Taiwanese Identity and Democracy: The Social Psychology of Taiwan's 2004 Elections

TAIWANESE IDENTITY AND DEMOCRACY THE SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY OF TAIWAN’S 2004 ELECTIONS Olwen Bedford and Kwang-Kuo Hwang T...

Author: Olwen Bedford | Hwang Kwang-kuo

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TAIWANESE IDENTITY AND DEMOCRACY THE SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY OF TAIWAN’S 2004 ELECTIONS

Olwen Bedford and Kwang-Kuo Hwang

T aiwanese Identity and Democracy : T he Social Psychology of T aiwan ’s 2004 Elections

Olwen Bedford and Kwang-Kuo Hwang

TAIWANESE IDENTITY AND DEMOCRACY

© Olwen Bedford and Kwang-Kuo Hwang, 2006. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. First published in 2006 by PALGRAVE MACMILLAN™ 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010 and Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire, England RG21 6XS Companies and representatives throughout the world. PALGRAVE MACMILLAN is the global academic imprint of the Palgrave Macmillan division of St. Martin’s Press, LLC and of Palgrave Macmillan Ltd. Macmillan® is a registered trademark in the United States, United Kingdom and other countries. Palgrave is a registered trademark in the European Union and other countries. ISBN-13: 978–1–4039–7433–4 ISBN-10: 1–4039–7433–0 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Bedford, Olwen. Taiwanese identity and democracy : the social psychology of Taiwan’s 2004 elections / Olwen Bedford, Kwang-Kuo Hwang. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 1–4039–7433–0 1. Elections—Taiwan. 2. Democracy—Taiwan. 3. Nationalism—Taiwan. 4. Taiwan—Politics and government—2000– I. Hwang, Kwang-Kuo. II. Title. JQ1538.B43 2006 324.9524⬘905—dc22

2006041576

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Design by Newgen Imaging Systems (P) Ltd., Chennai, India. First edition: September 2006 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Printed in the United States of America.

Contents

Acknowledgments 1. Identity, Democracy, Populism, and Nationalism

iv

1

2. Taiwanese Consciousness and the Referendum Law

15

3. The Referendum and Taiwan’s International Relations

29

4. The Defensive Referendum

43

5. The Referendum Debates

61

6. Expanding Taiwanese Consciousness

83

7. Negative Campaigning

105

8. Protests and Conflict

119

9. Identity and Culture

145

10. The Law and Justice

163

11. Faith Unites, Reason Divides

183

12. Let One-Hundred Flowers Bloom

199

Appendix 1

203

Appendix 2

205

Notes

207

Past Publications

227

Index

231

Acknowledgments

We would like to acknowledge the following people for their support, helpful comments, and suggestions in preparing this work: Chen Wei-wu, Jacques van Wersch, Anna Bedford, and Jerry Bedford.

C hapter 1

I dentity, Democracy, P opulism, and N ationalism

He who considers wealth a good thing can never bear to give up his income; he who considers eminence a good thing can never bear to give up his fame. He who has a taste for power can never bear to hand over authority to others. Holding tight to these things, such men shiver with fear; should they let them go, they would pine in sorrow. They never stop for a moment of reflection, never cease to gaze with greedy eyes— they are men punished by Heaven. Zhuangzi

On March 19, 2004, Taiwan’s incumbent president Chen Shui-bian

was shot while campaigning near his hometown in Southern Taiwan. The next day he became the victor in one of the most closely contested presidential elections in democratic history, winning by a margin of less than a quarter percent. That the losing presidential and vice-presidential candidates called for a recount was no surprise. However, it was surprising that the losing candidates labeled the result of the election the “death of democracy” and accused the president of being complicit in a shooting that won him enough sympathy votes to change the result of the election. They also filed a lawsuit to overturn the results, and organized a series of mass protest rallies, at which there were calls for revolution and at which the losers were declared the new president and vice president. International observers praised this very same election as a milestone in Taiwan’s democracy and a model of transparency. They congratulated Chen Shui-bian for making democracy work in Taiwan despite mountainous challenges, and honored him only a few months prior to the election with the prestigious 35th International Human Rights Award for his long-term efforts in Taiwan’s democracy movement.

2

T aiwanese I dentity and D emocracy

What many in the West appraise as democratic progress, many in Taiwan proclaim is dangerous backsliding and the rise of a dictator in the return of Chen Shui-bian to the presidency. How could two such different pictures of the political situation in Taiwan arise? What is the state of Taiwan’s democracy? The answers to these questions have international significance inasmuch as Taiwan’s 23-million citizens are the target of the single largest military deployment in the world and China continues to ramp up its military budget in an effort to discourage Taiwan from declaring independence. China even passed “anti-secession” legislation requiring military action should Taiwan “break away.” This situation has led to a rising tension between the United States and China and the possibility of a Sino-U.S. war as the United States is bound by a domestic law, the Taiwan Relations Act, to defend Taiwan. Given the very real possibility of military conflict, Taiwan’s democratic development and political intentions are of great relevance to the international community. Furthermore, there is much to be learned from Taiwan as a case study in how the values and institutions of democracy fit into a Confucian cultural context and stand as an example to other newly developing democracies. The goal of this book is to shed light on Taiwan’s 2004 political arena with an emphasis on the losing parties from the perspective of Taiwanese people, a perspective rarely heard and little understood by the international community. It provides many of the details that foreign observers miss, but that are part of the field of consideration for Taiwanese. Of particular importance is the issue of national identity and its relation to Taiwanese consciousness, a topic of growing interest in recent years. This book draws on informal discussions with academics, politicians, bureaucrats, and Taiwanese citizens, and the authors’ direct experience in many of the events described. In addition, it draws on information from Taiwanese TV news and political talk shows and newspapers to examine the values, issues, ideology, and personalities involved in the 2004 presidential election in their historical context from the perspective of sociocultural psychology. Sources for quotations have been provided from Englishlanguage media in Taiwan when possible. Except for proper names, which are spelled according to the romanization used in Taiwan (often but not always Wade-Giles), pinyin is used to romanize the Chinese terms used in this book as most people who have studied Mandarin are familiar with it. We have aimed for a balanced presentation of facts and local interpretations so that readers may draw their own conclusions.

D emocracy, P opulism, and N ationalism

3

Identity Barbarian territory with nothing but savages, rebels, pirates, and merchants—that is what Imperial China thought of Taiwan and its residents for most of Taiwan’s history. Immigration to Taiwan was forbidden for most of that time, and there were few Chinese settlers in Taiwan until Ming Dynasty (1368–1644) rulers lifted maritime restrictions in the late 1500s and economic and political refugees began to move there in search of a better life and the chance to be their own masters.1 As settlers arrived they began to intermarry and fight battles with the first inhabitants of the island, the various groups of aborigines who migrated to Taiwan as much as six- to fifteen-thousand years ago and who share ethnicity with people of the South Pacific and Austronesia. With the agreement of Ming government officials, the Dutch East India Company established a settlement in southern Taiwan in 1624 as a base for trade with China and Japan and soon governed much of the island. The Dutch built infrastructure, increased trade and agriculture, and encouraged immigration. They maintained control by playing different groups against one another. For example, the Dutch crushed a revolt by a group of Chinese immigrants with the help of 2,000 aborigines.2 When the Qing overthrew the Ming Dynasty in 1644, Zheng Cheng-gong (a.k.a. Koxinga), a determined military leader who had fought in support of the Ming, retreated to Taiwan, where he overthrew the Dutch and established his own autonomous Ming-style government. Concerned about continued rebellion, the Qing took control of Taiwan in 1683. However, they were unsure what to do with it. They considered shipping the Chinese inhabitants back to China. They asked the Dutch whether they wanted to buy Taiwan back.3 To reduce the chance of further rebellion, the Qing incorporated Taiwan as a prefecture the province of Fujian, which lies directly across the Taiwan Strait, but for most of that time they claimed responsibility for only part of Taiwan and could maintain neither effective governance nor control. For example, when the United States, Japan, and France looked to the Qing emperor for reparations after their ships were attacked by Taiwan-based pirates, the Qing emperor responded that those parts of Taiwan were not under Qing control and therefore the attacks were not its responsibility.4 The Qing also pitted local groups against one another in its attempt to maintain control, but real power lay with powerful local landlord families, which maintained their own private militias. For the next 200 years Taiwan was full of conflicts among rival clans and ethnic groups. It was the home base for many pirates and bandits.

4


Qing officials were described as corrupt, inefficient, and brutal, leading to numerous insurrections. “Every three years an uprising, every five years a rebellion” was a common saying about Taiwan.5 To stave off foreign attempts to acquire Taiwan (U.S., British, French, Japanese, and Prussian governments all considered it6), in 1885 the Qing declared Taiwan a province in its own right. Ten years later China permanently ceded Taiwan to Japan as part of the settlement in its loss to Japan in the Sino-Japanese War. The people of Taiwan resisted being given away to the Japanese. They tried to persuade the British to take over administration of the island. They declared themselves an independent Republic of Taiwan, established a national flag, and named a president.7 The Japanese did not waver. They quickly took over the island, although pockets of guerilla resistance and uprisings from people of all strata of society, from farmers to elite, continued for the next twenty years. The Japanese substantially modernized and expanded Taiwan’s infrastructure, constructing roads, railroads, hospitals, harbors, and sewage and power facilities, and improving agricultural production. They also invested in Taiwan’s human capital by guaranteeing property rights, providing public education, and protecting public health. By the 1920s average citizens of Taiwan were better off than their counterparts in China.8 From 1918, assimilation was increasingly emphasized through Japanese education, and after 1937, marriage between Taiwanese and Japanese was legalized, Chinese cultural practices were supplanted with Japanese ones, and Chinese-language publications and broadcasts were banned.9 Japanese became the lingua franca for Taiwan’s educated populace. By 1944, 71 percent of Taiwan’s population spoke Japanese.10 Japan’s colonization of Taiwan ended in 1945 with Japan’s surrender after the Second World War. The Republic of China took over administration of the island. In 1949, China’s entire Nationalist (Kuomintang, KMT) government along with supporters and the remnants of its armies fled to Taiwan to escape Mao Tse-tung’s Communist army, an incident reminiscent of Zheng Cheng-gong’s flight from the Qing over 300 years earlier. Given this varied history of colonization and relations with China, it is not surprising that, although nearly 98 percent of the current residents of Taiwan trace their ancestry back to China, they do not necessarily define themselves as Chinese. Eighty-five percent of Taiwan’s current residents have ancestors who emigrated from China three- to four-hundred years ago (hereafter referred to as native Taiwanese). The remaining 13 percent of nonindigenous residents arrived in Taiwan or are descended from those who arrived in Taiwan


5

between 1945, when Japan ended its colonization, and 1949 when Chiang Kai-shek and his armies and followers arrived.11 In Taiwan, this group and their descendants are referred to as waisheng, from outside the province (of Taiwan). Residents of Taiwan are generally clear as to who among them are native Taiwanese and who are waisheng Taiwanese. Although this distinction is of little importance in the normal daily lives of most people, with every election these differences are highlighted as politicians try to emphasize their Taiwaneseness in their effort to appeal to the majority of the electorate. Some native Taiwanese politicians try to paint waisheng politicians as Communist sympathizers willing to sell out Taiwan to China. Waisheng politicians retort with accusations that their counterparts are stirring up ethnic conflict. In truth, there is little ethnic difference between the two groups. There are some socioeconomic differences, which are occasionally played up by politicians, such as when one legislator compared the “barefoot” (native Taiwanese) newly sworn-in Minister of the Interior to the “leather-shoed” (waisheng) Taipei City Mayor.12 Wealth and education lie predominantly with the waisheng population. But socioeconomic disparity is generally not the point of contrast between the two groups. When politicians invoke ethnic differences, what they are usually talking about in reality is national identity—is Taiwan a part of China? Or is Taiwan a sovereign nation? These questions are related to but not identical with the so-called ethnic divide. Questions of the identity of Taiwan’s people and that of the nation are often muddled together, raising the emotional intensity of debate on both sides. The topic of national identity has grown in importance in recent years, and many have argued that it was the key issue of the 2004 presidential election. Part of the reason it has gained prominence is that the balance of military power across the Taiwan Strait, which has been tilted to Taiwan, is likely to shift toward China sometime in the next few years. What will happen when it does is a question on everyone’s mind. The very real threat of the ever increasing number of China’s ballistic missiles has led the residents of Taiwan to consider their future with a degree of concern that has influenced the course of Taiwan’s democratic development.

Democratic Development After 50 years under Japanese colonial rule, many native Taiwanese welcomed the KMT as liberators when they first arrived. However,

6


locals quickly became disillusioned as they realized that just as they had been mostly unable to participate in their own governance under the Japanese, there was even less room for their participation in the KMT government. Political and military leaders from China essentially substituted themselves for the colonial Japanese rulers, plus they pushed out the Taiwanese bureaucrats who had worked in the Japanese administration. Many of the new arrivals did not regard the Taiwanese as compatriots, but rather as “semiferal” Chinese to be treated with suspicion as Japanese collaborators, especially the Taiwanese elite who had prospered under Japanese rule.13 The KMT declared Taiwan to be the temporary base of the Republic of China (ROC) and made plans to retake the mainland. They maintained a governmental system in Taiwan with legislators representing each mainland province. In the name of this campaign, they imposed martial law and banned demonstrations, strikes, and political parties. They displaced as many as 36,000 Taiwanese from public-sector jobs.14 Taiwanese recognized that the Japanese had advanced Taiwan’s economy, politics, and society beyond that of the mainland—per capita income, economic infrastructure, public health, educational attainment, all were better in Taiwan than in China.15 This perception was reinforced by the behavior of Chinese soldiers and police, who were not well paid and so made a living “by scrounging and plundering among the local civilian community following the pattern of Chiang’s armies on the mainland.”16 The KMT dismantled Taiwanese infrastructure including telephone wires, pipes, metal roofing, fire hydrants, and railroad switches and shipped everything back to the mainland to support efforts there, asserting that Taiwan’s citizens owed a debt to the KMT for liberating them from the Japanese.17 They took control of major industries, granted monopolies to cronies, and confiscated property. Crime rates rose, disease was rampant, agricultural production dropped, inflation loomed. Many Taiwanese came to feel that although the Japanese had been brutal, they at least had maintained a modern, clean, and orderly society. In contrast, the KMT seemed little interested in responsible governance and more interested in “satisfying their five cravings: plenty of gold, luxurious automobiles, government rank, fine homes, and beautiful women.”18 A common saying among Taiwanese was that the dogs (who could at least protect your property) had been chased away, but the pigs (who only make a mess) had come. After early brutal crackdowns turned many locals against them, the KMT adopted a more flexible attitude toward democracy. In the


7

late 1950s they allowed limited local elections to help establish a basis for popular legitimacy and found that they could manipulate elections as a way to block opposition rather than relying solely on more oppressive tactics. American support, aimed at ensuring that Taiwan had adequate defense against Communist China to stem a possible domino effect in the Asia Pacific region, funded the KMT military and gave a measure of legitimacy to KMT rule. It also helped reverse the hyperinflation of the early 1950s, and provided a foundation for economic growth. Taiwan’s output grew at an average of over 8.5 percent per year from the mid-1950s to the mid-1980s, and the per capita GNP rose from under US$150 in 1950 to US$14,032 in 2004,19 earning Taiwan a place among the four newly industrialized tigers of East Asia alongside Hong Kong, Singapore, and South Korea. With Taiwan’s economic development came the emergence of a middle class and the rise of a new class of native Taiwanese elite. In the early 1970s, the U.S. administration under Richard Nixon began to alter its Asia policy and prepared to improve relations with China as a way of containing the Soviet Union. The KMT government was ejected from the United Nations. Japan and many other countries that had been friendly with the KMT began to cut off official diplomatic relations, casting doubt on the KMT’s claim to be the sole legitimate government of all of China, and giving many in Taiwan a sense of impending crisis. In order to maintain the legitimacy of its power, the KMT government had to seek more support within Taiwan, and so began to recruit native Taiwanese into the KMT and appoint young Taiwanese to low-ranking positions within the military and bureaucracy and even in the party. However, the targets of this Taiwanization policy were the social elite, and not society at large; the political system was not yet evolving toward democracy. Furthermore, the policy did not address the widespread resentment of cultural and linguistic suppression (the language of education was Mandarin, and students were punished for speaking Taiwanese) and economic exploitation experienced at a grassroots level. This sort of reform could not even provide enough posts for all the native Taiwanese elite who wanted to participate. Many native Taiwanese originally recruited by the KMT eventually joined the incipient opposition movement because their opportunities for advancement politically and even economically within the KMT were still limited. In the late 1970s an anti-KMT demonstration during provincial city and county elections turned into a riot as thousands of Taiwanese

8


attacked the police. After this incident, although an organized opposition was still not allowed, independents began networking and proposing an end to martial law. In the summer of 1979, opposition leaders established the Formosa Magazine Association to oppose the KMT power monopoly. Though a magazine in name, it took the form of a party, establishing a number of offices around Taiwan and holding public rallies. The KMT saw it as dangerous and harassed the magazine’s offices and those involved in attempts to disrupt its operation. Opposition leaders decided to hold a public rally to counter KMT suppression on December 10, 1979, World Human Rights Day. That day, now known as the Kaohsiung Incident (or the Formosa Incident), became a turning point in Taiwan’s democracy. Police, military police, and heavily armed special forces encircled the crowd and used tear gas; violence ensued. News coverage of the event was suppressed. It is widely believed that pro-government provocateurs incited the violence, and that the KMT planned the whole scenario well ahead of time. Three days later, most opposition leaders were arrested, even some who had not attended the rally. They were held for several months, tortured for confessions, tried, and convicted, some in military courts. The mother and twin seven-year-old daughters of one of the accused activists were murdered in his home while he was being held for trial. The KMT again found themselves at a crossroads. Social movements were multiplying—there were now protests against pollution and nuclear power, as well as calls for an end to human-rights abuses and increased political representation. On top of the internal unrest, foreign relations were also unsettled. Earlier that year the United States had broken off official diplomatic relations with Taiwan, raising concerns of a takeover by China. Continuing the crackdown against its growing opposition might have cost the KMT their remaining U.S. support and subjected them to international condemnation. The KMT decided the best course of action would be to gradually liberalize its system from above. Toward this end, a native Taiwanese, Lee Teng-hui, was selected as vice president in 1984. In September 1986, the first opposition party, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), was formally established. The DPP included a Taiwanese independence clause in its party charter: “Taiwan’s future should be decided by the people of Taiwan.” This platform was popular among many native Taiwanese and helped increase the DPP’s representation in the central government. Martial law was formally lifted in July 1987. When President Chiang Ching-kuo suddenly died in January 1988, Lee Teng-hui succeeded him as president. Lee continued to


9

push to localize the KMT and democratize the political system with a number of institutional and constitutional reforms. He granted the Formosans amnesty. In May 1991, Lee eliminated the Temporary Articles enacted in 1949 that had suspended the democratic functions of the government. In December 1991, members of the legislature who had been elected in 1947 to represent constituencies in China were finally forced to resign. As most members of the new opposition party were native Taiwanese elite, their common heritage with the vast majority of Taiwan’s population became a campaigning asset, especially since most waisheng Taiwanese could not speak Taiwanese. The Taiwanese elite within the KMT also connected with Taiwanese people on the basis of their shared identity and used it to gain support over their counterparts. Taiwanese elites assailed the KMT’s ruling authority from within and from without. Thus, many in the KMT are now suspicious of the rise of identity awareness among native Taiwanese. They see it not as the emergence of a grass-roots phenomenon, but rather as something cultivated for political gain. They are labeling it populism.

Populism Populism originally emerged in the 1890s in the United States as an economic doctrine with the establishment of the People Party by agrarian reformers who felt that business domination of the political process through campaign contributions and lobbying had begun to undermine democracy. They hoped to replace the political elite with true representatives of the people and take back control of government policy. In this sense, populism refers to a ground–up type of leadership and input into governance and may pit the haves against the have-nots. Economic populism is not the only flavor of populism, however. Recently the term “cultural populism” has emerged in reference to the perception that the U.S. Republican Party is pandering to conservative religious values to entice citizens to vote against their own financial interests. Critics hold that Republican demagoguery includes talking about reducing taxes for lower- and middle-income families while ensuring the majority of the tax cut goes to the wealthy and to corporations. At the same time, Republicans play up a conservative position on abortion and gay marriage. For example, observers have suggested that U.S. President George W. Bush buoyed his reelection campaign by increasing social division with respect to moral values. In

10


this sense, populism represents the top–down enhancement of an agenda (in the U.S. case, moral values) among the general population by the elite. While economic populism is often maligned as stirring up class warfare, cultural populism, at least in the United States, has not received the same sort of criticism. In Taiwan, it would be easy to imagine that the KMT and their supporters have feared economic populism given their historical legacy as a ruling elite closely entwined with the largest corporations of Taiwan and their association with “black gold” politics. Black gold (a literal translation from the Mandarin hei jin) refers to bribery, kickbacks, favoritism, and vote buying among business people, gangsters, and politicians or political parties. It is a system of favored connections and relationships through which money and power are traded such that government policy may be strongly influenced by consideration of special interests. Despite the great wealth of the KMT and their strong membership, particularly Lien Chan, the KMT presidential candidate in 2000 and 2004 and one of the wealthiest people in Taiwan, it is not economic populism that the KMT fears. In fact, it is cultural populism that the KMT and their supporters complain about. They decry this cultural populism as the manifestation of an elite agenda to stir up ethnic conflict for political gain. A major component of this complaint is that ethnic differences are manipulated in relation to the question of the independence versus unification, or reunification, of Taiwan with China. That is, they feel native Taiwanese discriminate against waisheng Taiwanese by defining “being Taiwanese” in terms of support for Taiwan’s independence, and urging waisheng Taiwanese to either support Taiwan’s independence or return to China. It has been argued that the independence-unification issue currently constitutes an axis of political division in Taiwan and that political parties have formed alliances roughly along unification-versusindependence lines. The 2004 election pitted the generally proindependence pan-green camp (green after the main color of the DPP’s flag), a coalition of the Taiwan Solidarity Union (TSU) and the more moderate DPP, against the pan-blue camp (blue after the main color of the KMT’s insignia), a coalition of the pro-unification New Party (NP) and People First Party (PFP), and the “let future generations decide” KMT. But, to try to draw a line on this issue along the boundary of the ethnic differences between native and waisheng Taiwanese is misleading. There are waisheng Taiwanese who profess identification with Taiwan and hope to see it formally recognized as independent, just as there


11

are native Taiwanese who believe some form of unification with China is the best course for Taiwan’s future. There are also many people who may feel identified in different ways at different times, and those who have no opinion on the issue of independence. The mixture of ethnicities and identifications is obvious because, with native Taiwanese constituting the vast majority of the population, if the independence-unification issue were decided along purely ethnic lines, the pan-blues would have no hope of getting elected. Thus, a better way to draw the line on this issue is to consider “Chinese consciousness” as opposed to “Taiwanese consciousness.” Chinese consciousness refers to the feeling or belief that Taiwan is part of Greater China, with a wide range of possibilities for the relationship between Taiwan and China. Taiwanese consciousness refers to the construal of Taiwan as its own nation as opposed to simply an appendage of China.

Nationalism The proportion of residents of Taiwan identifying themselves as Taiwanese has increased in recent years. Whereas a study conducted in the early 1990s by National Chengchi University’s Election Study Centre showed that less than 20 percent of the population described themselves as Taiwanese (as opposed to Chinese, or “Taiwanese and Chinese”), that proportion has now nearly tripled to 57 percent.20 What is driving this rise? Is it a grass-roots cultural phenomenon? Or is it being driven by campaigns for political purposes through populist means? Many pan-green supporters feel that the former KMT dictatorship imposed on Taiwan a Chinese identity alien to the island. To them, the locals’ attempt to differentiate themselves from those who more recently arrived from China is an important and necessary restoration. In contrast, those who feel localization is a threat to the Chinese cultural heritage of Taiwan do not accept what they see as the use of state power to redefine people’s identity. For example, they fervently object to the Chen administration’s education policy, which entails revision of history books in secondary and elementary schools to emphasize Taiwan and Taiwan’s history and deemphasize connections with China. They see it as another example of elite manipulation of the masses through populism. These critics usually point to former President Lee Tung-hui as Taiwan’s first populist politician. Lee sees Taiwanese consciousness as a shield against China and has explicitly promoted its development. But, he has not stopped with the idea of uniting all Taiwanese. He also

12


believes rejection of Chinese identity to be necessary for Taiwan to avoid incorporation into the People’s Republic of China (PRC). He has thus explicitly supported development of a unified antiChinese identity to resist China, and asserted that to be truly Taiwanese requires rejection of China. It is the rejection of China that the pan-blues strenuously object to as they believe it will stir up ethnic conflict. They feel that being Taiwanese does not require rejection of all things Chinese. Furthermore, Lee’s rejection of China and Chinese identity is not just psychological; it is also political and economic. In the eyes of his critics, this philosophy has had seriously dangerous consequences for Taiwan in terms of domestic and foreign policy and consequently for international relations and economic prosperity. Lee’s philosophy requires rejection of all trade and exchange with China, which critics claim leaves little room for cross-strait dialogue and is a source of tension with China, increasing the likelihood of military action or even war. President Chen Shui-bian is seen as Lee’s dutiful successor in this philosophy. Chen’s critics complain that he has continued to lead Taiwan toward isolationism and political fragmentation, and worry about the continued lack of progress in cross-strait negotiations. They point out that Chen continually stirs up cross-strait tensions with remarks about independence, and that his “brinksmanship” will leave China no choice but to invade. They fear that Chen’s support for an “enormous budget” for arms procurement to purchase U.S. missiles can only lead to military escalation and a hopeless path for Taiwan, and point to the fate of the Soviet Union and East Germany as countries that overspent on weapons and military competitiveness instead of developing their economies. In their eyes the result for Taiwan can be only one of two possibilities: a war of independence with China, which would mean the end of Taiwan; or a complete breakdown of the economy due to a massive arms buildup that Taiwan is unable to pay for. Moreover, critics charge that like Lee Teng-hui before him, Chen Shui-bian displays the populist tendency to stir up ethnic discord for personal political gain, and suggest that Chen has used the call for democratic reform as a cover for his real intent, to foster greater Taiwanese consciousness. This problem became more serious in the run-up to the 2004 presidential election. Chen was forced to step up his populist appeal in that campaign, they say, because he was unable to get anything accomplished as president, and thus had no other platform on which to run his campaign. Critics claim that the result


13

for Taiwan has been continual attacks on the minority in order to consolidate the power of the majority. Chen’s conduct in regard to ethnic divisiveness and military buildup has frequently been compared to Hitler’s strategy ahead of the Second World War with the charge that Chen is creating a kind of top–down nationalism. While the comparison strikes many a Westerner as absurd, it has a certain resonance with many well-educated people in Taiwan. In fact, some pan-blue supporters compare themselves to prewar Jews in Germany, pointing to Chen’s consolidation of a national identity (Taiwanese consciousness) by oppressing a minority (the waisheng Taiwanese). They have expressed their grave concern that the DPP is instigating discrimination against waisheng Taiwanese in a manner reminiscent of the unfair treatment of Jewish people in Europe ahead of and during the Second World War, and they have compared how some underground radio stations in Taiwan have said that waisheng Taiwanese should go back to China with the deportation of the Jews.21 They claim that just as Hitler stirred up anti-Jewish sentiment using emotional language to provoke hatred of Jews, the same hate-mongering is happening in Taiwan today. For example, when some DPP leaders suggested that waisheng Taiwanese might have teamed up with China to carry out the election-eve shooting, panblue lawmakers criticized these remarks as brainwashing pan-green supporters against waisheng Taiwanese by stirring up ethnic hatred. To sum up the charges against Chen Shui-bian, critics are concerned that under Chen’s leadership Taiwan is becoming isolated as relationships with allies are damaged and relations with China grow increasingly difficult. In their view, poor external relations coupled with increased internal conflict can only bring disaster for Taiwan, either economically or in the form of direct confrontation with China. To make matters worse, many critics feel that Chen is not proceeding along this dangerous path because he truly believes it to be the best direction for Taiwan. He does not advocate his populist philosophy of Taiwanese consciousness out of a deeply held conviction to “live free or die.” Rather, he is charting this dangerous course simply because it is the one that can bring him personal power. Thus, it is not merely the direction in which Chen Shui-bian is leading Taiwan with which many critics disagree, but also his motivation for choosing the path. In the Chinese way of thinking, this sort of behavior can be seen as ignoble and immoral. The aspects of Chinese culture and psychology that lead to this conclusion are explored in the following chapters. This book examines the psychology of the pan-blue organizations, leaders, history, and ideology. This book offers the reader an

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understanding of the complex charges against President Chen as well as the major issues surrounding the 2004 presidential election, including why emotions were so charged, the pan-blue conundrum, and the reasons for the pan-blue’s continued protests. More important, examination of Taiwan’s political arena and the key figures involved in the 2004 election provides insight into the psychology of the Taiwanese people with regard to the issue of national identity and Taiwan consciousness, and the distinct characteristics of democracy in Taiwan. These issues impact the path Taiwan will take in dealing with crossstrait issues with China and have the potential to impact relations between China and the rest of the international community, particularly the United States and Japan. Examining the cultural aspects of democratic values in a non-Western context may also have implications for non-Western democracies elsewhere in the world. The broad issues of national identity, democracy, and Taiwanese consciousness all came together in a referendum on national security issues held alongside the 2004 presidential election. In fact, part of the pan-blue lawsuit to overturn the election results rested on the claim that the referendum was held illegally and that it unfairly influenced the results by raising Taiwanese consciousness. Whether the referendum encouraged a sense of Taiwanese identity is debatable, but it is certain that Chen Shui-bian was able to control the issues of the election by focusing on the referendum. The development of a referendum law, its impact on Taiwan’s international relations, and the debate over the decision to hold a referendum alongside the presidential election are explored in chapters 2 through 5 to show the basis for and psychology of some of the pan-blue’s claims with regard to Chen Shui-bian. These debates embody many of the larger issues facing Taiwan, such as populism and the growth of Taiwanese consciousness, the rule of law and democracy, and the ideology and ethics of politicians and their parties. Chapters 6 through 8 focus on the question of Taiwanese consciousness and examine the division in Taiwanese society in terms of mass rallies, negative campaigning, and protests and conflict. Chapters 9 and 10 step back to look at what the pan-blues were trying to accomplish, and offer an analysis of the blues and the identity crisis within the pan-blue camp. The final chapters explore some key issues pertaining to national identity and Taiwanese consciousness.

C hapter 2

Taiwanese Consciousness and the Referendum Law

The wood has already been made into a boat. Mandarin proverb

China’s threat to use force if Taiwan takes any political steps toward

independence has prompted those supporting Taiwan’s independence to emphasize psychological steps instead. Taiwanization is a way to make progress toward the goal of international recognition without taking any direct steps that might incite China to take action against Taiwan. Long before they rose to power, Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) leaders understood what could be accomplished with such a strategy; they also realized there was still a need to tread carefully as the international community did not support Taiwan’s independence. For example, in 1998, U.S. President Bill Clinton affirmed Beijing’s “three no’s” policy: no support for Taiwan’s independence, no dual recognition, and no support for Taiwan to join international organizations as a country. With this attitude in the international community, a statement of independence by Taiwan could only bring disaster. Given China’s threat to use military force, U.S. support would be absolutely essential for Taiwan to make such an announcement. Without international support, it was especially important that all DPP members speak with one voice with respect to the DPP’s goals and understanding of the future of Taiwan. Some DPP members intensely desired complete independence as soon as possible; others were more conservative, not wanting to anger China with controversial statements. In 1999 at their eighth National Congress, the DPP amended their charter by adopting the “Resolution on Taiwan’s Future,” which detailed the DPP’s new official position that Taiwan is a sovereign country with the name “Republic of China” (ROC), and

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that any change to this status quo would have to be decided through a nationwide referendum. The resolution also specified that change of any details such as the symbols and flag of Taiwan, and the official name of the country should only be decided through a referendum of all the people of Taiwan. Changing their charter was a wise decision on the part of the DPP leadership. In the past, their charter had emphasized that the DPP would strive for independence. With such a goal, DPP candidates would encounter difficulty getting elected because of fear of reprisals from China. With the change, the DPP no longer had any need to advocate Taiwan’s independence as an immediate necessity. They could completely give up this campaign, which had heretofore put them on one end of the spectrum with regard to Taiwan’s future, with the New Party (NP) and conservative Kuomintang (KMT) members on the other end advocating unification. By changing their charter they found a “new middle way.” In fact, this change in the DPP’s position allowed them to occupy similar ground to the KMT in 2000, which under Lee Teng-hui’s leadership had come to advocate special state-to-state cross-strait relations and the permitting of future generations to decide Taiwan’s course. This chapter examines an apparent shift in Chen’s attitude about Taiwan’s independence during the course of his first term in office. Critics have charged that Chen only pretended to be moderate in order to get elected and then shifted tactics when he saw that a new approach based on Taiwanese consciousness boosted through holding a referendum would be effective in winning him a second term in office. This perceived shift is the basis for his opponents’ claim that Chen plays both sides and is therefore tricky and untrustworthy.

The New Middle Way The new middle way constituted the centerpiece of the DPP’s presidential campaign in 2000, and was powerful enough to gain Chen Shui-bian sufficient support to win that election with 39 percent of the vote against the two opponents who split the opposition vote against him (People First Party (PFP) candidate James Soong, 37 percent; KMT candidate Lien Chan, 23 percent). The new middle way figured prominently in Chen’s May 2000 inauguration speech, in which he proposed the “five no’s”:1 As long as the CCP [Chinese Communist Party] regime has no intention to use military force against Taiwan, I pledge that during my term

T aiwanese C onsciousness

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in office, I will not declare independence. I will not change the national title. I will not push forth the inclusion of the so-called state-to-state description in the constitution, and I will not promote a referendum to change the status quo with regard to independence or unification. Furthermore, the abolition of the National Reunification Council or the National Reunification Guidelines will not be an issue.

Many people believed this speech signaled that President Chen fully intended to carry out the new middle way and that he would be able to relieve cross-strait tensions. Indeed, he maintained this attitude of speaking neutrally about China and at least veiling mention of Taiwanese sovereignty for the first two-and-a-half years of his presidency, although his unwillingness to consider unification always remained clear. For example, on December 31, 2000, President Chen delivered a heartfelt speech on the new millennium using a number of metaphors emphasizing cooperation: “If we continue to clench our fists against each other, we will not be able to hold anything in our hands . . . . Only with open hands can we accomplish anything, and have opportunities to hold out our hands and embrace.”2 He emphasized the importance of harmony and cooperation among the different political parties of Taiwan for realizing maximum benefit for all Taiwan’s people and new opportunities for resolution of cross-strait problems. He also stressed the connections between people on either side of the strait, remarking that people on both sides had faced similar hardships, and have similar bloodlines, cultures, and historical backgrounds. He noted that the leaders of both sides possess enough wisdom and creativity to jointly deal with the question of a future “one China,” while upholding the principles of democracy and reciprocity and building upon the existing foundations, and construct conditions for cooperation through goodwill.3

Only in this way, Chen counseled, would the two sides be able to work together in handling the “one China” problem the issue of how Taiwan is related to China. However, Chen also went on to point out that, according to the constitution of the ROC, there is no “one China” problem [because the ROC constitution assumes the ROC government to be the ruler of all of China]. He also said that he hoped that People’s Republic of China (PRC) leaders could understand the anxiety of the Taiwanese people in the face of unification, and remarked that if China could not

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respect and understand “the will of the 23 million Taiwanese people to be their own masters” it would “lead to unnecessary differences between the two sides.”4 Despite invocation of the warm imagery of brothers clasping hands and embracing, and his use of conciliatory language, President Chen still delivered a stern message: Taiwan would like to cooperate with China, but if China cannot respect the will of Taiwan’s people then . . . The threat is unspoken but very clear. Chen’s use of the phrases “principles of democracy” and “the will of the Taiwanese people to be their own masters” reflects his desire that the Chinese government give up the “one China principle” (that Taiwan is part of China) and recognize the sovereignty of Taiwan. It alludes to his requirement that China allow “one China” to be a discussable issue, instead of a precondition to cross-strait discussion. For the rest of the world, Chen’s statement may have signaled an apparent willingness of democratic Taiwan to negotiate in good faith—but for many in Taiwan and certainly in China, as the Chinese government would never extend a receptive response to such a request, it showed a complete refusal to negotiate.

One Country on Each Side At the Democratic Progressive Party National Congress on July 21, 2002, President Chen was elected chairman of the DPP. In his acceptance remarks he emphasized that if cross-strait relations were to be normalized, it would be important to reopen negotiations with China.5 If at first there were problems doing so, he suggested initial unofficial visits beginning with an exchange of representatives of nongovernmental organizations and political party members. As chairman of the DPP, Chen said he would carry out such exchanges, and that he would use confidence, goodwill, and action to open the door to negotiation. He stated that he expected China to be receptive to his goodwill, and that he hoped to take the first steps in history toward the development of a cross-strait relationship. After these remarks, President Chen told the crowd that if China does not care to respond to Taiwan’s goodwill, the people of Taiwan must consider whether Taiwan can go its own way.6 What does “go its own way” mean? The answer was made clear in a speech President Chen made via remote video hookup to the largely pro-independence World Federation of Taiwanese Associations at its twenty-ninth annual meeting in Japan on August 3, 2002.7 President Chen explained that


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Taiwan is not a part of any other country, nor is it a local government or province of another country. Taiwan can never be another Hong Kong or Macau, because Taiwan has always been a sovereign state. In short, Taiwan and China are standing on opposite sides of the Strait; there is one country on each side. This should be clear . . . . China has never renounced the use of force against Taiwan and continues to attempt to suffocate us internationally. This strains the goodwill of the people of Taiwan. China’s insistence on the “one China principle” and “one country, two systems” means a change of the status quo for Taiwan. The decision to change the status quo for Taiwan cannot be made for us by any country, any government, any political party, or any single individual. Only the 23 million people of Taiwan have the right to decide the future, fate, and status of Taiwan. This is our long term ideal and common goal. And should the need arise, how will this decision be made? It will be made by referendum. A referendum is a basic human right, and thus a basic right of the 23 million people of Taiwan, a right that can not be deprived and restricted. I sincerely call upon and encourage everyone to give thought to the importance and urgency of initiating referendum legislation.

President Chen’s point was that only the people of Taiwan should have the power to decide Taiwan’s future. Given the continued threat from China to deprive Taiwan’s citizens of that right, it is hard to know exactly when a referendum on Taiwan’s future should be held. In any case, Taiwan had no clear legal basis on which to hold a national referendum, so he advocated establishing that foundation so as to be prepared should the need to hold a referendum arise. The implications of Chen’s remarks are twofold. First, before Chen made his acceptance remarks and this speech, part of his strategy had been to use only vague or confusing statements about the cross-strait problem. For example, he had said that the biggest mutual cross-strait recognition was no mutual recognition, and claimed that unification was not the only option,8 but he had also stated that he had not ruled out “one China,” that “one China” is not a problem,9 and that “one China” could be interpreted differently by those on either side of the strait.10 But, in these two speeches he chose to make his thoughts clear. In the debate over unification versus independence, Chen had now for the first time as president clearly spoken out on the side of independence. He gave up his previous ambiguity. Second, as China has not renounced use of force against Taiwan, Chen intimated that he was not bound by his inaugural pledge not to hold a referendum on the future of Taiwan. Why did President Chen suddenly

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begin to talk about “one country on each side” in the third year of his presidency? According to Chen’s critics, the answer had to do with the upcoming 2004 election. Chen’s election in 2000 brought about the first DPP administration. The DPP did have some successes over Chen’s term, most notably with the passage of a suite of financial reform bills, legislation that improved the legal basis for protecting intellectual property rights, and improved enforcement of these rights. They had also made some inroads into stamping out systemic government corruption. But because they did not have an absolute majority in the legislature the DPP had been unable to pass a number of important bills. Furthermore, three years later, the cross-strait relationship was still not stable. The economy had declined, albeit in the context of global recession, but as Taiwanese were losing money, particularly in the stock market, they blamed Chen. Even the problem of kickbacks, which the DPP had been so confident about conquering, was not much assuaged. It could even be argued that the problem of cronyism had worsened. In year three of his presidency the issue looming the largest for the next election was the state of the economy; it seemed unlikely that President Chen would be able to be reelected based on economic performance. Finding an ideal to divert voters’ attention from this and other issues, and concentrate the power of his supporters would be the most effective campaign strategy. The DPP’s solution was to focus on the advance of democracy in Taiwan, which was widely interpreted as a thinly veiled move toward independence and elimination of the possibility of unification. Developing Taiwanese consciousness was the key to advancing the DPP agenda. Former President Lee Teng-hui also played a role in Chen’s decision to clarify the DPP’s position and show his hand. In 1999, toward the end of his term as president, Lee Teng-hui had advocated special state-to-state relations with respect to China, which had increased cross-strait tensions and ended communication between the two governments. After his term ended, Lee broke with the KMT, and his followers formed a new political party, the Taiwan Solidarity Union (TSU).11 The TSU has focused on a number of issues from a strongly pro–Taiwanese consciousness standpoint. For example, the TSU is against the three links (direct transportation, trade, and postal routes between Taiwan and China), against allowing Taiwan’s wafer-fabs to relocate to China, and for changing Taiwan’s law to require that candidates for president be born in Taiwan. The TSU has also advocated changing the official name of the nation to “Taiwan” from “Republic


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of China” and even proposed establishing an explicitly independent Taiwan with a new constitution by 2008. In order to maintain support from swing voters, for the previous three years Chen had kept to the new middle way and had maintained his distance from Lee despite Lee’s continual pressure on Chen to help him accomplish his own stated goals. But now, with only a yearand-a-half left before the next election, Lee began to intimate that if the Chen did not get behind the TSU and its platform, he might not be able to count on Lee’s support. For example, when the media questioned Lee as to whether the TSU would field a presidential candidate in 2004, Lee remarked that he did not know yet. This response was interpreted as a message to Chen Shui-bian to let Chen know that if he did not work toward the TSU’s goals, Lee would find someone who would. Lee Teng-hui is often called the father of Taiwan, while Chen is known as the son of Taiwan. They are indeed united in their beliefs about Taiwan’s independence, which is why many people say “like father, like son” in reference to the two of them. Under Lee’s pressure, Chen had to make up his mind as to whether to make his position clear—otherwise he risked losing Lee’s support, which he would definitely need in order to have a chance at winning the 2004 presidential election. Lee Teng-hui still has very great influence among many Taiwanese, especially supporters of Taiwan’s independence. With over a million voters likely to follow his suggestion in voting in the presidential election, Chen had to choose between the chance to win the next election and keeping to the new middle way. Chen’s “one country on each side” remark and his urging of the passage of a referendum law aroused strong criticism from opposition parties within Taiwan. KMT Chairman Lien Chan accused Chen of tying up Taiwan’s 23 million people with independence TNT.12 People First Party Chairman James Soong called Chen “reckless” and accused Chen of going against the promises in his inauguration speech, saying his proposal was a complete bankruptcy of the “five no’s.”13 Although a number of government officials and DPP leaders immediately confirmed that the government’s cross-strait policy would remain unchanged, Chen’s comments also caused jitters among investors, lowering stock prices on Taiwan’s main share index in the following week. Military officials canceled a series of planned war games as part of an apparent effort to defuse tensions. In what some interpreted as backtracking, government officials further explained that Chen’s remark reflected the current political situation across the strait, and that Chen had not said that a referendum should

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be held. Rather, he had said that if the time ever came to make a decision about changing Taiwan’s status quo, a referendum would be the only acceptable way to do so, and so a referendum law should be passed to establish the mechanism. The United States took note of these explanations. When asked about President Chen’s “one country on each side” remark during a press conference, Sean McCormack, the spokesman for the National Security Council, said U.S. policy is well-known, long-standing, and remains unchanged. We have a oneChina policy and we do not support Taiwan independence . . . . It’s our understanding that the authorities on Taiwan have publicly emphasized that Chen Shui-bian’s August 3rd remarks were not a call for independence, and we certainly take those assurances at their face value.14

He concluded his remarks on Taiwan by saying that the United States would ask both sides to avoid taking any action that might threaten peace and stability, and urged the resumption of cross-strait dialogue. In Taiwan, McCormack’s remarks were seen as having particular significance. This was the first time that a U.S. official spokesperson had said in public that the United States does “not support Taiwan’s independence.” Before that, U.S. spokespersons had only said that the “one China” policy had not changed, and had not specifically mentioned Taiwan’s independence. When McCormack answered the question about Taiwan, he referred to Taiwan’s president as “Chen Shui-bian” not as “Mr.” or “President” Chen Shui-bian. Many in Taiwan believed that the White House was sending them a stern message. However, the remarks still had some positive results for the DPP; they gave President Chen a certain image in international society. He had spoken out for democratic values and human rights at the risk of angering China. His remarks had also satisfied many of his core supporters, some of whom had felt that Chen had “betrayed the revolution” and that his previous attitude toward China had been too soft. He was also able to use the “one country on each side” statement to make opposition leaders look foolish. In a speech delivered on December 7, 2002, Chen sent out a challenge to KMT Chairman Lien Chan, asking why he did not dare to say that the cross-strait reality is “one country on each side.” Chen suggested that he had only meant that on one side of the strait is the PRC, and on the other side is the ROC. He had said nothing of Taiwan’s independence. Two weeks later when the media questioned Lien Chan with Chen’s question, Lien had to admit that Chen’s statement was in fact acceptable


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to him.15 According to Chen, Lien’s admission proved that “one country on each side” was clearly the mainstream perception in Taiwan as the KMT had also accepted it and admitted it as reality. Chen teased his opponents, suggesting that they were all parrots who just followed what he said. He described them using a Taiwanese idiom about people who hold incense and just go along with others to show respect and pray without really knowing what they are doing; they can only follow along mimicking the gestures without understanding their significance.16 After Chen was elected president in 2000, Beijing leaders adopted a “wait and see” attitude toward him, refraining from the harsh rhetoric that had been prominent just prior to the election. Perhaps they realized they would have to learn to deal with Chen and were assuaged by his statements that he was willing to talk about “one China.” At the time of Chen’s August 2002 “one country on each side” remark, the Beijing leadership was busy with a series of meetings at the Beidaihe seaside resort in preparation for the sixteenth National Congress, at which the new leadership line-up would be decided. In its early response to Chen’s remarks, China’s Foreign Ministry only restated its “one China” policy, said it would not respond specifically to Chen’s remarks, and referred questions to the Taiwan Affairs Office, which in turn said a statement would be forthcoming, but declined to specify exactly when.17 How to teach Chen Shui-bian a lesson became one of the main topics of discussion at the Beidaihe meeting. Many felt Chen’s “one country on each side” statement was more serious than Lee Tenghui’s 1999 state-to-state relations comment, and several generals spoke out strongly in favor of taking military action against Taiwan. President Jiang Zemin was “reportedly taken aback because implicit in the generals’ proposals was the criticism that his Taiwan and US policy had been too ‘weak and soft.’ ”18 There was even talk of declaring a state of national emergency. “If we don’t do anything, we may forever fail in the holy task of recovering the island.”19 The preferred method of teaching Chen a lesson was a series of quick air strikes that would not give the United States the opportunity to intervene. Premier Zhu Rongji was said to favor a military response. It was even reported that a “Politburo member, [who is] a provincial party secretary usually deemed a Jiang protégé, said in private that if the president failed to take resolute steps to thwart Chen’s dark goals, ‘Jiang’s position in history will be jeopardized.’ ”20 Thus, Jiang needed to be able to show something about his policy on Taiwan at the sixteenth congress in order to avoid conflict within the party between the hawks

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and doves. He could no longer keep silent; he needed to take decisive action. President Jiang skillfully managed to gain agreement to delay military action at least until after his summit with President George W. Bush at Bush’s Texas ranch in late October 2002. Meanwhile, he directed the Chinese media to attack Taiwan. The Xinhua News Agency, the People’s Daily, and the Weekly Prospect all published articles criticizing Chen’s “one country on each side” statement. They also urged overseas Chinese media to criticize Chen. All government departments involved with Taiwan affairs joined in the media attack. As one Reuters reporter put it, “The Chinese news media have revved up their Chen-bashing whirligig in the last two days, trotting out everyone and everything from Beijing noodle sellers to Spanish newspaper editorials condemning the Taiwan president’s latest remarks.”21 It is of interest that only China’s English-language news media threatened use of force against Taiwan. The more bellicose remarks, such as those of top generals that it may be necessary to resort to force to preserve peace, did not appear in the Chinese-language media.

The Fight for a Referendum Law In early 2003, SARS (sudden acute respiratory syndrome), a lethal and highly contagious form of pneumonia, spread from China to Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore, Europe, and Canada after China attempted to cover up a local outbreak and failed to cooperate with the World Health Organization (WHO) in the early months of the epidemic. China’s opposition to cooperation between the WHO and Taiwan slowed global efforts to control the spread of the disease. The World Health Assembly (WHA), the WHO decision-making body, held its annual conference in May 2003 in Geneva in the wake of the SARS epidemic. For the previous six years Taiwan had applied for observer status as a “health entity” (not as a sovereign state). Each time the application had been denied due to China’s objections, even though the WTO recognizes Taiwan as an “economic entity” and at international tunamanagement conferences it is a “fishing entity.” This time, many expected that the SARS outbreak would empirically demonstrate Taiwan’s need to participate in the WHO and highlight the moral responsibility of other nations to allow Taiwan’s people to be represented. Furthermore, Beijing’s negligence and recalcitrance during the SARS epidemic had clearly resulted in real harm to the people of Taiwan. Beijing’s argument that only it could represent Taiwan’s health needs was patently false.


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Under China’s pressure, Taiwan’s request was rejected for a seventh time. The chairman of a technical briefing on the SARS epidemic, WHO Secretary-General Gro Harlem Brundtland, even declined to allow Taiwan’s Department of Health director-general to report Taiwan’s experiences with SARS, even though six other SARS-affected countries and territories explained their situations in the briefing. Many in Taiwan felt that the WHO had ignored their human rights and health. President Chen’s response was to suggest use of a referendum to express the Taiwanese people’s desire to join the WHO and show the world the determination of Taiwan to join the global health network. For President Chen, there were more benefits to holding a referendum than simply expressing the will of Taiwan’s people. First, many people considered that holding a referendum would signify a move toward independence. Chen could take this opportunity to demonstrate that holding a referendum was not necessarily a step toward independence. Second, once a referendum mechanism was established and a referendum was held on any topic, it would later be easier to hold another referendum on more sensitive issues. This was not the first time Chen had floated the idea of a referendum. Not long after Chen became president in 2000 there was talk of holding a referendum on the contentious issue of the construction of the fourth nuclear power plant at Kungliao. On May 20, 2003 President Chen asked government agencies and opposition parties to propose a referendum on the country’s entry into the WHO. Pan-blue leaders strongly opposed Chen’s suggestion of WHO entry as a referendum topic. Although he also opposed Beijing’s blocking of Taiwan’s bid for WHO observer status, KMT Chairman Lien Chan said that a referendum “wasn’t necessary because it politicizes the issue,” while James Soong averred, “to support Taiwan’s bid for the WHO is like eating—there is no need to hold a referendum to decide if one is hungry.”22 KMT spokesman Alex Tsai astutely pointed out that as referendums are designed to solve a nation’s internal affairs, the WHO bid was not a suitable topic.23 The pan-blue camp was caught in the bind of being drawn into discussion of suitable topics for a referendum while being opposed to passing a referendum law, which would establish the mechanism for holding a referendum. They were rightly concerned that passing such a law could open the door to a referendum on independence, which they fiercely opposed. Furthermore, they faced the problem that even refuting the topic and refusing to pass a referendum law would not necessarily be sufficient to stop a national referendum. According to some legal scholars, a basis for holding a national referendum already

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existed in Taiwan’s constitution, which guarantees to Taiwan’s citizens the right to initiate a referendum.24 The challenge for President Chen and the DPP, then, was either to rally support to proceed with a national referendum on the basis existing in Taiwan’s constitution, or to get the legislature, in which the DPP and its allies did not hold a majority, to pass a referendum law. Either way the DPP hoped to keep the issue focused on what basis would be suitable for holding a referendum rather than whether or not to hold one. Cabinet Spokesman Lin Chia-lung announced that the Cabinet intended to hold a referendum on entry into the WHO before May 2004, when the WHA would hold its next annual meeting. He explained that if the legislature was willing to pass a referendum law, then that would create the legal basis for holding a binding national referendum—whatever the result, the government would be required to hold to it. But if the legislature could not pass the needed legislation, then the Cabinet would hold a consultative referendum, which is nonbinding. Lin pointed out that Norway and Demark have held referendums without a referendum law, demonstrating that this is normal in modern democratic societies.25 Although some legal scholars in Taiwan supported the contention that holding a national referendum would not violate Taiwan’s then current laws, and could in fact be held without creating a special law, others disagreed. Opponents pointed out that according to Taiwan’s constitution, government officials and lawmakers are given their power by the voters; their power is indirect power. Voters have direct power. If voters believe their representatives are not doing a good job, they can initiate a law and directly pass it through a referendum. Likewise, if the legislature passes a law that the people do not like, voters can call for a review and use a referendum to directly overturn it. Direct power does not require that legislators be involved. Consequently, since a referendum is the direct expression of the people’s power, it should be carried out only as a last resort if representatives are not doing their job. With this logic, the people’s will by referendum must therefore be legally binding and must result in a policy decision that is binding. Opponents argued that if a referendum represents the direct power of the people, the government can not use it merely for a nonbinding consultation. It should not be the government that calls a referendum—it should be the people who call for the application of their own direct power. For the government to initiate a referendum would be to twist the direct power of the people. According to this point of view, the


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DPP’s statement that there was no need for a special referendum law in order for the government to initiate a nonbinding referendum went against the constitution of Taiwan. Naturally, with charges as serious as violation of the constitution, emotions ran high as the DPP and its allies tried to push a referendum bill through the legislature. There were reports of pan-blue lawmakers voicing their protests at the top of their lungs.26 In the face of prolonged deadlock, the Cabinet began drafting an administrative regulation (which does not need to be sent to the legislature for approval) in accordance with the constitution and Administrative Procedure Law to provide guidelines for nationwide referendums and to serve as a basis for holding referendums by executive order. The KMT’s response was to have its legislative caucus leader propose a noconfidence vote against the premier during the next legislative session. However, the pan-blues could see the writing on the wall. One way or another the Chen administration was going to hold its referendum. On June 27, 2003 at Taiwan’s first Nuclear-Free Homeland Conference, President Chen repeated his earlier pledge to hold a nationwide referendum on the Fourth Nuclear Power Plant. On that same day, pan-blue legislators suddenly decided to change their strategy from defense to offense. If a referendum was going to be held, they wanted it to be on their own terms. They called for a special legislative session especially to pass a referendum law. Five months later, on November 27, 2003, after long debate and much negotiation, legislators began to vote on the referendum law. The vote was quite lengthy. There were six different draft versions of the law. According to legislative procedures, a vote was made on each of the articles of every draft, line by line. Because the pan-blue alliance held the majority of seats in the legislature, the law that was passed was mostly the KMT version. The DPP’s version, which included the possibility of a unification or independence referendum, and a referendum on replacing the constitution, was rejected. The new Referendum Law set no restriction on the date of referendums; they could be held on the same date as national elections, including presidential elections. However, it did restrict the topics suitable to be put to referendum: confirmation of laws, creation of legislative principles, and important policy creation or confirmation. It plainly stated that although the constitution may be amended by referendum, it is not possible to decide to create a new constitution by referendum. The new Referendum Law did not explicitly forbid the holding of a referendum on unification or independence. However, it did provide for a referendum review commission to examine proposed

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referendums as a check. The commission would be composed of 21 members, who would be recommended by each political party according to its representation in the legislature. Finally, the Referendum Law specified that consultative referendums (those initiated by the government, not directly by the people) are not permitted. The Cabinet is not allowed to initiate them or to ask others to initiate them, nor is the Cabinet allowed to allocate any budget or resources for referendums. If any government officials or lawmakers transgressed the Referendum Law they could be charged and sentenced to a minimum of six months and maximum of three years of jail time. There was one exception—one possible referendum that the government could call for under the new law. Article 17 specified that if the nation faced an external threat that could cause national sovereignty to be changed or weakened, the president would have the power to ask the Cabinet to hold a defensive referendum on national security issues. With the important exception of a defensive referendum, the Referendum Law limited the power of the referendum to the people, specifying that the government had no right to pick the issue of a referendum, and that any referendum held would have to be binding. The government would be required to carry out the results. The pan-greens harshly criticized the new Referendum Law, labeling it a “caged-bird Referendum Law.” The problem, they argued, was that the referendum supervisory review commission had the right to veto a proposed referendum. The existence of such a committee would deprive the people of their elementary right to exercise direct democratic mechanisms. Moreover, hard-core pro-independence supporters were disappointed at the restrictions on the content of referendums, and the inability of the government to initiate them. When the legislature passes a law it must be promulgated by the president within ten days of his receiving it. But, in this case, President Chen exercised his constitutional right to send it back to the legislature for reconsideration as he strongly disagreed with the power of the supervisory committee. The legislature then confirmed it a second time, and so President Chen had no choice but to sign it into law. It became effective on December 31, 2003.

