Any Chinese tourists who picked up a newspaper here earlier this month would probably have been intrigued to read the frank discussion of the government’s performance following Tropical Storm Kalmaegi.
The storm killed 20 people and left NT$1.05 billion (US$34 million) in crop damage on the heels of severe flooding that inundated fields and left farmers reeling last month. In the eyes of the disaster-weary Chinese, the damage and death toll would surely seem miniscule. At the same time, the right to ask questions about why the weather bureau did not issue a stronger warning ahead of Kalmaegi, or who is responsible for the inadequacy of the drainage system in parts of the country, is a critical ingredient to pursuing progress, and one conspicuously lacking in China.
There, in the wake of an earthquake that left 70,000 dead and another 20,000 “missing,” authorities have responded to public calls for accountability with threats and detentions.
Activist Huang Qi (黃琦) was arrested for “holding state secrets” after publishing articles online that took a critical look at the state’s response to the Sichuan disaster. Chinese local authorities have swept under the carpet probes into what has turned out to be a chronic problem: “tofu” schools, the substandard and unsafe buildings that are an unmistakable product of corruption. Reports indicate that grief-stricken parents who try to take their petitions to Beijing have been physically blocked from leaving their hometowns.
But it is precisely this demand for accountability that China so desperately needs if it is to make progress on such basic services as safe schools and efficient disaster-response mechanisms. Frustration would seem to be mounting in China, but the authorities, although painfully aware, have offered little more than a semblance of government accountability. They simply went through the motions of probing corruption after the Sichuan quake.
Elsewhere, in a classic case of tokenism, the authorities last week specified three locations in Beijing where demonstrations would be allowed during the Olympics.
The designation of protest zones seems to have been a charade intended as much for the international community as for local people, as the news was also reported in China, where such developments are sometimes only released in English to appeal to an international audience.
Unfortunately, applying for permission to rally in these areas would be, as some dissidents have said, like walking into a trap. Beijing police are out in full force to prevent anyone with a genuine grievance from coming anywhere near the zones or the thousands of reporters swarming into the Olympic city.
Ye Guozhu (葉國柱), who was due for release on Saturday after serving a four-year sentence for applying to hold a peaceful demonstration in Beijing against forced evictions, was immediately moved to a new detention center for safekeeping until the Games have passed. Also last week, police told Tiananmen Square Massacre activist Qi Zhiyong (齊志勇) to leave Beijing for the duration of the Olympics or be arrested.
Looking across the Strait, it is difficult not to recall Taiwan’s authoritarian past. As the Beijing Olympic Organizing Committee noted last week, Chinese law, and indeed the Constitution, guarantees the right to demonstrate peacefully. But it would seem that progressive Chinese — much like the Taiwanese 60 years ago — have a long and bitter fight ahead of them if they are ever to exercise that right without fearing retaliation from the government.
There is much evidence that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is sending soldiers from the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) to support Russia’s invasion of Ukraine — and is learning lessons for a future war against Taiwan. Until now, the CCP has claimed that they have not sent PLA personnel to support Russian aggression. On 18 April, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelinskiy announced that the CCP is supplying war supplies such as gunpowder, artillery, and weapons subcomponents to Russia. When Zelinskiy announced on 9 April that the Ukrainian Army had captured two Chinese nationals fighting with Russians on the front line with details
On a quiet lane in Taipei’s central Daan District (大安), an otherwise unremarkable high-rise is marked by a police guard and a tawdry A4 printout from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs indicating an “embassy area.” Keen observers would see the emblem of the Holy See, one of Taiwan’s 12 so-called “diplomatic allies.” Unlike Taipei’s other embassies and quasi-consulates, no national flag flies there, nor is there a plaque indicating what country’s embassy this is. Visitors hoping to sign a condolence book for the late Pope Francis would instead have to visit the Italian Trade Office, adjacent to Taipei 101. The death of
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), joined by the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), held a protest on Saturday on Ketagalan Boulevard in Taipei. They were essentially standing for the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which is anxious about the mass recall campaign against KMT legislators. President William Lai (賴清德) said that if the opposition parties truly wanted to fight dictatorship, they should do so in Tiananmen Square — and at the very least, refrain from groveling to Chinese officials during their visits to China, alluding to meetings between KMT members and Chinese authorities. Now that China has been defined as a foreign hostile force,
On April 19, former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) gave a public speech, his first in about 17 years. During the address at the Ketagalan Institute in Taipei, Chen’s words were vague and his tone was sour. He said that democracy should not be used as an echo chamber for a single politician, that people must be tolerant of other views, that the president should not act as a dictator and that the judiciary should not get involved in politics. He then went on to say that others with different opinions should not be criticized as “XX fellow travelers,” in reference to