If there was one thing that former President Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) could count on, it was the inability of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) to stare down splinter groups at election time.
In 1994, Chen relied on a terrible split in what became known as the pan-blue camp when hardline Mainlanders formed the New Party. Its candidate for Taipei City mayor, Jaw Shaw-kong (趙少康) — now a media identity and businessman — ran a savvy campaign that undercut KMT incumbent Huang Ta-chou (黃大洲), an inoffensive man whose dull demeanor and staid politics were easy prey. The pan-blue vote was evenly split — and Chen sailed through with 44 percent of the vote.
In 2000, Chen capitalized on the refusal of James Soong (宋楚瑜) to lay down and die when Lien Chan (連戰) secured the KMT’s nomination for president. Soong’s people skills, experience as provincial governor and campaign chest destroyed Lien’s ambitions — and his already limited credibility — but didn’t quite convince Chen’s supporters, who prevailed by a margin of less than 3 percent.
Chen, of all people, knows the worth of a quarreling enemy. His elevation to statesman — and the longer-term neutering of potential opponents — depended on it.
Now, as the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) struggles to get back on its feet after years of electoral failure and amid the legal miseries of its former stars, Chen has injured what remains of his legacy by involving himself in party squabbles at a time when he should be directing all of his energies into his court case and trying to elicit the sympathy of colleagues and voters.
Chen is emulating the strategic disorder of his earlier KMT foes by sniping at DPP Chairperson Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) from his Taipei County detention center. The reasons for this intrigue — disputed candidates for year-end elections, factional fussing and assorted perceived slights — are not so important. What is important is that Chen is not only forfeiting his credibility as a party elder, but also that he apparently can no longer distinguish between what is possible and what is quixotic.
Chen is losing the sympathy and support of people who placed their trust in him over the course of a remarkable career and in three vital elections. This is a tragic thing in itself, but the greater danger is that this disappointment will help shield this nation’s pathetically compromised judicial system from necessary scrutiny.
Like so many other fading politicians, Chen cannot tolerate life on the margins of power. The irony is that Chen, whether found guilty or not guilty, could exert much more influence if he trusted in the intelligence of ordinary people and carried himself with more dignity.
It appears that Chen is beset by the messianic hubris that comes with years of self-absorption. The books that he has published while in prison, for example, are a very bad idea: They are testaments to narcissism and distraction, a fantasia of poor discipline and inflated self-regard.
As during his second term as president, Chen is receiving very bad counsel, or else he is ignoring the best possible advice: A former leader charged with serious crimes only hurts himself, his cause and his country by refusing to elevate himself above mundane and divisive politicking.
In recent weeks, Taiwan has witnessed a surge of public anxiety over the possible introduction of Indian migrant workers. What began as a policy signal from the Ministry of Labor quickly escalated into a broader controversy. Petitions gathered thousands of signatures within days, political figures issued strong warnings, and social media became saturated with concerns about public safety and social stability. At first glance, this appears to be a straightforward policy question: Should Taiwan introduce Indian migrant workers or not? However, this framing is misleading. The current debate is not fundamentally about India. It is about Taiwan’s labor system, its
Japan’s imminent easing of arms export rules has sparked strong interest from Warsaw to Manila, Reuters reporting found, as US President Donald Trump wavers on security commitments to allies, and the wars in Iran and Ukraine strain US weapons supplies. Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s ruling party approved the changes this week as she tries to invigorate the pacifist country’s military industrial base. Her government would formally adopt the new rules as soon as this month, three Japanese government officials told Reuters. Despite largely isolating itself from global arms markets since World War II, Japan spends enough on its own
On March 31, the South Korean Ministry of Foreign Affairs released declassified diplomatic records from 1995 that drew wide domestic media attention. One revelation stood out: North Korea had once raised the possibility of diplomatic relations with Taiwan. In a meeting with visiting Chinese officials in May 1995, as then-Chinese president Jiang Zemin (江澤民) prepared for a visit to South Korea, North Korean officials objected to Beijing’s growing ties with Seoul and raised Taiwan directly. According to the newly released records, North Korean officials asked why Pyongyang should refrain from developing relations with Taiwan while China and South Korea were expanding high-level
Swiftly following the conclusion of Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun’s (鄭麗文) China trip, China’s Taiwan Affairs Office unveiled 10 new policy measures for Taiwan. The measures, covering youth exchanges, agricultural and fishery imports, resumption of certain flights and cultural and media cooperation, appear to offer “incentives” for cross-strait engagement. However, viewed within the political context, their significance lies not in promoting exchanges but in redefining who is qualified to represent Taiwan in dialogue with China. First, the policy statement proposes a “normalized communication mechanism” between the KMT and the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). This would shift cross-strait interaction from
RSS