Addressing the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC) on Wednesday, Jia Qinglin (賈慶林), the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) No. 4 official and chairman of the CPPCC national committee, reaffirmed his government’s commitment to the “peaceful” development of cross-strait relations.
“We will constantly increase contacts with political parties, organizations, social groups, influential figures from all walks of life and the general public in Taiwan,” he told the more than 2,000 delegates at the Great Hall of the People.
Then came a comment that should make us pause both for the strategy that it highlights as for the lack of understanding of Taiwan that it elicits: “All this [growing exchanges] greatly enhanced the acceptance of the Chinese nation and Chinese culture by our Taiwan[ese] compatriots.”
Chinese officials have made no secret of the fact that they see Chinese culture as a weapon by which to persuade Taiwanese to agree to annexation. After many years of seeing Taiwan allegedly “drift” from its Chinese cultural heritage — efforts that accelerated during the administration of former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) — Beijing is now seizing the opportunity created by the presidency of Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) to impose a Chinese cultural template on Taiwan. Given the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) acquiescence in this endeavor, and Ma’s repeated references to Chinese culture, the situation is somewhat reminiscent of Taiwan during the era of White Terror, when symbols of Taiwaneseness, including the language, were barred from the media and Chinese — as opposed to Taiwanese — history was taught in the nation’s schools.
As contact between the two sides accelerates and the creative industries cross-pollinate (this will likely be mostly one way, given China’s greater financial resources and censorship at home), the assault on Taiwanese consciousness through cultural means will only intensify. By dint of repetition and subtle changes here and there (on television, in schoolbooks and academic forums), the Chinese plan could succeed in eroding Taiwanese cultural identity — at least to a certain extent.
Other countries with a powerful neighbor, such as Canada vis-a-vis the US, have often raised the specter of a culture threat, mostly through the flooding of their domestic markets by films, music, literature and McDonald’s. Under such circumstances, however, if there is a threat, it is an indirect one in that no conscious effort is being made by Washington to shape minds through cultural bombardment.
In Taiwan’s case, however, it has become rather clear that cultural influence is no mere collateral — it is, in fact, the tip of a missile aimed straight at the heart.
This effort at cultural transformation to achieve political objectives, however, is of limited effectiveness and will be less likely to achieve its ultimate aims if the strategy becomes too transparent (external factors, such as the Chinese military threat, will also undermine such a strategy).
Comments such as those by Jia, to the effect that cross-strait exchanges highlight “the acceptance of the Chinese nation and Chinese culture by ... Taiwan[ese] compatriots,” underscore the political elements of China’s cultural strategy and are an example of the transparency that could throw Beijing’s plans off track. That is so because of the false assumptions that buttress those efforts.
The willingness of Taiwanese to engage in more discussions with Chinese, to watch Chinese movies, attend Chinese art expositions (or gaze at pandas) is simply natural curiosity. By no means does this signify, however, that by doing so Taiwanese accept the so-called Chinese nation — by which Beijing means “one China” — or see it as their culture. Quebecers, for example, may show a great deal of interest in a French troupe performing in Quebec City (or Hollywood movies, for that matter), but this does not mean that they “accept” France, or the US, as the seat of their culture.
A better analogy, perhaps, would be that of a Palestinian interested in learning more about Israelis living across the fence by attending discussion groups involving the two people. However high his interest might be, it remains purely academic and under no circumstances would it imply the acceptance that Palestinian land belongs to some Greater Israel.
If Beijing subscribes to the belief that interest in seeing things Chinese means acceptance of its dominion over Taiwan, it is in for a very unpleasant surprise.
Slips like that made by Jia on Wednesday are not infrequent and should serve as a warning to Taiwanese that for Beijing, nothing is sacred, or off limit, in its pursuit of unification.
J. Michael Cole is an editor at the Taipei Times.
With a new White House document in May — the “Strategic Approach to the People’s Republic of China” — the administration of US President Donald Trump has firmly set its hyper-competitive line to tackle geoeconomic and geostrategic rivalry, followed by several reinforcing speeches by Trump and other Cabinet-level officials. By identifying China as a near-equal rival, the strategy resonates well with the bipartisan consensus on China in today’s severely divided US. In the face of China’s rapidly growing aggression, the move is long overdue, yet relevant for the maintenance of the international “status quo.” The strategy seems to herald a new
To say that this year has been eventful for China and the rest of the world would be something of an understatement. First, the US-China trade dispute, already simmering for two years, reached a boiling point as Washington tightened the noose around China’s economy. Second, China unleashed the COVID-19 pandemic on the world, wreaking havoc on an unimaginable scale and turning the People’s Republic of China into a common target of international scorn. Faced with a mounting crisis at home, Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) rashly decided to ratchet up military tensions with neighboring countries in a misguided attempt to divert the
Toward the end of former president Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) final term in office, there was much talk about his legacy. Ma himself would likely prefer history books to enshrine his achievements in reducing cross-strait tensions. He might see his meeting with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) in Singapore in 2015 as the high point. However, given his statements in the past few months, he might be remembered more for contributing to the breakup of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). We are still talking about Ma and his legacy because it is inextricably tied to the so-called “1992 consensus” as the bedrock of his
Retired army major general Yu Pei-chen (于北辰), a former head the Taoyuan chapter of the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) veterans branch, on Wednesday last week said that chapter head Tsang You-hsia (臧幼俠) — who dismissed Yu from his position — “would rather see cross-strait unification than yield to the Democratic Progressive Party [DPP] government.” The statement ignited public debate, as it was the first time that a retired officer loyal to the nation — and the KMT — said out loud what has long been rumored among the public: Some KMT members would rather work with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)
RSS