China’s residency permit for people from Taiwan, Macau and Hong Kong came into effect at the beginning of this month. It has already caused a number of complications, the most significant being that, despite Chinese officials claiming registration is voluntary, Beijing has been pressing Taiwanese working and studying in China to apply for the permit through China’s Taiwan Affairs Office.
Beijing is also leaning on a number of leading Taiwanese businesses operating in China and requesting that their owners meet application targets for Taiwanese staff. Fortunately, the majority of businesses approached have politely declined.
It is not difficult to detect what is going on. These permits form part of China’s Taiwan policy, and Beijing wants to ensure that the right number — and quality — of Taiwanese are applying for them.
As for quantity, Beijing has been busily promoting the permits as a tool to make living in China more convenient for Taiwanese. For instance, they can be used to purchase high-speed rail tickets and make hotel reservations ahead of business trips.
As for quality, Beijing is focusing its lobbying on Taiwanese with high social status, putting “soft” pressure on them by implying that having a permit is an unspoken rule for those working and living in China.
However, due to the high risk of holding one of these permits, Beijing has so far only succeeded in twisting the arms of the directors of Taiwanese chambers of commerce in a few locations, such as Shanghai, Fuzhou and Xiamen.
The big players of Taiwanese commerce have not yielded to Beijing’s pressure and have reportedly stated — quite rightly — that requiring staff to apply for the permits would be prohibited under Taiwanese law.
The permits are really just an extension of the residential permit system introduced in 2016. At the time, Beijing’s aim was to ensure that a section of the floating population in China’s cities were able to enjoy the same benefits as household residential permit holders, providing them with access to the local social security system, which granted the so-called “five insurances and one benefit”: insurance for medical treatment, old-age care, unemployment, workplace injury and maternity care, as well as access to housing benefits.
However, the system quickly turned into a hotbed of corruption open to abuse by local government officials, and the central government found it difficult to integrate the system at a national level. A series of related social security fund corruption cases surfaced in cities, including Guangzhou, Shenzhen and Beijing, as well as in Shandong, Sichuan and Chongqing provinces.
In November last year, a report by the Chinese Ministry of Human Resources and Social Security revealed that in 2016, seven provincial-level pension insurance funds paid out more in claims than they received in contributions.
In one example, Heilongjiang Province’s pension insurance fund had accumulated debts of 2.32 billion yuan (US$338,3 million); just the tip of a far larger problem.
In other words, the smokescreen of enhanced convenience is being used to conceal the high degree of uncertainly and unpredictability inherent in becoming a resident in a country run by an authoritarian government. To apply for the new residency permit means having to take the rough with the smooth and accept a high degree of risk.
These comments only touch on systemic matters, but there are also political and economic controls, which cause additional problems that go beyond the scope of this article.
Whether they are fully cognizant of the fact, the situation reflects the predicament in which China-based Taiwanese now find themselves. It also shows that the government must not shirk its responsibility to protect its citizens.
The question is: Will the justification the big-name Taiwanese corporations have so far used — that requiring Taiwanese staff to apply for Chinese residency permits would be illegal under Taiwanese law — be sufficient to keep Beijing at bay?
The wording of the Act Governing Relations Between the People of the Taiwan Area and the Mainland Area (兩岸人民關係條例) is extremely vague. Perhaps it would be able to withstand a few attacks, but not a full-on assault.
The act therefore urgently needs to be amended using a belt-and-braces approach, and with the utmost haste if Taiwanese are to be protected. If the government fails to do so, how will it have any hope of negotiating better terms with Beijing?
From Beijing’s perspective, it is running against the wind, as export-based companies are gradually leaving China. Given the situation, the direction Taiwanese government policy should take is abundantly clear.
Tzou Jiing-wen is the editor-in-chief of the Liberty Times (the Taipei Times’ sister newspaper).
Translated by Edward Jones
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