Taiwan, 2001: This Is What Democracy Looks Like

by Joshua Samuel Brown

Wong Jyeh deliver her blistering pro-environment, anti nuke speech

Until 1987 Taiwan was a one party dictatorship, ruled by martial law. Political and social activism perceived by the authorities as threatening to the status quo was labeled "treasonous." Rallies of the sort being held by the Taiwan Greens, not to mention the ones being held all over the country by Taiwan's mainstream political parties (including the KMT, or Kuomintang, former martial law masters, whose current party image now offers both reform and a return to traditional values) were inconceivable, unless they were initiated by the ruling party itself. Would-be activists like Ms. Wong had the choice of holding their tongues, or going into exile abroad (either forced or self-imposed).

Even Wong Jyeh's method of delivery would have been verboten before 1987. During martial law rule, Mandarin Chinese was the only language in which political dialogue was conducted, if such dialogue was allowed at all. But in 2001, all of these old rules are part of a distant, long gone dynasty, and Wong Jyeh is free to deliver her blistering pro-environment, anti nuke speech in Taiwanese, Hakka, or even one of the aboriginal languages spoken on the island. Today, Wong Jyeh is speaking a mixture of Taiwanese and Mandarin, with a few English expletives thrown in for good measure.

(Mandarin) "Taiwan Power tells us that that nuclear power is as safe! (Taiwanese) They are liars! Do they think that we've forgotten how they poisoned us in the past? (Mandarin) 'Besides,' they tell us, 'Taiwan needs more power to fuel economic growth' (English) Bullshit!"

Taiwan's national power company, sometimes called Taipower, had been planning for some time to build a fourth nuclear power plant on the northern tip of the island, a plan that was widely supported by the ruling KMT party. However, many Taiwanese are deeply mistrustful of Taipower's competency; Taiwan's nuclear industry has been beset by numerous accidents and mishaps, including one in 1999 which an overloaded truck full of radioactive waste overturned (the driver was later found to be drunk,) and another this year in which a damaged fuel rod was placed in a reactor (the mistake was noticed in time, and the rod replaced).

However, Taipower's reputation was blackened beyond recovery in 1992 when it was leaked to the press in 1992 that rebar contaminated with Cobalt-60 had been used in the construction of hundereds of buildings throughout Taiwan. The radioactive rebar, made from old pipes removed from Taiwan's second nuclear power and sold as scrap metal, had been discovered by Taipower years earlier, but covered up by the company. Such facts do not sit well with a large segment of Taiwan's electorate, and Chen Shui-bian's gunpoint flip-flop on the issue of building the fourth nuclear power plant (the KMT, still in control of the legislature, had threatened to bring down the government over the issue) angered many of his supporters.

Environmental issues, once ignored, are another hot topic in Taiwanese politics, and great strides have been made in the area in the past few years. Taipei, whose streets were a constant tangled gridlock of taxis, buses, cars and scooters just a few years ago, is one of the few cities in Asia to see a marked improvement in traffic, thanks to the cities new rapid transit system. As the planning, building and opening of the TRTS spanned several administrations, both the DPP and the KMT are quick to take credit for the boost in quality of life that the city has bestowed upon Taipei dwellers.

Taiwan has changed for the better in other key environmental areas as well. Foul air has been made less so by the recent nation-wide switch to unleaded gas, and Taipei's recycling and trash reduction program is proving to be a model system, one that will likely be instituted island-wide. So while Taiwan's environmentalists rightly bemoan the president's forced acquiescence on the construction of the fourth nuclear power plant, they certainly have much to show for their efforts of the last several years.

Whereas anti nuclear demonstrations in previous years have drawn crowds estimated to be in the tens of thousands, this rally draws fewer than a thousand people. Nonetheless, it presents an interesting microcosm of Taiwan society as a whole, both ethnically and politically. In addition to DPP members, hardcore Green Party supporters are there in force. These include older Taiwanese, supporters of Taiwan independence who no doubt experienced persecution in the bad old days, University students, who, having come of age in the post martial law era, might still bear childhood memories of being forbidden to speak Taiwanese in their public schools, and a few of Taiwan's minority aboriginal peoples, who have been fighting for years to keep their once pristine lands from being used as the nuclear industry's dumping ground.

It is not surprising to see Taiwan's Greens marching together with the more mainstream DPP. Of Taiwan's major parties, the DPP is considered to be the "pro environment" party. Obviously, the lines often get blurred, and, as Chen Shui-bian found out, having convictions and being able to act on them are two different things. With Taiwan's legislature firmly in the hands of a very hostile opposition, president Chen Shui-bian needs all the friends he can get.

