Kung-fu legislature

Kung-fu legislature

Controversial bills result in pushing, shoving, throwing things and general misbehavior on the legislative floor.

Global Post, July 10, 2010

TAIPEI, Taiwan — He looked like a crowd-surfer at a punk rock show.

Clad in a cream-colored party vest with his name stitched on the back in green and a headband around his graying hair, the pro-independence legislator bobbed in the air in front of the speaker's lectern. Shouting filled the chamber as he was pushed and pulled by a sea of clutching hands.

His fellow legislators tried to scale the speaker's platform, only to be pushed away by ruling party legislators. One pro-independence legislator tumbled ass over elbow to the floor.

Something flew through the air and struck a ruling party legislator in the face. The victim put a hand over his eye and raised his other hand like an injured soccer player asking to be taken off the field.

Welcome to Taiwan's legislature, one of the unruliest in Asia or, really, anywhere in the world. Its melees have made it onto CNN and sparked regular bouts of soul-searching here over the "loss of face" for Taiwan. But few think the chamber's likely to learn better manners anytime soon.

"The legislature is not a regular law-making platform — it's a martial arts platform," said ruling Kuomintang legislator Alex Tsai. "Especially when some legislators want to show off how much they oppose some bills."

So it went on July 8, when the legislature convened to take up the Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement (ECFA), a controversial China-Taiwan trade deal. In a surprise move, the speaker abruptly announced that the bill would proceed directly to a second and final reading within days, skipping committee review.

That's when pro-independence legislators, from the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), went bananas. They charged the speaker's lectern, attempting to block the procedure. Tsai was one of the Kuomingtang (KMT) lawmakers on "defense," swatting away climbers' arms with a mischievous, amused grin on his face.

Just minutes after the session opened, it adjourned in chaos. Two legislators went to the hospital for minor injuries.

A hive of journalists buzzed outside, swapping information. One key point in dispute: what exactly had hit the KMT legislator's face? Some said a calculator; others, a small clock.

Said one visibly excited TV reporter: "They haven't fought much recently," before scurrying away to do a stand-up report.

A KMT legislator came outside to the steps in front of the chamber to show off his battle scars to the media pack. "We regret that the DPP uses violent methods, hurting the legislature's image and Taiwan's image," one of his party-mates said.

By now, it's a ritual. Legislators from both sides admit that much of the tussling is about as "real" as U.S. professional wrestling and is mostly a show for the T.V. cameras. They prepare for battle by slipping on sneakers or other soft-soled shoes and making other wardrobe adjustments.

"I can't wear a tie — sometimes it's dangerous," said opposition DPP legislator Twu Shiing-jer, explaining that ties only give the other side something to pull on in the heat of battle.

Sometimes the fighting gets out of control though — and people do get hurt. The women fight just as much as the men, pulling each others' hair and pounding on tables.

In 2004 a food fight broke out over an arms purchase bill, with rice-and-chicken lunch boxes flying across a conference room. In 2006, a female opposition legislator snatched away a bill on closer links ith China and stuffed it in her mouth — call it "veto by chewing."

In a separate brawl, another threw her shoe at the speaker, hitting a nearby legislator instead.

Why such high emotions?

"The DPP wants to show their supporters they are heroes, fighting with the KMT," said Tsai. "They say the KMT has an alliance with China, so if they fight with the KMT, they're fighting with China. That will please supporters and get them more money and more votes."

"If there were no cameras, they wouldn't fight with us," he said.

The DPP legislator Twu didn't entirely disagree. "Taiwan's democracy is not mature yet," he said. "We're just like kids, arguing in the legislature."

He said he "worried a lot" about the effect on Taiwan's international image. But he said his party, with only 33 out of 113 seats, sometimes had to take drastic action because the majority party routinely ignored them.

"From our point of view, we never fight," said Twu. "We just try to occupy the chairman's chair, to stop illegal processes. They [the KMT] don't like to discuss — unfortunately, they don't respect the minority."

He said legislators that fight tooth-and-nail over one "hot" bill will cooperate on others, and they can get along just fine after the closing bell's rung.

Asked about China's tendency to point to Taiwan's legislative brawls as a cautionary sign of the chaos democracy can bring, Twu was dismissive.

"Everyone knows this isn't true — this is just [China] trying to cheat its people," he said. "Even an immature democracy is better than rule by just one group or man," he said, referring to the Chinese Communist Party's autocratic rule.

Twu said his party hopes to prolong the ECFA review process as long as possible, to make sure the Taiwanese people understand the stakes. It looks more likely that the public will instead be treated to a few more days of fisticuffs.

Taiwan sociologist Chiu Hei-yuan said the main reason for legislative conflict was the imbalance between the ruling and opposition party. He said Taiwan had turned the clock back to the 1980s, when a vastly outnumbered pro-democracy opposition used violent methods to make its presence known.

"The structure of Congress has returned to the period of the end of martial law, so there's no way for the two sides to compromise," said Chiu. "The KMT says, I'll just ignore your opinions. And the DPP says, I'll just fight hard. I think both sides are irrational."

Chiu recently led a team of scholars in assembling a report on legislative and media reform. He said only tweaks to the legislative electoral system would help. "The big gap between the two parties will continue if the voting system isn't changed. There won't be any way to solve the problem for a long time," he said.

Twu, not surprisingly, agreed. "We must tell the Taiwan people, if you want more stable politics, you must increase the number of DPP legislators, to make it more even."

Outside the legislative chamber, one security guard had a jaded take on the chaos. He was surprised the session had concluded so quickly, but otherwise it was all business as usual.

Told that violence in the U.S. Congress had been rare for more than 100 years, he gave a quizzical look, then asked, "How does your Congress pass bills?"

Original site

Vitamin, or poison pill?

China-Taiwan trade deal: buyer's remorse?

July 8, 2010

Analysis: A week after historic pact, many Taiwanese worry that they did the wrong thing.

TAIPEI, Taiwan — Is it a vitamin, or a poison pill?

A week after China and Taiwan signed a landmark trade deal binding their economies closer, Taiwanese can't decide if they've been thrown an economic life-line or, as one paper put it, signed a political "suicide note." And that's the experts.

The two sides inked the Economic Cooperation Framework agreement (ECFA), on June 29 at a ceremony in Chongqing, China. The deal lowers tariffs on a range of goods. It also provides better market access for services, including banking.

All fine and good. Except this is no run-of-the-mill trade deal.

Strange to say, it was signed by two countries who don't recognize each other's existence. In fact, they're technically still in a state of hostilities. China covets self-ruled Taiwan and has some 1,300 missiles piled up across from the island as a reminder it shouldn't be naughty (i.e., make a formal, permanent break with the mainland.)

China's claim is long-standing. But instead of bellicose threats, Beijing has begun using the honey of economic enticements to catch the fly. ECFA's terms heavily favor Taiwan, with tariff reductions on 539 Taiwanese exports to China versus just 267 Chinese exports to Taiwan. In other words, it's a big, fat dollop of honey.

Now, self-ruled Taiwan is wondering whether its fragile young democracy can long endure in the sweaty economic embrace of the hulking suitor next door.

Participants in a protest against the China-Taiwan trade deal in Taipei on June 26, 2010. (Jonathan Adams/GlobalPost)

"I think we all know why China is making so many concessions," said Taiwanese economist Ma Kai at a forum. "China thinks ECFA is a very important step toward the unification of China. Everyone in Taiwan knows that."

"If that is the political price that Taiwan has to pay to get ECFA, this price is too high for many Taiwanese to accept."

Polls suggest a majority of Taiwanese backed the trade deal [3], at about a 62 percent to 37 percent ratio in May, according to survey data compiled by the Election Study Center's Yu Ching-hsin. But only 10 percent support unification with China.

Even some of the deal's supporters have voiced anxiety about how Taiwan can fend off Beijing's political advances. And they worry about over-dependence. Already, some 35 percent of Taiwan's exports go to China; after the deal some say that percentage could rise to 45 percent or even 50 percent.

"That ratio's too high — it's dangerous," said Hwang Jen-te, an economist at National Chengchi University. "It will endanger Taiwan's economic security; we have to consider this."

