There is almost nothing in the world that a politician loves more than a good slogan, although it sometimes seems the more nonsensical the riff, the better. Most are about as substantial as a cloud on a sunny day.
A majority of the slogans in Taiwan involve turning the nation into something different, rebranding it — “the other China” or “the real China” were two that kept the former Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) propaganda machine going for decades.
Then Taiwan became “an Asian Tiger” and to maintain the push for development there were proposals to turn the nation into a “green silicon island,” “regional air hub,” “regional transportation hub,” “regional democracy hub,” an “Asian financial center,” an “Asian-Pacific hub,” or as Premier Jiang Yi-huah (江宜樺) urged in January — a “tertiary industry-based country.”
Former vice president Annette Lu (呂秀蓮), coiner of the “regional democracy hub” idea a few years ago, appears to have been looking for something to do since announcing in May that she was dropping out of the Democratic Progressive Party’s (DPP) Taipei mayoral primary. She has been working for a while on initiating a local referendum to stop the installation of fuel rods in the Fourth Nuclear Power Plant, but that is tied up in court challenges and other administrative issues.
So she has hit upon a new goal — having voters declare the nation a peaceful and permanently neutral nation via a national referendum. Such a move would eliminate the risk of Taiwan being a regional flash point and allow it to boost its trade, transportation and high-tech industries as well as focus on humanitarian efforts, she said.
Taiwan could become the “Switzerland of the Orient,” she said on Thursday.
Taiwan and Switzerland might not seem to have a lot in common at first, even if you draw a Venn diagram. When people think of Switzerland, some of the first things that come to mind are the Alps, Swiss Army knives, banks, watches, Swiss cheese (Emmental), chocolate and then, perhaps, neutrality.
As for Taiwan, the Central Mountain Range may not be as high as the Alps, and Yushan (玉山) is about 640m shorter than Monte Rosa, but it is the tallest mountain in East Asia. Kinmen knives are more like cleavers, and do not have as many nifty gadgets as the Swiss Army’s, but they are made out of remains of old bombshells. Taiwan has lots of banks, and Taiwanese semiconductors are as world famous as Swiss watches. Taiwan may not have a famous cheese, but tourists from around the world flock to try beef noodle soup — and even chou tofu (臭豆腐).
Another problem is that many other places have laid claim to the Switzerland of the Orient moniker, such as the Bulusan Lake area of the Philippines and China’s Guizhou Province. Both Bhutan and Pakistan’s Swat Valley claim to be “the Switzerland of Asia” — although the Pakistani Taliban have put a crimp in Swat’s tranquility — while Singapore appears to have an almost insurmountable lead to claim the “Switzerland of banking/gold trade in Asia” title.
However, the biggest problem is the notion of neutrality — something local politicians have never been able to achieve. The blue-green split in this nation appears far deeper than the political differences that divide many other countries — such as the North-South, East-West and Democratic-Republican fault lines in the US — so the idea of a neutral nation would seem far-fetched.
Yet the biggest problem is that the fingers on the regional flashpoint trigger lie not in Taipei, but in Beijing. One of the DPP’s weak points has always been its China policy, or lack thereof, and its ability to present a cohesive plan to counter Beijing’s united front drive toward unification. Spending time and money promoting a “neutrality” pipe dream will not help anyone or achieve anything.
Taiwan would be better served by trying to become the “Swiss chocolate maker of Asia.” It is certainly a more palatable idea.
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
The National Development Council (NDC) on Wednesday last week launched a six-month “digital nomad visitor visa” program, the Central News Agency (CNA) reported on Monday. The new visa is for foreign nationals from Taiwan’s list of visa-exempt countries who meet financial eligibility criteria and provide proof of work contracts, but it is not clear how it differs from other visitor visas for nationals of those countries, CNA wrote. The NDC last year said that it hoped to attract 100,000 “digital nomads,” according to the report. Interest in working remotely from abroad has significantly increased in recent years following improvements in
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or