There are no people for whom the impulses of both Washington and Beijing are more consequential than the Taiwanese. All the same, Taiwan and Taiwanese politics are more than a one-dimensional outgrowth of US–China competition.
International media coverage of President Lai Ching-te’s travails in passing a big hike in Taiwan’s military spending has been extensive. Lai, of the independence-leaning Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), has been frustrated by the Kuomintang-dominated (and more China-friendly) legislature. There have been major signs of progress in recent weeks, however, with the bill now moving through the relevant committee processes.
Issues with defence spending are not Lai’s only headache. He has proven unable to secure appointments to Taiwan’s constitutional court. He is also subject to impeachment proceedings relating to his refusal to enact local government spending changes passed by the legislature last year, though these proceedings are unlikely to succeed. And he is unpopular.
Visiting Taipei for the first time recently, I nagged almost everyone I met about Taiwanese politics. Over a beer one evening in Ximending, someone explained that the street vendors, operating beyond the designated markets, are strictly speaking illegal. It’s not uncommon to be left standing in the street, waiting for your food, as a cart is hurriedly pushed out of sight mid-order while the local police conspicuously amble about. A few minutes later, the carts will be back on the street, and you’ll have food in your hands.
Everyone knows the game; it’s all a bit of a performance. “Taiwanese politics is a bit like that,” was the concluding remark.
Yet even more than needing to factor in plain theatrics – for example, a show of obstinacy towards the legislature from a president many seem to consider stubborn – much of the domestic political commentary could have been pulled from the pages of The Sydney Morning Herald.
Most people vote on economic and local issues, I was told repeatedly. The cost of housing is a major problem in Taiwan. The economy is two-track, with the booming semiconductor sector and an astonishing 8% GDP growth rate masking broader sluggishness and frustration. And don’t forget, this is now a decade-old administration, perhaps getting long in the tooth.
This is still a young democracy – I knew that as a bald fact before visiting, but I don’t think I gave it due weight.
Locals talk with dark humour about Taiwan’s history, when the Japanese were booted out as a colonial power only to be replaced by Chiang Kai-shek and his Kuomintang’s “White Terror”, which was ushered in with the violent suppression of a popular uprising in 1947.
Given this history, the current reality is astounding. On one side is the transformation of the Kuomintang into an enduring force in Taiwan’s democracy since 1996, despite its earlier authoritarian iteration. And on the other is a seeming fondness for Japan. “Taiwanese love the Japanese,” one interlocutor told me with a big smile. That isn’t just a vibe. Last year, there were no fewer than 6.8 million Taiwanese visitors to Japan, from a population of around 23 million.
This is still a young democracy – I knew that as a bald fact before visiting, but I don’t think I gave it due weight. Much is still evolving, quickly and in real time. Not least, there is a fight on for the future of the Kuomintang itself. Lots of things are simply still being worked out, which means they have the potential to break, for better or worse.
It is, of course, tough not to talk of wars and rumours of wars. Asking Taiwanese experts what they might be learning from the Ukraine conflict, I was told, among much else, about “the importance of the long war”. Senior figures spoke of a new focus on “city fighting”, with an acceptance that China’s may well be able to force an amphibious landing and that grinding combat in Taiwan’s conurbations could then ensue.
Everyone tries not to be fixated on such scenarios: various hybrid threats are front of mind. One analyst said to me flatly: “There won’t be bombs.” You don’t have to look hard to find people with sophisticated thinking about the ugly permutations of energy strangulation, cyberattacks, cable-cutting and subversion that would surely be preferable to outright invasion, should Beijing choose escalation.
Nonetheless, conversations about what would be the most bloody, destructive outcomes were there. I’m not squeamish about such talk, but for whatever reason, here of all places it felt bleak and surreal.
Taipei is unpretty, the successful result of a developmental state that rammed through mid-rises and an export industry. I’d prefer if you could get a coffee from somewhere other than Starbucks before 11am. But it is vibrant, plural, chatty, welcoming. I think I ate my weight in leek dumplings. The foothills of the island’s lush mountains are visible in the hinterland. Let’s all hope that the status quo prevails.
