"Taiwan has plenty of rumors, but no evidence" is the impression of many people at present. Ever since the nation's first transfer of power took place in 2000 many people and institutions -- from party leaders and legislators to the media and academics -- have repeatedly abused their freedom of speech. Irresponsible attacks have been made in words and in writing, without any evidence to back up the accusations. As a result, the honesty, credibility and morality of Taiwan's politicians have been repeatedly questioned, while the dignity of our judicial system has also been knocked to the ground.
After the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) lost the 2000 election, former New Party legislator Hsieh
Chi-ta (
More recent examples include: Independent Legislator Sisy Chen (
But it is not always the president who is the target of such nonsense. For example, independent Legislator Su Ying-kuei (
One thing that all these accusations have in common is that no evidence has been produced to substantiate any of the claims. Some of the people involved have already changed their stories in the face of media questions. But even when the accusers are shown to have been confused about their information, they have stoutly refused to admit to any error or to apologize to their victims.
Such accusations should not be made without a thorough investigation beforehand. It is hard to believe that politicians and academics have so little regard for the public that they expect to be able to bamboozle them for political rewards. The history of Taiwan's elections shows that voters see perfectly clearly, and that politicians and political parties that cannot be trusted will eventually be rejected by the people.
It is time to hold people accountable for what they say. When irresponsible claims are made, reporters and voters alike should be quick to demand accountability. People and institutions should not be able to hide their lies behind the protection afforded by the right of free speech. If such accountability is not forthcoming, the people should use their votes to throw out these irresponsible politicians and the candidates supported by grandstanding academics who appear to have lost any sense of moral compass.
When Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) sits down with US President Donald Trump in Beijing on Thursday next week, Xi is unlikely to demand a dramatic public betrayal of Taiwan. He does not need to. Beijing’s preferred victory is smaller, quieter and in some ways far more dangerous: a subtle shift in American wording that appears technical, but carries major strategic meaning. The ask is simple: replace the longstanding US formulation that Washington “does not support Taiwan independence” with a harder one — that Washington “opposes” Taiwan independence. One word changes; a deterrence structure built over decades begins to shift.
Taipei is facing a severe rat infestation, and the city government is reportedly considering large-scale use of rodenticides as its primary control measure. However, this move could trigger an ecological disaster, including mass deaths of birds of prey. In the past, black kites, relatives of eagles, took more than three decades to return to the skies above the Taipei Basin. Taiwan’s black kite population was nearly wiped out by the combined effects of habitat destruction, pesticides and rodenticides. By 1992, fewer than 200 black kites remained on the island. Fortunately, thanks to more than 30 years of collective effort to preserve their remaining
After Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) met Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) in Beijing, most headlines referred to her as the leader of the opposition in Taiwan. Is she really, though? Being the chairwoman of the KMT does not automatically translate into being the leader of the opposition in the sense that most foreign readers would understand it. “Leader of the opposition” is a very British term. It applies to the Westminster system of parliamentary democracy, and to some extent, to other democracies. If you look at the UK right now, Conservative Party head Kemi Badenoch is
A Pale View of Hills, a movie released last year, follows the story of a Japanese woman from Nagasaki who moved to Britain in the 1950s with her British husband and daughter from a previous marriage. The daughter was born at a time when memories of the US atomic bombing of Nagasaki during World War II and anxiety over the effects of nuclear radiation still haunted the community. It is a reflection on the legacy of the local and national trauma of the bombing that ended the period of Japanese militarism. A central theme of the movie is the need, at
RSS