C hapter 3

The Referendum and T aiwan ’s I nternational Rel ations

It doesn’t matter how slowly you go as long as you don’t stop. Confucius

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n 2000, Kuomintang (KMT) and People First Party (PFP) presidential candidates Lien Chan and James Soong had split the opposition vote, allowing Chen to win with 39 percent. For the 2004 election, KMT and PFP party leaders did their math and figured that their combined 60 percent of the vote would certainly bring them victory. They united to support Lien Chan as their presidential candidate with James Soong as his running mate. This successful union against President Chen for the 2004 election campaign placed Chen under enormous pressure; he needed a bold move to have a chance of success. Chen’s announcements in the summer of 2003 that he would hold referendums on the nuclear power plant and World Health Organization (WHO) entry were that bold move. The pan-blues believed that holding a referendum could have serious negative consequences for Taiwan. It could sour international relations by making Taiwan seem provocative or uncooperative, or worse, it could provoke China into attacking, especially if it appeared Taiwan had lost international support. Many of Chen’s critics were of the view that he was embarking on a very dangerous game with potentially devastating consequences for Taiwan. Many also believed that Chen’s sole motivation for taking this path was to enhance his election prospects. Certainly it is clear that there would be benefits to Chen in holding either referendum. A referendum on the issue of whether to continue construction of the nuclear power plant would reassure those who strongly supported Taiwan’s independence, and stabilize the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) power base. As it concerned

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only internal affairs, China would be less likely to oppose it. However, a referendum on WHO membership would have much more farreaching implications. In addition to consolidating support, it would also be likely to increase pressure from China because it touched on the issue of sovereignty. Increased pressure from China could be used to consolidate anti-Chinese consciousness and, in the viewpoint of Chen’s critics, would also provide the opportunity to label those against such a referendum as willing to sell out Taiwan, and cast them as being the same as the Chinese Communists. Actually, no matter what issue or topic President Chen might have selected for the referendum, once Beijing voiced an opinion against it and set about raising international pressure and increasing cross-strait tensions, the psychological result in Taiwan would be the same. Taiwanese nationalism would be strengthened in the face of China’s objections. Furthermore, many pan-blue politicians feared that antiChinese sentiment previously directed at Beijing would be transferred to themselves by accusations that anyone opposing the referendum was the mouthpiece of Beijing. From the perspective of many of President Chen’s critics, beginning in May 2003 Chen’s strategy for the 2004 election locked its focus on holding a referendum with these twin benefits in mind. Beijing may have recognized this strategy. Instead of responding directly, China’s leaders appealed to the United States to pressure Taiwan not to hold the referendum. This tactic in fact marked a change from Beijing’s strategy applied during the first two presidential elections. Previously, Beijing had insisted that the Taiwan problem was China’s internal affair and should not be internationalized. With President Hu Jintao and Prime Minister Wen Jiabao’s rise to power, a new strategy of applying pressure to Taiwan through international condemnation emerged. Thereafter, Chinese policy on Taiwan was continually emphasized to other governments in the hope that international society would accept Beijing’s position. China made it clear to the United States that any referendum would be unacceptable, whatever the topic. No matter how limited and domestic the issue might be, it would cross the red line requiring some unspecified action against Taiwan. To Chen’s critics it appeared that the United States quickly began to admonish Taiwan using China’s words after Chen announced his intention to hold a referendum. Chinese-language newspapers reported that in a meeting with President Chen Shui-bian on June 20, 2003, the director of the American Institute in Taiwan (AIT) Douglas Paal had expressed U.S. opposition to Taiwan’s holding referendums

T aiwan ’s International R el ations

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on domestic issues. Legislative Yuan Speaker Wang Jin-pyng quoted Paal as saying that by holding referendums Taiwan would be “crossing the red line.”1 Many in Taiwan viewed Paal’s reported statement as the United States adopting China’s line, and an attempt to add pressure on Taiwan to drop the referendum idea since the United States had no desire to fight a war in the Taiwan Strait for any reason, but especially not because of a referendum. Later, Paal claimed that he had never told local politicians or media that the United States was opposed to a referendum on nuclear power or any other subject. U.S. State Department Deputy Spokesman Philip Reeker denied knowledge of Paal’s meeting, and urged both Taiwan and China “to refrain from actions or statements that increase tension across the straits or make dialogue more difficult to achieve.”2 Regardless of whether Paal actually directly said the United States “opposed” Taiwan’s plan to hold a referendum, to many it seemed clear the United States not only wanted Taiwan to refrain from any action that might upset China, but also was warning that Taiwan would have to be responsible for the results of such action. Although both the green camp and the blue camp accused one another of leaking Paal’s statement to the press for political gain, both sides agreed that the United States should not stop Taiwan from holding referendums to decide matters of internal affairs, and the whole event seemed to consolidate opinion in Taiwan with respect to Taiwan’s right to hold referendums. For example, PFP Chairman James Soong said, “Even though Taiwan’s timing of the referendum and the kind of issues discussed should be considered discreetly, Taiwanese citizens still have the right to express their opinions on public policies.”3 Similarly, Vice President Annette Lu remarked in a television interview, The US government is in no position to oppose our decision to hold referendums, which is a basic human right and also a mechanism to show the collective will of all Taiwanese . . . . As an independent sovereign country, Taiwan, the Republic of China, will not allow any other country to interfere in its domestic affairs.4

It was only a few days after these statements were made that the panblue camp reversed its opposition to referendum legislation, and began to push for it instead. President Chen’s chief aide Chiou I-jen was to be sent to the United States in late July to explain the referendum issue to White House officials, think-tanks, and others. Beijing quickly ordered the director

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and deputy director of its Taiwan Affairs Office to visit Washington ahead of Chiou’s visit to explain Beijing’s viewpoint. In Chiou I-jen’s meetings, the Americans made it clear they had taken seriously President Chen’s confirmation that he would not change the status quo of Taiwan. Randall Schriver, deputy assistant secretary of state for East Asian and Pacific Affairs, said the United States did not see any compelling reason for Taipei to carry out a referendum, but that it was “a decision Taiwan would have to make for itself” and that if the referendum’s purpose was for Taiwan’s domestic affairs, it is not “necessarily something that we have to proactively support.”5 Although some saw these comments as merely emphasizing support for the status quo, others interpreted them as indicative of weakening U.S. policy toward Taiwan. Some feared that as a result of the proposed referendum the U.S. government was not only losing confidence in President Chen, it was also increasing its support for China. For example, when U.S. President George W. Bush met with Chinese President Hu Jintao on the sidelines of the G8 summit in France in June, he raised concerns when he talked about “no support for Taiwan’s independence” but did not mention peaceful resolution with the assent of the Taiwanese people. Furthermore, many of Chen’s critics took Schriver’s remark that the “referendum’s purpose was for Taiwan’s domestic affairs” to be U.S. recognition that Chen was manipulating the election through the referendum and therefore it was not the U.S. government’s place to become involved in Taiwan’s election. This chapter clarifies why many of Chen’s critics have been so deeply disturbed by Chen’s actions—they fundamentally do not trust him as a person. They believe Taiwan’s interests are not being well represented in dealing with other countries and that Chen is bringing Taiwan dangerously close to war for the sake of increasing his chances of winning the 2004 election. This chapter provides context for understanding the intensity of the protests after the election, and insight into why critics are unlikely to be satisfied with anything Chen does in the current term. It also shows how issues in Taiwan are to some extent driven by local perception of how the international community, particularly the United States, regards Taiwan.

Currying Favor with the United States Of course, there were a number of important issues under consideration between the United States and Taiwan besides cross-strait relations,


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namely weapons sales and trade issues. Many had noted Washington’s seeming impatience over the past year with Taiwan’s defense ministry and the legislature’s indecision over purchasing the arms promised by the United States, which had led to concerns that the Chen administration was dragging its feet on funding for the purchase because it was counting on the United States to defend it in case of attack by China (as required under the U.S. Taiwan Relations Act) and was not serious about defending itself. In the face of China’s ever-increasing arsenal of ballistic missiles targeting Taiwan, in April 2001, President Bush had formally authorized sale of a range of advanced weapons including four guided-missile destroyers, eight diesel submarines, subhunting aircraft, and a new version of the Patriot air defense missiles. The scale of the package was unprecedented. Nevertheless, many in Taiwan were disappointed that most of the items offered used older technology, such as the Kidd-class destroyers, which were built for the Shah of Iran in the 1970s. Furthermore, as the United States had stopped manufacturing this type of submarine in the 1950s and could not find any other country willing to build them, it appeared there might be substantial up-front costs because the subs might have to be designed and built from scratch. Also, there was a general feeling that the weapons offered to Taiwan were being sold at an inflated price; so although the defense ministry had put in several requests for a special budget for purchase of the approved weapons, and the Cabinet had approved a budget, the opposition-dominated legislature has been reluctant to pass it. Critics charged that the Chen administration was pushing for a deal in favor of the United States as a way of buying acquiescence on the referendum issue. A second issue Chen’s critics feared was tainted by Chen’s referendum antics was free trade. In April 2003, Taiwan was placed on the U.S. Trade Representative’s Special 301 Priority Watch List of serious intellectual property rights (IPR) violators for the third year in a row. In previous months, the U.S. government had frequently expressed its frustration at Taiwan’s slow progress in improving IPR protection and complying with World Trade Organization agreements. Former U.S. Secretary of Defense and U.S.-Taiwan Business Council Chairman William Cohen said the United States would not talk to Taiwan about a free-trade agreement until Taipei did more to protect IPR and live up to its WTO commitments, such as opening agricultural markets. Some of President Chen’s critics charged that actually the proportion of pirated goods seized in the United States that were made in Taiwan had greatly dropped, meaning that Taiwan should have been removed from the watch list. These critics attributed Taiwan’s

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difficulty in getting removed from the list to U.S. disapproval of the Chen administration, and Chen’s push to hold referendums.6 A third issue President Chen’s opponents highlighted as evidence that he was favoring U.S. interests over Taiwan’s was China Airlines’ (CAL) engine purchase decision. General Electric (GE) and Pratt and Whitney of the United States, and Rolls Royce of the United Kingdom competed against one another on a bid to supply the engines. Early media reports suggested that Rolls Royce was likely to get the deal for twelve A330–300 engines, as it had offered a price cut, as well as repair and maintenance, and spare parts and components. There were reports that British Prime Minister Tony Blair had written a letter to President Chen on behalf of Rolls Royce. When CAL’s announcement of its final decision was delayed, and it was rumored that the Americans would get the bid, U.K. and European Union (EU) representatives in Taipei went to do some last-minute lobbying, meeting with Cabinet Secretary-General Chiou I-jen. Media reports suggested the purchase had been held up by the Presidential Office in an effort to secure an overseas stopover for President Chen, and that as the United Kingdom had failed to grant Chen a stopover, Rolls Royce would lose the bid. The European Commission warned that the deal could have a major impact on Taipei-EU ties, noting that Taiwan was bound by the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and to make deals only on the basis of price, quality, and delivery terms. Concerns of government tampering may have been particularly high as Taiwan’s government has a majority stake in China Airlines. Also, there seemed to be a precedent for interference. In 2002, after initially leaning toward purchasing new commercial jets from the European maker Airbus, CAL decided to split its purchase order between Airbus and Boeing after the U.S. government expressed its concerns. In response to these rumors of government involvement in CAL’s decision, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs released a statement saying it would not and had not interfered with CAL’s purchase of engines. The Presidential Office spokesman also denied that the government had played any role in the purchase. The CAL chairman clarified that the purchase would be decided by the company alone and that the government would not provide any input. Media reports suggested that CAL had indeed originally planned to purchase Rolls Royce engines, but favored a U.S. manufacturer after Airbus informed them of the additional US$20 million in aircraft airworthiness certification fees that it would have to pay for use of Rolls Royce engines.


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When the announcement of the final decision came, a CAL spokesperson defended it saying, “The selection process involved more than six months of evaluating the quality, cost, technical support and warranty stipulations . . . . We eventually chose GE because of its superiority in these areas and its offer to dispose of our last 747–200 aircraft.”7 Interestingly, before the deal went through, CAL’s labor union had also accused management of being arm-twisted by the government—but they accused the government of pressuring CAL to go with the U.K. company. The union criticized use of Rolls Royce jet engines because it would lead to a sharp rise in engine maintenance costs as CAL’s existing maintenance systems were not designed for them. Critics of the Chen administration tied the last-minute change in CAL’s decision to Chiou I-jen’s July trip to the United States, suggesting the Presidential Office had influenced the decision in order to appease the United States on the referendum issue. They explained that Pratt and Whitney had been dropped from consideration early on, but then brought back into the bidding in order to provide competition for General Electric. Critics further charged that in fact as Pratt and Whitney’s engines were not suitable for long-range aircraft, CAL could not purchase them since they would have been able to use the planes only on short-range flights. Knowing that CAL would have to buy its engines, GE had raised its prices. Critics charged that China Airlines had been forced to sacrifice its business interests under political pressure, and this pressure was not for the betterment of Taiwan, but for the benefit of one person—President Chen Shui-bian—who was garnering international support to help push through a referendum that would increase his chance of winning the presidential election.

Appeasing China How to establish the three links (trade, postal, and transportation) has been a major issue in cross-strait negotiations. Economic and security benefits and risks are hotly debated. On one hand, direct transportation between Taiwan and China would enable Taiwan to become a major sea-transportation hub and turn the nation into an air-cargo and air-passenger transit hub. On the other hand, it could also lead to an influx of goods from China and a backflow of goods manufactured by Taiwanese businessmen in China, resulting in a reduction in Taiwan’s trade surplus, and deflation. In August 2003, Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) announced the results of its assessment on cross-strait relations, which

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was conducted in conjunction with five other government agencies.8 The report analyzed the pros and cons pertaining to trade, industry, defense, and other issues relevant to negotiations, such as how to sharpen Taiwan’s competitive edge, ways to enable the industrial sectors of each side to complement one another, and methods to prevent Taiwan’s job market from being compromised under the impact of the opening of direct links. It was mostly a technical assessment; it did not discuss policy. For example, it lacked a workable plan as to how government agencies would overcome obstacles to direct cross-strait flights, such as whether such flights would be labeled domestic or international. Rather, it stressed that if China persisted in its “one country, two systems” model and considered direct cross-strait flights as domestic routes, then direct flights would be unachievable. Since Chen Shui-bian took power in 2000 his position on the three links has undergone a number of transformations. He has seemed to alter his stance as to whether Beijing’s insistence on “one China” is an obstacle to pursuing the three links, although his opposition to “one China” has not wavered. From May 2000 to May 2002, he refrained from speaking out directly against the “one China” policy, and was willing to authorize private entities to negotiate the three links. In August of 2002 around the time he made the “one country on each side” statement, his stance hardened against “one China” and he would not allow any negotiation of the three links. A year later after Taiwan again failed to gain observer status with the WHO, Chen even more clearly hooked together “one China” and the three links, stating that in the next ten months, cross-strait issues could not be negotiated. Only a few months later, Chen was proposing his own three-phase plan for opening direct transportation links with China.9 Specifically, President Chen’s new plan suggested that the first stage, the preparation stage, for opening the three links was already underway and would last until the 2004 election. During that stage, he hoped that policies relating to the transportation of goods would be made more efficient. As China would be unlikely to allow him any breakthroughs before the election, and had even been said to be boycotting the Chen government in hopes of being able to negotiate with KMT leaders after 2004, Chen set the election as the beginning of step two, the negotiation phase. The third step would be implementation, which would occur at the end of 2004. However, President Chen also made it clear that direct transportation could be negotiated only from a stance of equal footing. If China insisted on the “one China” premise, no progress could be made.


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Why did President Chen’s stance change and then change again? According to his critics, the answer has to do with the election. All along, China had employed the strategy of remaining passive on the three-links issue, even after President Chen’s announcement of renewed efforts. If Beijing made any sort of direct response whatever to Chen’s new overtures, it could only be good for Chen: If China responded negatively, then the responsibility for the failure of direct links would be on China’s shoulders. If it responded positively, it would be a great success for Chen ahead of the election. President Chen would be able to reap political benefits either way simply by being the first to extend the offer. Some of President Chen’s critics interpreted the three-phase plan as President Chen’s acknowledgment that the referendum issue was creating tension with China and in Taiwan’s relations with other countries. Chen had set forth the plan merely to make a show of displaying goodwill toward China. They criticized his plan as insincere and as a check that could not be cashed because although Chen offered increased interaction, he still refused “one China,” without which little progress would be possible. They also disliked President Chen’s plan because it extended beyond his term of office—they felt he was trying to reap the benefits of appearing willing to negotiate with China without having to deliver. They pointed out that nothing had come of similar statements Chen had made shortly after his election in 2000.10 Perhaps they were also peeved that he had managed to steal their thunder. The KMT may have been hoping to play up the benefits of establishing direct transportation links and offer their willingness to deliver as a point of difference with the DPP in the upcoming election—but Chen had beat them to the punch with a promise of the same.

Rocky Relations The DPP celebrated its seventeenth anniversary in Taichung on September 28, 2003 with the themes of legislative reform and the referendum bill. In his address as chair of the DPP, President Chen remarked that the DPP had turned 14 in 2000 and won the presidential election. In 2003, the DPP had been able to establish the legal basis for a referendum.11 In 2004, when the DPP turned 18 and became an “adult,” it would have three major missions: The first would be to hold Taiwan’s first referendum. The second would be to win the presidential election. The third goal would be to gain the majority in the legislature. (Although the DPP currently had more

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seats than any other party, its coalition did not have the majority.) Chen went on to say that in 2006, when the DPP turns 20, he wanted the people of Taiwan to push for a new constitution. President Chen’s call for a new constitution caused a stir in international relations. The next day, U.S. State Department Spokesman Richard Boucher said at a press briefing that he would prefer “not to react to individual campaign statements,” and “we won’t take a position on domestic politics” but that the United States had already expressed its stance on issues relating to cross-strait stability. “We noted in August of 2000, that President Chen pledged not to declare independence, not to change the name of Taiwan’s government, not to add state-to-state theory to the constitution, and not to promote a referendum that would change the status quo on independence or unification.” He went on to say that the United States has expressed “support and appreciation” for the pledge, and “we continue to take it very seriously.”12 Boucher’s words marked the first time a U.S. spokesperson had read out President Chen’s “five no’s” pledge in its entirety. Many saw this action as indicative of the United States’s extreme displeasure with not just President Chen’s call for a new constitution, but also with the fact that the United States was not informed beforehand that such a statement would be made. MAC Chairwoman Tsai Ing-wen reportedly was subject to tough questioning and disapproval in the United States as she explained Chen’s statement to Washington thinktanks. Think-tank members complained, “You guys are really pushing the envelope hard here. [The United States] is in the middle of an attempt to keep a lot of balls juggled, and do you know how complicated and difficult you’re making life for us? . . . Things are very bad, what Taiwan is doing is in effect provocative, and the US is the one that’s going to have to pay for it.”13 The president’s chief aide Chiou I-jen maintained close communications with several Washington contacts and with Douglas Paal of the American Institute in Taiwan over the next few days, explaining that the new constitution would not deal with issues relating to independence or unification with China and would not change the name or flag of Taiwan. It would deal only with domestic political issues such as the size of the legislature, whether Taiwan would have a three-branch or five-branch government, and whether the government would be fundamentally presidential or parliamentary. The argument was that the constitution was now anachronistic inasmuch as it was written in 1946 and still laid claim to all of China as well as Outer Mongolia. The previous administration under the KMT had been unable to address


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real problems with the constitution given the constraint of maintaining its legitimacy. Former President Lee Teng-hui had amended the constitution six times, but still had been unable to complete many of his political reforms. Members of opposition parties immediately voiced their concerns. PFP lawmaker Daniel Huang criticized Chen’s statement as a “ludicrous and laughable fantasy.”14 KMT spokesman Alex Tsai said Chen’s declaration was “setting the timetable for Taiwan independence” and that the KMT and people in Taiwan will not dance to the DPP’s tune. A top aide to PFP chairman James Soong, Chang Hsien-hui, said that since President Chen’s new middle way was bankrupt, he had had to play the independence card as a way of reversing his declining support prior to the election. Many critics considered Chen’s timetable for establishing a new constitution to be proof of his duplicity. When Chen had made the “one country on each side” statement people had suspected him of referring to the PRC on one side and the Republic of Taiwan on the other. All this time the green camp had “pretended” that this was not the case. Now President Chen had said in his own words that he would create a new constitution in 2006, which meant building a new nation. Critics took this to mean that Chen was obviously trying to define next year’s election as a duel between the Republic of China and the Republic of Taiwan. Critics feared Chen’s statement would push Taiwan to the brink of war. Their real anger was not just that Chen had taken such a dangerous action, but that he had done it merely for the sake of the 2004 election; Chen was playing up a potentially explosive controversy because he would otherwise find it difficult to run his reelection campaign on performance issues. The apparent flaw in this argument is that if raising this controversy at this time would be likely to help Chen win the election, then it obviously represented the desires of the majority of the Taiwanese people. Perhaps the pan-blues did realize the flaw in their argument, which would explain their sudden U-turn and change of strategy with regard to a new constitution from defensive to offensive one month after Chen’s announcement. On November 15, KMT presidential candidate Lien Chan unveiled the pan-blue alliance’s own plan to hold a referendum for a new constitution two years earlier than Chen’s 2006 plan. Lien’s “constitutional trilogy” included introduction of the ruling- and opposition-proposed versions of the constitution before February 2004, adding a referendum article to the current constitution after the presidential election in March, and putting the new constitution draft to a referendum at the same time as the legislative

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elections in December 2004. Lien also remarked, “Except on whether to change the official name of the country, the pan-greens and the pan-blues do not differ in how to draw up a new constitution.”15 The DPP immediately pointed out that Lien had earlier said that Chen’s proposal was “nonsense,” and noted that the KMT had denounced Chen’s plan as a dangerous move that would bring Taiwan into a war. DPP members also proclaimed that Lien’s proposal was a rip-off of the DPP’s policy, and criticized it for rushing an important process, explaining that a two-year period would be needed before a referendum could be held. Instead of announcing a ready-made proposal from above and pushing it through, the DPP wanted the process to be bottom–up, which would require much consultation at local levels before grassroots notions could be framed on a national level. Pan-green members likewise charged that Lien had made his irresponsible proposal for the sake of the presidential election. On November 17, 2003, Beijing’s Taiwan Affairs Office released a strongly worded statement against President Chen: “We solemnly warn the Taiwan authorities led by Chen not to cheat and fool the Taiwanese public any more, wake up to the danger at last moment and immediately stop the evil act of splitting the motherland through referendum legislation.”16 The statement accused “the Taiwan authorities led by Chen of colluding with separatist forces and engaging in pro-independence acts under the disguise of popular will,” and warned that such separatist activities constitute a serious provocation of all Chinese people: “Anybody who attempts to split Taiwan from China is set to suffer a heavy blow by the 1.3 billion people of China including our Taiwanese compatriots.”17 Two days later, Wang Zaixi, vice minister of Beijing’s Taiwan Affairs Office (and a general in the PLA), said, “If the Taiwan authorities collude with splittist forces to openly engage in pro-independence activities and challenge the mainland and the one-China principle, the use of force may become unavoidable.”18 He warned that those who think they can seek independence with no repercussion will pay a big price. Both camps in Taiwan responded to Beijing’s strong words with defiance. For example, KMT spokesman Alex Tsai responded sternly, saying “We are a party which follows democratic principles so there is no reason to stop this legislation.”19 He asserted that as a nondemocratic country China does not have the right to discuss Taiwan’s referendum issue; China does not offer the same rights protections as Taiwan; and Taiwan’s internal affairs do not concern China. The Cabinet said China was being irrational and interfering with Taiwan’s internal affairs. Mainland Affairs Council (MAC) Chairwoman Tsai Ing-wen said


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China should mind its own business.20 At a press briefing the MAC spokesperson said that Beijing’s remarks had “seriously distorted the concept of democracy construction in the process of Taiwan’s democratization, and have given rise to cross-strait tension.”21 China’s stern warning also marked a change in its message. It was no longer Beijing’s appraisal of a particular candidate. Now it touched on the larger concept of being unable to explain Taiwan’s unacceptable actions to China’s 1.3 billion people. It became a question of the ability of the leadership of China to uphold the expectations of its own people. It also created a terrible dilemma for the KMT. The latest warnings coming out of China were not aimed at Chen Shui-bian alone; now they were aimed at the KMT leadership as well. The KMT feared losing the support of its pro-Beijing followers, but could do little without alienating the majority of its supporters who would not tolerate the KMT’s appearing to be too close to China’s leadership. In sum, pan-blue leaders found much to be troubled about in Chen’s actions. Critics of Chen Shui-bian charged that his proindependence actions in the form of calling for a referendum and a new constitution had had a twofold impact on Taiwan. First, Chen had soured relations with the United States and other allies with his pro-independence moves. The result had been a necessity to curry favor by giving gifts in the form of padding a military procurement budget and ensuring U.S. businesses received purchase orders from Taiwan. Taiwan’s best interests were not being represented in international dealings. Second, Chen’s actions had riled China and brought Taiwan to the brink of war. Taiwan’s citizens and even the very future of Taiwan were now in a precarious position as a result of Chen’s actions. Chen had also put KMT leaders in an impossible position with regard to their own supporters on the issue of a new constitution. What made these actions even more unconscionable was that in their opinion there was no higher goal or greater good that could come out of them. The only objective was to increase the likelihood that Chen Shui-bian would win the March 2004 presidential election. This criticism has an added moral weight in a Confucian culture and is discussed in greater detail in chapter 4. Chen’s critics saw him as a sole commander, a dictator, manipulating Taiwan’s future with no one powerful enough to stop him.

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C hapter 4

The Defensive Referendum

A person in danger should not try to escape at one stroke. He should first calmly hold his own, then be satisfied with small gains, which will come by creative adaptations. I Ching

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an-blue fears of international condemnation and imminent attack appeared to be materializing as China began to rumble about the “abyss of war.” This chapter examines the basis for these pan-blue fears in the wake of Chen Shui-bian’s decision to hold a defensive referendum. With hindsight it is easy to discount these fears as the eventual announcement of the referendum questions satisfied the international community; tensions lessened, and no crisis materialized. However, the conviction that Chen is a dangerous man willing to take Taiwan to the brink of war remained among his critics and fueled the protests after the elections. The struggle against the referendum also illustrates the critical problems within the pan-blue alliance, namely lack of a clear coherent vision for Taiwan with which to counter Chen’s moves. When the pan-blue-dominated legislature passed the new Referendum Law on November 27, 2003 it was widely touted as a victory for the pan-blues. The pan-blue alliance had vetoed nearly all of the pan-green alliance’s ideas, denying the Cabinet the power to hold consultative referendums, and excluding the issues of sovereignty, territory, and a new constitution from the referendum process. The new Referendum Law also restricted constitutional amendments and citizens’ referendum rights on the nation’s major policies, and provided for a referendum supervisory committee to examine proposed topics for referendums. The DPP criticized the Law, saying it prevented the people’s participation in the referendum process. They labeled it a caged-bird law. Former president Lee Teng-hui observed that the Law put the power of the legislature above the people and infringed on democratic principles. The Cabinet threatened to

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overturn it. Hard-core DPP supporters were extremely displeased with the failure to include a clause that would have allowed for referendums to change the country’s name, flag, and territory. Many of the most fervent DPP supporters felt that Chen was losing touch with the party’s convictions. Two days later the green camp was celebrating again as President Chen announced that his resolve to hold a national referendum alongside the presidential election in March had not diminished. Even before he had signed the bill into law and before the competent authority (in this case, the Cabinet) had set forth implementation rules, President Chen found a way to carry out his promise to hold a referendum. According to the new Referendum Law, the president is entitled to initiate a referendum on national security issues whenever the country faces an external threat that could interfere with national sovereignty. Chen pointed out that as there were currently 496 missiles aimed at Taiwan and the number continues to increase, and as China has tried to isolate Taiwan diplomatically and economically, China’s actions constitute a threat to sovereignty. Therefore, as president he was obliged to put the issue of arms buildup to a defensive referendum to protect the sovereignty of Taiwan. The Cabinet quickly declared the proposed defensive referendum legitimate. President Chen explained that the purpose of the referendum would be to assure the status quo of Taiwan—not to change it; it definitely would not be a referendum on unification or independence. Chen clarified that by “assuring the status quo” he did not mean the status quo of having 496 missiles aimed at Taiwan. Rather, the purpose would be to ask China to withdraw the missiles in order to maintain the sovereignty of Taiwan and peace across the Taiwan Strait. Thus, the only goals would be to ask for peace and make a statement against China’s missiles. Obviously, such a referendum could not be held after China fired its missiles, so there was some urgency to hold the referendum before that happened in order to demonstrate the will of the Taiwanese people to Beijing. Chen added that it was necessary to act now because if nothing is said against the missile threat, and if anger is not shown about the current state of affairs, the next generation might be forced to go to war. Senior DPP officials also pointed out that in the new Referendum Law, the provision for the defensive referendum used the word fangwei and not fangyu for “defensive.” Fangwei refers to a proactive defense, meaning “to take precautions to protect yourself in order to prevent attack.” Fangyu is more passive than fangwei, and refers to defending oneself after being attacked. Thus, the Referendum Law could

T he Defensive Referendum

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legitimately be interpreted as being applicable in the manner Chen suggested. President Chen called for a defensive referendum because this was the only referendum topic available to him under the new Referendum Law; the government was not permitted to call for any other type of referendum. Of course, critics immediately declared that the conditions under which the government could call for a defensive referendum had not been met—Taiwan’s sovereignty was not at risk. They charged that Chen was pushing the referendum solely for the purpose of boosting his chances of reelection and that it was reckless to put the people of Taiwan at increased risk of attack from China for the sake of winning an election. However, if the pan-blues shrieked too shrilly about the wrath of China and the risk of a military strike (heretofore their favorite reason against previously proposed referendum topics) it would be an admission of the existence of the very conditions that would make the referendum unquestionably legitimate. Other major criticisms of the defensive referendum included the argument that since an antimissile referendum would surely enjoy nearly universal support, there was no real need to hold it; that the referendum was another gradual step moving Taiwan toward independence; and that the DPP’s refusal to admit any of this was evidence of their trickery.

Walking the Red Line Portraying the United States’ initial reaction to Chen’s plan for a defensive referendum, State Department Spokesman Richard Boucher said, We oppose any attempt by either side to unilaterally change the status quo in the Taiwan Straits. We also urge both sides to refrain from actions or statements that increase tensions or make dialogue more difficult to achieve. Therefore, we would be opposed to any referenda that would change Taiwan’s status or move towards independence.1

Some critics of the Chen administration suggested that “opposed to any referenda that would . . . move towards independence” might be equated with “opposed to independence.” They supposed that Boucher’s statement was intended to signal increased discomfort on the part of the Bush administration as Chen’s push for a referendum could increase cross-strait tensions at a time when Washington was reliant on Beijing’s cooperation in other world affairs. Chinese-language media in Taiwan reported that the United States was even considering

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restatement of former U.S. President Bill Clinton’s “three no’s” endorsement of China’s line against Taiwan. In the next day’s briefing, Deputy State Department Spokesman Adam Ereli stated that U.S. policy toward Taiwan had not changed: “the US does not support Taiwan’s independence.” But, Ereli would not specify whether “opposed to any referenda that would move toward independence” meant the US is opposed to Taiwan’s independence. China had had little initial response to Chen’s defensive referendum announcement, perhaps wary because previous saber rattling had helped Lee Teng-hui win election in 1996, and Chen in 2000. Ahead of a planned meeting of Premier Wen Jiabao with U.S. President George W. Bush at the White House on December 8, 2003 there were reports that Wen would seek a clearer statement that the United States was opposed to Taiwan’s independence moves. Beijing also recommenced its verbal threats during Bush and Wen’s meetings to convey the severity with which it viewed the situation. High-ranking People’s Liberation Army (PLA) officers warned that if Taiwan’s leadership “refuse to come to their senses and continue to use referenda as an excuse to seek Taiwan independence; they will push Taiwan compatriots into the abyss of war.”2 They stated that China would not hesitate to use force against Taiwan if the island declared independence, even at the risk of ruining its plans to host the 2008 Olympics or pushing its economy back into recession, decreasing foreign investment, worsening foreign relations, or even if it meant casualties for the PLA. It was widely recognized that the Bush administration hoped to avoid instability in the Taiwan Strait while U.S. forces were already stretched thin and Bush was preoccupied with Iraq, North Korea, and terrorism. Some analysts believed that the Bush administration was considering changing its policy toward Taiwan ahead of the meeting with Premier Wen Jiabao, including making a direct statement of opposition to Taiwan independence, especially if Beijing promised full cooperation on other issues. Statements made at a December 9, 2003 joint press conference held just after a second short meeting between Bush and Wen in the Oval Office lent support to this contention.3 Bush said, Let me tell you what I have just told the Premier on this issue. The United States government’s policy is “one China,” based upon the three communiqués and the Taiwan Relations Act. We oppose any unilateral decision by either China or Taiwan to change the status quo. And the comments and the actions made by the leader of Taiwan indicate


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that he may be willing to make decisions unilaterally to change the status quo, which we oppose.

Wen also took a question, responding, Our fundamental policy on the settlement of the question of Taiwan is peaceful reunification, and one country-two systems. We would do our utmost with utmost sincerity to bring about national unity and peaceful reunification through peaceful means. The Chinese government respects the desire of people in Taiwan for democracy, but we must point out that the attempts of Taiwan authorities, headed by Chen Shui-bian are only using democracy as an excuse and attempt to resort to defensive referendum to split Taiwan away from China. Such separatist activities are what the Chinese side can absolutely not accept and tolerate . . . . We very much appreciate the position adopted by President Bush toward the latest moves and developments in Taiwan—that is, the attempt to resort to referendum of various kinds as excuse to pursue Taiwan independence.

As Bush did not correct or object to this statement, many believed that these comments represented a marked change from Bush’s tone in April 2001 when he had said that he would do whatever it takes to defend Taiwan. An editorial in the following day’s Washington Post proclaimed that Bush was kowtowing to Beijing.4 At least one expert who had helped develop Bush’s Taiwan policy found Bush’s remarks “sickening.”5 U.S. Senator Joseph Lieberman said President Bush had turned his back on Taiwan, which he said was an “outrageously unprincipled position for a president of the United States to take.”6 In Taiwan there was renewed concern that President Chen’s actions had not only lost American support, but pushed the Bush administration into siding with the Chinese. Immediately after Bush’s comments, Chen remarked in Taipei that the “realization of a national referendum, which is set to maintain peace and the status quo of the Taiwan Strait, is not only significant to Taiwan’s democracy, but also is very important to the entire Asia-Pacific region and the rest of the world.”7 Critics feared that Chen was irritating both his enemy (China) and his friend (the United States) by violating his “five no’s” pledge by making plans for a new constitution and pushing for a national referendum.8 To them, Bush’s statement showed that he would not accept Chen’s protests that the referendum represented no threat to the status quo. They believed that for Chen to continue to try to convince Bush was an insult to the American government’s wisdom. They charged that few in Washington supported or accepted Chen’s explanations,

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and that Chen was trying to play the Americans for fools in attempting to get them to believe that the referendum’s purpose was to deepen Taiwan’s democracy. Critics were emphatic that the sole purpose of the referendum was to enhance Chen’s chances of reelection. On January 8, 2004, U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell held his first press conference of the year. A reporter inquired about U.S. concern over Chen Shui-bian: “There was no follow-up to the very clear statements that President Bush had made when Premier Wen Jiabao was here. Could you tell me, what has the Administration done to follow up there, and is there a concern that Chen Shui-bian is not hearing the message?”9 Powell responded, Oh, he’s hearing. And the President [Bush] spoke so clearly and forcefully in support of our “one China” policy and based on the three communiqués and our responsibilities under the Taiwan Relations Act, that I don’t know that he had to repeat the message. The message was heard and received, and we will see how Taiwan works itself through the referendum idea a little later on in the spring.

Powell’s statement seemed to indicate that the United States was not likely to change its stance on the referendum, but what did it mean in terms of U.S. involvement in the face of military attack on Taiwan from China? Observations by Dr. Harry Harding, a well-known China studies scholar who was in Taiwan at the time of Powell’s remarks, are elucidating.10 Harding explained that the Bush administration is angry at Taiwan and did not want to have to get Taiwan out of a mess. He observed that if the United States tells Taiwan where the red line is, it is telling Taiwan that there is still a little way to go before it is crossed, which would effectively mean that the United States is encouraging Taiwan to go further. That is, if the United States tells Taiwan what the threshold for military intervention is, it would effectively be the same as telling Taiwan what level of provocation it can tolerate. Dr. Harding went on to describe what he saw as a possible scenario for Taiwan and offered his solution: He said that the worst-case scenario would be that once Taiwan crosses the red line, China would no longer just issue warnings, but would decide to resolve the problem once and for all. Harding believed that if that happened the United States would be forced to get involved, which would mean the start of a war. Harding suggested that although this scenario is possible, a more likely circumstance would be that Taiwan would cross the red line, and Beijing would make a symbolic show of force, and the


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United States would not have any reaction, which would be quite damaging for Taiwan. Harding’s words rang true for a number of Chen Shui-bian’s critics who felt that Chen did not understand the reality of the international situation, that he had misunderstood the sensitivity with which the United States would treat the issue, and that he was unaware that he had reached the red line. If support from the United States was in doubt, then it was far too dangerous to be antagonizing China. The results for Taiwan could be devastating. Further, the reason President Chen had taken advantage of the defensive referendum provision was to maintain the DPP’s steadily building momentum; Chen could never consider abandoning his plans for the referendum because, at this key moment of the election campaign, it would have meant a crushing defeat. Thus, in the eyes of many of his critics, the defensive referendum was the DPP’s biggest political play—and there was no going back. In their opinion, the best course of action for Taiwan would be to withdraw the referendum plan, yet they also saw clearly that there was no way that President Chen could do this and still remain a viable candidate in the March election. In their eyes, that he continued on this course of action purely for the sake of reelection was akin to treason. As the referendum bill became law on December 31, 2003 a number of Taiwan’s allies voiced concern over President Chen’s proposed defensive referendum for March. Japan’s de facto embassy in Taiwan conveyed a message to the Presidential Office saying Japan does not favor Taiwan’s holding of a defensive referendum. The European Union also sent a letter expressing concern. A U.S. State Department spokesman issued a new warning, “Clearly we have said that we oppose any unilateral measures that affect the current status including this referendum.”11 To some it seemed that President Chen Shui-bian had severely misjudged international opposition and fallen into diplomatic isolation. They distrusted the positive spin offered by members of the Chen administration: as the issue had become a matter of international concern, it was helpful in promoting Taiwan’s visibility on the world stage. As part of an all-out effort to address misunderstandings, the Chen administration began making plans to send high-ranking delegations to visit allies in mid-January to allay fears over the referendum and explain that neither their allies’ interests nor the status quo would be endangered. On January 6, the National Security Council convened a public hearing to announce that three delegations would be sent from Taiwan, to the United States, Europe, and the Asia Pacific region to

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meet with media think-tanks and academics, to exchange opinions on Taiwan’s relations with other countries and cross-strait issues, as well as to discuss the defensive referendum and the presidential election. The Taiwan delegations were to listen carefully to issues and doubts raised by their allies, and relay these concerns to Taiwan. After unveiling this plan, the Presidential Office spokesman emphasized that American concerns would be considered, and reiterated that the United States is an important friend of Taiwan. American Heritage Foundation fellow John Tkacik, in Taiwan for think-tank discussions, observed that although the U.S. government would be unlikely to endorse Taiwan’s defensive referendum, the time was right to send a delegation. Tkacik went on to explain that in his view the communications problem was on the American rather than the Taiwanese side. “President Chen has made an effort to craft the concept of the defensive referendum to meet the American concerns,” Tkacik said, explaining that “some senior U.S. government officials understand Chen’s efforts, but the understanding has not gone through to U.S. President George W. Bush because ‘iron guards’ surrounding the president led him to be ‘misinformed’ of Taiwan’s referendum plan.”12 One of the missions of the proposed delegations may have been to consult with other nations on the matter of what questions the proposed defensive referendum should ask Taiwan’s citizens to consider. Tkacik pointed out that if Taiwan was seeking U.S. cooperation on that matter, it may be disappointed. Because of its own interests in other parts of the world, the United States would likely have no interest in discussing the wording of Taiwan’s referendum because it would not want to be seen as cooperating with Taiwan or endorsing the referendum. Tkacik appears not to have been too far off the mark. The United States did not seem to want to clarify its position on any aspect of the referendum. While the U.S. State Department spokesman was willing to reiterate that “the point that we make consistently and that is not going to change is that referendums that are aimed at changing the status quo are something that we oppose,” he was not willing to clarify whether the United States took the position that the proposed defensive referendum would change the status quo.13 The European delegation departed as scheduled on January 8. Upon its arrival in Paris, a Taiwanese diplomat stationed in Europe remarked that the European Union understands that the United States has interests in the Taiwan Strait and therefore has a deep respect for the American position on the referendum; in effect the EU


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is following the United States on this issue. The focal point of communication had to be the United States. The departure of the U.S. delegation, however, was deferred. The Presidential Office announced that a trip to the United States at this moment would be unlikely to yield better results for improved understanding on the issue, noting that a total of 21 delegations from the United States had recently arrived in Taiwan to exchange views, and that “the US’s utmost concern is whether Taiwan is conducting an independence referendum, and we have already assured the US that such a referendum will not take place.”14 Until the exact content of the referendum was announced there was little more that could be accomplished by the delegation as both sides had already made themselves clear. Opposition leaders believed that cancellation of the delegation on the eve of departure was proof that the plan of lobbying for support from foreign governments had failed. Chen had been adamant that the United States swallow the referendum pill, so the United States had responded in kind. They urged President Chen to abort the referendum plan, charging that the president “had lost credibility not just in Taiwan but also in the international community,” and they worried that “the government’s failure to help maintain a favorable environment at a time when many Asian nations will ink free trade pacts with China in 2004 could make Taiwan more marginalized.”15

The Referendum Questions and Domestic Debate A week later on January 16, 2004 in a televised statement, President Chen announced the two questions to be presented in the March referendum alongside the presidential election. He first pointed out that since he had come to office he had fully honored the “five no’s” pledge, but that during that same period China had continued to increase deployment of missiles targeting Taiwan.16 China’s purpose is unquestionably obvious, that is, they aim to change the status quo in the Taiwan Strait through undemocratic and unpeaceful means. . . . In order to prevent China from using force against Taiwan and therefore, unilaterally changing the status quo, I have proposed a referendum for peace to be held on March 20 . . . [which] represents an effective preventive measure, as it will help increase people’s awareness of and readiness for such threats, while actively seeking to maintain the status quo.

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T aiwanese I dentity and D emocracy I would like to hereby announce the questions that will be put to the people of Taiwan for the peace referendum on March 20: (1) The People of Taiwan demand that the Taiwan Strait issue be resolved through peaceful means. Should China refuse to withdraw the missiles it has targeted at Taiwan and to openly renounce the use of force against us, would you agree that the Government should acquire more advanced anti-missile weapons to strengthen Taiwan’s self-defense capabilities? (2) Would you agree that our Government should engage in negotiation with China on the establishment of a “peace and stability” framework for cross-strait interactions in order to build consensus and for the welfare of the peoples on both sides?

In a February 3 address to foreign media in Taiwan, President Chen clarified the legal basis for his call for a national defensive referendum:17 The constitution clearly endows the responsibility of safeguarding national sovereignty and defending national security on the President. In order to fulfill my constitutional duty and consolidate the will of the people, I have proposed a referendum on matters concerning national security in accordance with Paragraph 1, Article 17 of the Referendum Law. To safeguard national sovereignty and defend national security is my solemn duty, as is my commitment to allow the people of Taiwan to be masters of their own land. Taiwan faces the world’s most severe missile threat. It is anticipated that by 2005 China will have deployed a total of 600 ballistic missiles targeted against Taiwan, and the accuracy of their missiles will be greatly enhanced, to the extent that they will be capable of striking all major military bases in Taiwan with little or no warning. China is increasing its missile arsenal against Taiwan at a rate of one every six days. We must quickly establish a consensus on strengthening our antimissile capability to prevent a military imbalance between the two sides of the strait and to protect the livelihood and welfare of the people. This referendum reminds the people of the severity of China’s missile threat and the urgency of enhancing our anti-missile capability. We must make it known to China and the international community that the people of Taiwan will not be coerced, we will not cower in the face of intimidation, and we stand resolute.

With regard to the second referendum question, President Chen went on to point out that throughout history there have been numerous conflicts resulting from sovereignty issues and so there is precedent for use of negotiation as the means of establishing guidelines for settlement of conflict.18


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These precedents of the peace process share the following features: (1) Parties to the process are not subordinated to each other; (2) Commitment to resolving all differences by peaceful means; (3) Recognition of each other’s sovereignty, political independence, and the right to existence in environments free from threat or acts of force; (4) Third-party participation to assist and monitor the peace process.

President Chen said that after March 20 he would invite China to work toward the initiation of cross-strait negotiation in light of the “One Principle and the Four Major Issue Areas.” The one principle entailed both sides’ recognition that maintaining peace in the Taiwan Strait is a joint responsibility, agreement that any dispute must be resolved by peaceful democratic means, and willingness not to change the status quo unilaterally. The four major issue areas were (1) establishment of a negotiation mechanism, (2) exchanges based on equality and reciprocity, (3) establishment of a political relationship, and (4) prevention of military conflict. Statements from Secretary of State Colin Powell and White House spokesman Scott McClellan suggested President Chen’s proposed referendum questions were less aggressive than expected. For example, at a press briefing McClellan said, “As a matter of principle we are not opposed to referenda, but nor will we endorse any specific referendum. We understand, however, that there would be no relationship between the outcome of the proposed referendum and Taiwan’s commitment to the status quo.”19 While President Chen’s decision on the referendum questions may have reduced resistance from abroad, it seemed to generate even stronger criticism at home. The legality, appropriateness, and necessity of the referendum issues were all questioned by Chen’s opposition in Taiwan. The first argument against holding the referendum was that Article 17 of the Referendum Law was being applied inappropriately, so the announced referendum was illegal. According to Article 17, there are two necessary conditions for holding a defensive referendum. The first is a foreign threat. The second is the concern that sovereignty is at risk. The pan-blue alliance believed neither of these conditions had been met; so they slammed the proposal saying, “It is but a joke, an illegal referendum.”20 They claimed that because the referendum was illegal, those holding it would be charged and fined, and so they urged the heads of cities and counties not to go along with it. They criticized Chen for abusing for personal gain the right to call a defensive referendum.

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A second argument, put forward by Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou, a KMT deputy chairman and also a legal scholar, was that Article 17 was itself unconstitutional. He suggested that Article 17 does not contain a sufficient check on presidential power as intended by the constitution. Under Article 17 the president has the right to initiate a referendum, which then must be endorsed by a Cabinet resolution. The Cabinet provides the only check; there is no provision for a check by another constitutional body, which, Ma argued, violates the spirit of Taiwan’s constitution. If Chen insisted on holding the referendum, the pan-blue alliance said it would request an interpretation of the constitution from the Council of Grand Justices. On the basis of showing respect for law and justice, Chen should suspend the referendum until the Council of Grand Justices handed down an interpretation. The pan-blues also said they would push ahead with an overhaul of the Referendum Law to revoke the president’s power of initiating referendums. In fact, before the election the pan-blues neither worked toward amending the Referendum Law nor called for adjudication of the Law by the Council of Grand Justices, perhaps because having themselves already pronounced judgment that the referendum was illegal and unconstitutional they suspected it could only be harmful to their cause to have an authoritative ruling on the matter. The pan-blue alliance next offered the argument that even if the legality and constitutionality issues are set aside, if it is really as President Chen thinks that Taiwan is under imminent foreign threat to sovereignty, it would mean there is an imminent need for a defensive referendum. The referendum should be held immediately. How could President Chen possibly justify waiting until the presidential election to hold it? Critics also questioned the proposed referendum from a political angle charging that the government could already make the policy decisions covered by the content of both referendum questions without a referendum. Therefore, it was basically unnecessary to go through the time and expense of holding a referendum. They suggested it would be better “to vote the content of Chen’s referendum question—without altering a word—into a resolution when the legislature convenes its new session on February 6.”21 They claimed that such a legislative resolution would also express public opinion, so there would be no need to hold the expensive referendum, which would cost around NT$500 million (US$1.5 million). While it is true that Article 20 of the Referendum Law stipulates that if the legislature adopts measures corresponding to those in a referendum proposal,


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the referendum should be called off, it also clearly states in the Law that this provision does not apply to defensive referendums. Another charge was that a policy to increase the number of defense missiles was already being implemented. Specifically, according to the Ministry of National Defense position paper released in preparation for the referendum, no matter what the results of the March 20 referendum, its plan to purchase advanced antimissile weaponry systems would not be affected.22 Given that the military purchases would not be affected, there was no need to hold a referendum alongside the March 20 presidential election. To take a policy that was already being implemented and to put it to a referendum would be utterly meaningless. Not to mention the fact that ordinary people have no way of answering this sort of question; it requires professional expertise. While the argument that the outcome of the referendum would not impact military purchases sounds convincing, it may also be misleading. The purchase that would not be affected and to which the defense minister referred was an NT$500 billion (US$14.7 billion) advanced antimissile deployment plan the defense ministry had been working on since 1997, which would also be used to pay for the submarines, aircraft, destroyers, and antimissile Patriot PAC-3 systems that U.S. President George W. Bush had promised in 2001 to sell to Taiwan. The referendum question dealt with future defense reinforcement projects, not those already committed. Likewise with regard to the second referendum question on opening negotiations with China, some critics believed that Chen’s course of action would be the same no matter what the outcome of the referendum. They reminded people that when Chen was elected in 2000, he had openly announced his desire to negotiate with China and to establish a cross-strait task force headed up by Lee Yuan-tze, a Nobel laureate and Taiwan’s most respected scholar. However, they felt President Chen had moved in the opposite direction. President Chen’s refusal to negotiate included denying the 1992 consensus (“one China” interpreted by each side in its own way), saying that this consensus between the two sides fundamentally did not exist, and refusing to accept “one China.” With this attitude no cross-strait negotiation could proceed. In the view of his critics, President Chen’s persistence with the “one country on each side” statement and his emphasis on Taiwan’s sovereignty ensured that the cross-strait stalemate would not be resolved if he were reelected no matter what the result of the referendum. If no actual changes could occur as a result of the referendum, then, as many pan-blue supporters charged, the only possible objectives of the

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referendum questions were to allay U.S. fears and sway voters to gain votes. In other words, not only was the referendum a way to win votes, it was an empty promise, as once the election was over there would be no need to follow through; there would be no changes to policy or action. Instead, the DPP would have accomplished its objective of winning the election with the added benefit of taking a step toward its political agenda of establishing referendums as a democratic mechanism in Taiwan, a thinly veiled step toward independence.

The Pan-Blue Quandary Shortly after President Chen’s announcement of the referendum questions, a spokesman for China’s Taiwan Affairs Office made a statement very similar to the pan-blue arguments: Chen Shui-bian had continued to push the referendum despite the interests of the people in Taiwan and universal opposition by the international community. Chen has used peace and democracy as camouflage to push for the referendum, heightening tensions between the people on either side of the Taiwan Strait and sabotaging cross-strait relations.23 Beijing also advanced the schedule for its annual symposium commemorating former Chinese President Jiang Zemin’s 1995 eight-point speech entitled “Continuing to Strive Toward the Reunification of China,” which emphasized the development of relations between China and Taiwan toward eventual peaceful unification. Beginning in 1996, Beijing has held an annual symposium on Jiang’s eight points and used the occasion to issue important Taiwan policy statements. In 2004, Taiwanese media were allowed to attend for the first time. In his keynote address for the meeting, Chinese State Councilor Tang Jiaxuan said,24 Though the leader of the Taiwan authorities called the referenda “defensive” and “peaceful,” this provocation, no matter how it was packaged, can only cause confrontation and animosity between the two sides, aggravate the already strained relations and push them further to the brink of danger. . . . Instead of a deepening of Taiwan’s democracy, it is a design to mislead and manipulate the Taiwan people.

He suggested that cross-strait negotiation could proceed under the “one China” principle, which dictates that both Taiwan and China are part of one country. We will continue to implement the policy of placing our hope on the Taiwan people . . . . We treat all Taiwan compatriots equally, regardless of their provincial origins. We do not discriminate against those who are


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adopting a wait-and-see, a suspicious, or even a negative or antagonistic attitude toward closer cross-Straits relations. . . . As long as a person does not cling tenaciously to the “Taiwan independence” position, we will exchange views with him and work for greater mutual trust through better communications.

Tang said that in recent years Taiwanese leaders have refused to accept the one-China principle, denied the 1992 consensus, advocated such separatist propositions as “one country on each side,” pushed for incremental Taiwan independence, and even put out a timetable for Taiwan independence, thus seriously eroding the foundation for closer cross-Straits relations and posing a grave threat to peace and security in the Taiwan Straits.

In Taiwan, the tone of response to Tang’s speech was defiant. A Mainland Affairs Council spokesperson quickly countered: “Tang’s words are again a deliberate twisting and misinterpretation, and his attempt to thwart democratic development in Taiwan is evident.”25 President Chen pointed out that in Eastern Europe there are some countries that had previously been Communist countries, but they had been able to hold referendums, so why not Taiwan? He asserted that the right to hold a referendum is a permanent and basic democratic core value. Vice President Annette Lu remarked that Tang’s comments did not represent anything new. China’s opposition to Taiwan’s referendum exposed China’s fear and guilty conscience. In fact, she believed every county has already accepted Taiwan’s referendum. She cited a line of Chinese poetry to describe the referendum situation: You can still hear the monkeys calling from the mountains on the shore, even though the riverboat has already passed them by. The boat represents the referendum. The monkeys represent those who raise their voices against the referendum. The monkeys are still chattering to each other about the boat, which has already sailed past them on the river. They can do nothing about it, and yet they still screech. And the reaction of pan-blue politicians? It is interesting to note that they also urged China to be calm about the matter. For example, although the KMT legislative whip urged President Chen to “deal cautiously with the situation” because of cross-strait tension and misunderstanding in the international community; he also urged Beijing to deal with the matter calmly and not attempt to intervene in the March 20 presidential election.26 Lien Chan urged China to remain dispassionate in dealing with the upcoming election, stressing that China’s leaders

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would influence the emotions of the Taiwanese people, which would benefit Chen Shui-bian. PFP Chairman James Soong said that the referendum is a right of Taiwan’s people, and no foreign power’s interference should be tolerated. Of course, Lien and Soong also continued to voice their opinion that there was no legal basis in the Referendum Law for Chen’s actions, and that the referendum was unnecessary, the timing inappropriate, and that it was stirring up international unease. The pan-blues were again in a terribly difficult position. It had been necessary for them to appear pro-referendum, so they had passed the law, but they had never intended that the DPP be able to use it. They had thought it would be controllable. Now that they had lost control, they could not easily adopt a pro-referendum stance as this was the pan-green position. However, the antireferendum stance was not a popular one. People wanted the referendum, and they wanted to support Taiwan. Given the lack of widespread support for their position, why did the pan-blues continue to oppose the referendum? In addition to a genuine belief that the referendum could lead to war or that it was unlawful or unconstitutional, one reason might have been that establishing the precedent for holding national referendums would challenge the implicit framework held by many pan-blue leaders for achieving unification: negotiation between the elites of China and the elites of Taiwan, with no input from the people of either country. After a referendum was held on any topic it would be much harder to proceed with such a course. Another reason might have been that they did not want to hand Chen any sort of victory shortly before the election. A third reason might have had to do with election tactics. While confident of victory in the presidential election, there may have been an awareness that in the event they did not win, the illegality or unconstitutionality of the referendum might be used to overturn the election. It is also worth noting that although, by 2004, the consensus in Taiwan was that overall the referendum would benefit Chen Shui-bian’s presidential campaign, at the time Chen set the course for a referendum, it was not at all clear that this would be the case. For all Chen knew at the time he announced his intention to hold a referendum with the March election, it could have sunk his chances of victory. The topic of holding a national referendum had long been a delicate issue in Taiwan. Referendums were banned under martial law (1949–1987), and could not even be discussed until Lee Teng-hui rose to power during the late 1980s. Even then, referendums were not proposed as political tools but as social ones, and only local-level referendums were held concerning


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public policy, including one sponsored by President Chen Shui-bian as mayor of Taipei.27 Serious discussion of holding a national referendum did not begin until 1992 on the topic of whether Taiwan should seek readmission to the United Nations.28 As the main opposition party to KMT rule, the DPP saw that referendums could be used as a tool to strengthen direct democracy. When in 1991 the DPP considered amending its party platform to make the independence of Taiwan an explicit goal of the party, Chen Shui-bian suggested that the issue should be decided through a national referendum based on the principle that sovereignty belongs to the people. Chen, along with many others, had long pushed for the opportunity to hold a national referendum, facing opposition not only from the majority in the KMT, PFP, and NP, but also from many DPP members, who feared that lack of popular support could cause it to backfire and lead to DPP losses in the next election. The fact that a national referendum was held in 2004 was made possible only because in May 2003, Chen Shui-bian decided to stake his future and the DPP’s hold on power on a national referendum. The result was better than the DPP could have hoped for. The people of Taiwan were clearly ready for such a step, much to the despair of the pan-blues. In fact, according to one political columnist in Taiwan, Chen was able to take the lead in all policy areas by talking about referendums, so much so that the pan-blue camp, having first tried to steal the limelight by attacking the state of the economy, had to keep changing tack to keep up with him . . . . Referendums became a battleground in which Chen demonstrated his willpower and his creativity, and both inside and outside the party, no one had any choice but to enter the fray.29

Although the referendum could not be held on the target issue of “one China” or some such theme, it still had great significance in terms of unifying Taiwan’s people, sending a message to the international community and setting a precedent for the use of a national referendum in Taiwan. Furthermore, throughout the process Chen Shui-bian was able to demonstrate resolute leadership and political vision in resisting boycotts from the pan-blues and international pressure; he never backed down. In contrast, Lien seemed to have trouble sticking to a consistent course of action, making him appear weak and at the whim of the cross-currents within his own party.


