When President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) appointed the 43-year-old Wang Yu-chi (王郁琦) to head the Mainland Affairs Council, there wasan uproar. It was not a matter of his age, but of his experience, or lack thereof. Wang is a rookie, with no experience in foreign relations and no experience in dealing with China. One could even make the case that he lacks any practical political experience whatsoever. And yet now he has been propelled, in a single bound, into a key position in China relations. It’s difficult to know where to start in describing such a decision.
Is it possible there were no other candidates? Of course there were. And Wang was just one of three surprise appointments, the others being King Pu-tsung (金溥聰), named as Taiwan’s representative to the US, and Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Secretary-General Lin Join-sane (林中森), who is to take over at the Straits Exchange Foundation.
They are, to a man, amateurs in the position they are being offered, and yet these positions put them right in the thick of the all-important foreign relations with the US and China. Even pan-blue camp legislators are at a loss for words. This kind of political inbreeding is the sort of thing that only someone like Ma is capable of.
But what, exactly, is Ma up to? In terms of political relationships, it is not really all that complicated. People speak of Ma and King belonging to an exclusive club, and there certainly is something in that. This spate of nominations has less to do with Ma than it has to do with King; it was King who was at the heart of it all, allocating power where he wants it. To put it bluntly, King orchestrated these promotions, making sure that he was the central player within it.
Wang is but a foot soldier, but he is under King, not Ma. King is calling the shots here. King has said that Wang has the same political thinking on cross-strait affairs as Ma, but it is more accurate to say that Wang and King have the same ideas. This is the only way to explain how Wang, despite his lack of credentials for the job, has been chosen.
Turning to Lin, he has always been a bit of a yes man. While he was originally one of Vice President Wu Den-yih’s (吳敦義) men, and by all accounts he has been operating at high levels for some time, the main thing is that he is not associated with other senior KMT members involved in cross-strait relations, such as former vice president Lien Chan (連戰) and former KMT chairman Wu Poh-hsiung (吳伯雄), so King can use him with no concerns over where his loyalties may lie.
It is doubtful whether former foundation vice chairman Kao Koong-lian (高孔廉) will be overjoyed at Lin’s appointment. In his resignation letter, foundation Chairman Chiang Pin-kung (江丙坤) strongly recommended Kao as his successor, citing Kao’s experience, ability and judgement, saying that he was not only qualified to take over at the foundation, but would also be a good candidate for next council chairman.
Consequently, these appointments would have left Kao not only feeling aggrieved, but also rather humiliated.
Why did Ma have to go for Lin? Why is it that he would rather see Kao humiliated? The media have pointed out that it is because he is relatively new to the game. But hold on — isn’t that generally considered to be a shortcoming in a politician? Since when did that become a strength? Surely not because King will find it easier to control him? Or maybe it is that. And whoever controls King controls what all of the new appointees do in their roles.
No wonder the print and online media are all talking about all this as an example of political inbreeding. But is the public willing to accept this kind of nepotism in the government?
Chin Heng-wei is a political commentator.
Translated by Paul Cooper
Taiwan might just give up. That’s the argument Simon Shuster made in The Atlantic’s October issue. The US is unreliable, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) leadership is aligned with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and Taiwan does not have the military capability to defend itself in a prolonged war without help. What hope does Taiwan have? Quite a bit more, in fact, than Shuster lets on. Shuster points to genuine problems. The first Donald Trump administration had a mostly positive record on Taiwan policy. It regularized the arms sales process, enhanced the military-to-military relationship, and treated Taiwan more like a normal
On Oct. 10, 1911, gunfire in Wuchang (武昌) shattered the stillness of late-Qing China. What began as a regional uprising quickly ignited a chain reaction across the empire, toppling a dynastic order that had endured for more than two millennia and ushering in one of Asia’s first republics — the Republic of China (ROC). From that moment, the 10th day of the 10th month became a date of epochal significance, not merely in Chinese history, but in the broader arc of Asia’s encounter with modernity. Yet today, as Taiwan marks Double Ten National Day, the holiday’s meaning has undergone a transformation
A Facebook post by Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) earlier this month achieved record levels of engagement — although perhaps inadvertently. In it, he attacked Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) Legislator and Taipei mayoral candidate Puma Shen (沈伯洋) for an op-ed published in 2014 discussing drug harm reduction policies. In attempting to stir up fear with talk of community centers, drugs and needles, Chiang’s comment section exploded. More than 100,000 comments poured in within the first two hours; more than 330,000 after the first 12; and more than 400,000 by noon the following day. Rather embarrassingly, many commenters made a point
Last year, Legislative Speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) turned the Double Ten National Day ceremony into a platform for grievances against the government. Yesterday, standing before the president and foreign dignitaries, he warned against Taiwan becoming a “false democracy, in reality a dictatorship.” Then he called for unity. Democratic leaders must tolerate criticism, even on ceremonial occasions, but Han misused his position and a national celebration to insinuate that Taiwan’s elected president was steering the country toward dictatorship and cast himself as a statesman offering reconciliation. Han asked how Taiwan’s security should be examined, using a medical analogy. If he insists on playing