The pro-independence opposition thinks Taiwan's been hornswaggled. "In economics, maybe it [ECFA] is good for giant industries, but for the political part, we lose," said opposition legislator Twu Shiing-jer. "I hope the international community will not come to see Taiwan as a part of China because we signed this."

The opposition mobilized tens of thousands of people in a march against the trade deal on June 26. It says the government is exaggerating the deal's benefits, and it wants a referendum.

The pro-independence party has posted Youtube videos warning of ECFA's effects [4]. One shows a Taiwanese applicant passed over for a job in favor of a Chinese applicant willing to accept half the salary.

Taiwan president Ma Ying-jeou said he's well aware of China's unification agenda, but insists Taiwanese should stay calm and have confidence. He's pledged not to enter unification talks and not to allow Chinese workers into Taiwan.

His party, the Kuomintang, holds a large majority in the legislature and, barring an internal revolt, should push the deal through. "We are convinced that our position is strongly supported by the majority of people in Taiwan," said legislator Alex Tsai, adding that they want the legislative review done and dusted by the end of summer.

Other commentators also took a glass-half-full approach, putting the trade deal in the context of decades of troubled relations.

"For the first time in our 60-years history, the two sides, while hostile before, are talking about the institutionalization and formalization of economic relations between Taiwan and China," said Francis Kan, an expert from National Chengchi University. "This will go down in history as a turning point."

So what do normal Taiwanese think of ECFA's impact?

"It's not clear," said the owner of a neighborhood fruit stand, without looking up from his pear-peeling, as his wife cut up the fruit into white, juicy chunks. "Whatever the case, it won't
have a big effect on our business."

Original site

In Taiwan, an old-fashioned globalization debate

Analysis: A proposed Taiwan-China trade deal would mean cheaper stuff for consumers, but might also wipe out low-end local industries.

Global Post, May 23, 2010

TAINAN and LINKOU, Taiwan — Cabdriver Chang doesn't like the deal.

Weaving through traffic in the balmy, temple-studded southern city of Tainan, he lets loose on why a proposed Taiwan-China trade deal — the Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement (ECFA) — is bad for Taiwan.

Taiwanese will lose jobs, he says. Taiwan's president is "selling out" the island. And Taiwan firms can't compete with the dirt-cheap "China price" made possible by low-wage labor.

"Take these, for example," he said, tugging on the worn, dark gray pair of pants he was wearing. "These pants are made in China, and I bought them for just NT$200 (about $7). The same kind made in Taiwan will cost you NT$1,000."

Asked about the apparent contradiction of railing against cheap Chinese imports while wearing a cheap pair of Chinese-made pants, he just laughed.

So goes the ambivalence of a globalized age. Trade deals like ECFA promise cheaper stuff for consumers in wealthier countries like Taiwan or the U.S. But wages for most workers in such countries are likely to stagnate, and some in low-end industries will lose their jobs.

Nowhere are feelings more mixed than in today's Taiwan, where the government is negotiating a deal that would bind the island more tightly than any other country in the world to China's behemoth economy.

Taiwan has the added anxiety of negotiating with a rising political and military force that has vowed to one day absorb the self-ruled island, by force if need be.

But, to a surprising degree, the debate on ECFA in Taiwan is shaping up as a classic — if more pointed — argument on the pros and cons of globalization, mirroring similar conversations from Brazil to Botswana.

In a late-April TV debate with the pro-ECFA president, anti-ECFA opposition leader Tsai Ying-wen barely talked about politics, focusing instead on economics. ECFA will worsen income inequality, mostly benefit big conglomerates and put many Taiwanese out of work, she said, as the two sides commit to scrapping most tariffs over the next decade.

"You're talking about the first two or three years," Tsai told Taiwan president Ma Ying-jeou, chiding him for low-balling potential job losses. "But in the next seven or eight years we have to eliminate most tariffs. How many people will be affected then?"

Ma, for his part, said Taiwan's trade with China, the island's chief export market, will "definitely" increase after the deal and that he would not allow Taiwan's sovereignty to be hurt. He accused Tsai's party of fear-mongering, saying it was "exaggerating the negative effects" of the deal.

Interviews with business bosses, workers, government officials and locals here illustrate why trade deals like ECFA create so much anxiety and uncertainty. The gains are often intangible, spread economy-wide and over long stretches of time, and so don't mean much in day-to-day terms to the average "Chou."

The threat is much easier to grasp. Cheap Chinese stuff could overwhelm the island, putting Taiwan firms out of business and hundreds of thousands of workers on the streets, the deal's opponents say.

"We can't compete"

Such are the fears of hand-made shoemakers, clustered in the Tainan area in southern Taiwan, and in the north around the capital Taipei.

Over tea at the Taiwan-made Footwear Development Association's office in Tainan, association chairman Yang Rong-de and local industry official Chiu Fu-yin said ECFA will put their business in peril.

Right now, they said, Taiwan's small firms can still make money selling hand-made shoes, because a high tariff of more than 40 percent on Chinese-made shoes makes them sell for roughly the same price as Taiwan-made shoes.

But if ECFA is passed, that tariff protection could come tumbling down, and consumers like cabdriver Chang would buy Chinese instead.

Footwear industry spokesman Yang said Taiwan's entry into the World Trade Organization in 2002 wiped out a third of the jobs in the island's hand-made shoe industry. Another half of the remaining employees could be out of work if tariffs on Chinese imports are scrapped, he said.

Such workers are typically less-educated and don't have the specialized skills needed to thrive in a globalized world. Many will likely end up in low-end service sector jobs, or unemployed.

In a worst-case scenario, Yang and Chiu said they might have to move their businesses to China or elsewhere. Both are preparing to hand off the business to their sons; neither wants to see their sons leave to set up shop abroad.

"If ECFA is signed, our factories will move to Vietnam or other countries because their workers are cheaper than ours," said Yang. "Signing ECFA will hurt our next generation."

The blow might not be immediate, they acknowledge. Taiwan's current tariff on imported Chinese shoes will run through 2012, they said, and they may be able to extend it another five years. They say they need to buy at least that much time to adjust to the China threat. By then, they hope, Chinese wages and materials costs will have risen enough to create a more level playing field.

Currently, workers in a hand-made shoe factory near Tainan make above $630 a month; their Chinese counterparts across the Taiwan Strait make less than half that, said shoemakers.

"If the tariff on Chinese shoes went to zero today, it would be 'game over' for us — we'd be finished," said Chiu, chairman of the Yifeng Leather Company in Tainan. "We can't compete."

The government has already identified shoes as one of 17 traditional industries likely to be harmed by ECFA. It's set aside a $3-billion, 10-year fund to help such firms upgrade, but Yang and Chiu just don't believe they'll see any of that money.

An edge for machinery makers?

Nearly two hours north by high-speed rail, H.H. Huang presides over a sprawling machinery business that should benefit from the trade deal.

His firm, Dees Hydraulic, is headquartered in an industrial zone in Linkou, a suburban wasteland of cracked pavements, glass shards, jumbled shop fronts, traffic jams and wandering packs of wild dogs.

Dee's makes massive hydraulic presses for factories, mostly car factories stamping out car body parts with robot workers on mammoth assembly lines.

He exports 90 percent of his machines, half of that to China, transporting them by road to the port of Keelung from there to the world. He can't fly them out because some of his machines are heavier than an airplane, he says.

Right now, machines like his face tariffs of 6 to 9 percent in China. If ECFA is signed, those tariffs could be scrapped, making his products more competitive in what's now the world's No. 1 machinery market.

He's not worried about competition from Chinese companies, because Taiwan has a very small market for such machines, and firms like his are far ahead of their Chinese counterparts in technology and know-how.

But Dees Hydraulic doesn't fit the neat narrative of a firm that will gain from ECFA. Huang says he already has a factory in China focused on the Chinese market, and there his main competition is a Chinese firm, Tianjin Forge.

Huang says he's more likely to take advantage of ECFA by making lower-tech presses in China at his factory there, then exporting them tariff-free back to Taiwan for more value-added, before re-exporting them to markets in the Europe and the U.S. But even then, he said, "For my company, actually the effect of ECFA won't be very big."

