If anyone ever had lingering doubts about Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Ma Ying-jeou's (馬英九) abilities as a Harvard-trained lawyer, they were almost certainly put to rest during his recent interview with the BBC's Hardtalk television program.
Ma's legalistic ability to disarm his opponents through obfuscation and equivocation, as well as his obdurate refusal to commit to answering difficult questions were on full display. Despite host Stephen Sackur's tried-and-tested ability to rhetorically manhandle namby-pamby politicos like the Taipei mayor, Ma made a Herculean effort and avoided giving straight answers to simple questions.
Almost the only question to which Ma could give a direct answer was the very first of the interview:
"Does China pose a threat to Taiwan?" Sackur asked.
"Yes," was the only reply Ma could muster, as though he'd been taken off guard by the novelty of the idea. After that, he quickly regained his footing.
"How grave a threat?" was Sackur's response.
"Uh ... depends on the type of ... uh ... situation you are talking about," Ma blathered, launching into a verbose exchange about China's missiles and military maneuvers.
Naturally, this led into tougher questions about why the KMT was blocking the arms procurement deal with the US. Ma regurgitated the well-worn lines about supporting "reasonable" arms purchases. What he did not do, and what the KMT has never been able to do, is explain how, exactly, it intends to ensure that Taiwan is able to defend itself.
What weapons systems should Taiwan invest in? What military programs should be focused on? What is the most effective way to ensure that Taiwan's people have the ability to determine their own future in the face of China's threat?
If you're hoping for answers to these questions, don't look to Ma.
Still, the spectacle of Ma squirming under Sackur's grilling provided some comic relief. Watching Ma attempt to justify former KMT chairman Lien Chan's (
Indeed, if there is a ghost that has been doggedly haunting Ma ever since he took the reins of the KMT, it is the ghost of Lien and the party's ossified Cold-War era policies. The only defense Ma could muster, after some impressive oratorical contortions, was some drivel about the need for direct cross-strait flights.
Things got so uncomfortable for Ma that he eventually broke into an outburst that bordered on racial chauvinism to prevent Sackur from embarrassing him. The trouble came after Sackur tried to nail down Ma's position on unification.
"You don't actually believe in an independent, sovereign Taiwan in the future, do you? You actually believe in one China and unification," Sackur said.
"No, no, no. You don't understand what these terms mean. You're not very much familiar with Chinese affairs and Taiwanese affairs," Ma told the host, as if Sackur -- a veteran journalist with a team of researchers supporting him -- had not just spent the past 20 minutes asking him detailed, probing questions about almost every important issue in Taiwan's affairs.
Needless to say, Ma dodged the question, and blithely ignored Sackur when he pointed out the contradictory comments Ma had made about the topic.
Nevertheless, Ma did offer one very instructive insight during the interview:
"Only the people in power could sell out Taiwan," he said midway through the show.
This is an interesting point. And it is one that voters should bear in mind in 2008.
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