LET’S FACE IT: For most people outside this small corner of Asia, Taiwan isn’t even on the radar. At best, it is seen as a satellite of China, a satellite that merely obfuscates their view of that great celestial body; a rogue moon that must be brought into permanent orbit, like Hong Kong and Macau. Or, in Beijing’s view, it is like Tibet.
Sure, Taiwan is a high-tech powerhouse, an economic tiger (on its good days) and a beacon of democracy in Asia.
But with the world’s headlines full of terrorist strikes and economic meltdowns, it is understandably hard for outsiders to see Taiwan’s struggle for democracy as anything more than a tempest in a teapot — a China teapot at that.
Of course, there are those who do see Taiwan as something more than “a renegade province of China” (the official line from Beijing).
They understand that Taiwan has a parallel but separate history and that it has never been part of the People’s Republic of China. They may even know that for the first half of the 20th century Taiwan was part of the constellation of Japan. And that for much of the latter half, Taiwan has been virtually a US outpost, deep inside “Chinese space.”
But during this past year, as the world’s attention was often elsewhere, Taiwan has lurched into closer alignment with China.
Most of the so-called China experts have portrayed this shift as a positive development. Peace in our time. The universe unfolding as it should.
But what might be the cost in democratic terms if this movement continues this year?
For pundits, the return to power of the old Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in January last year was seen as a return to peace, order and good government by Taiwan’s “natural governing party.”
For most analysts, KMT President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) had “the right stuff.” His new trade and transportation agreements with China were viewed as “one small step for Taiwan,” but “a giant leap” for regional peace and prosperity.
Even the occasional tempest that disrupted this sea of tranquillity — such as the KMT government’s raft of arrests, detentions and imprisonment of former officials – was seen as a campaign designed to root out corruption and bring evil-doers to justice.
Never mind that every one of those interrogated, imprisoned and indicted — including former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) and his entire family — are political foes of the reborn KMT, members for the most part of the opposition Democratic Progressive Party (DPP).
To the stargazers, Taiwan’s future can only grow brighter by bathing in the light of Beijing, particularly now that resurgent China is on such an economic grand march.
But others observers see things very differently. They fear that Taiwan is far from ascending, far from waxing brighter. They fear that Taiwan is in retreat and that democracy and human rights are waning in the process, returning in fact to the darkness of martial law tactics that defined Taiwanese life for almost 40 years.
For much of last year, many Taiwan watchers saw a very different night sky; bright heavens in which all the stars seemed to be lining up in favor of Ma and the KMT.
The return of the old regime was largely hailed as a good thing in both Beijing and Washington, a rare celestial event on its own.
Beijing found itself with a Taiwanese president and government that is not only pro-China but also clearly subscribed to the idea that Taiwan is, and has always been, part of “one China.”