They are young, but they aren't lightweights. They are political insiders, the president's men.
Although many factors contributed to President Chen Shui-bian's triumph in March, it's safe to say that primary among them was the focused effort of three of his closest aides -- Luo Wen-chia (
They have formed a powerful triangle, helping Chen emerge victorious in most of his campaign battles, from his legislative election in 1992 and the Taipei mayor's race in 1994, to his narrow victory for the nation's top post. But they are not eternal winners. In 1998, Chen's unexpected defeat in the re-election for Taipei mayor taught them something more about the quicksand that dots the political landscape.
PHOTO: CHEN CHENG-CHANG, TAIPEI TIMES
This triumvirate of thirtysomethings has been instrumental in helping Chen shed the party's stereotypical image of being sorrowful victims of political persecution, a move that helped them win the Taipei mayoralty. Though seemingly not in positions of substantial power, their influence upon Chen remains enormous. Luo, a master strategist and publicist, will be the vice-chairman of the Council for Cultural Affairs (
Keeping a low-profile will help deflect criticism of their youth and inexperience in national government, says Lin Chia-lung (
And it will help them prove, he says, that "they are no longer those callow young aides at the Taipei City Government."
Luo Wen-chia (羅文嘉)
Having established himself as one of Chen's principal aides for almost a decade, Luo, at 34, is not a new face to the media.
In 1989, he grabbed the public spotlight by putting a hat inscribed with "the people's savior (民族救星)" on a statue of Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), in the auditorium of National Taiwan University (NTU). The intent was to challenge the absurdity that Chiang, a tyrant for many Taiwanese, was worshipped as a national hero. As NTU's student body chairman, his action triggered enormous controversy.
Since 1991, Luo has been a creative force for Chen's campaigns, a brainstormer who pitches wild ideas that nonetheless have broad appeal. It is in the realm of grueling campaign politics that he is most comfortable. Among political activities, he says publicity is his favorite because it feels the least political. "It is an independent territory, where my imagination can run freely."
Luo served as Taipei City's Department of Information (新聞處) chairman from 1994 to 1997 when Chen was mayor. It was at this time that Taipei made efforts to do away with its drab appearance and to transform itself into an international metropolis, full of color and vitality.
It was the first time the city government threw a street party; poetry and verse was posted on busses; the mayor's image was made more familiar. It was Luo's idea to dress Chen as Santa Claus and Superman.
But Luo's novel approach has drawn criticism and he has been accused of currying people's favor with claptrap. He even stepped down from his post because two contestants fractured their arms at a tug-of-war he organized. That he is a resourceful aide is unquestionable, however. "To keep learning and to make progress makes me feel happiest," he says. "The value of life is not based on one's social status or wealth. Instead, it depends on how much you can get out of it [life]."
Luo says his life has not been easy, especially since he entered politics. "Every election is like a battlefield and there is no room for mistakes. Only through constant demonstration of my capability can I prove the value of my existence."
But while it is a common perception to judge people by their successes or failures, Luo says he holds a different perspective. "Outcomes should not be the only elements that are evaluated, what's even more vital is the entire learning process."
Ma Yong-cheng (馬永成)
Ma and Luo are both 1989 graduates of the Political Science Department of NTU. When they started working as Chen's assistants in the legislative Yuan in 1991, neither of them intended to stay in the political arena for long. "We just considered it a transition period during which we prepared for graduate studies overseas," Ma says.
Such a plan, however, was never carried out because their lives started to revolve around Chen's nascent political star. Compared with Luo, the 34-year-old Ma is more casual and takes on more background roles as a coordinator and policy strategist. His behind-the-scenes approach is due, in part, to some advice from a long-time staffer in city government. "He said, `Now that you are working in such a big organization, it is no longer sufficient for you to be a mere worker, you need to be a coordinator,'" Ma recalls. "He said city affairs could not be done by one person, a whole team was needed."
In spite of his young age, Ma frequently acts as a mediator between Chen and other DPP members. When facing these senior politicians, Ma is pressured to prove his ability. In Ma's opinion, there are both merits and disadvantages to being young: youth means energy and creativity, but also denotes inexperience and a lack of sophistication.
He says he has encountered challenges because of his relative immaturity, especially when he has made mistakes. People have ridiculed him, saying that he was a little child driving a big car. Yet, on the other hand, Ma says some senior figures have been very supportive.
Ma admits to being worried sometimes by the strict standards people impose on him, especially the media.
