Internet celebrity Holger Chen (陳之漢) might call himself a peace ambassador, but really, he is just a clown in someone else’s circus. A loud one. The kind that hurls vulgarities when cornered and marvels at vending machines like he has just discovered fire.
During his recent trip to China, Chen bent over backward to praise whatever happened to cross his line of sight — vending machines, food delivery robots, roadside trees, rubbish bins and toilets. If someone had spat at him, he would probably praise the robust lung power of Chinese.
Boiled down, his trip was not about diplomacy, it was salesmanship. He was there to sell China to the Taiwanese audience.
However, let us pause a moment: What exactly was he selling?
Restrooms with doors? Sidewalk trees? Faster food delivery? Smart rubbish bins? Cheaper food? Who cares about things Taiwan already has — some better, some worse, but all familiar.
Chen is like someone trying to sell sand in the desert, failing to realize that his product is not rare, nor is it wanted. The only thing colder than his sales pitch was the public’s reception.
Because here is the truth: Taiwanese do not resist China because its buildings are low or its trains are slow.
So clowns such as Chen gain nothing by correcting a few outdated perceptions.
What Taiwanese resist is not infrastructure — it is authoritarianism.
They resist, because they cherish something far more precious — and far rarer — under the Chinese Communist Party: freedom.
Try selling us this, Holger: freedom of speech without the risk of disappearing; rule of law without interference from the ruling party; the right to elect our leaders and to criticize them when they fail; a press that asks questions instead of parroting slogans; world-class, affordable healthcare; a high standard of living; and the freedom to leave the country without needing a special permit.
These are the things that matter — not fast trains, not cashless payments and certainly not public toilets with doors.
Those are the shades people in the desert might actually buy.
However, Beijing has none to offer. So, instead, they send clowns with tattoos and livestreams, hoping that volume can substitute for value.
Of course, Chen’s admirers in China were entertained. So were his critics.
Most saw through the performance: a man who could not even admit he was from Taiwan when asked, who could not stay polite when questioned, who could not survive without the very freedoms he pretends to belittle.
He sells admiration. He sells awe.
What he does not sell is conviction.
Even the worst salesmen know that the product has to work.
No matter how many livestreams he wraps it in, authoritarianism does not sell in Taiwan.
Do not try to sell dictatorship to a democracy that already knows exactly what it is worth.
If Beijing is serious about selling China to Taiwanese, it needs to stop outsourcing the pitch to “united front” clowns. Taiwanese are tired of them — if not revolted by them. Do not send influencers. Send reform. Start with the product itself: stop the military threats, democratize the political system, lengthen the leash on human rights and let people speak freely. Then maybe, just maybe, the product might start to sell on its own.
John Cheng is a retired businessman from Hong Kong now residing in Taiwan.
Many local news media over the past week have reported on Internet personality Holger Chen’s (陳之漢) first visit to China between Tuesday last week and yesterday, as remarks he made during a live stream have sparked wide discussions and strong criticism across the Taiwan Strait. Chen, better known as Kuan Chang (館長), is a former gang member turned fitness celebrity and businessman. He is known for his live streams, which are full of foul-mouthed and hypermasculine commentary. He had previously spoken out against the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and criticized Taiwanese who “enjoy the freedom in Taiwan, but want China’s money”
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