C hapter 5

The Referendum Debates

When it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached, don’t adjust the goals, adjust the action steps. Confucius

The Referendum Law stipulates that the Central Election Commission

(CEC) should hold at least five national televised debates on the issue prior to holding a national referendum, although it does not explicitly specify whether or not this requirement applies to a referendum initiated by the president under Article 17 of the Law. In the face of extreme rancor between the ruling and opposition parties on the legality of holding a referendum and the appropriateness of the two questions, the CEC called for ten televised debates, five on each question, in order to allow the public a better understanding of the issues.1 These debates were to take place in the month before the referendum and presidential election on March 20. The debates would pit the Cabinet, which was charged with implementing the referendum, against legislators or civic groups that opposed the Cabinet’s views. Cabinet officials responded that there was no need for such debates as they were not required under the Referendum Law, but that they were not opposed to them. The premier promptly selected ten Cabinet members to represent the administration’s stance. Pan-blue lawmakers, however, were strongly opposed to the debates inasmuch as they opposed not the content of the referendum, but the referendum itself. As the pan-blue campaign’s spokesman explained, “Referendums are held to decide controversial or difficult issues, but the two questions proposed by the president are neither controversial nor difficult. It [the referendum] is not only illegal but also unnecessary, inappropriate and not at all urgent.”2 The pan-blue alliance resolved to let the Cabinet go it alone in the debates to show the public “how the Chen administration is abusing national resources by holding the ten debates and how ridiculous it is that it [the

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administration] insists on pushing ahead the referendum all by itself,” but a KMT legislator remarked that the KMT caucus “would participate in the debate if the party were to represent the side supporting the referendums.”3 In the end, the opposition legislative caucuses decided not to submit a list of potential debate candidates to the CEC. As these comments suggest, the pan-blue stance on the referendum was more complex than simply being opposed to the referendum on principle. While PFP leaders such as Chairman James Soong announced that they would boycott the referendum, some KMT leaders, such as Legislative Yuan Speaker Wang Jin-pyng, a KMT vice chairman, announced they would participate, and others such as KMT Chairman Lien Chan and Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou (also a KMT vice chairman) were initially cagey as to what they would do. The pan-blue unwillingness to join the debates may have stemmed from this dissent within; or, it may have arisen from the desire not to be labeled “antidemocratic” or “antireferendum” just prior to the election. Sources close to the pan-blue leadership intimated that the pan-blue parties had been unable to come up with ten people who would be able to carry off such debates. With over a decade of experience as the opposition, the DPP had a great wealth of members who were articulate and experienced with debating. A number of key DPP leaders were lawyers skilled at verbal exchange. In contrast, the panblue parties had not cultivated these skills among their leadership. While many were talented bureaucrats, they were not debaters; thus the pan-blues may have feared being embarrassed and defeated in these debates, which gave them another reason not to participate. Subsequently, a number of independent legislators and former DPP members, including two former chairmen of the DPP, as well as a number of political commentators and groups labeling themselves “neither pan-blue nor pan-green” stepped forward to participate in the debates. Many of these independent intellectuals had stood solidly with the DPP in its formative years as it fought to break the KMT’s authoritarian grip on power. However, after Chen Shui-bian had become president in 2000, they no longer wished to identify themselves with the DPP, and had begun to speak out against the Chen administration instead. Many were idealists who had pursued basic freedoms for many years hoping to establish real democratic politics in Taiwan. In their opinion, as soon as Chen Shui-bian had become president, he had immediately focused on the next presidential election; he took advantage of every public-relations opportunity, and made many beautiful and touching speeches, but he had accomplished little and been

T he Referendum D ebates

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unable to or uninterested in keeping his campaign promises. They were disappointed that their ideals could not be fulfilled more quickly. From their point of view, the combination of the referendum with the presidential election went against the basic value of freedom. That is, they fully believed that the purpose of Chen Shui-bian’s referendum was not to allow independent citizens to show their rational choice, but rather to achieve a personal political goal. They did not believe that the end, even if they agreed with it, justified the means. Although those who stepped forward to oppose the referendum in the debates identified themselves as independents; their reasoning on the referendum issue was quite similar if not the same as that of the pan-blue camp. However, despite their similar reasoning on the issue, the groups of independents by no means accorded with one another. There were even reports of physical conflict between groups over who would face off with the Cabinet officials in the debates. In the following, a sample of the content of some of the debates is provided to allow insight into the arguments of each side. Arguments presented by debaters that repeat those outlined in the previous chapter are omitted. Most did not argue the particular question under debate, but instead focused on the legitimacy and appropriateness or the overall effect of the referendum itself. An undercurrent in many of the debates was a theme of Taiwanese consciousness, with those supporting the referendum endorsing the idea of enhancing a sense of national identity as inherently beneficial, and those opposed to the referendum either discounting national identity or piercing through to what they saw as an ulterior motive behind a populist appeal. Since it was not really the questions at hand that were being discussed but wider issues of identity and face, no real consensus emerged from the debates. Many felt that the debates only reflected a heightened sense of discord in the wider population. Moreover, the sense of uncertainty and conflict only increased throughout the debates as some members of the CEC clashed with the Cabinet amid charges of illegal and unconstitutional actions, and the CEC made a series of flip-flops on the basic procedures for carrying out the referendum and judging the validity of the ballots.

Developing Democracy or War Mongering? The first debate on February 29 was between Presidential Office Spokesman Lin Chia-lung and independent legislator May Chin of the Atayal aboriginal tribe, a former actress.4 They focused on the first

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referendum issue of enhancement of national defense. Lin’s main argument was that the referendum represented the next step in the development of Taiwan’s democracy and the most peaceful way to send a clear message to China and the rest of the world. Chin took an antiwar stance saying Taiwan’s money would be better spent on programs for aborigines than weapons. Lin Chia-lung emphasized that Taiwan’s first national referendum was the fruit of a long struggle for democracy. He evoked the previous day’s successful hand-in-hand rally, a two-million-person human chain that stretched 500 km through 18 cities and counties in western Taiwan to express Taiwanese people’s affirmation of Taiwan’s national identity and rejection of China’s missile threats. Lin pointed out how fifteen years ago the three Baltic states, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia had formed a two-million-person chain to protest the former Soviet Union’s occupation, and had followed their protest with referendums to declare their independence from Russia, and argued that, on election day, the Taiwanese people should carry forward this momentum with a referendum to announce to the whole world their determination against China’s missiles. According to Lin, the referendum would be the cheapest, most effective way for Taiwan to consolidate public consensus, gain support from international society, and demonstrate democratic power. He also made an appeal to the pride of the Taiwanese people. “In the WHO meetings the Chinese officials just say, ‘Who cares about you?’ It deeply hurts the Taiwanese people. Taiwanese people will never forget this. . . . What we want is genuine peace, not compromise or humiliation disguised as peace.” He pointed out that in Taiwan’s history none of the foreign powers that had ruled Taiwan—not the Dutch or the Chinese or the Japanese—none had the agreement of the Taiwanese people. He portrayed the KMT as just another foreign power, saying that the KMT had not asked the consent of the Taiwanese people either. Lin cast the referendum as a way for Taiwan’s people to finally speak out, saying that only if the government strengthens its defenses can Taiwan sit with China at the negotiation table with equality and dignity. Legislator May Chin took a different tack. She assumed a strong antiwar stance, saying that the DPP government would not only bring Taiwan to the brink of war, it would also sacrifice Taiwan’s aborigines. Chin remarked that after reviewing the Cabinet’s referendum report, she felt that that the government’s ability to see the future had fallen behind that of the aborigines. She introduced a Paiwan (head-hunting)


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tribe war song that is more than 1,000 years old. The first two lines of this song are: Who asked you to cut off other people’s heads? It serves you right. Now, they are going to cut off your head.

“It is a war song, but it is an anti-war song. It is meant to warn people not to try to stop war by waging war—not to try to control force through the use of force.” Chin suggested that if politicians consider only their own political future, they may try to lead their people to use war to stop war or to control force with force. “The result is that we all go against each other—war becomes unavoidable.” Chin described what she called the “untouchable formula” used by the current leadership to justify weapons build-up: “The Chinese will certainly attack us. Therefore, we must protect Taiwan. Protecting Taiwan requires the purchase of weapons from the United States.” Her argument was that weapons are not a practical way to counter overwhelming military threat, and that the government should reallocate the military procurement budget to social welfare and help underprivileged groups, especially aborigines. Her reasoning was that as China’s military threats have been around for many years, there is only one reason the DPP government wants to buy more weapons now and that is “that they want to kiss the US government’s ass.” Like Lin, Chin also drew on Taiwan’s history of colonization to make her point. More than 300 years ago the Dutch invaded Taiwan and established a colony. They took many resources from Taiwan to the Netherlands. One hundred years ago the Japanese took control of Taiwan. They also established a colony and took resources to supply their war. In Taiwan robbery is the basis of colonization. Today we still have this kind of government. We send hundreds of billions of dollars to the United States. We are still colonized by the United States. However, they have improved their colonization skills. The United States has a representative—it is the Taiwanese government.

Legislator Chin asserted that the referendum is aimed at cheating the public into endorsing the government’s weaponry procurement and that the DPP had “kidnapped the Taiwanese people” and forced them to embrace its ideals. Chin oddly proposed that cross-strait tensions could be easily resolved if Taiwan purchased a ballistic missile from China with a 10-year warranty.

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The Big Picture Versus the Farce The second debate on February 29, 2004 was between the Cabinet’s representative Kaohsiung Mayor Frank Hsieh and writer and political commentator Li Ao, a dissident who was jailed in the 1970s during the KMT regime and who was the New Party presidential candidate in 2000. Their topic was the second referendum issue concerning opening negotiations with China.5 Mayor Hsieh suggested that although there may be specific arguments against the two referendum topics, Taiwan’s interests as a whole had to be considered ahead of those lesser arguments. He echoed Lin’s previous contention that the people of Taiwan feel pained but helpless in the face of pressure from China as they have had no opportunity to speak out against the 496 missiles aimed at them. Instead they have had to remain silent out of concern for China’s reaction and international concerns. Hsieh suggested, “This is the sadness to be a Taiwanese.” Use of this phrase is significant as it casts the referendum as part of Taiwan’s long and tragic struggle for self-determination. It recalls a 1994 interview with Lee Teng-hui published in the Independence Evening Post in Taiwan entitled “The Sadness of Being Taiwanese,” in which Lee labeled the KMT an alien regime and called for modification of the constitution and democratic transformation. It also taps into a body of old Taiwanese songs that portray a collective feeling of deep sadness in being Taiwanese under colonial rule. The metaphor employed in these songs is often that of a female victim.6 Mayor Hsieh portrayed the March 20 referendum as a historical event, and went on to point out that if the referendum did not pass, international society would consider that Taiwanese are not unified and that they lack self-confidence and resolve for recognition. He emphasized that if the referendum failed, the government would still have to negotiate with the Chinese, but from a much weaker position. “If we are not unified the Chinese will look down on Taiwan and the situation will be hopeless.” At this key moment, Taiwan needs everyone’s vote to show its determination. “We should witness your love for Taiwan together to remember the spirit of Taiwan as first priority and come together as one.” Hsieh contrasted unity, love for, and pride in Taiwan (the referendum passes) with loss of face and low selfconfidence (the referendum fails). Li Ao’s counter tactic was to push the DPP’s argument for holding a referendum to its logical conclusion to show how absurd it was. He asserted that the government would have to sort out Taiwan’s


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national identity issues before it would ever be able to negotiate with China, and claimed that Taiwan now faces the problem that the ruling party has declared Taiwan independent (in their own party charter), but it is unclear whether they really want to carry it out. If the DPP wants to hold a referendum on changing Taiwan’s official name or on independence, Li argued, then they should just do it directly instead of going through with the farce of a defensive referendum. Li emphasized that, according to Hsieh’s own argument, logically there was a need to call directly for a referendum on independence or on changing the name of Taiwan—not a defensive referendum, because as soon as any negotiation is opened with China, the “one China” principle and Taiwan’s identity would have to be dealt with. It would be impossible to open negotiations with China without having addressed that issue. Li challenged Mayor Hsieh to call for a Taiwan independence referendum, saying that if Hsieh would do so he would support him. Li Ao’s point was that if you are going to talk the talk, you should walk the walk; if you are not willing to accept the name Republic of China, then you should urge the Taiwanese people to stand up for what they want directly, and not muck about with meaningless defensive referendums.

Self-Confidence Versus Political Strategy Taiwan Solidarity Union Legislator Lo Chi-ming represented the administration’s position, and former Control Yuan member Yeh Yao-peng, a former DPP legislator, argued against the strengthening national defense question in a debate on March 7, 2004.7 Legislator Lo focused on the great significance of a unified statement by Taiwan’s people for Taiwan’s future security, while Yeh mainly focused on the unconstitutionality of the whole referendum and the importance of political strategy. Legislator Lo pointed out that a U.S. evaluation of China’s military had already warned that Beijing is prepared to launch military action against Taiwan at any moment and that even the advertisements of the People’s Liberation Army clearly use a slogan about liberating Taiwan as soon as possible. Lo asked how anybody could overlook China’s intentions: “Don’t we have the right to say ‘No’ to China?” He complained, “Those who oppose the referendum have spared no effort in denouncing President Chen, but they have said nothing to blame China.” Lo pointed out that the American Congress had looked favorably on a proposed resolution entailing a broad declaration of support for

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Taiwan and its democracy, and specific support for the referendum. The European Union had also recently vetoed a proposal to lift the arms-sales embargo against China and signed a proposal calling on China to remove the missiles targeting Taiwan. Why would the United States and European community support Taiwan? Lo answered his own question: “because they endorse peace.” Lo’s argument was that because the international community was showing support for Taiwan, Taiwanese need no longer be afraid; they should have confidence and show their own unified support for Taiwan. Lo suggested that there is no reason for the Taiwanese to be against the referendum no matter how they intended to vote on the presidential ballot. “If the result of Taiwan’s first referendum is invalid [due to insufficient participation] or if more than half of the participants vote ‘no,’ then how could Taiwanese people expect the international community to assist Taiwan in defending them against China in the future?” Yeh Yao-peng countered that the DPP attempt “to sway the public using emotional discourse, such as by saying the referendum is a universal value and a mechanism to secure Taiwan’s sovereignty” was a way of avoiding rational discussion. He offered up the three main points discussed in chapter 4 as providing grounds to refuse to participate in the referendum on March 20: Article 17 of the Referendum Law was unconstitutional, the conditions to call for a referendum had not been met, and the results, no matter what they were, could not impact government policy. Yeh also made an argument against using a military strategy to ensure Taiwan’s security. He pointed out that China’s overall military power would soon overtake Taiwan’s capabilities, and questioned whether the weapons purchased from the United States could really defend Taiwan from China. If not, he asserted that Taiwan’s security could only be established through political strategy, and not a military strategy. That is, Taiwan’s defense should be established on the basis of a world security system. According to Yeh, President Chen’s decision to initiate the referendum had already negatively impacted the security of the Asia-Pacific region and cross-strait stability and aroused opposition from the United States and Europe. “Cross-strait security is closely related to worldwide security and Taiwan should not unilaterally influence the world’s security,” he argued. Yeh’s point was that as part of the global security system, “whether or not we can buy missiles, has nothing to do with the referendum.” As an example, Yeh described how former president Lee Teng-hui had tried to buy submarines from the United States. He was not successful


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during his term of office; it was only after Chen was elected that the Americans agreed to sell submarines to Taiwan. “Our weapons purchases are not established on the basis of our needs, but on American war strategy. In other words, they depend on American interests. This is the international reality.”

National Defense Consciousness Versus Expert Decisions DPP Legislator Julien Kuo, who earned a Ph.D. at Yale in political science, debated UFO Radio Chairman Jaw Shaw-kong, cofounder of the New Party, for the fourth debate on missile defense, on March 14, 2004.8 Kuo’s main point was that voters need to endorse the nation’s defense policy in order to demonstrate public consensus and Taiwan’s determination to defend itself. Jaw argued that national defense policy should be decided by experts, not the public. Legislator Kuo pointed out that the value of an antimissile system is greater than its simple weapons functions. He emphasized that “although Finland, Singapore, and other countries lack resources and are surrounded by strong enemies, they have a strong national defense consciousness.” According to Kuo, the referendum would not only build up a national defense consciousness for Taiwan, but Taiwanese people could also make themselves heard internationally through the referendum. Kuo argued, “International society does not really understand anything about Taiwan’s domestic quarrels. They did not see the February 28 hand-in-hand rally as a campaign event, but rather as Taiwan’s rejection of China. The international community’s stake in the referendum is whether Taiwanese people can speak out to the world.” If the referendum did not pass, Kuo suggested it would be a serious blow to the relationship between Taiwan and the United States, as well as for cross-strait relations and the international image of Taiwan. He suggested that the United States and other allies and even China would hold Taiwan in contempt if the two referendum questions were rejected because they would think that Taiwan is not wholehearted about defending itself and therefore would not sell Taiwan the best weapons or be consistent allies. Kuo also advocated joining the United States-initiated theater missile defense (TMD) system. By doing so, “Taiwan could form military and political relations with the US and Japan, and the conflicts between Taiwan and China would become international issues.” Once Taiwan joined the TMD, the Chinese would be unable to use missiles

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as a strategic threat without risking full-scale war. TMD would enhance the tactical missile abilities of Japan, Korea, and Taiwan. It would influence the overall strategy of China with regard to unification. Kuo made a final eloquent and emotional appeal: Without public opinion as a rearguard, China will not take attempts to establish channels seriously. Without a formidable national defense as a rearguard, there can be no cross-strait peace. . . . Last September during the “call Taiwan Taiwan” rally 200,000 people stood up. Last October, despite dire warnings a massive pro-referendum rally was held and 500,000 people stood up. This year on February 28, we broke a record in the hand-in-hand event with 2 million people standing up. On March 20, let’s continue to demonstrate the power of democracy with the referendum. Ten million people can stand up and say together, “defensive missiles, peace, equality.” No matter which side you stand on, please support the point of view of the ROC. Stand on the side of Taiwanese democracy. Stand on the side that says Taiwan will not lose. Support the March 20 referendum.

Jaw Shaw-kong agreed that Taiwan, like Japan, needs to protect itself from China. He advocated an Asian alliance as the most effective method to achieve this goal, stressing the importance of considering overall international strategic values instead of a single procurement deal. However, Jaw argued that the defensive missiles of today can only protect against the offensive missiles of yesterday. He feared wasting public funds on ineffective weapons, suggesting that the defensive missiles Taiwan plans to buy have a low intercept rate. In the Persian Gulf the Patriot PAC-3 missiles were only effective nine percent of the time and they also knocked down friendly missiles. . . . Furthermore, America’s allies such as European countries and Canada do not even want this type of missile. South Korea does not want them either. Only Israel wants them, provided they are free.

Given their low success rate, Jaw asked how many defensive missiles would be enough to counter the nearly 500 missiles China currently has aimed at Taiwan. Furthermore, how reliable would the United States be in providing these weapons? What if they decided to end sales? Jaw said he did not oppose purchase of defensive missiles, but on the matter of weapons purchases, the people of Taiwan should respect the defense ministry’s expertise; national defense strategy should not be decided by referendum. He cited the government’s concern that


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illiterate voters in southern Taiwan would be unable to fill out their ballots. To address this concern Chen Shui-bian’s presidential campaign had begun teaching voters how to mark their ballots. To indicate support for Chen Shui-bian as president, the number to chop on the ballot was “1”, and for each of the two referendum issues voters were to chop next to an “O” to indicate support or next to an “X” to indicate opposition. Thus, the Chen campaign taught voters to remember “1OO” when marking their ballots. Jaw criticized the practice saying “if these people cannot even read, how can they make important decisions regarding national defense policy?” Jaw’s conclusion was to advocate freedom of choice as to whether or not to participate in the referendum. He concluded by revisiting Li Ao’s remarks challenging the pan-greens: “If you want to hold an independence referendum, then do so.” He recommended that if it failed, then the pan-greens should drop the matter for ten years, but “if it passes, China will attack us. I am a captain in the army. Although I have passed the age of being a reservist, I would still go to fight. I was born a Taiwanese, I will die a Taiwanese. We can fight to the last man.”

Power of the People Versus Political Manipulation In the last of the ten televised debates, Mainland Affairs Council Chairwoman Tsai Ying-Wen went up against independent Legislator Sisy Chen on March 14.9 During KMT rule, Tsai had held numerous government positions. When the DPP took power, she took over Taiwan’s cross-strait policy department, and only became a DPP member in 2004. She is considered one of the administration’s best debaters. Sisy Chen was formerly a DPP publicity chief, but had now become firmly allied with the pan-blue camp and was the driving force behind the pan-blue camp’s publicity. She was currently one of the DPP’s sharpest critics and also a flamboyant TV political talk-show host. The pair debated the cross-strait negotiation question. Tsai’s main point was that as cross-strait relations are dynamic, the primary focus should be on establishment of a framework for long-term interaction to create trust and avoid misunderstanding, rather than on an ultimate solution to the cross-strait situation. Sisy Chen argued that any negotiation by President Chen would be ineffective as his framework failed to address the key issue of negotiation. Tsai Ying-Wen noted that China’s growing economic power helps it to pressure other countries to isolate Taiwan. Under these dynamic

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conditions, she felt that Taiwan could no longer make use of the approaches used in the 1990s to open a dialogue with China. In the past, the military and political rivalry across the Taiwan Strait was primarily influenced by the thoughts of the leaders on either side of the Strait. Since the 1990s exchanges and trade have increased, forcing a new outlook on cross-strait relations. The trend in cross-strait policy is toward greater reliance on public opinion.

She emphasized that a referendum result favoring dialogue would bolster Taiwan’s position in any talks with Beijing, since it would show that the government is backed by the public. This trend toward an increased role for the people in cross-strait dialogue would then continue to hold in the future regardless of the party in power in Taiwan. In order to face China’s authoritarian government, people in Taiwan have to present a united front, and the referendum would be a mechanism for achieving this goal. “History has taught us that the smaller nation in negotiations needs the support of the people to turn things to their advantage,” Tsai said. “With the people’s support, the Chinese Communists would have no opportunity to force us to unify, and our government will have more confidence in negotiations.” Tsai asserted that the two referendum questions transcend party lines, ethnicity, and position on independence versus unification. They could ameliorate both regional and international prospects for peace. To oppose the referendum would only send China the wrong message of what the cross-strait situation is. It would give the impression to international society that the Taiwanese are not resolved to defend themselves. Passing the two referendum questions should improve the possible outcome of negotiations between Taiwan and China. Sisy Chen believed that the referendum question did not at all address the fundamental problem in negotiations with China, which is the inability to reach agreement on the “one China” principle. She asserted that before any talks can happen, some consensus on this topic must be achieved. Given that the question did not address this key issue, Sisy Chen argued that the result of the referendum could change nothing. “If the two sides could just sip tea and chat, then they would have held hundreds of rounds of talks already,” she said, explaining that cross-strait issues are too complicated to be resolved through a referendum. “The dispute will continue raging no matter whether we cast our ballots in this referendum or not.” She charged that the Chen administration wanted to achieve a high degree of consensus on this issue only in order to show the international


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community that the people have a high level of support for the president. She criticized the referendum as being calculated election ploy. She condemned President Chen for his lack of responsibility and his thirst for power, citing his flip-flops on the three-links issue as evidence of his manipulative nature. She surmised that “based on Chen’s predilection to say different things to different audiences, it is obvious he does not want to resolve the cross-strait issue, and that anything he says is only for personal political benefit.”

Referendum Perspectives Nearly all debaters addressed the referendum itself rather than the merits of the questions posed. The pro side mostly talked about the intangible and psychological benefits of passing the referendum. They emphasized democratic development, the universal value of referendums, love of Taiwan, face, self-confidence, national defense consciousness, and the political benefits of a yes vote. Some of those in favor of the referendum even admitted that there were questionable aspects to holding the referendum, but still felt that as an expression of resolution against China the referendum is Taiwan’s most effective weapon. They also saw the referendum as a tool for consolidation of public consensus that was important for international relations so that the United States would respect Taiwan, and China would not act like a bully. In addition to the legal and constitutional arguments presented in the previous chapter, the opposing side pointed out several tangible reasons, such as how the money could be otherwise spent, not to participate in the referendum or to vote against the referendum questions. Several highlighted their belief that the referendum was an election ploy, and that it could incite attack from China. Some asserted that Taiwan’s security should not depend on military buildup and weapons purchases, but on cross-strait peace and global security, neither of which would be enhanced with the referendum. The opposing arguments also reflect nearly all of the major personal complaints about Chen mentioned in previous chapters—he is manipulating Taiwan’s people through the referendum to grow Taiwanese consciousness and win reelection, he is selling out Taiwan’s best interests in effort to get the United States to support the referendum, and he is pursuing this course not out of ideological conviction, but for personal benefit. Foreign perspectives on the referendum are also worth noting. Lord John Alderdice, deputy president of Liberal International,

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a world federation of liberal political parties, commented during a visit to Taiwan that in the weeks preceding U.K. involvement in the war on Iraq, Prime Minister Tony Blair told British citizens that Sadaam Hussein might have the capacity to launch warheads that could arrive in Britain from Baghdad within 45 minutes. The result of that announcement was the decision to go to war. It later turned out that Sadaam had no such weapons. In contrast, in Taiwan, where we know without any shadow of a doubt that it is a question of seven minutes, not 45 minutes. It’s not a question of maybe there are [missiles], maybe there aren’t. It’s quite clear. And what’s the result? The result is people holding hands across the island. The result is having a democratic referendum. . . . That’s not going to war. That’s a very peaceful way of expressing people’s views. I think it is a very reasonable and constructive way to respond.10

Alderdice also observed that those who complain that the referendum is illegal, or say the wording or questions are wrong generally do so because they believe that holding a referendum will not be beneficial to them and their goals. “These are very old political tricks that are made all over the world. We all see them everywhere.”11 Similarly, others noted that it is not credible for the opposition to call the referendum illegal when they had not even submitted it to the judiciary for a ruling on its legality or constitutionality. On the other side, it was pointed out that the questions appearing on the referendum are not the kind usually put to a referendum as they concern issues that should simply be a matter of executive policy. Further, some international observers noted that the referendum was being used in a way that seemed to have implications in the election, which is not advisable as the issues put forward in the referendum get mixed with other political considerations. For example, Bruno Kaufmann of the Initiative and Referendum Institute Europe (IRIE) said, There is a big risk that these issues are not really being discussed and that the referendum is seen more as the political parties and political leaders’play. [This sort of referendum] does not really give the people a big say.12

Despite these downsides and the possible flaws in the Referendum Law, the ruling party’s urgency to put the new law to use was recognized. Chen Ching-chih, a research fellow with the Los Angeles-based Institute for Taiwanese Studies, recalled a lesson from history of


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pertinence to Taiwan’s situation and President Chen’s perception of imminent threat. On March 13, 1938, Austrians were preparing to vote on whether Austria should be annexed by Nazi Germany. Unfortunately, they did not get to exercise their fundamental right due to the fact that Adolf Hitler’s storm troopers entered and occupied an independent, sovereign Austria the day before the vote.13

Bruno Kaufmann of IRIE likewise observed, “I would say it is better to use the tool now than not to use it, because if you never use it, you cannot learn to make it better next time.”14

Tying the Referendum to the Election Two weeks after the Referendum Law went into effect on December 31, 2003, President Chen’s announcement of the two questions to be posed in the defensive referendum triggered heated discussion over their relevancy and urgency. However, the referendum questions and even the necessity of the referendum itself were not the only points arousing cross-party rancor. The way in which the referendum was to be conducted was also a major point of contention that added to an overall feeling on the part of many of Chen’s critics of intensifying social conflict plus added concern that the government was transgressing the law. Background on this conflict is provided as an example of the pan-blue’s claim that President Chen is ripping apart the fabric of Taiwanese society and that he is a dictator who disregards Taiwan’s laws and constitution. The Cabinet and the Central Election Commission (CEC)15 argued over who had the final say on the manner in which the referendum would be carried out. The CEC claimed to have the authority to decide referendum details such as the form, color, and design of the ballot as well as whether or not polling would occur in the same locations as presidential polling. The Cabinet, however, said that the CEC was merely the executing agency, and that as the competent authority for referendums, it had the final say on such matters. Actually, the split was not so much between the Cabinet and the CEC, but among CEC commissioners. The majority of commissioners spoke out in support of the Cabinet as the competent authority responsible for determining guidelines for conducting a referendum. They advised their fellow commissioners to respect the intent of the Cabinet in handling

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referendum matters. A minority of commissioners disagreed wholeheartedly, and felt the Cabinet had overstepped its bounds in making suggestions to the CEC. In the eyes of the pan-blue alliance and pan-blue media, the former group “heeded all instructions from the Cabinet,” while the latter “made decisions based on independent considerations and their practical experience in handling election affairs.”16 One of the more contentious issues was whether the two referendum questions should appear on separate ballots. The CEC had advocated a single ballot per voter until the Cabinet stepped in with the recommendation that the questions be printed on two separate ballots and in two different colors explaining that using separate ballots would minimize disagreements over tallying ballots and eliminate the problem of deciding whether a ballot could be considered valid if a voter answers just one of the two referendum questions. On February 5, 2004 the CEC held a marathon seven-hour discussion of the details of the referendum and the election. Due to a strongly contentious atmosphere, they were unable to reach a consensus on many sensitive topics. In the end they could only vote. While this might seem hardly worth noting, to some CEC commissioners and Chen administration critics it was an occurrence of historical importance. In Confucian cultures, an extremely high value is placed on harmony. Disruption of harmony may in itself be considered an unethical action. If a certain group or person is perceived as stirring up conflict, it can easily be construed as evidence of a lack of ethics. Furthermore, the CEC had heretofore maintained a tradition of attaining unanimity in all of its decisions, so failure to reach a harmonious conclusion seemed evidence of underhanded influence. Some commissioners critical of the government even went so far as to label those supporting the Cabinet “a bunch of red guards.”17 The only female member of the CEC, Wang Ching-feng, an attorney and former member of the Control Yuan, submitted her resignation on February 6 to protest the “Cabinet’s meddling in the commission’s business.”18 In her opinion the Cabinet had illegally disregarded the independence and the authority of the CEC. She felt that whereas previously CEC members had been independent rational thinkers, now they were just a bunch of government yes-men. All CEC members have a legal background, and so she reasoned they must all be aware that the Cabinet’s actions were not legal. As a former member of the Control Yuan, she wondered why it was not taking steps to investigate the series of illegal actions. The short answer to her question is that it was unclear there was anything for them to investigate. Even if it were illegal for the Cabinet


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to dictate conditions to the CEC, it would not be illegal for the Cabinet to make suggestions. As a majority of CEC members supported the Cabinet’s recommendations, their decision to go along with those recommendations could hardly be illegal. However, this charge of illegality was frequently echoed by pan-blue supporters in the weeks before the election. The issue of the law and how it should be applied in the face of conflict is addressed in chapter 10. In response to these charges, Cabinet Spokesman Lin Chia-lung explained the conflict saying, “While the commission adopts a joint consultation approach during its decision-making process, it’s normal and healthy to hear different opinions from commission members.” He added, “It is unfair, however, for commission members who share different viewpoints and fail to win the endorsement of other members to claim that they’re suppressed by others and to paint others as the government’s mouthpiece.”19 KMT and PFP lawmakers joined in the attack, charging that the Cabinet had interfered in the CEC’s preparatory work for the referendum, concluding that “the intervention discredits a democratic election,” and considering “taking the premier and other officials to court for their infringement of laws by commandeering the referendum plan.”20 The result of the CEC’s long and contentious meeting was the announcement that voting for the referendum and presidential election would be held in the same polling stations. Each eligible voter would receive three ballots upon entering the voting booth (one for president, and one for each referendum issue), and each ballot would be a different color. Each referendum ballot would be printed with a statement of the referendum question, and two blank squares one with an “O” above it, and one with it with an “X” above it. Voters could make a chop mark below the “O” to “agree” or below the “X” to “disagree.” There would be a separate ballot box for each of the three ballots. Staffers at all voting booths would first count the ballots for president. The results would be withheld until after all of the referendum ballots were also tallied so as to be able to include presidential ballots miscast in referendum boxes. Even after these details were decided intense disagreement continued. Some complained that the symbols “O” and “X” also carry overtones of “right” and “wrong,” so the use of “X” to indicate disagreement might affect the fairness of the vote. (In Taiwan, “O” is used instead of a checkmark to indicate correct answers.) Others felt that the presidential and referendum voting should not be held at the same locations; they should be separated or riots could break out due

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to delays in announcing presidential election results. A third complaint was concern about riots due to conflict over tallying presidential ballots that turned up in referendum ballot boxes. Citing such concerns, a couple of (pan-blue run) county governments and the Taipei city government announced they would take referendum arrangements into their own hands. Miaoli County declared a plan to prepare dual voting stations for presidential and referendum polling citing fear of social and political chaos if the ballots were cast at the same locale. “The referendum and the presidential election are two different events, which are regulated by different laws. We must be careful not to make any mistakes, which could cause conflicts and lead to a riot,” explained Ku Chen-ching, chairman of a local election commission.21 Ku said his plan was aimed at reducing risk and simplifying the procedure. After hundreds of protesters gathered outside the county election commission to voice their dissent, Ku resigned, saying his “proposal was ignored, and he was repeatedly bullied and intimidated by people opposed to his proposal, adding that some even came to his office to call him names.”22 He later changed his mind and decided to stay on in his post. Taipei’s election commission designed a plan to hold referendum and presidential election polling at the same location, but split the procedure into two separate steps so that voters first cast the presidential ballot and only then receive and cast their referendum ballots. DPP Taipei city councilors criticized the separation of the votes as violating the principle of privacy of voting and a threat to voters’ civil rights. Separation would allow observers to note whether or not particular individuals take a ballot for the referendum. As participation in the referendum itself was a big issue, pressure could be applied to individuals to participate (or not) by their employers or family members. Given the former prevalence of vote-buying and intimidation practices there was genuine reason for concern. Bruno Kaufman of the IRIE observed, Everybody will see who is not going. People may feel controlled by some local politicians who know them. It is not real secrecy in the vote. It should be a basic thing that people should be free to vote as they want without somebody seeing what they are doing.23

Indeed, after the election there were reports of isolated incidents of people interfering when they saw a family member picking up a referendum ballot. CEC Chairman George Huang clarified that the city and local governments are required to obey the central government’s decision, and


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Premier Yu explained that the decision to have the presidential and referendum ballot boxes in one station was made “out of consideration to voters’ convenience, and to save money.”24 He further advised that if local election officials violated central government regulations they would be punished according to the law, with the most severe punishment being termination of employment. He also reminded the opposition that under the Election Law it is illegal to discourage referendum participation. Any persons organizing a boycott of the referendum or standing in front of polling stations to discourage referendum participation would be held legally responsible for their actions. Of particular concern were the constantly repeated pan-blue warnings of violence in the face of voting uncertainties. While there were no overt threats, the intimation was clear. There was a great commotion when Chinese-language media quoted pan-blue lawmakers as saying that President Chen intended to invoke martial law if confronted with postelection violence. Pressure mounted on the CEC, and there were calls for the chairman to resign. In the face of such vociferous opposition, the CEC reversed its decision to have presidential and referendum ballots cast together and determined that the ballots would instead be cast separately so as to minimize errors during the voting process. However, the CEC upheld its original decision that presidential ballots miscast in referendum boxes would be considered valid. Many pan-blue legislators criticized the decision to count ballots for the presidential election mistakenly cast in referendum ballot boxes as valid. They pointed out that with the new decision to separate the polling, which greatly reduced the possibility of miscasting ballots, the stipulation was no longer necessary, and pushed for its removal. On March 10, the CEC met to reconsider the issue with the result that they acquiesced to pan-blue demands. Miscast ballots would be considered invalid. The next day, after a second meeting they reversed this decision, and again declared miscast ballots would be deemed valid. They cited Article 60 of the Election Law, which specifies only a few conditions under which a cast ballot can be legitimately considered invalid. Putting a presidential ballot in a referendum ballot box was of course not listed among them. The CEC suggested that since there are no rules in the law governing this event, it would not be right to deny a person of his or her vote. Every ballot is sacred. The choice expressed on each ballot should be respected. The CEC felt that even if it takes longer to announce the final results of the presidential election, it would be the right thing to do. “In short,” CEC Chairman George Huang said, “a valid ballot is valid wherever you find it. Similarly, an invalid ballot is invalid anywhere.”25

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Huang also explained that although the act of purposefully miscasting a ballot is illegal under the Election Law, a miscast ballot could still be considered valid. Polling station personnel would try to ensure that ballots went into their proper boxes, and anyone refusing to correctly cast their ballot would be handed over to the police. He also explained that ballots in the presidential ballot boxes would be counted first, but the final result would not be declared until all ballots in the referendum boxes were also examined. He acknowledged that this procedure would delay announcement of the official results of the election by two or three hours. Lawmakers of the KMT and PFP immediately declared the decision ridiculous and claimed that a ballot cast illegally could not possibly be valid. Some warned that the two-stage vote counting would leave room for cheating at polling centers. The pan-blue alliance campaign spokesman warned of chaos in the event of a close outcome and charged that the CEC chairman had caved in to political pressure. Vice-presidential candidate James Soong observed that “if [President] Chen insists on counting as valid ballots found in the wrong ballot boxes, then he is acting just like the dictator Hitler.”26 A number of pan-blue lawmakers made their way to the CEC to protest the miscast ballot decision, charging that the resolution was illegal. They also went to the Control Yuan to present evidence that the decision was illegal. The Control Yuan initiated an investigation that very afternoon. The legislators also signed a petition to formally request that CEC Chairman George Huang resign. Huang convened a special meeting again on March 15, just five days ahead of the election, to reexamine the issue. The CEC again reversed its decision—miscast ballots would now be considered invalid. Eleven of the sixteen commissioners attended the meeting, and the resolution carried seven to three with one abstention. Afterwards complaints appeared in the media that George Huang had strategically convened the meeting a day earlier than scheduled and given only short notice, making it impossible for four members to attend the meeting. The constant bickering and flip-flops and dramatic calls for the resignation of various officials demonstrates the pan-blues’ claim that the holding of the referendum was disruptive to society. As many Chen administration critics saw it, the referendum was being forced on the Taiwanese people and being held in a way that violated the laws and constitution of Taiwan. That they were not successful in their quest to control the course of the referendum is their evidence for their claim that Chen Shui-bian is an unstoppable dictator. Critics hold the


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referendum up as an example of populist politics drawing on Taiwanese consciousness to boost Chen’s campaign. In the next chapter, we examine other events surrounding the election that were subject to similar criticisms, and the pan-blues’ own attempts to harness the power of the people.


C hapter 6

Expanding Taiwanese C onsciousness

If you eat too fast you may bite the rice bowl. Taiwanese adage

T

he rise of Taiwanese consciousness, the view of Taiwan as its own entity and not as an appendage of China, seems almost inevitable in light of Taiwan’s economic growth and political reform. The people of Taiwan have their own unique set of experiences and share a common destiny. Psychological identification with each other and their land and its history is a natural development. But does psychological identification imply national identity? From the viewpoint of the traditional Kuomintang (KMT), all people of Taiwan can be regarded as “New Taiwanese.”1 This perspective, which has been expressed by James Soong on numerous occasions, can be equated with a broad view of Taiwan that disregards provincial awareness.2 It is completely separate from any question of national identity. It is focused on the unity of the people living in Taiwan, on inclusiveness, and consensus and identification with Taiwan and its future. It emphasizes commitment to the island and the common experience of having come to Taiwan from China, no matter when that occurred. All residents of Taiwan are considered as one. In this view, Taiwanese consciousness has nothing to do with Taiwan independence. In fact, the People First Party (PFP) has stated that it is passionate for Taiwanese consciousness but does not see Taiwan independence as an option. Lien Chan himself categorically stated in a press conference for foreign correspondents shortly after his return from a visit to China in early 2005 that Taiwanese consciousness does not equal Taiwan independence, and Taiwan independence separatists do not equal the Taiwan people. In contrast, many in the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) and Taiwan Solidarity Union (TSU) see Taiwanese consciousness as part

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of a rising nationalism. That is, to them, Taiwanese consciousness is a natural part of nation building—the shared ethnic identity of the Taiwanese is enough to define the nation of Taiwan. Although some politicians have professed that the concept of “defining one’s self as Taiwanese” is about 400 years old, evidence suggests the collective idea of being Taiwanese did not emerge until the 1920s, when Taiwanese activists resisting Japan began to conceptualize Taiwanese as a colonized people who needed to struggle for home-rule.3 Prior to Japan’s occupation, individuals in Taiwan were most connected with their own land, and identity was regionally based; in the decades following the Japanese arrival, people resisted Japanese control in defense of their hometowns rather than out of any sort of national consciousness.4 In the 1920s, people began to define Taiwan as a collectivity, and Taiwan was used in writings and names of social and political groups. However, this conceptualization of Taiwan as a unit was still more about distinguishing Taiwan from Japan and not so much about a distinction between the people of Taiwan and the people of China: “Even if they promoted the idea of Taiwan independence, and their notion of Taiwanese Nation was clearly distinct from the Japanese Nation, the Taiwanese Nation was not to be different from, and were mixed up with the Chinese Nation.”5 Historically the conceptualization of the Taiwanese as a people was not necessarily tied to the idea of Taiwan as a nation. Under Japanese rule, Taiwanese activists used ethnic markers to build a broader sense of collective identity among Taiwanese. Once the KMT came to power, ethnic distinctions between rulers and ruled were less distinct. However, lack of differentiating ethnic characteristics does not reduce the case for a separate national identity of Taiwanese. Ethnicity may also be defined in terms of collective memory construction. That is, once people identify a certain group as their own, they construct their similarity with that group with a bias toward shared characteristics. Constructing a sense of common ethnicity through shared representations requires control of the dominant viewpoint of social events and history through the media, education, and government. For example, the Japanese tried to assimilate the Taiwanese by increasing Taiwanese identification with Japan through requiring schooling in Japanese and banning Chinese-language publications. During its rule the KMT tried to achieve a shared sense of Chinese ethnicity by controlling the content and language of education in Taiwan to reinforce Chinese identity. They introduced Mandarin, which few Taiwanese could speak, as the national language of Taiwan.

E xpanding Taiwanese Consciousness

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However, the KMT also used differential treatment to reinforce a distinction between waisheng and native Taiwanese. This differentiation became a marker for political mobilization. It fertilized the seeds of Taiwanese consciousness not just among the elite, who were deprived of opportunities to participate in the power structure, but also among the farmers, fishermen, and shopkeepers, who suffered KMT exploitation and crackdowns. From this perspective, the KMT recolonized, and not decolonized, Taiwan. There is no question that the DPP and Chen Shui-bian have been specifically fostering Taiwanese consciousness and a separate Taiwanese identity and nation. For example, an analysis of Chen’s 2000 inauguration noted that the title of Chen’s inaugural address, “Taiwan Stands Up,” borrowed from Chinese Communist leader Mao Zedong’s 1949 declaration that “The Chinese people have stood up,” and that by using this phrase Chen “was signaling to Beijing that what he did on May 20 was similar to what Mao did half a century ago: proclaim the birth of a new nation.”6 Control over social perception of events and history is only one component of identity construction. It is also important to have something to organize against so as to be able to use “us versus them” discourse to enhance distinctions between the in-group and others. When members of an in-group perceive themselves to be under threat from an out-group, in-group homogeneity increases to protect the cohesion and integrity of the in-group. Having an opponent is a powerful way to build internal cohesion. The KMT was this opponent in the early formation of the opposition. It provided the “them” (waisheng Taiwanese) against which the “us” (native Taiwanese) could come together. DPP leaders have used the theme of shared suffering to build support. The theme is appealing because it reaches across all socioeconomic strata to unite people of different interests under a common cause. It was effective only because it represented the experiences of the general population and only because there was real grassroots support and protection were native Taiwanese elites able to gain enough momentum to break through the KMT grip on power. But, have the native Taiwanese elites really represented the people? Have they listened to the people and proposed policy to address their needs? Has there been ground–up input? Or, have the elites merely adopted the pretense of social protest and stirred up people’s emotions with talk about Taiwanese consciousness in order to push their own agenda and gain power? Many critics feel that the latter is the case. For example, when Lee Teng-hui talked about Taiwanese wanting to be

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the masters of their own identity, some saw it as merely Lee’s way of building Taiwanese consciousness to lay the groundwork for his “special state to state relations” declaration. Critics claim that this sort of Taiwanese consciousness is not just about emphasizing Taiwanese interests, as the PFP has advocated, but also about establishing a new identity. Critics charge that Lee Teng-hui took Taiwanese consciousness and twisted it to his own purpose. According to the pan-blues, the referendum debates are further evidence that Taiwanese consciousness is being purposefully manipulated in a conspiracy to further a political agenda. Their fear is that not only is Taiwan consciousness being misused, but that in the process the opportunity for rational debate on important topics is lost. That is, rational debate over Taiwan’s future becomes irrelevant when emotions are invoked. While pan-greens may see emerging Taiwanese consciousness as part of a national defense awareness or as a weapon against China, many of Chen’s critics simply see such emotional appeals as a populist manipulation for the benefit of the DPP in pursuit of Taiwan independence. Critics point to several large-scale events organized by the DPP as playing an important role in fostering Taiwanese consciousness. What they objected to was not so much the reinforcement of a sense of shared identity among Taiwanese, but rather, as they saw it, that these events fortified Taiwanese consciousness by casting it in opposition to Chinese consciousness and by painting the pan-blue challengers as people who do not love Taiwan or as traitors willing to sell-out Taiwan. The result, they charge, is a dangerously divided society in which emotions and not rational discussion prevail in national policy decisions. In this chapter we examine the relation between Taiwanese consciousness and the pan-green rallies as well as the pan-blue camp’s own attempts to harness the power of the people just prior to the election.

The “Call Taiwan Taiwan” Rally On September 6, 2003 the Alliance to Campaign for Rectifying the Name of Taiwan organized a large-scale parade and rally to raise public awareness that “Taiwan” should be used as the name for the country instead of “Republic of China,” which is often confused with the “People’s Republic of China.” Conveners said that the rally was not meant to represent any particular political party and suggested that it was in the common interest of all Taiwanese that the nation’s name be corrected. Thousands of people from all over Taiwan chartered buses to Taipei to participate. Over 130,000 marchers gathered at seven


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points around Taipei to begin their march through the streets carrying large banners that read “enter the United Nations under the name Taiwan.” They shouted, “Go Taiwan!” and sang local folk songs such as “My Mother Is Taiwan.” The marchers converged on the square in front of the Presidential Office for a series of speeches and activities and to hear former president Lee Teng-hui’s keynote address, which was made only in Taiwanese and so excluded many waisheng Taiwanese from understanding. Lee said that the ROC is not a normal country and pointed out that in the past it had been bullied: We can not change the past, but the future name of this country can be chosen by its people. The ROC is just a moniker and not a country in itself. Taiwan has only temporarily given over its name to be the ROC, just as in the past, Taiwan’s governance has been given over to foreign powers. The Taiwanese people should decide what to call the country.7

Lee Teng-hui went on to suggest that a name change “would only reflect the reality that the Republic of China has already ceased to exist.”8 While President Chen did not attend the rally, and even chose to attend activities in southern Taiwan during the rally, he did remark that if he were not the president he would participate in the march himself, and that he would have liked to take his grandson with him. President Chen’s critics noted that Chen also went out of his way to say to reporters that he was president of the ROC. They pounced on the statement as evidence of Chen’s proclivity for two-handed campaigning. They felt that he had endorsed the rally to reassure the more hard-core members of the green coalition while also taking care not to upset the more moderate supporters by affirming his acceptance that he was president of the ROC. Another criticism was that as a change of name could not be accomplished without China’s consent, and as China would never consent, the only possible reason for holding the rally at all was to boost President Chen’s chances of reelection. That is, the rally could have no real effect; it could only reassure the more extreme DPP supporters while also provoking China. If China reacted in any significant way, it would likely further consolidate support for Chen. Thus, many critics charged that the rally was held purely for the benefit of Chen’s campaign. Critics attacked Chen’s “unreserved support” and “vigorous backing” of the rally with four main complaints. First, they charged that his support was inappropriate inasmuch as the purpose of the rally was elimination of the name of the country of which he was president.

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KMT Chairman Lien Chan pointed out that the responsibility of the leader of the ROC is to safeguard its existence, not eliminate it. Second, critics feared talk of a change of name would certainly invite great threat to national security and disrupt cross-strait stability, which would impact relations with allies. Third, they asserted that Chen’s endorsement of a rally to change Taiwan’s name contradicted his 2000 inauguration pledge not to push for such a change. The final complaint is more subtle yet more far-reaching. The issue of Taiwan’s name demarcates a line that separates supporters of Taiwan-centered awareness from those who affirm the existence of the ROC. For example, TSU Chairman Huang Chu-wen addressed TSU supporters at a prerally near the main event saying: “If a person says that he is a Taiwanese, then he is a genuine Taiwanese; but if a person says that he is a Taiwanese and also a Chinese, then he has fallen into the trap of China’s cherished ‘one country, two systems’ rhetoric.”9 Many pan-blue supporters see this type of language as objective evidence of the ethnic divisiveness of the pan-greens. Lien Chan even attacked President Chen for supporting the name-rectification rally saying the leader of the ROC should be a uniter not a divider.10 The complaint is that a name change would not allow for the peaceful coexistence of Taiwanese consciousness and Chinese consciousness. PFP Chairman James Soong countered the call for a name change with his own recommendation. What the Republic of China needs is a rectification of its heart, which is more urgent than rectification of its name. [Rectifying the ROC’s heart] means to be sincere in safeguarding its existence, to love its people, to be firm in belief, and be a loyal follower of Sun Yat-sen’s doctrines, which say democracy is of the people, by the people, and for the people.11

In the wake of the successful “call Taiwan Taiwan” rally, two counter rallies were held the next day organized by the Alliance to Protect the Republic of China and the China Reunification Alliance. Their “Anti-independence Save Taiwan” event attracted only around 7,000 participants. Organizers urged the government to pay attention to worsening social and economic problems instead of creating conflict via ethnic issues.

Hand-In-Hand across Taiwan The single biggest event during the presidential campaign was the February 28, 2004 “hand-in-hand across Taiwan” activity. The goal


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of the event was to demonstrate Taiwanese determination for peace and solidarity in opposition to China’s missiles by organizing a million people to hold hands to form a chain along the length of Taiwan. Another symbolic theme of the event was ethnic harmony. The five fingers of the hand would represent the major ethnic groups of Taiwan (Hakka, waisheng Taiwanese, Fujianese, aborigines, and foreign spouses) coming together to protect Taiwan. The date selected for the event also had great significance as February 28 marks the date of the 1947 KMT massacre of Taiwanese citizens who stood up against oppressive rule. It has been described as the most important event in Taiwanese history as it made the boundaries between the Taiwanese and the newly arrived Chinese abundantly clear, which some say means the event gave rise to Taiwanese history.12 On the afternoon of February 27, 1947, agents from the Taipei Monopoly Bureau caught a woman illegally selling cigarettes. When she refused to hand over the cigarettes or the money, the agents assaulted her. Angry bystanders protested, and the agents fled, firing into the crowd. A spectator was hit and died shortly thereafter. The next day a group of around 2,000 Taiwanese marched to the Monopoly Bureau Office with a petition demanding justice—they wanted the guilty agent to be executed and the bureau director to resign. When they could get no response they proceeded to the governor-general’s offices to continue their protest. Military police in the office fired on the crowd with machine guns, killing or injuring dozens. The unrest spread throughout the city as citizens killed two Monopoly Bureau agents and sacked a bureau office, and then throughout the country after a radio station broadcast news of the event. Police stations and government offices around Taiwan were attacked; so police and soldiers fired on the citizens to put down the unrest. Many barricaded themselves in government buildings or went into hiding. Local elites formed committees, often in cooperation with youth organizations, to restore public order and ensure that transportation and communication services continued.13 On March 1, 1947, the governor of Taiwan lifted martial law and invited the opposition to form a Settlement Committee of politicians and labor and student groups to discuss restitution and amnesty and punishment of the police and authorities involved in the events. However, the Committee soon began calling for political and economic reforms, including autonomy for Taiwan as a province within the ROC. While giving lip service to the committee, the governor called for military backup from China. A week later the troops arrived.

