Tomorrow Tibetans around the world are to mark the 60th anniversary of National Uprising Day, commemorating the day when hundreds of thousands of Tibetans surrounded Norbulinka Palace in Lhasa to protect the Dalai Lama against a possible Chinese kidnapping attempt: It was a peaceful protest against the Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) rule over Tibet and its harsh occupation by the People’s Liberation Army (PLA).
Tibetans had grown increasingly restive since the PLA’s invasion in October 1950, and while the 1951 peace treaty between the Dalai Lama’s government and Beijing was supposed to ensure his control over his nation’s domestic affairs, and protect Tibetan culture, the reality was far different.
Resistance to Chinese rule had built up to the point that by the end of 1958 the PLA was threatening to bomb Lhasa, but it was the PLA’s invitation to the Dalai Lama to attend a performance and tea at its Lhasa headquarters — without bodyguards or Tibetan officials — that led Tibetans to surround Norbulinka.
While March 10 ended peacefully, the crowds around the palace refused to leave and over the next few days the PLA moved artillery into place, trained on the palace, so on March 17 the Dalai Lama was smuggled out to begin his escape to India.
Less than eight years after signing a peace treaty with Lhasa, Beijing had reneged on its promises, unhappy that Tibetans were not conforming to the CCP’s demands.
The 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration that led to the 1997 handover of Hong Kong stipulated that the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region would have executive, legislative and independent judicial power, including final adjudication, and the current social and economic system — including the rights and freedom of speech, the press, assembly, association, travel, movement and religious belief. It guaranteed Hong Kong full autonomy except for foreign affairs and defense.
However, despite Beijing’s trumpeting of its “one country, two systems” model, its promises on Hong Kong began to crumble within a decade.
The erosion has steadily increased since Xi Jinping (習近平) became CCP secretary-general in November 2012 and president of the People’s Republic of China the following March, a reflection of his widespread repression of China’s nascent civil society.
It is worth remembering just what Beijing’s promises and treaties are worth, given a drumbeat in the pan-blue camp for a cross-strait peace treaty if the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is returned to the Presidential Office next year.
While KMT Chairman Wu Den-yih (吳敦義) has not formally announced his candidacy, Sun Yat-sen School president Chang Ya-chung (張亞中) has, and both have talked about seeking such a pact.
If treaties signed in 1951 and 1984 were so easily trampled by Beijing, Taiwanese should be under no illusions about whether the democracy they fought so hard for would survive in the face of a “peace treaty.” If the “one country, two systems” model imposed on Hong Kong — along with its risible shadow that somehow it would help bring democracy to China — was unpalatable to Taiwanese in 1997, it is even more so now as China under Xi marches steadily backward, despite its economic advances.
Beijing’s new “social credit” system aimed at ensuring “trustworthy” citizens has already led to millions of people being barred from taking flights, buying train tickets, using public transportation, and buying insurance or real estate.
If Taiwan’s White Terror era was bad, technological advances have made the CCP’s repressive tactics more Orwellian than the KMT authoritarian state ever dreamed of.
Anyone who thinks a cross-strait treaty would benefit Taiwan is simply deluding themselves.
When Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) sits down with US President Donald Trump in Beijing on Thursday next week, Xi is unlikely to demand a dramatic public betrayal of Taiwan. He does not need to. Beijing’s preferred victory is smaller, quieter and in some ways far more dangerous: a subtle shift in American wording that appears technical, but carries major strategic meaning. The ask is simple: replace the longstanding US formulation that Washington “does not support Taiwan independence” with a harder one — that Washington “opposes” Taiwan independence. One word changes; a deterrence structure built over decades begins to shift.
The cancelation this week of President William Lai’s (賴清德) state visit to Eswatini, after the Seychelles, Madagascar and Mauritius revoked overflight permits under Chinese pressure, is one more measure of Taiwan’s shrinking executive diplomatic space. Another channel that deserves attention keeps growing while the first contracts. For several years now, Taipei has been one of Europe’s busiest legislative destinations. Where presidents and foreign ministers cannot land, parliamentarians do — and they do it in rising numbers. The Italian parliament opened the year with its largest bipartisan delegation to Taiwan to date: six Italian deputies and one senator, drawn from six
Recently, Taipei’s streets have been plagued by the bizarre sight of rats running rampant and the city government’s countermeasures have devolved into an anti-intellectual farce. The Taipei Parks and Street Lights Office has attempted to eradicate rats by filling their burrows with polyurethane foam, seeming to believe that rats could not simply dig another path out. Meanwhile, as the nation’s capital slowly deteriorates into a rat hive, the Taipei Department of Environmental Protection has proudly pointed to the increase in the number of poisoned rats reported in February and March as a sign of success. When confronted with public concerns over young
Taipei is facing a severe rat infestation, and the city government is reportedly considering large-scale use of rodenticides as its primary control measure. However, this move could trigger an ecological disaster, including mass deaths of birds of prey. In the past, black kites, relatives of eagles, took more than three decades to return to the skies above the Taipei Basin. Taiwan’s black kite population was nearly wiped out by the combined effects of habitat destruction, pesticides and rodenticides. By 1992, fewer than 200 black kites remained on the island. Fortunately, thanks to more than 30 years of collective effort to preserve their remaining
RSS