That economics is a major factor in the newfound CCP / KMT relationship should come as no surprise. While the DPP's environmental convictions might be considered wishy-washy, nobody questions the pro-business leanings of the KMT. They are, after all, the world's wealthiest political party. While Taiwan's economy has been deteriorating over the past few years, China's economy shows no sign of slowing down. Indeed, many young Taiwanese business school graduates see their future fortunes being made, not in Taiwan, but in Shanghai, Guangzhou and Xiamen. Many KMT candidates are "playing the business card," calling for Taiwan to "hitch its boat to the mainland," and remove all barriers to cross strait trade. This is a message that may hit Taiwanese voters, living through the worst economic downturn in decades, right where it hurts. The KMT has always shown great aptitude in making money in any situation, right down to looting every bank they could on their retreat from the mainland in 1949. And since both the KMT and the CCP have, for years, professed the same goal -- a reunified China, including Taiwan, marching together under one flag. Under whose flag, and to what tuneÉ therein lies the difficulty.

The possibility of this sort of partnership is the stuff of nightmares of many of Taiwan's pro-independence activists. Hunted as "splittists" for years under martial law, these activists can have no illusions about the difficulties they'd face in a post-unification Taiwan. But even politically moderate Taiwanese, only now beginning to savor the fruits of democracy, might look with suspicion upon a Taiwanese political party seemingly too eager to jump into bed with the CCP.

This may seem an unlikely place in which to air such grievances. First, the American government has little say in the internal energy policy of the Taiwanese government, and second, it's Saturday, and the building is closed.

So where is the American connection?

The answer, or at least the immediate one, concerns the events of September 11 in New York City. Wong Jyeh speaks again to the crowd, to the empty embassy building and the police guarding it.

(Mandarin) "After the events of 9/11, can we afford not to consider the possibility that Mainland China would attack a nuclear power plant? (Taiwanese)Are we crazy? Of course, the government tells us, 'don't worry, the Mainland would not dare to attack a power plant' (English) More bullshit!"

While she speaks, marchers hold aloft a paper mache model of the proposed fourth Nuke plant, but one with an airplane sticking out of its ruptured dome. The words "Air China" are written on the plane, and a Chinese flag painted on the tail (possibly to avoid confusion with "China Air, which is a Taiwanese carrier). The very fact that the writing is in English indicated that this segment of the rally was meant to elicit American sympathy.

There are no signs, and no rhetoric, directed at the more obvious American / nuclear connection -- that the reactor for the plant would be provided by Westinghouse, an American company.

"We do not wish to single out any American company," One marcher says "Rather, our aim is to appeal directly to the American government to apply pressure to our own. Formerly, warfare of this sort -- civilian airplanes being used against civilian targets -- was unthinkable. But now, we hope that America, having experienced this tragedy at home, will be sympathetic to our fear that Mainland China might target our own nuclear plants."

To some, the Green's strategy of linking an anti-nuclear protest to the tragedy of 9/11 may seem like simply a cheap way to get extra publicity. However, the attack has special significance to the Taiwanese, who have long felt that America's formidable military might deter the Mainland from making good on its many threats to bring Taiwan back into the fold by any means necessary. But the events of 9/11 -- a devastating attack on American soil, perpetrated by a vastly inferior opponent -- have made many Taiwanese think twice about their protector's invulnerability. America, once a seeming fortress, has been rendered "Touchable". At best, some Taiwanese see Americas military being stretched too far to be able to protect Taiwan, should push come to shove. At worst, some see a possibility of a "Czechoslovakia" scenario, in which Taiwan is used as a bargaining chip to secure Chinese support for American military interests.

"America has always been Taiwan's friend, even while paying lip-service to China," says one elderly man, who identified himself as a "pragmatic supporter of Taiwanese independence." "But everything has changed now. If America needs to call on China's help to fight Bin Laden, China will certainly demand concessions. Many people worry about how that could weaken America's resolve to defend Taiwan."

To some Asia watchers, used to the choreographed riots seen so often in South Korea, the dramatic and often bloody changes in regimes in the Philippines (in which successor arrests predecessor,) and the anarchy which engulfs Indonesia in sporadic bursts, Taiwanese democracy might seem dull, and the marcher's tactics, hopelessly naive.

Protest marches and die-ins make for good press, but nobody in their right mind would believe that the KMT -- a politcal machine with over half a century of consilidated power and billions of dollars at its disposal -- could be forced from power by ballot alone.

Two weeks later, that's exactly what happened; on December 1, Taiwanese voters hit the polls in droves. When the votes were tallied, the KMT, once Taiwan's sole legal party, found themselves reduced to minority party status in a country that they once ruled with an iron grip.