Much of the seemingly astute foreign commentary during and since the election clearly did not help the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) in any way. The Western press emphasized that the election was free and peaceful, the result and the process reflecting continuity and the strength of Taiwanese democracy.
Liberals in Europe stressed how the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) victory protected stability in the region, the US was relieved that China was persuaded to refrain from any overt posturing or threatening (contrasted with the 2000 presidential election) and of course China saw the result as a condition for further strengthening economic relations, as a working base for increased cultural and political influence within Taiwan.
On the other side of this political coin, even among liberals and democrats in many places, the failure of the DPP has been seen as a confirmation of the progress of Taiwanese democracy. Furthermore, the fulsome support for the result among the social media in China, that might be seen as the principal voice of the growing middle class there, could spell the death knoll of truly effective DPP opposition for some time.
If it is true that Chinese progressive elements and popular sentiment welcome the recent result as an indication that peaceful transition toward democracy might also occur in China, then we might summarize that the KMT is presently the happy child of powerful global forces on all sides.
Under such conditions, bereft of international prestige, suffering the loss of its charismatic female leader and still unconvincing as a party of social and political reform within the nation, the focus of any surge of energy or radical activity on the part of the DPP is presently impossible to discover. It will be fatal if, in blundering toward a speedy recovery, the DPP simply rehashes in shriller tones the same old politics — China and corruption, but not much else.
It could be argued — against the opinion of so many foreign commentators — that any retraction of the DPP, leaving the field open to the KMT, would be a tragic setback for Taiwanese democracy and hardly representative of a model to be followed by aspiring democrats elsewhere, including Chinese democrats.
We have two parties: One party, the KMT, is old and redundant and bears a savage and terrible history, but wears slightly better suits. It wins elections. The other, the DPP, is young, often hysterical, open to charges of duplicity at its core, and dismally without real ambition to improve Taiwanese political and social life. It loses elections.
To go on voting for the first — as Taiwan did this month — is to live in a very gloomy yet dissolute past and to deny the achievements of the last generation. To vote for the second is to take a risk on a rather flaky bunch of folk, who quarrel as much among themselves as with the KMT, are easily persuaded from paths of political righteousness and who seem reluctant to address the totality of the major social and economic problems facing Taiwan.
The KMT has traditionally been the party of martial law, corruption and strong-arm tactics, and has shown its utter pragmatism in its unequaled about-face from the party in historical opposition to China to the party in symbiotic alliance with China. As has been argued in previous columns, the election result arose from a political situation in which the issue of China and its economic and political relations with Taiwan is a rhetorical driver that overrides any considered political debate.
Indeed, the DPP, battling against a political inertia at least partially determined by the overwhelmingly KMT-dominated permanent public institutions of this country, seemed always far too prone to buy into the issues as defined by the KMT political wing. And thereby a new democratic push did not, could not, disturb the central position of the “handling China” issue, which together with a very confused and partial charge of corruption, lost democracy to nationalism in 2008 and has just this month dealt a wounding blow to liberalism within democracy.
It should be emphasized that all of this has resulted in bad politics on both sides. It must be admitted that to be severely skeptical of the KMT is not, automatically, to be supportive and optimistic about the DPP. Given no alternative that makes any sense, this is surely a national tragedy.
On the one hand, the KMT government has yet to show its democratic credentials — plans for not merely creating growth and jobs, but for turning toward a more sympathetic and liberal program of reform of working conditions, the urban environment, facilities for an increasingly aging population, welfare and insurance provision — a turn that might better convince democrats of its political veracity than its earlier turn on China.
However, similarly, the DPP was not really tested in the recent presidential contest. The commanding rhetoric on China once more embroiled all debate, leaving little room for any convincing DPP presentation of social and political policies.
So it does seem a reasonable question to ask right now. Given the centrality of the China question in Taiwanese politics and the failure of the DPP to develop a truly coherent and well-publicized policy package for economic growth as well as social and cultural progress, is it inevitable that the KMT will now grow from strength to strength with little internal opposition?
Turn the question around: What will stop the KMT in 2020 boasting continuous rule in Taiwan over a period of 70 years, with a mere hiccup of eight years — during which the Legislative Yuan remained under KMT control — disturbing its dominance? This question might now take up the energy of the DPP and others. A few suggestions are in order.
First, scrap reliance on old China rhetoric. It has only won elections up until now, it will not solve Taiwan’s problems over the next few years.
Second, consider ways in which the DPP might lead both a more open and embracing politics as integral to any serious, critical review of China relations. Tsai’s introduction of the notion of consociational democracy was too confused and too late to be effective in the recent election, but it might be developed over the next few months as a way of opening up an inclusive, intelligent consideration of relations with China. More all-party forums for such discussion would surely be supported by a wide spectrum of Taiwanese citizens.
Third, the DPP leadership must run this in parallel with a firm switch toward well-funded policies on domestic social and cultural problems. These must be presented to the public clearly and as soon as possible.
Once such a combined response to electoral failure becomes visible and matures, it is feasible that the DPP will become increasingly well-placed to advance both social reform within the country and the soft power of Taiwanese democracy in both the regional and international spheres. The first and the second processes in combination will hugely increase the likelihood of electoral victory in coming years. The second, on its own, will over time alter international opinion about the value and status of Taiwanese democracy, raise Taiwan’s soft power in East Asia and allow the Chinese middle classes a view of an advanced East Asian democracy that is worth nourishing.
Ian Inkster is a professor of international history at Nottingham Trent University and a professor of global history at Wenzao Ursuline College, Kaohsiung.
The US Senate’s passage of the 2026 National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA), which urges Taiwan’s inclusion in the Rim of the Pacific (RIMPAC) exercise and allocates US$1 billion in military aid, marks yet another milestone in Washington’s growing support for Taipei. On paper, it reflects the steadiness of US commitment, but beneath this show of solidarity lies contradiction. While the US Congress builds a stable, bipartisan architecture of deterrence, US President Donald Trump repeatedly undercuts it through erratic decisions and transactional diplomacy. This dissonance not only weakens the US’ credibility abroad — it also fractures public trust within Taiwan. For decades,
In 1976, the Gang of Four was ousted. The Gang of Four was a leftist political group comprising Chinese Communist Party (CCP) members: Jiang Qing (江青), its leading figure and Mao Zedong’s (毛澤東) last wife; Zhang Chunqiao (張春橋); Yao Wenyuan (姚文元); and Wang Hongwen (王洪文). The four wielded supreme power during the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976), but when Mao died, they were overthrown and charged with crimes against China in what was in essence a political coup of the right against the left. The same type of thing might be happening again as the CCP has expelled nine top generals. Rather than a
Taiwan Retrocession Day is observed on Oct. 25 every year. The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) government removed it from the list of annual holidays immediately following the first successful transition of power in 2000, but the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT)-led opposition reinstated it this year. For ideological reasons, it has been something of a political football in the democratic era. This year, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) designated yesterday as “Commemoration Day of Taiwan’s Restoration,” turning the event into a conceptual staging post for its “restoration” to the People’s Republic of China (PRC). The Mainland Affairs Council on Friday criticized
The topic of increased intergenerational conflict has been making headlines in the past few months, showcasing a problem that would only grow as Taiwan approaches “super-aged society” status. A striking example of that tension erupted on the Taipei MRT late last month, when an apparently able-bodied passenger kicked a 73-year-old woman across the width of the carriage. The septuagenarian had berated and hit the young commuter with her bag for sitting in a priority seat, despite regular seats being available. A video of the incident went viral online. Altercations over the yielding of MRT seats are not common, but they are