Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Legislator Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) — a great-grandson of Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) and potential KMT candidate for Taipei mayor — recently proposed changing the name of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall to the Taiwan Development Memorial Hall to commemorate all Taiwanese who helped build the nation over the past seven decades, including former presidents Chiang Kai-shek and his son Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國).
Chiang Wan-an said that the two former presidents contributed greatly to the development of Taiwan during the Cold War era, and that this achievement should be the goal of any political party in Taiwan.
When asked what should be done with the mammoth statue of Chiang Kai-shek in the hall, Chiang Wan-an said that there should be sufficient communication before taking action, and that it is not an issue that can be decided by a single person, party or a few lawmakers.
Chiang Wan-an’s proposal has sparked a furious debate. Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) Legislator Rosalia Wu (吳思瑤) said Chiang Wan-an’s suggestion showcased his “anxiety” about his election chances, while DPP Legislator Hung Sun-han (洪申翰) urged him to take his ancestor’s statue home with him. Sun Yat-sen School president Chang Ya-chung (張亞中), a deep-blue figure who stood in the KMT’s chairperson election last year, called it Chiang Wan-an’s “personal suggestion,” while accusing him of “singing the DPP’s tune.”
What is interesting about Chiang Wan-an’s proposal is not his suggested name for the hall, but the timing and purpose behind the move, and how it sheds light on his character and leadership.
The proposal is certainly politically motivated. Despite his initial lead in the polls, recent surveys show that the independent vote is swinging toward Taipei Deputy Mayor Vivian Huang (黃珊珊). With the proposal, Chiang Wan-an thought he could win independent voters back with a “neutral” approach to solve an issue considered “off-limits” to KMT members.
However, his move has only ruffled the feathers of deep-blue voters, whereas swing voters show no signs of rallying behind him. For deep-blue voters, the hall commemorates the Generalissimo, a god-like figure who led them through war and retreat, and the mere suggestion of renaming it is a sacrilege to his memory.
For swing voters, while the word “development” seems neutral, Chiang Wan-an’s emphasis on his ancestors’ contribution only shows his proclivity to gloss over the Chiangs’ wrongdoings and the damage they inflicted upon Taiwan.
Furthermore, when asked about concrete suggestions and actions regarding his proposal, such as the removal of the statue, Chiang Wan-an deflected the question. It is true that the hall’s transformation cannot be “decided by a single person,” but it is also safe to assume that Taipei residents would want to see a further demonstration of leadership and vision. If Chiang Wan-an cannot show the public that he is prepared for mayorship, he would only see his support decline further, and eventually lose the race for mayor of Taipei, a city that the KMT considers its stronghold.
Chiang Wan-an should start thinking about concrete policies for Taipei were he to be elected, for his reliance on his ancestry would not get him to the finish line in the election. If he could follow up with further details about his proposal and show the public that he is walking his own path by breaking away from the KMT’s deep-blue trajectory, he would shake off his image of being the “party’s boy” and rejuvenate his election hopes.
For the majority of Taipei residents, ancestry is not the first thing that comes to mind when choosing a mayor; they care more about the candidate’s competency and leadership.
Taiwan aims to elevate its strategic position in supply chains by becoming an artificial intelligence (AI) hub for Nvidia Corp, providing everything from advanced chips and components to servers, in an attempt to edge out its closest rival in the region, South Korea. Taiwan’s importance in the AI ecosystem was clearly reflected in three major announcements Nvidia made during this year’s Computex trade show in Taipei. First, the US company’s number of partners in Taiwan would surge to 122 this year, from 34 last year, according to a slide shown during CEO Jensen Huang’s (黃仁勳) keynote speech on Monday last week.
On May 7, 1971, Henry Kissinger planned his first, ultra-secret mission to China and pondered whether it would be better to meet his Chinese interlocutors “in Pakistan where the Pakistanis would tape the meeting — or in China where the Chinese would do the taping.” After a flicker of thought, he decided to have the Chinese do all the tape recording, translating and transcribing. Fortuitously, historians have several thousand pages of verbatim texts of Dr. Kissinger’s negotiations with his Chinese counterparts. Paradoxically, behind the scenes, Chinese stenographers prepared verbatim English language typescripts faster than they could translate and type them
More than 30 years ago when I immigrated to the US, applied for citizenship and took the 100-question civics test, the one part of the naturalization process that left the deepest impression on me was one question on the N-400 form, which asked: “Have you ever been a member of, involved in or in any way associated with any communist or totalitarian party anywhere in the world?” Answering “yes” could lead to the rejection of your application. Some people might try their luck and lie, but if exposed, the consequences could be much worse — a person could be fined,
When China passed its “Anti-Secession” Law in 2005, much of the democratic world saw it as yet another sign of Beijing’s authoritarianism, its contempt for international law and its aggressive posture toward Taiwan. Rightly so — on the surface. However, this move, often dismissed as a uniquely Chinese form of legal intimidation, echoes a legal and historical precedent rooted not in authoritarian tradition, but in US constitutional history. The Chinese “Anti-Secession” Law, a domestic statute threatening the use of force should Taiwan formally declare independence, is widely interpreted as an emblem of the Chinese Communist Party’s disregard for international norms. Critics