students to come up with their own, and is reminiscent more of Beijing’s pre-selection of the candidates for elections in Hong Kong than the truly democratic mechanisms one would expect to see at work in Taiwan. Among the names proposed by the administrators were 「吳京」(“Wu Jing”) and「丁肇中」(“Samuel Ting”), a former president of the university (and Minister of Education for the KMT in the 1990s) and a Nobel prize-wining American physicist of Chinese descent who once studied at NCKU, respectively.

At another meeting held on Jan. 15 to discuss the matter, 70 committee members supported the decision to drop Deng outright, while 21 opposed it. So Nylon Deng is out, at least when it comes to the international democracy at work among the school administrators. It gets worse. During the meeting, NCKU history professor Wang Wen-hsia (王文霞) raised doubts about Deng’s contributions to freedom of expression and even likened his self-immolation to the act of a suicide bomber or terrorist. (Deng’s office where he committed the ultimate sacrifice is located on Freedom Lane in Taipei. I encourage readers to visit it and to judge for themselves whether Deng falls in the same category as an al-Qaeda operative or Hamas suicide bomber.)

The idea that politics have no place on campus is bogus. Universities must serve as incubators for political ideas and future leaders. Only in authoritarian countries does the notion that politics should be barred from schools have any validity. And last time we checked, Taiwan was not part of the latter group. With their handling of the affair, NCKU administrators are betraying the very foundations of what constitutes a solid education, and make a travesty of the principles upon which modern Taiwan was founded. 

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

Of orgies, activism, and poor journalism (中文 link at bottom)

Merely sensationalistic or politically motivated, a recent UDN article about social movements goes a long way in trying to discredit activists who have become a source of headaches for the Ma administration

I’ve said it before, and I’m going to say it again: Traditional media in Taiwan are doing a great disservice to the nation with sloppy journalism, sensationalism, lack of prioritization, and oftentimes little more than pure fabrication. We often read about the threat of China’s influence in Taiwanese media, which is indeed a worrying matter. But there is plenty of awful stuff going on here without China having to extend its nefarious tentacles.

Take, for example, a recent piece about social movements in the Chinese-language United Daily News, which shows just how far (or low) media here will go. The article, titled 「燃燒吧！熱情社運圈不能說的秘密」 (“Burning desire — the secret no one wants you to know about social movements”), claims that the civic mobilizations that we have experienced in the past 18 months are little more than a matchmaking service, where young women become sexually involved with charismatic male leaders. In fact, the author, herself a young woman, claims that on some occasions, when the sun goes down, gatherings tend to descend into orgies. She then writes that “good, clean girls who love themselves” have warned each other to stay away from the protests. In other words, young women who participate in the protests are without free will, mere (pardon the term) “sluts” who cannot control their urges, who are defenseless against the extraordinary attraction of male leaders who (presumably) are protesting for the sole purpose of scoring with dozens of girls. The sexist undertones are rather hard to miss.

This is not a Christian fundamentalist describing what will happen if Taiwan passes same-sex marriage regulations, but a supposedly credible, trustworthy journalist working for one of the nation’s top newspapers.

It goes without saying that the reporter’s entire article fails to mention a single source. All we’re given are rumors, hearsay (“one student said...”), speculation, and a good dose of editorializing. For all we know, the whole thing could be the product of her imagination. But that apparently was good enough for the editors at UDN, a pan-blue publication that generally supports President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) KMT.

I have been following, documenting, photographing, and writing about those social movements for the past 18 months, and I can tell you that it is not one big happy love boat. The young activists have faced the elements, sacrificed weekends (and sometimes their grades) fighting for the future of their country, and faced everything from court summons to police shields. Are there “groupies”? Do romances develop occasionally? Of course they do. But it happens in the workplace, at school, in government, and even among journalists. Moreover, if there were orgies, I, along with the many academics and lawyers who often accompany then, must have missed them, busy as we were focusing on young Taiwanese who were singing songs, shouting slogans, distributing pamphlets, or being pummeled by riot police. 

The image created by the UDN article simply does not reflect the culture and seriousness of the student movement.

