Montesquieu once noted that the full realization of a constitution demands that it is burned into the hearts and minds of every individual.
What a pity it is that due to certain historical factors of the political culture, Taiwan’s constitutional democracy bears all the markings of a representative democracy, and yet the path to its continued progress is plagued with obstacles. This is most recently evident from the blue and white camps’ aggressive pushing through of ill-thought out “reform” bills by dint of their slight legislative majority. In crisis comes opportunity, and we need only look to the Bluebird movement as an evolution of the Wild Lily and Sunflower movements.
First came the decentralization of power and ridding ourselves of personality cults, which, together with an overall healthy democracy, are important prerequisites.
Second, with the Bluebird movement taking flight across Taiwan, high-school students talk freely about the movement. There is a consensus that slogans on protest signs and placards such as “No discussion, No democracy” are core values of a democracy.
It is quite moving to witness this attitude of frank discussion of the matters at hand, but perhaps more encouraging is the constitutional tussle the executive and legislative branches are engaged in, providing lessons in constitutional law and democracy to the public.
Among other lessons, the centrality of constitutional knowledge, regardless of whether the result furthers one’s own agenda, and being concerned instead with the proper exercise of power and the importance of dialogue above and beyond overt confrontation or enmity, provides an excellent comparison with the arbitrary rule of China’s feudalistic despotism and of the casting down of anything the party does not agree with, and of the lack of any guarantees of freedom of expression to be found in that nation under that system.
Miles Yu (余茂春), senior fellow and director of the China Center at the Hudson Institute, has said that the Tiananmen Square protests that happened in China in 1989 are an unfinished revolution. Taiwan’s Bluebird movement, on the other hand, is developing opportunities to deepen Taiwanese democracy, evolving into a kind of “democracy, rule of law and human rights” 3.0, including the honing of a “constitutional consciousness,” as well as welding this consciousness into the hearts and minds of the public. Even more, it includes democratic discussions on the reliance on law and reason, and discussing matters as they actually are.
This would allow us to brush off vestiges of arbitrary rule of law, and get us to appreciate and cherish the democracy we have in Taiwan.
Lin Jui-hsia is director of Taoshan Salon and Humanity and Arts Institute in Chiayi City.
Translated by Tim Smith
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s
During the “426 rally” organized by the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party under the slogan “fight green communism, resist dictatorship,” leaders from the two opposition parties framed it as a battle against an allegedly authoritarian administration led by President William Lai (賴清德). While criticism of the government can be a healthy expression of a vibrant, pluralistic society, and protests are quite common in Taiwan, the discourse of the 426 rally nonetheless betrayed troubling signs of collective amnesia. Specifically, the KMT, which imposed 38 years of martial law in Taiwan from 1949 to 1987, has never fully faced its