Most of his staff are highly skilled engineers whose jobs are safe as long as Taiwan maintains an edge in their industry. Indeed, skills like theirs are at a premium in a globalized age, which helps account for the widening income gap between high-end and low-end workers worldwide.

Asked if he'd boost payrolls after the trade deal and its increased business, Huang said no. "It's not necessary to hire more people," he said. "What we need is to improve the skills of the people we have."

He said the Taiwan government hadn't done a good job explaining ECFA, and should work harder to build national consensus before signing the deal. "The government shouldn't be in such a rush," he said.

Dees Hydraulic illustrates how economists' tidy arguments and eye-catching graphs often have little bearing on any specific company's business decisions. Trade deals like ECFA are just one small factor among many.

For the machinery and machine tool industries, the value of the Korean currency, the won, is a far bigger concern than Chinese tariffs, said Wang Cheng-ching, president of the Taiwan Association of Machinery Industry.

That's because sector-wide, Taiwan machine firms' main competition is South Korea. Over the last two years, the Korean won has depreciated by almost 40 percent, says Wang, essentially giving their products a 40 percent pricing advantage over their Taiwan competitors in key markets like China.

That's given the Koreans such an edge that they nudged past Taiwan exporters last year to grab the fifth-largest share of the global market for machine tools (at $2.6 billion by production value), relegating Taiwan to sixth place (at $2.4 billion).

He says his association asked the Taiwan government for help but was told nothing can be done. "The currency change is terrible," said Wang. "For Taiwan, it's very difficult. Everybody's worried about it."

Still, Wang backs ECFA as a way to normalize economic ties with China and says it will be a long-term boost for his industry, especially if Taiwan can move on to sign similar deals with other key markets.

Faced with Korean currency games, they can use any help they can get.

Enter the experts

Deals like ECFA always look good on paper — or on PowerPoint. And most economists have never met a trade deal they didn't like.

The principle of comparative advantage — the theoretical bedrock of globalization — will unerringly show overall gains to the economy through such trade. Open bilateral trade plays to each country's respective strengths, the theory goes.

So it is with ECFA, where the winners are expected to be Taiwan's capital-intensive industries such as machinery, and China's labor-intensive industries, such as handmade leather shoes.

"China has a huge market and Taiwan has a relatively strong industrial base," said Taipei-based Standard Chartered economist Tony Phoo. "So more cross-strait trade and investment flows will be positive for both China and Taiwan's economy."

Researchers at Taiwan's Chunghua Institution for Economic Research prepared a study for the government showing that cross-strait trade liberalization could add 1.65 percent to 1.72 percent to Taiwan's GDP, create a net of 260,000 jobs and lure nearly $9 billion in new foreign direct investment in the seven years after the deal is inked.

Of course, such economic models say nothing about how such goodies are distributed within a country. Taiwan's opposition echoes a frequently made argument that, more often than not, the gains will go mostly to large corporations, padding top executives' salaries and shareholders' dividend checks. A small number of highly skilled workers benefits, too.

The vast majority of workers, by contrast, don't usually notice much change after a trade deal — except cheaper imported consumer goods on store shelves, and the possibility of being pink-slipped if they're unfortunate enough to work in an uncompetitive industry.

Even some investment bankers caution that the benefits of ECFA, if it's signed, may not be immediate. Negotiations are reportedly bogged down over what to include in a so-called "early harvest" list of industries to see the first tariff cuts. China and Taiwan are still gunning for a late-June deadline.

But that means ECFA could well end up being mostly technical agreements — on "rules of origin," dispute settlement and the like — with harder tariff reduction talks scheduled for later on most items.

"In the longterm it should be very beneficial, it will remove a lot of obstacles," said Tay Her Lim, of investment bank CLSA, about the deal.

"But like any fundamental change, it will take time, and ECFA is just the first step," said Lim. "ECFA is just a small little piece of the puzzle."

Original site

Taiwan debates trade pact

Weighing the costs in Asian trade talks

International Herald Tribune, May 12, 2010

YONGKANG CITY, Taiwan — In a dimly lighted factory off a dusty road in southern Taiwan, Liao Li-hsin, 29, smacks a leather sandal into shape.

He pulls a shoe from a pile, snugly inserts a bright yellow plastic fake foot, and gives the leather straps a few thwacks with a hammer. Then he tosses the sandal on a pile and repeats.

Mr. Liao is one of tens of thousands of workers making shoes in Taiwan, mostly for consumers on the island.

As negotiations move ahead on a Taiwan-China trade deal that could lower tariffs on handmade shoes and hundreds of other products from the mainland, fears are mounting that the island’s traditional industries — like shoemaking — may suffer, even as high-tech, financial services and other sectors gain from freer access to the giant market across the strait.

The government, however, contends that the benefits would far outweigh the costs, and Taiwan’s president, Ma Ying-jeou, hopes to use the agreement to fully normalize economic relations with Beijing while expanding the island’s access to other markets.

“We can handle diplomatic isolation,” Mr. Ma said last month, “but economic isolation is fatal.”

The Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement, the Ma administration says, would be a prelude to similar deals with Malaysia, Singapore and, eventually, Japan or the United States. “Once E.C.F.A. is signed, we want to sign other free trade agreements and try to use mainland China to link with international markets,” a trade official involved in the negotiations, Hsu Chun-fang, said.

In recent years, Taiwan has watched as rivals like South Korea have signed free-trade deals throughout Asia, becoming more competitive in industries like machinery making and pushing their per capita gross domestic product ahead of the island’s.

Taiwan has been hampered in negotiating similar agreements because Beijing views the island as a part of China and objects to other countries’ signing formal treaties that could strengthen Taiwan’s claims to independence. The island has trade deals only with five Latin American countries, which buy a tiny slice of its exports.

The economies of Taiwan and China are already connected. Taiwan has invested $150 billion in China since the early 1990s, according to a Taiwan government estimate. About 40 percent of Taiwan’s exports already go to China, where they face average tariffs of 9 percent. Half of those exports are semifinished goods that are shipped to factories for assembly and other value-added services and then re-exported, according to Mr. Ma.

Yet many of the details remain vague, and that has fueled economic as well as political worries.

The pro-independence opposition says the deal would make Taiwan’s economy too dependent on China and would help conglomerates at the expense of small companies. It is gearing up for protests and is likely to employ stalling tactics in the legislature, where it holds 33 of 113 seats.

The opposition Democratic Progressive Party says the agreement would worsen income inequality and would not create jobs. It says the negotiations lack transparency and that the deal is politically dangerous given China’s goal of unification with Taiwan.

“China is always ambitious when dealing with Taiwan,” said Hsieh Huai-hui, deputy director of international affairs for the opposition party. “So we wonder if sovereignty has been the price for China opening its market for Taiwan.”

Mr. Ma’s government has sought to allay fears by insisting that the deal would not allow mainland workers into Taiwan or remove restrictions on mainland agricultural imports — at least at first. As for shoes, the government says they are not on the list of sectors to see the first tariff cuts.

The government says it will establish a 10-year fund of 95 billion Taiwan dollars ($3 billion) to help traditional businesses compete. Officials have identified 17 industries, including shoemaking, as particularly vulnerable. A special “Made in Taiwan” consumer label has been developed to promote high-quality products made locally.

The government has promoted a study that it sponsored that found that cross-strait trade liberalization could create 260,000 jobs and add 1.65 to 1.72 percent to Taiwan’s G.D.P., depending on the scope of changes.

Economists and research groups affiliated with the opposition dispute that forecast.

In a report on the trade agreement, the Standard Chartered bank did not estimate how the deal would affect the island’s G.D.P. but said it would “boost Taiwan’s long-term growth potential.”

The government said most new jobs would be in sectors like machinery, where exports could increase. Most of Taiwan’s machine products are produced for export, and China buys about 30 percent, followed by Southeast Asia at 15 to 20 percent, according to Wang Cheng-chin, president of the Taiwan Association of Machinery Industry.

