President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) needs to get his eyes checked. He’s obviously been wearing a pair of Avatar 3D glasses for too long, since he acts as if he can reach out and touch the projected benefits of the Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement (ECFA).
It’s as if the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and its supporters took all the seats for Imax’s showing of “ECFA in 3D” and the rest of us had to make to do with the regular 2D format.
Reality does have a way of intruding on celluloid fairy tales and Ma’s seemingly endless supply of platitudes cannot bridge the gap between his promises of quick economic relief, regional access and more free-trade agreements and the cold hard truth — Taiwan has been sold out.
This was clearly evident in Ma’s comments this week, when he dismissed the idea of the legislature conducting a thorough review of the ECFA by comparing it to the passage of the WTO accord.
“When we joined the WTO in 2002, the legislature discussed the general treaty, rather than reviewing every clause. You can either approve or oppose the whole treaty, but [you] should not make changes to the clauses. It would set a very bad example,” Ma said on Wednesday at KMT headquarters, in his capacity as KMT chairman.
What Ma is clearly hoping is that the public will overlook the fact that he’s comparing apples and oranges.
Taiwan applied to join the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT, the WTO’s predecessor) on Jan. 1, 1990, as the separate customs territory of Taiwan, Penghu, Kinmen and Matsu. In September 1992, GATT’s Council of Representatives agreed to establish a working party to examine Taiwan’s accession bid. The Ministry of Economic Affairs then conducted hundreds of negotiations to conclude bilateral treaties with 26 key WTO members by 1999.
The only holdout at that time was, of course, China, so Taiwan had to wait two more years for Beijing to wrap up all of its negotiations before Taiwan’s paperwork was finally approved in November 2001.
It took 11 long years from the time Taiwan formally applied to join the GATT to secure entry. There was a decade filled with debates and reviews — about what Taiwan was being asked to give up, what laws needed to be changed and about programs to help sectors of the economy that would be hurt by accession. All throughout, the public was kept informed of what the government was doing and was able to voice its support or opposition to the government’s plans.
After 11 years, the legislature didn’t need to review the treaty clause by clause. Everyone knew what it contained. The WTO deal was all about transparency.
Contrast that with the ECFA negotiations. Most people are as much in the dark about what is involved and what the costs will be as they were before the deal was signed in Chongqing.
Ma says legislative quibbling over the details of the ECFA would set a bad example. Well, his government has already done that by allowing two quasi-official organizations to hammer out a deal. Now he seeks to compound the error, but on a far greater scale.
To revert to our cinematic theme, Ma and his scriptwriters have been busy crafting a new Mission Impossible, but already it looks just as implausible as those Tom Cruise movies. The only thing you can be sure of is that there will be plenty of explosions before the end.
You’ll leave the theater with the feeling that you’ve been suckered.
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
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
A recent piece of international news has drawn surprisingly little attention, yet it deserves far closer scrutiny. German industrial heavyweight Siemens Mobility has reportedly outmaneuvered long-entrenched Chinese competitors in Southeast Asian infrastructure to secure a strategic partnership with Vietnam’s largest private conglomerate, Vingroup. The agreement positions Siemens to participate in the construction of a high-speed rail link between Hanoi and Ha Long Bay. German media were blunt in their assessment: This was not merely a commercial win, but has symbolic significance in “reshaping geopolitical influence.” At first glance, this might look like a routine outcome of corporate bidding. However, placed in
China often describes itself as the natural leader of the global south: a power that respects sovereignty, rejects coercion and offers developing countries an alternative to Western pressure. For years, Venezuela was held up — implicitly and sometimes explicitly — as proof that this model worked. Today, Venezuela is exposing the limits of that claim. Beijing’s response to the latest crisis in Venezuela has been striking not only for its content, but for its tone. Chinese officials have abandoned their usual restrained diplomatic phrasing and adopted language that is unusually direct by Beijing’s standards. The Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs described the