The presidential election was just three weeks ago, and certain media outlets have already begun Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) deification. The editorials in some newspapers have complimented Ma for having a good physique and for working out daily.
They have also called him wise and said that he has learned a great deal from his wisely chosen companions.
Not only has this kind of sycophantic praise become an Internet joke, embellishments made by television stations are even more jaw-dropping: Ma is frugal, squeaky clean, full of filial piety, sincere, loyal to his party and patriotic to his country, adept at negotiations, as charming as former US president John F. Kennedy, and radiates gentleness from his double-lidded eyes.
With such a fine husband, even Chow Mei-ching’s (周美青) way of tying her shoelaces is extraordinarily sleek. Needless to say, the beauty of their daughter, Lesley Ma (馬唯中), and her many talents, are also praised.
The presidential cult of personality isn’t new. Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) was known for having deduced great wisdom from observing swimming fish in his childhood: no wonder he became the saviour of his people, as well as a military strategist, politician, philosopher, educator, thinker, calligrapher, and artist all rolled into one.
It would have been difficult for his son and heir, Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國) to have been anything less than magnificent.
The economic miracles, political liberalization and his Ten Major Construction Projects, are all credits to his name; whereas the Taipei Tenth Credit Cooperative corruption scandal and the murders of Chen Wen-chen (陳文成) as well as Lin I-hsiung (林義雄) and his family, are swept under the carpet to prevent harm to his achievements.
Presidents Lee Teng-hui (李登輝) and Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) were not of the same ilk. At most, they enjoyed a short media honeymoon.
Once Lee was in power, Chinese-language United Daily News columnists opposed him on principle, as though he were the source of all evil.
Even worse, Chen was criticized at least three times daily, and became equated with corruption.
Comparatively, Ma is the carefully honed star of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), a fact to which the media pays homage.
In fact, in most circumstances, the media go so far as to purposefully package Ma so that problems great and small eventually amount to nothing: Taipei’s flooding during typhoon Nari, the death of a young girl surnamed Chiu (邱) due to medical negligence, the ill advised response to SARS, the green card scandal, and the first ever presidential candidate to have been charged with corruption – these are non-issues for Ma.
The media has also created the impression that Ma’s success is generating economic momentum. Yet the stock market performed well for only one day after the election.
Since then, there has been more outgoing than incoming foreign capital and the realities of the property sector have also performed below expectations.
The members of the Taiwanese media, which often call themselves the “fourth estate” and the “eternal opposition,” have suddenly become the vanguard for flattering the future president.
Those who should have confined themselves to accurate and balanced reporting for the benefit of the public have gone so far as to produce intoxicating myths of deification.
This is but another symptom of the Taiwanese media’s festering illness.
Lu Shih-hsiang is an adviser to the Taipei Times.
TRANSLATED BY ANGELA HONG
In the past month, two important developments are poised to equip Taiwan with expanded capabilities to play foreign policy offense in an age where Taiwan’s diplomatic space is seriously constricted by a hegemonic Beijing. Taiwan Foreign Minister Lin Chia-lung (林佳龍) led a delegation of Taiwan and US companies to the Philippines to promote trilateral economic cooperation between the three countries. Additionally, in the past two weeks, Taiwan has placed chip export controls on South Africa in an escalating standoff over the placing of its diplomatic mission in Pretoria, causing the South Africans to pause and ask for consultations to resolve
An altercation involving a 73-year-old woman and a younger person broke out on a Taipei MRT train last week, with videos of the incident going viral online, sparking wide discussions about the controversial priority seats and social norms. In the video, the elderly woman, surnamed Tseng (曾), approached a passenger in a priority seat and demanded that she get up, and after she refused, she swung her bag, hitting her on the knees and calves several times. In return, the commuter asked a nearby passenger to hold her bag, stood up and kicked Tseng, causing her to fall backward and
In December 1937, Japanese troops captured Nanjing and unleashed one of the darkest chapters of the 20th century. Over six weeks, hundreds of thousands were slaughtered and women were raped on a scale that still defies comprehension. Across Asia, the Japanese occupation left deep scars. Singapore, Malaya, the Philippines and much of China endured terror, forced labor and massacres. My own grandfather was tortured by the Japanese in Singapore. His wife, traumatized beyond recovery, lived the rest of her life in silence and breakdown. These stories are real, not abstract history. Here is the irony: Mao Zedong (毛澤東) himself once told visiting
When I reminded my 83-year-old mother on Wednesday that it was the 76th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, she replied: “Yes, it was the day when my family was broken.” That answer captures the paradox of modern China. To most Chinese in mainland China, Oct. 1 is a day of pride — a celebration of national strength, prosperity and global stature. However, on a deeper level, it is also a reminder to many of the families shattered, the freedoms extinguished and the lives sacrificed on the road here. Seventy-six years ago, Chinese Communist leader Mao Zedong (毛澤東)
RSS