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Shipyard laborers were shot down by the arriving soldiers. Crackdowns and massacres began the next day. Social elites were targeted and many who had participated in the riots were hunted down and killed along with their families. Privately owned media were shut down. Many people were arrested and executed, most without public trials. Thousands of people died (estimates range from 8,000 to 100,000, with the commonly held view of around 20,000 deaths and another 30,000 wounded14) during this crackdown now known as the 2–28 (February 28) Incident. In the wake of the crackdown, Taiwanese citizens became even more meek and submissive than they ever had been under Japanese rule out of fear for their safety. Elimination of the social elite made KMT governance simpler. Gang members and corrupt businessmen moved into their roles and worked closely with the KMT to rule the native Taiwanese. The event crystallized a distinction for many native Taiwanese between themselves and the waisheng population; it strengthened their sense of self-awareness. As one of the hand-in-hand event’s organizers explained, The historic significance of the 2–28 hand-in-hand rally is that Taiwanese people, based on their national identification with Taiwan, will stand up to say “no” to foreign invaders—namely China, which has said it will not hesitate to use military force to annex Taiwan.15

Clearly, symbolically standing up to China would carry added significance on such a day. Overtones of the earlier attempt by Taiwanese to stand up to the KMT and the Chinese troops would boost the emotional significance of the event and play against pan-blue candidates who might otherwise like to participate. President Chen did, however, invite Lien Chan and James Soong to join him in protecting “Taiwan from external threats and from becoming a local government of somewhere else.”16 Ostensibly it was an ethnic harmony, pro-peace, anti-Chinese missile event, but realistically, there were also anti-KMT undercurrents. For example, on February 1, 2004 at a very successful rehearsal of the hand-in-hand event at which 70,000 people joined hands to form a 62-kilometer-long chain in southern Taiwan, former president Lee Teng-hui remarked Although the martial law period has long been over, psychologically the people have yet to be rid of the martial law blues. That’s why all the people of Taiwan should join together, regardless of ethnicity, gender, age or political orientation, to counter the missile threat from China and to show the world that Taiwan is a peace-loving, democratic country.17


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Lee also urged voters to cast their ballots for Chen because Chen is the symbol of Taiwanized government.18 Pan-blue members charged that the pan-greens were fanning ethnic conflict between native and waisheng Taiwanese by holding the rally on the anniversary of the 2–28 Incident. Pan-greens countered that rather than casting different groups against each other, they were awakening an identity that resides in all Taiwanese: “The Taiwanese people used to be controlled by the KMT as if they were on a lead, but now they have been gradually awakened and that’s why we see the increase of supporters for this pro-Taiwanization force.”19 The pangreens also tried to distinguish the issue of national identity from that of ethnic identity. While clearly emphasizing Taiwanese consciousness as distinct from Chinese consciousness, in an effort to stem the criticism, event organizers were also careful to emphasize ethnic reconciliation, and made it a major theme of the event. They proclaimed that any person, no matter what ethnic background, can have Taiwanese consciousness. For example, President Chen stressed, “The hatred and prejudice that have resulted from the ethnic conflicts of the past will only come to an end when people are willing to embrace each other with love and understanding.”20 The human chain extended from the very northern tip of Taiwan in Keelung and passed through 18 counties and 54 townships to reach the southern tip of Taiwan. It stretched nearly 500 kilometers, passing through areas lived in by three-quarters of the population. People began to assemble for the event at 9:00 AM on February 28, 2004. The event had the air of a festival, with each area demonstrating its own local specialties. For example, at the Peace Island coastal park, aborigines performed traditional dances. In Miaoli, 1,000 Buddhas were set out as protectors of Taiwan. In Zhang Hua, a lion dance was performed on the old Xiluo Bridge. President Chen kicked off the event at Peace Island with prayers and the release of a flock of white doves, and then traveled along the chain to boost morale. Everyone joined hands and counted down to 2:28 PM, the climax of the event. At that moment, President Chen and former President Lee Teng-hui raised their hands and shouted along with two-million people across Taiwan, “Taiwan Yes! China No!” Organizers released multicolored ribbons and balloons. Rock concerts continued the festivities for the rest of the afternoon in Taipei and in the south of Taiwan. The event was viewed as highly successful with an estimated two-million people participating, nearly twice as many as expected. Organizers maintained that the rally had been aimed at highlighting

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Taiwan’s determination to maintain peace using their bare hands and had no direct connection with Chen’s reelection campaign, although subsequent polls showed a great boost to Chen’s ratings.

Change the President to Save Taiwan Pan-blue members tried to diminish the significance of the hand-in-hand event by explaining that the rally could only mobilize people who already supported Chen, and suggesting that the rally had been staged simply to cover up Chen’s poor performance as president. However, they also felt pressure to likewise demonstrate success at staging a mass event and mobilizing followers from grassroots to leadership. They quickly organized a major event to take place in cities around Taiwan on March 13, 2004 the Saturday before the election. Pan-blue leaders initially announced an anti–black gold theme for this rally. The pan-blues hoped to characterize the DPP government, which had been openly calling for the elimination of corruption, as being a hotbed of corruption itself. The theme immediately drew widespread ridicule—not because the DPP was not without corrupt individual politicians, but because the KMT was notoriously rife with black gold problems, and ties to the underworld and KMT national power had been consolidated through favoritism of local businessmen and gangs who could deliver the local vote. Furthermore, in the run-up to the 2000 presidential election, the KMT itself had sued James Soong, the current vice-presidential candidate and the KMT’s ex-secretary general, for embezzling over US$10 million in party funds and forging party seals to open bank accounts in the party’s name without authorization. In the end, the pan-blues had to back off the anti–black gold theme and settled instead on “change the president to save Taiwan.” The DPP immediately picked up the anti–black gold theme themselves, suggesting that if the pan-blues could not handle it, they could. They organized an anti–black gold rally in the southern city of Kaohsiung for the same day as the pan-blue rally. It was attended by half-a-million people. Former President Lee Teng-hui labeled it “the last battle between native power and alien authority.”21 The pan-blue “change the president to save Taiwan” event took place at 127 rally points around Taiwan, with large rallies planned for the three major cities of Taiwan—Taipei, Taichung, and Kaohsiung. The KMT and PFP hoped the march would represent all the complaints people had made over the past four years against the Chen


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administration and considered the event an important indicator of how they would do in the election. They anticipated over a million people would participate. KMT Chairman Lien Chan spoke at the Taipei rally, while his running mate, PFP Chairman James Soong, made an appearance at the event in Taichung. Soong’s address outlined the KMT and PFP’s four aces: the stability of the country, the development of the economy, the rule of law of democracy, and the equality of all people. Soong promised that once elected they would deal with black gold and sweep it into the dust bin of history. Soong, who was born in China, reminded the crowd that ten years ago he had said that because he drank the water of Taiwan and ate the rice of Taiwan, he had become Taiwanese. In his speech he emphasized, “I am a Taiwanese, I will fight for Taiwan.”22 He also derided President Chen with six rhyming phrases: The husband [Chen Shui-bian] cheats for votes; the wife is busy manipulating the stock market. Those around him eat boiled dumplings [Chen gives treats to those who help him]. His ministers are busy flattering him. Public construction is a joke. His promises [from the 2000 campaign] can not be fulfilled.23 At 3:20 in the afternoon, to represent the March 20 date of the election everyone waved flags and let off air horns and shouted, “Change the president and save Taiwan.” Soong and his wife then stepped off the stage and knelt down in a kowtow, kissing the ground to show their love for Taiwan. In Taipei, Lien Chan delivered a speech criticizing President Chen for having had such a negative record over the last four years, for having completely failed to respect the constitution, and for transforming Taiwan’s government into a one-man show. He charged that Chen cared only for power and that he had absolutely no achievements in government, which is why Chen had resorted to reengineering the constitution and the referendum. He was using them as anesthetics in a bid to win votes, distracting people’s attention from the DPP’s bad performance. Lien Chan, who was born in China to a Chinese mother and Taiwanese father, also talked about Taiwan. He said that Taiwan is everyone’s mother and that land does not belong to any one person or any one ethnic group, but to everyone. He vowed to protect Taiwan with his life and his blood, to protect Taiwan’s people, society, and future, and to protect the free and democratic way of life. To express how much he loved the soil of Taiwan, Lien Chan and his wife prostrated themselves on the ground and kissed it. While it was Lien’s first performance, Soong had kowtowed three times before, once before

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a county commissioner when a water-resources budget was cut by the central government.24 The decision for the two candidates to put their faces to the earth reveals the extent to which the issue of Taiwanization has become intertwined with politics in Taiwan. Politicians with ties to China feel a necessity to demonstrate to the electorate that Taiwan is their motherland. Pan-blue candidates, especially those not born in Taiwan, have an extra burden of proving their loyalty to Taiwan because of their party’s historical ties with China. They must preempt concerns that they would sell out Taiwan, and the necessity to do so has become greater as increasing numbers of people identify themselves as Taiwanese, and fewer see themselves as purely Chinese. But, they must walk a very careful tightrope; their traditional supporters will not stand for even veiled talk of independence. There remains among traditional pan-blue supporters an unnamed emotional attachment to China, a feeling that there is an undeniable connection, even as they may also realize it can no longer be a political one in the way they once imagined. Pan-blue politicians are thus in the difficult position of neither supporting independence nor unification; either position would have potential to elicit a strongly negative reaction in their supporters. The only option remaining is the status quo, which leaves them without a plan for Taiwan’s future. Thus, in the face of the great success of the hand-in-hand rally, Lien Chan was cornered into kissing the earth and making statements about his resolve for Taiwan not to be swallowed by the PRC. Furthermore, Lien and Soong could not challenge Chen over independence-versus-unification issues in the presidential campaign. Instead they attempted to concentrate on economic issues. Unfortunately for them, Taiwan’s economy made an upturn in the final quarter of 2003 and continued to recover, robbing them of their campaign platform. This is why, when it came down to the very last weekend before the election, the only theme they could come up with for their massive rally was “change the president.” It was all they had to offer the people of Taiwan. Democratic Progressive Party politicians immediately pounced on the pan-blue leadership’s decision to kneel, twisting the symbolism that the pan-blues hoped to convey into images of deference to China. They seemed to paint the pan-blues as representative of Chinese consciousness and contrasted it with their own Taiwanese consciousness. For example, Frank Hsieh, then DPP mayor of Kaohsiung remarked, “Unless Soong is willing to kneel to the Beijing authority and ask China to withdraw its ballistic missiles targeted at


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Taiwan, we have no idea why a politician should have to kneel or cry so much.”25 In Taichung, President Chen urged supporters at a campaign rally not to kneel before China and advised that “the people of Taiwan must not lie prone in the face of China’s bullying.”26 Chen also suggested that if Lien and Soong wanted to imitate former chancellor of West Germany Willy Brandt, who knelt before the monument to the Heroes of the 1943 Warsaw Ghetto Uprising and expressed remorse for German atrocities against Jews, then March 13 was not an appropriate time to do so. Rather, he suggested, Lien and Soong should have chosen to kneel on 2–28 to express their remorse to the people of Taiwan for KMT crimes committed during the martial-law era. Chen questioned the KMT’s love for Taiwan, asking why it is still called the Chinese Nationalist Party instead of changing its name to the Taiwanese Nationalist Party.27 When Lien and Soong had joined forces to oppose Chen for the election, they had figured they would easily find the support they needed to beat him considering their combined 60 percent of the vote in the previous election. However, as their campaign progressed they always found their support rate lower than expected, and they could not seem to find a way to move it upwards. They were unable to put together a plan to organize more support. They could not put Chen and Lu firmly behind them. The March 13 rallies were the first taste of this kind of success for the pan-blues. Media reports estimated a million people participated. The impact on the psychological momentum of the pan-blue ticket was significant. They felt a groundswell of support and experienced the power of the people for themselves. It awakened in the pan-blues a realization of the significance of large-scale events for gaining momentum, and was a lesson they did not forget in the weeks following the election. However, pan-green officials quickly identified the pan-blue’s weak point: they had mobilized an impressive number of people to come out and march, but the only purpose had been to cut down Chen Shui-bian. There was no larger message; there was no greater issue. Mustering up so much energy just to oppose one person could at most only stabilize grassroots support—it could not entice swing voters or capture the pro-localization voters who were disappointed with Chen. The pan-greens pressed their advantage. They had a message, and they had a platform. They set out to differentiate themselves clearly from the pan-blues. At a campaign rally in Taidong, President Chen observed that whereas the hand-in-hand event had been a joyous

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affirming event that brought the people of Taiwan together, the pan-blue’s March 13 event had been about marching around shouting “change the president.” They asked why the pan-blues were not shouting at black gold or at Communist China or even the missiles that are pointed at Taiwan. Vice President Annette Lu was not subtle in suggesting that the pan-blues have close ties with China. She remarked that when she had seen Lien assembling people in front of a huge waving red flag (the national flag of Taiwan, which is red with a symbol nearly identical to the KMT insignia in white on a blue rectangle in the upper left corner, is used almost exclusively by the KMT; the DPP have their own green and white flag with a picture of Taiwan), which had been hung from the KMT headquarters facing the Presidential Office, it looked an awful lot like the red flag flying over Tiananmen Square in Beijing. She observed that the March 13 rally was not about changing the president; it was about Lien and Soong wanting to change countries. It was about giving Taiwan away to China. As ways to mobilize people, the pan-green’s hand-in-hand rally and the pan blue’s change-the-president-to-save-Taiwan rally were both extremely successful events. However, the green camp was also very successful at strengthening Taiwanese consciousness and painting the KMT and PFP as representatives of Chinese consciousness. Critics of the Chen administration charged that building Taiwanese consciousness by painting the opposition as pro-China was rending the very fabric of Taiwanese society. Many critics of the Chen administration felt that the pan-green campaign strategy would have a long-lasting negative impact on Taiwanese society.

Ethnic Discord or National Identity According to Chen Shui-bian’s critics, when pan-green politicians use the label of being “pro-Communist” or “pro-China” and “against Taiwan” to attack those supporting Lien’s candidacy and to portray blue supporters as morally inferior, the damage is twofold. First, these kinds of attacks do not promote national identity; they cause ethnic discord and rifts in interpersonal relations that do not heal once the election is over. They remain, weakening the fabric of Taiwanese society. Second, they obscure rational discussion of important matters of national policy without which Taiwan will become marginalized and isolated. When pan-green leaders proclaim that anyone who recognizes and loves Taiwan is Taiwanese, they intimate that there is no ethnic


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identity problem, merely an issue of national identity. For example, Annette Lu explained, Ethnic conflict is not an issue that Taiwan should be concerned about; it is the issue of “national identity” that Taiwanese people have to accept . . . . The ethnic issue does not actually exist in Taiwan. The issue was only created for the election campaign.28

It is likely that many in the pan-blue camp agree with Lu’s observation. Although Lu’s intended meaning was that the pan-blues have created the issue for their campaign, her opponents would suggest that it is the pan-greens who have intentionally inflamed the issue and that one of the main themes of the pan-green election campaign, “love Taiwan,” was concocted solely to conceal their agenda to promote ethnic rifts in order to benefit their candidates. Critics suggest that the pangreens have used a series of well-designed actions to situate the greens and the blues in opposing positions with respect to the “love Taiwan” slogan. Their strategy, critics charge, entails definition of the election as a defense of the native regime against a foreign authority, contrast of local culture with nonlocal, Taiwan with China, and south (where the greens have their stronghold) with north (where the blues find the majority of their support). These simple dichotomies have been used to cut the two camps into “those who love Taiwan” and “those who do not love Taiwan.” The electorate has been provided only two options: If you love Taiwan you are a green-camp supporter; if you do not, you are a traitor to Taiwan, willing to sell out Taiwan, or a Communist sympathizer. For example, shortly before the election, the DPP put out a poster that said: “1. Choose a Taiwanese 2. Choose a Chinese.” (An identification number was assigned to each candidate for campaigning purposes. Chen had been assigned number “1”, and Lien was number “2”.) Critics suggest this tactic made many voters feel that the pan-blue candidates were enemies to be eradicated; “love Taiwan” is a sort of spell many DPP candidates use to win ballots at a basic level. They claimed a candidate need not be well educated or have great ability or high ideals. As long as a candidate can offer up “love Taiwan,” he can paint his opponent as “having his head drenched in dog’s blood” and can get himself elected. Critics also argue that the greens have combined the issue of Taiwan’s independence with loving Taiwan to produce a moral absolute that can not be questioned, which has led to an atmosphere in which it is not possible to discuss ideas that contravene the prevailing

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ideology—if you discuss them then you do not love Taiwan. Thus, the issue of Taiwan’s independence has become merged with loving Taiwan. There is no room to love Taiwan and consider that the best course for Taiwan’s future is some form of unification with China. In this light it is no wonder that many critics of the Chen administration find the statement that “no matter what your ethnicity, as long as you recognize Taiwanese independence then you love Taiwan” offensive. It unfairly uses the independence question as a test for loving Taiwan. It leaves no room for debate on Taiwan’s future. Critics are alarmed at what they perceive to be a trend of suppression of dissenting opinion in Taiwan that they say is not unlike that of the red guards of China’s Cultural Revolution. One such example critics have highlighted is the way internationally renowned film director Hou Hsiao-hsien was maligned after he organized the Ethnic Equality Action Alliance (a.k.a. Coalition for Equal Opportunity) along with a group of 100 academics and artists. The ostensibly nonpartisan group called on the media to monitor politicians’ and parties’ actions instead of giving sensationalist coverage to inflammatory remarks. The alliance seemed to focus their criticisms on the greens, implying that they were far worse in this regard than the blues. One of the arguments the alliance used was that people who examine historical incidents of ethnic discrimination are guilty of stirring up ethnic hatred. Hou was then accused by some in the pan-green camp of having close ties to China and of accepting money from Chinese investors to produce his films. According to critics, ties with China were used as evidence of Hou’s being anti-Taiwan and considered sufficient grounds to dismiss the points raised by his group. Describing this atmosphere of mind control, Taiwanese author Zhu Tian-xin described those in power as “ill-naturedly deceiving the unarmed Taiwan people” in an article entitled “I do not love this kind of Taiwan.” Saying she did not want to be forced by politicians to say “I love Taiwan,” she appealed to the Taiwanese people “not to give the rulers a ‘love Taiwan’ blank check or no-limit credit card and let them spend until it explodes.”29 Some critics have even suggested that the current requirement for political correctness leaves no room for even a neutral position on “love Taiwan” and Taiwan’s future, as the following example demonstrates. After aboriginal pop singer Chang Hui-mei (better known as A-mei) sang the national anthem at Chen Shui-bian’s inaugural ceremony in 2000, Chinese authorities labeled her a green artist and prohibited her from performing in China for several years. When she was finally allowed to schedule a concert in Hangzhou, it was canceled at the last minute due to local student protests (possibly organized by the Chinese


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government). The students held up banners reading “safeguarding our motherland and unification.”30 They did not want a pro-independence singer to make money in China. A-mei’s indignant fans in Taiwan promptly proposed boycotts of Chinese singers. Nearly two months later, A-mei was able to hold a concert in Beijing, but an even bigger controversy arose after she returned home. This time it was not Chinese students who criticized her, but those in Taiwan who advocate “love Taiwan”—some urged boycotting her in Taiwan for her remarks made in an interview on China’s CTTV. A-mei had dissociated herself from the pan-greens and insinuated that not only had singing Taiwan’s national anthem not been her idea, she now regretted doing so. She had also stated, “I’m a Chinese person, and I sing Chinese people’s songs.”31 Vice president Annette Lu said A-Mei should choose between a career in China and Taiwan’s national interests. Lu criticized A-mei: If A-mei’s being oppressed by China resulted from her performance of the national anthem, A-mei should say out loud [to China]: “It is my right to sing the Republic of China’s national anthem. You Chinese people can sing your national anthem, why can’t I sing mine?” But, if the two governments were at war, would it be more important for A-mei to sing in Beijing or to defend the 23 million people [of Taiwan]?32

A-mei responded to Lu’s remarks by explaining that she is only an artist and asking how cross-strait relations could become dependent on her words. Native Taiwanese talk-show host Wang Ben-hu’s comments on the matter most clearly demonstrate what critics say is a complete lack of tolerance for any concept of Taiwan but the one advocated by the green camp: An actor can be without a political standpoint, but there definitely should be a country. In the face of the current situation between Taiwan and China, there is only one choice. If you choose China that’s OK. You can also choose Taiwan. But, you can’t keep one foot in each boat.33

To many critics of the Chen administration, the choice Wang poses is a false one. There is no need to choose. There are many possibilities for relations with China. There is no need to assume such a combative stance. Furthermore, for many waisheng Taiwanese, the rejection of China feels like a rejection of them as individuals. They feel they are not considered to be “real” Taiwanese, that they are somehow lesser

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citizens than the native Taiwanese. These very real feelings are a great part of what the blues are referring to when they charge that the greens are stirring up ethnic conflict. In this regard, the blues have a valid point. However, they have also tried to manipulate the situation to their benefit by suggesting that until recently Taiwan was a peaceful and stable society, which allowed for the rapid growth of the economy. This ethnic division, they claim, is new and has unexpectedly become a serious issue due to the policies of the Chen administration and the DPP’s ideology. They portray the DPP as divisive while casting themselves as balanced and making every effort to unite the various ethnic groups of Taiwan. One problem with this argument is that KMT Chairman Lien Chan himself employed a strategy of divisiveness as a presidential candidate in 2000. Referring to James Soong, also a presidential contender in 2000, Lien Chan said: “A person who cannot even pronounce ‘saliva’ in Taiwanese is still vying for the presidency.”34 Lien specifically invoked Taiwanese consciousness against Soong, who was born in China to Chinese parents saying, “Our own future has to be determined by ourselves. We cannot allow others to decide our fate.”35 This statement against China-friendly individuals emphasizing Taiwanese consciousness is exactly the kind of rhetoric that many in the pan-blue camp, including Lien Chan, now claim to find extremely offensive and a source of ethnic division. Another problem with this argument is that is does not reflect historical reality. In chapter 1, a distinction was made between native Taiwanese and waisheng Taiwanese. Native Taiwanese are in fact composed of two major groups: the Hakka from Guangdong Province (who speak Hakka), and the Fujianese, or Hoklo, of Fujian (who speak Fujianese also known as Taiwanese). The Fujianese outnumber the Hakka by about three to one. Due to their numerical superiority, the Fujianese have a long history of conflict with the Hakka and the aborigines of Taiwan. As Fujianese dominated the more fertile lowlands, Hakkas settled in the hills nearer to aborigine communities with whom they had greater interaction both in terms of intermarriage and warfare.36 Historically, Chinese leaders exploited differences between the groups. For example, when the KMT government arrived in Taiwan it made sure to provide benefits to Hakka and aborigines in order to better control the Fujianese. The Hakka and aborigines have thus been part of the KMT’s traditional support base. Is there ethnic conflict in Taiwan today? A sociologist at Taiwan’s premiere research institution, Academia Sinica, reported that the


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“intermarriages, other frequent social exchanges between the ethnic groups, and the lack of the cultural division of labor smoothed out the hostility between the groups.”37 With Taiwan’s rapid economic growth and equal access to education, social status is more balanced, and the ethnic issue has become even less important since the previous election. Although the sociologist recognized the conflict between waisheng Taiwanese and native Taiwanese in politics, he felt overall there was less ethnic conflict in society. “Democracy has switched the political position of the ethnic groups, and now it is the mainlanders [waisheng Taiwanese], positioned on a politically disadvantaged side, asking for respect and recognition.”38 Now that Taiwan has become a democracy, Fujianese and Hakka citizens have the choice of which party to support. It may be that waisheng Taiwanese fear marginalization and thus feel that they are limited to pan-blue party politicians. For example, in a letter to a newspaper in Taiwan, a lawyer related his experience growing up as a second-generation waisheng Taiwanese: More than ten years ago, I participated in a student demonstration and my kind father [a serviceman] was suddenly beleaguered with blame from his friends. They claimed my father had not fulfilled his duty to educate his son and urged my father to repent for this piece of negligence. Amid this storm of criticism, my father, with tears running down his cheeks, warned me not to support the Democratic Progressive Party anymore, saying that someday the DPP would kick him and his friends back to China.39

Thus, even though waisheng Taiwanese do not identify with the Chinese Communists, but with Chinese people in general, the growing nationalism among the people of Taiwan leaves them feeling excluded. It is easy for them to consider increasing Taiwanese nationalism to be ethnic discrimination. Issues such as whether a portion of the civilservice examination should be conducted in Taiwanese (which some waisheng and Hakka people do not speak) and whether to delete questions pertaining to China from the national-history portion of the exam are held up by the pan-blues as examples of discrimination and de-Sinofication. Some pan-blue politicians have played up a siege mentality among waisheng Taiwanese by predicting that the DPP would exact revenge if it were elected, adding urgency to their call for support. The way many critics see it, the green camp’s “love Taiwan” theme is in essence Fujianese (Hoklo) chauvinism. They feel that Fujianese

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act as if their culture should be regarded as Taiwan’s culture; other ethnicities are discriminated against and treated as if they belong in a museum or are part of some sort of singing and dancing group. So, they argue, even though some DPP leaders talk about human rights and equality, their subconscious Fujianese chauvinism shows through in their discrimination against minority groups and insistence on a Fujianese view of Taiwan. Remarks made by Vice President Annette Lu, who is infamous for her direct and occasionally outlandish remarks, are often held up as examples of this attitude. In the summer of 2004, tropical storm Mindulle resulted in major mudslides in mountainous central Taiwan that damaged roads and bridges and even swept away whole towns. In attempting to point out that those who had had to be rescued were in fact at least in part responsible for the overdevelopment of the land that had led to advanced erosion and instability of the steep hillsides, Vice President Lu managed to offend many aborigines. The thrust of her comment was likely intended to highlight the ecological crisis and open the question of whether people should be allowed to continue living in these areas. But, as the residents of the mountain areas affected were largely aborigines, they took the remarks as a personal attack. Vice President Lu made matters worse by stating that perhaps “victims who live in devastated areas could move to Central or South America [where Taiwan has diplomatic allies].”40 Although she did not specifically mention aborigines, many aborigines interpreted this remark as her attempt to “exterminate them.” They suggested she relocate to Central America herself, and demanded an apology. Donning their traditional attire they brought ceremonial swords to stage a protest in front of the Presidential Office, shouting “chu cao” (into the bush), which refers to their former practice of headhunting. Organizers of the rally said that the main significance of the event was to highlight the existence of racism at the higher levels of the government. The protest director, a PFP legislator, remarked, The Taiwanese Aboriginal people have suffered from generations of control and oppression by an alien government. When the government changed hands, the indigenous people originally gained new hope, but time has proven that the Aboriginals are facing just another rubbercheck government; a lying government; a racist government.41

Vice President Lu’s response to the protest did not help matters. She refused to back down from her statement, saying she had been misinterpreted. She welcomed the aborigines to demonstrate, but asked


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them not to bring guns and knives but instead “to sing their traditional songs and dance festively.”42 Although the argument can be made that Annette Lu’s statements reveal some inherently racist conceptions on her part, it is also clear that pan-blue legislators are willing to stir up aborigines’ outrage in order to use the issue against not just Lu but also the greens as a whole in hopes of advancing their own cause. Interestingly, as the PFP legislator’s statement indicates, they seem to admit to past transgressions against aborigines on the part of the KMT government in order to portray the greens as extending oppressive policies, although, in fact, Chen’s administration has allocated a larger proportion of its budget than the former KMT government did to improving aboriginal communities’ welfare and promoting aboriginal rights. Pan-blue concern with the issue of discrimination has been so great that shortly after the election pan-blue legislative caucuses proposed a new bill to promote equality among all ethnic groups, especially between waisheng Taiwanese and all other groups. Their ethnic equality bill stipulated that people who damage ethnic harmony during an election campaign could be sentenced to up to two years in jail or be fined. While it may be true that for some legislators this bill was a way of reducing one of the pan-green’s campaigning advantages, for others it was a truly emotional and painful issue that they felt very deeply about. For example, describing the bill’s aims brought one KMT legislator to tears as he said, I was born in Taiwan and love Taiwan, but I still carry the “original sin” that I am a Mainlander [waisheng Taiwanese]. We are still not trusted, just like James Soong. No matter how hard Mr. Soong works, his love for Taiwan is still being questioned. This is unfair to Mainlanders.43

In sum, critics of the Chen administration find numerous examples of immoral behavior on the part of the pan-green alliance: arousing ethnic discord through Taiwanization, playing up anti-Chinese themes, suggesting that the pan-blue candidates should be regarded as traitors, attaching a moral element to identification with Taiwan, and discriminating against minority groups. Many felt that holding the referendum alongside the presidential election was the embodiment of all of these tactics, and that they had been applied purely with the aim of retaining power. With this sort of immoral opponent willing to stop at nothing to win the election, many in the pan-blue camp have felt that extreme actions are warranted in return. The result has been an increased intensity of emotional mudslinging on all sides.


C hapter 7

Negative Campaigning

To be suspicious is not a fault. To be suspicious all the time without coming to a conclusion is the defect. Lu Xun

D

uring the presidential campaign there was rarely debate of real substance over public-policy issues. This lack of substantive debate is generally attributed to the fact that there were few differences between the two sides in terms of policy. Whereas the pan-blue camp had formerly been opposed to passing a referendum law and opposed changes to the constitution, by 2004 it had passed the Law and reversed its position on developing a new constitution. Without a clear way to differentiate itself from the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), pan-blue politicians resorted to propaganda to advance their cause. For example, they distributed a campaign poster depicting Saddam Hussein, Osama bin Laden, and the destruction of the World Trade Center towers, warning people not to vote for President Chen. Bin Laden was pictured saying “I am the terrorist leader bin Laden, and I admire Taiwan’s A-bian!” (A-bian is the affectionate name of Chen Shui-bian.) The DPP also launched personal attacks. In a TV commercial, they compared Lien Chan to former U.S. Vice President Spiro Agnew, who stepped down in 1973 after he was found to have evaded paying taxes. The advertisement claimed Lien had used political influence to help his daughter with tax evasion in 1991. The pan-blues put out a campaign advertisement that used file footage (without permission) of the highly regarded Academia Sinica President Lee Yuan-tze criticizing the DPP administration. The advertisement made it appear that Lee now supported the pan-blues, although he has tended to support the pan-greens and his announcement of support for Chen Shui-bian in the final days before the 2000 election has been credited with boosting Chen to victory.

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The pan-blue’s claim that President Chen and the DPP have damaged social values and disregarded social welfare stems in part from this negative campaigning, which the blues claimed would have a long-lasting negative impact on society. This chapter examines some of the worst mudslinging of the 2004 election campaign, which escalated to the point that there were calls for President Chen to step down just weeks before the election. The chapter explores the way the actions of both sides were interpreted with regard to the state of democracy in Taiwan, especially the right to freedom of speech. Each side claimed the other was transgressing Taiwan’s laws and disregarding the constitution. As the arguments of each side were complex and both sides claimed to be in possession of hard evidence to support their claims we make no attempt to determine which side is right or wrong, but merely present the details as they unfolded for most people in Taiwan.

“Special Report” Both sides participated in a barrage of rumors and mudslinging on topics ranging from stolen assets to wife-beating to improper use of campaign funds, but with an overwhelming foothold in Taiwan’s TV and print media, the pan-blues were far more adept at getting their message out. For example, there are numerous call-in programs and news commentary shows that tend to take a pan-blue perspective and harshly criticize the pan-greens. The supposedly neutral host or commentator often blatantly sides with the pan-blue representatives who appear on the show to discuss issues with a pan-green representative. In the face of what they considered to be the biased reporting found in most mainstream media, a small group of die-hard pan-green supporters got together to see what they could do to allow an alternative grassroots voice to be heard. In late October 2003, a group calling itself the “Taiwan Media Revolution Studio” released a video called “Special Report” that parodied the pan-blue shows with a faux newscast. Whereas the pan-blues had a nightly supposedly legitimate forum through which to dispense their positions in the guise of truth, the pan-greens used several well-known local actors and actresses speaking Taiwanese to lampoon a number of pan-blue politicians and anti-green media personalities to get their message across. For example, in the first installment a group of actors discussed the “liver cancer” (in Taiwanese, the word liver sounds like high official) of People First Party (PFP) Chairman James Soong to mock his mental abilities and talked about the highly publicized embezzlement charges against him. The video was circulated

N egative Campaigning

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in installments on VCDs (video CDROMs) available in night markets and bookstores nationwide, with promise of several more disks to come. The PFP immediately announced it would sue the producers of the VCD and top-level DPP leaders for libel, claiming that the video defamed its party members. James Soong called the video “obscene” and “dirty campaign tricks of President Chen,” Soong’s wife said that the “Special Report VCDs are scarier than nuclear bombs,” the PFP legislative caucus leader labeled the video “mud-slinging politics at its worst,” and PFP Lawmaker Daniel Huang said the video used unfounded details to “slaughter politicians’ integrity.”1 PFP Legislator Chiu Yi said he would sue the DPP, and the disk’s producers, sponsors, and actors for libel because in the video he had been called a “barking beast,” which is a homophone for “professor” in Chinese, and because the video had implied he was not married to his wife and that his children had been born out of wedlock. He demanded compensation of NT$100 million (US$3 million) saying that his reputation had been seriously damaged. DPP leaders denied any role in the production of the video. The Government Information Office (GIO) quickly ordered local governments to confiscate all copies of the VCD, which they said was illegal because no circulation license had been obtained from the GIO as required by the Broadcasting and Television Law. The GIO director-general advised that although people are entitled to freedom of speech, they should not make intentionally defamatory remarks, and reminded people that those who are defamed can seek compensation through a civil suit. Taipei City officials immediately began confiscating any copies they could find, but were soundly criticized for the clampdown with the argument that the VCD had not been intended for broadcast and so was not subject to the Law. The production company also pointed out that it was registered with the GIO in Taipei and therefore legal. Furthermore, the VCD was not intended for commercial purposes as it was distributed free of charge. Others observed that even under the Law it was customary only to ban publications that were morally harmful or that revealed classified national security information. They found it suspicious that “Special Report” was singled out for seizure among the hundreds of VCD and DVD titles available in night markets. The Southern Taiwan Society, which initially assisted with distribution of the disks, issued a statement of support: We will not retreat before China-friendly individuals resorting to White Terror2 tactics in the name of democracy. . . . We repeat our call for all

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people with contempt for dictatorship and a passion for freedom to join us in our fight to build a free, democratic, and egalitarian new Taiwanese nation.3

The conflict intensified with the blue side claiming illegal action on the part of the producers of the disks, and the green side claiming that those opposed to the disk were reverting to KMT martial-law-era tactics to clamp down, and trampling the right to freedom of speech. Exhibit A for the green argument was vice-presidential candidate James Soong, who had claimed in a press conference that the video violated human rights and that it makes society confused about proper values and what is right and what is wrong. Soong accused the producers of the video of twisting social morality and expressed the view that it is the responsibility of the government to protect society and not to allow this kind of irresponsible video that destroys people’s reputations. Pan-green supporters suggested that Soong’s remarks reflected his familiarity with how to clamp down on unwanted materials due to his experience as head of the GIO under the KMT,4 and wondered whether the content of the regular pan-blue TV talk shows was not equally as slanderous as the parody presented on the disks. Actors in the video were caught in the crossfire as pan-blue legislators threatened to sue them for libel; the actors’ union threatened expulsion; and there were rumors that gangsters had been sent to harass cast members. Although some of the actors, such as Beverly Chen who had played the anchor in the faux newscast, had personal reason to dislike pro-unificationist pan-blues (after winning Miss Taiwan, due to pressure from China she had been forced to join an international beauty pageant as Miss Chinese Taipei instead of Miss Taiwan), others did not necessarily have clear political inclinations one way or another. For example, actress Wang Hsiao-fen said she had just wanted to be an actress; she had not realized how the final production would be edited together. She suggested she had signed a contract before ever seeing a script and had been told the show would be broadcast on TV. They had stopped filming, she said, because the TV station decided not to broadcast the show. After that, the show had been recorded on disks for distribution. She was surprised with the final result, and apologized to the people who were smeared on the disk. There were reports that Wang subsequently tried to commit suicide due to criticism over the VCD and concern for her career. Stories such as this made critics of the DPP feel that the pan-greens had manipulated innocent actors and actresses to appear on their underhanded VCD. This trickery, they claimed, was evidence of the


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extent to which the DPP would go to unfairly influence the election. Furthermore, the pan-greens had irreparably damaged social values and disregarded social welfare in stirring up such an ugly mess. The VCDs had caused a great split in Taiwanese society. Frank Wu, chairman of the Public Television Service Foundation, made a comment in an editorial that sums up the perspective representative of the pan-blue alliance. “It seems that those who like the VCDs like them very much, and that those who don’t like them have an extreme dislike for them. This sort of division is the most worrisome problem in Taiwanese society.”5 Part of the reason that the pan-blues went after the actors was that it was still unclear who was behind the videos. Claiming to have received a tip from one of the VCD-production crew, on November 14, PFP Legislator Chiu Yi conceded that it was a group of DPP supporters and not the party itself that was responsible for the video. He declared he was in possession of evidence to prove that four wellknown people were responsible: actress Chiang Hsia (also a member of the board of directors of the TV station that had provided the news footage used in the mock newscast), famous cartoonist and founder of three TV stations in Taiwan Yu-fu, Soochow University Professor Hsieh Zhu-wei, and political commentator and novelist Wu Chin-fa. Chiu charged that the mastermind behind the disk was Chiang Hsia. A few days later the four people Chiu had accused held a joint press conference and proclaimed that if Legislator Chiu could not prove that they were the originators of the video, they would counter-sue him for libel in the amount of NT$80 million (US$2.4 million). Why this amount? Yu Fu explained that according to the Control Yuan, the government watchdog agency with which legislators are required to file their financial information, Chiu Yi’s property had increased by that amount since he had been elected as a legislator. They charged that Legislator Chiu was trying to divert attention from his shortcomings by blaming the cast and the production crew, and challenged him to defend himself. They also insisted that PFP Chairman James Soong should specify what he meant when he described the video as “obscene” six times at an earlier press conference. The studio that produced the disks filed a lawsuit against James Soong for public insult, explaining that the studio had been unable to release episodes 3 and 4 because of the oppression from the police and criminal organizations—no companies were willing to make copies of the disks or help distribute them. Legislator Chiu quickly held yet another press conference to apologize to Yu Fu and the professor explaining that he had no evidence

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to prove that they were involved. However, he now intended to sue Yu Fu for saying that his wealth had increased in the amount by NT$80 million, which he felt was an accusation that he had accepted bribes. He admitted that the crew for the video were just young people trying to earn a living—they were not the real criminals. But, he still accused the other two he had named earlier. He threatened to retire from his position to protect his family’s name and then cut short the press conference to check into a hospital for a rest.6 About this time, in an apparent policy flip-flop, the GIO reversed its judgment and declared that the “Special Report” disks did not require a circulation license; however, they could not clearly specify whether or not the disks were legal until they established whether the video had followed other licensing procedures. This shift removed the authority of local governments to confiscate the disks, so they could again be freely distributed. Premier Yu Shyi-kun cited the right to freedom of speech in support of the reversal. Outraged opposition lawmakers cheekily brought up rumors of President Chen’s extramarital affairs and made derogatory remarks about his partially paralyzed wife, asking Yu if such statements would likewise be considered free speech. In response to Legislator Chiu’s lawsuit, on November 25 the Taipei prosecutors’ office called five actors and actresses who had performed on the disk to investigate possible responsibility for libel and to try to determine who provided the scripts, payments to the performers, as well as the production process for the disks. While the questioning was being conducted, a group of people outside the prosecutors’ office distributed the disks for free. The next day one of the disk’s producers, Lu Tong-lung, who had heretofore remained anonymous, held a press conference to defend the actors and clarify his motives. Lu explained that he had decided to make the videos after several TV stations rejected his proposals for political talk-show programs. Lu said he was willing to take responsibility for the videos, explaining that he had wanted to present a different voice as he felt that most of the major newspapers and TV stations are biased in favor of the pan-blues. “We want to open a new way for Taiwanese media,” he said. “We just want to make a Taiwanese voice heard. They should stop treating us like people convicted of sedition.”7 Lu also formally filed a suit against James Soong for public insult, saying Soong’s criticism of the VCDs was slanderous and that he hoped the District Attorney would call in Soong and humiliate him just like he had called in the actors and actresses. Vice President Annette Lu’s advice was perhaps the most astute. After weeks of lawsuits and countersuits and various proclamations of


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slander and libel on the part of various officials, she cited the Confucian silver rule: Do not do unto others what you do not want to be done to you. She advised that “those who frequently appear on TV talk shows should stop making irresponsible comments about or personal attacks on political figures.”8 It was fairly clear from early on that the DPP party itself had nothing to do with the production of the VCDs. Furthermore, the contents of the VCD were not necessarily anything new—underground radio stations, which are overwhelmingly pro-independence, constantly broadcast similar material. Why did the pan-blues pounce on the disks with such furor? Their ire aroused the curiosity of many who otherwise might not have gone out of their way to view the disks. What was in it for the pan-blues? Perhaps they hoped to divert attention away from the fact that they had only weak campaign issues and were finding it difficult to find points on which to differentiate themselves from the pan-greens. The reaction fits in with their overall strategy of trying to paint the pan-greens as divisive and therefore immoral. They tried to paint the VCDs as part of the DPP campaign strategy, so that people who have not even seen the videos would feel antipathy toward the DPP and disappointment with President Chen. They also cast themselves in the role of the victim, perhaps hoping it might win them sympathy with voters, a strategy not unheard of among Taiwanese politicians, and one examined in greater detail in chapter 9. The significance of the whole debacle is the way both sides talked about the event with respect to democracy. Both sides claim pride in Taiwan’s developing democracy and point out that democracy is Taiwan’s best defense against China. The pan-greens point to the event as evidence of freedom of speech in Taiwan and remind people that not so long ago such a parody would not have been tolerated and would have landed anyone involved in jail. They take pride in the fact that now alternative voices may be heard. Some also took the opportunity to contrast Taiwanese Consciousness with Chinese consciousness, with the observation that “Taiwan’s democracy and freedom are the precious results of many individuals’ decades-long sacrifices and struggle. They are the accomplishments of the Taiwanese people, although China-friendly politicians now spread lies and create social disturbances in the name of free speech.”9 In contrast, the pan-blues point to the event as evidence of flaws in Taiwan’s democracy, suggesting that the government made an exception and allowed the video to circulate only because it defamed the opposition. Pan-blues decry the video as evidence of the decline of social values

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when politicians can be ridiculed so mercilessly and controversy harmful to society is allowed to continue.

Three Letters to the President In early February of 2004, one of Taiwan’s ten most wanted fugitives, former chairman of Tuntex Group Chen Yu-hao, questioned President Chen’s moral integrity and accused several top DPP officials of accepting his donations on behalf of President Chen in the run-up to the presidential election in 2000 and in the Taipei mayoral election in 1998. He made these accusations by fax from China as he had fled Taiwan in August 2002 after being indicted on charges of breach of trust and embezzlement of NT$800 million (US$24 million) from Tuntex subsidiaries for illegal investments in China. He left behind debts estimated to be around NT$50 billion (US$1.5 billion) in Taiwan. Since his departure he has publicly boasted that he has become one of China’s top tax-payers. In the three open letters faxed to pan-blue legislators and media in Taiwan, Chen Yu-Hao suggested that the Presidential Office had become a hive of black-gold politics and fingered several core leaders in the Chen administration as receiving his cash payments. He claimed he was a political refugee and compared President Chen to Adolf Hitler. He also used language common in pan-blue circles: “It takes rationality and legality to deepen democracy, but I have seen you [President Chen] incite the public to hate China and Chinese people.”10 Those accused of accepting money from him defended themselves. Vice Chairman of the Council for Economic Planning and Development Chang Ching-sen said that he had met with Chen Yu-hao. Chen Yu-hao had asked him for help in 1999, but he had done nothing illegal. Deputy Secretary-General to the Presidential Office Chen Che-nan explained that although he had indeed met Chen Yu-hao a few times, the first had been an accidental meeting at a restaurant, and the others had been at Chen Yu-hao’s request to defend his investments in China. No money had ever exchanged hands between them. Both men later filed libel lawsuits against Chen Yu-hao. DPP lawmakers speculated that Chen Yu-hao’s remarks were made in an effort to enhance standing with the leadership in Beijing for the benefit of his companies there, and that the Chinese government was using him as a tool to influence Taiwan’s presidential election.11 The Presidential Office released a statement that the accusations were orchestrated by the pan-blues in an effort to influence the election.


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Actually, the DPP, PFP, and the Kuomintang (KMT) have all admitted accepting donations from Chen Yu-hao during the 2000 presidential campaign; the former received NT$10 million (US$300,000) and the latter two received NT$100 million each (US$3 million). Chen Yu-hao also gave the KMT an initial NT$100 million in 1991, which is reported to have made its way into the private bank accounts of James Soong’s family members. Chen Yu-hao has long-standing ties with the KMT. His company, Tuntex, started out in real-estate development and expanded into textiles, cement, petrochemicals, and telecommunications. KMT-run companies invested in all of Tuntex’s subsidiaries. In the late 1990s the Tuntex Group began to weaken due to overexpansion, and its problems deepened with the Asian financial crisis. In 2002, the government initiated an investigation of Tuntex’s financial status, and Chen Yu-hao fled after being indicted. The KMT has admitted that it spent NT$20 billion (US$580 million) to help Chen Yu-hao survive his bankruptcy crisis. The Tuntex Group has since been disbanded and its subsidiaries now operate independently, although they are still under pressure to repay the money they owe various banks. To fend off charges of impropriety, the DPP campaign headquarters produced the two checks given to them by Chen Yu-hao in 2000, each for the amount of NT$5 million, for a total of NT$10 million. The name of the donor on each check was that of one of Chen Yu-hao’s subsidiary companies. Although the DPP campaign had not provided an official receipt, it had sent a letter of gratitude in acknowledgement of each donation, copies of which were also made public. At that time in Taiwan there was no law regulating political contributions, although a draft of a political contributions act was currently stalled in the legislature because pan-blue politicians had refused to pass it.12 Thus, there was no ceiling on campaign contributions and it was in no way illegal for politicians to accept them—although, of course, it would be considered illegal if they were to be influenced in any specific actions as a result of accepting a contribution. The Chen campaign spokesman pointed out that as the NT$10 million had clearly been donated at the campaign headquarters for the election, and not given to Chen Shui-bian himself, there was nothing illegal about the donation. Furthermore, as the DPP campaign director Chiou I-jen suggested, Chen Yu-hao’s listing as one of Taiwan’s 10-most wanted fugitives further proves that the Chen administration hasn’t given any special treatment regarding the charges against him, including embezzlement [of his own

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company], simply because we took a NT$10 million donation from Chen [Yu-hao] in 2000.13

Premier Yu Shyi-kun added his speculation as to Chen Yu-hao’s motivation for making the allegations. He pointed out that the banks holding Chen Yu-hao’s NT$60 billion (US$1.7 billion) in bad debt in Taiwan were on the verge of auctioning off the shares he had provided as collateral for the loans. He suggested that Chen had picked this time to make a scandal because he hoped the stir would make it harder for the banks to find people willing to purchase his shares. The premier also revealed that under KMT rule, one of Chen Yu-hao’s subsidiaries had used special channels to purchase land and complete facilities to supply liquefied petroleum gas to the Tatan power plant four years before the power company announced who had won the bid to supply it. After coming to power, the DPP government had held a new open bidding on the procurement contract. Without the contract, Chen Yu-hao’s company had been unable to gain the expected profits, which would have allowed it to pay off the debt owed to Taiwan banks. Premier Yu suggested revenge was another reason for Chen Yu-hao to vent his anger and try to prevent President Chen Shui-bian from winning reelection. Chen Yu-Hao was unfazed by the rebuttals. He continued to elaborate on his charges, saying that the DPP was trying to make a profit through insider trading by purchasing his collateral stocks, which were soon to be auctioned off toward repayment of his debts. Finance Minister Lin Chuan clarified that the planned auctioning of Chen’s collateral stocks was legal and that it was Chen Yu-hao’s creditors, 17 financial institutions, who had decided to sell off the stocks. The government played no role in the decision. DPP officials called on Chen Yu-hao to return to Taiwan to clear up the situation. Chen Yu-hao responded that he feared he would be assassinated for accusing the president of accepting illegal donations if he returned to Taiwan. He also said that he was put on Taiwan’s list of top ten fugitives because he refused to cooperate with the president in a plot against the pan-blue alliance, and because the president had lost face when it was revealed that he had given him a smaller donation than he gave the KMT during the 2000 election campaign. The pan-blue camp took advantage of Chen Yu-hao’s accusations to paint the DPP as corrupt. Ironically, it was James Soong, himself accused of receiving questionable donations and embezzling, who took the lead in the attack. Soong suggested that Chen Yu-hao’s revelations over political donations were just the tip of the iceberg.


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He announced that pan-blue legislators had already gathered data about the DPP’s collusion with big business and asserted that President Chen and other DPP leaders had established foundations to evade transparent supervision of their monetary dealings. Soong said that pan-blue legislators would present the case to the public and reveal the truth to voters. One of his final comments was to note that the people still hold the final say by voting out the government engaged in corruption and money politics. Even the pan-blue coalition will be dumped in 2008 if it wins the 2004 presidential election but condones money politics. This is the true purpose for rule by different political parties on a rotation basis.14

In an effort to clear his name, President Chen openly promised to step down if it could be proven that he had ever received any illegal donations from Chen Yu-hao or anyone else. The first lady, Wu Shu-chen, made a similar statement saying the president would retire from politics if it was proved that he had accepted any more than the officially documented NT$10 million donations from Chen Yu-hao. In a fourth open letter entitled “Confessions of Chen Yu-hao” released on March 1, 2004, Chen announced that in addition to the NT$10 million acknowledged by the DPP he had also personally delivered two donations of NT$3 million each in cash to the first lady at her home in Taipei. The first time had been just ahead of the 1994 Taipei mayoral election and the other before the 2000 presidential election. Both times he had been accompanied by a top DPP official, whom he declined to identify. He said he had not been given any receipts for the sums. In a telephone interview with the United Evening News, Chen Yu-hao explained that when he went to the president’s house Chen Shui-bian had not been at home, but the first lady had received him. She had even given him a tour of the special facilities in her bathroom, which he described to prove that he had been there. Afterwards, Chen Shui-bian had personally called him to say thank you. He claimed he had in his possession many pieces of evidence and tape-recordings to back his allegations. He said he would take a polygraph test in the United States if needed. Pan-blue legislators said Chen Yu-hao’s claims were hard evidence that Chen Shui-bian had lied about the donations he had received, and therefore he should step down. The presidential spokesman clarified that Chen Yu-hao had never been to visit the president’s

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home, and the first lady not only had never accepted any donations from him, she also had never met with him privately. Chen Yu-hao responded immediately, saying that he would jump to his death from a tall building if his accusations were proven false. He hinted at the identity of the DPP official who had accompanied him: “This person has a great sense of justice and he had kept his promises and he never lies.”15 He also said he was making the revelations in order to clear his undeserved standing as one of Taiwan’s top ten fugitives. He told the China Times Express that his revelations were not about the legality of his donations. The donations were all legal. They were simply about the president’s honesty. First Lady Wu Shu-chen countered that if Chen Yu-hao wanted to commit suicide he should just go ahead. She would not be able to stop him. Emphasizing that she had never seen Chen Yu-hao, on March 4 she even went to the District Attorney’s office in Taipei to sue Chen Yu-hao for defamation and for violating the Election Law, which forbids actions to intentionally unfairly influence a presidential election. She also described her 1998 interview with the China Times when Chen Shui-bian was Taipei mayor. The article had contained a detailed description of the bathroom in her house and included many pictures of the bathroom and bedroom. She mocked Chen Yu-hao saying that he should have read the magazine before making up the story. His description was totally wrong. Chen Yu-hao held a press conference to clear his name at the Los Angeles Hilton on March 14, 2004. He displayed withdrawal receipts saying that they provided evidence of the amounts given to the two DPP officials. In addition, he showed 13 receipts totaling NT$10 million (US$300,000; from a restaurant, an audio equipment firm, an advertising company, and a pencil factory) that he said he received in a money-laundering scheme after paying out that sum on behalf of the DPP. This NT$10 million was in addition to the NT$10 million the DPP already acknowledged. Chen Yu-hao also said he possessed an additional receipt for NT$300,000 from the DPP. Thus, his total donation had been NT$20.3 million, not NT$10 million as previously stated. He also revealed the name of the DPP leader who had accompanied him to the president’s home. His driver appeared at the press conference to support the claim. He next presented the results of a lie-detector test that he said proved he was telling the truth. Finally, Chen Yu-hao complained that the first lady should not ask him to commit suicide. He challenged the first lady to put her hand over her heart and swear on her life that she was not lying, asking three times: “Dare you? Dare you? Dare you?”16


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A spokesperson for the first lady remarked that if Chen Yu-hao would come back to Taiwan to stand trial, she would dare to take a polygraph test with him. The Presidential Office clarified that the NT$300,000 receipt was issued to Tuntex after the NT$10 million donation for tax purposes as that is the maximum donation a company can use to offset its taxes. After the DPP paid the restaurant and the advertisement company for performing campaign services, receipts had been issued to Tuntex “in order to provide a statement of the company’s expenses”17 (not an uncommon practice in Taiwan). All of these receipts, they explained, were part of the original donation of NT$10 million. After two days of avoiding the media, DPP Legislator Shen Fu-hsiung, a friend of Chen Yu-hao’s since childhood and the DPP official Chen Yu-hao said accompanied him to the first lady’s residence, broke his silence. Legislator Shen explained that ten years ago when Chen Yu-hao was one of Taiwan’s top businessmen Chen Yu-hao had often made donations to politicians out of respect. “So when I would accompany him, he made me look good because I was not good at raising money for the DPP.”18 He clarified that back then making a donation was not seen as a bad thing. Then he spoke in riddles. Although he did not directly state it, he implied that he had gone to the first lady’s residence and that she had accepted a donation. He also suggested that it was possible he was just lying to set up the first lady and the president or that he was delusional. Despite Shen’s statement, popular opinion in Taiwan was not with Chen Yu-hao. For example, when the host of a popular call-in TV show brought up Chen Yu-hao on one of his programs, he referred to Chen Yu-hao as one who had taken Taiwan’s money, sucked the blood of Taiwanese, and gone to China to invest. He said Chen Yu-hao had procured an American passport, and then turned around and scolded Taiwanese and slandered the duly elected Taiwanese president. Critics of Chen Shui-bian point out that although the court had not made any judgment on Chen Yu-hao (because he fled the country), many people in Taiwan had already reached a verdict, forcing Chen Yu-hao to remain in exile. This great injustice, they claim, is evidence of the underhanded tactics of Chen Shui-bian. What is notable about Chen Yu-hao’s accusation is the length of time it remained as front-page news. Early on, some pan-blue legislators had tried to suggest that Chen Shui-bian had himself pocketed the money from Chen Yu-hao. When the DPP campaign headquarters was able to produce receipts, they suggested the DPP was bestowing financial favors on Chen Yu-hao, even though Chen Yu-hao himself

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had conceded that he did not ask for anything in return for his donations, and neither Chen Shui-bian nor his wife had promised anything. Furthermore, the government had only assisted Tuntex as part of a KMT policy initiated in 1997 to aid businesses hit by the Asian financial crisis. The charge that stuck in the end was not that Chen took illegal donations, or even that he had provided favors in return for legal donations, but rather that he had not told the truth in refusing to acknowledge the legal donations that he had received. This supposed fact was yet more evidence of the sneaky, slippery nature of Chen Shui-bian. On top of that, a well-respected businessman had been wrongly maligned and was not able to return home. That Chen would allow another person to suffer such a fate so that he could personally benefit in his election campaign made his integrity even more questionable in the eyes of many pan-blue supporters. This episode is one the pan-blues point to as an example that the pan-greens use any connection with China to discredit people and to reinforce anti-China sentiment: They believe Chen Yu-hao was painted as robbing the Taiwanese people to benefit China (promoting Taiwanese consciousness), and his connection with China was used as evidence of his malevolent intentions in Taiwan (enhancing anti-China sentiment). This episode also demonstrates a general suspicion on the part of the pan-blues that laws are not being followed, although there is something to be said for the argument that it is their own familiarity with disregarding the law that allows them to be so easily convinced that others are doing it. In the end, it was not the larger issues of upholding Taiwan’s laws or finding justice for an individual that the pan-blues focused on. Instead, all of these events were used to paint a picture of Chen Shui-bian as dishonest and willing to say or do whatever was necessary to get elected. These arguments were trotted out again in the wake of the election as a basis for overturning it and as proof of the depths to which Chen Shui-bian would go—even to the extent of staging his own shooting.

C hapter 8

Protests and Conflict

Never has a man who has bent himself been able to make others straight. Mencius

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he hand-in-hand rally accomplished what the pan-green camp had so far been unable to do. For the first time the pan-blue lead in the election campaign narrowed to within the margin of error of the polls. The rally’s call for unity against the missile threat and the “yes to Taiwan, no to China” theme enhanced a sense of Taiwanese nationalism and promoted Chen Shui-bian’s image as strong leader willing to stand up for Taiwan. Thereafter, the referendum could be cast as a continuation of the rally’s momentum, positioning the pan-greens as leaders on the two key issues of national identity and democratic reform. These issues have appeal not just for core pan-green supporters, but to swing voters as well. Pan-blue leaders may not have been too worried by Chen’s sudden surge in the polls as the Kuomintang (KMT) and People First Party (PFP) together were thought to have a larger support base than the pan-greens and had maintained a consistent lead in campaign polls. Their main concern was low voter turnout. The general consensus was that whereas pan-green enthusiasts were likely to turn out regardless of weather or last-minute campaign messages, pan-blue supporters, who are seen as having a higher educational background, were more fickle and more influenced by mudslinging. Thus, in the days just before the election, Lien Chan urged each of his supporters to convince at least six friends and relatives to vote for him so that he could be sure to achieve victory. Going into the last week before the election (when poll results are not allowed to be published) the race was neck-and-neck, with both sides predicting victory. On the afternoon before the election, President Chen and Vice President Lu were shot while campaigning in southern Taiwan.

