In nature, there is a group of insects known as parasitoid wasps. Their reproductive process differs entirely from that of ordinary wasps — the female lays her eggs inside or on the bodies of other insects, and, once hatched, the larvae feed on the host’s body.
The larvae do not kill the host insect immediately; instead, they carefully avoid vital organs, allowing the host to stay alive until the larvae are fully mature. That living reservoir strategy ensures a stable and fresh source of nutrients for the larvae as they grow.
However, the host’s death becomes only a matter of time.
The resemblance between that parasitic strategy and relations between Taiwan and China share a striking resemblance. The Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) infiltration and control of Taiwan is a silent parasitic operation.
There is no need to open fire; through information, public opinion, cultural and economic warfare, Beijing has tacitly implanted larvae into Taiwanese society.
These metaphorical larvae take the form of media mouthpieces, political proxies, Internet influencers or even seemingly harmless consumer platforms. Whether it is TikTok, Xiaohongshu (known in English as RedNote), key opinion leaders or Internet memes, the CCP is using a systematic approach to reshape the core values of younger Taiwanese.
Media reports have said that Taiwanese aged 20 to 24 are no longer “naturally independent” — a phrase coined by former Democratic Progressive Party chairperson and veteran activist Lin I-hsiung (林義雄) in his 2014 book The Natural Independence of the Younger Generation (年輕世代的自然獨). Lin used the term to describe how, unlike earlier generations of Taiwanese who struggled against Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) indoctrination, modern Taiwanese have grown up in a society where independence was already a mainstream ideal.
However, that foundation has been eroded by more than a decade of CCP cognitive warfare. Yet after more than eight years of Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) rule, has it ever truly been taken seriously? Has there been any significant effort to push back — or is Taiwan paying the price for years of passivity?
The chaos in the Legislative Yuan, the crushing defeat of the recall vote on July 26, the political accountability in the legislature — all of it, alongside the CCP’s escalated intellectual and cognitive warfare, are the result of this parasitic project.
Now, BYD Co’s plan to enter the Taiwan market via transshipment is gaining momentum, turning it into the CCP’s Trojan Horse.
Under the guise of economic priority, circumventing regulatory oversight to import goods is slowly corroding the defenses of Taiwan’s market. Is this not the very process of the larvae burrowing into the host’s body? Why would they even bother with employing external force?
It is not just economic infiltration, but a reshaping of Taiwanese cognition and a softening of willpower. The “enemy is in Honno-ji Temple,” as the saying goes. Taiwan’s society, schools, institutions, military, police, civil servants and even ministries all seem to remain indifferent in a Daliesque daze.
Akin to the famous 1977 Taiwanese romance novel Misty Moons, Misty Birds (月朦朧,鳥朦朧), in which the protagonist becomes enamored with the illusion of an unattainable love, Taiwanese today seem caught in a similar haze of self-disillusionment.
On Saturday, the second wave of recall votes and a referendum on extending the operations of Pingtung County’s Ma-anshan Nuclear Power Plant are to be held. The recall elections would not only be a decisive assessment of the ruling party, but also a major chance for Taiwanese to declare the direction of the country, uphold democratic values and ensure national safety in the years ahead.
Should Taiwan once again fail to breach the lines of defense, the DPP could face a complete unraveling in the next local elections — and the nation would edge ever closer to a future completely defined, or consumed, by parasitism.
Parasitoid wasps never make a fuss; rather, they stealthily devour the host from within, and if Taiwanese linger in this deep sleep, they might awaken only to find the grim reality that their insides have already been hollowed out, bringing about a quiet, inevitable demise.
History repeatedly warns that every crisis and downfall faced by Taiwan was never attributed to the strength of the enemy, but because of internal wavering, resignation and embracing them.
Today, standing toe-to-toe with a China more adept at subterfuge, propaganda and cross-domain influence warfare, if Taiwan continues to deceive itself with illusions of tranquility, it would once again repeat the tragedy of history.
We cannot wait for the enemy to knock on the gates — because they are already inside the temple.
Jane Ywe-hwan is an associate professor at National Pingtung University.
Translated by Lenna Veronica Suminski
Taiwanese pragmatism has long been praised when it comes to addressing Chinese attempts to erase Taiwan from the international stage. “Taipei” and the even more inaccurate and degrading “Chinese Taipei,” imposed titles required to participate in international events, are loathed by Taiwanese. That is why there was huge applause in Taiwan when Japanese public broadcaster NHK referred to the Taiwanese Olympic team as “Taiwan,” instead of “Chinese Taipei” during the opening ceremony of the Tokyo Olympics. What is standard protocol for most nations — calling a national team by the name their country is commonly known by — is impossible for
India is not China, and many of its residents fear it never will be. It is hard to imagine a future in which the subcontinent’s manufacturing dominates the world, its foreign investment shapes nations’ destinies, and the challenge of its economic system forces the West to reshape its own policies and principles. However, that is, apparently, what the US administration fears. Speaking in New Delhi last week, US Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau warned that “we will not make the same mistakes with India that we did with China 20 years ago.” Although he claimed the recently agreed framework
The Office of the US Trade Representative (USTR) on Wednesday last week announced it is launching investigations into 16 US trading partners, including Taiwan, under Section 301 of the Trade Act of 1974 to determine whether they have engaged in unfair trade practices, such as overproduction. A day later, the agency announced a separate Section 301 investigation into 60 economies based on the implementation of measures to prohibit the importation of goods produced with forced labor. Several of Taiwan’s main trading rivals — including China, Japan, South Korea and the EU — also made the US’ investigation list. The announcements come
Taiwan is not invited to the table. It never has been, but this year, with the Philippines holding the ASEAN chair, the question that matters is no longer who gets formally named, it is who becomes structurally indispensable. The “one China” formula continues to do its job. It sets the outer boundary of official diplomatic speech, and no one in the region has a serious interest in openly challenging it. However, beneath the surface, something is thickening. Trade corridors, digital infrastructure, artificial intelligence (AI) cooperation, supply chains, cross-border investment: The connective tissue between Taiwan and ASEAN is quietly and methodically growing