Now that former Kaohsiung mayor Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) has been recalled, will the worrying trend that he rode to his initial electoral success — political fandom — disappear?
The past two years saw the emergence of the “Han fans,” a group of staunch supporters cleaving more to Han than to the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT).
It was because of them that Han organized huge rallies outside of Kaohsiung, even before he was nominated last year as the KMT’s presidential candidate. He and his fans fed off each other, and his image grew to something vastly more inflated than the hapless Han could live up to.
He plummeted to the ground like a modern-day Icarus, but his core supporters are the reason Han has become so troublesome for the KMT leadership, initially to former KMT chairman Wu Den-yih (吳敦義) and now to KMT Chairman Johnny Chiang (江啟臣).
Neither was prepared for voters being so overwhelmingly wedded to an individual politician rather than to the party and its platform — and neither had any idea how to deal with this new phenomenon.
Wu deferred the presidential nomination to a political neophyte and untested populist, while he settled for a place on the party’s legislator-at-large list. Chiang was forced to protect Han, whose supporters would like to see him steal the chairmanship at the nearest opportunity.
Vice President William Lai (賴清德) also had staunch followers prior to the Democratic Progressive Party presidential election primaries. After he lost to President Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文), however, he did nothing to encourage divisions, putting the good of the party before himself.
Former president Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) had charisma to bolster his political credentials. His inner circle enabled him to win battles within the KMT, but in public, Ma always represented the party first. However, his brand and charisma only went so far and his popularity ratings remained low for much of his time in office.
In the end, his political fortunes sank along with the party, when the electorate became suspicious of his pro-China policies.
Han also promoted pro-China policies, but he presented himself entirely differently. To his followers, he was a maverick and his popularity obliged the party, hijacked by the “Han fans,” to fall in line.
How has Taiwan come to this point, where personality cults manufactured around individual politicians can trump political parties?
So-called “retribution” recalls have already been mooted, although neither Han nor the KMT leadership back the idea, which has been driven by Han’s core supporters.
On Saturday last week, a rally to protest the recall was held in Taipei, drawing about 500 people, few of whom were from Kaohsiung, and most of whom were in their 50s and 60s. Again, these were mostly Han supporters, although Han had discouraged them from attending, and the KMT leadership, again, kept their distance.
The Han fans seem to have taken on a life of their own. The demographic of the crowd and the speeches suggested that the rally attracted a generation whose political ideals have been left behind by the nation’s majority.
The question is, have those who still believe that the overall good of a party is more important than individual demagoguery also been left behind?
Is this phenomenon a sign of the times, or could it be a mere worrying trend that will come to an end with Han’s probable political demise?
Fandom in the arts, entertainment and sports engages people on a personal level. It is OK for the objects of unquestioning adoration to be more idols than realities. The same cannot be said for political fandom, as politicians greatly affect the future of the nation.
Taiwan should reject two flawed answers to the Eswatini controversy: that diplomatic allies no longer matter, or that they must be preserved at any cost. The sustainable answer is to maintain formal diplomatic relations while redesigning development relationships around transparency, local ownership and democratic accountability. President William Lai’s (賴清德) canceled trip to Eswatini has elicited two predictable reactions in Taiwan. One camp has argued that the episode proves Taiwan must double down on support for every remaining diplomatic ally, because Beijing is tightening the screws, and formal recognition is too scarce to risk. The other says the opposite: If maintaining
India’s semiconductor strategy is undergoing a quiet, but significant, recalibration. With the rollout of India Semiconductor Mission (ISM) 2.0, New Delhi is signaling a shift away from ambition-driven leaps toward a more grounded, capability-led approach rooted in industrial realities and institutional learning. Rather than attempting to enter the most advanced nodes immediately, India has chosen to prioritize mature technologies in the 28-nanometer to 65-nanometer range. That would not be a retreat, but a strategic alignment with domestic capabilities, market demand and global supply chain gaps. The shift carries the imprimatur of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, indicating that the recalibration is
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), during an interview for the podcast Lanshuan Time (蘭萱時間) released on Monday, said that a US professor had said that she deserved to be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize following her meeting earlier this month with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平). Cheng’s “journey of peace” has garnered attention from overseas and from within Taiwan. The latest My Formosa poll, conducted last week after the Cheng-Xi meeting, shows that Cheng’s approval rating is 31.5 percent, up 7.6 percentage points compared with the month before. The same poll showed that 44.5 percent of respondents
China last week announced that it picked two Pakistani astronauts for its Tiangong space station mission, indicating the maturation of the two nations’ relationship from terrestrial infrastructure cooperation to extraterrestrial strategic domains. For Taiwan and India, the developments present an opportunity for democratic collaboration in space, particularly regarding dual-use technologies and the normative frameworks for outer space governance. Sino-Pakistani space cooperation dates back to the end of the Cold War in the 1990s, with a cooperative agreement between the Pakistani Space & Upper Atmosphere Research Commission, and the Chinese Ministry of Aerospace Industry. Space cooperation was integrated into the China-Pakistan