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The wounds from the bullets turned out to be superficial, but the consequences of the bullets were anything but. President Chen was hit in the abdomen and Vice President Lu in the knee as they rode standing side-by-side in an open-top jeep through a city near the president’s hometown in southern Taiwan. Was China involved? Was it a conspiracy? Or, was it simply a criminal case? Would there be more attacks? No one knew. Due to the lack of clarity of the situation, both sides called off their election-eve rallies and campaign activities and urged citizens to remain calm. But, everywhere in Taiwan the only topic of discussion was the shooting. Pan-blues intimated or outright stated that Chen had staged the shooting to win sympathy votes. Some, such as KMT publicist and talk-show host Sisy Chen, even accused him of faking his wounds, and Sisy Chen said she had received a tip from an anonymous nurse that the national security system was involved in the conspiracy. The pan-greens tried to maintain an image of strength in the face of having an injured candidate and suggested that A-Bian [the familiar name for the president] “had stopped a bullet for Taiwan’s people” (he had stood up for Taiwan despite personal risk for the benefit of Taiwan’s people). Underground radio stations, which are most common in southern Taiwan, speculated that the pan-blues had cooperated with the Chinese to shoot Chen. The next day the election went forward under the Central Election Commission’s (CEC) direction that according to the Presidential and Vice-Presidential Election and Recall Law (hereafter Election Law), only if a candidate died could the election be postponed. As the votes trickled in on election night, people around Taiwan gathered anxiously at rallies and around their TV sets to learn the final outcome. Those tuned in to channels with management supportive of the pan-blue camp watched through the afternoon as their candidates slowly acquired a lead of nearly a million votes over the pan-green candidates. One channel which had held the nation’s first-ever exit poll, announced around 5:30 PM that Lien and Soong led by 6 percent. People watching the channel operated by pro-green management saw their candidates trail early on, but then maintain a small but steady lead throughout the afternoon until the CEC released the final tally. Chen and Lu won by a tiny margin of 0.228 percent or about 29,000 votes out of over 13 million cast, with an 80-percent voter turnout. Those watching pro-pan-blue channels had a completely different experience. As the CEC results came out, their stations added together final vote tallies from polling stations around Taiwan and did a mighty

P rotests and Conflict

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flip-flop to reveal the green camp victory. Pan-blue supporters watched in shock as their candidate, Lien Chan, took the stage to make his sad announcement. But they and the rest of Taiwan got an even bigger shock when Lien announced not his concession, but his refusal to admit defeat. Lien proclaimed the election to have been unfair and also invalid due to the Democratic Progressive Party’s (DPP) violation of the Election Law. This chapter examines the protests immediately following the election, which had the potential to provoke intervention from China and culminated with accusations of a soft coup. Each side claimed the other was damaging Taiwan’s democracy and prolonging social discord. Constitutional and legal issues arose as conflict intensified and the proper course of action became uncertain. Of particular note was the widespread lack of trust among the general population in their politicians and government institutions, as well as a lack of belief in the ability of the legal system to arrive at justice.

The Election is Invalid After acknowledging his appreciation to his supporters, Lien Chan urged the crowd at the KMT headquarters to remain calm and rational because “who won or lost is not the issue to be discussed right now.”1 He said that the margin between the two candidates was very small, rare for any election in any country. He emphasized that there had been no explanation of the shooting before the election and that the shooting had resulted in a “gap” in the election outcome. This gap coupled with many other suspicious matters had clearly left people with a strong impression that the election was unfair and aroused “layers upon layer of doubts”: If we keep silent, how can this generation face history, democracy, the 23 million people of Taiwan, and future generations? . . . I’ve decided, and the alliance has unanimously agreed with me, to file a lawsuit to have the election declared invalid.2

The crowds gathered in front of the KMT headquarters chanted, “Invalid, invalid, invalid.” Lien said that there were too many unacceptable events, too many questions. “It was not a sole action, but a series of unfair actions that influenced the election. . . . If Taiwan really cannot lose, now is the time that Taiwan should not lose.”3 He demanded that the CEC immediately seal all ballet boxes.

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James Soong also addressed the crowd, saying that he himself was not important, but the democracy of Taiwan was of the utmost importance: What is at stake here is Taiwan’s democracy. Democracy is Taiwan’s most effective weapon against China. What kind of self-defense will we have if we destroy the weapon ourselves? . . . This unfair election was full of doubtful points. This unfair election clearly shows the results of political manipulations from the very beginning of campaigning to the end of the election. This is something known to all.4

Soong urged everyone to support Lien’s decision, saying that an unfair election is not an asset to Taiwan’s future stability. A few hours later, lawyers representing Lien and Soong went to file a lawsuit with Taiwan’s High Court and the Administrative Supreme Court. Asking for fairness, justice, and transparency they demanded that the CEC seize and seal all ballot boxes in every county and city of Taiwan and conduct an immediate recount. They also wanted the election invalidated because the unexplained shooting had influenced the results. A few hundred supporters gathered outside the prosecutor’s office in Taipei and in other major cities around Taiwan demanding a recount. PFP politicians played the crowds and heightened emotions, seemingly goading people into action. For example, in Taichung, a PFP lawmaker came out from the Prosecutors Office and told the several-hundred protesters gathered there that prosecutors would only agree to recount some of the ballots. The crowd gradually got out of control as a few protesters began to push their way through barriers set up by the police. They smashed the glass doors of the prosecutor’s office. In Kaohsiung, a couple-of-hundred pan-blue supporters gathered in front of the Prosecutors Office to protest, sing songs, and chant slogans. As the police tried to calm protesters, PFP Legislator Chiu Yi used a megaphone to shout that the police were interfering with their “free will to speak out,” rousing the crowd’s anger.5 A campaign truck with Chiu shrieking into a megaphone atop it rammed the building’s iron gate. Insisting he would initiate a referendum to impeach Chen Shui-bian, Chiu demanded that the Chen administration publish all the details of the shooting incident. Although some officers were injured, police did not force dispersal, and there were no arrests. Apart from these relatively minor scuffles, elsewhere in Taiwan, including Taipei, there were no reports of violence.


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In Taipei, a crowd of several thousand gathered outside the KMT headquarters, which is just a few hundred meters from the Presidential Office. They waved flags and blew air horns demanding an immediate recount. Pan-blue politicians addressed the crowd throughout the night at once urging calm and stirring up the emotions. A New Party legislator addressed the crowd saying, “If these two bullets change the election we should allow a third and fourth bullet to save Taiwan [they would not miss].”6 He claimed to have evidence of vote-rigging in southern Taiwan. Supporters chanted “the election is invalid,” and blasted their air horns. Sometime after midnight Lien and Soong joined the crowd. Calling for a sit-down protest, they led about 300 people to the Presidential Office around 4:00 AM. Around 6:30 AM on March 21, the Presidential Office Military Police held their daily ceremony to raise the national flag. James Soong asked the crowd to stand and sing the national anthem. After the flag was raised everyone shouted “ROC forever” and blasted their air horns. Around ten in the morning, a KMT legislator came to pump up the crowd announcing that the United States still had not congratulated Chen Shui-bian, which he said meant that it also questioned whether the election had been fair. “Our request is simple and clear—to examine the ballots immediately. We hope there can be a fair election. We also hope people will come out to protest the unfair election.”7 He called for people not to retreat, but to “protest to the very end!” Technically, the gathering in front of the Presidential Office was in violation of the Assembly and Parade Law as no permit had been arranged with Taipei City for a demonstration. The police repeatedly warned people to disperse and brought water cannons into the vicinity on standby. Pan-blue leaders did not ask protestors to leave, and, in fact, some urged them to remain. Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou, who was also a vice chairman of the KMT and the pan-blue national campaign manager, waffled in his handling of the situation, which suggests his responsibility to restore order as mayor of Taipei conflicted with his inclinations as campaign manager and perhaps his political aspirations. On election night he made no statements to or about the demonstrators congregating outside the pan-blue headquarters and the Presidential Office, and no appeal to pan-blue lawmakers to refrain from stirring up the crowds. Instead he remarked, “I believe that people will disperse automatically as long as their demands get some kind of response.”8 Instead of breaking up the illegal protest, as had been done four years before when disappointed voters mobbed the KMT headquarters in the wake of Lien Chan’s first loss, Ma chose to make the protest legal.

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At a press conference the morning after the election, he announced that he had negotiated arrangements for the protesters to legally remain in front of the Presidential Office until 10 PM. After that, they would have to disperse. He still managed to convey a mixed message telling protesters to be rational and demonstrate self-restraint, but also saying that it was the candidates’ right to appeal the result of the election, thus implying it was also the protesters right to remain in the area. Over the following days Mayor Ma quibbled with the central government as to who should be responsible for dispersing protesters. He later urged the central government to take over responsibility for handling the crowds, saying the city government was incapable of handling such a highly political controversy. He explained that “the protest will not come to an end as long as the protesters do not get a positive response to their appeals from the central government.” He stated that it was the central government’s responsibility to handle it and that people would leave as soon as the Cabinet or the president promised to start recounting the ballots.9 He later issued a permit for the pan-blue camp supporters to rally during the week and for a large rally planned for the following Saturday, which he also participated in. After that rally, he rebuked the central government for trying to intervene in dispersing the crowd. At four in the afternoon on Sunday, March 21, the day after the election, Lien and Soong returned to the rally, much to the excitement of the crowd. Lien announced the three requests he was making to the government: First, the government should organize a team of people to examine the bullets and the medical evidence and answer all questions about the shooting as soon as possible. Second, he demanded immediate inspection of all ballots with justice and transparency. Third, he wanted an investigation into the invocation of the national security mechanism in the wake of the shooting, which he said had caused 200,000 soldiers and police to be unable to return to their hometowns to vote. Lien demanded that President Chen come out and respond to these requests so the protesters could go home. That evening, the Cabinet responded, saying that the legal system was handling both the ballot inspection and the shooting incident, and they would not interfere with its independent operation. In Taiwan, the judicial authorities are independent of the executive branch, and judges are not political appointees but civil servants who hold their jobs for life and who are not allowed to be affiliated with any political party. According to Taiwan’s constitution they must hold trials independently and be free from interference. The premier condemned


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the pan-blue alliance’s use of a populist appeal to demand swift action as unacceptable. At this critical moment, I’m calling on leaders of the assembled groups to exercise utmost prudence and restraint. While we understand their disappointment, it’s simply not worth hurting the nation’s international image because they’ve lost one election.10

People remained outside the Presidential Office even after the rally’s permit expired, and continued their vigil through the week. The number of protesters would increase to the thousands in the evenings as people left work and then drop to a few hundred, who remained overnight. Television and music celebrities put in appearances, and there were continual speeches for entertainment. The pan-blue camp also provided free food and water to the protesters and set up tents. Widespread rumors suggested that those who held the fort overnight were being paid a stipend of NT$300 (US$9) per day, and that an email circulated among pan-green supporters calling on them to go and fight black gold by eating as much of the pan-blue camp’s free food as possible.

The Pan-Blue Camp’s Concerns The pan-blues focused on three main concerns: systematic fraud at the ballot box, the bizarre shooting, and improper invocation of the national security mechanism. In light of the heated controversies described in chapter 7, it is clear that even before the election, among Chen Shuibian’s critics there was already a foundation of deeply negative emotion, discontent, and the conviction that Chen was willing to go to any lengths to get what he wanted. This foundation coupled with disappointment with the results of the election gave rise to the extended protests and riots and are ostensibly the reason that even six months after the election, the losing side still had not recognized Chen as president. The pan-blues called for a recount on the basis of voting irregularities and an unusually high number of invalid ballots. As evidence they cited incidents in southern Taiwan such as the following:11 Three people discovered that others had picked up their ballots. They were issued new ballots but the earlier three ballots were unaccounted for. A ballot for Lien was mistakenly reported as for Chen. The mistake was corrected after objections from two local councilors. At two polling stations, the presidential and referendum ballots were counted simultaneously in violation of the electoral rules.

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A second pan-blue concern was the unusually large number of invalid ballots. However, the Alliance of Casting One Million Invalid Ballots had conducted a campaign just prior to the election to convince voters unsatisfied with their options to simply spoil their ballot in protest. Also, the pan-blue dominated legislature had recently revised the definition of what constitutes a spoiled ballot, making the requirements stricter than in previous years. That is, 20 types of mismarked ballots that had been allowed previously would now be ruled invalid. For example, in the past it has not been uncommon for illiterate people to chop the picture of their candidate instead of the indicated square, a practice that under the new regulations would make the ballot invalid. Likewise, signing one’s name instead of using the provided chop now also results in a spoiled ballot. The legal course of action for a recount was clear. According to the Election Law, the CEC first has to certify the results of the election before a lawsuit can be filed with the High Court to overturn those results. The official announcement of the results was slated for March 26. After that, the lawsuit could be filed, but evidence of election fraud would be required to proceed with a recount. Once an investigation had been conducted and the evidence substantiated, a judicial recount could be held. The whole process could take up to six months. This process was too slow for the pan-blue camp to bear as they feared delay would allow for evidence tampering and blocking of the recount. Thus, the pan-blues first proposed skipping the legal process required for a judicial recount in favor of an administrative recount, which they said could be conducted immediately by the CEC if more than half of the commission members agreed. However, there was no basis in Taiwan law for holding an administrative recount, so the DPP suggested amending the Election Law to allow for an automatic administrative recount when the difference between the total number of votes for each pair of candidates is less than 1 percent and applying it retroactively. However, it would still have taken a couple of weeks to change the Election Law, so even this was not fast enough. A pan-blue counter proposal was for President Chen to declare an emergency decree for an immediate administrative recount. This President Chen refused to do on the grounds that it would be an inappropriate use of that power, although he agreed to the necessity of the recount and also recognized the urgency to initiate the process. The pan-greens agreed to amend the Election Law so that a recount would be instituted automatically whenever a vote was close and to apply the amendment retroactively. However, the pan-blues then attached a rider allowing the legislature to establish an ad hoc


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commission to investigate the election-eve shooting. Pan-greens saw the rider as an encroachment on judiciary power and refused to accept it, so the proposed amendment stalled. Pan-blue legislators also suggested a “harm article” stating that if any presidential candidate is harmed or killed within the seven days prior to an election, the vote should be called off and rescheduled for three to six months after the release of an investigation report. Of course, this proposal was also unacceptable to the pan-greens. In addition to stalling the recount amendment with unrelated proposals, KMT and PFP lawmakers also refused to attend a special legislative session aimed at discussing the amendment. Why would the pan-blues delay a piece of legislation that seemed to help them achieve their goal of a recount? There are two likely reasons. First, the amendment would have provided for an administrative recount conducted by the CEC, which would oversee the recount and correct any errors in tabulation. The pan-blues did not really trust the CEC, but more important, they preferred a judicial recount, which would not only allow for a recount of valid ballots, but also permit judges and public prosecutors to examine the 337,000 spoiled ballots to determine their validity. The second reason for the pan-blues to obstruct this legislation is that a recount was unlikely to alter the result. Taiwan’s procedure for counting ballots is one of the most transparent in the world. While there might be a way to influence whether or not particular individuals go to vote, or who they vote for, the actual counting of the ballots is exceedingly difficult to tamper with. Ballots are pulled from the box one by one and announced and then verified by a representative from each party and then recorded. The process is open to public viewing. With the realization that no matter how the ballots were recounted the result was unlikely to be in their favor, the pan-blues began to shift their focus to invalidating the election due to the shooting or invocation of the national security mechanism, rather than relying on overturning the result through a recount. The pan-blues charged that President Chen had been involved in staging his own shooting, some even claimed that his wounds were faked, and that the event had unfairly influenced the election. They pointed to many peculiar points about the event as evidence of President Chen’s involvement in the conspiracy. For example, some found it incredible that the president and vice president had been riding together in an open-topped vehicle along a parade route at which firecrackers were being set off. The vehicle was not bullet-proof and they were not wearing bullet-proof vests. The driver was not from the

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National Security Bureau, and they had been shot at fairly close range without their security personnel even knowing it had happened. They had continued along the parade route for some distance as normal before realizing what had happened and speeding off to the hospital. Furthermore, critics believed the crime scene had been handled with a complete lack of professionalism. Many people had touched the bullet casings found at the scene so identification of fingerprints was impossible. The bullets were homemade, and investigators had been unable to determine what type of pistol had been used in the shooting. Others speculated that the hospital to which Chen had been delivered after the shooting had received advance warning of his emergency arrival and that medical personnel had tampered with Chen’s and Lu’s medical records. Some questioned why they would have been taken to the Chi Mei Medical Center instead of other closer hospitals. They also pointed to the video footage of President Chen walking into the hospital rather than being carried in as indication that he had not been shot, and found it unlikely that a bullet could wind up caught in a person’s clothes, which is where the bullet that hit Chen ended up. Evidence offered by administration officials and investigators did nothing to assuage pan-blue suspicions. Presidential Office Secretary General Chiou I-jen explained that according to security contingency measures, the hospital used was the usual one designated for that city in the event of an emergency. The Criminal Investigation Bureau (CIB) ruled out the possibility the shooting was staged saying that no one could shoot at people standing in a moving jeep without a great chance of killing the targets. DNA evidence proved that the blood on the bullets belonged to Chen and Lu. Despite physicians’ detailed descriptions to the media of Chen’s 11 cm wound and 14 stitches and the vice president’s knee wounds, accusations the wounds had been faked to gain sympathy votes did not abate. The day after the election the Presidential Office released a number of photos of the president being treated for the bullet wound, and appealed to the public to trust investigators and the legal system to handle the case properly. On March 23, President Chen invited the heads of the five branches of government (Yuans) to tea in order to present an explanation of the shooting. He said that immediately after being wounded he had not wanted to talk about the experience or release the bloody pictures for fear of influencing the election. However, as there were still many people with questions and doubts even about the fact of the shooting, he was willing to allow the five heads of the Yuans to view his wounds and vouch for them.


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He also recalled his experience on that day to address lingering doubts. At first when he had felt pain, he had assumed he must have been hit by one of the many firecrackers being set off along the parade route. He had asked his aide to apply some medical ointment and decided to keep to the schedule and continue along the parade route. He had seen the blood on Lu’s knee and assumed she too had been hit by a firecracker. It was not until the bullet hole was noticed in the windshield of the jeep that they had realized firecrackers could not be the culprit, and so diverted to the hospital. Upon his arrival at the hospital, President Chen said he had been asked to lie on a stretcher or sit in a wheelchair. He described what went through his mind at that time. “First, I am the president. A president can not just lie down so easily. Second, I am also a presidential candidate and leader of the pan-green camp. As the leader, I could not lie down so easily unless I really could not stand.”12 He had not wanted to appear weak; he could still stand, and so he walked in on his own two feet. President Chen recognized that some people doubted that the shooting was real, which he said was understandable given the tension of the election. However, as he and the vice president were the ones wounded, he emphasized that they wished to know the truth more than anyone and welcomed anyone willing to assist the special task force convened by the National Police Administration and the Ministry of Justice. President Chen accepted the two experts recommended by the pan-blues to join the special task force, one of whom was TaiwaneseAmerican Dr. Henry Lee, one of the world’s foremost forensic scientists (made famous by his participation in the O.J. Simpson trial) and a former Taipei police captain. These invited experts would be allowed full control of their investigations and authorized to invite any other professionals needed. On March 29, three American experts in ballistics and crime scene identification arrived in Taiwan to collect evidence to take back to the United States for analysis and discussion with Dr. Henry Lee. One of them was a coroner involved in the Kennedy assassination investigation. Their initial analysis confirmed that President Chen sustained a gunshot wound to his abdomen. They dismissed speculation that the wound could have been caused otherwise as a “complete misconception.”13 Addressing the concern that it was suspicious that the bullet conveniently ended up in the president’s jacket, the ballistics expert said, “It’s not unheard of for bullets to be just about to pump out of somebody who’s been shot, or out of their skin, and to be found in somebody’s clothing.”14 They also addressed the so-called magic trajectory of the bullet that passed through the windshield of the jeep

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and hit the vice president’s knee. Skeptics claimed such a trajectory was impossible, but the experts explained, “As soon as (the bullet) changes the medium that it’s in, air to glass, air to wood, or air to water, then deflection occurs and the bullet’s path can change.”15 Their conclusion was that “everything is completely consistent—no discrepancies, nothing strange” and that the investigation of the incident was being conducted in a “completely open way—not the way it was done in 1963 in America” (referring to the Warren Commission).16 Asked if they could tell when the wound was inflicted, the experts noted that it had been 12 days since the event and the wound was not inconsistent with that amount of time, but it would be impossible to set the exact amount of time that had elapsed because every person heals differently. Henry Lee himself visited Taiwan on April 9 and confirmed that President Chen had sustained a gunshot wound to the abdomen. He also verified that the bullet that went through the windshield of the jeep had been fired from outside the right front of the jeep and that it had been the one to hit Lu, although he could not determine from exactly where the bullet had been fired. The second bullet had been the one to hit President Chen, and it, too, could not possibly have been self-inflicted. These findings disposed of two conspiracy theories: one that the candidates had shot themselves, and the other that the bodyguard standing behind Lu had shot them. Dr. Lee also stated that he could rule out a professional hit, pointing out that a professional assassin would use a more powerful gun and aim at the chest, heart, or head. The weapon used in the shooting was made in an illegal workshop and the bullets were homemade. He confirmed the CIB’s competence, saying that the physical evidence had not been contaminated. The pan-blues came up with a new theory. If Chen did not shoot himself, then he must have had himself shot. They pointed out that Dr. Lee could not speak to motive, and continued to call for a second independent investigation by a legislative committee instead of the judiciary. They argued that it was important to get all the details because the shooting had influenced the election and had allowed Chen to initiate the national security mechanism, preventing 200,000 people from voting. This activation of the national security mechanism also required investigation by an independent task force, according to the panblues. At the March 22 press conference that Lien and Soong held for the foreign journalists in Taiwan, a reporter asked how the KMT and PFP arrived at the number 200,000, and how they could be so sure


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that they would all vote for the pan-blue ticket. Their answer was that ranking officers in the military had provided the information on how many soldiers could not go home to vote. They estimated Taiwan to have about 400,000 troops and figured about half had been prevented from voting and pointed out that the military and the police have tended to support the pan-blues. However, the Ministry of National Defense (MND) clarified that although the military’s emergency-response mechanism had been activated after the shooting, the alert level had not been raised as the armed forces are already on alert during a presidential election period.17 The emergency response mechanism did not affect the normal process by which soldiers went back to their hometowns to vote. Around 38,000 troops had been on duty on March 20. During previous elections, about one-third of these would have been allowed special short-term leave vote, but due to a 2003 procedural revision, this leave was no longer available during presidential elections. Furthermore, some enlisted men are not yet of voting age (21 years), and the turnout rate for soldiers is lower than that of the general population. In the midst of this controversy over soldiers’ ability to vote, Tang Yao-ming, the minister of national defense resigned his position. His resignation was seen as significant for a number of reasons. First, Tang was born in Taiwan and was the first Taiwanese head of the army, appointed by President Lee Teng-hui as part of his localization policy in the military. In April 2002 when the integration of the military and administrative system was completed, Tang, who had contributed greatly to the reform, became the first Taiwanese defense minister. That he was abandoning the Chen administration at this critical time was seen as significant. Second, Tang’s resignation was important inasmuch as there were still crowds of pan-blue supporters around the Presidential Office and government forces might be called upon to dispel the crowds. Because of the protests there was the added concern of increased threat from China, so the military had remained on alert and prepared for action. Many people wondered whether the military really did support Lien and Soong, and, if so, would there be a coup? Many of Chen Shui-bian’s critics saw Tang’s resignation as evidence that Tang opposed Taiwan’s independence and disagreed with the referendum. Minster Tang had been invited to present a report to the legislature at a special meeting on the Taiwan Strait and arms purchase plans. He was also supposed to be questioned about the activation of the emergency response system on the night of the shooting. Tang did not

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show up at the meeting; he went to the hospital for eye surgery. His deputy defense minister addressed the legislature on his behalf. At the meeting, pan-blue legislators suggested that implementation of the national security system had been unnecessary considering the superficial nature of the president’s and vice president’s wounds and that it had caused 200,000 soldiers and police to be unable to return to their hometowns to vote. The deputy defense minister responded that only 13,000 troops had been unable to vote, and that this was the standard number during any presidential election because of the threat from China. The troops’ status had nothing to do with the emergency response system. Indeed, two days before the shooting local papers had indeed reported that the military would strengthen its air and sea patrols and that these “armed forces stay on alert around the clock during the election period.”18 The day before the shooting a defense official was reported to have said that the military had put special operations units on alert in case of any unrest in the wake of the election.19 A PFP legislator criticized Tang’s absence, suggesting he was not really sick, and if he was sick it was a political sickness. The director of the military hospital at which Tang received treatment later provided evidence that Tang’s left eye had a long-term medical problem that had required treatment more than 20 times. Recently it had become worse. Tang also noted he had expressed a wish to step aside last year, so that a civilian could be appointed as defense minister, but that he had stayed on to see the elections through. Still, some people clearly believed that Tang’s refusal to appear before the legislature was evidence that the national security mechanism had been abused; Tang was unwilling to lie for Chen Shui-bian, so he had not appeared. An hour after the national defense department made public Tang’s resignation letter, the premier held a press conference. He had requested Tang stay on and Tang had agreed to do so until May when the president was sworn in and the new Cabinet formed.

We Want the Truth, We Fight for Justice, We Will Save Democracy On the Saturday following the election, March 27, 2004, the KMT-PFP alliance led a large-scale protest rally with the theme “we want the truth, we fight for justice, we will save democracy.” Thousands of people flooded into Taipei on tour buses to join in the rally in the broad boulevard in front of the Presidential Office and the surrounding


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roads. At its peak the crowds swelled to upwards of 400,000 people. They carried signs demanding “We want the truth” and “Chen step down.” Many held signs reading “democracy is dead” and “bulletgate.” In one area a funeral was held for democracy and a 15-foot replica of the statue of liberty was paraded through the crowd. Speakers addressed the crowd throughout the rally. Ahead of the demonstration there were concerns that violence could erupt. A number of pan-blue lawmakers warned that they would carry out a “big action” at the demonstration and were willing to sacrifice their lives, and the pan-blue spokesman had confirmed that several had already written a final letter to their friends and relatives.20 One PFP Legislator had announced he would drive a bulldozer to the event, while PFP Legislator Chiu Yi warned that he would lead a siege on the Presidential Office. There were rumors of plans to provoke violence or to fake pan-green violence by having people dress up as pan-green supporters. The Taipei City police received tips from within the pan-blue camp that gangsters might be involved in the rally. The Cabinet spokesman said that emails were circulating on the Internet, calling soldiers to take up arms.21 Concerns were especially high as the previous day several pan-blue lawmakers had gone to the CEC to prevent the meeting to certify the outcome of the election. When they were unsuccessful, a PFP legislator warned the CEC: “This could cause a volcano to erupt. It’s like a match that could ignite the fuse to a powder keg.”22 PFP Legislator Chiu Yi called for a revolution and led a crowd of several hundred protesters in scuffling with riot police and throwing rocks and eggs in an attempt to prevent the CEC from posting its official announcement of Chen Shui-bian as the new president. Some reports suggested that those involved in the violence at the CEC were gangsters hired to stir up trouble. Even more disturbing was China’s Taiwan Affairs Office announcement that “we will not sit back and look on unconcerned should the post-election situation in Taiwan get out of control” raising the concern that if rioting broke out, China might interpret it as an opportunity to use force.23 Lien Chan addressed the crowds at the rally saying that there had been many points of dispute since the election campaigns began. First, Chen Shui-bian had inappropriately applied the new Referendum Law and combined the referendum with the presidential election. Then, he had used emotional appeals to gain voter support. He had manipulated people by saying that the world is watching and that failure to pass the referendum would be a victory for China. Lien also quoted Chen as saying he would rather lose the election than change the path of the

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referendum. Lien pointed out the trickery of this statement. Chen had used these reasons to seek voter support; however, the two referendum issues did not pass, but Chen won the election. He had never mentioned the referendum again since the election. “What is going on? Is the referendum no longer important?” asked Lien.24 Lien Chan also reminded supporters of the many questionable dealings of Chen Shui-bian and his wife Wu Shu-chen. Neither of them had provided a proper response to the charges of financial impropriety leveled against them. Chen Yu-hao’s accusations had just come to a head and everyone was poised to find out whether Wu Shu-chen had lied, when the shooting occurred and the matter was forgotten. Lien said that it was no wonder that DPP Legislator Shen (who was said to have accompanied Chen Yu-hao to the president’s home) had said that the two bullets that hit Chen and Lu were smart bullets. Lien asserted that the whole case is covered with doubt and questions. The government does not respond to people’s questions and they still want to remain in power. This manipulation and abuse has made many middle-class people feel deeply insulted and angry so they have responded to our call and walked out on the street and gathered in this area to ask for the truth. . . . What we are striving for here is not about an individual’s position or a party’s success or failure. . . . We are here because we are concerned whether the country’s ruling government has acquired its power through trickery, and thus its authority is ineffective, not real and deserves no respect.25

Lien reiterated his previous three requests for an independent investigation into the shooting, for a recount and for an explanation of the serviceman denied their right to vote. He warned that if Chen Shui-bian did not respond the pan-blues would be prepared to fight for the long term. “We will never stop until we have achieved our aims.”26 James Soong also addressed the crowd: “If we find out the truth and the election is declared invalid, I will resign my position as vicepresidential candidate and support Lien Chan to be the president.”27 He likely made this odd statement in reaction to an underground radio station’s suggestion that he was so ambitious that once elected, he would kill Lien Chan to become president himself. He carefully emphasized that he did not seek personal gain and fame and position. He only hoped for a fair election and a just society. He asked all panblue supporters to work together, to not allow themselves to become divided, and to say “no” to people who use the wrong way to gain power: “Today is a day of lofty sentiments and high aspirations of Taiwan’s democracy.”28


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Independent Legislator Sisy Chen took the stage to point out that Vice President Annette Lu had said that the protesters were talking nonsense. She wanted to ask Lu, “Do you think it is good to be elected by a bullet?” Sisy Chen said that Chen and Lu had combined the referendum and the election together and used professionals to pull off a shooting. “There may be many people who are proud of Chen Shui-bian, but there are even more people who feel shame because of Chen Shui-bian.”29 A famous singer, Lou Da-you, who had not sung in public for over a decade, joined the group on stage. He closed his eyes and sang a traditional Taiwanese folksong in his unique crying voice. When he finished his song, he slowly shouted out in Mandarin and English, “He who has used the most terrible way in the twenty-first century to influence an election and foster terror, that person is the greatest criminal.”30 The crowd around the stage joined him in shouting out “the greatest criminal” repeating after him word by word. Luo Da-you pointed his finger at the crowd and asked whether Taiwan’s society should be colorful. “It should contain the colors of the rainbow. There are so many beautiful colors, but since when are there only blue and green in Taiwan?” He pointed to the sky and asked “Why is the sky grey? It is because we do not know what is black and what is white.” After that Luo Da-you led the people in chanting “No green and blue just black and white!”31 Next to appear onstage was former DPP chairman, Hsu Hsin-liang. As he had been on a hunger strike for three days, his statement was read out for him by another former DPP representative. He said that no legal means can change the unfair and unjust election. “Therefore our great people should stand up and declare that Lien and Soong have been elected as president and vice president.” After the statement was read out for him he drank a sip of hot soybean milk to break his fast and took hold of the microphone. He bellowed in Mandarin, Taiwanese, and Hakka, “We use the will of the Taiwanese people to announce Lien and Soong are elected as the next president and vice president of the ROC!”32

The President’s Response The evening of Saturday, March 27 President Chen held his first press conference since the election.33 He responded to the requests, saying he hoped to meet with the opposition leaders on Monday to end the political crisis without his original precondition that they first disperse the protesters. President Chen explained that although there had been

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attempts at negotiations with the pan-blues to recount the ballots, progress was difficult because the pan-blues kept changing what they were asking for, from demanding a recount to declaring the entire election void, to demanding a reelection, and bringing up many points that had nothing to do with recounting the ballots. He recognized that the recount was not a legal problem but a political problem and a social problem. Unless there was a full inspection of all ballots, the criticism would never end. Therefore, he offered a new solution that would both follow the legal system of Taiwan and give Lien and Soong the full and immediate judicial recount they hoped for. The CEC had just certified the election results the previous day. Lien and Soong could now file a lawsuit for a recount. Chen explained that as it would be almost impossible for a court to mandate a recount based on evidence of election fraud (none of significance had emerged), he promised to sign a letter of consensus, which would remove the necessity of providing evidence and allow the recount to get underway immediately. Chen said he was not afraid of the recount and committed to completely accepting any outcome of the recount whether it was in his favor or not. He challenged Lien and Soong to make the same commitment. President Chen also addressed the concern relating to soldiers being unable to vote. He explained that when he and the vice president had been shot the situation had been unclear, so activation of the national security system had been necessary. However, activation of the system in no way influenced the number of people on duty and unable to vote. Two months before the election, the military already had drawn up the plan for who could go to vote and who would stay at their posts. The national security system did not affect this plan. He explained that a national security mechanism was created in 1996 due to China’s missile exercises in the Taiwan Strait. At that time, around one-sixth of the military’s personnel was asked to stay at their post, but this time it was only one-ninth. There was nothing inappropriate about it.34

Chen said that after invoking the national security system, only the leaders of the national security system had been unable to leave their offices, adding that all service records are available to be checked. As for the shooting, on Friday March 26 the state public prosecutorgeneral had already announced that a special independent task force would be established to investigate the shooting and that the two international experts recommended by the pan-blues would be invited


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to lead the forensics investigation. President Chen complained that many pan-blue supporters were still claiming that he himself was in on the shooting and that his wounds were faked and the medical records forged, which was a serious insult, asking, “Would I have to die before people would believe us?” He pointed out that the dean of the medical center where he had been treated was head of the Department of Health during KMT rule. “Would he lie for me?” Chen asked.35 Chen laid down a challenge to put to rest all accusations that the shooting had been arranged. He invited Lien Chan and James Soong to hire at his expense the best sharpshooter they could find. If they dared to stand in a jeep—the jeep did not even need to be moving—and the sharpshooter could give them the exact wounds as he and Lu had received, he vowed to resign immediately. “If they can’t do it or if they are afraid of doing it, they had better keep their mouths shut.”36 Chen promised he would meet with Lien and Soong, but before they could meet, their representatives held a meeting to work out details. Both sides immediately agreed that Lien and Soong would refile their lawsuit for a recount (their initial suit filed four days earlier was rejected on the grounds the CEC had yet to declare the winner), and that Chen would waive the need for evidence allowing a judicial recount to proceed straight away. They could not agree, however, with respect to the establishment of a team to investigate the shooting. The pan-blues’ representative proposed that President Chen issue a presidential emergency decree to establish a new independent task force with special legal powers composed of representatives from both sides as well as local and international experts. President Chen’s representative pointed out that an independent investigative team headed by the state public prosecutorgeneral and the pan-blue’s two recommended experts was already investigating the case; an emergency decree was not appropriate or necessary unless there was a major calamity facing the country, such as there had been with the September 21, 1999 earthquake. The pan-blues complained that the independent experts would only inspect the forensics evidence and the medical process; they had nothing to do with the investigating the motivation of the shooting or its influence on the election. They did not trust the rest of the team and also thought it inappropriate that the chief prosecutor heading the investigation had previously been promoted by the president. They believed the public would doubt the conclusions of such an investigation team. Realizing that they could not force a presidential decree, they next argued for legislation to establish a special truth commission with

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absolute authority to investigate and power to enforce its findings. When necessary this team would be able to employ investigators from any government agency and access any documents. No government agency could refuse them. It would also have special authority to summon witnesses, who would be liable to criminal punishment if suspected of giving false testimony. According to the pan-blues, this would be the only way to gain public trust. According to Minister of Justice Chen Ding-nan such legislation would constitute a double violation of the constitution because it would intrude on the investigative rights of the Control Yuan (the government body responsible for ensuring government employees fulfill their duties) and be a clear violation on the constitutional guarantee of judicial independence. DPP lawmakers noted that the legislature already had the power to convene an investigation committee with the authority to review documents across governmental agencies without the special law proposed by the pan-blues. Minister Chen pointed out that Article 80 of the constitution specifies that judicial officers must independently review cases based on the law and should not be interfered with by anyone. Article 58 specifies that national prosecutors are clearly part of the court. Thus, prosecutors and judges are both judicial officers and the principle of independent handling of cases also applies to prosecutors; neither prosecutors nor judges should be interfered with in any way. The shooting was already being handled by the prosecutors’ office in Tainan, the city where the even occurred, and by police investigators according to standard legal procedures. Minister Chen also pointed out that court-appointed officers handling investigations are constrained by certain limits and that the same should be true of any investigators appointed by the legislature. Yet the proposal set forth by the pan-blues imposed no such limits on investigators. Thus, if the legislature were to create a special law, not only would it constitute interference with the judiciary, contravening Article 80 of the constitution, it would also violate Article 95 of the constitution, which authorizes the Control Yuan to conduct investigations. When DPP representatives asserted that in light of Chen Ding-nan’s assessment they could not support the pan-blue’s request, a top KMT official responded that if the pan-greens would not support the establishment of the commission, it meant they had no sincere will to clarify the truth. It was therefore meaningless for Lien and Soong to meet with Chen Shui-bian. Chen would carry the shadow of two bullets throughout his life. He asserted that the pan-blues would continue to have more and bigger protests in the future.


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The Conflict Intensifies As the March 27 protest ended, authorities urged people to move to the nearby Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall plaza (CKS plaza) where they would not block traffic. Most departed, but several hundred remained, though their numbers dwindled into the night. Early Sunday morning around 200 diehards still refused to leave the area in front of the Presidential Office. Mayor Ma gave the order to expel them, and after light resistance with a few people throwing water bottles and plastic stools, an hour later the area was clear. The protesters withdrew to CKS plaza, where they were allowed to remain until Saturday, April 3. But, citing noise-pollution concerns, the CKS plaza administration refused to extend their permit for a demonstration past this time. By March 31, the Taipei Environmental Protection Bureau had already issued 15 noise-pollution tickets to the protest organizers. On April 3 the pan-blues held a “give back the truth to the people” rally at the CKS plaza as the city government would no longer issue a permit to protest in front of the Presidential Office. It attracted about 50,000 supporters, about 10 percent the number of the previous weekend. High ranking-officials from the PFP and KMT addressed the crowd. Lien Chan reminded the crowd that although the legal process for ballot inspection was underway in court, the situations surrounding activation of the national security system and the shooting were still unclear. He reasoned that unless Chen had a hidden secret about the shooting case, the truth would also benefit Chen Shui-bian and wondered why Chen dare not find out the truth. He suggested that President Chen controlled not only the CEC but also the staff at polling stations around Taiwan and asked why there were four or five times more invalid ballots than in previous elections. Answering his own question, he suggested that people used different names to vote more than once and that there were errors in calculating the votes. Lien expressed pride in his supporters for their rational and peaceful behavior. But, he urged “Mr. Chen Shui-bian” to be aware that the people do not have much patience, and advised him not to close his door and consider himself an emperor, explaining that if the government did not respond before April 10, ten times or a hundred times the number of people would come out to make Chen Shui-bian learn how to be humble and modest. The rally permit expired at 6 PM. Most of the crowd dispersed, but nearly a thousand protesters moved from the area within the CKS

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Plaza to the area in front of the Presidential Office and a few stormed the barbed wire barricades. About 1,500 riot police were summoned to the scene to disperse the crowd. After repeated soft approaches failed, Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou ordered police to start removing protesters around 1 AM. Their initial attempt persuaded most to leave, but a few diehards simply moved back to the area around the KMT headquarters and became even more obstreperous. At 4:15 AM the police began a second attempt to expel the protesters. In the end, at least 120 people were arrested, including professionals, housewives, students, and a Taipei city councilor. Fifteen people were injured. Mayor Ma was in a difficult position. He had joined in a rally that he was now required by law to disperse. Premier Yu Shyi-kun criticized the Taipei government’s slow handling of crowd dispersal and DPP leaders criticized the pan-blue leadership for arousing people’s emotions without controlling their behavior. They urged the city government to retract approval for the April 10 rally since pan-blue leaders were clearly unable to control their supporters. On April 6, Lien and Soong returned to CKS plaza to show their support for a group of students staging a rotating hunger strike (taking turns not eating for several hours). Soong criticized the police for having used force to expel people, saying that police had chased unarmed people to the KMT’s headquarters and then beaten them up—even in the past the KMT had not dared do that. He asked why the government had called police from the south of Taiwan to come to Taipei and beat up people in the north. He considered that only Communists would do that. Soong went on to say that his willingness not to run for election again was the sacrifice of his generation for the next generation. He apologized and said that his generation had not made enough effort so everyone has suffered. Soong explained that had his generation been braver and sacrificed more like the young people, then Chen Shui-bian would not rest so well at night, and asserted that he and Lien had been too polite to Chen Shui-bian. Soong said that if Chen did not make a concrete response to their demand for investigation commissions for the shooting and activation of the national security system before April 10, he would join the students in charging the Presidential Office. He later amended that statement to say he would enter the Presidential Office peacefully. In response to Soong’s warning that he would charge the Presidential Office, the Presidential Office responded that they welcomed Soong to come have a cup of tea and exchange opinions about the country. However, they advised him not to lead a mob to


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charge the office because there was not enough space for everyone. Four DPP legislators later accused Soong with treason, saying that the comment amounted to planning and inciting others to attack a government institution. They also pointed out that if Soong deliberately created unrest it would give China an excuse to attack Taiwan. In response to Soong’s question as to why police in the south were transferred to the north, DPP officials explained that the continuous protests in the wake of the election had been a great burden on Taipei’s police force. They had worked long hours with little rest. Officers from the south had been transferred to help out. They said that Soong’s words were aimed at arousing regional animosity and challenged the Alliance for Ethnic Equality, which had particularly criticized President Chen for dividing people, to likewise use the same standard to criticize Soong. The next tactic of the pan-blues was to call for a referendum on establishing an investigative committee with special legal powers because investigation of the truth was a matter of national emergency. The pan-blues called on the DPP to support the first-ever real referendum in Taiwan called for “by the people.”37 They threw the DPP’s own words back at them saying that those who opposed the referendum did not love Taiwan. They hoped to hold this referendum alongside the December legislative elections. According to the Referendum Law, they needed 82,000 signatures to propose the referendum, and ten times that number to be able to hold it. On April 10 the pan-blues held a signature drive at their headquarters, dubbing the event “referendum for the truth.” Over 80,000 people participated in the rally. Along with the heavyweights, a string of pro-localization politicians also addressed the crowd in an apparent attempt to strengthen the alliance’s image. Lien, Soong, and Ma all made speeches in the afternoon. Lien said, “We are not here to push this cause out of personal interest . . . but to be the guardian angels of Taiwan’s democracy,” and warned the president, “Don’t underestimate us.”38 He accused Chen of acting like a dictator by not granting his demand for a special shooting commission. “The democratic system in Taiwan is bleeding now.”39 Soong remarked that, “Until the truth is known, Chen should not take part in the presidential inauguration on May 20,” and led the crowd in chanting, “No truth, no president.”40 About 1,000 protesters remained after the speeches ended around 5 PM. They became increasingly worked up and soon turned to violence. Around 6 PM some protesters tore at the scaffolding behind the stage and threw it at the barrier separating protesters from the Presidential Office. Protesters threw cans and bottles at police and

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shouted for Chen to step down. Some people pushed the huge placards around the stage onto the barriers and climbed up them to jump into the restricted area where police arrested them. Around 7 PM the police began using water cannons. Most protesters departed at this point, still shouting slogans against President Chen. Not much later, a group used a rope to pull away another barrier and ran in to attack police with iron bars. Another group of people armed with sticks and stones attacked the nearby police station, breaking the glass in the doors and windows. They destroyed the building’s power boxes to cut electricity to the station. About 8 PM Mayor Ma ordered police to step up their actions to deter the mob. Protesters threw at least two Molotov cocktails at police, and engaged the police in violent scuffles. Around 10:30 PM, the Taipei city police chief gave the order to use force to expel people from the area. One group of young protesters wearing masks threatened to beat up members of the press at the scene if they did not stop filming, and around 11:00 PM they made good their threat. Fourteen journalists were injured. Around midnight a final wave of nearly 8,000 riot police moved on a crowd of around 1,500, including a number of PFP lawmakers. The United Evening News reported that at least ten gangsters from the infamous waisheng Taiwanese-run gangs, the Four Seas Union and the Bamboo Union, were suspected of inciting the riot. A total of 21 protesters were arrested during the confrontation, of which 6 had prior criminal records including violating election laws and assault and battery. Only one was from Taipei. A number of those arrested had weapons including slingshots, gasoline, and knives. Eighty-six police officers and 27 protesters were injured. A Taipei Police Bureau chief said that they suspected the gangsters of being the ringleaders in the violence. The Bamboo Union is reported to have historic ties with the KMT, which is believed to have given it a measure of impunity in exchange for pressuring democracy activists in the 1980s. During a media conference the next afternoon, Lien Chan expressed his distress at the “unfortunate incident” and his belief that “the citizens, the police force, the KMT, the PFP, and Taipei City Mayor Dr. Ma Ying-jeou were all the victims of the incident and Chen Shui-bian should be fully responsible.”41

Moving Forward The following day, April 11, the DPP held a celebration in Tainan, their first major activity since the election. Security was tight. Not only were Chen and Lu not present at the same time, they also wore bulletproof


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vests and the stage was surrounded by bulletproof glass. To many panblue supporters, these added security measures were evidence that Chen did not trust his own followers and had poor relations with them. In his address to the crowd, President Chen turned the tables on the pan-blues, saying that if they wanted a referendum, he would give them one. He called for a referendum on reviewing KMT party assets (a significant portion of which are deemed to have been inappropriately acquired during the KMT’s 50 years in power, and some of which the KMT had begun to sell off in the run up to the election) and another referendum on whether to halve the number of seats in the legislature. Proposed laws on both issues were currently stalled in the legislature due to pan-blue opposition. Chen explained, The blue camp originally accused us of ulterior motives when we proposed holding a referendum along with the presidential election. However, they now obviously think that it’s fair to hold a referendum during an election, since they want to tie the year-end legislative elections to a referendum on the establishment of a truth committee. . . . What is the truth? The truth is that they are being sore losers. The truth is that they are being irresponsible by not stepping down after their loss. They are making society pay for their irrationality.42

President Chen continued, “They say they want the truth, but the truth is clear. The truth is Lien and Soong can’t stand to lose.” He explained how when he had lost elections in the past he had asked his supporters to accept the results, and had examined himself instead of blaming other people. This kind of attitude gives you the opportunity to restart. Said President Chen, “Only if you admit that you lost can you have the opportunity to win. If you do not admit you have lost you will lose more.”43 President Chen reminded the crowd that in the martial-law era the KMT had set many limits on opposition parties so the DPP had had to rally the power of the people in order to apply pressure on the KMT. After the DPP’s numbers grew and they were able to get a few people elected, they were able to use the legislature and the legal system to change the situation and had advanced to achieving their goals by working within the system. Now the pan-blues seemed to be trying to work from outside the system, but they knew nothing about this kind of strategy. Furthermore, whereas the DPP had used the strategy because they had no choice, now there were legal structures in place to allow the opposition to have a voice and limits on the power of those in control. President Chen chided the blues, reminding them that if

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they wanted to lead the people to march in the streets then they would have to bring them home safely and peacefully. He labeled it irresponsible to ask people to come out and protest, but when the situation turns ugly say that you had nothing to do with it. Chen said it was the pan-blue supporters who threw the Molotov cocktails, and pan-blue supporters who attacked the police station. Chen finished up with a rallying call for support in the December legislative elections. He explained that the reason the pan-greens had kept silent since the election was not because they have no opinion; they had not tolerated the protests because they approved of them. Rather, they had kept silent so as to avoid fueling conflict. It had not been the time to speak out. However, the next round of legislative elections would be an opportunity for the people to have their voices heard. At present, the DPP did not have a majority in the legislature, so their policies could not be implemented. The only way to awaken Lien and Soong and teach them about democracy, Chen advised, would be to make the DPP the majority in the legislature. Then, Lien and Soong would realize they were finished and Taiwan could be peaceful and safe. The DPP wasted no time in beginning preparations for the December legislative elections. By early April a party congress meeting was held to discuss procedures for nominating candidates, and a primary was held before the end of May. Whereas they had previously predicted they would be able to gain a legislative majority in cooperation with their partner the TSU, they now felt confident enough to suggest that DPP candidates alone would be able to capture half the seats. The Presidential Office spokesman underscored this aggressive stance with the remark that the DPP would “chop at the head of the opposition until it falls off.”

C hapter 9

I dentity and C ulture

As people are walking all the time in the same spot, a path appears. Lu Xun

I

n mid-April, while the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) was already efficiently organizing its December campaign, the pan-blue leadership was still wholly mired in forcing an answer to the questions surrounding the March election. The DPP’s continual emphasis on dealing with these questions according to the law was perceived by the pan-blues as a delaying tactic, and the pan-blue leadership had decided their best countermove was to harness the power of the people to force immediate action rather than working within the existing legal system. However, Chen’s remarks regarding the pan-blues’ attempt to mobilize people power were not far off the mark. The panblues were not effective in this regard. Even surveys conducted in April by pro-pan-blue newspapers indicated that over 60 percent of the general public opposed the protests. Not only did their popular support wane, but also a number of people within the pan-blue camp lost patience with the top leadership and began to voice their dissent publicly. Even before the violence of the April 3 confrontation, it had already become apparent that an internal power struggle was developing between moderates favoring a recount and halting the demonstrations before things got too far out of control, and hard-liners who wanted a new election. For example, Kuomintang (KMT) Vice Chairman Ma Ying-jeou urged Lien to accept the results of a recount, and KMT Vice Chairman Vincent Siew suggested that the chances of overturning the election were not high because the voting system, developed under the KMT, was fair and transparent. However, hardliners seemed comfortable with sparking violence to further their goals and even considered it necessary. Just days after the election there were already signs of a rift between the KMT and People

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First Party (PFP) when they were forced to cancel a march scheduled for March 23 in Kaohsiung due to disagreements. After the bloody April 10 incident, the split became even more apparent as some PFP legislators publicly criticized Ma as “used by the DPP” and “dumb” because of his decision to disperse the protesters, while a number of KMT legislators defended Ma, saying that it was time for the KMT to reflect on its defeat and stop the protests, no matter whether the election was fair or not.1 The continued protests seemed to demarcate fault lines both within the KMT and between the KMT and PFP as legislators began considering the impact the protests might have on their results in the December legislative elections. Although, as discussed in chapter 6, many in the pan-blue alliance had argued that the greens were causing an identity crisis for the citizens of Taiwan, in fact identity has been a long-term problem within the KMT.

The KMT’s Changing Identity When the KMT opened the doors for an opposition party in 1986 it may have hoped Taiwan would evolve a one-party dominant system, such as that of postwar Japan. Why were they unable to achieve this goal? To become a dominant party requires occupation of the middle ground so that the challengers are left to the more extreme positions. The KMT has been unable to maintain a middle ground from which it could appeal to a broad base of people. Disagreements leading to splits within the party coupled with the rising DPP have kept the KMT in a reactive posture. In 1993, a number of the old guard KMT members who leaned more toward unification with China than the rest of the party left to form the New Party (NP). Their departure added momentum to the Taiwanization of the KMT, but was not sufficient to bring the KMT to a middle ground. In the 2000 presidential campaign, two events caused many voters who might have cast ballots for the KMT to throw their support elsewhere. First, the DPP made itself more acceptable to many KMT voters by moderating its position on the issue of Taiwan independence versus unification with China. The DPP also pushed the issue of black gold in the election campaign, exposing ties between the KMT and local crime bosses. With this tactic, the DPP was able to cast itself as a moderate party and the KMT as a group of politically privileged elite. The second event was James Soong’s decision to run for president as an independent in competition with his own party’s candidate


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Lien Chan. After he was relieved of KMT membership, Soong established the PFP and ran his campaign on the platform of forming a “grand coalition” and a “nonpartisan government.” Soong’s departure split the KMT support base: Soong, former head of the provincial government, which was disbanded in 1999, had strong support in central Taiwan, where the seat of the provincial government had been located, which left the KMT with a foothold in the north where the majority of waisheng Taiwanese live. Chen Shui-bian maintained a stronghold in the south, where his hometown is. The split vote resulted in the DPP’s win in 2000 (Chen 39 percent, Soong 37 percent, Lien 23 percent). James Soong’s strong showing gave him a measure of political capital, but the KMT’s overwhelming loss left many party members determined to reform the party in order to rebuild its competitiveness and enhance its chances of returning to power in 2004. However, the first step the KMT took toward reform may have worsened its problems. KMT leaders pushed out those perceived as responsible for the defeat, including Lee Teng-hui, and revoked the memberships of those who had crossed party lines to campaign for James Soong or Chen Shui-bian. They also made it very difficult for defectors to return to the party as a way of deterring further defections. However, if anything the defection problem worsened. The new DPP government scouted KMT administrative talent to form a “Cabinet for the people” and befriended KMT legislators to develop a working majority to support the new government. The new premier, Tang Fei, and one-third of the Cabinet under the DPP government, were KMT members. Appointing Tang to the premiership had the effect of splitting the KMT in the legislature. There were strong calls within the KMT hierarchy to expel those serving in the DPP government. However, public support for the appointments in the name of national interests prevented action against those cooperating with the DPP. The KMT lost additional members and supporters when they left to follow Lee Teng-hui to the Taiwan Solidarity Union (TSU) in the fall of 2001. Although the KMT did try to remake itself after its 2000 loss, and, in fact, the sixteenth Party Congress in July 2001 introduced a new KMT to the public, the attempt to rejuvenate the party and polish its image was largely a top–down process that involved little bargaining among contending forces. While the reforms did represent progress, there were still a number of issues that members, even within the KMT’s central committee, disagreed on how to handle. Two major long-term issues have yet to be resolved: black gold and the return of assets improperly acquired largely from the departing

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Japanese colonialists and during the disbanding of the provincial government. Until these issues are dealt with, they will continue to be election liabilities for the KMT. Although prominent KMT members such as former justice minister Liao Cheng-hao2 have revealed that at least one-third of the KMT’s elected representatives have some connection to organized crime, and the KMT has revised its party charter to exclude members with criminal investigation records from its nomination list, some leaders have been reluctant to address or even acknowledge these problems in the current context. For example, a number of former legislators and prominent businessmen convicted of crimes ranging from accepting kickbacks and illegal loans to fraud, misuse of public funds, and murder actively campaigned for Lien and Soong in 2004 (some campaigned from abroad after fleeing the country). Despite allowing known criminals to campaign on his behalf, Lien Chan intimated that black gold had only been a problem for the KMT under Lee Teng-hui; no black gold problem had existed before Lee, nor were there any black gold connections operating under his chairmanship.3 Lien made this statement only a week or so before officials announced they were investigating 800 cases of suspected vote-buying, more than double the number of the 2000 election, and two weeks before the pan-blues were forced to abandon a planned anti–black gold theme for a campaign rally after being ridiculed as hypocrites in the media. Perhaps being forced to back off the rally theme is what led the pan-blues to finally allow a bill regulating political donations to pass the legislature just days before the presidential election in effort to appear willing to combat the problem. A second concern has been untangling the KMT party from the state. Although the KMT claims to have made great inroads into returning its improperly obtained assets, a group of lawyers hired by the Cabinet suggested that only about three percent of these assets have been returned to the nation while nearly 75 percent have been transferred to third-party individuals. The KMT has been reluctant to clarify the status of many assets, and has blocked legislation aimed at investigating its holdings. They have even gone on the offensive, announcing they would sue the premier for defamation of character after he described these assets as “plunder.” They objected to the premier’s comment that “when the KMT came to Taiwan it only had two legs to stand on” and “it is like a housekeeper who steals the master’s property.”4 One of the KMT’s lawyers rebutted saying, “The KMT came here with so much gold and historical antiquities from the National Palace Museum—it did not come to Taiwan with just two legs to stand on,”5 a surprising line of defense given that it


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suggests the KMT was well-acquainted with acquiring plunder when it arrived. Government officials welcomed the lawsuit as an opportunity for the KMT to explain the sources of its funding. Whenever elections come around, high-ranking KMT officials always vow that they will address the party assets issue, yet the perception is that it has not happened. The DPP has now taken to looking at the issue like “an ATM machine for the DPP to withdraw votes from the KMT,” and even suggest “it was the KMT who gave the DPP the pin number of this debit card.”6 Given these ongoing issues, after the 2004 election loss, some within the KMT feared that the KMT is still seen as more interested in protecting its assets than in protecting the people of Taiwan. This faction asserts that the reason that pan-blues had difficulty attracting local Taiwanese voters in the March election was that they had not been willing to listen to the Taiwanese voice; they had only asked Taiwanese to listen to them. The solution they have advocated is democratizing and Taiwanizing the party. For example, one of the most popular KMT central committee members suggested allowing grassroots members of the party to contribute, instead of strategy being decided only from the top. He also suggested allowing the directors of local party offices to be elected by local party members instead of appointed by headquarters. Others observed that before the election nobody had been clear about the pan-blue strategy, and it was still the same after the election. They demanded the party openly discuss why they had lost and that the people who made the decisions and planned the strategy come out and explain and take responsibility instead of hiding their mistakes. A number of KMT lawmakers including party spokesman Alex Tsai blamed the pan-blues’ election defeat on “putting too much trust in Sisy Chen” (a TV talk-show host, independent legislator, and KMT strategist who is not a KMT member), saying she should be held responsible.7 The Taiwanization faction emphasized that the KMT should now focus on working within the existing system and concentrate the power of their supporters in areas where they could be most useful. The key to winning was the court, and not mob protests. To localize the party, they advised changing the party’s name from “Chinese Nationalist Party” to “Taiwanese Nationalist Party,” and, of course, replacing Lien Chan with a Taiwan-born chairman. In order to avoid being rejected by the majority of Taiwanese, they advised that the KMT would have to figure out how to transform itself into a party that voters believe is sincere in supporting Taiwan’s identity. They called for the party to

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“return to the middle path, otherwise it may face a lethal blow from its supporters in the year-end legislative elections.”8 With the inner conflict over the identity and direction of the party just months ahead of a key election campaign, why did the pan-blue alliance decide on a strategy of stirring up social and political conflict with weeks of protests? Why did they continue these protests after they became violent and unpopular even within their own alliance? Using sociocultural psychology, the remainder of this chapter addresses these questions from the perspective of the two leaders of the alliance, from the perspective of the pan-blue parties, and from the perspective of their many supporters. While this cultural examination is directed at explaining the psychology of pan-blue supporters, the general principles addressed apply equally well to the greens as well as the blues. That is, what is presented is a cultural psychology of Taiwanese people.

