Growing Pains

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Chen Shui-bian's victory in the 2000 presidential election was a landmark event not just for Taiwan but for the worldwide Chinese diaspora. It marked the first peaceful transition of political power through democratic means in the history of Chinese governance. What's more, Chen and his homegrown Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) ended five decades of authoritarian rule by the mainland-transplanted Kuomintang (KMT). Among many of us in Taiwan, there was a palpable sense of refreshing change, as well as hope and pride that little Taiwan could possibly become a model for the democratic aspirations of Chinese everywhere.

It hasn't turned out that way. Even Chen's most ardent supporters must concede that their man has been a crushing disappointment. During Chen's six years in office, the economy has slumped, political reform has stalled, and cross-strait relations with China have pretty much been frozen. Now, amid allegations of corruption against Chen's aides and family members, the opposition has tabled a recall motion in the legislature, where it holds a small majority. The motion needs a two-thirds vote to be carried, which is unlikely. Even if it does pass, it then has to be subject to a public referendum. But just the fact that Chen is facing impeachment—the first Taiwan President to be in such a fix—shows how far he has fallen. Even last week's news that Taipei and Beijing have agreed to increase the number of direct charter flights during holiday periods was not enough to give him a lift.

Chen's troubles have prompted his critics, particularly those on the mainland, to assert that a freewheeling, democratic system is not suitable for Taiwan, and, by extension, for China, Hong Kong and Macau. To be sure, his administration has not distinguished itself, and frequent fisticuffs in the legislature—including the recent image of a legislator chewing the papers of a rival—do not convey a positive image of the island's political process.

Neither the man nor the system, however, are fully to blame. Chen has been ineffective, but he has also been hamstrung by some factors beyond his control. He has repeatedly invited the Chinese to talk with him, and he has refrained from declaring independence, changing the island's name or flag, or holding a public referendum on Taiwan's status—all of which would provoke Beijing. Yet China's leaders have cold-shouldered him because they view him in only one dimension—as a "splittist"—without seemingly taking into account the need for Chen, an elected official, to cater to his party and his supporters. Both those groups are more radical and ideological than Chen, who, in truth, is more of a pragmatist concerned with staying in office than a separatist obsessed with making Taiwan independent.

On the domestic front, Chen's efforts to govern and reform have often been blocked by the opposition-controlled legislature. It has yet to confirm his nominees for president and vice-president of the Control Yuan, Taiwan's highest watchdog body, even though the posts have been vacant for more than a year. It has opposed the creation of an ethics and anticorruption bureau, a bill that would force political parties to be more transparent about their assets, and changes in the judiciary that would make the courts more efficient.

This standoff is rooted in the past. For much of Taiwan's modern history, the island was essentially a one-party state ruled by the KMT, which brooked little dissent. Only in 1986 did then President Chiang Ching-kuo, Chiang Kai-shek's son, allow the presence of an opposition party, only a year later did he lift martial law and government control of the press, and only last year did the KMT properly elect its own party leader for the first time. The KMT is not accustomed to being out of power. Instead of working together with the administration to advance Taiwan's interests, the opposition is merely playing spoiler so it can bring down Chen and the DPP. It's an immature posture to adopt, but it reflects how young Taiwan's democracy is—it is only six years, after all, since the watershed 2000 election.

Seen in that light, Taiwan's current problems are simply growing pains. Taiwan has a lot going for it. Its people are committed to electing their President, lawmakers and local leaders, and are increasingly aware of their right to have a greater say in the governance of their lives—and of their power to kick out officials who don't deliver. The judiciary is largely impartial and the press largely free. These all provide an excellent institutional base on which to build. Taiwan's leaders will come and go, but the island's democracy is here to stay.