But Taiwan’s machinery faces tariffs of about 10 percent in China and 3 to 5 percent in Southeast Asia. South Korea, in contrast, has a trade deal with the 10 members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations and now exports machines there tariff-free, Mr. Wang said. South Korea and China are studying a trade deal.

The framework agreement would help Taiwan’s machine makers compete, especially with South Korea, though Mr. Wang emphasized that companies needed more than the trade deal. “First, we need good relations with mainland China,” he said. “Then, after signing E.C.F.A., we can talk with Southeast Asia, the E.U. and other countries.”

Petrochemical companies and automakers like Yulon Motor, which has partnerships with Chinese carmakers, could also benefit.

In the financial sector, recent agreements have paved the way for cross-strait mergers and acquisitions. But Taiwan banks want the framework agreement to give them preferential access that could, for example, shorten the waiting time for doing retail business in renminbi on the mainland.

Ms. Hsu, the trade negotiator, said talks had so far focused on issues like rules of origin, dispute settlement and “safeguard” tariffs that could, under some conditions, be slapped on Chinese imports if they were found to be damaging local industries. The list of sectors to see the first tariff cuts was likely to be “very limited,” she said, without giving details.

Past cross-strait agreements have become law after 30 days without legislative debate or a vote. But Ms. Hsu that said because the framework agreement was so wide-ranging and involved tariff cuts, more legislative involvement was required by the Constitution, though the exact process remained to be negotiated.

Though the opposition does not have the votes to block a deal, lawmakers could stall it with filibustering tactics. Taiwan’s legislative speaker often tries to broker compromises on crucial bills out of respect for the minority. One opposition party has proposed a referendum on the agreement; that application is under review.

To drum up public support, the government has begun a media campaign that includes rap videos and advertising. Mr. Ma and the opposition leader, Tsai Ying-wen, tangled over the agreement in a widely watched television debate last month.

Ms. Tsai accused Mr. Ma of recklessly pushing through a deal, saying he was creating a “false sense of urgency” when careful study was needed. The biggest difference between the ruling and opposition parties, she said, was that “we want to face China together with the world,” while Mr. Ma’s party “wants to go through China to deal with the world.”

But most commentators declared Mr. Ma the winner with his upbeat, folksy pitch to the cameras.

Accusing Ms. Tsai of lacking faith in Taiwan companies’ ability to adapt and compete, he asked, “Are we going to choose self-confidence, or are we going to choose fear?”

Original site

Taiwan's real-life Sopranos

A Taiwanese godfather known as "Fool-face" goes out in style.

Global Post, May 4, 2010

TAIPEI, Taiwan — They came by the thousands to pay their respects — politicians, Buddhist nuns and hundreds of tough-looking guys in black.

The object of their veneration: Lee "Fool-face" Chao-hsiung, a top godfather of the Taiwanese mob who died in March.

Lee went out in style last week, his body carried to a crematorium in a 108-car convoy of Rolls-Royces, Mercedes-Benzes and Beemers. As a nervous phalanx of police rolled videotape, the cream of Taiwan's underworld filed past, joined by scores of politicians, female models and chanting, robed nuns and monks from the island's top Buddhist groups.

Like their counterparts the world over, Taiwan's gangsters boast colorful nicknames and truck in drugs, gun-running, prostitution, human trafficking, construction firm kickbacks, petty extortion and other racketeering.

But what sets Taiwan's wise guys apart from their Sicilian or Japanese brethren is the extent of their open involvement in political and religious life. No event better highlights that tangled web than a mob funeral like that of "Fool-face."

"Some gangsters aren't so bad, and have close relations with political parties and local religious factions," said Chiu Hei-yuan, a sociologist at Taiwan's Academia Sinica. "That's a part of Taiwan society."

In Taiwan, gangsters don't just "buy" politicians, they become them. About 15 to 20 percent of local township and county councilors and township heads are gangsters, or "heidaoren" (people of the black way) according to Chao Yung-mao, an expert on Taiwan politics and the mob at National Taiwan University.

The numbers are especially large in rural central and southern Taiwan, where traditions and old-boy networks still run strong.

He said about four or five gangsters hold office in the national legislature, and one wise guy even held a powerful county commissioner seat.

Chao dates the mob's big move into politics to the 1980s, when illegal lottery fever swept Taiwan and gangsters were looking to get a cut of the action. "That was a good time to get into politics, so you could host the games and make money," he said.

"Fool-face" didn't hold elective office. Instead, he made a name as a trusted judge of underworld disputes, earning him the moniker "Big Fool-face" in his later years, according to the China Times. He was a top figure in the Tiandaomeng, or Heavenly Way Alliance, a "super-group" of local Taiwanese gangs formed by top mobsters while they were jailed together in a crime sweep, said Chao.

Heavenly Way's underworld competitors are "Mainlander" gangs like the Bamboo Union with roots in the 1940s Kuomintang exodus to Taiwan; that rivalry was the backdrop of a recent hit film "Monga."

Gangsters also have indirect pull on politics, leaving office-holders bound in ties of obligation. They can help mobilize votes, through "vote-buying" or intimidation. That can be important in a close election, said Chin Ko-lin, an expert on Taiwan organized crime at Rutgers University.

"For a politician, what are you going to do, take the risk of losing an election?" said Chin. "And not many people will criticize you for showing up at a gangster's funeral."

The politicians in attendance at Fool-face's farewell included more than 10 legislators, the legislative speaker (who doubled as the head of Fool-face's funeral committee), the local county commissioner, the local city council head and a prominent mayor, according to the China Times. The mayor said he was there to show gratitude for Fool-face's $630,000 gift to the city.

The don also donated large amounts to Buddhist groups, which isn't a surprising development. Gangsters here attempt to influence religious life. One mobster-turned-legislator runs a famous temple in central Taiwan, not far from Fool-face's home turf. Chiu, the sociologist, says he has difficulty explaining to foreign colleagues how local people could accept this. (Imagine a Michael Corleone who doubles as a congressman and also runs a prominent local Catholic church.)

Chiu suspects it has something to do with Taiwan's casual take on religion. "Taiwan folk religion is so secular. It's not sacred," he said. Rural Taiwanese worship a jumble of Taoist, Buddhist and folk figures, and gods who don't answer prayers are promptly kicked to the curb. Temples are rowdy places, with cell phone ring tones mixing with the clacking sound of divination blocks hitting the ground.

Gangsters also have strong support in their home communities, usually poor farming or fishing villages, said National Taiwan University's Chao. They make their money on the sins of the city, while doling out cash, favors and "face" to their loyal and affectionate hometown crowd.

"They take care of their home communities, and only 'hunt' or do something illegal in urban areas," said Chao. "That's why they can win elections."

Chao said gangsters' political reach distorts Taiwan's democracy and hurts society. He cited poor-quality construction and the appointment of gangster cronies to local government posts as just two examples.

But he was hopeful that change is coming, even if slowly, as rural traditions fade.

"Urbanization is a big challenge for the mafia world," said Chao. "Young people don't care as much about 'guanxi' [personal networks of obligation] — they care about a politician's performance. That's a good environment for change."

Just don't tell that to Fool-face.

Original site

Mob funeral captivates Taiwan

Mobster's funeral draws the great and good

AOL News, April 27, 2010

TAIPEI, Taiwan (April 27) -- How big is organized crime in Taiwan? Very big indeed, judging by the attendance at this week's funeral of a top mob boss, which drew prominent politicians, Buddhist monks, TV variety show celebrities and foreign dignitaries.

Gangster Lee Chao-hsiung died last month of liver cancer at the age of 73. The 108-car funeral procession conveying his body to a crematorium Monday included a Rolls-Royce hearse, Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs. Fetching female models carried large signs announcing each delegation in what amounted to the closing ceremony for an Olympian of Asian organized crime.

It was believed to be the island's biggest ever gangster funeral, with more than 20,000 attending and lines of spectators stretching for more than a mile.

"He was the big boss, and it's natural that many gang members want to bid a last farewell to him," said an assistant to a Taiwan legislator quoted by Agence France-Presse.

