In the aftermath of the nine-in-one-elections, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) has lost further ground to the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). The pan-blue camp has marched deep into green territory, leaving the DPP with governance of only cities and counties south of the Beigang River (北港溪), the natural border between Yunlin and Chiayi counties. Despite the governing party’s outstanding performance in curbing the COVID-19 pandemic, it failed to resonate with the public and in turn, the votes in their hands.
In post-election somberness, President Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) held a luncheon review meeting to discuss the party’s dismal performance. Members across the board have reached the consensus that the party should undergo a major review, and invite younger people to engage in decisionmaking in the party.
Following Tsai’s resignation as chairperson, the DPP Central Standing Committee chose Kaohsiung Mayor Chen Chi-mai (陳其邁) as its interim chairman, while Taoyuan Mayor Cheng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) was elected head of the post-election audit team.
Even if the DPP had claimed a sweeping victory, it would still have a blind spot: It has overlooked the influence of local factions and electoral clientelism.
Although the DPP is not lacking national political stars, it falls short of powerful local factions when compared with the KMT. KMT-style clientelism has a long history. A KMT politician would usually “settle down” at a chosen city or county, garner support from local power holders and form a tight-knit network with local economic interest groups, leading to the formation of a regional collective interest group.
In a clientelist system, local politicians usually dedicate their entire careers to the chosen area, so it has developed local political dynasties.
These “political workers” usually concentrate on winning local elections. To establish a rapport with voters, they carry out small favors. If they encounter a setback or have their interests undermined, they seek revenge in the next election, especially if their opponents are from the DPP.
Despite the DPP’s effort to counter KMT clientelism, it has not had much success on wrecking the system — not to mention other less influential parties — as clientelism is deeply embedded within the KMT.
When the KMT was defeated by the communists in the Chinese Civil War and it retreated to Taiwan in 1949, it transplanted its policy of playing one faction against another. Clientelism was implemented to “divide and rule,” with the aim of subjugating Taiwanese and reinforcing the party’s legitimacy.
At the central level was a clientelism led by former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石) and his circle, who had an iron grip on the state apparatus. At the local level, the KMT co-opted power brokers across the board, including gangsters, to be under its thumb. By taking orders from above, local beneficiaries — including government institutions and civic groups — were regularly rewarded with a slice of the action by the KMT.
These local groups maintained loyalty to a foreign regime in exchange for political and economic privileges, and pulled their weight by keeping their residing area under the KMT’s governance. They would not dare to overreach unless “handpicked” for promotion by the higher echelons in the KMT.
Those who refused to work with the KMT back then were mostly oppressed during the White Terror era or were only given sporadic political opportunities.
The KMT’s binary system of clientelism still looms in local elections even after the nation’s democratization. The KMT relied on its influence for survival when it lost control of the presidency and central government.
As Taiwan continued its democratic and civic reforms, the KMT’s system went into decline. Nonetheless, it still possesses an advantage that no other party has. Even in DPP-run city or county governments, the DPP still has to look after the interests of local factions. With a monopoly on power and interests by local factions, the rise of other competitors has been hindered.
The DPP has tried to rope in pro-KMT local factions, but the DPP’s approach to political reform means it does not offer them endless gains and profits as the KMT had.
As a result, the DPP and other new parties have had trouble replicating the KMT-style clientelism.
Those in the DPP who rose to political power from a local faction usually made their way into the Legislature and when the DPP gained control of the central government, they were promoted to positions in the office of the president or in the five yuans.
This approach precluded the DPP from building its own clientelist system. Unlike the KMT, the DPP does not have people deep in the pockets of every city and county, each loyally staying at their posts and defending its “territory” and interests.
Local politicians have a perfect understanding of their own abilities and histories, and they know that as power rarely falls out of the hands of the elite, there is a “glass ceiling” stopping them from advancing to higher political positions.
Local factions therefore turn into watchdogs of their own territories and interests, forming a “grassroots structure” that other parties cannot easily alter.
However, as Taiwan’s democracy has evolved, and young generations started engaging in local politics, the nation has engaged in community building and cultivated civic consciousness. Other minor parties might have put more energy into developing these important aspects of nationhood than the DPP.
How the DPP plans to formulate a strategy is a million dollar question. Looking at the DPP’s performance in 2016 compared with 2020, and in 2018 compared with this year, it is clear that this is an issue that cannot wait. Modern parties cannot do without a political vision, but it is essential not to be out of touch with people’s lived reality.
The KMT lacks leadership, but it is good at mobilizing local factions. Yet for the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), it is the opposite.
The DPP previously put forward a “local encompasses central” strategy, but it had a limited effect. With lukewarm efforts on the local level, the DPP has appealed to the public with its vision and policy program.
However, when it took control of the central government, it failed to properly address or even uproot the clientelist system. The nine-in-one elections have shown that the TPP and the New Power Party have similar issues.
Despite Taiwan’s democratic transition 30 years ago, the local political scene has remained relatively unchanged, and “strongholds” continue to hold “iron votes.”
Although former president Lee Teng-hui (李登輝) capitalized on this system to facilitate a peaceful revolution, it has become an impediment to the progress of democracy.
Translated by Rita Wang
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.
The cancelation this week of President William Lai’s (賴清德) state visit to Eswatini, after the Seychelles, Madagascar and Mauritius revoked overflight permits under Chinese pressure, is one more measure of Taiwan’s shrinking executive diplomatic space. Another channel that deserves attention keeps growing while the first contracts. For several years now, Taipei has been one of Europe’s busiest legislative destinations. Where presidents and foreign ministers cannot land, parliamentarians do — and they do it in rising numbers. The Italian parliament opened the year with its largest bipartisan delegation to Taiwan to date: six Italian deputies and one senator, drawn from six
Recently, Taipei’s streets have been plagued by the bizarre sight of rats running rampant and the city government’s countermeasures have devolved into an anti-intellectual farce. The Taipei Parks and Street Lights Office has attempted to eradicate rats by filling their burrows with polyurethane foam, seeming to believe that rats could not simply dig another path out. Meanwhile, as the nation’s capital slowly deteriorates into a rat hive, the Taipei Department of Environmental Protection has proudly pointed to the increase in the number of poisoned rats reported in February and March as a sign of success. When confronted with public concerns over young
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