Of course this could all be the result of inexperience, of a young journalist’s eagerness to produce a scoop. If that were the case, then it would have been the responsibility of her older and more experienced editors to force her to further develop her article, or, more sensibly, to kill it altogether. Obviously they didn’t, which leads us to speculate as to whether the whole article was politically motivated to discredit a civic movement that has been haunting the Ma government, or that it was too juicy to let pass, and to hell with the facts.

After the article was published, a young female protester contacted the author to express her disagreement with her claims, whereupon the UDN reporter shared the private message — not exactly professional on her part, I might add! — with her friends, who then ganged up on the activist.

Facing a backlash by activists who accused her of smearing the movement, the reporter then claimed that her editors had changed her article several times (the title was itself changed three times, she says, even though journalists rarely have any input on headlines), perhaps insinuating that in the process her piece may have become, uh, distorted. In this case, any self-respecting journalist would have requested that her byline be removed from the article, though I would perhaps add that we should understand the dynamics at play here, with a young female journalist having to deal with older editors. She later wrote, somewhat self-deprecatingly, that her article should be treated as no different than articles about the baby panda, the ill-fated yellow duck, or the boy from Brazil, as if those were of equal importance. She also denies that the UDN is cooperating with the KMT in smearing the activists.

Whatever the reason, the journalist has since earned herself a very bad reputation with the social movement, and her credibility will suffer as a result — as will that of the UDN, which once again showed us that traditional media in Taiwan are, more often than not, part of the problem. (Photo by the author)

New! A Chinese-language version of this article is available here at The News Lens.

The Times They Are A-Changin': A year in pictures

A retrospective of some of the major events in Taiwan in 2013, with photos by Edd Jhong of PNN/PTS and me

The full selection of pictures can be accessed here. The companion set, titled The Good, the Bad, the BUMBLER, can be seen here.

The Dapu ruling and Taiwan’s ‘moral wealth’

A court last week ruled that the government had wrongfully demolished four homes in Miaoli County. Fearing that this would set an inconvenient precedent, the authorities will likely appeal

There were four of them, fangs protruding upwards, with garishly painted visages and eyes flashing a deep rage. We looked on in silence as they performed a Taoist ritual dance, flashing halberds, swords, and banners upon which were inscribed Chinese characters indicating that an injustice had not been righted.

We were in Dapu, Miaoli County, on the morning of Sept. 28, for the funeral of Mr. Chang Sen-wen (張森文), whose lifeless body had been found in a drainage ditch on Sept. 18 less than 200 meters from the ruins of his home and pharmacy, which had been demolished by the government exactly two months prior.

A Taoist demon performs a ritual

It was hard not to be moved by the demons of the underworld, or by the hundreds of people who came from all over Taiwan to pay their respect to the man and his family, whose simple, contented lives were forever torn asunder by the forces of “progress,” propelling them (against their will, I am sure) onto the national stage.

Former vice president Annette Lu (呂秀蓮), on her way to a DPP meeting in Taichung, made a brief unwelcome appearance, a publicity stunt by someone who, along with her party, had not lifted a finger to help prevent the catastrophe and was now sucking on the blood of suffering for her own political gain (she would later become an adviser to the Taoyuan Aerotropolis project, which will likely result in hundredfold suffering).

The last time I’d seen Mr. Chang, whose portrait greeted us at the entrance of the blue tent, was during a protest in front of the Executive Yuan. His home was still standing at the time, but already his mental state had deteriorated. The night before, he had descended into unconsciousness, and after he woke up he was never the same man again. I’d had more interactions with his wife, Ms. Peng Hsiu-chun (彭秀春), who throughout her family’s ordeal remained the strong figure. I was right next to her when she burst into the crowd on July 18 during yet another protest, this one in front of the Presidential Office, and screamed in a voice that I will never forget before being hit by a police shield and collapsing to the ground. She’d just learned that her home had been demolished.

The administration’s callous response to the calumny that befell the Chang family, the loss of their home and pharmacy after they had been promised that such a fate was not in store for them, Mr. Chang’s mental destruction and death, was utterly shocking. Nobody, not President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九), not Miaoli County Commissioner Liu Cheng-hung (劉政鴻), and not Vice President Wu Den-yi (吳敦義), who had himself delivered that promise (which he denies making), ever uttered a single word to bring comfort to the grieving family.

