Depending on how one looks at it, today could either be the beginning of a new era of trade in the Taiwan Strait or a day of infamy for Taiwan as an independent country. What is already certain is that the entire negotiation process for the economic cooperation framework agreement (ECFA) was dangerously rushed and, even more important, undemocratic.
The fact that the ECFA was arranged in less than six months, when similar bilateral trade agreements often require years, is in itself worrying. It is doubly so when the bigger party involved does not recognize the existence of the smaller party.
This unprecedented approach to trade negotiations — which did not take place under the WTO umbrella, something that would have ensured that both parties were treated as equals — was also conducted behind closed doors and will be reviewed by a legislature that is almost three-quarters controlled by President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). This is the same legislature that, reviewing previous agreements signed with China, has acted more as a rubber stamp than an actual check on the powers of the executive.
In light of these shortcomings, the two major opposition parties launched referendum initiatives in an attempt to give the public a direct say on a matter of national concern. Both attempts were rejected by the government, on technicalities that, according to some, would have been met with incredulity in other democracies.
Another, and perhaps more relevant, argument against a public referendum on an ECFA is the fact that the majority of the population is ill equipped to pass judgement on such an agreement, because most people do not understand the implications well enough to be given the power to change policy. This argument has some merit, but whose fault is it? How could the population be adequately informed about a trade pact when its content has never been made public? Ignorance imposed on a people because it serves the purposes of a government cannot be accepted as a reasonable argument to deny people the right to vote.
Others could argue that Taiwanese reaped what they sowed when in 2008 they elected a party that has never given up on its dream of unification with China, and that they now have to live with the consequences of that decision. Fair enough, but voters made that choice after years of KMT localization under former president Lee Teng-hui (李登輝), who on Saturday came out in strong opposition to the ECFA and Ma. Back in 2008, many Taiwanese bought into the delusion that the KMT faction that was pro-Beijing would not be running the party. Voters could not have imagined that a large share of Ma’s China policy — at least the negotiation part — would be conducted by unelected officials.
Lastly, many Taiwanese who voted for Ma did so because they believed he was the right man to “revive” the economy and improve strained relations with key allies. Never did they think he would propel the nation into a sea of uncertainty by adopting hurried and undemocratic means to shove paradigm-changing cross-strait agreements down people’s throats.
Yes, Taiwanese were perhaps too ignorant, too blind, to be given the power of a referendum and yes their response would consequently be mostly an emotional, if not “irrational” one. But this situation has been deliberately created by government secrecy, and Taiwanese have the right to decide the future of their own country, even if they do so in a purely emotional fashion.
From the Iran war and nuclear weapons to tariffs and artificial intelligence, the agenda for this week’s Beijing summit between US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) is packed. Xi would almost certainly bring up Taiwan, if only to demonstrate his inflexibility on the matter. However, no one needs to meet with Xi face-to-face to understand his stance. A visit to the National Museum of China in Beijing — in particular, the “Road to Rejuvenation” exhibition, which chronicles the rise and rule of the Chinese Communist Party — might be even more revealing. Xi took the members
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
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) on Friday used their legislative majority to push their version of a special defense budget bill to fund the purchase of US military equipment, with the combined spending capped at NT$780 billion (US$24.78 billion). The bill, which fell short of the Executive Yuan’s NT$1.25 trillion request, was passed by a 59-0 margin with 48 abstentions in the 113-seat legislature. KMT Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), who reportedly met with TPP Chairman Huang Kuo-chang (黃國昌) for a private meeting before holding a joint post-vote news conference, was said to have mobilized her