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CIAO DATE: 8/01
Taiwan's Democratization Dilemma
On The Issues
June 2000
The current quandary in relations among Taiwan, China, and the United States is a direct result of Taiwan's democratization. But the free elections that have created some new problems for the island should also free it from international isolation.
Taiwan's full-fledged entry into the league of democratic states symbolized by the inauguration of President Chen Shui-bian on May 20, 2000, should, in the medium to long term, greatly contribute to the resolution of issues between Taipei and Beijing. But in the short run it has completely upset the calculations, not only of China but also of the United States. Since the 1970s, both Beijing and Washington have been expecting Taiwan to make a deal with China that effectively ends the dispute about the island's status more or less on China's terms.
Democratization in Taiwan has made such a short-term outcome impossible. Now diplomats are beginning to understand that a genuine solution will be far more complex and less formulaic than expected. But democratization has also brought the promise of a genuine solution, for Taiwan now has a government that can genuinely speak for its people and therefore enter into legitimate and binding undertakings.
The opportunity for genuine settlement, however, is currently undermined and blocked by the current short-term approaches both from Beijing (unrealistic demands coupled with military threats) and Washington (unrealistic expectations coupled with threats to withhold defense). It is time for all concerned to recognize that there is nothing simple or easy about the issues here; their solution will require substance and not mere slogans.
Americans and other westerners should remind themselves that international issues in Asia are every bit as complex as they are in the West. Shared Chinese roots are no more a political panacea in the East than shared European—or even British—roots are in the West. Thus even with the best will in the world, the actual unification of the European Union is going very slowly, but this does not surprise us, for we are accustomed to the idea that European states are complex and that their differences are too. The same is true for China and Taiwan, except that when it comes to them, some westerners still seem to imagine that a primordial, shared, and overriding "Chineseness" makes everything easier.
Since the 1970s America's China policy has not only assumed that a vague shared Chineseness on either side of the strait will make reconciling them easy, but even that it will actually make that reconciliation well-nigh automatic. That has proven to be a simplistic and inaccurate assessment. The easy reconciliation has not happened and is not happening, as these words are written, for the same sorts of solid political reasons that make progress difficult on comparable issues elsewhere.
The Impossible Happens
Few, I suspect, imagined in 1986, when he was in prison for political offenses, that less than twenty years later Chen Shui-bian would be the duly elected president of the Republic of China. The most important reason was not that prison seemed a bad place to start, or disbelief that Taiwan would ever have real elections. The most basic reason was that most observers expected that, by the year 2000, Taiwan would long since have been absorbed into the People's Republic of China (PRC). In 1979 when the United States broke all its official ties with Taipei, such absorption was what much informed opinion expected to happen, after a decent interval of a few years.
Democratization and liberalization are what have saved the island from that fate, and great credit is owed to all who brought that about, both within the long-ruling Nationalist Party (the Kuomintang, or KMT) and in the brave opposition, and to the enlightened U.S. approach that fostered it. The impossible has happened in Taiwan, as it has as well in a host of other states (and I believe will eventually in China as well). But it would be less than candid not to admit that some outsiders are very disappointed with this result and are not yet reconciled to it.
The Inner History of "Normalization"
Why all this should upset Beijing is perhaps obvious. But why also Washington, which is clearly unsure how to respond? Surely Washington favors democracy and furthermore has through numerous oral and written assurances since the 1970s, not to mention legislation, made clear that it will stand by Taiwan?
After all, in our 1970s diplomacy we reserved our positions on basic issues, and with them Taiwan's ultimate interests, rather successfully. Thus we never agreed that Taiwan was part of China (although we "acknowledged the Chinese position" that it was at Shanghai in 1972 in the first of the so-called "three communiques" that define U.S.-Chinese relations). Our position is that sovereignty over Taiwan "remains to be determined"—as was reiterated as recently as 1995. Nor did we take any position at all with respect to Taiwan in the second communique in 1979, which cut all diplomatic relations with the island and established formal diplomatic relations with China. What we did was shift our recognition as the sole legitimate government of all of China from Taipei to Beijing, reserving our position on Taiwan, while repeatedly enunciating an expectation that any settlement would be peaceful, which the Taiwan Relations Act made law.
All that is true, but reality is not so simple. The fact is that within all the careful language and reassurances of the U.S. recognition of Beijing in the 1970s lay a fundamental but never articulated expectation, which was that within a fairly short period of time Taipei would come to terms with Beijing.
Taipei received no forewarning of what was coming, nor was its government consulted about any of the terms. President Jimmy Carter terminated the security treaty after a year's notice, but that step was taken only after objections were raised within the administration to the original plan simply to drop it. The first draft of the Taiwan Relations Act made no mention at all of security relations with the island. The Taipei government was never mentioned, only the people "on" (not "of") Taiwan. Clearly no one was planning on dealing with the "Taiwan authorities" for much longer.
In the climate of the 1970s, such calculation is in fact not surprising. This was the decade when American confidence in democracy dropped to a low ebb and the policy establishment came perilously close to accepting communism as the wave of the future—whether in Portugal (where we despaired—wrongly—of preventing the revolution from turning Stalinist) or Korea (from which President Carter planned to remove U.S. forces) or Vietnam (where the communist victory was taken as signaling a historical trend).
For Taiwan, the shock of American derecognition was expected to provide enough of a push to compel Taiwan's mainlander-dominated government, whose chief claim to legitimacy had always been based on China and not Taiwan, to strike a deal with Beijing. In China, the "one country, two systems" model subsequently applied to Hong Kong was first proposed at this time, with Taiwan as the object in mind. No one expected Chiang Kai-shek's regime to outlive him by very long (he died in 1975).
