In many respects, Taiwan's society continues to demonstrate strong Chinese cultural traditions. The development of "constitutional democracy" -- a strange concept to the Chinese tradition -- is wrapped up in political rhetoric, "monarch-and-vassal" relationships, as well as stereotypical images of "loyal vassals" (
Legislators from a newly established political party have now and again used the idea of "loyal officials" personalified by figures such as Yueh Fei (岳飛) or Pi Kan (比干). It proves the amazing success of the KMT's over five-decade-long indoctrination of the "Three Principles of the People" (三民主義). Every political party nowadays has "totems" of its own -- the difference being that some parties have built memorial halls on the basis of political myths, while others oppose continuation of a nuclear power plant on scientific grounds. Which of the two sounds more reasonable?
Rumor has it that former premier Tang Fei
Many scholars insist that, according to the principles of separation of power, a new government has the power to "not implement" a budget item already passed by the legislature. In other words, the executive branch is entitled to reformulate policies. Otherwise, why bother to "rotate ruling parties?"
In countries with a cabinet system, the ruling party usually holds a majority of the seats in the parliament, thereby experiencing less trouble in administration. But under a presidential system, the executive power has a democratic and thus legitimate basis of its own. On pivotal policies, the president is not obliged to follow the previous government's policies, much less past decisions made by the legislature.
Even in Taiwan's ludicrous constitutional framework, a popularly elected president can take the initiative in national policy-making, too. If the legislature is able to compel the executive power or even pressure the public in the name of government authority to build a nuclear power plant for which preferable substitutes exist, then just exactly what kind of democratic constitution do we have on hand? It would be an issue beyond the comprehension of almost everyone.
Let's set aside these executive-legislative power conflicts that are after all a common occurrence in any given democracy. But we should not forget that in addition to the democratic principle, there is a "rule of law principle" enshrined in the Constitution of almost every country. Therefore, even if we leave aside the question of the legitimacy in continuing or halting the project, we should at least question the legitimacy of the plant's location.
If someone insists on constructing the Fourth Nuclear Power Plant or a nuclear waste storage site where the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall now sits, many citizens would surely label the idea as "ludicrous or absurd." However, only in such an apparently absurd suggestion can we bring to light more deep-seated and serious aspects of the issue. If building a nuclear plant in the heart of downtown Taipei is ludicrous, why isn't it equally ludicrous to consider putting it in either Kungliao (
This is not simply a "political" question. In accordance with the Administrative Procedure Law
When it comes to implementation of projects involving the interests of many citizens, the executive branch should follow public procedure and hold hearings (Article 164). Also, according to Article 18 of the Central Regulation Standards Law (中央法規標準法) the executive department can cancel or annul an earlier executive action -- in this case the approval of Kungliao as the plant site. After that, the government may hold public hearings in accordance with the Administrative Procedure Law and decide whether the plant can be legitimately built in Kungliao.
This resolution has many merits. First, at the constitutional level, it will help alleviate the conflict between the legislature and the executive branch, and resolve the problems deriving from the ambiguities of the budget law.
Second, if we accept the the premise that the plant budget should be implemented as planned, we can consider rejecting or annulling the earlier executive decision by drawing upon the legitimacy of the plant site selection instead. Such an alternative, to some degree, is likely to let the executive authorities regain control in policy-making. If the plant site cannot be finalized, then implementation of the plant budget cannot legitimately continue.
Third, only through discussions over the plant site can we lay bare the selfish pursuit of economic growth that is prevalent in Taiwan. During the discussions, the citizens, manufacturers, political parties and politicians who have been demanding nuclear power supply but want the power plants or nuclear waste storage sites to be built in other people's backyards, may be compelled to rethink whether they are can, through a majority decision, build their wealth on other people's suffering.
From the legal point of view, it is not a problem of political ideology or values, nor is it an issue of morality or conscience. Rather, it is a question of whether the legitimate rights of the people concerned have been fully respected. This basic legal question is a key to the Fourth Nuclear Power Plant dispute.
Ironically, while a political party still uses a famous memorial hall as their authoritarian totem, the Taiwanese people seem to have forgotten that all past decisions on nuclear plant sites were made through an "authoritarian" procedure that simply ignored principles of the rule of law, not to mention the fact that Orchid Island residents were deceived by the government at the time.
In fact, selfishness is not necessarily bad in a modern market-oriented economy, but there have to be legal limits. In fact, mere majority agreement at the legislature does not make for legitimacy. The justice that derives from a proper, legitimate procedure -- an important point Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou
Yen Chueh-an is an associate professor of law at National Taiwan University.
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