On April 24, Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) legislators Huang Chao-shun (黃昭順), Yen Kuan-hen (顏寬恆) and 14 other KMT lawmakers proposed that the regulations for granting family members of Chinese spouses permanent residency in Taiwan be relaxed, on the grounds that their parents might need long-term care or home care services.
They retracted the proposal two days later following a massive public outcry over the risks of sharing the nation’s healthcare resources with Chinese.
On April 29, Taoyuan City Councilor Wang Hao-yu (王浩宇) posted on Facebook an image showing the waiting times at a Hong Kong hospital, urging Taiwanese to see the potential consequences of Chinese patients eating up National Health Insurance (NHI) resources.
The picture from Hong Kong’s North District Hospital Specialist Outpatient Clinic shows that patients have to wait 28 months for an ultrasound scan, 20 months for a CT scan and six months for nuclear medicine imaging.
As a Hong Kong resident, I can say that the waiting times look rather promising in comparison with some other public hospitals in the territory, where people have to wait even longer.
I live in New Territories West and usually see a doctor at Tuen Mun Hospital, where I would have to wait 29 months for cataract surgery and 125 months — more than 10 years — for knee replacement surgery.
If I were to suddenly have an ear, nose and throat problem, and a physician from the general practice department suggested a referral to the otolaryngologist for further checks, I would be on the waiting list for 58 weeks. The waiting list for an ophthalmologist is even longer: 68 weeks.
Hong Kongers have become indifferent and inured to the issue, because they have been forced to accept 150 new immigrants per day from China since July 1, 1997, when the UK handed over the territory to China, in addition to large numbers of employees working at Chinese businesses, foreign laborers and Chinese students who have swarmed into Hong Kong over the years.
Over the past 20 years, more than 1 million Chinese have immigrated to Hong Kong for “family reunions.” It would be surprising if Hong Kong’s medical system had not become monopolized by Chinese and collapsed.
To one’s bewilderment, some Taiwanese Internet users have cast doubt on the picture’s authenticity, saying that it must be fabricated.
These people are either too naive or they have ulterior motives: They are either members of the “50 cent army” — Internet users hired by the Chinese Communist Party to manipulate public opinion — or aloof nerds who never leave home. They are, in a nutshell, blind to reality.
I would advise Huang, Yen and other KMT lawmakers to think twice before planning to sell out Taiwan.
In any case, they should never sell out the nation’s health insurance system and medical resources, which are so closely related to their personal interests.
Kot Chun is a writer from Hong Kong.
Translated by Chang Ho-ming.
In the past month, two important developments are poised to equip Taiwan with expanded capabilities to play foreign policy offense in an age where Taiwan’s diplomatic space is seriously constricted by a hegemonic Beijing. Taiwan Foreign Minister Lin Chia-lung (林佳龍) led a delegation of Taiwan and US companies to the Philippines to promote trilateral economic cooperation between the three countries. Additionally, in the past two weeks, Taiwan has placed chip export controls on South Africa in an escalating standoff over the placing of its diplomatic mission in Pretoria, causing the South Africans to pause and ask for consultations to resolve
An altercation involving a 73-year-old woman and a younger person broke out on a Taipei MRT train last week, with videos of the incident going viral online, sparking wide discussions about the controversial priority seats and social norms. In the video, the elderly woman, surnamed Tseng (曾), approached a passenger in a priority seat and demanded that she get up, and after she refused, she swung her bag, hitting her on the knees and calves several times. In return, the commuter asked a nearby passenger to hold her bag, stood up and kicked Tseng, causing her to fall backward and
In December 1937, Japanese troops captured Nanjing and unleashed one of the darkest chapters of the 20th century. Over six weeks, hundreds of thousands were slaughtered and women were raped on a scale that still defies comprehension. Across Asia, the Japanese occupation left deep scars. Singapore, Malaya, the Philippines and much of China endured terror, forced labor and massacres. My own grandfather was tortured by the Japanese in Singapore. His wife, traumatized beyond recovery, lived the rest of her life in silence and breakdown. These stories are real, not abstract history. Here is the irony: Mao Zedong (毛澤東) himself once told visiting
When I reminded my 83-year-old mother on Wednesday that it was the 76th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, she replied: “Yes, it was the day when my family was broken.” That answer captures the paradox of modern China. To most Chinese in mainland China, Oct. 1 is a day of pride — a celebration of national strength, prosperity and global stature. However, on a deeper level, it is also a reminder to many of the families shattered, the freedoms extinguished and the lives sacrificed on the road here. Seventy-six years ago, Chinese Communist leader Mao Zedong (毛澤東)