The Tibetan spiritual leader the Dalai Lama was expected to arrive last night and visit southern Taiwan to bring comfort to the victims of Typhoon Morakot.
Despite the fact the Presidential Office indicated on Friday that he would not meet President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) during his visit, the Dalai Lama’s arrival is good news.
Very few people alive today could bring as much spiritual comfort to the victims of Morakot as the Dalai Lama. Southern Taiwanese would undoubtedly be uplifted by the presence of a man who stands for universal values of humanity and compassion. In fact, he would bring to the people what their president, who remained aloof and distant throughout the disaster, failed miserably to provide during those extraordinarily trying times.
Taiwan has long been a friend of the Dalai Lama and Tibetans; this is an occasion for the spiritual leader to reciprocate.
By granting him permission to visit, Taiwanese authorities have demonstrated that they remain willing — at least to a certain extent — to stand up to China. That willingness, however, could very well be the result of widespread popular dissatisfaction at its handling of Morakot.
In fact, approval levels for Ma and his Cabinet have tanked to such an extent that this time around they may have been in no position to turn the Dalai Lama down.
Furthermore, in allowing the visit, the Ma administration could score some political points domestically — something for which it is currently desperate.
Given the focus in political science circles on human agency in political conflict, external factors — developments that are unexpected and not part of the known variables (for example leadership, balance of power, allies, etc) but can have a dramatic impact on how conflict develops — are often overlooked. One such external factor is nature.
Since Ma came to office in May last year, the direction of the protracted political conflict in the Taiwan Strait changed substantially and, according to many, shifted in Beijing’s favor, with cultural and economic integration bringing about inevitable political adjustments (such as closer Sino-Taiwanese ties and a distancing of Tokyo).
At the height of this rapprochement, Taipei did everything in its power to keep things on track — even, as we saw, denying a visit by the Dalai Lama last year because it would risk creating problems with Beijing.
Now, however, the blow that Typhoon Morakot has dealt the Ma administration, which is no longer in a position to ignore popular discontent as it forges ahead with its cross-strait policies, is forcing the government to pay more attention to domestic politics.
The cost of denying a visit by the Dalai Lama now would have been far greater than it was back in December. An offshoot of this is that Taipei is being forced to make a policy decision that it knows will anger Beijing, which accuses the Dalai Lama of being a “splittist” and seeking to “break China apart.”
The ramification of this visit is that we will likely see the first crisis in cross-strait relations since the Beijing-friendly Ma came to office: Expect to see accusations from across the Strait of Ma siding with a “splittist,” or of breaking his promise to abide by the “one China” principle.
Attendant to this will be a hardening of positions, with both sides moving toward the political center — in other words, toward the “status quo” of old.
For Taiwanese independence, this is an immensely positive development, despite the great human cost that gave rise to it.
J. Michael Cole is a writer based in Taipei.
The closure of the Strait of Hormuz has sent the vast Asian chemicals industry into a tailspin. Deprived of the likes of Qatari natural gas and Saudi Arabian oil, the region’s fertilizer and plastics plants are slowing production or even shutting down. Everywhere except China, that is. In petrochemicals, China is unique. As well as a traditional industry that uses oil and gas as feedstock, it has parallel output that relies on its abundant domestic coal. Unsurprisingly, India and other regional powers want to copy and paste the Chinese method. This would not be easy — or climate friendly. The
KMT Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun’s (鄭麗文) recent visit to Beijing and her upcoming visit to Washington will serve as a high-level test of her diplomatic mettle. In Beijing, Cheng was received with symbolic gestures, a warm reception, and high-level access. In Washington, she will receive far less pomp and far sharper questions about the KMT’s vision for the future of Taiwan. Her challenge will be to persuade Washington that the KMT’s engagement with China can coexist with strong deterrence. Cheng’s April 7-12 visit to mainland China coincided with an intense period of conflict in Iran. Despite the strategic significance of Cheng’s trip,
History might remember 2026, not 2022, as the year artificial intelligence (AI) truly changed everything. ChatGPT’s launch was a product moment. What is happening now is an anthropological moment: AI is no longer merely answering questions. It is now taking initiative and learning from others to get things done, behaving less like software and more like a colleague. The economic consequence is the rise of the one-person company — a structure anticipated in the 2024 book The Choices Amid Great Changes, which I coauthored. The real target of AI is not labor. It is hierarchy. When AI sharply reduces the cost
US President Donald Trump recently repeated his claim that “Taiwan stole America’s chip industry,” reigniting public debate on the issue. As a former Taiwanese minister of economic affairs and an entrepreneur deeply involved in semiconductor supply chain development, I feel a responsibility to clarify this misunderstanding. From the perspective of global industrial evolution and the economic principle of comparative advantage, such a statement appears overly simplistic and risks obscuring the essence of the issue. The rise of Taiwan’s semiconductor industry was not built on “replacing America,” but rather emerged as a result of countries pursuing different development paths within the