When legislative bodies use special legislation to override the application of ordinary laws, they do so according to the time and place, the matter at hand and the people involved.
Sometimes this tactic is a clear indication of the real attitude of those in power toward public opinion, which hinges on what they themselves want to see happen. Sometimes it reflects the absurdity of the ordinary law that is being overridden.
One would hope that such instances would be few and far between. However, Article 10-2 of the Isolated Islands Construction Act (離島建設條例), which overrides the minimum turnout threshold stipulated in the Referendum Act (公民投票法), is an example of this situation.
Paragraph 1 of the article states that, where there are plans to allow tourist casinos on outlying islands, a local referendum should first be held in accordance with the Referendum Act, and that the proposal will pass if more than one half of the votes cast are in favor of it. Unlike other referendums at county and township levels, it is not required that more than half of all eligible voters vote in favor of the proposal.
It was this rule that applied when Penghu County held its referendum on Saturday to decide whether to allow gambling.
The reason that the Referendum Act’s threshold was excluded from the Isolated Islands Construction Act was quite clearly a concern that a high turnout threshold would hinder setting up casinos on Penghu, which those in power support.
The intention evident in this legislation demonstrates two things. On the one hand, it reveals that the threshold laid down in the Referendum Act is excessively high, making it hard for any referendum to pass. On the other, it exposes the real attitude of legislators toward public opinion.
With regard to “ordinary circumstances,” legislators set up a roadblock — a referendum threshold of half of all eligible voters — to prevent public opinion as expressed in referendums from interfering with the plans of those in power.
Lawmakers intentionally made the referendum system unduly difficult. But when a “special situation” came around in which those in power wanted to use public opinion to their benefit to endorse a controversial policy — opening casinos — the roadblock was removed.
In this case, they hoped to use the referendum results to back up their argument for allowing gambling in Penghu.
The threshold set for a referendum is an important factor in whether it stands any chance of passing and having an effect on government policy.
In the referendum and island construction laws, those in power show different attitudes toward public opinion.
It is hard to accept their manipulation of the referendum system to suit their own agenda.
It is even more distressing when a referendum is proposed on a subject that is not to the liking of those in power and they deploy their political stooges to put forward spurious reasons to prevent this expression of public opinion.
If those in power cannot understand that the expression of public opinion is a cornerstone of democracy and not a tool for political manipulation, and if those in power persist in their arrogant and patronizing attitude toward the public, then they should be aware of Confucius’ admonition: A ruler is like a boat and the people are the water. The water that keeps a boat afloat can also capsize it.
Huang Kuo-chang is an advisory committee member of Taiwan Thinktank.
TRANSLATED BY JULIAN CLEGG
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)