The Pan-Blue Leaders and Their Parties When the KMT lost the 2000 presidential election, a throng of disgruntled voters gathered at the KMT headquarters demanding that Lee Teng-hui step down as KMT party chairman to accept responsibility for the loss. Lien Chan may have anticipated that a similar fate would await him as he heard the Central Election Commission (CEC) announce the final outcome of the March 20 vote. By denouncing the election as unfair, Lien psychologically deflected pan-blue supporters’ disgruntlement from himself to the government. He later joined the dissatisfied crowd gathered outside the KMT headquarters the night of the election and physically deflected their discontent by leading them over to the Presidential Office to initiate a week of protests. This action staved off immediate demands for his resignation. James Soong’s political prospects were no less dire. While he had been a fairly popular provincial governor, his ability to dole out favors had dried up when his job along with the entire provincial government was eliminated in 1999. Soong was accused of having run up provincial debts using budgeted funds for pork-barrel projects to shore up support in rural areas that used to be controlled by KMT local factions and organized crime. He had granted a number of retiring provincial officials leadership positions at enterprises owned and operated by the provincial government, which were part of the KMT network of semi-public businesses. Bolstered by the knowledge that he would have the financial backing of these loyalists, Soong announced


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he would run for president as an independent in 2000 when Lee Teng-hui selected Lien Chan over him as the KMT’s candidate. He and his followers, mostly waisheng Taiwanese like himself, later founded the PFP, which is often referred to as a one-man party. In the four years of its existence it had yet to establish a central standing committee and its party representatives are all appointed by Soong. Without Soong, the PFP has little basis for existence. Losing the 2004 election suddenly made things look bleak for his party. Without a foothold in the government, Soong has no resources at his control and thus no way to ensure continued support. Protesting the election result was James Soong’s only hope of staving off the marginalization of his party. Members of his party were in a similar situation. Many had been ejected from the KMT and would not be in a good position if the PFP were to fall apart. For PFP members, their best hope for their own political future was to fight tooth-and-nail to gain a victory for James Soong. The KMT was in an altogether different situation. It did not need Lien Chan to survive, and in fact, there were those who believed the party would be better off without him. They had begun calling for transfer of party leadership to the younger generation. Some even went a step further: Not only would the KMT be better off without Lien Chan as its chairman, it would also be better off without the PFP as its partner as well. To one faction of the KMT it seemed that the more outspoken violent element of pan-blue response had been driven mainly by Soong and his PFP supporters, with Lien just following along. After the violence of the April rallies, some KMT leaders feared that the more radical PFP actions and vitriol at the rallies was besmirching the KMT, and advised that the line between the parties be made clearer. They felt that PFP legislators had focused on conflict and forgotten the goal and the message of the protests. Said one KMT legislator, “The PFP is welcome to do whatever it wants in being daring and radical, but the KMT should stick to its moderate nature.”9 Fearing marginalization in the legislative elections at the end of the year, a number of pro-localization KMT members voiced their opposition after the April protests, advising that if the pan-blue leadership could not control the mob, they should not hold the activity. They feared wasting KMT support and losing swing voters, stressing that protests always have a limit and that the KMT can not just keep fighting and fighting. They criticized Lien and Soong for leading people astray with the protests and felt that the recurring violence was damaging to the KMT.

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However, KMT members were by no means unified in this assessment. For example, the chief secretary of the KMT asserted that the power of the people cannot be controlled by the party; if the people want to show their opinion, the party can not stop them. Likewise, KMT spokesman Alex Tsai emphasized that if the KMT and PFP gave up their protests it would be like accepting the fact that democracy in Taiwan had collapsed; although there may be some negative consequences to the KMT and PFP because of conflict, it was an unavoidable cost. These people felt that the KMT could not pull back just because of criticism. Lien Chan’s response to the growing internal dissent was to voice a positive appraisal of the protesters, the police, and Taipei Mayor Ma Ying-jeou, and to remark, “We are all victims. The only person who should take responsibility is President Chen.”10

The People The protest in front of the Presidential Office did not arise spontaneously; it was not a grassroots protest. Lien and Soong created it and they reportedly kept it going by paying several hundred core supporters to camp out through the cool drizzly nights. There is little doubt that supporters would not have returned to the Presidential Office day after day without their leaders tacitly urging them to gather and to remain. Indeed, after the violent clashes there were reports in the media of disillusioned protesters complaining that they had been abandoned by the KMT-PFP alliance; they said they had come to support the alliance as they had been called to do and were disappointed to have the alliance “disown” them, especially after the violence.11 Why did they heed the call? What drove the large turnouts? There are a couple of reasons that many people, including swing voters and disillusioned DPP supporters, may have attended these protests. One simple attraction was that once people arrived at the scene they found a festival-like atmosphere. Free meals, snacks, water, raincoats, and flags were provided. People of all ages mingled in the crowd. Speakers and media personalities entertained the throng and vendors appeared to sell more snacks and election paraphernalia. At least at first, many people came out to partake of the festive atmosphere and be part of the excitement, or even just to see what was happening and have a free meal. Of course, many people were looking for something more than an amusing way to spend an afternoon. Many were seeking an explanation. Many were angry and felt cheated and wanted to show their support for their candidate. The four related elements of Taiwanese psychology,


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sympathy voting, playing the victim, a winner take all mindset, and the hierarchy and elitism built into the social structure, contributed to why the pan-blue leadership’s “protest until the end” mentality appealed to so many people. The idea that President Chen might fake an injury to win sympathy votes resonated with a lot of voters. No one had to tell them this was a possibility. Many people came up with it independently, even before Sisy Chen broadcast the idea that the event was staged. People may have attended the rallies hoping to get an explanation of the events or to hear Lien Chan’s evidence for his accusations. But, why was the idea acceptable to so many people? Before answering this question from a sociocultural, psychological perspective, it is important to point out there are precedents in Taiwanese politics for this kind of strategy. Politicians other than Chen Shui-bian have been accused of trying to appear weak in order to play on sympathy to gain votes. For example, when James Soong launched his independent bid for the presidency in 2000, he did not quit the KMT but waited to be expelled, probably calculating that his expulsion would win him sympathy votes. Soong was careful not to speak ill of Lee Teng-hui, who was popular and well respected, especially among native Taiwanese voters. Instead he sang the KMT’s praises and talked about his everlasting loyalty to the party and his pride in being a KMT member. He portrayed his expulsion as occurring at the whim of a small group of out-of-touch individuals and asked, “Is the KMT expelling its members? Or is it disconnecting from the people?”12 He cast himself as small and loyal against the big powerful KMT so that he looked like an ill-treated victim. In response, the KMT compared Soong to Adolf Hitler, and Soong’s prohibition of Taiwaneselanguage TV while he was head of the GIO to Hitler’s extermination of the Jews. Chen Shui-bian offered a similar criticism, saying Soong is “draped in nonpartisan dress, but acting like the New Party, and yelling the DPP’s slogans. His behavior, however, is similar to Hitler’s.”13 Chen likewise chided, “A candidate should be concerned with more than just creating the image of being a hapless victim of political machines to get more sympathy votes. He should also tackle vital issues that the public wants to know about.”14 Clearly, playing the victim is a political strategy that may be seen as effective in Taiwan. One reason that so many people were spontaneously ready to suspect Chen Shui-bian of employing this victim strategy by staging his own shooting is that he has been accused of such shenanigans before. In 1985, Chen ran for Tainan County commissioner. He appeared shortly before the election with a fluid drip in his arm claiming

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to have been poisoned by the KMT, who quickly accused him of making up the story for sympathy. Chen lost his bid for the position. Afterwards, as his wife was traveling around thanking voters for their support, she was run over by a truck several times in a dead-end street, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down. Reportedly, Chen later received a phone call warning him not to run for political office again. The driver never stood trial. Some of Chen’s critics claim his wife’s unfortunate accident was part of Chen’s long-term strategy for sympathy votes gone awry, and believe Chen ordered an attack on her to benefit his future political career. Some even claim that in fact she was never paralyzed and has been faking all these years for Chen’s political benefit. Although exactly what happened in 1985 is not clear, to some people the shooting seemed to be part of a familiar pattern, and thus the argument that Chen could stage his own shooting seemed plausible. Of course, everyone wanted to know what had happened on March 19 and how it could have happened. Many people turned out to the March 21 and 26 protests hoping the pan-blues would be able to provide evidence and an explanation of what had happened in Tainan. Cultural perceptions of justice may contribute to some part of the relation between perceived weakness and voter support. Social justice in Confucian thought is based on the concept of benevolence (ren), which demands that one always convey feeling (qing) for others, and on the concept of righteousness (yi), which calls for doing the right thing at the right time and in the right context. That is, the appropriate standard of justice may depend not only on the situation and the status of the participants involved, but also on one’s feeling for the participants. This conception differs with the general Western one in which standards of justice are assumed to apply to all people equally across situations. According to the Confucian conception of justice, a weaker contender deserves compassion and the stronger contender must treat the weaker with benevolence. That is, those with power are assumed to hold that power on the basis of their superior wisdom and benevolence, and so the moral requirements for proper behavior for those with power and status are stricter than the requirements for those without. Recent psychological studies have demonstrated that these principles of justice still hold true for Taiwanese people in modern society. What is the significance of this conception of justice for the political strategy of playing the victim? Even though the DPP is now the ruling party, for historical reasons it is still perceived as the underdog as compared to the KMT. Part of this perception is rooted in the KMT’s


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massive wealth and extensive business holdings, and part is likely rooted in the DPP’s history as the opposition party fighting for democracy, for which many individuals were in fact persecuted by the KMT. These perceptions of the KMT as strong and powerful and the DPP as weak and martyred leave the DPP room to work a sympathy angle that would never be open to the KMT. Thus, appearing weak is a strategy more likely to work for the DPP than the KMT and fits with the sense many people already have of the two parties. If the KMT can be portrayed as wielding its strength unfairly, the DPP benefits. According to this mechanism, those who see the victim as a member of their own group will be especially likely to feel the stronger party has a moral obligation not to harm the weaker party. If a member of one’s in-group is harmed, then any disputes or disagreements separating one from the victim are forgotten and instead one is inclined to emphasize similarities with the victim and be protective of him or her. This is not too different from the situation in which an older sibling feels justified in maligning a younger sibling, but let anyone else defame the younger and the older will immediately come to his defense. In this case, sympathy votes would be most likely to come from those who already identify with Chen Shui-bian in some way. Excluding core pan-green supporters who were already committed to giving Chen their vote, those who might have been pro-DPP in the 2000 election but become disillusioned over the course of the past four years would be the ones most likely to cast a sympathy vote for Chen. The big question is whether appearing to be unfairly injured could translate into enough extra votes to win an election that would otherwise be lost. While some in the blue camp charged that this is in fact exactly what happened, on the other side it was argued any possible surge in support due to sympathy was counterbalanced by a swell of pan-blue supporters attempting to counteract their perception that Chen might win sympathy votes. Did Chen on balance gain enough sympathy votes to turn defeat into victory? Did he win by a larger or smaller margin than he would have? It is impossible to say whether the shooting had any impact on the number of people voting, or the way in which they voted, and even more difficult to say whether that impact, if any, changed the result. Nonetheless, the fact that the election was unfairly influenced has constituted the centerpiece of the pan-blue camp’s refusal to recognize the result of the election and their dedicated attempt to overturn it. Because of a propensity to believe that attracting sympathy votes is a strategy that works, many people, and even many media organizations, accept the influence of the shooting on the election as a fact.

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A second factor in Taiwanese perception of events has to do with the understanding of competition and winning and losing. For many Taiwanese, it can be summed up with the Mandarin saying “winners are kings; losers are bandits.” For example, a few days before Chen Shui-bian’s inauguration on May 20, 2004, two months after the election, a KMT Taipei city councilor demanded that the KMT leadership take responsibility for the party’s loss in the election by resigning. Lien Chan responded that the election is not finished yet. Lien’s attitude demonstrates the general lack of a tradition of good sportsmanship or a graceful loser in Taiwan, where there is little benefit to be found in conceding defeat. It is not possible to win by being a good loser, instead, as the saying goes, losers are bandits. This is a winner-takes-all mindset. If you lose, you lose. And, you also lose face. Death may be preferable to such failure. Such a mindset creates a propensity to go to any length to achieve the goal and an inclination for scorched earth tactics. It does not lend itself to patiently following a process to appeal for a review of the outcome. It does not lend itself to dignified acceptance of perceived unfairness or flaws in the process. Neither does it lend itself to recognizing personal flaws in hopes of doing better the next time, or working with one’s opponent after the competition for the greater good of society. All of this is not to say that there are no Taiwanese people who are good sports or gracious losers. Rather, the point is that there is little basis in traditional Chinese culture for such a mindset. Other cases of this kind of extreme thinking in Taiwanese society are evident. One such example is the relatively high suicide rate. According to a November 2004 report by the Taiwan Society of Psychiatrists, over 10 percent of university students in Taiwan attempted suicide in the past year, and there are regular reports in the media of successful figures taking their own lives, such as the 23-year-old model who jumped to hear death after a quarrel with her boyfriend in August 2004, or the award-winning novelist who hanged himself in April 2004. It is not uncommon for a person faced with unbearable failure to take not only his own life, but also those of all dependent family members. Part of the motivation behind this willingness to go to extremes is that it is not just the reputation or the face of the individual that may be at stake, but also the honor of that person’s entire family and other people identified with that person. Examples of extreme behavior aimed not at a solution or even resolution, but only at keeping the conflict open or causing trouble for the winner abound in Taiwan’s political arena. Nearly a month after the election, in the Taipei city council chambers some council members


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tore down the portrait of Chen Shui-bian and ran around the room with it. In the legislature, a pan-blue legislator announced that “people should kill Chen Shui-bian.”15 Two days before Chen’s inauguration, the PFP legislative whip said, “if there is no truth [in the shooting], then there is no president” and declared the new Cabinet lacks “legitimacy” and “is not welcome to report to the legislature.”16 The KMT’s representative in Washington DC even mailed a 20-page booklet entitled “Bulletgate: Questions on the Legitimacy of the Presidency” to every member of the U.S. Congress. The booklet presented the facts of what it called the “alleged shooting” and concluded that “the incumbent party milked the shooting to maximum effect, and swung the election to a melodramatic, heart-stopping 0.2 percent margin the next day in favor of Chen.”17 Actions such as these cannot help to discover the truth of the matter or solve the election dispute. They can only make the conflict worse and damage Taiwan’s image in the process. Whereas most Western politicians who continued a long-term fight over election results, even with seeming justification, would likely encounter condemnation including from their own supporters, the same degree of backlash does not arise in Taiwan. For most Western cultures, there is some degree of expectation that individuals will recognize that at times personal benefit must be sacrificed for the good of society. A commonly cited related example is that of Al Gore’s gracious concession after the 2000 U.S. presidential election. Despite ambiguities and possible fraud, and despite having won the majority of the popular vote, once the Supreme Court gave its verdict on the recount Al Gore relinquished the fight. When George W. Bush was declared the winner, even though he disagreed with the ruling, Gore accepted it for the stability of society and the good of the country, and was widely praised by both sides for this decision. Al Gore acted out of a sense of social responsibility. This tradition of social responsibility rests on the notion of social contract, a historical growth of natural law theory. It is the view that morality is founded on a uniform social agreement that serves the selfinterests of those who make the agreement. That is, because conflicts are inevitable, people agree to abide by a set of rules—the law––to resolve these conflicts. Only through observance of these rules can maximum liberty for each person be ensured. Thus, individuals have a personal responsibility to give up certain actions that would put others at a risk of harm. Again, the point of this observation is not to say that there are no Taiwanese people who believe in the value of social responsibility and

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practice it.18 Rather, the point is that the concept of social responsibility is rooted in Western cultural traditions; it is alien to Confucian cultures. Confucian ethics require that a person first practice benevolence to family members, and then friends and acquaintances, and only lastly to the strangers of wider society. That is, in the Confucian moral system there exists an ethical requirement to favor those with whom one is closest. There are no Confucian norms emphasizing cordial trustful relations between nonkin. From this perspective, the ethical course of action may be that which most benefits those closest to you. The term for society in modern Mandarin (shehui) emerged only in the nineteenth century as a translation of the Japanese term shakai. Before that time there were terms for community and state, but no term corresponding to the concept of society. Applying this cultural analysis of the concept of social responsibility to the situation following the election, it is clear the pan-blues have indeed not acknowledged any sort of moral requirement to accept their election loss for the good of society. Not only have the pan-blues not backed down from their claim that the election should be annulled due to fraud, Lien Chan announced that everyone has the right to murder the president if the KMT did not win their lawsuit.19 That the more extreme battle-to-the-death mindset exists and has some degree of acceptance among the population allows the pan-blues to continue their fight to overturn the election. The third psychological factor supporting the pan-blue’s course of action is a sense of entitlement bound up with notions of hierarchy and elitism. In Taiwan, when a new law is passed or when police begin to enforce an old law and people are fined for doing something they have always done, vociferous protests are likely to ensue. That one has always done something is justification enough to keep doing it. For example, the decision to start enforcing traffic laws on the highways (against speeding, driving on the shoulder, and following too closely) brought a great clamor from people who felt their rights were being infringed upon. What does outrage over fines for driving on the shoulder of the highway have to do with outrage over “stolen elections” and “unconstitutional referendums”? There are several answers to this question. Research has shown that ideas about what is fair are influenced by what has happened in the past. Once people have received a particular benefit, they are likely to assume that they will receive it again, even if conditions have changed. From this perspective, the pan-blue leaders’ apparent expectation that things would continue as in the past is not


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unlike the expectation of a driver that he should be able to speed along the shoulder as always. In both cases, when the perceived entitlement is infringed upon there is a feeling of outrage and a sense of violation. In the days following the March 20 election, the KMT’s behavior appeared to reflect the belief that it was the only natural government of the ROC on Taiwan. To lose was to be cheated. It went against the natural order. The sky cannot have two suns, as Confucius said. Lien Chan seemed to feel entitled to a new election to the extent that he held a series of meetings with party members and supporters around Taiwan, which he himself briefly called a “reelection tour” to solicit votes until the KMT spokesman clarified it as a “thanksgiving tour” to thank people for their support. Indeed, during much of this tour Lien spoke about how unfair the presidential election had been, how the vote recount was improperly conducted and how the concealed truth behind the shooting needed to be revealed. There was little substantive discussion or criticism of the party or self-examination. James Soong has also seemed to exhibit a sense of entitlement to be vice president. At a press conference on April 6, in response to a question regarding whether he and Lien Chan might run for seats in the Legislature in December, Soong responded that it wouldn’t make any sense and asked, “Have you ever heard of a president and a vice president doubling as legislators?”20 Although this principle of entitlement by those who have had and have lost may hold true in many cultures, it is buttressed in Confucian cultures by beliefs about the hierarchical nature of society and relationships. In traditional China, every member of the family had to obey the head of the family. The head of the family had to follow the head of the clan. In society, the intellectuals had to be a model for ordinary people and follow the guidance of the master scholars. In politics, ordinary people had to obey government officials. The emperor was above everyone. The whole of Chinese society formed a pyramid, at the top of which was the emperor. Most people mainly interacted with their own relatives and those in their close network and rarely had the opportunity or necessity to deal with government officials in everyday life, so it might seem that for most people the emperor would be distant and intangible. However, every person could still easily experience the hierarchy of society through the experience of the strict hierarchy of the relationships in their daily lives. Family is the archetype of hierarchy, and hierarchy is the fabric of Chinese society. In Taiwanese organizations most employees will tend to feel it is proper for the most powerful, senior person to make

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important decisions unilaterally. They may feel it is inappropriate for the boss to consult them in making decisions, and even lose confidence in the boss if he or she attempts to include them in the decision-making process. The boss may also be expected to favor those with whom he or she is close, particularly family members. From the Confucian perspective, it is ethical to make decisions in this way. Whereas Westerners may likewise be influenced in their decisions and their behavior by whether or not a superior is involved, there is no moral requirement to respect the superior’s decision. And while the closeness of the relation between those involved may influence a decision for Westerners, there is no moral requirement for it to do so, and in fact it may even be considered unethical to allow it to do so. Thus, an aspect of Taiwanese people’s support for their leaders is the Confucian belief that inferiors should respect the wishes of their superiors. Pan-blue supporters would want to do their best to follow the wishes of their leader. They would trust him and expect him to be wise and rational. It is not the place of the inferior to question the superior. Those who do so would themselves be seen as morally lacking. It is not only those who have had and lost who may feel entitled to regain their position—those lower in the hierarchy may also feel that those of high status deserve to have positions of authority. Correspondent to the belief that those of higher status deserve a position of authority is the belief that those of higher status have an obligation to take care of those of lower status. Taiwan’s system of political clientelism perfectly reflects these beliefs. In clientelism, the politician has a long-term relationship with constituents based on mutual benefit. The politician provides the constituent special access to government resources; the constituents help to keep the politician in power. This sort of particularistic favoritism reflects the cosmology of Confucian societies, which emphasize the ethical requirement to benefit those closest to you over strangers with the Principle of Favoring the Intimate. Clientelism has a tendency to form chains. That is, a legislator may be supported by a number of city council leaders, who are supported by neighborhood leaders who can direct individuals who mobilize their families. It can be these chains of support and not political parties or platforms that motivate Taiwanese voters; voting in Taiwan has traditionally been candidate oriented.21 This cosmology has implication for the role of social elites in society. One of the arguments sometimes deployed by the pan-blues is that the educated, the intellectuals, the elites of society all support the blues, and it is only the poor and uneducated people of the south who support the greens. The conclusions drawn from this observation


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range from the idea that the uneducated are more liable to be taken in by the campaign tricks of the greens, to the idea that decisions made by less educated people are not worthy of consideration. As a pan-blue supporter at the post election protest rallies explained, “In a democracy, if the people do not choose the right thing you have to correct them.”22 This argument supposes that intellectuals and elites are more sensible than ordinary people and less easily manipulated. The argument may lead to the confusion of democracy and populist politics, and prevent recognition of its elitist underpinnings. The thread of elitism in the pan-blue mindset has its roots in Confucian ideology, and still plays a role in the thinking of many Taiwanese intellectuals. It is also important to recognize that in a Confucian culture, elitism is integrated with the moral structure of society. Junzi, or noblemen, were distinguished from the commoners under their rule, xiao ren, based on their degree of self-cultivation. Noblemen and commoners were held to a set of rules of conduct that differed in terms of the principle adopted to guide interactions with others. Noblemen were expected to follow the principle of yi (righteousness) and commoners the principle of li (self-interest). In Confucian ideology, all people are understood to be capable of cultivating themselves, as long as they choose to do so, and of becoming moral beings with the virtue of ren (benevolence). Although in traditional society individuals from impoverished origins could rise to great heights through scholarly pursuits and by following the principle of righteousness, to allow those at the bottom to have power over the elites would be counter to morality. Perhaps a gut feeling that allowing the majority to rule the elite is immoral is part of what fuels the suspicion that those who benefit from the rule of the majority are themselves immoral, and adds weight to the fear of populism. The Confucian value of the elite is reflected in the pan-blue’s seeming belief that the elites of society have the right to rule the government. It contradicts the democratic principle that every vote has the same value, which is not unrelated to the individualistic idea that every person has the same value, a concept at the heart of Western, but not Confucian (or Taiwanese), morality. If elites can judge decisions of voters by the educational attainments of those voters, they are not seeking democracy in the sense in which most Westerners understand democracy. The conflict between the blues and the greens in Taiwan can be seen on some level as a conflict between a traditional Confucian worldview and Western democratic values.


C hapter 10

The Law and Justice

The more laws and order are made prominent, the more thieves and robbers there will be. Lao-tzu

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clash in cultural values is evident with respect to concepts surrounding the function and application of the law in Taiwan. Some part of the blues’ sense that the greens are immoral and willing to go to any lengths to gain power is derived from this deep understanding that legalistic behavior does not reflect a moral way of dealing with people, or even a moral way of ruling a country. This chapter explores the ways in which the conflict between the blues and the greens is a conflict between a more traditional Chinese way of thinking and understanding human relations in which some people are above the law, and a more Westernized one in which no person is above the law.

The Law In the traditional Confucian way of thinking, laws are conceptualized as an instrument for a ruler to govern a state, rather than any sort of social contract among the populace. An example of this thinking is the pan-blue camp’s insistence that Chen Shui-bian should issue an emergency decree instead of adhering to established legal procedures to resolve the election dispute. That is, a ruler should move directly to achieve the goal rather than being restrained by any sort of legal process. When relations are good and people conduct themselves according to the Confucian ethical system of benevolence-righteousnesspropriety, there is understanding between the two sides and, in the words of Mencius, “laws are best when they need not be applied.” It is only when relations turn sour and understanding cannot be reached that laws are necessary. Thus, invocation of the rules or application of the law shows that a relationship is already bad.

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This understanding of proper application of the law is demonstrated in the traffic example described earlier and the pan-blue election response. If I have always sped down the shoulder of the highway at twice the speed limit and suddenly the law is applied to me, it shows bad relations and lack of trust, and may be interpreted as unfair, or even immoral. Likewise, if a recount is refused or delayed based on purely legal objections, relations have soured and the action may be considered unjust because those voicing the complaint are not being dealt with as human beings with feeling and consideration of the circumstances, but as part of an unfeeling legal process. In the same vein, that the pan-greens managed to hold a referendum based on a legal loophole is perceived as immoral by many in the pan-blue camp. Feelings were ignored in favor of a legal technicality. The highest value in a Confucian culture is ren, benevolence. It is the fundamental aspect of human nature. Confucian societies ideally operate on ren zhi, or “rule of ren.” Ren zhi requires consideration of qing, feeling, and ensuring that action suits the particular people and situation involved. In contrast, democracies run on rule of law, fa zhi, which does not require consideration of feeling and demands that all people and situations be treated equally. Taiwanese democracy is confronting the contradictions between the two. Part of the conflict arises because only one of the groups, the pan-greens, has associated itself closely with the rule of law. Clearly a group that puts its trust in the rule of law will on occasion have trouble interacting with a group that not only does not put the same trust in the legal system, but also has a whole different conception of the role and application of laws. Westerners have a much easier time grasping the Democratic Progressive Party’s (DPP) rule-of-law arguments as they are comfortable with this type of thinking and find it reasonable. It fits into a world view in which rules are objectively defined and apply equally to everybody. The DPP has even begun to employ sports metaphors for political activities in effort to directly convey the idea of the pan-blue camp’s lack of ability to “play by the rules.” For example, Chen Shui-bian compared the opposition to a baseball team that refuses to end the game after losing, and the DPP put out a TV advertisement before the legislative elections showing a soccer game and suggesting that team blue continued to contest the referee’s ruling that team green had won the game. These metaphors rely on the value of good sportsmanship, which is not a concept indigenous to Taiwanese culture. Likewise, the DPP has appealed to the pan-blues to concede their election loss on the basis of social responsibility. In the words of

The Law and J ustice

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the premier: The pan-blue camp should also consider the nation’s unity and the people’s welfare. Although they did not concede right after the election, they should at least act like Gore, who did not agree with the US Supreme Court’s verdict but still accepted the outcome.1

While it may seem obvious to appeal to social responsibly in asking the losing candidates to concede (especially six months after the election) this notion is not indigenous to Taiwan. The reason the greens are so comfortable with a legalistic perspective is clear from the history of the development of the DPP. The 1979 military trial for sedition of the key figures involved with Formosa Magazine after the Kaohsiung Incident (described in chapter 1), when police attacked unarmed civilians and arrested opposition figures, forged today’s DPP leaders: Fearing unrest if the trials were closed, the Kuomintang (KMT) agreed to public hearings. All of the major newspapers gave extensive coverage to the nine days of open testimony. The eight defendants used the trial as a stage to proclaim their innocence and to promote democratic principles. Their defense lawyers highlighted the KMT’s offenses in Taiwan; they put Taiwan’s democracy movement on trial along with the defendants. While the court could do nothing but return a verdict of guilty as the defendants admitted their guilt, none were given a death sentence even though this was the prescribed punishment for the crime of which they were convicted. With public opinion behind them, all received lengthy jail sentences instead. Having won in the court of public opinion, several of the attorneys were propelled into public office by their victory, including Chen Shui-bian, who two years later won a seat on the Taipei City Council. Although the media largely criticized these lawyers, to common people they were heroes. These lawyers had not been a significant part of the opposition movement before the trial, but after the trial they took on key roles, raising the profile of the movement and allowing them to successfully end the ban on opposition parties in 1986. When Lee-Teng-hui rose to the presidency in 1991, he proclaimed an amnesty of the eight dissidents, and reversed the verdict to clear their names. After their release, the dissidents all served as DPP chairperson or deputy at one time or another. They helped to map the party’s path, but the baton had already passed on to the lawyers who had defended them, who were now political veterans. With a strong contingent of lawyers among its top leadership, the DPP has been

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comfortable with legalistic thinking and able to handily use rule-of-law arguments to its own benefit. With Chen’s reelection, even Beijing seems to have figured out it is up against a group of lawyers, as it has threatened to fight fire with fire, as it were, by introducing an Anti-Secession Law that could provide a legal basis for using force against Taiwan. Pro-independence activists in Taiwan were quick to point out that China’s law is only effective in its own territory, yet they also endorsed a legal-minded counteraction. They advocated drafting a new constitution in 2006 to thwart China’s legislation because Taiwan’s current constitution was drafted in China for the people of China, and specifies that China is part of the Republic of China’s (ROC) domain. In very great contrast, the KMT has many skilled bureaucrats, but few with a strong legal background. There is little precedent within the KMT for rule-of-law thinking or democratic procedures as the party has largely retained a highly bureaucratic traditional top–down power structure in which subordinates have the habit of doing only what they are told to do and discussion of alternate viewpoints is discouraged. For example, in response to the comment that KMT members who disagreed with the protest rallies or urged the party to accept its defeat are wimps, Lien Chan agreed and said that those wimps should leave the party.2 Not only do leaders advocate that those who disagree should depart, but there are no established procedures whereby members can remove the leader should he become unsatisfactory. The KMT’s arrangement seems closer to the tradition of the doctrine of the “mandate of heaven,” the notion that the ruler is the son of heaven who governs by divine right. Only the ruler’s dethronement proves that he has lost his mandate. That is, the right to rule is justified by the fact that one is the ruler. Loss of one’s right to rule is only proven in that one has lost power. In Chinese history, emperors were overthrown when they became too corrupt and their bureaucracy began to crumble and they were no longer able to “rule with virtue.” The pan-blues have used exactly this argument against Chen Shui-bian. The “lack of virtue” case against Chen Shui-bian is made in many ways. One of them that some critics highlight is the role that the eight dissidents of the Formosa Incident Trial play in the DPP party, which, with the exception of Annette Lu (who herself has legal training), is little to none. In fact, several former dissidents not only refuse to endorse the DPP, they specifically and openly speak out against Chen Shui-bian. Some have stated that they became dissidents out of high ideals and love for Taiwan, but that now many in the DPP have


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become politicians out of love of power, status, and money. They fear that getting elected has become the goal of the DPP instead of furthering the ideals that the opposition movement was founded upon. This charge of being motivated by self-interest carries a much greater component of moral condemnation than it might in a Western context. The connotations of the words for public and private in Mandarin demonstrate this point. Many things associated with public, gong, are deemed trustworthy and moral (e.g., gong ping, fairness), and those associated with private, si, are considered treacherous or amoral (e.g., si xin, hidden agenda). According to Confucian ethics, any person can cultivate himself or herself to resist personal or private desires for the benefit of the larger group. The broader the group for which a person can do good, the higher the moral standing of the individual. A person is expected to work solely for the group without thinking about personal interests because as a part of the group one’s own benefit is included in the group’s benefit. If a person is able to selflessly benefit the group, that person is said to be moral. If the person uses the group for personal benefit, that person is considered immoral. However, the main distinction between working for the group and for personal interests lies not in the action itself, but in what the person has in mind, which is of course difficult to determine through observation, leading to added concern about issues of sincerity, loyalty, and trust. Thus, the charge that Chen Shui-bian is working for personal and not solely public benefit carries an element of moral condemnation. Although it may seem odd that the KMT would use these issues as evidence against the President Chen and the DPP given their own tainted history, as discussed previously, in a Confucian culture standards are not seen as equally applicable to all people in all situations; standards are different for those in power. In sum, aside from the political considerations of the pan-blue leaders and their parties, there are a number of important psychological factors unique to a modern Confucian society that have implication for understanding Taiwan’s political situation from the perspective of Taiwanese people. These include expectations about justice and power, and therefore have significance for democracy and law in Taiwan.

The Lawsuits The pan-greens attempted to relegate the conflict over the outcome of the election to the judiciary so resolution could be achieved through the rule of law. The pan-blues indeed brought into court two

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major lawsuits regarding the election: one to annul the election on account of irregularities either by omission or commission on the part of the CEC, and the other to invalidate the status of the winning candidates either due to miscounting the ballots or due to actions on the part of the candidates with regard to the shooting, invocation of the national security mechanism, and tying the referendum to the election. However, some in the pan-blue camp feared that political clout could be used to impede the judicial process and hide evidence as they believe that Taiwan’s judiciary is biased towards whoever is in power. This bias may be the result of direct pressure from those in power through personal connections and favors called in, or it may be indirect inasmuch as any judge may recognize the opportunity to do a favor for those in power. In one sense, any Taiwanese person expected to be completely neutral, to divorce an incident from the context and the participants from their relationships is subject to an internal culture clash because the expectation that an event or a person can be lifted out of the context and away from all social connections runs counter to the fundamental cosmology of Taiwanese culture. That is, an inherent aspect of Taiwanese culture is that all relationships are perceived as embedded in a web of connections from which they cannot be separated. To expect the judiciary to be fully independent is to expect the judges to leave their Taiwaneseness behind. While many Taiwanese people are certainly capable of and even comfortable with this type of thinking, those less acquainted with such a legalistic mindset may have trouble imagining that it is possible to ignore the web of connections and lines of power, which adds another layer of complexity to trusting the judiciary. The pan-blues have continuously asserted that any verdict returned other than the conclusion they themselves had already reached (the election is invalid because Chen staged his own shooting) would be evidence of this bias in the courts. For this reason, even before filing their lawsuits, the pan-blues had already set about pushing for legislation to establish a commission to investigate the shooting that would be able to operate outside the legal system and the bounds of the constitution. This remainder of this chapter examines these lawsuits, the legislation aimed at overriding the judiciary, and related activities in the run up to the December 2004 legislative elections. On April 5, the pan-blues filed a suit against the Central Election Commission (CEC) and the local election commissions with the High Court to annul the election and call a new one, charging that there were irregularities with the CEC inasmuch as it had allowed the election to go forward after the president was shot and it had allowed the referendum


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to be held with the election. They quickly withdrew this lawsuit saying they did not like the judges they were assigned (at random by the court’s computer system), but refiled again the next day. At the first hearing in early May, the High Court ruled that the indictment presented by the pan-blue alliance was too vague and provided no evidence supporting their claims. They were given two weeks to reconstruct and resubmit their arguments, which may be summarized as follows: (1) the CEC illegally held the referendum with the election, (2) the CEC failed to postpone the election after the assassination attempt, and (3) the CEC did not properly separate voters who participated in the referendum. As proof that the shooting had unfairly influenced the election, they cited two polls, one conducted by the pro-pan-blue TVBS television station and the other by Lien’s think-tank, which showed Lien ahead by a large margin on the eve of the election. Lawyers for the CEC pointed out that the pan-blues had never requested postponement of the election, and in fact, in televised comments after the shooting, Lien Chan said that the vote shouldn’t be delayed because he was confident that voters wouldn’t become emotional and allow the incident to determine their vote. Furthermore, before the election, although the pan-blues had voiced their opposition to holding the referendum with the election, they had not challenged the legality of doing so. The lawyers also pointed out that it was the pan-blue-majority legislature that had passed the Referendum Law to provide a basis for holding referendums. The pan-blue camp filed their lawsuit challenging the election result at 11 PM on March 29. To ensure a recount could be quickly accomplished, President Chen and Vice President Annette Lu submitted a letter of consent allowing the recount to proceed without evidence of vote fraud. However, two points of contention immediately emerged, stalling the process. The first was over who would foot the cost of the recount. The loser in a civil suit has the legal obligation to pay all costs according to the Code of Civil Procedure in Taiwan. The pan-blues objected to this requirement and demanded public funding. The second point of contention was over how the recount should be conducted. Fearing they would have to foot the costs, the pan-blues asked for a recount of votes for Chen Shui-bian and the spoiled ballots only. The pan-greens asked for a recount of all votes. Since a partial recount would have required evidence of specific fraud with respect to the ballots to be recounted, the pan-blues were forced to agree to foot the bill to a comprehensive recount, which the High Court ruled should begin on May 10 in order to be completed before Chen’s scheduled inauguration on May 20.

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But, the pan-blues still had more points to protest. They tried to argue that three categories of ballots regarded as void during the initial vote count should now be considered valid. (The criteria for voiding ballots had been changed since the 2000 election, passed by the pan-blue majority legislature.) Next, the pan-blue alliance suggested it be allowed to photocopy all voter rosters, alleging that some people had been forced not to vote and that unknown persons had voted in their place. They took out several full-page advertisements in local Chinese-language newspapers asking eligible voters who had not voted to provide them copies of their identification cards, for which they would be paid NT$200 (US$6). They offered to pay NT$3,000 (US$90) if it could be shown that a vote had been cast using the ID of someone who had not voted. The advertisements also offered NT$20,000 (US$600) to those willing to testify as a witness to vote fraud. James Soong declared, “If the recount is done without outside interference, the recount would then be 100 percent guaranteed to produce a favorable result for the pan-blue alliance.”3 The recount, which proceeded under the same criteria for valid ballots as the original count, was conducted by teams consisting of a judge, a court registrar, one representative from each party, and two election workers. The final result narrowed the difference by a few thousand, and found that the majority of voided ballots (those improperly filled out) were intended for Chen. Although there were also a number of disputed ballots awaiting a final ruling by the High Court, pan-blue lawyers had to concede that even if all disputed ballots went their way they could not possibly achieve victory through a recount. However, the pan-blues continued to talk about the massive irregularities and rampant voting fraud that were identified during the recount. For example, they suggested that scrutiny of voter rolls revealed around “900,000 cases of irregularities,” and that over 99 percent of polling stations were guilty of some sort of infraction such as ballots cast by dead people or ballots cast outnumbering registered voters.4 They asserted that this evidence provided a basis for victory in their lawsuit to annul the election. The remainder of this lawsuit was aimed at disqualifying Chen and Lu on the basis of what they hoped to prove were illegal actions with regard to the national security mechanism, the referendum, and the shooting prior to the election. A steady stream of officials from former and current ministers of defense, to the political warfare department director and top representatives from the police, coast guard, and military testified at the High Court hearings on invocation of the


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national security mechanism. All told the same story. No personnel had been deterred from voting because no extra personnel were ordered to stay at their posts as a result of the invocation of the national security mechanism since it was already routine for the military to maintain a certain level of combat readiness ahead of major elections. The defense minister explained that the bureau had set up a toll-free number with 12 lines to encourage troops to file complaints if anyone already given leave of absence during polling was forced to remain on duty at the last minute, but not a single complaint had been filed. The High Court ruled against the pan-blue lawsuit contesting the legitimacy of the reelection of Chen and Lu. Many in the pan-blue alliance were convinced of the court’s bias and pointed to the illogical statements the court had made in handing down its decision as evidence. The court had stated that even if it could be proven the shooting incident had been staged, it would not be sufficient to prove election fraud since no voters were forced to vote against their own free will. Critics interpreted this statement to mean the court was in effect saying that cheating in elections is legal, which makes no sense, thus proving the bias of the court. The court had also said, “The president’s decision to hold the defensive referendum alongside the presidential election was not perfectly lawful according to the Referendum Law, however, it did not violate the Election Law,” which critics said implied that violation of laws other than the Election Law is not important during elections.5 Again they felt this nonsensical argument proved the court’s bias. Lien Chan vowed to appeal the ruling saying, “The battle is not yet finished. This suit was just the first trial, and the result is not yet final. We will appeal the case for the sake of the nation’s stability, justice, and fairness.”6 December 30, 2004 the High Court overruled the pan-blues’ other lawsuit to annul the election. They rejected the claim of 900,000 illegal ballots, and the claim that holding a referendum with the election violated the principle of a secret ballot. They also found no evidence of an increased number of military and police on alert and so found that activation of the national security mechanism had no influence on the election. The pan-blue camp vowed to appeal because the judges “expressed clear bias” throughout the proceedings, and “deliberately ignored and dismissed large portions of pan-blue camp evidence.”7

The Truth About Bulletgate Finding “the truth about bulletgate” was a focal point of the protests immediately following the election. The pan blues began pushing for

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legislation to set up a special investigation committee to review the shooting even before they filed their lawsuits. With a small majority in the legislature it appeared the blues would be able to quickly push their agenda through. But, on April 9, the DPP and the Taiwan Solidarity Union (TSU) managed to stall the legislation by requesting cross-party negotiations on the bill, which requires a four-month discussion period before a final vote could be made. This move angered many pan-blue legislators who had hoped to make progress with investigations before the inauguration in May, and led to rounds of shouting matches between the opposing sides in the legislature. In the months leading up to the vote in August, new facts and theories related to the shooting were revealed: Chen and Lu had not ridden in a government vehicle, but in a plain jeep owned by a local politician, driven by an untrained private citizen. A People First Party (PFP) legislator held a press conference at which a veiled woman stated that the bullet was fired from Annette Lu’s purse. Some claimed the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency had satellite photos of the faking of the president’s wound. Others declared that British experts had examined photos of Chen’s wounds and determined the wounds to be the result of a surgical knife and not a gunshot. There was speculation that Chen’s wound had been inflicted prior to his participation in the parade, and that Lu was the only one to actually have been shot. Evidence was provided that the two bullets found could not have been fired from the same gun, suggesting there must have been two shooters. Finally, the question remained as to how a gunman could have fired the shots and got away in broad daylight in front of hundreds of security guards and a huge crowd of well-wishers in the president’s home town. Not just the facts surrounding the event were deemed suspect. Many also found it particularly suspicious that although a number of people were removed from their posts (fired or impeached by the Control Yuan for having weak eyes and ears and reacting slowly) as a result of the assassination attempt, just prior to the president’s inauguration, the Presidential Office decorated President Chen’s top two security personnel. The explanation was that although they had been punished for their handling of the assassination attempt, their contributions as hard-working civil servants should still be honored. The KMT legislative caucus deputy whip expressed a point of view shared by many: “The punishment was just a trick to cheat the public and the rewards were actually to thank them for their cooperation in executing the staged shooting.”8 A third area of concern was that the shooting of Taiwan’s head of state and the vice president had been officially classified only as an


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ordinary criminal case and put under the jurisdiction of the local prosecutor’s office. Furthermore, the head of the investigation was the Criminal Investigation Bureau (CIB) Chief Commissioner Hou You-yi, who had been promoted by President Chen more than once in his career. They doubted Hou could lead a fair investigation into the shooting if Chen was complicit in it. As discussed in chapter 8, the pan-blues drafted a statute providing for the formation of the “March 19 Shooting Truth Investigation Special Committee,” which would allow it to be established and operate outside the current legal and constitutional framework of Taiwan. The proposed committee would have free rein to investigate all government agencies and individuals, including authorization to issue orders to prosecutors. It would not be subject to the Code of Criminal Procedure so it would not be required to produce subpoenas, search warrants, or other documents required in any normal judicial procedure in Taiwan. (All law enforcement officials require warrants from prosecutors approved by judges.) Furthermore, the committee could command prosecutors and military prosecutors as well as police, military police, and other law enforcement officers whose jobs concern national security and public order. Members of the committee would be appointed by the parties in proportion to their representation in the legislature. Individuals, organizations, and even government bodies who refused to cooperate or even attempted to remain silent faced fines up to NT$1 million (US$30,000), possible prison sentences, and restriction from leaving the country. The pan-greens were opposed to the formation of a second task force to investigate the case, especially one outside the existing legal and constitutional system. However, by July, with no progress and few leads in the investigation, President Chen began to consider establishing a second committee to review the results of the first task force. He proposed the Control Yuan’s right to investigate be exercised in conjunction with the current task force in order to clarify the incident. The proposed team would have the function of monitoring the existing team, but would not itself have the ability to conduct investigations. It would be convened under the leadership of Control Yuan President Frederick Chien, a highly regarded former KMT member. The DPP proposal was completely rejected, and the pan-blues were able to pass their version through the legislature on the final day of an extra legislative sitting the end of August. In response, the Ministry of Justice issued a statement strongly condemning the statute as unconstitutional and the “greatest humiliation of democracy and legal order.”9 The Taipei Society, the Judicial Reform Foundation, the

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Taiwan Law Society, and the Prosecutors’ Reform Association jointly released a statement outlining their failed efforts to work with pan-blue legislators to develop an acceptable investigation committee. They stated that they did “not oppose the tasking of an independent prosecutor to carry out the judicial investigation, but such a practice must be exempt from political influence.” They objected to the task force being composed in proportion to party representation in the legislature (KMT: 5, PFP: 4, DPP: 6, TSU: 1, independents: 1). They objected to the fact that the task force was not subject to the Code of Criminal Procedure and that the committee could request retrials if a court verdict contradicted the committee’s findings. They also objected that no majority was required to proceed with a particular course of investigation (only 4 out of 17 members). Pan-blue legislators denied the commission had unlimited powers, claiming “it would only override the nation’s existing laws when individuals, groups, or government agencies resisted its investigations.”10 The Cabinet exercised its authority to return the statute to the legislature for reconsideration, where the blues pulled together the simple majority needed to override the veto. The bill was sent to President Chen who had no choice but to promulgate it into law, which he did on September 24, 2004. Chen took the unusual step of adding his comments to the bill to highlight his extreme reservations and his desire for a constitutional interpretation. The DPP and TSU caucuses lost no time in applying for a constitutional interpretation of the statute, which usually takes about six months to a year. Although there was no precedent in Taiwan’s law, they also applied for a temporary injunction to stay the committee until the Council of Grand Justices could issue a ruling, arguing that “this is like when a car’s brakes are not working and it shouldn’t go on the road lest it cause accidents.”11 The Judicial Yuan agreed that the Council of Grand Justices could hold three hearings on the request for a temporary injunction and requested that each party in legislature send two representatives to debate in the hearing. The pan-blues refused to allow any representatives to participate on behalf of the legislature, saying that the decision to hold the hearings was unconstitutional as the Council of Grand Justices has no right to issue an injunction of any kind. They acknowledged the law was not free of defects, but defended it as “a newborn baby with a birth mark on its beautiful face.”12 Condemning their rivals for “evading the truth” they got right to work nominating their nine truth committee members, who, as per the law, were required to be civilians who currently held no government or elected offices. The pan-greens


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instituted a policy of non-cooperation. They nominated no committee members, and President Chen did not ratify the appointment of the pan-blue camp’s nominees; and so they could have no official status, although his move did not prevent their appointment as the law included a provision that their assignment become effective automatically. The Cabinet, which under the new Law was required to pay the committee’s expenses out of its budget, refused to make disbursements. The committee, comprised only of the nine pan-blue nominees plus one member nominated by independents in the legislature, began operation on October 5, 2004, and selected a convener. The pan-blue alliance decided not to fill the vacant seats reserved for DPP and TSU nominated-members to ensure the principle of impartiality. As one KMT lawmaker said, “Leaving the seats designated for those parties vacant preserves the spirit of the truth commission.”13 The interior minister immediately argued that civil servants had the right to resist the committee because the new law required them to “walk towards a cliff when they know they will fall off.”14 The DPP whip went one step further, not only urging all government employees disobey the commission, but also threatening those cooperating with the commission with impeachment by the Control Yuan.15 Pan-green arguments that the committee was unconstitutional were not completely without acknowledgement from the pan-blues. On the day of its inauguration, the committee’s convener Shih Chih-yang, a former president of the Judicial Yuan, demanded a revision to the law governing the committee. The PFP caucus also proposed revisions, although the KMT did not. They proposed adding a restriction to the length of the committee’s investigation and eliminating the portion of the statute allowing the committee to circumvent the Law of National Secrets Protection, the Trade Secrets Act, and the Code of Criminal Procedure. The DPP dismissed these suggested revisions as reducing the extent to which the statute contravenes the constitution from 85 percent to 75 percent. Five senior Cabinet members went to visit the new committee and request that they voluntarily suspend operation until the Grand Justices made a ruling, but the visit apparently degenerated into a screaming match almost immediately upon their arrival. Matters were not much better the next day when some committee members traveled to Tainan to begin their investigation. Protesters surrounded the Tainan District Prosecutors’ Office and attempted to prevent them from entering the building. During the meeting, screaming protesters threw eggs at the building and at police.

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Additional problems were immediately evident. On October 9, the committee had scheduled a briefing by the Criminal Investigation Bureau on its investigation of the shooting, but detectives did not comply, reportedly under pressure from superiors. The committee also requested that the police and prosecutors provide them all the materials that they had collected and analyzed for the case. However, as evidence in criminal cases must be kept in secure custody and the committee’s office had no armed protection, the transfer was refused. A committee member’s statement on a call-in TV talk show that he suspected Chen had faked the shootings led to calls by the DPP to ban committee members from publicly commenting on the investigation. By the end of November, the commission had requested 23 organizations or officials to provide 52 different kinds of documents and give responses to 66 specific questions—but its requests for the most part were ignored.16 The commission said it would impose fines and request the Control Yuan to impeach those behind the boycott, including the prosecutor general, the Criminal Investigation Bureau chief, the premier, the justice minister, and the interior minister, although the government agencies responsible for collecting the fines refused to take action. Stymied by lack of funds and lack of cooperation, the committee members decided to post a list of ten major questions on the March 19 shooting on their website rather than come up with any conclusions.17 These questions were mostly aimed at casting doubt as to whether Chen indeed was ever shot, for example: Was there a second shot? Why did Chen’s wound look like a knife wound? Why did the damage to Chen’s jacket not resemble one caused by a bullet? Why were there two bullet holes in both Chen’s shirt and his pants, when the only wound was to the president’s stomach? By December, the topic under investigation by the committee had turned to how President Chen wears his pants: low slung or high up around his waist. This crucial piece of information was relevant to the question of how President Chen’s pants could have escaped any sign of damage given the location of the wound, and led to the surmise that “Chen must have been wearing very low-slung pants for the trousers to remain unscathed, a sartorial impossibility that would not allow the president to walk properly. It would have been an abnormal way of wearing pants.”18 The truth committee was causing a terrible dilemma for many civil servants as to whether to cooperate with a committee that seemed to be operating in blatant violation of the constitution, whether or not they agreed with its aims. Do civil servants have the right to disobey a


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law they deem to be unconstitutional or illegal before the judiciary has ruled on it? What would be the implication of setting such a precedent? If individuals take it upon themselves to judge a law to be invalid and the government refuses to enforce the penalty, what is the value of the judiciary’s ruling? The situation was giving rise to a judicial crisis. Furthermore, the Council of Grand Justices was criticized for its unusually prompt action on agreeing to consider the injunction request when there was no precedent for it to grant one. Also, allegations were made that some of its members had tried to influence lawmakers a few weeks earlier when the legislature was nearing a vote on the statute. The issues surrounding the committee were not the only crisis in the making. Shortly before the December legislative elections, Lien Chan announced that if his party achieved a legislative majority, he would form a new Cabinet. In Taiwan, the premier is appointed by the president, and does not require the approval of the legislature. The premier forms the Cabinet with the approval of the president. Although the premier may be recalled by the legislature, the president has the ability to dissolve the legislature and call for new elections. This sort of political crisis would have high costs for Taiwan, especially as China has suggested it will not sit idly by if Taiwan slips into a chaotic situation.

