A legislature is the most respected body to represent the public will of a nation, and lawmakers ought to serve as a voice for the public by fighting for its rights and interests, and protecting people’s welfare. Should executive powers stray from this path by making absurd and infeasible policies that are difficult to implement, the legislature would need to use supervisory powers and make revisions.
However, Taiwan’s legislature is a cacophony of bickering voices, often going off the deep end with its ridiculous demands and imposing roadblocks to governance. Lately, it has been threatening the Executive Yuan with cutting its entire budget if it does not implement the legislature’s demands. Such actions do not have the nation’s welfare in mind at all.
In countries with parliamentary democracy, the executive head is the one whose party holds the majority of seats in the legislature, unless the executive’s coalition dissolves. In presidential or semi-presidential systems, it is sometimes impossible to avoid opposing parties gaining control of different bodies of the government, which invariably leads to conflict.
Each time the US — a presidential system — faces a rejection of the national budget by an opposition-controlled US Congress, it often leads to brinkmanship with a possible government shutdown, with both sides of the aisle often averting disaster right at the 11th hour, and yet they always come out unscathed. In a semi-presidential system like France’s, the president has the constitutional power to dissolve the legislature and call for new parliamentary elections. When the premier and the legislature have disagreements and policies end up in gridlock, the legislature can propose a vote of no confidence and force the premier to resign. The president can then dissolve the legislature and hold legislative elections, relying on the public to decide the nation’s direction.
Taiwan’s system resembles a semi-presidential system. The Constitution states that the legislature has the power to propose a vote of no confidence against the premier with only one-third of the representatives in the legislature required to sign a petition for the motion to move to a formal vote. When the motion formally comes to the floor, more than half of the legislature is needed to vote in favor of the motion for it to pass. The premier would then need to resign and can at the same time request that the president dissolve the legislature and call for legislative elections.
Although these constitutional laws are not perfect, they embody the basic concept of holding and balancing power and legal responsibility. If the legislature is dissatisfied with the Executive Yuan, it could force a vote to get the premier to step down, but it would also have to bear the risk of public ire and scrutiny.
Premier Cho Jung-tai (卓榮泰) faces legislative gridlock.
Cho hoped to work through give-and-take motions to obtain the legislature’s cooperation or go to the Constitutional Court to request that it issue legal interpretations and arbitrate. If these options are not accepted, he might need to tell the legislature to pass a resolution to sack him from the office.
In other words, Cho’s willingness shows he is not seeking personal glory. He is willing to risk a vote of no confidence and removal from office in the interests of smooth operation of the constitutional system.
Do any lawmakers show such resolve to take on the political responsibility?
If they truly believe the Executive Yuan to be unfit to rule, then they should put forth a vote of no confidence and force Cho to step down. At the same time, Cho could dissolve the legislature and hold new elections, allowing the public to decide the country’s future. If a newly elected legislature were to remain in opposition hands, then the president and new premier would naturally have to follow the public will.
However, that is not what our legislature is doing. The key to all this could be found in Cho’s strength of character. Do opposition lawmakers possess his resolve to walk away from power, or are they only intent on fighting over coveted positions?
Tommy Lin is president of the Formosa Republican Association and the Taiwan United Nations Alliance.
Translated by Tim Smith
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,
When it became clear that the world was entering a new era with a radical change in the US’ global stance in US President Donald Trump’s second term, many in Taiwan were concerned about what this meant for the nation’s defense against China. Instability and disruption are dangerous. Chaos introduces unknowns. There was a sense that the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) might have a point with its tendency not to trust the US. The world order is certainly changing, but concerns about the implications for Taiwan of this disruption left many blind to how the same forces might also weaken
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
On today’s page, Masahiro Matsumura, a professor of international politics and national security at St Andrew’s University in Osaka, questions the viability and advisability of the government’s proposed “T-Dome” missile defense system. Matsumura writes that Taiwan’s military budget would be better allocated elsewhere, and cautions against the temptation to allow politics to trump strategic sense. What he does not do is question whether Taiwan needs to increase its defense capabilities. “Given the accelerating pace of Beijing’s military buildup and political coercion ... [Taiwan] cannot afford inaction,” he writes. A rational, robust debate over the specifics, not the scale or the necessity,
RSS