What was perhaps more remarkable were the other guests. They included the island nation's legislative speaker, who doubled as head of the funeral committee; a prominent mayor; and more than 2,000 chanting Buddhist monks and nuns.

Why all the reverence? Though details of Lee's past were scant, he was known as an arbiter of underworld disputes. He helped negotiate the safe release of several kidnapped politicians, according to AFP.

And then there's the money. He donated just under $2 million to four of the island's main Buddhist groups and to his native city of Taichung, according to the the Apple Daily. Donations at his funeral yielded another $1.6 million for charity, even after deducting $1.2 million to cover the funeral costs. It's not clear to whom or what that money will go, the Apple Daily said.

"Everyone pushed me to lead the funeral committee," Taiwan's legislative speaker told Taiwanese reporters. "I think he has a benevolent heart," said Taichung's mayor of the deceased wise guy.

Gangsters play an ambiguous role in Taiwan society, with many engaging in both criminal activity -- "the black path" in Chinese parlance -- and legitimate business ventures, or "the white path." They are often enlisted to arbitrate business disputes.

"In Taiwan it's not a big deal to be associated with an underworld figure," said Chin Ko-lin, an expert on Asian organized crime at Rutgers University. "In fact, a lot of people are even proud of it."

Gangs have long had close ties with big businesses and politicians, and moved into the construction and entertainment industries in the 1990s. Chin said some Taiwan politicians enlists gangsters' help at election time and attend funerals and other functions to tighten bonds.

"They want the support of the Taiwan underworld," said Chin. "It shows that the whole issue of 'black-gold' [corrupt] politics is going to continue to exist for a long time in Taiwan."

Monday's funeral drew a star-studded cast from Taiwan's underworld, according to the Apple Daily. They included a top figure from the Bamboo Union, Taiwan's largest gang, leading a 500-mobster delegation; the head of the Heavenly Way Alliance with another 500 wise guys; and Four Seas head Chang "Brother-man" Jian-ying, with 300 gangbangers.

Gangsters from Japan's feared yakuza and Hong Kong and Macau triads also made a showing.

Large-scale mob funerals are a regular occurrence in Taiwan and are generally tolerated by police. A 2007 funeral put to rest former Bamboo Union leader Chen Chi-li, who had spent his latter years in a luxury home in Cambodia after serving time in Taiwan for his role in the murder in California of a Taiwanese journalist. One of Taiwan's top pop stars attended that large service.

But Rutgers University's Chin said that Taiwan cops were unhappy with an ostentatious funeral of a top Four Seas gang boss, and since then have worked out funeral guidelines with gangsters.

As a result, youths under 18 were not allowed to attend Monday's funeral. The police detained 148 such kids and called their parents to come get them, according to the Apple Daily.

Original site

Beef-storm hits Taiwan

US beef imports rear a very ugly head. Cow patties are on the menu, too.

Global Post, April 23, 2010

TAIPEI, Taiwan — Is the tongue an internal organ?

That's the timeless question that gripped Taiwan this week, as the issue of U.S. beef imports once again reared its ugly head.

The spark was Taiwan officials' statement Monday that U.S. beef tongues, testicles, tails and other choice bits are not "internal organs" and therefore not included in a ban on some U.S. beef products passed in January. This meant such imports would be allowed, albeit with close inspections.

That led to an outcry from opposition lawmakers, who accused the government of being sneaky, and splitting hairs.

Just a day later, Taiwan's government flip-flopped, saying it now "suggested" that Taiwan firms not import tongue and some other U.S. beef bits for the time being, until public worries are addressed.

The issue is ostensibly about health concerns over mad cow disease and its human variant. But it's been politicized by opportunists looking to bash President Ma Ying-jeou's government, as well as critics of Ma's governing style. America's top diplomat here said as much this week to Taiwan reporters in remarks aired on Taiwan TV.

"It's unfortunate that some people, for political reasons, are making this into a new issue," said William Stanton, head of the American Institute in Taiwan, which handles U.S.-Taiwan relations in the absence of formal ties. "I eat beef tongue myself, and I don't think it's a problem."

In fact, U.S. beef has become a political issue across East Asia. After North Korean nukes and the value of the Chinese yuan, it's one of the biggest headaches for American diplomats.

It all started in 2003, when a single cow in Washington State tested positive for mad cow disease. The brain-wasting disease is linked, through tainted beef consumption, to variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease (vCJD) in humans. There's no known cure, and it's fatal.

Japan, then America's No. 1 export market for beef, promptly enacted a ban on U.S. beef after the finding. Taiwan, South Korea and other countries followed suit.

Since then, the U.S. has insisted its beef is safe and pressured Asian countries to re-open their markets — with mixed success. Japan opened its market to some imports in 2006, only to tighten up again after banned bone parts were found in shipments from the U.S. Tokyo recently announced it would re-open beef talks with the U.S.

Taiwan's political beef-storm hit last autumn, when the government announced it had inked a deal with the U.S. to relax its ban and allow some imports. Protesters were furious that Ma's government had not consulted with the legislature or communicated with the public on the issue first.

Perhaps the most notorious of the anti-U.S. beef protesters was Chu Cheng-chi, a grad student in sociology at Taiwan's top school, National Taiwan University. Incensed by the government's move and frustrated at protesters' inability to change policy, he decided drastic tactics were in order.

So he went to Yangmingshan, a cowfield-dotted, scenic mountain area north of the capital, and collected a cow patty. He then took a video camera-toting friend to the Presidential Office, propped up a table, and proceeded to fix and eat (with ketchup) a cow-dung burger. See his film here:

Under pressure from protesters like Chu, ruling party and opposition lawmakers and the media, the government backtracked. The legislature passed a law keeping a ban on U.S. beef products believed to be most at risk for mad cow disease, including ground beef, skulls, eyes, intestines and other organs.

On the day that law passed, Chu got a large tattoo on his back with a clenched fist and the words "The people stand up," in Chinese.

In an interview this week, he insisted he really ate cow-dung, saying, "I decided we needed a more special and personal way to make our demands known."

He agreed that the beef issue had become politicized. But he said the latest flap again showed the Taiwan government's contempt for the public.

"They didn't talk to the legislature or people first. They didn't communicate," said Chu. "The people's feeling is that the government doesn't respect us, and that it's trying to sneak these products into Taiwan."

Chu ticked off a list of concerns about U.S. beef. He said there was no cure for vCJD, and that consumers couldn't avoid risks by skipping beef, since tainted beef parts could make its way into other products.

Moreover, he said, the large-scale U.S. beef industry, with its huge machinery and chemical fertilizers to grow cow feed, is environmentally unfriendly. "It takes up so many resources," he said. "It's such a wasteful product."

Meanwhile, U.S. beef exporters, powerful U.S. politicians in beef-exporting states and U.S. trade officials have grown increasingly frustrated with Taiwan and other Asian trade partners. Trade officials this week said they were "deeply disappointed" at Taiwan's planned inspection process, and other U.S. officials insisted American beef is safe.

No vCJD cases have been linked to consumption of U.S. beef. (Of three known U.S. cases of vCJD, two were "likely exposed" in the United Kingdom, and the third was "most likely" infected as a child in Saudi Arabia, according to a recent U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention fact sheet.)

And American officials cite a 2007 ruling by the World Organization for Animal Health that U.S. beef was safe for export "provided that certain slaughter and beef processing conditions are met." They note that there's been no case of mad cow disease in any U.S. cow born after 1997.

But it's hard to convince the Taiwanese public, especially when they can watch a cow-dung-burger-eating protester instead.

Original site

Strait of confusion

Sure, ECFA is important. Just don't ask any Taiwanese to explain it.

Global Post, April 6, 2010

TAIPEI, TAIWAN -- It may sound like an infectious disease. But for Taiwan's government, ECFA is the tonic the island's economy desperately needs.

ECFA is a proposed trade deal — or economic cooperation framework agreement — between China and Taiwan. First mooted last year, it was in the news again in recent days as more talks were held at a swank resort south of Taipei. Taiwan hopes to ink the deal by June.

Too bad most Taiwanese can't figure out what it's all about.