There was reason to rejoice, therefore, when on Jan. 4 the Taichung High Administrative Court ruled that the Miaoli County Government had illegally destroyed the Changs’ homes and those of three other families on July 18, and added that the Ministry of the Interior (MOI) had for its part failed to properly review the cases. Of course, the ruling did nothing to undo the damage that was already done, and will not resurrect the life that was needlessly lost in the process. But it was hoped that the acknowledgement that the government had wronged an innocent family would somehow bring a bit of solace to the widow and now fatherless children.

Despite the verdict, the government remained unapologetic. It was defiant, in fact. Wu, true to himself, disfigured language and blew a lot of smoke to rid himself of all responsibility in the matter. Moreover, the MOI has indicated it will likely appeal, as this would create a “bad” precedent for similar cases, more precisely the hundreds of evictions that will accompany the controversial Taoyuan Aerotropolis megaproject. Heaven forbid that justice and human life should stand in the way of “development,” as Liu, the principal perpetrator of injustice in Dapu, crassly warned after the High Administrative Court ruling. (Unless Liu knows something that we don’t about future investors in the Science Park and other projects that he has initiated across Miaoli, “development” promises to yield a slew of empty lots and vacant buildings, with little in terms of boosting the local economy — unless, of course, by “local economy” we mean Liu, his family members, and close associates.)   

To add insult to injury, someone in government has since suggested that it was those who stood by the Chang family, people like Hsu Shih-jung (徐世榮), Frida Tsai (蔡培慧), Taiwan Rural Front activists, lawyers — and this writer — who ultimately bear responsibility for Mr. Chang’s death, presumably for planting such silly ideas into his head as the belief that people have a right to say no when the government seeks to evict them, and that there is more than the two options given them by the authorities (meager compensation or capitulation) when the bulldozers and excavators come knocking at their door.

Not long ago I was discussing the Dapu case with a Taiwanese friend who currently works in the Philippines, and told her how the injustice and the death/suicide/murder of Mr. Chang had deeply affected me. Her reaction was a bit unusual. “That’s sad, but compared with the mass atrocities that occur in the Philippines, the rampant corruption that delays the delivery of aid during emergencies, it’s pretty minor.” I agree with her that in terms of scale, the Dapu case indeed seems trivial when weighed against the atrocities that are committed within this region alone. But Sam Harris, writing in The End of Faith, had a valid point when he said that not all societies “have the same degree of moral wealth.” In other words, some societies, thanks to variables such as education levels, wealth, development, stability, formative experiences and so on, have more rigorous moral standards than others. Taiwan, having gone through its own dark ages, is now at a point where the death of an individual and the forced eviction that directly led to it are defining issues requiring nationwide attention.

By threatening to appeal the verdict, the MOI risks inflicting even more pain on the Chang family, whose trials should serve as a warning to many others. The Dapu case is extremely important because it serves as a precedent for Taoyuan and other areas lined up for “development.” The government could do the right thing by not appealing and making the proper amendments to the Land Expropriation Act (土地徵收條例), but that seems unlikely. The money involved in future projects is simply too good to ignore. All we can hope, therefore, is that the higher court will do as the Taichung High Administrative Court and rule in the interest of the public against the hyenas. (Photos by the author)

Taiwanese intelligence accused of meddling in Hong Kong

Beijing accuses Taiwan of seeking to create “chaos” in the the territory to discredit the one country, two systems formula 

It’s probably too soon to ask, as Bloomberg did in an article on Jan. 6, whether China is in fact “losing” Hong Kong, where discontent with the way things have gone since Retrocession in 1997 seems to have reached new heights. Without a doubt, the former British colony is turning into a major headache for the Chinese leadership. What’s worse, Beijing now accuses Taiwan of seeking to create “chaos” in the territory to discredit the “one country, two systems” formula under which Hong Kong operates, and which China would like to replicate for a future “reunification” of Taiwan. 

Chief among Beijing’s worries is the Occupy Central movement, a pro-democracy organization that, among other goals, seeks universal suffrage and the curtailment of Beijing’s veto in the selection of candidates for leadership elections in the Special Administrative Region (SAR). Using civil disobedience and other tactics, the group has become an irritant for Beijing and its supporters in Hong Kong, who warn of possible “chaos” resulting from the campaign. 

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