But he has learned a lot. When quizzed about his role in the new government, Ma offers a sober answer: "There is a huge difference between running a city and a country. It is way beyond my own ability to preside over every single detail. What I should do in the future is to hide behind the scenes, helping A-bian recruit men of talent."
Lin Jin-chan (林錦昌)
No briefcase, just a beat-up backpack, popular in the 70s and 80s, slung over his shoulder. Wearing a sports jacket and a pair of jeans, Lin appears somewhat grungy, not like the polished insider he is. "Tie and suit makes me uncomfortable," he says, flashing a smile.
Unlike Luo and Ma, Lin was totally disinterested in political activities before joining the team. As the winner of the United Daily News' annual writing contest -- one of Taiwan's most prestigious -- Lin was recruited for his outstanding communication skills.
"I found literature much more fascinating than politics," he says. "There was not an iota of enthusiasm for politics in my blood. I'd much prefer to engage in cultural events or writing," says Lin.
Since his graduation from the Foreign Languages and Literature Department at NTU in 1989, Lin has immersed himself in writing, teaching and advocating Taiwanese literature, until he joined up with Luo and Ma to campaign for A-bian.
He confides that his first impression of Chen was not that of a landmark politician. "A-bian is a remarkable political figure, yet he has no idea about how campaign publicity should run."
Lin's talent came to the fore in Chen's bid for Taipei mayor in 1994. It was a completely different type of campaign. When attending Chen's rallies it was almost like going to a carnival. While showing his strength, the humane side of Chen's personality was presented at the same time.
According to Lin, Chen's competence was obvious, but what he needed to do was emphasize Chen's grass roots background and the affectionate side of his character. The slogan Lin came up with, "Happiness, Hope, Chen Shui-bian (
The campaign not only sent Chen to head the Taipei City Government, it was also considered a turning period for the DPP.
"We aimed to fight a different campaign battle," says Lin. "In the past, the DPP was excessively caught up in its tragic past. However, to run an election campaign like this [for mayor of Taipei City], I figured that what concerned citizens more was not establishing ideology or passing on a democratic heritage, but the improvement of the quality of life. The result proved our assumption correct."
At 33, Lin has been appointed to significant positions in the city government and for a long time he served as advisor to the mayor. However, he says he is not ideally cut out for politics.
"I bear no ambition toward politics," he says. "I just feel lucky to see so many life fluctuations in such a short time. The best lesson I learned from A-bian is that neither glory nor failure lasts forever. What counts is the learning experience and how to make progress."
Many people noticed the flood of pro-China propaganda across a number of venues in recent weeks that looks like a coordinated assault on US Taiwan policy. It does look like an effort intended to influence the US before the meeting between US President Donald Trump and Chinese dictator Xi Jinping (習近平) over the weekend. Jennifer Kavanagh’s piece in the New York Times in September appears to be the opening strike of the current campaign. She followed up last week in the Lowy Interpreter, blaming the US for causing the PRC to escalate in the Philippines and Taiwan, saying that as
Nov. 3 to Nov. 9 In 1925, 18-year-old Huang Chin-chuan (黃金川) penned the following words: “When will the day of women’s equal rights arrive, so that my talents won’t drift away in the eastern stream?” These were the closing lines to her poem “Female Student” (女學生), which expressed her unwillingness to be confined to traditional female roles and her desire to study and explore the world. Born to a wealthy family on Nov. 5, 1907, Huang was able to study in Japan — a rare privilege for women in her time — and even made a name for herself in the
Would you eat lab-grown chocolate? I requested a sample from California Cultured, a Sacramento-based company. Its chocolate, not yet commercially available, is made with techniques that have previously been used to synthesize other bioactive products like certain plant-derived pharmaceuticals for commercial sale. A few days later, it arrives. The morsel, barely bigger than a coffee bean, is supposed to be the flavor equivalent of a 70 percent to 80 percent dark chocolate. I tear open its sealed packet and a chocolatey aroma escapes — so far, so good. I pop it in my mouth. Slightly waxy and distinctly bitter, it boasts those bright,
This year’s Miss Universe in Thailand has been marred by ugly drama, with allegations of an insult to a beauty queen’s intellect, a walkout by pageant contestants and a tearful tantrum by the host. More than 120 women from across the world have gathered in Thailand, vying to be crowned Miss Universe in a contest considered one of the “big four” of global beauty pageants. But the runup has been dominated by the off-stage antics of the coiffed contestants and their Thai hosts, escalating into a feminist firestorm drawing the attention of Mexico’s president. On Tuesday, Mexican delegate Fatima Bosch staged a