In the recent legislative elections, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) gained two-thirds of the seats and Taiwan once again faces domination by one party. After enjoying democratic freedom since the end of martial law 20 years ago, many Taiwanese may fear a return to an authoritarian age.
Single party domination this time is different, though. Taiwan is no longer under martial law and Taiwanese media outlets are not official government mouthpieces. Many media outlets have been reduced to tabloids or have become polarized. Many misrepresent public opinion because of their political partisanship. The media has never attained professionalism.
Can the public expect the media to change overnight and become a professional watchdog over a legislature dominated by one party? Can we expect the media to measure the KMT -- a mega party that may gather up all five branches of the government into its hands -- by the same standards it measured the Democratic Progressive Party's (DPP) minority government?
Examining other Asian countries dominated by a single party may be instructive. One example is Singapore, where dominance has led to media conformity. The two largest media groups are owned by the government and the ruling party has even gone so far as to restrict the opposition from using Internet sites and blogs as part of their election campaigns. This blatant suppression of opinion is certainly not a good example for Taiwan.
Japan's Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) has also long had the advantage of being a dominant party, but heavy media criticism led to it losing power in 1993 and suffering a severe defeat in parliamentary elections last year.
Though the rise and fall of the LDP stemmed from various issues, the structure of Japanese media nevertheless provides an instructive point. NHK, a public television station which enjoys Japan's highest viewer ratings, is generally politically neutral. As for print media, there is the right-leaning Yomiuri Shimbun and left-leaning newspapers such as the Manichi Shimbun and Asahi Shimbun. It would appear then that a democratic system dominated by one major party can still avoid corruption and autocracy if it is monitored by diverse media and public opinion mechanisms.
Another means of monitoring is to construct a legislative television channel, such as C-Span in the US. The channel should be located near highly visible news channel frequencies, and broadcasts would open legislative operations and negotiations to the public so that there would be nowhere to hide and no need to go through second-hand mainstream media.
The KMT has promised to do its best to prevent abuse of legislative power. If this is so, it should be the first to propose setting up a legislative television channel funded by public resources and a corresponding multi-media database which would allow public access via the Internet. In the future, combined with the power of public watchdog organizations, it could become a public media platform and another supervisory force against legislative corruption outside of the mainstream media.
In short, as no one wishes to see the return of an Orwellian autocracy, it is hoped that the mainstream media can ultimately dispel political polarization. Taiwanese eagerly await the birth of a public platform for legislative supervision.
Taiwanese democracy cannot be allowed to regress -- both the media and the public are responsible for monitoring political forces.
Lillian Wang is an associate professor of journalism at National Chengchi University.
Translated by Angela Hong
Jan. 1 marks a decade since China repealed its one-child policy. Just 10 days before, Peng Peiyun (彭珮雲), who long oversaw the often-brutal enforcement of China’s family-planning rules, died at the age of 96, having never been held accountable for her actions. Obituaries praised Peng for being “reform-minded,” even though, in practice, she only perpetuated an utterly inhumane policy, whose consequences have barely begun to materialize. It was Vice Premier Chen Muhua (陳慕華) who first proposed the one-child policy in 1979, with the endorsement of China’s then-top leaders, Chen Yun (陳雲) and Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平), as a means of avoiding the
The last foreign delegation Nicolas Maduro met before he went to bed Friday night (January 2) was led by China’s top Latin America diplomat. “I had a pleasant meeting with Qiu Xiaoqi (邱小琪), Special Envoy of President Xi Jinping (習近平),” Venezuela’s soon-to-be ex-president tweeted on Telegram, “and we reaffirmed our commitment to the strategic relationship that is progressing and strengthening in various areas for building a multipolar world of development and peace.” Judging by how minutely the Central Intelligence Agency was monitoring Maduro’s every move on Friday, President Trump himself was certainly aware of Maduro’s felicitations to his Chinese guest. Just
A recent piece of international news has drawn surprisingly little attention, yet it deserves far closer scrutiny. German industrial heavyweight Siemens Mobility has reportedly outmaneuvered long-entrenched Chinese competitors in Southeast Asian infrastructure to secure a strategic partnership with Vietnam’s largest private conglomerate, Vingroup. The agreement positions Siemens to participate in the construction of a high-speed rail link between Hanoi and Ha Long Bay. German media were blunt in their assessment: This was not merely a commercial win, but has symbolic significance in “reshaping geopolitical influence.” At first glance, this might look like a routine outcome of corporate bidding. However, placed in
China often describes itself as the natural leader of the global south: a power that respects sovereignty, rejects coercion and offers developing countries an alternative to Western pressure. For years, Venezuela was held up — implicitly and sometimes explicitly — as proof that this model worked. Today, Venezuela is exposing the limits of that claim. Beijing’s response to the latest crisis in Venezuela has been striking not only for its content, but for its tone. Chinese officials have abandoned their usual restrained diplomatic phrasing and adopted language that is unusually direct by Beijing’s standards. The Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs described the