Vice President Hsiao Bi-khim (蕭美琴) was recently invited to deliver an address at the Inter-Parliamentary Alliance on China’s (IPAC) annual summit, in the European Parliament building in Brussels.
On the world stage, the moment was hailed as a breakthrough. The Guardian and Reuters framed it as a rare opportunity for a top Taiwanese official to publicly defend its democracy and call for global support. Meanwhile, as predictable as clockwork, Hsiao’s visit drew China’s ire.
Beijing condemned IPAC as “merely a clique of anti-China elements” and accused the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) government of colluding to stage “a farce.” This is a familiar dance: Taiwan reaches out; China pushes back.
What is alarming is the cynicism of Taiwan’s opposition parties, as well as the more subtle, pervasive reaction from citizens who might be disillusioned with the “status quo.”
Taiwan People’s Party Chairman Huang Kuo-chang (黃國昌) offered an odd interpretation, saying it was not easy for Hsiao to “rent the venue” and that “we do not want to criticize her too harshly.”
The lukewarm praise communicated a misrepresentation of the nature of Hsiao’s presence in Brussels.
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) has also been criticized by the DPP for minimizing the significance of the trip.
DPP spokeswoman Han Ying (韓瑩) accused the KMT of undermining Taiwan’s international standing by refusing to join IPAC and by “moving to embrace China.”
At the same time, rumors circulated online.
Some said the speech was “bought” or that it was arranged solely for optics, despite Hsiao publicly refuting such misinformation and international media widely reporting the significance of her trip.
For the vitality of Taiwan’s democracy, such reactions are more toxic than just sour grapes. Indeed, this discourse is what sociologists Anne Taylor and Jeff Alexander describe as “active performances of de-fusion.”
In other words, comments and speculations that twisted the facts about Hsiao’s speech at IPAC did not debate the impacts of her diplomatic effort, or even to express apathy toward the achievements of an unfavored politician. Instead, they become part of a social performance to actively demonize the other side — in this case, the ruling party and its diplomatic initiatives — while seeming within the bounds of “free speech.”
This civic cynicism is especially hazardous for Taiwan. As the nation faces serious external challenges — needing to withstand increasing military, cyber and diplomatic pressure from China while struggling to garner international recognition — it is profoundly dangerous when the impulse to demonize political opponents becomes stronger than recognizing a shared destiny.
Instead of facilitating discussions about Taiwan’s challenges and puzzling through the best way forward, the performances of de-fusion propel the spread of collective detachment. The inclination to delegitimize the government promotes an “emotional high” in being right about the government’s failures.
It insidiously erodes the fabric of our civic culture, replacing discussions such as “I do not think this is a good policy” with “this diplomatic effort is fake,” “this outreach is useless,” “this party is only for show” or “this move is foolish.”
It mistakenly equates cynicism with an intellectually superior, morally righteous gesture, encouraging citizens to criticize without engaging and to embrace feeling wronged by “them” rather than expanding the bond of “us.”
So what can be done?
The emotional resonance that is cynicism is rarely disrupted by fact-checking and rational debates. However, the social drama of hope could be a strong antidote.
Stories such as “IPAC vows to combat China’s moves” (Nov. 12, page 1) are part of such a larger social drama of hope: Taiwan stepping into a role beyond its borders and asserting its stake in the international democratic order.
Elected officials, opposition leaders and citizens choosing to take part in these actions and share such stories might not change the minds of all. However, slowly but surely, we would reach those who want to find hope about Taiwan’s future, but do not know how.
As I pen this piece while preparing for an academic talk entitled “Can Taiwan’s Democracy be Saved?” I ask myself: “Can it?”
The answer, in part, lies in Taiwanese cultivating what Stanford University psychologist Jamil Zaki called “hopes for cynics”: a healthy suspicion of the naysayers and a willingness to participate in creating positive change.
Lo Ming-cheng is a professor of sociology at the University of California, Davis whose research addresses civil society, political cultures and medical sociology.
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