"I don't really understand ECFA," said Julia Hsieh, 32, who works in the hotel industry in Taipei.

"I don't know what the real impact on Taiwan will be after we sign it. We already have a lot of economic exchanges now, so what difference will ECFA make? There's an advantage for the government, but not necessarily for normal people."

She's not the only one in the dark. According to a recent poll by Taiwan's pro-independence opposition party, 78 percent of Taiwanese are stumped by the deal.

That puzzlement is a problem for Taiwan's China-friendly president, Ma Ying-jeou. He wants the economic pact in order to seal his record as a peacemaker in the Taiwan Strait ahead of a 2012 re-election bid. But Taiwan being a democracy, he also wants the public on board.

So the government has launched a PR campaign to boost support for the deal, complete with hip ads shown on TV and the web. Last December it was a rap-techno video that put lyrics about banned Chinese agricultural imports to a throbbing dance beat.

A couple weeks ago the government released another ad, this one with a foreigner dressed as the God of Fortune, trying to get into Taiwan's locked doors.

Inside, a young man tries to convince an elder to support ECFA, saying that otherwise Taiwan could become an economic pariah like North Korea.

After much brow-knitting, the elder finally says "yes," the family cheers, the doors are thrown open and the Caucasian god of fortune strides in.

"The god of fortune means foreign investors," said a government official who was not authorized to talk to the media. "That's why we got a foreigner to play that part."

ECFA would lay out rules of the road for further cross-strait economic cooperation and tariff cuts. It's also expected to include an "early harvest" list of trade items to see the first cuts.

According to a government-backed study, the deal could help bring in nearly $9 billion in foreign investment and boost Taiwan's GDP. Pro-ECFA economists say the deal is Taiwan's ticket to the Asian free trade party.

"Every other country has signed agreements with other East Asian countries," said Liu Bih Jane, vice president of the Chung-hua Institution for Economic Research, which conducted the ECFA impact study for the government. "Only Taiwan and North Korea have been left out."

But the government's slick PR efforts don't seem to be paying off. According to the most recent poll from the pro-government TV channel TVBS, only 35 percent supported ECFA, down 11 percent from six months ago. Meanwhile, 32 percent opposed ECFA and the rest had no view.

The government's up against two big hurdles in selling the deal.

First is the distrust many Taiwanese feel about China. Despite its recent goodwill gestures, Beijing still has hundreds of missiles pointed at the island and an explicit goal of political unification. In a recent poll, 53 percent of Taiwanese listed Japan as their favorite country, with only 5 percent choosing China.

Mistrust of China was on display last week, as a small group of protesters scuffled with police outside the trade talks venue, and held up banners calling for a referendum on the deal.

The second hurdle is that talking seriously about ECFA involves mind-numbing jargon about rules of origin, WTO obligations, even the "Heckscher–Ohlin model" of international trade.

No wonder a lot of Taiwanese can't be bothered to figure it all out.

"It's a subject for professionals, most laobaixing [regular people] don't really understand it," said cab driver Chen Ji-hsin. "We don't know what it has to do with our lives, and whether it's good for us or bad."

Original site

Film highlights 'white terror'

Political hit-jobs. The mob and the military in cahoots. Welcome to 1980s Taiwan.

Global Post, February 28, 2010

TAIPEI, Taiwan — Gangsters kill a Taiwanese-American professor in cold blood in the U.S., then flee back to Taiwan.

An FBI agent follows the killers' trail across the Pacific to Taipei, where he's shocked to discover the perpetrators had links with the government.

It's the plot of a new political thriller called "Formosa Betrayed." But the movie based on real events, including the 1984 murder of Taiwanese journalist Henry Liu in his home in Daly City, Calif., by thugs acting on orders from Taiwan military intelligence.

The film, released in the U.S. on Feb. 26, shines a spotlight on a troubled chapter of Taiwan's history that's little known beyond its shores.

"Formosa Betrayed" brings to the screen the early 1980s peak of the White Terror. That's Taiwan's name for the authoritarian Kuomintang's monitoring, harassment, imprisonment and in some cases execution of its political enemies during the martial law era from the 1940s to the 1980s.

Taiwan threw off martial law in 1987 and democratized. But it has yet to confront all the ghosts from its past.

In many cases the truth remains buried, with government files sealed and perpetrators still walking the streets unpunished.

Taiwan's experience mirrors those of similar countries wrestling with the sins of autocratic fathers. Think Chile's Pinochet, or South Korea's Park Chung-hee.

It also holds lessons for today's authoritarian China. Beijing uses methods straight out of the KMT's playbook, and has updated White Terror techniques for the 21st century with widespread cell-phone tapping and cyber-snooping.

Turning point

Before the mid-1980s, Washington turned a blind eye to the KMT's harsh methods because it was a staunch World War II and anti-communist ally — the supposedly "free" China.

But Henry Liu's assassination was so brazen it couldn't be ignored, said veteran American journalist Melinda Liu, who covered the story for Newsweek.

"When it became clear that some Taiwan authorities were willing to export dirty tricks to American soil, that raised alarm bells," wrote Liu in an email. "Taipei's supporters in Washington could not easily defend murder and other violations of American laws when they occurred on U.S. turf."

The U.S. Congress became more active in pressing for human rights in Taiwan, and passed a resolution that Henry Liu's killers be extradited to the U.S. for trial (Taiwan rejected that). Such pressure helped nudge Taiwan toward democracy.

Will Tiao, one of the actors and producers of "Formosa Betrayed," helped raise more than $6 million for the movie from Taiwanese in the United States and Canada. He said the film had touched a nerve in the community.

"Many of the investors and supporters of the film were directly affected by the events of the White Terror period," wrote Tiao, himself a Kansas-born Taiwanese-American, in an email. "Most of them were spied upon or asked to spy upon others. Many were blacklisted. Some were arrested or their families arrested. And some had worse things happen to them."

"So this film is very personal and emotional to them because it's really the first time they have gotten a chance to tell their story to a worldwide audience. For some, it's been a healing process."

Debating history

In Taiwan, people still can't agree on how to heal. Some in the old KMT's machine of repression have reinvented themselves as democrats. Their supporters say Taiwan should move on. Cynics say past KMT sins are too often used by the opposition to score political points. And for most young people, it's all ancient history.

But the era is still fresh in many people's minds.

Social work professor Karleen Chiu recalls how scared she and other students were in 1981 when a visiting Taiwanese-American professor was found dead on her college campus in Taipei, just hours after a marathon interrogation session by KMT secret police. (An official probe ruled the professor's death a suicide or accident, which many found hard to swallow.)

Later, Chiu was a graduate student at Ohio State University when Henry Liu was murdered. Even on American soil, Taiwanese students were scared silent, afraid to talk to other Taiwanese who might be KMT informants.

"You didn't even talk to your roommates about that (Liu's murder) because you didn't know which side they were on," said Chiu. "You didn't want to be blacklisted. You might not be able to come back to Taiwan. The fear was always there."

Historian Chen Yi-shen said that government files that could expose the truth of cases such as Henry Liu's remain sealed; only those pre-1980 have been opened. Chen is among those who aren't willing to simply forget the past.

"Only if you know the truth can you have forgiveness," said Chen, of Academia Sinica's Institute of Modern History in Taipei. "If you don't have the truth, how can you resolve this history?"

Chen said there wasn't enough known evidence to prove that high level KMT politicians ordered Henry Liu's murder. It's possible that over-zealous military officials acted on their own.

"It's like raising a dog to be very fierce," said Chen. "Sometimes you can't control it, and it can run off and bite people."

KMT military intelligence's role in the killing only came to light because one of the gangsters, Bamboo Union leader Chen Chi-li, aka "King Duck", made secret tape recordings to protect himself, and gave them to a friend in Texas. King Duck served less than six years in jail, and later lived high on the hog in a luxury home in Cambodia.

Liu's murder, and similar cases, led professor Chen and a group of others to quit the KMT, and publicly burn their party membership cards.

"We all changed in the 1980s," said Chen. "How could the government kill people like this? We thought staying in the KMT would be shameful."

