The Taipei 101 skyscraper has become an internationally recognized a symbol of Taiwan.
How can we allow a defining landmark to be associated with a scandal-ridden company whose lack of business ethics — exposed by repeated cooking oil scandals — has tarnished the image of both the nation and the made-in-Taiwan label, as well as possibly putting consumers’ health at risk?
The effort on Tuesday to oust Wei Ying-chiao (魏應交), chairman of the scandal-ridden Ting Hsin International Group (頂新國際集團) from his posts as president and vice chairman of the Taipei Financial Center Corp (TFCC), which owns Taipei 101, appears to be a prime example of the government acting in response to public outrage, since the government controls the majority of seats on Taipei 101’s board of directors.
However, did President Ma Ying-jeou’s (馬英九) government truly act tough and push Wei out? While Wei did, in the end, give up his two TFCC posts, a closer look at the day’s events indicates that the government should not be claiming any credit.
The government holds a 44.35 percent stake in TFCC, while Ting Hsin has a 37.17 percent share. The remaining shares are held by Cathay Financial Holding Co, CTBC Financial Holding Co, Shin Kong Life Insurance Co and another firm.
The government’s stake gives it control of six of the 13 board seats. CTBC Financial, which holds one seat, had pledged its support beforehand for whatever decision the government-backed board members made. So the government certainly had a strong voice to demand that Wei withdraw from Taipei 101’s management team.
Wei was defiant before Tuesday’s board meeting, saying that he respected, but would not comply with the government’s calls for him to step down.
No concrete decision was actually reached during the board meeting, which left the Ministry of Finance to say afterwards that it would hold a provisional meeting in two weeks to deal with the matter.
It was not until two hours later that Wei announced that he would tender his resignation to TFCC chairwoman Christina Sung (宋文琪), thereby averting a showdown with the ministry.
One has to wonder what happened during those two hours that made Wei change his mind. Was there any sort of negotiation between Wei and the government, was some sort of deal reached?
Such doubts are natural, given the government’s wimpy attitude in its dealings with Wei, which stand in stark contrast to the way it dealt with former TFCC chairwoman Diana Chen (陳敏薰) in 2009 amid concerns about her competence. Chen was quickly ousted and replaced by Harace Lin (林鴻明) — although he ended up being indicted on embezzlement charges in January last year in connection with his Jin Shang Chang Development Co.
Rumors that Ma received NT$1 billion (US$33 million) in political donations from Ting Hsin and that he has served as a “patron” of the group have also clouded the issue.
So can the public really be declared the winner in the “fight” against Ting Hsin now that Wei has quit his Taipei 101 management posts? Maybe not.
Not only does Ting Hsin still hold a big stake in TFCC, it is seeking to acquire cable television operator China Network Systems, which serves nearly 30 percent of the nation’s cable TV subscribers. Can such a company be trusted with managing important and influential media enterprises?
The government has much to do and needs to prove that there is no room — either in the business world or in politics — for such “black-hearted” conglomerates in Taiwan.
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,
When it became clear that the world was entering a new era with a radical change in the US’ global stance in US President Donald Trump’s second term, many in Taiwan were concerned about what this meant for the nation’s defense against China. Instability and disruption are dangerous. Chaos introduces unknowns. There was a sense that the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) might have a point with its tendency not to trust the US. The world order is certainly changing, but concerns about the implications for Taiwan of this disruption left many blind to how the same forces might also weaken
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
On today’s page, Masahiro Matsumura, a professor of international politics and national security at St Andrew’s University in Osaka, questions the viability and advisability of the government’s proposed “T-Dome” missile defense system. Matsumura writes that Taiwan’s military budget would be better allocated elsewhere, and cautions against the temptation to allow politics to trump strategic sense. What he does not do is question whether Taiwan needs to increase its defense capabilities. “Given the accelerating pace of Beijing’s military buildup and political coercion ... [Taiwan] cannot afford inaction,” he writes. A rational, robust debate over the specifics, not the scale or the necessity,