Much Ado About a Coup Discussion on what may have motivated the pan-blue leaders, their parties, and their supporters to carry on the protests and follow through with legislation leads to the question of what they were trying to accomplish. Ostensibly their quest has been for the truth regarding the shooting and justice in the election. However, when a variety of people attending the demonstrations were asked what evidence they would need to see or hear in order to feel satisfied that Chen was not somehow involved, most replied that there was nothing that could convince them of other than what they already knew to be the truth. If the courts found against their election fraud suits (which it did on November 5, and December 30, 2004), then that would merely be evidence that the courts were rigged. Many pan-blue supporters feel deeply that Chen has a record of deception. Given the fervency of this belief, they find it hard to accept anything he says as the truth. So, when President Chen offered to recount the ballots, they immediately suspected a trick and claimed that he would be able to add in “fake votes” so of course the recount

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would come out in his favor. When told that a taskforce would investigate the shooting, they immediately assumed that Chen would only agree if he had already disposed of the evidence, so it could not have any real results. The only acceptable answer from Chen would be his acknowledgment of their claim. No other answer would suffice. Exactly along these lines was Lien Chan’s remark shortly before the decision was announced: He proclaimed his hope that the judges “do not forget their responsibility and make the right decision,”19 but warned that if the court did not find in his favor “now everyone has the right to kill the person who committed the election fraud [Chen Shui-bian].” If they already knew the truth, and no evidence could convince them otherwise, and no court or investigation committee could arrive at a fair judgment, what were they trying to accomplish with the lawsuits and the legislation? What would constitute justice? Some have claimed that the pan-blues aimed to overthrow the government in a soft coup. On April 25, 2004 President Chen went to National Chiayi Senior High School to join their eightieth anniversary celebration. Addressing the crowd, he said that the previous year when he had been invited to attend, he had not been sure that he would be reelected. If he had not been reelected, he would not have had the face to come, so he had made the decision that he must be reelected. Chen said that he had met three challenges: “The first is I did not die. The second is that I won the election. The third is I survived an unsuccessful coup. If the coup had been successful, I would not have been able to be here, so it is God’s will I am here.”20 The day before, Lee Teng-hui, who had kept silent since the election, had remarked that the pan-blues’ month-long protest had the political purpose of fomenting a military coup d’etat. Lee suggested that their original goal had been to use mob activities to influence the United States not to recognize Chen’s reelection. Because of China’s threats, this would cause instability in the military and might have allowed the People’s Liberation Army to enter Taiwan on the pretense of social volatility, which would have forced Chen to declare a state of emergency. At this point, the pan-blues had hoped to grab power. Lee claimed that there was a report of the top pan-blue leadership secretly meeting with pro-pan-blue generals in Taiwan’s military. Chen’s and Lee’s coup remarks had a major impact in Taiwan’s political circles. Many in the pan-blue camp suggested that Chen’s statement was an attempt to consolidate his power in the midst of pan-blue infighting by twisting the reality of the situation to “mislead


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the public and tarnish the spirit of the constitution.”21 They pointed out that all the demonstrations had been legal and authorized, and that the protestors’ requests had all been reasonable. PFP legislators suggested that Chen’s and Lee’s statements indicated they did not trust the military and in fact had humiliated the military and the police force. They charged Chen and Lee were now stirring up new conflict and further splitting the country and pointed out that although there had been several violent incidents, these had not included government employees, military, or police. They said it was not a coup, only a kind of violence and that no one had tried to grab power. The military’s spokesman confirmed, “The troops will not stage a coup, and have never attempted so.”22 Chen’s charges, the pan-blues said, prove that he is not qualified to be the nation’s leader. Many technical definitions of “coup d’etat” were provided in order to prove that no coup had been attempted. The PFP filed criminal and civil slander suits against both Chen and Lee and requested the defendants publish an apology in the newspaper for ten days. In response, the Presidential Office spokesman back-peddled a bit, saying that the president’s use of the word coup was merely a description of the atmosphere, but he also clarified that the president had not implied the protesters were part of a coup, just the opposition leaders. Furthermore, the president had not singled out any particular individuals, and, therefore, it was not necessary to apologize. The DPP legislative caucus said that a better way to describe the opposition’s protests would be an “unsuccessful revolution.” Before the election the pan-blues had begun warning of possible riots and unrest at polling stations. Since March 20, their protests had undermined the stability of society and the security of the country. After their first successful rally, they had warned the government “not to underestimate the power of the people” and that future rallies “may not be as sensible as the last time.”23 Pan-blue leaders had tried to whip up the crowd’s emotions. They had not informed crowds at their March 27 protest that the administration supported a full recount and had already agreed to accept the pan-blue-recommended forensics experts; instead, they emphasized that the Chen administration refused to investigate the truth and opposed a recount. They had led people in attacking government buildings. A PFP legislator had encouraged the public to “shoot President Chen dead” if they run into him.24 At the rallies the pan-blue leadership had frightened people by saying repeatedly that China would have no choice but to attack. They had threatened endless protests for the next four years if the president didn’t

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meet their demands. They had brought people on stage who had called for illegal actions and one speaker had declared Lien and Soong the president and vice president of Taiwan. Soong himself had remarked that about a million military and police could join the demonstration and that he would lead a charge on the Presidential Office. Televised media had captured PFP civil servants and legislators proclaiming they would launch a revolution to oust Chen and his administration, and reported that some pan-blue leaders asked mayors and commissioners who are KMT members to organize another central government. The PFP’s official Web site encouraged supporters to form dare-to-die corps to break into the Presidential Office, and some KMT-PFP legislators even urged the military and police departments to start an uprising.25

The day before the planned large-scale protest on March 26, pan-blue leaders held a press conference to demand that the Control Yuan, the branch of government responsible for ensuring that civil servants and elected officials fulfill their duties, investigate and initiate impeachment proceedings against several top administration officials, including the premier, the Cabinet spokesman, and the National Security Bureau chief.26 The PFP legislative caucus had even threatened to file an injunction with the High Court to stop the inauguration of President Chen and proposed that Legislative Speaker and KMT Deputy Chairman Wang Jin-pyng act as Chen’s proxy until the election controversy was settled. Both PFP and KMT legislators declared the inauguration ceremony illegal and refused to recognize it. There is no denying that the pan-blues attempted to alter the results of a democratic election by overriding the system in place for dealing with complaints. It is also true that some pan-blue legislators fanned the flames. Did they just hope to cause trouble for the Chen administration? Or did their hopes go beyond that? Until and unless more evidence comes to light, it would be hard to say. A local newspaper had reported rumors that some retired generals had called on Defense Minister Tang Yao-ming the evening of the election to “make a decision [about staging a coup].”27 Tang’s resignation two days after the election had added fuel to these rumors. However, a military spokesman denied that Tang had met with or talked with any retired generals that evening. Military and security officials told lawmakers that they had never received any information concerning any coup attempts either before or after the election. The military spokesman stated that there is no issue of a military coup: It’s like if a person has not been sick, there is no point in going to a hospital.


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On November 15, Chen again directly stated his belief that Lien Chan and James Soong had tried to stage a soft coup. He explained, “I have investigated thoroughly the people who were involved, at what places and at what times. Some retired generals were instigating high-ranking military leaders to resign or claim to be ill from their posts one by one.”28 He said it was not intended to be a military coup, but a soft coup. Fortunately it failed. Chen also remarked that those involved in the incident had confessed. The defense ministry remarked that it did not have sufficient information to back up the president’s allegation that opposition leaders tried to talk generals into staging a coup, and the defense ministry spokesman told reporters that the military’s allegiance to the country is absolutely certain, adding that the possibility of a military coup was nil.29 In addition, pan-blue leaders quickly pointed out that none of the military leaders in question had in fact resigned or claimed illness. They challenged President Chen to provide evidence, and called on the defense ministry to sue the president. “Chen’s guilty conscience, gossip-mongering, and inability to lead the country, these are serious things. We will pursue this to the end,” said Lien Chan, and the KMT spokesman explained, “Chen is saying these things only to make headlines and increase the DPP’s support from voters [in the year-end legislative elections]. An administration should rely on its accomplishments to win people’s hearts, not use fear to threaten people.”30


C hapter 11

F aith Unites, Reason D ivides

Looking at small advantages prevents great affairs from being accomplished. Confucius

W

hatever the goal of the protests and legislation, parallel to the pan-blue efforts to dethrone Chen Shui-bian were endeavors within the Kuomintang (KMT) to topple their own leader and change the KMT’s relationship with the People First Party (PFP). The pan-blue alliance’s main hope of retaining some sort of control of the government was to hold on to their legislative majority in December’s election. After the lawsuits were underway, finding a strategy to achieve this goal became a focus. With the surprising election loss, criticism over the violence of the rallies, and building internal turmoil, Lien Chan felt the solution was clear; he announced that the KMT and PFP would work toward a merger. As for a timetable, Lien said “the sooner the better,” and the KMT secretary-general said he thought the merger would “be more meaningful if the deal could be finalized ahead of the year-end legislative elections.”1

To Merge or Not to Merge Lien Chan’s announcement seemed to come as a surprise to some pan-blue lawmakers, who disliked learning of the plan from the media and questioned the lack of transparency in decision-making. They suggested that the merger served the interests of a few individuals and not the party as a whole. They believed the party’s best interests would be served by moving the party ideologically to a more centrist position supported by the majority of Taiwanese. That is, they wanted to Taiwanize or localize the party. For example, the KMT Strategy and Discourse Unit, co-headed by KMT Vice Chairmen Vincent Siew and

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Wang Jin-pyng, announced it was considering eliminating the “one China” principle (which is supported by the PFP) as the basis of its cross-strait policy and replacing it with concepts more broadly accepted by mainstream society. They advocated solid steps in the direction that Lee Teng-hui had led the party including acceptance of the concept of an independent Taiwan, Republic of China (ROC). This proposed shift of political ideology was not compatible with the merger or retaining Lien Chan as the party leader. There was some attempt to remove Lien after the KMT’s Central Standing Committee unanimously approved the merger proposal at their May 19 meeting (Vice Chairman Vincent Siew did not attend), and Lien announced that the merger plan would be forwarded to the upcoming national party congress in July for approval and confirmation. Charging that the merger was a strategy to safeguard Lien and Soong, pan-blue members supportive of Taiwanizing the KMT spoke out against it and began calling on Ma Ying-jeou to make a bid for the party chairmanship. Reportedly, at the Central Standing Committee meeting Ma had indirectly expressed reservations by thrice suggesting that the merger decision be made from the bottom–up, to which Lien had advised, “faith unites, reason divides.”2 Indeed, many faithful KMT grassroots supporters disapproved of the faction hoping to Taiwanize the KMT, calling them “green wolves in blue sheep’s clothing” and suggesting that Lien Chan take action to uphold party discipline. Lien tried to lessen the sense of crisis within the KMT by acknowledging the internal conflict and putting a positive spin on it: “The Party today does not need happy sparrows to sing words of praise. What we need are woodpeckers to peck out the worms and tell the truth, even if the truth might be unpleasant.”3 An outspoken member of a group of young KMT members calling itself the Blue Eagle Warriors quickly responded that they were indeed woodpeckers, but Lien was the worm that must be removed to keep the KMT tree healthy. A number of KMT members opposed the merger not only because they saw it as a mechanism for Lien’s continued power, they also believed that the inappropriate actions of many PFP legislators during the protests would reflect badly on the more moderate KMT, and felt it would be harmful to the KMT,’s December election results if the merger were to proceed. Lien Chan’s response was to emphasize unity against a common enemy: “The opposition force should not act like a pile of loose sand, because disunity between the opposition forces [KMT and PFP] serves the DPP’s cause.”4 In fact, as Lien toured Taiwan in mid-June


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ostensibly to thank supporters for their efforts in the presidential election, he was reportedly subject to endless calls for reform of the party and warnings about merging with the PFP. Lien’s strategic response was to continue to focus on his message that the election had been unfair, and that the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) was manipulating ethnic issues. Doubts about the prospect of a merger were not confined to the KMT. Surprisingly, even James Soong seemed tentative about the announcement. He characterized the PFP as disciplined and well respected and the KMT as corrupt, and noted that the KMT still needs to tackle many issues, including localization, party assets, black-gold politics, and internal power struggles. The PFP caucus whip pointed out that some KMT legislators went missing during the presidential election campaign, but came back to criticize their party afterwards, warning that the KMT needed to cut out the pro-localization faction trying to split the party. The PFP challenged the KMT to clear out those not ideologically in line with the PFP. This requirement makes sense—if the pro-localization faction could be pushed out, the PFP would become the ideological core of the KMT. It also makes sense from a resource perspective. Pushing out the pro-localization faction would leave more legislative seats and funds available to the PFP. KMT lawmakers of the localization faction faced a dilemma: They wanted the nomination and the campaign resources of the KMT for the upcoming legislative election, so most were unwilling to risk a direct revolt against Lien. However, they could not simply go along with Lien’s merger as it would be bad for their reelection prospects. Their best hope was to delay the merger at least until after the election. By the end of June there were already reports that James Soong and Lien Chan had met in secret to discuss the feasibility of forming an alliance “out of consideration for electoral strategy” as an alternative to immediately merging the two parties 5 However, they were still determined to cooperate in the December legislative elections, and retained the merger as an ultimate goal. Toward that end, in mid-July, the KMT leadership approved an amendment to the party charter to eliminate a regulation stipulating that members who have been disciplined or ejected from the party are not eligible to become party chairpersons or central standing committee members. The change would allow James Soong to return to the KMT with full membership rights. However, a couple of days after the KMT amended its party charter, a local Chinese-language daily reported that the PFP intended to delay the merger due to opposition from a PFP vice chairman. The PFP denied these reports, although the vice chairman did reiterate

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that the KMT would have to “eliminate Lee Teng-hui’s influence within the KMT, and solve the problems of ethnic and cross-strait conflict, and black-gold politics, which were built up during Lee’s tenure, so that the KMT-PFP cooperation can meet public expectations.”6 Perhaps it was with this warning in mind that the KMT announced in early August the nomination of its first group of candidates for the year-end legislative elections. Feeling overlooked, some pro-localization lawmakers announced they would depart from the party or that they would run as independents or under the Taiwan Solidarity Union’s (TSU) banner in December. The KMT’s campaign themes for the election were also met with skepticism from a number of legislators who suggested that the KMT leadership should not keep dwelling on its “anti Chen Shui-bian” campaign platform and urged the leadership to consult “with the legislative hopefuls who are on the frontlines of the December election battle.”7 By mid-August there were reports from the KMT leadership that the KMT, PFP, and New Party (NP) would merge in October, but the possibility seemed to fade quickly as arguments developed over how to field candidates for the legislative election. As the largest party by far, the KMT hoped all candidates might register under its banner. However, the PFP feared marginalization. Because of the nature of Taiwan’s legislative election system, candidates compete not only with other parties, but also with other nominees from their own party for a set number of seats per district. The procedure used is single nontransferable voting—each voter chooses a single candidate, and votes are not redistributed, meaning that votes received in excess of the number needed to win are wasted. Thus, to be elected a candidate needs only to receive more votes than other candidates, not a majority of votes cast. The top vote-getters in each district win the seats representing that district; so fielding too many candidates for a single party can result in dilution of the vote, and failure for any of a party’s candidates to get elected. The PFP and the KMT needed to work out the exact number of candidates to be nominated in each district to prevent the pan-blue vote from being split. Despite such agreements, some KMT candidates who had not been officially nominated insisted on campaigning anyway. Furthermore, in some cases the KMT not only did not discipline these candidates, but continued to show support for them. The PFP’s response? In the PFP caucus’s words: “We felt like our hearts had been pierced by knives, which also led us to doubt the KMT’s sincerity over the merger.”8 November 27, a mere two weeks before the election, a meeting between Lien and Soong was summarized by the KMT spokesperson: “The


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chairmen believe the most important thing for each party now is to do its best for itself.”9

Reasons to Give Up “Love Taiwan” A key to winning any election lies in framing the debate. President Chen was able to do just that with the referendum in the presidential election. The referendum was successful in rallying support for Chen inasmuch as it tapped into themes related to emerging Taiwanese consciousness. However, after the election, it was not just members and supporters of the pan-blue alliance who criticized this strategy as a source of ethnic conflict and as divisive to society. DPP members also began to step forward with complaints of their own. DPP Legislator Shen Fu-hsiung proposed that the DPP require that legislative candidates not use the topics of ethnicity, indigenization, or “love Taiwan” as themes in their year-end election campaigns. Like the pan-blues, Shen criticized Chen for manipulating ethnic issues pertaining to Taiwanese national identity to gain votes, and highlighted the long-term negative social impact of these actions. His proposal was that the DPP should lead by personal example to show sincerity and good faith in resolving tensions. Anything less would not be enough to remedy the harm done by the DPP in invoking this topic in the past. Shen suggested that the theme of “indigenization” had arisen in reaction to the waisheng Taiwanese forcing their culture on native Taiwanese, but that the topic had run its course and need not be further emphasized; whether or not someone loves Taiwan should not be an election issue. Given the uncertainty of the situation across the Taiwan Strait and the fact that the Chinese authorities were looking at Taiwan like a tiger eyeing its prey, he advocated that the people of Taiwan come together instead of hiding in their pillboxes, lobbing criticisms at one another. Shen provided three arguments for giving up the “love Taiwan” campaign theme.10 First, according to various polls, over 90 percent of Taiwan’s population says it loves Taiwan. However, those who do not say they love Taiwan are not an organized force trying to take over the government or damage society. Why not respect their voice? Why force anyone to take a stand? Why not incorporate their opinions into the range of feelings about Taiwan? Those who do not say they love Taiwan are not enemies. Second, it does not seem possible to determine the depth of people’s love for Taiwan by their viewpoint on a particular issue or what year

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they or their family arrived in Taiwan. For example, in central and south Taiwan many people worry that if the three links are established, traditional industries will suffer. But, it would be unfair to say that people who object to the three links love Taiwan, and those who agree to the three links do not love Taiwan because each side has pros and cons worthy of discussion. Third, there is no way to use an objective scientific method to measure the depth of a person’s love for Taiwan. Just because someone says they love Taiwan very much does not mean they love Taiwan more than other people. For example, if a girl has two suitors and her father hopes she will choose the one with the rich and powerful family, but her mother thinks she should marry the ordinary person whom she loves, it can not be said that one parent loves the daughter more than the other. Both parents love their daughter; it is just their viewpoints are that different. Following these arguments, “love Taiwan” should not be manipulated as a campaign strategy to win votes. Shen Fu-hsiung’s remarks were criticized by many DPP members, some of whom dismissed his remarks as an attempt to curry favor with pro-blue voters in Taipei so as to pave the way for a bid in the 2006 Taipei mayoral election. Others labeled the remarks “superfluous” as anyone would agree with them. They ridiculed Shen with a Mandarin expression, saying he would “take off his trousers to fart.” The DPP defended its campaign themes, asserting they were intended to benefit the country. The most immediate result of Shen’s plea was that he became a hero in the eyes of many pan-blue supporters and pro-pan-blue media organizations. But, not all his new publicity was good. Shen was derided by a popular pro-independence call-in TV show host who rhetorically asked his audience, “Is loving Taiwan a crime?” Shen’s office was subsequently bombarded by complaint phone calls from pan-green supporters upset about his remarks. Shen then compared himself to legendary martyr Wu Feng, who reputedly sacrificed himself for the sake of ethnic harmony. Many in the pan-blue camp agreed with Shen’s assessment and saw the incident as evidence of the Chen administration’s lack of tolerance for alternative viewpoints with regard to Taiwan. Shen Fu-hsiung was not the only one in the DPP promoting the idea of taking proactive steps to reduce social and political tensions. A group of young DPP legislators advanced their idea of a “New Cultural Discourse” to end ethnic conflict and form a consensus on national identity. Recognizing that many waisheng Taiwanese and Hoklo identify with the name ROC and that the name placates China,


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they advocated that the current national title should be retained, especially since the nation’s sovereignty has already been confirmed and Tawianese consciousness has taken root. A reconciliation campaign aimed at recognizing the national title as an important symbol that unites Taiwanese and that stabilizes the cross-strait situation was initiated under the title “Transcend Confrontation, Deepen Reform.” The call for moderation of some of the DPP’s agenda gained momentum within the party. Some urged Chen to hold off his plans to rewrite the constitution in order not to stir up further political confrontations. For example, a former DPP secretary-general and leader of the party’s prominent New Tide Faction reminded Chen that “the constitutional rewriting project requires a high degree of social consensus, but the current volatile political environment won’t allow such an initiative.”11 Others called on Chen to ensure that all rally materials distributed at the May 20 inauguration, such as hats and clothing, display the image of the DPP flag intersecting with the ROC flag as a gesture of inclusion. (The presidential campaign was conducted with minimal use of the ROC flag. Instead the DPP flag was prominently displayed.) Why was this issue so important? Many believed it did not simply pertain to reconciling the political and ethnic divide and improving social relations within Taiwan; it was also vital to maintaining the island’s economic viability and international security. There must be dialogue and compromise within Taiwan; otherwise, there is risk of isolation in regional and international organizations. If Taiwan is consumed with internal conflict, it will fall behind. From this perspective, Taiwan’s own worst enemy is itself. Until a consensus on national identity is developed, Taiwan cannot move forward. Social and political division pose a danger to Taiwan’s stability and security.

The Inaugural Address Tensions were high in the weeks preceding President Chen’s inauguration on May 20. Everyone worried what President Chen would talk about in his address. Opposition leaders announced their determination to hold mass rallies during the inauguration, admitting they were aware of the potential negative consequences but casting them as “the price the parties have to pay in the relentless pursuit for truth and for the long-term development of democracy.”12 A group of KMT legislators threatened to call a vote of no confidence against the Cabinet immediately following the inauguration. There were media reports of bulletin-board posts on the PFP website urging PFP supporters to

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disrupt the inauguration with petrol bombs and spears. Another post was reported to have been a call for formation of a kamikaze squad to die fighting for the cause.13 Not only was there tension within Taiwan, relations were not improving across the Taiwan Strait either. Eight Chinese warships and 1,500 officers arrived in Hong Kong just prior to the inauguration as Beijing warned that Taiwan’s leadership faced a choice between two paths: “to pull back immediately from their dangerous lurch towards independence, recognizing that both sides of the Taiwan Straits belong to the one and same China” or “to keep following their separatist agenda . . . and, in the end, meet their own destruction by playing with fire.”14 It reiterated that nothing is more sacred than safeguarding the sovereignty and territorial integrity of China and “the Chinese people will crush their schemes firmly and thoroughly at any cost.”15 A Washington-based think-tank urged the Bush administration to take diplomatic steps to prevent Beijing from launching a surprise attack against Taiwan. An op-ed piece in the Washington Post by two China experts suggested an improved framework for cross-strait relations was needed or else the probability of war across the strait would increase. President Chen’s inaugural address16 seemed aimed at placating those suspicious of his intentions. He adopted a mild tone to address both the issue of ethnic conflict and cross-strait tensions. He acknowledged that “the issues of identity and ethnicity are a serious matter that cannot be denied or deliberately overlooked,” and offered to “take the first step and begin with candid self-reflection.” He said he hoped to “scale the wall of antagonism, and, find ways to reconcile the deep divide caused by distrust.” President Chen clarified that historical incidents, such as the February-28 Incident, included both native and waisheng Taiwanese victims, and “were not historical representations of subjugation by ethnic groups, rather, abuse of power by a ruling government.” He acknowledged that “no single ethnic group alone should undeservingly bear the burden of history.” He recognized that all Taiwan’s people “have made a unique contribution to this land and each has become an indispensable member of our ‘New Taiwan’ family,” and said “we should embrace one another with more tolerance and understanding,” transcending “the limitations of ethnicity, lineage, language, and culture to build a new and unified sense of shared destiny.” Chen also made remarks with regard to cross-strait relations that seemed aimed at signaling he intended to improve relations during his second term. Although he defended the international existence of the


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ROC and presented plans for a “constitutional re-engineering project,” he also pledged that any constitutional change would be undertaken by a reconstituted National Assembly, and not by referendum, and that these constitutional reforms would not touch on the issues of sovereignty, territory, or the national title. He emphasized that both sides “must work together to guarantee there will be no unilateral change to the status quo in the Taiwan Strait.” He even went so far as to recognize that “the peoples on both sides share a common ancestral, cultural and historical heritage,” and to express that if the two sides could find common ground based on freedom of choice and a peaceful relationship, then in the future Taiwan and China could “establish relations in any form whatsoever. We would not exclude any possibility as long as there is the consent of the 23 million people of Taiwan.”

The 6108 Debate The referendum addressed the nature of Taiwan’s relations with China by asking whether Taiwan should strengthen its self-defense capabilities and/or build toward negotiations with China based on equality. Although the majority of people who participated in the referendum supported both items (over 90 percent), the number of participants did not reach half of all registered voters—so the results were not legally binding. However, in his acceptance speech on the night of the election, President Chen still pledged to “abide by the democratic decisions made directly by the people and respond with concrete action.”17 Almost immediately there was evidence of Chen’s will to follow through on this pledge. On March 31, the Pentagon announced approval of the sale of a long-range early-warning radar system to Taiwan, which would “contribute to the foreign policy and national security of the United States by helping to improve the security and defensive capability of the recipient.”18 Actually, the radar system was likely not what the Chen administration had in mind when the referendum questions were selected. As discussed in chapter 3, the Cabinet had been urging legislative approval to purchase the special weapons package offered by the United States in 2001, but charges that the weapons were dated and the price inflated had made the legislature reluctant to approve the budget. Some critics believed the Chen administration had been pushing the deal as a way of buying acquiescence on the referendum and other issues, while the United States had kept up pressure on the administration to get the budget approved by urging Taiwan to take its defense seriously and suggesting that the

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delay would lead Washington to think that Taipei was not willing to protect itself, and instead relying on U.S. intervention in case of cross-strait conflict. On June 2, the Cabinet passed a new special budget (to be funded by the sale of national land, government-owned shares, and by issuing government bonds) for the weapons package totaling NT$610.8 billion (US$18 billion) to be spread over the next 15 years. The budget called for the procurement of eight diesel electric submarines, a modified version of Patriot antimissile systems (Patriot Advanced-Capability 3 missile defenses), and 12 P-3C Orion antisubmarine aircraft. These major purchases were listed as a special project to keep the regular government budget within the limit for government borrowing, and to avoid squeezing the purchases of other regular weaponry. Aside from the political reason of wanting to thwart President Chen and the DPP in any achievements ahead of the legislative elections, there were three main arguments against the proposed budget. These arguments were presented by pan-blue lawmakers, a coalition of civic groups, and a number of DPP lawmakers. First, while not opposed to legitimate defense expenditures, some questioned the price, especially the NT$412 billion (US$12 billion) for the eight submarines. They suggested, “It sounds a bit like we’re buying insurance, like we’re paying protection money [to the United States],”19 and speculated such spending would do more to help the U.S. arms industry than it would to meet Taiwan’s defense needs.20 A second aspect of the “too expensive” argument was that the money could be better used elsewhere, and that as the weapons would take up to 15 years to deliver, they would not arrive in time to make a difference. Some believed the money would be better spent on offensive weapons to strike back at China’s coastal areas, arguing that offensive weapons were more cost-efficient and that only the threat of mutually assured destruction could deter attacks. A number of civic leaders, such as Lin Shen-jing, director of the Democracy Action Alliance, believed that high military spending would “force the government to cut social welfare and education budgets, which will also threaten the island’s stability.”21 During the summer and fall of 2004, this particular argument was buttressed with a number of organized protests and rallies ranging in size from a few-dozen to over tenthousand people. The second argument was that by purchasing this weapons package in addition to its ordinary defense spending, Taiwan was entering the slippery slope of an arms race it could not possibly hope to win, which would ultimately either bankrupt Taiwan or lead to its destruction.


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Supporters of this argument believe Taiwan can not afford an arms race with the world’s largest military establishment and a rising economic power, and point to the collapse of the former Soviet Union as evidence that even the world’s second–most powerful nation could not survive an arms race with a wealthier country. Some also suggested that an arms race would turn Taiwan “into Asia’s Israel militarily at the cost of becoming like Cuba economically.”22 The third criticism is that weapons are simply the wrong solution to the problem of tension with China; new military hardware will not make Taiwan more secure. The probability of Taiwan being attacked is contingent on the level of tension across the Taiwan Strait, not on the amount of Taiwan’s defensive weaponry. Based on this reasoning, the only effective way to avoid war is to engage in meaningful dialogue with China. Some critics charged that in fact, purchasing more U.S. arms leads to improved U.S. ties and protection and more room to proceed with the agenda of an independent Taiwan, which only heightens risk of war. Thus, with the purchase of additional U.S. weapons, war in the strait will become inevitable. Arguments countering these objections have been as follows: First, while China’s defense budget has doubled over the past decade, with double-digit increases in the budget for 13 consecutive years making it third in defense spending, after the United States and Russia, Taiwan’s has declined every year for the past decade, dropping from 3.5 percent of the nation’s GDP in 1995 to 2.5 percent in 2004.23 Under the proposed budget, Taiwan’s annual defense spending would account for 2.85 percent of GDP. Defending the cost, administration officials said that defense expenditures as a percentage of the central government’s overall budget would move from 16.59 in 2004 to 18.82 in 2005, as compared to 24.3 percent in 1994, and would not strain the nation’s finances, or squeeze funding for other concerns.24 The defense ministry released a poster to help give people a better understanding of the costs, saying the budget would be equivalent to the sum saved if all Taiwanese people gave up drinking one cup of bubble tea each week (US$0.7) for five years. Second, proponents emphasized the program was not aimed at building a military force surpassing China’s, but a force able to deter China. According to the Defense Department’s “Annual Report on the Military Power of the PRC,” China was increasing its spending so as to expand its military options to deter moves by Taiwan toward independence, or force unification of Taiwan with China, as well as to be able to “deter or defeat foreign intervention ahead of Taiwan’s capitulation or defeat.”25

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The need for deterrence is highlighted with projections about the necessity and effectiveness of the proposed package in doing the job. For example, the vice defense minister warned that the People’s Liberation Army of China is likely to conduct small-scale or partial attacks in 2006 or 2008 when China acquires air and naval superiority, and the defense minister suggested that “if the arms purchase package goes as planned, the advantage Taiwan currently holds over the mainland in military strength will persist for 30 years and there will be no risk of a war during this period.”26 They back up this argument with the idea that only strength can ensure peace, and cite Switzerland as an example, which allots 10 percent of its annual budget for defense, because it “doesn’t want to meet the same fate of another neutral state, Belgium, which was conquered twice in the 20th century by Germany because of its inability to defend itself.”27 In late September, after Taiwan successfully test fired surface-tosurface missiles that could be programmed to hit coastal Chinese cities, it seemed Taiwan was indeed set on adding offensive capabilities to its arsenal. There was a rumor that the United States had agreed to help Taiwan in this regard by selling Taiwan high-speed radiation missiles, which can suppress enemy defense radar. President Chen’s remark, “Pure self-defense measures are not enough in responding to this current situation . . . .If China attacks, we will not rule out striking back at the enemy,” fueled the speculation,28 as did Premier Yu’s remark: To maintain Taiwan’s security, we have to maintain a balance of terror like the Cold War . . . . You [China] have the power to destroy me, Taiwan also has the power to counter-attack. If you strike me with 100 missiles, I at least will return you with 50 . . . . You attack Taipei and Kaohsiung, and I’ll attack Shanghai. That makes Taiwan safe.29

Arms and Identity To examine the question of arms procurement simply in terms of the main arguments just presented is to miss the core issue of the debate. In fact, it is unlikely any consensus between the two sides could be reached simply by debating the effectiveness and price of the weapons. A key to the discussion is national identification and how people answer the question of uniting with or dividing from China. In other words, a key aspect of the debate is Taiwanese versus Chinese consciousness, which is not something that can be rationally debated. It is


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something that leads each side to doubt and mistrust the other. The result is simply that the issue becomes a pawn in the power struggle between the two sides. One point adding credence to this perspective is that it was the KMT who initiated the proposal for a special arms procurement package from the United States in the first place. They requested the submarines in 1995, the antisubmarine aircraft in 1997, and the Patriot antimissile systems in 1998. Lien Chan himself lobbied for these arms purchases as premier between 1993 and 1997. As yet, Lien Chan has provided no explanation for this apparent change of heart. Along these lines, in September 2004 over 150 retired military officers signed a petition opposing the arms procurement budget. Many of these same people participated in the arms procurement project as government policy-making members of the KMT in the mid- to late 1990s. It is likely these retired generals spoke out against the purchase not simply out of a desire to thwart the Chen administration or out of loyalty to their party, but because of the role they believe the weapons would play in buttressing Taiwan’s move toward de jure independence. That is, they now disapprove of the arms package because they believe strengthening Taiwan’s defenses in the current context is a step toward building a new nation, and that President Chen is especially insistent on building up Taiwan’s self-defense capability at this moment so that he can proceed with amending the constitution. Building a new nation is not part of Chinese consciousness, and they therefore can not support it. The issue of procurement is bound up in the issue of identity. Premier Yu’s comment with regard to a petition opposing the arms purchase signed by 11 Academia Sinica fellows, which described “a social crisis in the sense of community,” also demonstrates the intertwining of the issues. Premier Yu said he suspected that the academics had “problems in terms of ideology and national identity”; he highlighted the scholars’ identity as playing a role in their convictions with regard to the weapons purchase.30 The “love Taiwan” theme even emerged as part of the discourse on arms procurement. In an effort to gain public support for the weapons purchase, the defense ministry used a comic strip to promote the theme “love Taiwan, protect our home,” while a number of associated civic groups organized a rally of several-thousand people in Taipei in late September 2004 entitled “Love Taiwan, oppose the arms-deal.” Although the rally’s conveners proclaimed they intended that the protest not be affiliated with any specific political parties, many PFP and

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NP candidates for the year-end legislative elections attended the protest, and anti-DPP rhetoric was prominent in the speeches made before the crowds. When the rally was repeated a month later in the southern city of Kaohsiung, pan-green supporters shouted at rally participants: “Chinese communists go back [to China]. Don’t live in Taiwan and bully the Taiwanese.”31 They also burned China’s national flag. Clearly the topic of arms procurement is not just about budgets. Furthermore, although the rally organizers had proclaimed their goal to provide an independent voice to help focus on this vital issue and ensure real dialogue on the best path for Taiwan’s future, it is clear that political affiliations played some role in their tactics. Had their true concern been sending a clear message to the government and the world that Taiwanese people do not want to get involved in an arms race, the best possible way they could have had to get that message across would have been to lobby people to vote “no” on the referendum question exactly addressing the question of whether to purchase more arms. Nobody made this argument in connection with the referendum. When it came to actually discussing the proposed budget in the legislature, things did not go well. Although, for the most part, KMT legislators seemed to keep a low profile on the issue, PFP and some independent legislators were quite vocal in opposing it. Legislators threw their takeout lunch boxes at each other, and at a later committee meeting a PFP legislator and a DPP legislator came to blows over the issue, further raising tensions. Talks surrounding the deal broke down again with the two sides trading insults and throwing booklets at each other, culminating with angry DPP legislators walking out of the meeting in protest of the opposition’s refusal to allow the special arms budget to be reviewed. In early November, opposition lawmakers blocked the proposal from being included in the legislature’s pre-election schedule. Richard Lawless, a deputy undersecretary at the U.S. Defense Department, ominously warned “If the budget failed to pass, or if a decision was made not to pass the budget, it will have repercussions for the United States, will have repercussions for Taiwan’s friends,”32 and that a lack of desire to beef up the island’s defense capability would cause friends and foes alike to consider Taiwan a “liability rather than a partner.”33

The Legislative Campaign With the tumult in the legislature, test-firing of offensive weapons, and warnings of increased isolation from a close ally, one might have


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expected the 6108 question would be a key issue in the December 11 legislative election. However, although it did enter into the discourse, and featured in campaign ads (at least one PFP legislator ran on the slogan “Oppose the 6108 weapons purchase”), it was not a key issue in the final weeks of the campaign. Instead, Chen Shui-bian was again able to control the campaign discourse and keep the pan-blue alliance in a defensive position by highlighting topics related to strengthening Taiwanese consciousness. Chen talked about the abortive soft coup to remind people of the chaos after the presidential election, and highlighted the KMT’s continued confusion of party and state by pointing out that the KMT’s party emblem is nearly identical to the ROC’s national symbol, which appears on the flag and on the badges of the navy, the army, the air force, and the police. He demanded the KMT voluntarily change its emblem or else he would try to amend the National Emblem Law to force the party to make the change, explaining, “Only by doing so can we clearly distinguish between the two emblems, and the KMT won’t say things like ‘the nation is stolen’ just because it lost the election.”34 Chen also talked about abolishing “Taiwan Province,” (a level of government existing between the Cabinet, and city and county government that has already been reduced to limited functions), changing the name of Taiwan’s diplomatic missions from “Taipei” to “Taiwan,” and reforming or replacing the constitution. Why did Chen Shui-bian revert to this strategy? An official in charge of the DPP’s internal surveys admitted, “According to an internal DPP survey, the pan-green camp will have difficulties winning a majority of seats in the legislature. So Chen has been working hard to stir up the passions of supporters, as well as to sway swing voters and those who tend to support independent candidates.”35 In other words, President Chen was reverting to a theme that he knew had growing mainstream support: Taiwanese consciousness, which remained a powerful tool for uniting his core support, although it retained the downside of being socially divisive. Chen appeared to be successful inasmuch as the pan-blues remained on the defensive. Not only did they have no policy proposals to offer, they also lacked a coherent strategy to compete with the DPP, as well as a united campaign structure. The pan-blue alliance seemed incapable of creating issues of its own and so was left with their accumulated complaints from the presidential election. As discussed in chapter 10, the KMT selected the campaign theme of “countering the chaos caused by President Chen Shui-bian” to persuade voters that a blue majority was needed in the legislature to control or balance the greens.

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However, not all pan-blue candidates were on board with this campaign theme. Some candidates, especially in the south of Taiwan, preferred to distance themselves from their own parties and ran more as independent candidates than as KMT or PFP candidates. For example, KMT Legislator Lee Chuan-chiao from Tainan, a former KMT legislative caucus whip, did not use the party emblem at all in his campaign brochure or advertisements. Many also avoided emphasizing issues such as the shooting or the arms budget, recognizing that grassroots voters cared not about political disputes, but about what the candidate could contribute to local development. As Legislator Lee said, “If a candidate wants to talk about the political disputes with my constituents, the constituents would tell him to shut up and ask him what he has done and what he will do for the constituency.”36 In the end, it seems the KMT’s retention of a traditional mindset, which was somewhat of a weakness in the presidential campaign, became a strength in the legislative campaign. The ability to work personal connections and deliver benefits to constituents, something the KMT has been very good at, paid off in the election. Although the DPP increased its share of the vote from 33.38 percent in the 2001 legislative elections to 35.72 percent, gained two seats in the legislature, and retained its status as the largest party, the result was widely seen as a failure inasmuch as the DPP’s high hopes for a legislative majority were not achieved. The KMT were seen as the big winners of the night, picking up 11 seats, while the PFP were the big losers, dropping 12 seats. James Soong’s analysis was, “Because of our unconditional support for the KMT, we have lost our identity and almost became a marginal party.”37 He closed the door on the merger and even cast doubt on the future of the alliance: “My feeling is our cooperation is like drinking icy water in chilly weather.”38 In the following weeks the PFP even began to show signs it was now willing to consider cooperating with the DPP in passing legislation aimed at investigation of the KMT’s assets, and the DPP proposed that Soong be made the head of a cross-strait peace committee.

C hapter 12

Let O ne-Hundred F lowers B loom

It is best to win without fighting. Sun-tzu, The Art of War

Some foreign (including Chinese) observers declared the legislative

election results a rejection of Taiwan’s independence because the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) did not make the expected gains. That is, they interpreted the results in terms of national identity. Is this a reasonable interpretation? Several points suggest otherwise. First, the DPP did in fact make a small gain (and overall the DPP was the only party to garner more votes than in the previous legislative election), while the big losers of the night were the People First Party (PFP). If any platform was rejected it would seem to be the anti-independence one of the PFP. Second, local observers suggest that the legislative elections turn more on matters of direct benefits to constituents than on national policy, so the national identity issue was not necessarily a key factor in voting. And finally, what Taiwan’s people see as the proper way of resolving the issue of Taiwan’s statehood is related to their beliefs about democracy and personal identity. Despite conflicting ideas about the sovereignty of the ROC, both sides tend to see the people of Taiwan as the legitimate decision makers regarding the future of Taiwan. Both sides agree that democracy is Taiwan’s greatest asset. Support for the idea of using a referendum to solve critical national issues is also growing. Furthermore, the majority on both sides seem to support a gradualist approach. That is, since Taiwan has de facto recognition, there is less urgency to formally declare independence. Polls have consistently reflected the pragmatism of Taiwan’s people in supporting the status quo; there is little will to challenge Beijing and risk Taiwan’s current rights and freedoms. At the same time, even those who support unification must recognize

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that the great differences between Taiwan and China in terms of economics and politics make a speedy reunification unfeasible, especially since most identify with the Chinese people and not the Communist regime. It seems unlikely that many in Taiwan, whatever their ideas about national identity, would want to surrender their democratic rights or economic freedoms. At the same time, Taiwanese consciousness continues to develop because of the pull from the greens, who have cultivated a support base in terms of ethnic identity, as well as the push from China, the harsh words of which consolidate a sense of Taiwanese national identity and increase pressure on the KMT to Taiwanize itself in terms of ideology and power structure. Even the actions of the pan-blues have served to keep the pan-greens unified in maintaining the importance of support for Taiwanese consciousness. At this point, it is clear that Taiwanese consciousness has been bound up with democratic progress in such a way that it now stands in opposition to Chinese consciousness. Furthermore, in an ironic twist, consolidation of Taiwanese identity is being achieved by turning away from some Confucian cultural traditions and embracing some nonindigenous concepts embedded in democratic rule-of-law thinking. Taiwan’s politics, both on a national level and within the pan-blue camp, are in the end not simply a clash of visions for the future of Taiwan, not simply a clash of politicians in a struggle for power, but a clash of values. Critics have made some serious accusations against President Chen Shui-bian. They fear that as a result of bestowing public offices on those who have best served the party, excluding those with different points of view, and distributing national awards on the basis of party loyalty, a system of political correctness has been established in the Chen administration in which people cannot freely express ideas. Critics suspect that there is no one close to President Chen who can challenge him or question his decisions. They also feel Chen has used populist talk about democracy and human rights and love of Taiwan to create an aura of political correctness around the idea of holding referendums and revising the constitution. Thus, these ideas have become impossible for opposition party members to challenge without garnering accusations of being traitors to Taiwan. This perception, that Chen Shui-bian has been able to surround himself with “yes men” and exploit his position of power in government through populist means to spread an aura of political correctness over the ideology that most benefits himself, has led some to label him “an untouchable dictator.”

L et One-Hundred F lowers B loom

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Some of Chen Shui-bian’s critics have even questioned his commitment to a democratic and independent Taiwan, and believe he has not allowed his grassroots supporters a voice in government policy. Instead, they charge, he has merely appropriated Lee Teng-hui’s vision for Taiwan and buttressed it with talk of democratic ideals and human rights (neither of which are indigenous concepts) to ride the rising tide of Taiwanese consciousness to power. To them, the DPP’s disappointing results in the December legislative elections prove that President Chen’s decision to continue to push themes relating to Taiwanese consciousness was part of his policy of imposing Taiwanization on the people of Taiwan and not a representation of the will of the people. There is concern that a lack of a truly free debate (ironically in the name of democracy and human rights) is stifling alternative voices and limiting Taiwan’s options. Certainly now is a time when Taiwan needs to be able to consider all of its options. China’s threats seem only to grow more alarming. For example, in July 2005, Chinese Major General Zhu Chenghu, dean of the Defense Affairs Institute of the National Defense University, said that Beijing would consider responding with nuclear weapons if the United States militarily interfered in the Taiwan issue, a threat that concerns not only Taiwan, but the international community. From the analysis presented in this book it is clear that while the pan-blues may have some legitimate complaints, they themselves appear to be guilty of many of the things they criticize, but more important, they have done little in the way of offering substantive alternatives to the pan-green agenda. They have concentrated on personal attacks on Chen Shui-bian rather than debating his ideology or goals. They have criticized his methods, but have offered little in the way of options, particularly with regard to possible relationships with China. Furthermore, at times it seems difficult for pan-blue leaders to focus on issues instead of emotional aspects of the identity question. In a press conference with foreign correspondents in Taipei, Lien Chan characterized the KMT as “an indigenous political party . . . . It has its traditions, but it is the most indigenous. When it was fighting for Taiwan, the so-called indigenous parties you see today were nowhere.”1 When surprised correspondents asked if he was referring to the martial-law era when the KMT had forbidden opposition parties, he sidestepped the question, responding, “You can’t use categories that will drive a wedge so that this is an indigenous party and this is alien.”2 There is no denying that the Taiwanese people have a unique spirit. The Chinese immigrants who arrived in Taiwan hundreds of years ago

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came because they were not afraid to take the risk of moving for the chance of economic prosperity or political freedom. They were merchants and refugees and pirates and antigovernment intellectuals escaping economic hardship or government purges, looking to make a better life and willing to take a chance in moving “beyond the pale of Chinese civilization.” Taiwanese society is now a blend of Confucian tradition and modern values and ideas, which may influence decision-making and leadership styles in ways that are unpredictable to most outsiders. Although in many ways this book has barely scratched the surface in examining politics in Taiwan as entire volumes could be written evaluating the validity of the pan-blues claims or conflict within the DPP, it has provided a broad sociocultural analysis of the political perceptions of Taiwan’s people to enhance understanding of Taiwan’s political arena and provide an added dimension for consideration of democracy and Taiwanese consciousness. The book’s analysis has focused on the pan-blues since for outsiders it may seem particularly hard to understand the individuals and groups that on one hand claim to support Taiwan’s democracy, and on the other hand attempt to create investigative bodies outside the legal system. Increased understanding can only lead to increased options.

Appendix 1

Names Alex Tsai Annette Lu Chang Chao-hsiung Chang Cheng-hsiung Chang Ching-sen Chang Chun-hsiung Chang Hui-mei (A-mei) Chen Che-nan Chen Ding-nan Chen Shui-bian Chen Yu-hao Chiang Ching-kuo Chiang Hsia Chiang Hsia Chiang Kai-shek Chiou I-jen Chiu Yi Daniel Huang Frank Hsieh Frederick Chien George Huang Henry Lee Hou You-yi Hsu Hsin-liang Hu Jintao James Soong Jaw Shaw-kong Jiang Zemin Julien Kuo Lee Chuan-chiao Lee Teng-hui

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Lee Yuan-tseh Li Ao Liao Cheng-hao Lien Chan Lin Chia-lung Lo Chi-ming Ma Ying-jeou May Chin Peng Ming-min Shen Fu-hsiung Sisy Chen Su Tseng-chang Tsai Ying-wen Twu Shiing-jer Vincent Siew Wang Jin-pyng Wen Jiabao Wu Shu-chen Yang Ssu-piao Yeh Yao-peng Yu-fu Zhu Rongji

A ppendix 1

Appendix 2

Abbreviations AIT CAL CEC CIB DAA DPP Election Law Emblem Law GIO IPR IRIE KMT MAC NP PFP PLA PRC ROC SARS Truth committee TSU WHA WHO

American Institute in Taiwan China Airlines Central Election Commission Criminal Investigation Bureau Democratic Action Alliance Democratic Progressive Party Presidential and Vice Presidential Election and Recall Law National Emblem Law Government Information Office intellectual property rights Initiative and Referendum Institute Europe Kuomintang, Chinese Nationalist Party Mainland Affairs Council New Party People First Party People’s Liberation Army People’s Republic of China Republic of China severe acute respiratory syndrome March 19 Shooting Truth Investigation Special Committee Statute Taiwan Solidarity Union World Health Assembly World Health Organization


Notes

Chapter 1 Identity, Democracy, Populism, and Nationalism 1. Denny Roy, Taiwan: A Political History (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003), 33. 2. April Lin and Jerome Keating, Island in the Stream: A Quick Case Study of Taiwan’s Complex History (Taipei: SMC Publishing, 2000), 9. 3. John Willis, Jr., Embassies and Illusions: Dutch and Portuguese Envoys to K’ang-his, 1666–1687 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Council on East Asian Studies, 1984), 151. 4. Trong-rung Chai, “The Future of Taiwan,” Asian Survey 26 (1986): 1313. 5. George Kerr, Formosa Betrayed (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1965), 4. 6. Roy, Taiwan, 29. 7. Roy, Taiwan, 13. 8. John Copper, Taiwan: Nation State or Province? (Boulder, CO: Westview, 1996), 30. 9. Roy, Taiwan, 41. 10. Wang Yude, The suffering history of Taiwan [in Chinese] (Taipei: Qianwei, 1999), 129, as referenced in Mau-kui Chang, “On the Origins and Transformation of Taiwanese National Identity,” in Religion and the Formation of Taiwanese Identities, ed. P. Katz and M. Rubinstein (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2001), 23–58. 11. The remaining 2 percent is comprised of aborigine groups and others who have obtained citizenship usually through marriage. 12. Caroline Hong, “Chen proposes two new referendums,” Taipei Times, April 12, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2004/04/12/2003136335. 13. Roy, Taiwan, 59. 14. Robert Edmundson, “The February 28 Incident and National Identity,” Memories of the Future: National Identity Issues and the Search for a New Taiwan, ed. Stephane Corcuff (New York: M.E. Sharpe, 2003), 25–46. 15. Shelley Rigger, Politics in Taiwan: Voting for Democracy (New York: Routledge, 1999), 34. 16. Ibid. 17. Ibid.

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N otes

18. Gary Davison, A Short History of Taiwan: A Case for Independence (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003), 78. 19. Directorate-General of Budget, Accounting, and Statistics, Executive Yuan, ROC, “Figures of Interest” Statistical Table. DGBAS, http:// eng.stat.gov.tw/public/Data/581817145071.xls. 20. Taiwan Think-tank, “Bush’s election and Taiwanese expectations,” poll commissioned by Taiwan Thinktank and conducted by Focus Survey Research on November 3–4, 2004. 21. “Forensic expert Lee arrives in Taipei today,” China Post, April 9, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/detail.asp?ID⫽ 47670&GR⫽A.

Chapter 2 Taiwanese Consciousness and the Referendum Law 1. Taipei Economic and Cultural Office, “Taiwan Stands Up: Toward the Dawn of a Rising Era,” Chen Shui-bian’s May 20, 2000 inaugural address, TECO New York, http://www.taipei.org/chen/chen0520.htm. 2. Presidential Office Taiwan, “President Chen’s Cross-century Remarks,” Presidential Office, December 31, 2000, http://www.president.gov.tw/ php-bin/prez/showenews.php4. 3. Ibid. 4. Ibid. 5. Lin Chieh-yu, “Taiwan may go ‘own way’: Chen,” Taipei Times, July 22, 2002, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2002/07/ 22/149218. 6. Lin Mei-ling, “Chen Shui-bian becomes the DPP chairman: Taiwan’s takes its own path” [in Chinese], United Daily News, July 22, 2002, http:/udndata.com/. 7. Presidential Office Taiwan, “President Chen’s Opening Address of the 29th Annual Meeting of the World Federation of Taiwanese Associations,” Presidential Office, August 3, 2002, http://www.president. gov.tw/php-bin/prez/showenews.php4. 8. “Chen: Unification is not the only option” [in Chinese], United Daily News, September 3, 2000, http://udndata.com/. 9. Presidential Office Taiwan, “President Chen’s Cross-century Remarks,” Presidential Office, December 31, 2000, http://www.president.gov.tw/ php-bin/prez/showenews.php4. 10. Ching Cheong, Will Taiwan Break Away? The Rise of Taiwanese Nationalism (Singapore: World Scientific, 2001), 7. 11. Lee was accused of purposely splitting the 2000 vote by running Lien instead of Soong as the KMT presidential candidate. Soong was subsequently expelled from the KMT for launching his own independent presidential campaign. Popular protests led Lee to resign as KMT chairman shortly after the election defeat, and he was expelled from the KMT in December of 2000.

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12. Sandy Huang, “Pan-blue camp pans Chen’s talk,” Taipei Times, August 5, 2002, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/2002/ 08/05/159038. 13. Lin Miao-Jung, “Chen reckless: opposition,” Taipei Times, August 4, 2002, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2002/ 08/04/158914. 14. U.S. State Department, National Security Council briefing for foreign media, US State Department, August 7, 2002, http://fpc.state.gov/ fpc/12521.htm. 15. Luo Ru-lan and Zhang Shu-min, “Lien criticizes Chen: What country do you want to be ruler of?” [in Chinese], China Times, December 22, 2003, http://kmw.ctgin.com/. 16. Chen Min-feng and Zhou Ying-cheng, “Chen Shui-bian: The ROC is Taiwan” [in Chinese], United Daily News, December 22, 2003, http://udndata.com/. 17. Benjamin Kang Lim and Scott Hillis, “China silent as Taiwan plays down independence talk,” Reuters, August 4, 2002, http://taiwansecurity. org/ Reu/2002/Reuters-080402.htm. 18. Willy Wo-Lap Lam, “Plain sailing in the Taiwan Strait?” CNN.com, August 20, 2002, http://edition.cnn.com/2002/WORLD/asiapcf/ east/08/19/willy.column/. 19. Ibid. 20. Ibid. 21. Craig S. Smith, “China issues new warning to Taiwan, just in English,” New York Times, August 8, 2002, http://taiwansecurity.org/NYT/ 2002/NYT-080802.htm. 22. Liu Kuan-the, “Let’s make room for a referendum on the WHO,” Taipei Times, May 25, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/ archives/2003/05/25/2003052592. 23. Chang Yun-ping, “Chen pushes for WHO referendum,” Taipei Times, May 21, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/ 2003/05/21/2003051988. 24. The Constitution of the Republic of China, Chapter XII, Article 136, December 25, 1946. 25. Ko Shu-ling, “Executive Yuan pushes for referendum,” Taipei Times, May 22, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2003/05/22/2003052087. 26. “Opposition members vow to fight referendum bill,” China Post, May 30, 2003, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/ detail.asp?ID⫽38058&GRP⫽B.

Chapter 3 The Referendum and Taiwan’s International Relations 1. “China blamed for referendum crisis,” China Post, June 26, 2003, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp?cat⫽1&id⫽38819.

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2. U.S. State Department, Daily press briefing with Deputy Spokesperson Philip Reeker, US consulate in Hong Kong, June 23, 2003, http://hongkong.usconsulate.gov/uscn/state/db/2003/0623.htm. 3. Chang Yun-Ping, “Parties tell US to keep nose out of domestic affairs,” Taipei Times, June 22, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2003/06/22/2003056265. 4. Lin Chieh-yu, “Lu stands by Chen, tells US to back off over referendums,” Taipei Times, June 26, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2003/06/26/2003056774. 5. Charles Snyder, “Referendum at top of agenda for delegation to US,” Taipei Times, July 26, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2003/07/26/2003060979. 6. The USTR acknowledged the improvement in Taiwan’s record and scheduled an out-of-cycle review for the end of 2004. 7. Joy Su, “China Airlines reacts to complaints about deal,” Taipei Times, August 23, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2003/08/23/2003064900. 8. Mainland Affairs Council, “Assessment of the Impact of Direct Cross-Strait Transportation (Aug 2003),” Mainland Policy Documents, Cross-Strait Assessment, MAC, http://www.mac.gov.tw/english/ index1-e.htm. 9. Rick Chu and Roger Liu, “Direct links by the end of 2004’: Chen,” Taipei Times, Aug 14, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ front/archives/2003/08/14/2003063654. 10. Fiona Lu, “KMT blasts Chen’s pledge on transportation links,” Taipei Times, August 15, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2003/08/15/2003063790. 11. Chang Yun-Ping and Huang Tai-lin, “President makes DPP birthday pledge,” Taipei Times, September 29, 2003, http://www. taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/2003/09/29/2003069686. 12. U.S. State Department, Noon briefing with Richard Boucher, US consulate in Hong Kong, September 29, 2003, http://hongkong.usconsulate. gov/uscn/state/db/2003/0929.htm. 13. Charles Snyder, “Tsai Ing-wen gets chilly reception in US,” Taipei Times, November 15, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2003/11/15/2003075917. 14. “Chen mum on details of ‘new constitution,’ ” China Post, September 30, 2003, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/detail.asp?ID⫽ 41728&GRP⫽A; Taiwan Central News Agency, “DPP officials speak out to defend Chen’s proposal,” Taipei Times, September 30, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2003/09/30/ 2003069838. 15. Lin Chieh-yu and Jimmy Chuang, “Lien trumpets KMT constitutional plan,” Taipei Times, November 16, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/front/archives/2003/11/16/2003076025.

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16. Taiwan Affairs Office of the State Council, “Taiwan Affairs Office tells Taiwan to stop its splittist activities with the referendum law” [in Chinese], Taiwan Affairs Office, November 17, 2003, http://www.gwytb.gov.cn:82/gzyw/gzyw1.asp?offset⫽500&gzyw_m_ id⫽222; “Chen Shui-bian warned not to fuel separatism,” People’s Daily, November 17, 2003, Taiwan Security Research, http://taiwansecurity. org/News/2003/PD-181103.htm. 17. “Chen Shui-bian warned,” People’s Daily. 18. “Independence stance may trigger war,” China Daily, November 19, 2003, http://www.china.org.cn/english/China/80396.htm. 19. “Taiwan’s KMT alters tack on vote,” BBC News, November 23, 2003, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/3240026.stm. 20. Reuters, “ ‘Irrational’ China should mind its own business: Tsai,” Taipei Times, November 21, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2003/11/21/2003076669. 21. Mainland Affairs Council, Press briefing with Chen Ming-tong, MAC, November 28, 2003, http://www.mac.gov.tw/english/index1-e.htm.

Chapter 4

The Defensive Referendum

1. U.S. State Department, Daily press briefing with Richard Boucher, US State Department, December 1, 2003, http://www.state.gov/r/pa/ prs/dpb/2003/26776.htm. 2. “Taiwan leader is to blame if war breaks out,” China Daily HK Edition, December 3, 2003, http://service.china.org.cn/link/wcm/Show_ Text?info_id⫽81438&p. 3. White House Office of the Press Secretary, “President Bush and Premier Wen Jiabao Remarks to the Press,” White House, December 9, 2003, http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2003/12/200312092.html. 4. “Mr. Bush’s Kowtow to China,” Editorial, Washington Post, December 10, 2003, http://www.taiwandc.org/wp-2003-10.htm. 5. Charles Snyder, “Bush’s comments on referendums draw mixed reaction in Washington,” Taipei Times, December 11, 2003, http:// www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2003/12/11/ 2003079131. 6. Central News Agency, “Bush failed Taiwan: Lieberman,” Taipei Times, January 8, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2004/01/08/2003086763. 7. Lin Chieh-yu and Charles Snyder, “Chen still defiant after Bush rebuke,” Taipei Times, December 11, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/front/archives/2003/12/11/2003079111. 8. Melody Chen, “Lien cautious on Bush’s remarks,” Taipei Times, December 11, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2003/12/11/2003079129.

