In his inaugural speech on Tuesday, President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) extended an olive branch to Beijing. While the president talked in some detail about opportunities for cross-strait reconciliation, he showed little rhetorical interest in mending the political divide at home.
Ma therefore missed his first opportunity in his capacity as head of state to deal positively with the bitterness generated by an intense and divisive presidential race.
Ma’s victory in the March election was decisive, garnering 58.45 percent of the vote.
But the president could have shown a little more grace by reaching out to that substantial part of the electorate that rejected his campaign in favor of Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) Chairman Frank Hsieh (謝長廷) and his running mate, Su Tseng-chang (蘇貞昌).
His words on Tuesday, instead, were addressed to his supporters.
Referring to the last eight years under the DPP administration, Ma said: “During that difficult time, faith in politics was low, political maneuvering was high and economic security was absent.”
These were hardly the words of a statesman looking to broaden his appeal. And the whiff of hyperbole they contained will not make Ma look very credible when the complexity of Taiwan’s economic circumstances hits home in the coming months.
On his election victory, Ma said: “The people have chosen clean politics, an open economy, ethnic harmony and peaceful cross-strait relations in opening their arms to the future.”
These statements will not diminish the skepticism of the millions of people who did not vote for him. They were words delivered by Ma the presidential candidate, not Ma the leader of a country.
The degree of Ma’s criticism of the previous administration was imprudent at a ceremony that could have been a celebration of the democratic process that installed him and of the transition from the tensions of election season.
Ma must now speak as the voice of Taiwan, bridging the partisan gap whenever possible, and not merely parrot belligerent voices in the pan-blue camp, as he has grown accustomed to doing.
It was not so long ago that pundits and politicians attacked former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) for failing to act as a president for all, despite proclaiming himself to be “the people’s president.” How rapidly their tune has changed with the recovery of executive power.
Garnering support across the political spectrum is not just about fortifying one’s political base. A major task facing Ma and his administration in the first year will be to mitigate the partisan divide that has proven so obstructive in producing legislation of substance.
Ma’s words on Tuesday may not have been a move in that direction, but the new president and his Cabinet still have time over the next few weeks to set a more positive tone in the way they conduct their affairs. The DPP is a minority party, but its support base is considerable; an executive that runs roughshod over the differing sensibilities of those supporters would find the going harder than expected.
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)