Ever since last year’s local elections, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) has come under attack for a series of issues: a thesis scandal, sexual harassment and extramarital affairs accusations. The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), which launched the attacks, also came under the same social scrutiny.
As the governing party, it is right that the DPP should be subject to stricter oversight than opposition parties. As a party whose ideal is to promote reform, it is natural for the public to set a higher standard for it. Now that the DPP has been in office for nearly eight years, it needs to set an even higher bar for itself if it wishes to stay in power.
In last year’s local elections, the DPP was supposed to have an edge because of its “home-field advantage.” Under President Tsai Ing-wen’s (蔡英文) leadership, Taiwan’s global image and prestige were boosted by a thriving economy, stable tech supply chains and its outstanding response to the COVID-19 pandemic.
Despite these accomplishments, former minister of health and welfare Chen Shih-chung (陳時中) lost to the KMT’s Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) in the Taipei mayoral race. It is true that Taipei has always been a KMT stronghold: Former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) could not help but lament that “the electorate’s indifference to a team fighting for reform is the symbol of a great city” when he failed to secure a second term as Taipei mayor in 1998. His remark conveyed an important message about the arbitrariness of the public will: The electorate often takes the incumbent party’s efforts and leadership for granted, and its favorable performance does not guarantee ballots.
Last year’s local election was a classic example. Several DPP mayors performed well during their tenure, but were prevented from passing on the DPP’s legacy to party candidates. In retrospect, the thesis scandal dealt a heavy blow to the DPP’s image more than to any other party, and cognitive warfare has become a new weapon of choice in political campaigns.
TRANSITION
The early 2000s proved to be a tumultuous period for Taiwanese politics. Even with Chen Shui-bian in the top office, the DPP’s failure to secure a legislative majority hindered policy and program implementation. Nonetheless, what sent the DPP to the pit was Chen Shui-bian’s money-laundering and corruption scandal. The Supreme Prosecutors’ Office solicited judicial assistance from Switzerland to freeze his family’s bank accounts when it began probing into allegations of corruption by the former president, following charges that he was taking bribes. Chen Shui-bian was embroiled in a series of corruption charges after he stepped down in 2008, dealing a mortal blow to the DPP’s image.
For some DPP supporters, the scandal was small potatoes compared with the KMT’s past crimes and autocracy. However, in the eyes of most of the electorate, the KMT’s past transgressions do not mean the DPP can be pardoned for such egregious behavior. As the DPP came to power on the back of its call for reform, it had to be punished for breaking its promise and failing people’s expectations. The disillusioned electorate then returned to the old-time party of the KMT, while some looked at a third party that would transcend the KMT and DPP, creating a political hotbed for the birth of a politician who would earn support for lambasting the two major parties.
The normalization of the transition of power was indicative of a surge of the electorate’s autonomy. As support ratings rise and drop like stocks, along with interference from external forces, election results for the past decade have shown that it is hard to predict which direction the voting pendulum would swing. The series of political tsunamis that took place in 2012 to 2014, 2016 to 2018, 2018 to 2020 and 2020 to last year, showed that the public is fickle and unpredictable. Under such political circumstances, the DPP’s presidential candidate, Vice President William Lai (賴清德), is in for a new kind of challenge: to break the eight-year jinx of the same party in office, to dispel anti-DPP sentiment simmering in the electorate and to beware that the DPP’s policies and accomplishments for the past years might not be the electorate’s only concern.
In 2018, various political crises almost upended Tsai’s political career. At the time, Lai resigned as premier and conceded defeat to Tsai in the party’s presidential primary, yet the rivalry between the two gave birth to Tsai 2.0.
FAULT FINDING
Last year, Tsai’s administration was facing headwinds again, with Lai in the hot seat this time. Even though the DPP’s eight-year governance has led to the increasing importance of Taiwan’s geopolitical position, people still found faults with the party.
A month ago, when the DPP was accused of pouring cold water on sexual harassment complaints, Lai introduced a “zero tolerance” policy, stating that if allegations were found to be true, perperators would be expelled and evidence handed over to judicial authorities. Lai’s decision to raise the bar might seem excessive compared with other parties’ lukewarm responses, but it has shown the DPP as a decisive party determined to address issues and problems through good crisis management skills.
For over two decades, eight years seems to be the limit of the electorate’s tolerance for the same party. To break the cap on his support ratings, Lai has to work on breaking fresh ground and introducing fresh insight, and not merely following in Tsai’s footsteps. Otherwise, it would only be fodder to the opposition parties’ manipulation of anti-DPP sentiment and appeals of “down with the DPP.” As a countermeasure, the DPP must be fully prepared to introduce new programs, and not just inherit the Tsai administration’s personnel, policies and factions.
Tsai used to have the young people’s support, but they have now moved to Taiwan People’s Party Chairman Ko Wen-je (柯文哲). The DPP might disapprove of Ko, but its priority is to win back young people’s favor and support. How to introduce reforms fueled by innovation into stability is the greatest challenge that awaits Lai and his party.
When it comes to gaining the upper hand in political rivalry, ideals and realism are always in conflict. Parties need to take a hardline stance on their core political values, but reconsider controversial issues unrelated to core values. The pension reform might have ruffled some feathers, but DPP supporters still backed it, while other reform policies have caused disagreement even within the party. Providing student subsidies for attending a private college or university and full tuition exemption for high schools and vocational schools have been welcome across the board.
Even Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) has voiced her support, urging it to become a long-term policy.
This is enough to see that the public will is a critical sign and that politicians should cater to that will. If a policy fails to garner support, then let it slide. The same-sex marriage policy might be a case in point.
The DPP is no longer only a party intent on ushering in reform, but a competitive one. To find the balance between the public will and the party’s core values and push for reform and actualize one’s vision by riding on the public’s support is a lesson that an innovative party seeking to embrace the people cannot afford to forget.
Translated by Rita Wang
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