For a government accused by opposition and rights advocates of reverting to an authoritarian past, the administration of President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) has been surprisingly inept at image control, a situation all the more strange given the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) strong ties with the media.
Starting with the barbed wire and barricades that preceded the arrival in Taiwan of Chinese envoy Chen Yunlin (陳雲林), then continuing with police clashes with demonstrators protesting against the visit, critics of the KMT government were given plenty of ammunition to advance claims that the Ma administration is whittling away at democratic principles and what exists of due process.
Other faux pas — such as Ma walking away from Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) deputy caucus whip Chiu Yi-ying (邱議瑩) as she lay on the ground, and KMT legislators crowing over the detention of former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) without charge last Tuesday — also blemished the government’s image and raised questions about its ability to maintain a facade of respectability.
What could have been passed off as carelessness shifted to incompetence on the night of Chen Shui-bian’s arrest, with prosecutors gratuitously handcuffing the former president and failing to foresee that the media-savvy Chen would turn the occasion into a classic camera moment. Minutes later, images of a handcuffed former president shouting injustice and political persecution were circulated around the world, threatening to downgrade Taiwan’s image to that of a banana republic.
Many people overseas were oblivious to the mass demonstrations and clashes that accompanied Chen Yunlin’s visit, but few have not seen the final pictures of the former president before he was taken away. The impact of that image — and the worrying questions it raises about the KMT administration — cannot be underestimated.
If the KMT’s detractors are justified in fearing a slide toward authoritarianism, image is the next thing the party must work on. And there are signs that the authorities are becoming more sensitive to the ability of reporters and photographers to access all areas.
After several days on a presumed hunger strike, the former president was taken from his detention center in Taipei County to hospital for a checkup. Once again, the media rushed to broadcast images of an emaciated and perhaps ailing former leader, which — added to other images of hunger-striking DPP leaders — would have infuriated DPP supporters and fueled tensions.
The wait was anti-climactic. The former president was barely visible. As a precaution, and against the longstanding practice of parading patients before the media both outside and inside hospital grounds, the ambulance backed into the building, from where Chen was unloaded, depriving the throng of crucial images and leaving it with bland pictures of ambulances, police cars and people milling around.
It is extremely unlikely that this transpired out of respect for the former president’s privacy or his rights as a likely defendant.
Media outlets have benefited from callous disregard for the dignity of ordinary people and the rights of defendants for many years. The irony is that Chen Shui-bian’s protest has offered the authorities an object lesson in image management that may well result in more regulation — and not necessarily for the better. With the National Communications Commission shutting down unlicensed radio stations rather than engaging the issue of how the media compromise the rights of people in its stories, it can be assumed that changes will take place with politics strictly in mind.
As part of its relentless pursuit of hegemony, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and its People’s Liberation Army (PLA) are now sustaining two regional wars while threatening further arms races that shift the global balance of power in order for the CCP to advance its ultimate objective. Russia’s and Iran’s war efforts are being materially supported by Chinese supplies of drone components and missile fuels. So far in 2026, such Chinese support has enabled a 60 percent increase in civilian casualties in Ukraine caused by long-range Russian weapons such as missiles and drones from January to June 2026 compared with the same
A controversial fenced-in smoking area installed near Taipei’s Gongguan (公館) shopping district was dismantled on Wednesday last week after it was widely ridiculed for looking like a dog cage and for being ineffective at blocking secondhand smoke. The Gongguan smoking area, which is part of Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an’s (蔣萬安) push for a smoke-free city, was removed in less than 10 days after its installation, while six others were removed on the same day. City councilors have continued to question other designated smoking areas in the city, including open-air spaces enclosed by potted plants, or areas in parking lots marked by only
Taiwan is home to thousands of foreign residents who build careers, families and lives here. However, what happens when one of those residents loses the ability to prove his identity — not because he has broken Taiwan’s laws, but because his own government refuses to renew his passport? That is the situation my husband, Matteo (not his real name), a Nicaraguan national, has found himself in. After about three years of attempts to renew his passport, our future in Taiwan remains uncertain. It all comes back to Taiwan’s giant geopolitical issue: the multitude of countries cutting diplomatic ties with Taiwan
The “quiet revolution” of Taiwan’s democratization took shape during the 12 years that followed Lee Teng-hui (李登輝) simultaneously becoming chairman of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and president of the Republic of China (ROC). Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) then took the presidential helm in 2000, bringing an end to one-party rule in the ROC, and was re-elected in 2004. He was followed by the KMT’s Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九), who served two four-year terms; the DPP’s Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文), who also served two terms; and the DPP’s William Lai (賴清德), currently in his first term. Having
RSS