The sight of wily former president Lee Teng-hui (李登輝) darting around Washington and Philadelphia firing up the expatriate faithful, networking with top members of the US Congress and admiring the crown jewels of American democracy -- the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence and assorted memorials -- is oddly moving. It is an affirmation that Taiwan cannot afford to do anything less than defy Orientalists who claim that "Asians" are less suited to democracy. It is also a bleak reminder of the state of things at home.
Lee has enemies in Taiwan, no more embittered than the ossified inner sanctum of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), whose members hate Lee not just for purging the party of its most militant and despotic elements -- and exposing unificationists to general ridicule -- but also for the fact that, like the rest of the inner sanctum, he got rich along the way.
These enemies will be rather irritated that Lee's visit elicited powerful statements of support from both Democratic and Republican members of Congress, notably Republican Representative Dana Rohrabacher, whose words should provide no small comfort to demoralized supporters of democracy in Taiwan.
Why the irritation over such support? Because at a philosophical level Lee's opponents hold the US and its ideals in high and barely disguised contempt, despite the formidable number of them that sucked on the teat of the American education system and whose very survival in this place has been paid for over the decades by the US military. To this day, deep inside the heart of the unificationist ideologue, there lives derision toward the barbaric West and a longing for the time when the center of a true civilization -- Beijing, presumably -- can return to its rightful place as the capital of not the Middle Kingdom, as it is usually mistranslated, but the Central Kingdom.
More pressing, however, is the fact that such words of support from members of Congress endanger the pan-blue program of appeasement and ingratiation with that part of the Chinese Communist Party charged with neutralizing "separatists" in Taiwan.
Lee is all too aware of these facts, stained as he is by historical connections to both the communists and the KMT. That he can still serve as the only substantial representative of this country's democratic aspirations in the US -- even more than the nation's own president, sad to say -- is a sign of desperation that should be well noted. The fact that Lee, in his 80s, has been forced to emulate the gerontocratic flailing of communist regimes past and present is to be regretted. How much better it would have been if, as with the postwar Winston Churchill, Lee were now irrelevant and could be put out to pasture.
The fact that this man still insists on involvement in international politics reflects not just a sense of unfinished business on his part, but also a sense that the Democratic Progressive Party has dropped the ball so badly in communicating with the electorate on national identity and cross-strait security that something -- anything -- has to be done. If that means traveling to Washington and effectively pleading with two of the most powerful lawmakers in the land for a stronger commitment to Taiwan's security, then so be it.
May the members of Congress who met Lee have the courage of their convictions to stand by their friends -- the great majority of Taiwanese -- at a time of vulnerability to the ruinous agenda of pro-China legislators.
A gap appears to be emerging between Washington’s foreign policy elites and the broader American public on how the United States should respond to China’s rise. From my vantage working at a think tank in Washington, DC, and through regular travel around the United States, I increasingly experience two distinct discussions. This divergence — between America’s elite hawkishness and public caution — may become one of the least appreciated and most consequential external factors influencing Taiwan’s security environment in the years ahead. Within the American policy community, the dominant view of China has grown unmistakably tough. Many members of Congress, as
The Hong Kong government on Monday gazetted sweeping amendments to the implementation rules of Article 43 of its National Security Law. There was no legislative debate, no public consultation and no transition period. By the time the ink dried on the gazette, the new powers were already in force. This move effectively bypassed Hong Kong’s Legislative Council. The rules were enacted by the Hong Kong chief executive, in conjunction with the Committee for Safeguarding National Security — a body shielded from judicial review and accountable only to Beijing. What is presented as “procedural refinement” is, in substance, a shift away from
Taiwan no longer wants to merely manufacture the chips that power artificial intelligence (AI). It aims to build the software, platforms and services that run on them. Ten major AI infrastructure projects, a national cloud computing center in Tainan, the sovereign language model Trustworthy AI Dialogue Engine, five targeted industry verticals — from precision medicine to smart agriculture — and the goal of ranking among the world’s top five in computing power by 2040: The roadmap from “Silicon Island” to “Smart Island” is drawn. The question is whether the western plains, where population, industry and farmland are concentrated, have the water and
The shifting geopolitical tectonic plates of this year have placed Beijing in a profound strategic dilemma. As Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) prepares for a high-stakes summit with US President Donald Trump, the traditional power dynamics of the China-Japan-US triangle have been destabilized by the diplomatic success of Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi in Washington. For the Chinese leadership, the anxiety is two-fold: There is a visceral fear of being encircled by a hardened security alliance, and a secondary risk of being left in a vulnerable position by a transactional deal between Washington and Tokyo that might inadvertently empower Japan