I was impressed by the words of a certain young person who said during the Sunflower protest that their parents gained the right to vote because their grandparents started a revolution, but because their parents then voted unwisely, the young generation are now having to revolt again.
These words are not only moving, but also a fair approximation of the truth. However, they are not words that apply to President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) and his parents and grandparents.
A look back at the past few generations of the Ma dynasty reveals that the family is reactionary through and through — it is in their political DNA.
Ma’s father, Ma Ho-ling (馬鶴凌), fell foul of the communist revolution in which Chinese President Xi Jinping’s (習近平) father was involved, and fled to Taiwan as a reactionary exile; a fact he often proclaimed after arriving.
Ma Ho-ling continued resisting revolutionary movements after fleeing China, except this time it was the push by Taiwanese to secure democracy and human rights that he attempted to stamp out with violence. He had no need for votes: His power was derived entirely from his family background and his status. Ma Ho-ling believed these were sufficient entitlements to permanent power that could not be challenged — except, as it turned out, by a revolution.
True to the saying “like father, like son,” the reactionary patriarch sired a reactionary heir. The exiled Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) regime to which the elder Ma belonged suppressed the popular democracy movement in Taiwan, leading to the 1979 Kaohsiung Incident. Father and son tried to demonize the democracy movement — Ma Ho-ling in Taiwan and his son from the US, where he wrote misleading articles on behalf of the KMT that were packed with untruths characterizing the democracy activists as a “mob” and arguing for the need to suppress them.
According to US diplomatic reports from that period, the authorities in Taiwan orchestrated a riot, employing hired thugs to infiltrate a crowd of protesters and provoking police officers to incite violence. Concurrently, the police were instructed not to retaliate, even if they sustained heavy injuries, so as to highlight the thuggish elements within the “mob” in order to turn public opinion against the democracy activists.
Ma Ying-jeou was not only opposed to revolution during the Formosa Incident — as the Kaohsiung Incident is also known — he was also opposed to giving people the right to vote in 1991 when then-president Lee Teng-hui (李登輝) championed direct presidential elections in response to students’ demands for democratic reform, preferring to maintain indirect elections.
Because some of the parents of the Sunflower movement’s generation “voted for the wrong person” by supporting the reactionary Ma Ying-jeou, the students have been forced to take to the streets again for the sake of democracy.
From his position of power and his arrogance, the president has reacted to the Sunflower movement much the same way as he did to the Formosa Incident: violently suppressing protesters, distorting the truth and attempting to shift the blame onto the demonstrators.
Fortunately, the rise of social media, the lifting of martial law and the end of media censorship, all of which were won by the previous generation, has prevented the likes of Ma Ying-jeou and his father from being able to conceal the truth from the public. The Sunflower movement has shone a spotlight on the flaws of the nation’s constitutional government and the non-transparent way in which it works. It has revealed Ma Ying-jeou and the people around him to be insincere, anti-democratic, unrepentant reactionaries.
James Wang is a media commentator.
Translated by Paul Cooper
Taiwan stands at the epicenter of a seismic shift that will determine the Indo-Pacific’s future security architecture. Whether deterrence prevails or collapses will reverberate far beyond the Taiwan Strait, fundamentally reshaping global power dynamics. The stakes could not be higher. Today, Taipei confronts an unprecedented convergence of threats from an increasingly muscular China that has intensified its multidimensional pressure campaign. Beijing’s strategy is comprehensive: military intimidation, diplomatic isolation, economic coercion, and sophisticated influence operations designed to fracture Taiwan’s democratic society from within. This challenge is magnified by Taiwan’s internal political divisions, which extend to fundamental questions about the island’s identity and future
The narrative surrounding Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s attendance at last week’s Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) summit — where he held hands with Russian President Vladimir Putin and chatted amiably with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) — was widely framed as a signal of Modi distancing himself from the US and edging closer to regional autocrats. It was depicted as Modi reacting to the levying of high US tariffs, burying the hatchet over border disputes with China, and heralding less engagement with the Quadrilateral Security dialogue (Quad) composed of the US, India, Japan and Australia. With Modi in China for the
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) has postponed its chairperson candidate registration for two weeks, and so far, nine people have announced their intention to run for chairperson, the most on record, with more expected to announce their campaign in the final days. On the evening of Aug. 23, shortly after seven KMT lawmakers survived recall votes, KMT Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) announced he would step down and urged Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕) to step in and lead the party back to power. Lu immediately ruled herself out the following day, leaving the subject in question. In the days that followed, several
The Jamestown Foundation last week published an article exposing Beijing’s oil rigs and other potential dual-use platforms in waters near Pratas Island (Dongsha Island, 東沙島). China’s activities there resembled what they did in the East China Sea, inside the exclusive economic zones of Japan and South Korea, as well as with other South China Sea claimants. However, the most surprising element of the report was that the authors’ government contacts and Jamestown’s own evinced little awareness of China’s activities. That Beijing’s testing of Taiwanese (and its allies) situational awareness seemingly went unnoticed strongly suggests the need for more intelligence. Taiwan’s naval