It’s official: President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) has launched his election campaign for chairmanship of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT).
A quick glance at the history of KMT chairmanship polls since the first direct election for the position in 2001 shows an increasingly democratic process. In March 2001, Lien Chan (連戰), the sole candidate, won with 97 percent of the vote. Successive elections involved at least two candidates. In 2005, Ma won the race against Wang Jin-pyng (王金平) with 72.4 percent of the vote, while the current chairman, Wu Poh-hsiung (吳伯雄), defeated KMT Legislator Hung Hsiu-chu (洪秀柱) in April 2007 with 90 percent of the vote.
Before 2001, only two chairmen — Lee Teng-hui (李登輝) and before him Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國) — held that position via undemocratic means, that is, by appointment.
On the Democratic Progressive Party side, the list of chairpersons — 17 altogether — tells a similar story, albeit one that was democratic from the very beginning (1986). The only question marks were certain periods of the presidency of Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) — from 2002 until 2004, and from 2007 until last year — when the president held the party chairmanship concurrently.
For short periods of time, both parties have had acting chairpersons who were not elected.
It is fair to say, then, that Taiwan’s democratization — from direct presidential elections to those at the county and legislative levels — has been accompanied by similar conduct within political parties.
But this season’s election for KMT chairmanship is odd. It harkens back to a period in the nation’s history when an individual did not become chairperson through a democratic process. The party’s eighth transition in chairmanship is a one-candidate affair, with Ma campaigning for an election that needs no campaign.
Arguably, the precedent of concurrency set by the Chen administration set a bad example. But at least the dual position of chairman-president occurred at a time when the country’s democracy was unquestionably healthier and when the legislature was dominated by the pan-blue camp, serving as a counterbalance to the executive. Not so today, where both are firmly under the control of the same camp.
Ma can say what he wants about wanting to reduce friction between the executive and the legislature, or between government and party, but in the end, his is a power play that runs against more than two decades of democratization. At best, it takes us back eight years to when Lien’s election was a foregone conclusion. At its worst, it takes us back to the appointment system that was in place when the KMT was an authoritarian party.
It is immaterial whether Ma is the single candidate in the “race” as a result of behind-the-scenes pressure or simply because nobody thought they stood a chance against him. What matters is that in a one-man race, time and money are being wasted for nothing more than kabuki theater.
That Ma has the gall to pretend to be in an electoral race when he does not have an opponent is an affront to the public’s intelligence. Worse, it dovetails with the regression in Taiwan’s democracy since he became president.
Jan. 1 marks a decade since China repealed its one-child policy. Just 10 days before, Peng Peiyun (彭珮雲), who long oversaw the often-brutal enforcement of China’s family-planning rules, died at the age of 96, having never been held accountable for her actions. Obituaries praised Peng for being “reform-minded,” even though, in practice, she only perpetuated an utterly inhumane policy, whose consequences have barely begun to materialize. It was Vice Premier Chen Muhua (陳慕華) who first proposed the one-child policy in 1979, with the endorsement of China’s then-top leaders, Chen Yun (陳雲) and Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平), as a means of avoiding the
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
The last foreign delegation Nicolas Maduro met before he went to bed Friday night (January 2) was led by China’s top Latin America diplomat. “I had a pleasant meeting with Qiu Xiaoqi (邱小琪), Special Envoy of President Xi Jinping (習近平),” Venezuela’s soon-to-be ex-president tweeted on Telegram, “and we reaffirmed our commitment to the strategic relationship that is progressing and strengthening in various areas for building a multipolar world of development and peace.” Judging by how minutely the Central Intelligence Agency was monitoring Maduro’s every move on Friday, President Trump himself was certainly aware of Maduro’s felicitations to his Chinese guest. Just
RSS