Pursuing justice

In addition to opening government files, Chen and others have pressed for a national human rights museum funded by the sale of KMT property, not taxpayer money (KMT legislators cut funding for that project, he says). He says Taiwan needs special legislation for trying White Terror abuses as government crimes against the people.

And he points to South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission as a possible model for Taiwan to follow.

He and others had high hopes in 2000 when a government of former democracy activists and human rights lawyers took power, only to be disappointed by that government's inaction. He says the current president, the KMT's Ma Ying-jeou, only pays "lip service" to the subject with ritual apologies. "No power transfer, no transition, no justice," said Chen, shaking his head.

Now, Chen says he's on Beijing's blacklist for his pro-Taiwan independence views. He's barred from visiting China, and says a technician traced spyware on his computer back to Beijing.

"Now the CCP is doing what the KMT did," said Chen. "They're just lagging behind by 30 years."

Original site

Chen gets life sentence

The former president will likely appeal the decision in what local media have dubbed the trial of the century.

Christian Science Monitor, September 11, 2009

Taipei, Taiwan -- Taiwan's former president Chen Shui-bian was sentenced to life in prison for corruption and perjury today, in the latest development in what media here call the "trial of the century."

Mr. Chen received additional sentences for money-laundering and taking bribes, and a $6 million fine. He's expected to appeal the district court's decision.

Chen's wife, former first lady Wu Shu-jen, also got a life sentence, with a 20-year sentence handed down to a key Chen aide, and lighter prison sentences for Chen's son, daughter-in-law, and others.

The case has gripped Taiwan for more than three years, becoming a public soap opera in which every move of Chen's extended family has been scrutinized and debated. But "scandal fatigue" has also set in, as the case has dragged on.

"Society isn't focused on this issue," says Hsu Yung-ming, a political analyst from Soochow University. "They care more about the future, under a new cabinet."

Taiwan reshuffled its cabinet Thursday in a bid to calm public anger over the government's response to typhoon Morakot.

Chen's case began as allegations of misuse of a special fund for Taiwan's diplomacy, but then snowballed into charges involving millions of dollars moved through a complex web of shell companies and foreign bank accounts.

Some observers in Taiwan and abroad have criticized the handling of the case. Leaks to the media have been constant. A weekly tabloid correctly predicted Chen's life sentence, lending credence to complaints of loose lips in the judiciary.

Chen has also been in on-and-off detention since last November, including a month's detention without charge – treatment some see as excessive. His Democratic Progressive Party has repeatedly called for his release.

Chen himself declined to appear in court to hear his sentence. He continues to describe the case against him as a witch hunt, claiming he has been targeted by the ruling Kuomintang for his outspoken, pro-independence views.

Last August, he admitted that his wife had wired more than $20 million abroad. But he claimed the funds were leftover campaign contributions, not dirty money.

As president from 2000 to 2008, Chen constantly irked China – and the United States – with his brash trumpeting of Taiwan's independent democracy. Beijing rejects the island's claim to sovereignty, insisting Taiwan is Chinese territory that must return to the fold.

Relations between China and Taiwan have improved since May last year under the China-friendly president Ma Ying-jeou. Unlike Chen, Mr. Ma has sought to avoid offending Beijing and pursued closer cross-strait commercial ties.

Chen is now unpopular with most Taiwanese. Kuomintang supporters have long reviled him, and many of his own former supporters were dismayed by the corruption charges. They say he has sullied the party's image and set back the independence cause.

But a hard-core group turned out to protest the court decision Thursday. Some 40 police officers and rows of barbed-wire barriers kept a small group of emotional protesters at bay as the sentence was announced. They held yellow balloons and signs saying "Free Ah-bian [Chen's nickname]" and "Unfair Justice"; some scuffled with police.

"I'm not here to support Ah-Bian, I'm here to oppose Ma Ying-jeou," said Chen Yue-chun, a housewife from Taipei. "This is political persecution."

Professor Hsu said that even Chen's party isn't interested in defending his innocence at this point.

"They think he did something wrong, and they don't want to get involved in the legal case," said Hsu. "They want to focus on human rights instead – their bottom line is that Chen should be released."

Original site

Ma does the Cabinet shuffle

The President has been battered by poor handling of typhoon Morakot. His government's focus on good relations with China is unlikely to change.

Christian Science Monitor, September 10, 2009

Taipei, Taiwan -- Taiwan formally replaced most of its Cabinet Thursday in a bid to appease public anger over its response to last month's deadly Typhoon Morakot.

The mass resignations followed Premier Liu Chao-shiuan's surprise announcement Monday that he would quit.

On Thursday, the defense, economics, and foreign ministers and other officials stepped down and their replacements were sworn in.

Analysts say the new lineup is unlikely to change the China-friendly President Ma Ying-jeou's cross-strait or economic policies. Rather, the shakeup was damage control by a president who's seen his approval ratings plummet.

"In order to save the king, you have to give up some generals," said Shih Cheng-feng, a political analyst at National Dong Hwa University. "I don't see much fundamental policy change."

The reshuffle comes after weeks of scathing criticism that the government had a slow and disorganized response to flooding and landslides in the wake of typhoon Morakot. Some 700 people died, many buried alive under avalanches of mud that were triggered by torrential rains.

President Ma put Premier Liu in charge of the disaster response, keeping a low profile in the days immediately following the storm. Ma has been widely condemned, even by some in his own party, for failing to declare a state of emergency, not fully mobilizing the military and showing poor leadership.

The outcry reached critical mass a few days after the storm, creating the biggest political crisis to date for Ma's presidency.

Image booster or smooth talker?

The new cabinet will be headed by Wu Den-yih, a former mayor of Taiwan's southern port city Kaohsiung, and vice-premier Eric Chu, considered a young, rising star in the ruling Kuomintang.

Analysts say Mr. Wu was tapped to restore the government's public image with his communication skills – an area where the old Cabinet got especially poor marks. But some southern Taiwanese also call him "white thief"; a derogatory phrase implying he's an untrustworthy smooth-talker.

The more popular Mr. Chu, the new vice-premier, is being groomed as a possible successor to Ma as the KMT's next presidential candidate.

"He wants to keep a low profile for now, but that [a presidential run] is quite possible in the future," says Liao Da-chi, a political analyst at National Sun Yat-sen University.

The US-educated Chu is known for pushing an airport free-trade zone during his seven-year stint as a county commissioner. He's seen as an expert on finance and accounting.

Top focus is still good ties with China

Both men are expected to continue to push Ma's business- and investor-friendly policies, which include the centerpiece agenda of calming relations with rival China.

China sees Taiwan as part of its territory, to be retaken by force if need be.

Ma's predecessors riled Beijing by trumpeting the self-ruled island's independence. But Ma has sought to avoid irking China and has pushed a raft of commercial agreements to bind the island's economy closer to China's.

So far, his government has inked deals on tourism, direct flights, and investments with Beijing. Specific agreements on banking, markets, and insurance are expected by the end of the year.

Ma is also pushing for a broader free-trade deal with China, known as an "Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement."

Observers say Ma was also frustrated with his economics team's handling of that deal, and seized the current political crisis as an opportunity to oust them.

The former economics minister came under fire for failing to push the cross-strait trade deal more quickly, confusing the public and then publishing an explanatory cartoon brochure that critics say stereotyped southern Taiwanese as ignorant bumpkins.

"The communication for ECFA wasn't going well, and then they had the problem with the cartoon," says Liao.

Investors reacted positively to the new cabinet, sending the island's main stock index up 1.1 percent to a 13-month high.

Original site

The Dalai Lama show

Far Eastern Economic Review, September 3, 2009

Taipei — Take an exiled spiritual leader seen by Beijing as a “splittist.” Add an island Beijing sees as a wayward province. Flavor with a strong dose of political posturing and grandstanding. The result? The perfect end-of-summer cocktail for Taiwan's sensational media.

Yes, it seems everyone here—and in Beijing—has something to say about the Dalai Lama's visit to Taiwan. One TV station even remarked that Taiwan is becoming a political "Superstar Boulevard" (a popular music competition show modeled on "Pop Idol"). Everyone wants their turn at the microphone—or megaphone, as the case may be.

