Resentment against China is growing not just in the US and Australia, but also increasingly in Europe, where leaders are showing signs of intense frustration over Beijing’s dictates on what is acceptable regarding its “one China” principle and, by default, on the Taiwan issue.
Europeans no longer hide their “had enough” feelings about Beijing’s attempts to influence their dealings with Taiwan.
Europe also feels emboldened by expressions of solidarity with Taiwan from US and Australian politicians, the latest statement being by Australian Minister of Defence Peter Dutton that it would be “inconceivable” for Australia not to join the US if Washington took action to defend Taiwan.
Dutton reinforced this resoluteness in an Australian newspaper interview after US Secretary of State Anthony Blinken spoke about the US and its allies taking “action” if China used force to alter the “status quo” in the Taiwan Strait.
The European Parliament has called for a “comprehensive enhanced partnership” with Taipei following the first-ever visit to Taiwan by a European Parliamentary delegation, which held talks with leading politicians.
Furthermore, the European Parliament has called for additional steps, which appear to Beijing as an effort to stray from its “one China” principle and slowly move toward establishing formal ties with Taiwan.
Even a simple change in the moniker of Taiwan’s overseas representations — China insists that host countries do not allow use of the term “Taiwan” in the nomenclature of such representations and use, instead, the term “Taipei” — is a provocation for Beijing. Such use of the name Taiwan is like waving a red flag to the snorting bulls of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which controls the lives of about 1.4 billion people.
For Europeans, Taiwan is a vibrant democracy with shared common values and ideals. Despite the international hurdles created by China, Taiwan has asserted itself as a robust economy and a leading technological powerhouse, particularly in areas such as artificial intelligence and semiconductor manufacturing.
By contrast, China’s autocratic rule is anathema not just for the US, but also for Europe.
The CCP’s endorsement of a third term for Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) has caused trepidation in the EU and the US. A resolution that the party passed last week is only the third of its kind in its 100-year history. The two previous resolutions were passed under Mao Zedong (毛澤東), who led the CCP to power in 1949, and Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平), whose reforms in the 1980s turned China into an economic powerhouse.
As in the US, Europe is not happy with China’s cultural policy, which purports to promote Chinese language and culture. Its Confucius Institutes, which have been set up in many parts of the EU and the US, have faced scrutiny, resulting in allegations that their work is inconsistent with their stated objectives and prompting calls for them to be shut down.
The institutes, established in 2004 to popularize Chinese language learning, are closely connected with the CCP — which is disconcerting for many in the US and Europe.
Notwithstanding the heavy economic club that China uses to clobber those deviating from its “one China” principle, European nations have been resisting its arm-twisting.
The Berlin-based Global Public Policy Institute has urged the German government to “boldly invest in its relations with Taiwan” and support efforts to give Taiwan a seat at the UN, while calling for it to support “Taiwan’s better representation within international organizations” and intensify contacts between Taiwanese and German lawmakers, non-governmental organizations, think tanks and students.
Indeed, institute director Thorsten Benner has called on Europe and the US to “identify economic and technological levers” to use against China.
One such lever would be to exclude China from the semiconductor added-value chain.
European nations are also taking steps to systematically intensify cooperation with Taiwan, not shying away from symbolic or other measures that could provoke China.
The European Parliament on Oct. 21 called on the EU to “strongly advocate for Taiwan’s meaningful participation in international bodies,” including UN organizations, and emphasized the need for a “comprehensive enhanced partnership with Taiwan.”
The EU was also urged to lay the groundwork for a “bilateral investment agreement with the Taiwanese authorities,” as well as calling on China to “put an immediate end to its ongoing intrusions into Taiwan’s air defense identification zone.”
EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy Josep Borrell has been calling for the reinforcement of the “trade and investment relationship” and to further develop “existing dialogues,” such as the Industrial Policy Dialogue or the Digital Dialogue on Economy.
Borrell said that the EU would seek to implement the European parliament’s more far-reaching demands.
While some EU nations have been weighing how to break out of the “one China” mold, others have demonstrated resoluteness in taking steps that might see them as parting with EU policy.
Lithuania, which is resentful of China imposing its position on its foreign policy, was the first EU nation to agree to open a “Taiwan” representative office on its soil. China protested the change and recalled its ambassador in Lithuania.
While economic and business exchanges between Taiwan and the EU are common, a visit by Minister of Foreign Affairs Joseph Wu (吳釗燮) and a high-profile business delegation late last month to the Czech Republic, Slovakia and EU headquarters in Brussels angered Beijing. Wu was received in Brussels by European parliamentarians, including Charlie Wehners of the ultra-right-wing Swede Democrats. Wehners is the European Parliament’s Rapporteur for Taiwan.
While European nations are trying to avoid causing harm to their ties with China, they are seemingly not averse to taking calculated risks or, as people in Brussels have told me, “targeted provocations” of China.
China could see more such bold steps by Europeans who are no longer willing to be caged within the rigid parameters of the “one China” principle.
Manik Mehta is a New York-based journalist.
When Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) sits down with US President Donald Trump in Beijing on Thursday next week, Xi is unlikely to demand a dramatic public betrayal of Taiwan. He does not need to. Beijing’s preferred victory is smaller, quieter and in some ways far more dangerous: a subtle shift in American wording that appears technical, but carries major strategic meaning. The ask is simple: replace the longstanding US formulation that Washington “does not support Taiwan independence” with a harder one — that Washington “opposes” Taiwan independence. One word changes; a deterrence structure built over decades begins to shift.
Taipei is facing a severe rat infestation, and the city government is reportedly considering large-scale use of rodenticides as its primary control measure. However, this move could trigger an ecological disaster, including mass deaths of birds of prey. In the past, black kites, relatives of eagles, took more than three decades to return to the skies above the Taipei Basin. Taiwan’s black kite population was nearly wiped out by the combined effects of habitat destruction, pesticides and rodenticides. By 1992, fewer than 200 black kites remained on the island. Fortunately, thanks to more than 30 years of collective effort to preserve their remaining
After Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) met Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) in Beijing, most headlines referred to her as the leader of the opposition in Taiwan. Is she really, though? Being the chairwoman of the KMT does not automatically translate into being the leader of the opposition in the sense that most foreign readers would understand it. “Leader of the opposition” is a very British term. It applies to the Westminster system of parliamentary democracy, and to some extent, to other democracies. If you look at the UK right now, Conservative Party head Kemi Badenoch is
A Pale View of Hills, a movie released last year, follows the story of a Japanese woman from Nagasaki who moved to Britain in the 1950s with her British husband and daughter from a previous marriage. The daughter was born at a time when memories of the US atomic bombing of Nagasaki during World War II and anxiety over the effects of nuclear radiation still haunted the community. It is a reflection on the legacy of the local and national trauma of the bombing that ended the period of Japanese militarism. A central theme of the movie is the need, at