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Notes

9. U.S. Department of State, “Secretary Powell’s Press Conference,” US State Department, January 8, 2004, http://www.state.gov/secretary/ former/powell/remarks/28008.htm. 10. Sun Yang-ming, “Interview with Harry Harding” [in Chinese], United Daily News, January 8, 2004, http:// www.udndata.com/. 11. U.S. State Department, Daily press briefing with Deputy Spokesperson Adam Ereli, US State Department, December 31, 2003, http:// www.state.gov/r/pa/prs/dpb/2003/27640.htm. 12. Melody Chen, “US will never understand referendum, academic says,” Taipei Times, January 8, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/01/08/2003086781. 13. U.S. State Department, Daily press briefing with Deputy Spokesperson Adam Ereli, US State Department, January 2, 2004, http:// www.state.gov/r/pa/prs/dpb/2004/27654.htm. 14. Cody Yiu, “Referendum Delegation postpones trip,” Taipei Times, January 10, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/ archives/2004/01/10/2003087020. 15. “Vice President Lu announces new name for referendum,” China Post, January 11, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/ detail.asp?ID⫽44924&GRP⫽B. 16. Office of the President of the Republic of China, “President Chen’s Televised Statement of the Peace Referendum on March 20,” Presidential Office, January 16, 2004, http://www.president.gov.tw/ php-bin/prez/showenews.php4. 17. Office of the President of the Republic of China, “Writing History with Democracy and Defending Taiwan with Referendum,” President Chen’s press conference, Presidential Office, February 3, 2004, http://www.president.gov.tw/php-bin/prez/showenews.php4. 18. Ibid. 19. White House Office of the Press Secretary, Press briefing by Scott McClellan, White House, January 16, 2004, http:// www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2004/01/20040116-14.html. 20. Huang Tai-lin, “Opposition calls referendum ‘illegal, a joke,’ ” Taipei Times, January 18, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ front/archives/2004/01/18/2003091791. 21. Ibid. 22. “Defense chief confirms anti-missile defense plan,” Taipei Times, February 19, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/ archives/2004/02/19/2003099280. 23. “Taiwan’s ‘referendum’ a unilateral provocation,” Xinhua News Agency, January 18, 2004, http://www.china.org.cn/english/2004/Jan/ 85030.htm. 24. “CMC Chairman Jiang’s reunification speech anniversary marked,” People’s Daily, January 20, 2004, http://english.peopledaily.com.cn/ other/archive.html.

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25. “MAC regrets Beijing gov’t interpretation of referendum,” China Post, January 20, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ detail.asp?ID⫽45195&GRP⫽A. 26. Ibid. 27. C.W. Braddick, “Taiwan’s First Referendum: Democratic Milestone or Diplomatic Millstone?” Parliamentary Library of Australia, Research Note no. 37 2003–04, March 1, 2004, http://www.aph.gov.au/ library/pubs/rn/2003-04/04rn37.htm. 28. Ibid. 29. Lin Chieh-yu, “The winding path to a referendum,” Taipei Times, March 16, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/ 03/16/2003102643.

Chapter 5

The Referendum Debates

1. The debates were also webcast on HiNet’s hiChannel, see [in Chinese] http://times.hinet.net/expertnews/tvshow/930227-hichannel.htm. 2. Ko Shu-ling, “Premier Yu ready to approve team for referendum debate,” Taipei Times, February 16, 2004, http:// www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/02/16/2003098956. 3. Ibid. 4. Summary and quotations from this debate are derived from the following sources plus the authors’ personal notes made while watching the debates: “Strengthening national defense: Referendum debate, Lin Chia-lung vs. May Chin” [in Chinese], Liberty Times, March 1, 2004, http://www.libertytimes.com.tw/2004/new/mar/1/today-p7.htm; Xiao Ju-cen, “The first referendum debate” [in Chinese], China Times, March 1, 2004, http:// kmw.ctgin.com/; Ko Shu-ling, “Debate focuses on missile sentiments,” Taipei Times, March 1, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/2004/03/01/ 2003100679. 5. Summary and quotations from this debate are derived from the following sources plus the authors’ personal notes made while watching the debates: “Negotiation referendum debate: Frank Hsieh vs. Li Ao” [in Chinese], Liberty Times, March 1, 2004, http:// www.libertytimes.com.tw/2004/new/mar/1/today-p8.htm; “320 Referendum debate—Li Ao vs. Frank Hsieh” [in Chinese], debate transcript on Li Ao fan webiste, http://home.kimo.com.tw/wooops77/; Jewel Huang, “Referendum has become Taiwan’s destiny: Hsieh,” Taipei Times, Monday, March 01, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/front/archives/2004/03/01/2003100680. 6. Qiu Chuizhen, Qiu Chuizhen went to jail for singing [in Chinese] (Taoyuan, Taiwan: Dazao yuawenhua, n.d.). 7. Summary and quotations from this debate are derived from the following source plus the authors’ personal notes made while watching the

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9.

10.

11. 12.

13.

14. 15.

16.

17. 18.

19. 20.

21.

N otes debates: “Third referendum debate/strengthening national defense: Lo Chih-ming vs. Yeh Yao-peng” [in Chinese], China Times, March 8, 2004, http://www.ctgin.com/. Summary and quotations from this debate are derived from the following sources plus the authors’ personal notes made while watching the debates: Guo Zheng-liang, “Referendum debate—strengthening national defense” [in Chinese], epolitics.com.tw, http:// www.epolitics.com.tw; Debby Wu, “Public’s role in defense policy heats up debate,” Taipei Times, March 15, 2004, http:// www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/03/15/ 2003102539. Summary and quotations from this debate are derived from the following source plus the authors’ personal notes made while watching the debates: Xu Xiao-ci, “The last referendum debate/Equal negotiation” [in Chinese], China Times, March 15, 2004, http://www.ctgin.com/. Chang Yun-ping, “Threats never bring reconciliation,” Taipei Times, March 8, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/ 2004/03/08/2003101623. Ibid. Melody Chen, “Referendum guru speaks on tomorrow’s ballot initiatives,” Taipei Times, March 19, 2004, www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/03/19/2003106917. Chen Ching-chih, “China’s Taiwan solution: Anschluss.” Taipei Times, March 18, 2004, www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/ 2004/03/18/2003106827. Chen, “Referendum guru.” The CEC is comprised of 11 to 19 council members with a tenure of 3 years. The premier makes the appointments with the approval of the president. According to the Organic Standard Law of the Central Government Agencies passed in June 2004, these appointments will now require approval of the legislature. “Second member resigns after latest CEC U-turn,” China Post, March 16, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/ detail. asp?ID⫽46869&GRP⫽B. Hwang Ya-shi, “Orders from Cabinet lead to intense dispute” [in Chinese], United Daily News, February 6, 2004, http://udndata.com/. Ko Shu-ling, “Election commission calls for debates,” Taipei Times, February 10, 2004, www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/ 2004/02/10/2003098189. Ibid. Fiona Lu, “Pan-blue camp accuses Executive Yuan of meddling,” Taipei Times, February 7, 2004, www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/02/07/2003097785. Lin Chieh-yu, “Yu warns on boycott of referendum,” Taipei Times, February 14, 2004, www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2004/02/14/2003098672.

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22. Central News Agency, “Election official asked not to resign,” Taipei Times, February 21, 2004, www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/02/21/2003099571. 23. Chen, “Referendum guru speaks.” 24. Lin, “Boycott of referendum.” 25. “Misplaced presidential ballots valid,” China Post, March 12, 2004, h t t p : / / w w w. c h i n a p o s t . c o m . t w / b a c k i s s u e / d e t a i l . a s p ? I D ⫽ 46763&GRP⫽A. 26. Huang Tai-lin, “Pan-blues call ballot decision unfair,” Taipei Times, March 13, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/03/13/2003102268.

Chapter 6 Expanding Taiwanese Consciousness 1. In the 1990s, Lee Teng-hui advocated the term “ROC consciousness” to transcend the concept of unification or independence, and talked about a community with shared destiny. 2. G. Tsai, “The politics of Taiwanization (1): Rise of the new Taiwanism,” in Taiwanization: Its Origins and Politics, G. Wang, Y. Wong, and E. Zheng, eds. (Singapore: Singapore University Press, 2001), 16. 3. Mau-kuei Chang, “The Origin and Transformation of Taiwanese National Identity,” in Religion and the Formation of Taiwanese Identities, P. Kratz and M. Rubinstein, eds., pp. 23–58 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 27. 4. Ibid. 5. Huang Zhaotang, Taiwan Nationalism [in Chinese] (Taipei: Qianwei, 1998), 14. Quoted in Mau-kuei Chang, “The Origin and Transformation of Taiwanese National Identity,” in Religion and the Formation of Taiwanese Identities, P. Kratz and M. Rubinstein, eds., pp. 23–58 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 33. 6. Ching Cheong, Will Taiwan Break Away? The rise of Taiwanese Nationalism (Singapore: World Scientific, 2001), 19. 7. Translated from the authors’ notes made at the rally; Lin He-ming, “Rectifying Taiwan’s name rally” [in Chinese], United Daily News Online, September 6, 2003, http://www.udndata.com/. 8. Ibid. 9. Central News Agency, “TSU celebrates birthday with a party in the park,” Taipei Times, September 7, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2003/09/07/2003066832. 10. Huang Tai-lin, “No need for name change, KMT and PFP leaders say,” Taipei Times, September 7, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2003/09/07/2003066830. 11. Ibid.

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12. Robert Edmundson, “The February 28 Incident and National Identity,” Memories of the Future: National Identity Issues and the Search for a New Taiwan, Stephane Corcuff ed. (New York: M.E. Sharpe, 2002), 25–46. 13. Denny Roy, Taiwan: A Political History (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003), 68. 14. Gary Davison, A Short History of Taiwan: A Case for Independence (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003), 80; Roy, Taiwan, 70. 15. Hsu Shih-kai, “Take three steps for nationalism,” Taipei Times, February 28, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/ 2004/02/28/2003100469. 16. Chang Yun-ping, “Chen invites election rivals to join human chain at 228 protest,” Taipei Times, February 24, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes. com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/02/24/2003099932. 17. Chang Yun-ping, “70,000 gather to tout peace,” Taipei Times, February 2, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/2004/ 02/02/2003097148. 18. “DPP, TSU complete human chain rehearsal,” China Post, February 2, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp? ID⫽ 45555&GRP⫽B. 19. Chang Yun-ping, “Lee holds key to Chen’s re-election,” China Post, February 23, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/02/23/2003099810. 20. Chang Yun-ping, “Chen invites election rivals to join human chain at 228 protest,” Taipei Times, February 24, 2004, http://www. taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/02/24/2003099932. 21. Lin Chieh-yu, “Pan-greens hold huge rally in Kaohsiung, blast Soong,” Taipei Times, March 14, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ front/archives/2004/03/14/2003102367. 22. “Flags wave like the sea in Taichung” [in Chinese], United Daily News, March 14, 2004, http://udndata.com/. 23. Ibid. 24. It emerged afterwards that the pan-blue intention had been for Lien to kneel first, but a communication error had resulted in Soong’s making the gesture a few minutes ahead of Lien. The distinction is important inasmuch as four-years ago Soong had also been a presidential candidate and there were still rumors that he had designs to usurp greater power for himself. With his making the gesture first it appeared he was trying to lead the way. 25. Lin, “Pan-greens blast Soong,” Taipei Times. 26. Chang Yun-ping, “DPP looks to firm up support in Taichung with rally,” Taipei Times, March 15, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/03/15/2003102523. 27. Lin Chieh-yu, “Chen sees Lien quitting after defeat,” Taipei Times, March 15, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/03/15/2003102522.

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28. Lin Chieh-yu, “Annette Lu says ethnic conflict is not a real concern,” Taipei Times, April 20, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ front/archives/2004/04/20/2003137346. 29. Zhu Tian-xin, “I don’t love Taiwan” [in Chinese], China Times, April 22, 2004, http://www.ctgin.com/. 30. Chiu Yu-tzu, “ ‘Radical’ A-mei cancels show in China,” Taipei Times, June 14, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/ 2004/06/14/2003175037. 31. Mac William Bishop, “A-mei just can’t please anybody,” Taipei Times, August 3, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/feat/archives/ 2004/08/03/2003181597. 32. Wang Hsiao-wen and Chang Yun-ping, “A-mei blasted for not taking a stand,” Taipei Times, August 3, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/front/archives/2004/08/07/2003182025. 33. “Taiwan vs. China” [in Chinese], TVBS.com, August 6, 2004, http://www.tvbs.com.tw/news/news_list.asp?no⫽alisa20040806182449. 34. Oliver Lin, “Soong, Lien starting to slug it out,” Taipei Times, November 20, 1999, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/local/ archives/1999/11/20/11385. 35. Ibid. 36. Roy, Taiwan, 6. 37. “Revenge or reconciliation?” Taipei Times, March 1, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/03/01/ 2003100695. 38. Ibid. 39. Wong Ping-yun, “Taiwanese with ties to China must look within,” Taipei Times, April 2, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ editorials?pubdate⫽2004–04–02. 40. “Lu’s loose lips might sink her ship,” Taipei Times, July 20, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials?pubdate⫽2004–07–20. 41. Caroline Hong, “Aborigines take to the streets in protest,” Taipei Times, July 25, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2004/07/25/2003180306. 42. Lin Chieh-yu, “Lu claims others should apologize for controversy,” Taipei Times, July 25, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/archives/2004/07/25/2003180334. 43. Debby Wu, “Pan-blue camp proposes bill for ethnic equality,” Taipei Times, April 9, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/ archives/2004/04/09/2003135970.

Chapter 7

Negative Campaigning

1. “PFP sues DPP for slander over satirical VCD,” China Post, November 6, 2003, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp? ID⫽ 42877&GRP⫽B.

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2. “White Terror” refers to the KMT’s politically motivated arrests and execution of intellectuals during martial law—as many as 90,000 were arrested and 45,000 executed. Activity was most concentrated in the 1950s, although the pattern continued until the mid-1980s. 3. “Pro-China forces show dictatorial instincts,” Taipei Times, November 12, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/ 2003/11/12/2003075564. 4. Soong was head of the GIO during the Kaohsiung Incident and the crackdown on Formosa Magazine. 5. “Freedom of speech is a right but has limits,” Taipei Times, December 2, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/2003/ 12/02/2003078073. 6. “Prosecutors start probe into ‘Very News’ scheme,” China Post, November 21, 2003, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽43369&GRP⫽B. 7. “Taiwanese producer of controversial political VCD series breaks his silence,” China Post, November 25, 2003, http:// www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp?cat⫽2&id⫽21524. 8. Amber Wang, “VP warns against smear campaign,” China Post, November 26, 2003, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽43521&GRP⫽B. 9. “Pro-China forces,” Taipei Times, November 12, 2003. 10. Ko Shu-ling, “Fugitive says Chen took his donations,” Taipei Times, February 3, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2004/02/03/2003097266. 11. Fiona Lu, “Chen Yu-hao is a tool of Beijing interlopers: legislator,” Taipei Times, February 5, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/02/05/2003097512. 12. Just two days before the 2004 presidential election, the legislature finally passed the Political Donations Law to increase transparency of political donations. Under the Law each candidate can accept donations only within a certain period of time before the election, and there is a cap on the amount that may be donated by an individual or enterprise. In addition, individuals and parties are now required to keep donations in a separate account and file a report with the government. 13. Chang Yun-ping, “DPP says stance on illicit donations won’t change,” Taipei Times, February 4, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/02/04/2003097398. 14. “Soong sees likely consensus soon on political donations bill,” China Post, February 9, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽45767&GRP⫽B. 15. “First lady says she can’t prevent suicide of ex-tycoon,” China Post, March 3, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/detail.asp? ID⫽46481&GRP⫽A. 16. “Tuntex tycoon names DPP heavyweight as witness,” China Post, March 16, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp?cat⫽1 &id⫽46867.

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17. Chang Yun-ping, “Wu, DPP officials rebut fugitive,” Taipei Times, March 16, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/03/16/2003102639. 18. Debby Wu, “Shen fails to clarify his position in scandal,” Taipei Times, March 19, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/03/19/2003106911.

Chapter 8

Protests and Conflict

1. Translated from personal notes made by the authors at the announcement. Also see Taiwan Government Information Organization, “Statement from Lien-Soong Campaign Headquarters,” GIO, March 20, 2004, http://www.gio.gov.tw/taiwan-website/4-oa/20040320/ 2004032004.html. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid. 4. Ibid. 5. Debby Wu, “KMT, PFP politicians stand out from the crowd at protests,” Taipei Times, March 23, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/03/23/2003107411. 6. Chen Dong-lung, “Crowds assemble before Presidential Office, confront police, Soong appears at 3” [in Chinese], ettoday.com, March 21, 2004, http://www.ettoday.com/2004/03/21/302-1604610.htm. 7. Zong Ho-xun, “Lien Chan: Rescue Taiwan’s democracy, oppose the dirty election” [in Chinese], Zaobao.com (Singapore), March 21, 2004, http://www.zaobao.com/cgi-bin/asianet/gb2big5/g2b.pl?/ special/china/taiwan/pages6/taiwan210304ah.html. 8. Jewel Huang, “Ma finally tells protesters they should go home,” Taipei Times, March 22, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/03/22/2003107257. 9. Jewel Huang, “Ma wants central government to handle protesters,” Taipei Times, March 24, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/03/24/2003107525. 10. Ko Shu-ling, “Yu says demonstrators are ‘barking up the wrong tree’,” Taipei Times, March 22, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/03/22/2003107259. 11. “KMT comes up with nine accusations over voting,” Taipei Times, March 22, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/ archives/2004/03/22/2003107242. 12. “President Chen: There is only one Taiwan, there is no split” [in Chinese], March 23, 2004, Nanfang Quaibao (Taiwan), http://w1. southnews.com.tw/snews/2004/00/2004_109.htm. 13. “Independent US experts join in probe of shooting,” China Post, March 30, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/detail.asp?ID⫽47297& GRP⫽A. 14. Ibid. 15. Ibid.

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16. Dave Lindorff, “Editorial: Pan-blues’ ineptness on shooting is pathetic,” Taipei Times, April 4, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ editorials/archives/2004/04/04/2003116641. 17. Brian Hsu, “Emergency-response mechanism activated,” Taipei Times, March 20, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/03/20/2003107044. 18. Brian-Hsu, “Military on alert ahead of poll,” Taipei Times, March 17, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/ 03/17/2003106529. 19. Brian Hsu, “Military places its special ops units on alert for poll,” Taipei Times, March 18, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/03/18/2003106799. 20. Huang Tai-lin, “Yu tells Ma to control supporters,” Taipei Times, March 27, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/ 2004/03/27/2003107932. 21. Jane Rickards, “Protesters brave weather, gear up for poll demonstration,” China Post, March 27, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/ archive/detail.asp?cat⫽3&id⫽21433. 22. “Protesters storm CEC HQ building,” China Post, March 27, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽47220& GRP⫽B. 23. Taiwan Affairs Office, “Mainland issues warning amid protests in Taiwan,” Press release, Taiwan Affairs Office of the State Council, March 26, 2004, http://www.gwytb.gov.cn:8088/detail.asp?table⫽ headlines&title⫽Headlines&offset⫽300&m_id⫽119. 24. Translated from notes made by the authors at the event. 25. Huang Tai-lin, “Chen replies to pan-blue rally request,” Taipei Times, March 28, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2004/03/28/2003108038. 26. Jane Rickards, “Chen’s victory a slight on Taiwan’s democratic values, KMT’s Lien says,” China Post, March 28, 2004, http://www.chinapost. com.tw/backissue/detail.asp?ID⫽47241&GRP⫽A. 27. Ibid. 28. Ibid. 29. Translated from notes made by the authors at the rally. 30. Ibid. 31. Ibid. 32. Ibid. 33. Office of the President, Republic of China, “President Chen Holds a Press Conference,” News release, Office of the President, ROC, March 27, 2004, http://www.president.gov.tw/php-bin/prez/showenews. php4. 34. Lin Chieh-yu, “Chen empathizes with demonstrators,” Taipei Times, March 28, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/archives/ 2004/03/28/2003108055. 35. Fan Zheng-yang, “Investigating the shooting: Outside investigators welcome” [in Chinese], Liberty Times, March 28, 2004, http://www. libertytimes.com.tw/2004/new/mar/28/today-fo3.htm.

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36. Brian Hsu, “President Chen challenges his critics,” Taipei Times, March 29, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/ 2004/03/29/2003108183. 37. “Pan-blues to kick off ‘truth referendum’ at demonstration,” China Post, April 10, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp? cat⫽1&id⫽47727. 38. Huang Tai-lin and Joy Su, “Rallies turn violent: Ma takes action,” Taipei Times, April 11, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/ archives/2004/04/11/2003136183. 39. “Taiwanese protest turns violent as people attack police with rocks, bottles,” China Post, April 10, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/ archive/detail.asp?cat⫽3&id⫽21605. 40. Huang and Su, “Rallies turn violent.” 41. Kuomintang, “Chen Shui-bian should be held accountable for the current turbulence in Taiwan,” press release, KMT website, April 12, 2004, http://www.kmt.org/. 42. Caroline Hong, “Chen proposes two new referendums,” Taipei Times, April 12, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/archives/ 2004/04/12/2003136335. 43. Ibid.

Chapter 9

Identity and Culture

1. Jewel Huang, “PFP legislators call Ma ‘dumb,’ warn him,” Taipei Times, April 12, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/04/12/2003136345. 2. Liao left the KMT to support Soong in the 2000 presidential election. 3. Huang Tai-lin, “Lien didn’t agree with Lee dictum,” Taipei Times, February 25, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/02/25/2003100054. 4. Jane Rickards, “KMT sues Premier Yu over asset comments,” China Post, November 10, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽54313&GRP⫽B. 5. Ibid. 6. Jewel Huang, “DPP taking KMT to task on ill-gotten assets issue,” Taipei Times, October 25, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/10/25/2003208331. 7. Huang Tai-lin, “I am not responsible for what I said, Sisy Chen says,” Taipei Times, April 21, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/04/21/2003137500. 8. Huang Tai-lin, “KMT: Should we dump our leaders?” Taipei Times, April 13, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/04/13/2003151565. 9. Ibid. 10. Ruo Ru-lan, “Taking to the street again? Lien: Respect the will of the people” [in Chinese], United Daily News, April 12, 2004, http://udndata.com/.

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11. Huang Tai-lin, “KMT says it did not control protesters,” Taipei Times, April 5, 2003, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/ 2004/04/05/2003116741. 12. Lin Chieh-yu, “Chen attacks Soong for harping on victim image,” Taipei Times, November 19, 1999, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/local/ archives/1999/11/19/11257. 13. Ibid. 14. Ibid. 15. Central News Agency, “PFP vows not to accept legitimacy of new Cabinet,” Taipei Times, May 18, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/05/18/2003155968. 16. Ibid. 17. National Policy Foundation, “Bulletgate,” (Taipei: National Policy Foundation, June, 2004). 18. In a press conference a few days after the 2004 presidential election, James Soong claimed that he had been urged to dispute the 2000 presidential election results after ballots for him were found in the garbage. He had declined, he said, in the interest of national stability. 19. Jewel Huang, “Murder Chen if he wins election suit, Lien says,” Taipei Times, November 4, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/11/04/2003209614. 20. Paul Lin, “Just who can save James Soong?” Taipei Times, April 23, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/2004/ 04/23/2003137775. 21. Joseph Bosco, “Taiwan Factions: Guanxi, Patronage, and the State in Local Politics,” Ethnology, 31:2 (1992), pp. 157–183. 22. Translated from an interview collected by the first-listed author of this book on March 26 at the protest rally.

Chapter 10

The Law and Justice

1. Debby Wu, “Premier urges pan-blues to concede,” Taipei Times, November 6, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/11/06/2003209883. 2. Huang Tai-lin, “Lien responds after saying KMT has ‘wimpy members’,” Taipei Times, May 17, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/05/17/2003155831. 3. Huang Tai-lin, “Pan-blue alliance looking to buy non-votes, ad says,” Taipei Times, April 24, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/04/24/2003137891. 4. “KMT says recount shows enough irregularities to call new election,” China Post, July 23, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽50883&GRP⫽B. 5. “The eyes-only paper released,” China Post, November 10, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp?cat⫽1&id⫽54319.

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6. Debby Wu, “Blue camp still defiant after High Court ruling,” Taipei Times, November 5, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/11/05/2003209737. 7. Caroline Hong, “Blue camp to appeal ‘illegal’ verdict,” Taipei Times, December 31, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/12/31/2003217413. 8. Lin Chieh-yu, “Presidential Office defends decision to give routine awards,” Taipei Times, June 2, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/06/02/2003157916. 9. Debby Wu and Ko Shu-Ling, “ ‘Monstrous’ bill horrifies Cabinet,” Taipei Times, August 25, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/front/archives/2004/08/25/2003200116. 10. “ ‘Truth committee’ a step backward,” editorial, Taipei Times, August 26, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/ 2004/08/26/2003200278. 11. “Su calls 319 panel ‘barbarous,’ ” Taipei Times, October 10, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/10/10/ 2003206279. 12. “Grand Justices end 1st hearing on injunction,” China Post, October 15, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp? ID⫽53362&GRP⫽B. 13. “Truth probe to begin October 4, despite boycott,” China Post, September 24, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽52696&GRP⫽B. 14. “Su says civil servants can resist 3–19 shooting probe,” China Post, October 7, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/ detail.asp?ID⫽53075&GRP⫽B. 15. “Truth commission inaugurated.” China Post, October 5, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽ 53002&GRP⫽B. 16. Jane Rickards, “Shooting probe still facing opposition,” China Post, November 30, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/ detail.asp?cat⫽1&id⫽55033. 17. http://www.the319.org. 18. Jane Rickards, “Commission wants to get to the truth about Chen’s pants,” China Post, December 7, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/ backissue/taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽55310&GRP⫽B. 19. Jewel Huang, “Murder Chen if he wins election suit, Lien says,” Taipei Times, November 4, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/11/04/2003209614. 20. Chu Xue-lan and Xie Jin-zhong, “Chen: Seven day abortive coup” [in Chinese], Liberty Times, April 26, 2004, http:// www.libertytimes.com.tw/2004/new/apr/26/today-fo1.htm. 21. Lin Chieh-yu and Jewel Huang, “Chen’s coup comments stir pan-blue ire,” Taipei Times, April 27, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/04/27/2003138268.

224

N otes

22. “Troops will never stage a coup, military spokesmen [sic] declares,” China Post, April 28, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/ backissue/detail.asp?ID⫽48257&GRP⫽A. 23. Ko Shu-ling, “People First Party says it will try to stop inauguration,” Taipei Times, April 6, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/front/archives/2004/04/16/2003136817. 24. Ibid. 25. Lin and Huang, “Chen’s coup comments.” 26. The Control Yuan investigated administrative negligence and determined that the charges were of a political nature, so the attempt to remove them went no further. 27. “Troops will never stage a coup, military spokesmen declares,” China Post, April 28, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ detail.asp?ID⫽48257&GRP⫽A. 28. Young Ming, “Taiwan’s Chen accuses rivals of coup attempt,” Channelnewsasia.com, November 15, 2004, http://channelnewsasia. com/. 29. Lin chieh-yu, “Coup? What coup? MND official says,” Taipei Times, November 17, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/ archives/2004/11/17/2003211390. 30. Caroline Hong, “Pan-blues deny attempted coup,” Taipei Times, November 16, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/11/16/2003211268.

Chapter 11 Faith Unites, Reason Divides 1. Huang Tai-lin and Debby Wu, “Key KMT committee OKs merger idea,”Taipei Times, May 20, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/05/20/2003172071. 2. Huang Tai-lin, “KMT’s push for reform puts Ma in a pickle,” Taipei Times, May 24, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/05/24/2003156742. 3. Huang Tai-lin, “KMT grassroots tell Lien to get to work,” Taipei Times, June 13, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/front/ archives/2004/06/13/2003174840. 4. Ibid. 5. Debby Wu and Jewel Huang, “Pan-blue merger struggling amid renewed discord,” Taipei Times, July 15, 2004, http:// www.taipeitimes.com/ News/taiwan/archives/2004/07/15/2003179032. 6. Ibid. 7. Huang Tai-lin, “KMT legislators want party leaders to hear their views,” Taipei Times, August 4, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/08/04/2003181650. 8. “PFP questions KMT’s sincerity,” Taipei Times, November 10, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/11/10/ 2003210453.

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9. “Lien, Soong can’t agree on vote allocation strategy,” Taipei Times, November 27, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/11/27/2003212735. 10. Chang Yun-ping, “Shen to DPP: Stop harping on ethnic issues,” Taipei Times, April 17, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/ archives/2004/04/17/2003137000. 11. “Constitution rewrite delay urged,” Taipei Times, May 12, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/05/12/2 003155113. 12. “Opposition to hold rallies on inauguration day,” China Post, April 13, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp?cat⫽2&id⫽ 23663. 13. “Violent threats posted on PFP’s bulletin board,” China Post, April 21, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp? ID⫽48049&GRP⫽B. 14. “MND keeps watch on China’s military ahead of Chen’s inauguration,” China Post, May 5, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽48482&GRP⫽B. 15. “Curbing ‘Taiwan independence’ most urgent task,” People’s Daily, May 17, 2004, http://english.peopledaily.com.cn/other/archive.html. 16. Government Information Organization, “Paving the Way for a Sustainable Taiwan,” President Chen’s inaugural address, GIO, http://www.gio.gov.tw/. 17. Government Information Organization, “President Chen Shui-bian’s presidential election acceptance speech,” GIO, March 20, 2004, http://www.gio.gov.tw/. 18. “Pentagon okays sale of long-range radar system,” Taipei Times, April 2, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/2004/ 04/02/2003116339. 19. “DPP lawmakers criticize high price tag on U.S. arms,” China Post, June 4, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp? ID⫽ 49439&GRP⫽B. 20. “Gov’t seeks budget of NT$610 bil. for arms,” China Post, June 3, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽ 49376&GRP⫽B. 21. “Former generals, academics to rally against arms deal,” China Post, September 21, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽52597&GRP⫽B. 22. “Constant war worries disturb peace of mind,” China Post, September 29, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp?cat⫽1&id⫽ 52853. 23. “Arms needed for cross-strait balance: Lee,” China Post, July 3, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽ 50294&GRP⫽B. 24. “Anti-arms purchase rally draws crowd,” China Post, September 26, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp? ID⫽ 52744&GRP⫽B.

226

N otes

25. U.S. Department of Defense, “Annual Report on the Military Power of the PRC,” US Defense Department, 2004, http://www.defenselink.mil/ pubs/d20040528PRC.pdf. 26. “Huge arms deal no guarantee of safety,” China Post, September 24, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/archive/detail.asp?cat⫽ 1&id⫽52713. 27. “Anti-arms purchase rally,” China Post. 28. Jane Rickards, “New defense system could have offensive weapons capabilities,” September 24, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/ backissue/taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽52697&GRP⫽B. 29. “ ‘Balance of terror’ will keep China away: Yu,” China Post, September 26, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp? ID⫽ 52746&GRP⫽B. 30. Ku Er-teh, “The roots of the conflict over arms,” Taipei Times, October 6, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/editorials/archives/2004/ 10/06/2003205788. 31. “ ‘Go back to China,’ anti-arms rallyers told,” Taipei Times, October 25, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/taiwan/archives/ 2004/10/25/2003208336. 32. “Taiwan to face ‘repercussions’ for failed arms deal: US official,” China Post, October 6, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/ taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽53036&GRP⫽B. 33. “Lawmakers slam ‘protection money,’ ” China Post, October 7, 2004, http://www.chinapost.com.tw/backissue/taiwan/detail.asp?ID⫽ 53065&GRP⫽B. 34. Jewel Huang, “Chen gives KMT three months to change emblem,” Taipei Times, November 22, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/ News/front/archives/2004/11/22/2003212073. 35. Lin Chieh-yu, “Chen plays the ‘ideology card’ before election,” Taipei Times, November 24, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/11/23/2003212215. 36. “Opposition candidates avoid party bosses’ pet disputes,” Taipei Times, November 17, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/11/17/2003211411. 37. Caroline Hong, “PFP rips into KMT over election,” Taipei Times, December 14, 2004, http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/ taiwan/archives/2004/12/14/2003215030. 38. Ibid.

Chapter 12 Let One-Hundred Flowers Bloom 1. First-listed author’s notes from Lien Chan’s press conference with foreign correspondents, May 25, 2005. Asiaworld Hotel, Taipei. 2. Ibid.

Past Publications

Entries are grouped by author in chronological order. Olwen Bedford Bedford, O. (in press). Guilt, Shame, and Identity: A Cultural Perspective. In A.B. Bernardo, C.G. Conaco, and E.C. Liwag (Eds.), Progress in Asian Social Psychology (Vol. 1) The Self, Relationships, and Subjective Well-Being in Asia: Psycological, Social, and Cultural Perspectives. New York: Wiley. Bedford, O. (in press). Juveniles Motivations for Remaining in Prostitution. In A.B. Bernardo, C.G. Conaco, and E.C. Liwag (Eds.), Progress in Asian Social Psychology ( Vol. 1) The Self, Relationships, and Subjective Well-Being in Asia: Psycological, Social, and Cultural Perspectives. New York: Wiley. Yeh, K.H., Y.J. Yang, and O. Bedford. (2006). Dual Orientation to Autononmy in Late Adolescence and Early Adulthood: Taiwan and US samples. Manuscript submitted for publication. Yeh, K.H., and O. Bedford. (2002, September). Reciprocal and Authoritarian Filial Piety: A Dual Model. Paper presented at the FortyFirst Annual Conference of the Chinese Association of Psychology (CAP), Tainan, Taiwan. Bedford, O. (2002, November). A Cross-Cultural Framework for Understanding Guilt and Shame. Paper presented at the Fourth Conference of Chinese Psychologists, Nangang, Taiwan. Bedford, O. (2003, July). Guilt, Shame, and Identity. Paper presented at the 5th Annual Association of Asian Social Psychology Conference, Manila, Philippines. Yeh, K.H., and O. Bedford. (2003, May). Filial Belief and Parent-Child Conflict. Paper presented at the International Conference on Intergenerational Relations in Families’ Life Course, Nangang, Taiwan. Hwang, Shu-Ling, and O. Bedford. (2003). Precursors and Pathways to Juvenile Prostitution in Taiwan. Journal of Sex Research, 40(2), 201–210. Bedford, O., and K.K. Hwang. (2003). Guilt and Shame in Chinese Culture: A Cross-Cultural Framework from the Perspective of Morality and Identity. Journal for the Theory of Social Behavior, 33(2), 127–144. Yeh, Kuang-hui, and O. Bedford. (2003). Filial Piety: A Test of the Dual Model. Asian Journal of Social Psychology, 6(3), 215–228.

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Past P ublications

Bedford, O. (2004, May). Socialization of Masculinity: The Case of Taiwan. Paper presented at the Third Biennial International Conference on Intercultural Research, Taipei, Taiwan. Bedford, O. (2004, June). Juvenile Prostitution in Taiwan. Paper presented at the North American Taiwan Studies Association Conference, Honolulu, Hawaii. Yeh, Kuang-hui, and O. Bedford. (2004). Filial Belief and Parent-Child Conflict. International Journal of Psychology, 39(2), 132–144. Hwang, Shu-Ling, and O. Bedford. (2004). Juveniles’ Motivations for Remaining in Prostitution. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 28(2), 136–146. Bedford, O. (2004). The Individual Experience of Guilt and Shame in Chinese Culture. Culture and Psychology, 10(1), 123–146. Bedford, O., and C. Huang. (2005). Factors Contributing to Integrative Conflict Resolution: A Cross-Cultural Perspective. Manuscript submitted for publication. Bedford, O. (2005). Riding the Mist: Han Fei’s Legalism. Taiwan Review, 55(8), 26–31. Bedford, O. (2005). The Circle of Face. Taiwan Review, 55(10), 28–33.

Kwang-Kuo Hwang: Post-1985 English-Language Publications Hwang, K.K., and Michael Bond (1986). Social psychology of Chinese people. In M.H. Bond (Ed.), The Psychology of the Chinese People. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 166–213. Hwang, K.K. (1987). Face and Favor: The Chinese Power Game. American Journal of Sociology, 92(4), 945–974. Hwang, K.K., and Rosina C. Chia (1987). Relationship between InternalExternal Control and Brain Drain in Taiwan. Journal of Social Behavior and Personality, Vol. 1, No. 3, 423–427. Hwang, K.K. (1990). Modernization of the Chinese Family Business. International Journal of Psychology, Vol. 25, No. 5, 6, 593–618. Also in H.S.R. Kao, D. Sinha, and S-H. Ng (Eds.), (1995). Effective Organizations and Social Values. New Delhi: Sage Publications, pp. 37–62. Hwang, K.K. (1991). Dao and the transformative power of Confucianism: a theory of East Asian modernization. In W.M. Tu (Ed.), The Triadic Chord. Singapore: The Institute of East Asian Philosophies, pp. 229–278. Hwang, K.K. (1992). Modern Manifestations of the Struggle between Confucianism and Legalism: Comments on the Spirit of Chinese Capitalism. Cross-Cultural Psychology Bulletin, 26(3), 26–29. Hwang, K.K. (1995). Easternization and productivity: Aligning to quality of life. In K.K. Hwang (Ed.), Easternization: Socio-Cultural Impact on Productivity. Tokyo, Japan: Asian Productivity Organization. Hwang, K.K. (1995). The struggle between Confucianism and legalism in Chinese society and productivity: A Taiwan experience. In K.K. Hwang (Ed.),

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Easternization: Socio-Cultural Impact on Productivity. Tokyo, Japan: Asian Productivity Organization. Hwang, K.K. (Ed.) (1995). Easternization: Socio-Cultural Impact on Productivity. Tokyo, Japan: Asian Productivity Organization. Gabrenya, W.K., and K.K. Hwang (1996). Chinese social interaction: Harmony and hierarchy on the good earth. In M.H. Bond (Ed.), Handbook of Chinese Psychology. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, pp. 309–321. Hwang, K.K. (1997). Chinese corporate culture and productivity. Management and Productivity Enhancement: New Approaches. Tokyo, Japan: Asian Productivity Organization, pp. 11–37. Hwang, K.K. (1997–1998). Guanxi and mientze: Conflict resolution in Chinese society. Intercultural Communication Studies, Vol. VII: I, 17–37. Privette, G., K.K. Hwang, and C.M. Bundrick, (1997). Cross-Cultural Measurement of Experience: Taiwanese and Americans’ Peak Performance, Peak Experience, Misery, Failure, Sport, and Average Events. Perceptual and Motor Skills, 84, 1459–1482. Hwang, K.K. (1998). Two Moralities: Reinterpreting the Finding of Empirical Research on Moral Reasoning in Taiwan. Asian Journal of Social Psychology, Vol. 1, 211–238. Hwang, K.K. (1999). Chinese Corporate Culture and Productivity. Sun YatSun Management Review. International Issue, 621–648. Hwang, K.K. (1999). Filial Piety and Loyalty: Two Types of Social Identification in Confucianism. Asian Journal of Social Psychology. Vol. 2, 163–183. Hwang, K.K. (2000). Psychology in Taiwan. In Kazdin, A.E. (Ed. in chief), Encyclopedia of Psychology, Vol. 8, American Psychological Association, pp. 2–4. Hwang, K.K. (2000). Chinese Relationalism: Theoretical Construction and Methodological Considerations. Journal for the Theory of Social Behavior, 30(2), 155–178. Hwang, K.K. (2001). Morality (East and West): Cultural concerns. In N.J. Smelser, and P.B. Baltes (Eds.), International Encyclopedia of the Social and Behavioral Science. Oxford: Pergamon Press, pp. 10039–10043. Hwang, K.K. (2001). The Deep Structure of Confucianism: A Social Psychological Approach. Asian Philosophy, 11, 3, 179–204. Hwang, K.K. (2001). Introducing Human Rights Education in the Confucian Society of Taiwan: Its Implications for Ethical Leadership in Education. International Journal of Leadership in Education, Vol. 4, No. 4, 321–332. Yang, K.S., K.K. Hwang, and P.B. Pedersen. (Eds.), (2003). Progress in Asian Social Psychology. London: Praeger Publishers. Hwang, K.K. (2003). Critique of the Methodology of Empirical Research on Individual Modernity in Taiwan. Asian Journal of Social Psychology, 6, 241–262. Hwang, K.K. (2003). In Search of a New Paradigm for Cultural Psychology. Asian Journal of Social Psychology, 6, 287–291.

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Bedford, O., and K.K. Hwang. (2003). Guilt and Shame in Chinese Culture: A Cross-Cultural Framework from the Perspective of Morality and Identity. Journal for the Theory of Social Behavior, 33(2), 127–144. Hwang, K.K., T.W. Liu, D.Y. Han, and S.H. Chen. (2003). Somatisation, emotional expression, and Confucian ethics in Chinese culture. In W.O. Phoon (Ed.), Chinese Communities and Mental Health. Australia: Transcultural Mental Health Centre, pp. 47–78. Hwang, K.K. (2005). The Third Wave of Culture Psychology: The Indigenous Movement. The Psychologist, 18(2), 80–83. Hwang, K.K. (in press). Epistemological goal of indigenous psychology: A perspective from constructive realism. In B.N. Setiadi, A. Supratiknya, W.J.S. Lonner, and Y.H. Pootinga. (Eds.), Unity in diversity: Enhancing a peaceful world. Proceeding of XVIth International Congress of International Association for Cross-Cultural Psychology. Hwang, K.K. (2005). A Philosophical Reflection on the Epistemology and Methodology of Indigenous Psychologies. Asian Journal of Social Psychologies, 8(1), 5–17. Hwang, K.K. (in press). Han Fei’s theory of leadership and its function in Confucian society. In C.C. Chen, and J.R. Meindl (Eds.), Chinese Leadership Philosophies and Practices: Indigenous Perspectives. Information Age Publishing. Han, K.H., M.C. Li., and K.K. Hwang. (in press). Cognitive Responses to Favor Request from Social Targets of Different Relationships in a Confucian Society. Journal of Social and Personal Relationships.

Index

1992 consensus, 55, 57 6108 special budget, 191–2, 197 aborigines, 3, 64–5, 89, 91, 100, 102–3 Academia Sinica, 55, 100, 105, 195 Administrative Procedure Law, 27 Alderdice, John, 73–4 American Institute in Taiwan, 30 arms, 12, 33, 44, 68, 131, 192–6 Assembly and Parade Law, 123 ballots, 63, 68, 71–2, 91, 97, debate over, 75–80, recount of, 122–7, 136, 139, 146, 168–71, 177 Beidaihe, 23 Beijing, 23–4, 30–1, 37, 41, 44, 46–8, 56–7, 67, 72, 85, 94, 96, 99, 112, 166, 190, 199, 201 black gold, 10, 92–3, 96, 112, 125, 146–8, 185–6 Blair, Tony, 34, 74 Boucher, Richard, 38, 45 Brandt, Willy, 95 Broadcasting and Television Law, 107 bulletgate, 133–4, 157, 171–2 see also shooting Bush, George W., 9, 24, 32–3, 45–8, 50, 55, 157, 190 Cabinet, 26–8, 33–4, 40, 43–4, 54, 61, 63, 75–7, 124, 132–3, 147–8, 157, 174–5, 177, 180, 189, 191–2, 197

caged-bird law, 28, 43 Central Election Commission, 61–3, 75–80, 120–2, 126–7, 133, 136–7, 139, 150, 168–9 Chang Ching-sen, 112 Chang Hui-mei (A-mei), 98–9 Chen Che-nan, 112 Chen Ding-nan, 138 Chen Yu-hao, 112–18, 134 Chen, Beverly, 108 Chen, Sisy, 71–2, 120, 135, 149, 153 Chiang Hsia, 109 Chiang Kai-shek, 5 Chien, Frederick, 173 Chin, May, 63–4 China Airlines, 34–5 Chinese consciousness, 11, 30, 86, 88, 91, 94, 96, 194–5, 200 see also Taiwanese consciousness Chiou I-jen, 31–2, 34–5, 38, 113, 128 Chiu Yi, 107, 109, 122, 133 civil suit, 107, 169 clientelism, 160 Clinton, Bill, 15, 46 Coalition for Equal Opportunity, 98 Communists, 4–5, 7, 16, 30, 57, 72, 85, 96–7, 101, 140, 196, 200 Confucianism, 2, 41, 76, 111, 154, 158–61, 163–4, 167, 200, 202 constitution, 17, 21, 26–7, 38–41, 43, 47, 52, 54, 66, 75, 80, 93, 105, 124, 138, 166, 175–6, 179, 189, 195, 197, 200 articles of, 28, 52–5, 61, 68, 138

232

I ndex

Control Yuan, 67, 76, 80, 109, 138, 172–3, 175–6, 180 Council of Grand Justices, 54, 174–5, 177 coup, 121, 131, 178–81, 197 crackdown, 8, 90 Criminal Investigation Bureau (CIB), 128, 130, 173, 176 crossing the red line, 30–1, 48–9 cross-strait dialogue, 12, 18, 22, 35, 53, 55, 72 relations, 16, 18–20, 32, 36, 38, 50, 52, 56, 68–9, 71–3, 88, 99, 189, 190 tensions, 12, 17, 20, 30, 41, 45, 57, 65, 186, 192 defensive referendum, see under referendums defense ministry, see Ministry of National Defense Democracy Action Alliance, 192 democratic development 5–9, 57, 73, democratic reform, 12, 119 dictator, 2, 41, 75, 80, 141, 200 dissidents, 66 Dutch in Taiwan, 3, 64, 65 eight-point speech, 56 election annulment, 168, 170–1 invalid, 68, 79, 80, 121, 123, 125–6, 134, 139, 168, 177 recount, 1, 122–3, 125–7, 134, 136–7, 145, 157, 159, 164, 169–70, 177, 179 emergency decree, 126, 137, 163 emergency response mechanism, 131–2 ethnic conflict, 5, 10, 12, 13, 91, 96, 98, 100, 103, 187–8, 190 Ethnic Equality Action Alliance, 98 ethnicity, 3, 72, 84, 90, 98, 187, 190

five no’s, 16, 21, 38, 47, 51 Formosa Incident, see Kaohsiung Incident fourth nuclear power plant, see under referendums free trade, 33, 51 Fujianese, 89, 100–2 Gore, Al, 157 Government Information Office, 107–8, 110, 153 Grand Justices, see Council of Grand Justices Hakka, 89, 100–1, 135 hei jin, see black gold Heritage Foundation, 50 High Court, 122, 126, 168–9, 170–1, 180 Hitler, Adolf, 13, 80, 112, 153 Hoklo, 100–1, 188 Hong Kong, 7, 19, 24, 190 Hou Hsiao-hsien, 98 Hou You-yi, 173 Hsieh Zhu-wei, 109 Hu Jintao, 30, 32 Huang Chu-wen, 88 Huang, Daniel, 39, 107 Huang, George, 78–80 inauguration, 16, 21, 88, 141, 156–7, 169, 172, 175, 180, 189–90 independence, 2, 10–12, 15–17, 19–22, 25, 27, 29, 32, 38–41, 44–7, 51, 53, 56–7, 59, 64, 67, 71–2, 76, 83, 88, 94, 97–8, 131, 138, 146, 166, 190, 193, 199 Initiative and Referendum Institute, 74–5, 78 intellectual property rights, 20, 33 Japanese rule, 4–6, 64–5, 84, 90, 148, 158 Jaw Shaw-kong, 69–70

I ndex Jiang Zemin, 23, 56 Judicial Yuan, 174–5 justice, 54, 89, 116, 118, 121–2, 124, 132, 154, 167, 171, 176–8 Kaohsiung, 8, 66, 92, 94, 122, 146, 165, 194, 196 Kaohsiung Incident, 8, 165 Kaufmann, Bruno, 74 Korea, 7, 46, 70 kowtow, 93 Koxinga, see Zheng Cheng-gong Ku Chen-ching, 78 Kuo, Julien, 69 Lawless, Richard, 196 laws Administrative Procedure, 27 Assembly and Parade, 123 Broadcasting and Television, 107 caged-bird, 28, 43 Election, 79–80, 116, 120–1, 126, 171 National Emblem, 197 Referendum, 27–8, 43–5, 52–4, 58, 61, 68, 74–5, 133, 141, 169, 171 Lee, Henry, 129–30 Lee Teng-hui, 8, 12, 16, 20–1, 23, 39, 43, 46, 58, 66, 68, 85–7, 90–2, 131, 147–8, 150–1, 153, 178, 184, 186, 201 Li Ao, 66–7, 71 Liao Cheng-hao, 148 Lien Chan, 10, 16, 21–2, 25, 29, 39, 62, 83, 88, 90, 93–4, 100, 105, 119, 121, 123, 134, 137, 139, 142, 147, 148–53, 156, 158–9, 166, 169, 171, 177–8, 181, 183–5, 195, 201 Lin Chia-lung, 26, 63–4, 77 Lo Chi-ming, 67 Lu Tong-lung, 110 Lu, Annette, 31, 57, 96–7, 99, 102–3, 110, 135, 166, 169, 172 Luo Da-you, 135

233

Ma Ying-jeou, 54, 62, 123, 140, 142, 145, 152, 184 Mainland Affairs Council, 35, 38, 40–1 Mao Tsetung, 4, 85 martial law, 6, 8, 58, 79, 89–90 Mencius, 119, 163 merger, 183–6, 198 military budget, see 6108 special budget China, 2, 12–16, 23–4, 45, 48, 52–3, 65, 67–8, 90, 93 KMT, 7–8, 89, 165 Taiwan, 3, 5–8, 131–2, 136, 170–1, 173, 178–81, 192–5 Ming Dynasty, 3 Ministry of Justice, 129, 173 Ministry of National Defense, 33, 55, 70, 181, 193, 195 missiles, 5, 12, 33, 44, 51–2, 55, 64, 66, 68–70, 74, 89, 94, 96, 194 morality, 108, 157, 161 mudslinging, 103, 106, 119 National Assembly, 191 National Emblem Law, 197 national identity, 2, 5, 13–14, 63–4, 67, 83–4, 91, 96–7, 119, 187–9, 195, 199–200 National Police Administration, 129 National Security Bureau, 128, 180 nationalism, 13, 30, 84, 101, 119 native Taiwanese, 4–5, 7–11, 85, 90, 100–1, 153, 187 new cultural discourse, 188 new middle way, 16–17, 21, 39 New Party (NP), 10, 16, 59, 146, 186, 196 New Tide Faction, 189 Nixon, Richard, 7 Olympics, 46 one China, 17–19, 22–3, 36–7, 46, 48, 55–6, 59, 67, 72, 184 one China principle, 18–19

234

I ndex

one country on each side, 19–24, 36, 39, 55, 57 one country, two systems, 19, 36, 88 Paal, Douglas, 30, 38 People First Party (PFP), 10, 16, 29, 31, 39, 58–9, 62, 77, 80, 83, 86, 88, 92–93, 96, 102–3, 106–7, 109, 113, 119, 122, 127, 130, 132–3, 139, 142, 146–7, 151–2, 157, 172, 174–5, 179–80, 183–6, 189, 195–9 People’s Liberation Army, 40, 46 People’s Republic of China, 12, 17, 22, 39, 94, 193 populism, 9–14, 63, 81, 86, 125, 161, 200 Powell, Colin, 48, 53 Presidential Office, 34–5, 49–51, 63, 87, 96, 102, 112, 117, 123–5, 128, 131–3, 139–41, 144, 150, 152, 172, 179–80 pro-independence, 10, 18, 28, 40–1, 99, 111, 188 protests, 8, 14, 64, 78, 80, 98, 102, 192, 196 post election, 121–5, 131–5, 138–44, 150–4, 171, 175, 177–80 see also rallies Qing Dynasty, 3–4, 64 rallies Change the president, 92, 94, 96 Give back the truth, 139–40 Hand-in-hand, 64, 69–70, 88, 90, 92, 94–6, 119 Love Taiwan, 86, 97–9, 101, 103, 141, 187–8, 195 Referendum for the truth, 141–2 We want the truth, 132–5 recount, 1, 122–7, 134, 136–7, 145, 157, 159, 164, 169–70, 177, 179

administrative, 126–7 judicial, 126–7, 136–7 red guards, 76, 98 referendums Article 17, 28, 52–5, 61, 68 Article 20, 54 debate of, 5, 14, 19, 27, 62–3, 66–7, 69, 86, 98, 105, 174, 187, 194, 201 defensive, 28, 43–5, 47, 49–50, 52–4, 67, 75 on the fourth nuclear power plant, 8, 29, 31, 107, 201 questions, 43, 53–4, 56, 69, 72–3, 75–6 Referendum Law, 27–8, 43–5, 52–4, 58, 61, 68, 74–5, 133, 141, 169, 171 on WHO entry, 24–6, 29–30, 36, 64 Republic of China, 6, 15, 17, 22, 70, 87–9, 123, 135, 159, 166, 184, 188–9, 191, 199 Republic of Taiwan, 4, 39 reunification, 10, 47, 200 riot, 7, 77–8, 90, 125, 133, 140, 142, 179 rule of law, 14, 93, 164, 166–7, 200 Sadaam Hussein, 74 SARS, 24–5 Shen Fu-hsiung, 117, 187–8 Shih Chih-yang, 175 shooting, 119–24, 128–30, 133–4, 138, 171–2 Siew, Vincent, 145, 183–4 signature drive, 141 social responsibility, 157–8, 164 Soong, James, 16, 21, 25, 29, 31, 39, 58, 62, 80, 83, 88, 90, 92–3, 100, 103, 106–10, 113–14, 122–3, 137, 146–7, 150–1, 153, 159, 170, 181, 185, 198 Southern Taiwan Society, 107

I ndex sovereignty, 17–18, 28, 30, 44–5, 52–5, 59, 68, 189–91, 199 special report VCD, 106–10 special state-to-state relations, 16–17, 20, 23, 38, 86 status quo, 16–19, 22, 32, 38, 44–53, 94, 191, 199 swing voters, 21, 95, 119, 151–2, 197 Tainan, 138, 142, 153–4, 175, 198 Taipei Society, 173 Taiwan Affairs Office, 23, 32, 40, 56, 133 Taiwan High Court, 122, 126, 168–71, 180 Taiwan Relations Act, 2, 33, 46, 48 Taiwan Solidarity Union (TSU), 10, 20–1, 83, 88, 144, 147, 172, 174–5, 186 Taiwanese consciousness, 2, 11–16, 20, 81, 83–6, 88, 91, 94, 96, 100, 118, 197, 200–2 see also Chinese consciousness Taiwanization, 7, 15, 91, 94, 103, 146, 201 Tang Fei, 147 Tang Jiaxuan, 56 Tang Yao-ming, 131, 180 three communiqués, 46 three links, 20, 35, 36, 188 three no’s policy, 15, 46 trust, 32, 57, 71, 112, 121, 127–8, 137–8, 143, 149, 160, 164, 167, 179 truth commission, 137, 143, 173–6 Tsai, Alex, 25, 39–40, 149, 152 Tuntex Group, 112–13, 117–18

235

unification, 10–11, 16–20, 27, 38, 44, 56, 58, 70, 72, 94, 98–9, 146, 193, 199 United Nations, 7, 59, 87 VCD, see special report verdict, 117, 157, 165, 168 waisheng Taiwanese, 5, 9–10, 13, 85, 87, 89, 90–1, 99–101, 103, 142, 147, 151, 187–8, 190 Wang Ben-hu, 99 Wang Ching-feng, 76 Wang Hsiao-fen, 108 Wang Jin-pyng, 31, 62, 180, 184 Wang Zaixi, 40 war, 2, 12, 21, 31–2, 39–41, 43–4, 46, 48, 58, 64–5, 69–70, 74, 99, 190, 193–4 water cannon, 123, 142 weapons, 12, 33, 52, 64–5, 68–70, 73–4, 142, 191–7, 201 see also arms Wen Jiabao, 30, 46, 48 white terror, 107 World Health Assembly, 24, 26 World Health Organization, 24–6, 29–30, 36, 64 World Trade Organization, 24, 33 Wu Chin-fa, 109 Wu Feng, 188 Wu Shu-chen, 115–16, 134 Wu, Frank, 109 Yeh Yao-peng, 67–8 Yu Fu, 109–10 Yu Shyi-kun, 110, 114, 140 Zheng Cheng-gong, 3–4 Zhu Rongji, 23 Zhu Tian-xin, 98

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