The Dalai Lama arrived Sunday night for what he insists is a humanitarian mission to comfort and pray for victims of Typhoon Morakot. (See post here on the Taiwan government's apologies for its slow and disorganized response to the disaster). He was invited by a group of local government officials from the pro-independence, opposition Democratic Progressive Party (DPP).

China was the first to weigh in, even before His Holiness had set a sandaled foot on the island.

"The Dalai Lama is not a pure religious figure," said an unidentified spokesman for China's Taiwan Affairs Office, according to a Aug. 27 Xinhua report.

"Under the pretext of religion, he has all along been engaged in separatist activities. When people from all sectors on the mainland are lending a hand to help Taiwan reconstruct and overcome the typhoon disaster quickly, some DPP members have taken the chance to plot the Dalai Lama's visit to Taiwan. . . . Obviously this is not for the sake of disaster relief. It's an attempt to sabotage the hard-earned good situation in cross-Strait relations."

Just in case anyone wasn't listening, Beijing on Aug. 31—the first day of the Dalai Lama's visit—repeated its "resolute opposition" to the visit. (See statement here.)

At the airport late Sunday night, a small but vocal group of supporters of China-Taiwan unification raised a ruckus, shouting at the Dalai Lama "go home" when he arrived at the airport, and scuffling with security guards. From the loud protests shown on TV, you might never guess that only 9% of Taiwanese support unification, according to one recent poll. The quieter majority welcomed the Dalai Lama as a celebrity—sort of a spiritual version of a Hong Kong pop star.

The ruling Kuomintang basically took the same line as Beijing. It slammed the DPP for exploiting a tragedy for political ends. The KMT—now on friendly terms with the Chinese Communist Party—favors closer relations with China. It worries that President Ma Ying-jeou's efforts to cozy up to Beijing may be set back by the Dalai Lama's visit. One KMT bigwig publicly scolded the opposition to stop creating trouble in cross-strait relations.

The pro-KMT United Evening News went farther, engaging in fear-mongering about the potential backlash from China. On its front page Monday night, it said China “might” cancel group buying trips to Taiwan by Chinese businessmen, postpone an agreement on cross-strait financial exchanges and a cross-strait trade deal, and temporarily ban mainland tourists from visiting Taiwan.

Nervous pro-KMT commentators also noted that China had canceled an opening ceremony Monday marking the start of regular cross-strait flights, and canceled or postponed other events. And others have suggested that the Dalai Lama's visit was related to China's decision to boycott the Sept. 5 opening ceremony for the Deaflympics in Taipei.

The DPP dismissed such talk, saying China would have boycotted the Deaflympics opening ceremony regardless—just as it snubbed the World Games opening ceremony back in July. And the cross-strait flights ceremony would likely have been scotched anyway, with such a party deemed unseemly while Taiwan was still mourning typhoon victims.

The Dalai Lama, for his part, appeared to take all of the controversy in stride. He praised protests against him as a healthy mark of a free society, in an indirect jab at authoritarian China. And he insisted his trip to Taiwan had no political agenda.

More than 17,000 people who packed a hall in Kaohsiung Tuesday morning to see him lead a prayer ceremony seemed to agree. His message of compassion and spirituality resonated with many southerners still reeling from the effects of the typhoon.

So will the Dalai Lama's hurt cross-strait relations or not? China says it will have an "unfavorable" effect. But that's more likely rhetoric than reality. Chinese companies, too, benefit from more cross-strait commercial exchanges. And Beijing is for now aiming all its venom at the opposition, not at the KMT.

In fact, the KMT confirmed it had sent a representative to Beijing to exchange views on the Dalai Lama's visit, in an effort to contain the political fallout. That means the two governments likely have an understanding on where Beijing's "red lines" are regarding the visit.

So far, President Ma and officials in his government have declined to meet with the spiritual leader—unlike his visits here in 1997 and 2001, when he met two sitting presidents. As long as Taiwan's government keeps up that "good behavior," the current political storm will likely pass.

"In the short term the visit may be harmful, but not in the long-term," said Li Peng, a professor at Xiamen University's Taiwan Research Institute. "If nobody in Ma Ying-jeou's government meets the Dalai Lama, maybe the Chinese government will just make comments—nothing more."

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Dalai Lama visits Taiwan

The Tibetan leader said his visit to comfort typhoon survivors was purely humanitarian. But will his visit harm China-Taiwan ties?

Christian Science Monitor, August 31, 2009

TAIPEI, TAIWAN – The Dalai Lama toured storm-lashed southern Taiwan Monday, at the start of a politically charged visit to comfort victims of Typhoon Morakot.

The Dalai Lama insists his visit has only a humanitarian purpose. “There's no political agenda,” he told reporters Monday. But his presence has nonetheless touched off controversy.

China brands the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader a "splittist" and loudly protests against any nation hosting him.

Beijing is especially irate this time around, as the Dalai Lama is visiting the self-governed island it considers a Tibet-in-waiting – an inalienable part of Chinese territory destined to return to the fold.

China sees twin troubles

The Dalai Lama has close contacts with Taiwan's pro-independence Democratic Progressive Party, and local DPP leaders invited him for the current visit – his third to Taiwan since 1997.

Beijing sees the Dalai Lama and the DPP as separatists-in-arms. “The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) has ulterior motives to instigate the Dalai Lama, who has long been engaged in separatist activities, to visit Taiwan,” said an unidentified spokesman for China's Taiwan Affairs Office, according to a report published on its website.

“We resolutely oppose this and our position is firm and clear ... The Dalai Lama's visit to Taiwan is bound to have a negative influence on the relations between the mainland and Taiwan.”

In Taiwan, the Dalai Lama brushed aside those allegations. "Someone asked me to come and share their [typhoon victims'] sadness," he told reporters. "So that's my main reason to come here," he said.

Typhoon Morakot tore across the island from Aug. 7 to 9, dumping record amounts of rain and triggering floods and landslides that killed 571, with 106 more missing and presumed dead.

On Monday the Dalai Lama led prayers at Shiaolin, a mountain village where several hundred were buried alive under a massive landslide.

Dalai Lama backs closer cross-strait ties

The Dalai Lama restated his position that he was not seeking Tibet independence or separation, and added that he thought Taiwan "should have very, very close relations with mainland China."

Since 2002, the India-based Dalai Lama has pursued a so-called "middle way" in talks with China, seeking greater autonomy and religious freedom for Tibetans through non-violent methods. The latest round of talks last year, however, ended without agreement and with frustration on both sides.

Meanwhile, some fear the Dalai Lama's controversial visit could be a setback for cross-strait relations, just as those relations had begun to enjoy a period of unprecedented warming.

Under Taiwan's China-friendly President Ma Ying-jeou, the island has, since last summer, inked a raft of cross-strait economic deals and sought to avoid irking Beijing. Mr. Ma's Kuomintang party has sharply criticized the opposition for playing politics with the Dalai Lama's visit.

Li Peng, a professor at the Taiwan Research Institute of Xiamen University, says China will be watching to see if any Ma government officials meet with the Dalai Lama. If so, "China will react very strongly," said Mr. Li, but otherwise would likely limit its response to verbal protests.

"It depends on what the Ma Ying-jeou government does in the next few days," said Li.

‘Get out!’

A small group of supporters of Taiwan-China unification protested at the airport upon the Dalai Lama's arrival. Some scuffled with security guards, and their shouts of "get out" alternated with Dalai Lama supporters' shouts of "welcome." On Monday in southern Taiwan, another small group held up a banner and chanted in protest against the visit.

Meanwhile, the Dalai Lama's hosts on Monday scaled back the visit, canceling a press conference this morning and two lectures scheduled for today and later this week.

For his part, the Dalai Lama appeared unfazed by all the controversy. Asked by a reporter what he thought of the protests, he said, "I love it – that is the indication of freedom of expression. Very good."

"I'm personally committed to the promotion of democracy," he said in remarks broadcast on Taiwan television. "So different opinions, different views, expressed without fear – wonderful."

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