President William Lai (賴清德) has rightly identified the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) as a hostile force; and yet, Taiwan’s response to domestic figures amplifying CCP propaganda remains largely insufficient.
The Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) recently confirmed that more than 20 Taiwanese entertainers, including high-profile figures such as Ouyang Nana (歐陽娜娜), are under investigation for reposting comments and images supporting People’s Liberation Army (PLA) drills and parroting Beijing’s unification messaging. If found in contravention of the law, they may be fined between NT$100,000 and NT$500,000.
That is not a deterrent. It is a symbolic tax on betrayal — perhaps even a way for some to clear their conscience.
For celebrities with massive platforms and multimillion-dollar careers in China, these fines are a small price to pay for continued access to the Chinese market. Worse, the paltry fines send a dangerous message: that even under daily military threat, Taiwan lacks the political will and legal tools to confront soft-power collaborators within its own society.
Let us be clear: Taiwanese entertainers are not private citizens quietly expressing opinions at the dinner table. They are narrative shapers, public figures with enormous influence. When they lend their voice — knowingly or not — to Beijing’s messaging, they participate in psychological warfare. They normalize “one China” ideology. They help legitimize the military threat aimed at their own country.
The damage is twofold. First, it undermines Taiwan’s collective morale — chipping away at the democratic confidence of a people constantly told their resistance is futile. Second, and more dangerously, it emboldens Chinese nationalism. When influential Taiwanese voices echo CCP propaganda, it fuels the illusion within China that “Taiwanese want unification; only the Democratic Progressive Party stands in the way.” This misreading legitimizes aggression, distorts global perception and makes war more thinkable.
To make matters worse, these unification-themed reposts almost always appear on symbolic dates — Lunar New Year, China’s National Day — when a choreographed flood of Weibo content from Taiwanese celebrities creates the illusion of national consensus. While Chinese audiences cheer, Taiwanese seethe.
On Taiwan’s own National Day — Oct. 10 — almost no Taiwanese entertainer, not even those no longer active in China, publicly celebrates their own country. The silence is deafening; and for many, it feels like betrayal — not just of national identity, but of basic dignity.
Some argue that these stars are acting under pressure, and that if they do not publicly toe the CCP line, China’s nationalists would unleash online mobs or call for boycotts. If they resist further, they risk being blacklisted. However, fear is not a license to endorse military intimidation of your homeland.
At what point do personal gains cease to justify moral collapse? When will someone in the industry finally say no? Better yet — what if they all did? If rejecting Beijing’s political demands truly makes someone persona non grata, then walk away. These figures are not struggling — they are rich, famous and adored. Yes, the China market is vast, but there are other stages in the world. Smaller, perhaps, but freer. And if you cannot give that up — if profit outweighs principle — then give up your Taiwanese passport.
Because this is no longer about free speech. It is about national security. What begins as a casual repost can become a propaganda victory — an implicit validation of military invasion. This is not expressing yourself. It is complicity. When high-profile figures endorse China’s unification narrative — when they like, share or repost images of Taiwan’s invasion — they are committing treason.
Taiwan’s approach — quiet investigations and token fines — might be designed to avoid backlash or accusations of censorship. However, if it has any effect at all, it is counterproductive. To the offenders, it is little more than a speeding ticket. To most Taiwanese, it falls far short of what a real penalty — and real deterrence — should look like. Taiwan can — and must — do better.
First, it should scale penalties to influence. Flat fines are meaningless for public figures with massive reach. Tie penalties to audience size and visibility. Influence brings responsibility; the law should reflect that.
Second, the government should enact a foreign influence disclosure law. Like the US Foreign Agents Registration Act, it should require public figures to disclose financial or political relationships with foreign governments or CCP-linked entities.
Third, it should set up a blacklist from state cultural resources. Artists who promote hostile propaganda should be ineligible for taxpayer-funded awards, grants or platforms. Censorship is not necessary, but state sponsorship is not unconditional.
Fourth, it should reform legal tools for hybrid threats. It could update the Act Governing Relations Between the People of the Taiwan Area and the Mainland Area (臺灣地區與大陸地區人民關係條例) to cover non-military influence operations, especially during coordinated military escalations. It should also establish a cultural security task force, consisting of a joint team of officials from the Ministry of Culture, the MAC and national security agencies that would monitor soft-power threats and coordinate public responses.
Finally, it should invest in pro-Taiwan voices. Defense is not just about punishment. It is also about support. Highlight and uplift local artists and influencers who stand for Taiwan’s democracy — not out of nationalism, but solidarity.
Taiwan’s sovereignty will not disappear in a single act. It erodes slowly — through silence, appeasement and indifference. A free society does not mean tolerating propaganda from hostile regimes. It means having the clarity — and courage — to defend freedom from within.
John Cheng is a retired businessman from Hong Kong currently residing in Taiwan.
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