The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is taking stock of its defeat in the Kaohsiung mayoral by-election on Saturday last week, and promising to adjust its course and reflect on its failings.
This election result is not an isolated defeat: It is the most recent in a string of major defeats this year alone, including the presidential election in January and the recall of the Kaohsiung mayor — the hapless Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) — in June. All three were related to Han, who only two years ago rode to victory on the so-called “Han wave.”
On Sunday, KMT caucus whip Lin Wei-chou (林為洲) opined that it was now time for the party to bid farewell to the Han wave, and to treat the whole phenomenon as a “legend.”
Legends are historical circumstances that may or may not have occurred. The Han wave certainly did happen. More importantly, legends derive their status from their ability to captivate the imagination of a group or nation, and sometimes even define that group or nation’s sense of identity and purpose.
In this way, Lin is correct in saying the Han wave should be treated as a legend, but that is precisely why it is not going to suddenly lose its power over the people whose imaginations it captivated, and why a divorce from Han is going to be a lot messier than simply saying goodbye.
Legends often consist of a story with a persuasive moral message woven into its narrative structure, generally with a charismatic central character.
The Han wave has two of these: the story of the hero’s meteoric ascent from political obscurity and a populist charisma that completely overshadowed that of his Democratic Progressive Party rival at the time, former vice premier Chen Chi-mai (陳其邁).
In a twist of fate worthy of legends, Chen won the by-election by a landslide.
Unfortunately for the KMT, the Han wave completely lacked any persuasive moral message, a strong vision for the party’s future or a firm understanding of its values that could have united the party.
Han is no King Arthur or Cao Cao (曹操); he is closer to an Ah-Q (阿Q) or Don Quixote figure, well-meaning and utterly convinced of his abilities, but having a complex relationship with reality.
This is the man that the KMT allowed to take it into the presidential election, and for many KMT members and supporters, defined the party and its message.
His political career having collapsed after his recall, Han has left a void in terms of the party’s vision.
KMT Chairman Johnny Chiang (江啟臣) is not to blame for this predicament. It was his predecessor, former KMT chairman Wu Den-yih (吳敦義), who allowed the party to be hijacked by Han. Unlike the star-struck “Han fans,” Wu knew Han’s limitations, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and opened up the path for him to become the party’s presidential nominee.
However, since he became chairman in January, Chiang has mumbled about vague ideas for reform. His strategy going into the by-election — not trying to win, just trying not to lose — was defeatist from the outset and a lost opportunity in terms of presenting a strong, unified political vision for the party.
Many elements within the KMT may well wish to see the back of Han and the Han wave phenomenon, but it is not going to vanish into thin air or become the stuff of legends with no bearing on the present.
Meanwhile, Chiang has shown himself to be qualified only as a caretaker chairman until a stronger figure takes the reins.
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