Three years after derecognition, in August 1982, and only two years after the mutual defense treaty had expired, came a third communique, perhaps the most revealing of the three for the light it sheds on expectations at the time, this one governing U.S. arms sales to Taiwan. China sought the agreement to ensure that Taiwan would fall into her arms by setting a date certain for a complete cessation of U.S. military support. American negotiators agreed to that. Only President Reagan's personal intervention stopped this outcome: he refused any wording about cessation of arms supplies, and as finally agreed the document has China asserting a "fundamentally peaceful" policy toward Taiwan, and the United States in return undertaking gradually to reduce arms sales. In an important codicil President Reagan noted his understanding that the "U.S. would limit arms sales to Taiwan so long as the balance of military power between China and Taiwan was preserved."
This was a very close call, but Reagan wrenched back to balance a negotiating process that even American negotiators had seen as a way to provide the final hard push to Taiwan in the direction of accepting China's "peaceful" terms.
In other words, "normalization" has an inner history. It was portrayed by all involved as an entirely benign process in which Taiwan's interests would be amply assured. But in private, among many actually making the policy, the purpose was to eliminate Taiwan as a problem for the United States by helping China to absorb the island, and the expectation was that the harsh policies of the 1970s would do the trick. Taiwan would cease to be a problem, after a decent interval. That was what normalization was all about and how it was understood in China. We would sacrifice Taiwan, though we hoped and expected that Taipei would help conceal this fact by going quietly. The so-called three communiques mentioned above (1972, 1979, 1982) were intended simply to facilitate this outcome and not, as some suggested at the time, to provide a pathway to continuing U.S. ties to Taiwan.
These calculations were undermined almost immediately in 1979 when Congress passed the Taiwan Relations Act, which did map out a way to maintain U.S. ties, but dreams die hard, and one of the fundamental problems confronting us today is that some people—in China and in the West—still cannot quite accept that Taiwan did not pack up as planned and shows absolutely no sign of doing so now. Indeed, it is probably a good bet that, while the position of general secretary of the Communist Party of China may disappear before too long, as China itself changes politically, the creation of an elected presidency in Taiwan is here to stay.
Expectations Dashed
Now, the completion of Taiwan's democratic transformation, the election as president of a one-time political prisoner running as the candidate of a recently illegal political party, and the peaceful (and on the whole good-natured) transition and surrender of power by the once almighty Kuomintang has changed the whole situation in ways that are sometimes not fully grasped.
To begin with, it has immeasurably invigorated Taiwan. The victory of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) has brought a vast and hitherto alienated part of the Taiwan population—with talents, skills, money, enthusiasm, and a host of other resources—into the midst of practical decision making. The defeated KMT looks likely to emerge from its current stock-taking reinvigorated as well. This process did not of course begin this year: both Lee Teng-hui, the outgoing president, and Chiang Ching-kuo, Lee's predecessor and the son of Chiang Kai-shek, contributed to it through a succession of deliberate, unilateral liberalizing steps, undertaken, it should be noted, in the face of a real military threat from China and without much by way of formal foreign support. For an opposition to have seized the opportunities thus created and won power, however, is a milestone for all concerned.
The new government is far from the isolated and demoralized KMT that some had expected to make their own bargain with Beijing. But even if today someone emerged who wanted to accept Beijing's terms, a Taiwanese Tung Chee-hwa, the current democratic system ensures that he would not be able to deliver a bargain unless the people approved it through their democratic mechanisms. Remember that Tung was never elected to his post as chief executive of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of China: he got his job by Jiang Zemin shaking his hand in front of photographers. That is not how things work in Taiwan. As President Clinton recently put it, any solution will require the "assent," a strong word, of the people of Taiwan.
All of these developments mean that Taiwan's future is now open for discussion and negotiation. Those who want Taiwan to become an independent country in its own right were imprisoned and exiled by Chiang Kai-shek and are anathema to Beijing. But in today's Taiwan they have full political rights. Nor is their goal either illegitimate or impossible: China has long since accepted the full independence of Mongolia, which in the Qing dynasty was controlled by Beijing far longer than was Taiwan. But given Beijing's current seemingly implacable opposition to such a course, however, many have sought some arrangement whereby Taiwan and China could coexist as states in a single nation, rather as the two Germanys did.
President Lee Teng-hui in fact proposed such a solution only to have it denounced by Beijing, despite the fact that "two states in one nation" makes lots of sense. Taiwan is indubitably a state, and "one nation" is what Beijing insists on. Now President-elect Chen has quite rightly raised some questions about "one nation"—or "One China," the much asserted but entirely unexplained policy of both Beijing and Washington. Says Chen, there is confusion in Taiwan (and not only in Taiwan) about what China means by One China, and no consensus exists in Taiwan over the island's status—all of which is true. Legally, however, there is continuity—a continuous Republic of China government, a constitution, a flag, a national anthem—so it is hard to accuse Taipei of unilaterally altering anything.
(A wonderful irony here: neither Washington nor Beijing accords any recognition to the "Republic of China." In the United States the term has been entirely expunged in official usage: for "official name" of Taiwan [which calls itself the Republic of China] in the CIA "fact" book entry reads "none." Yet now they grasp at this discarded name as at a straw, urging Chen not to change it [even though they don't recognize it]. He has assured them that he will not.)
All of this amounts to a very inconvenient set of developments for Washington and for Beijing. Unless one is to establish a "China policy exception" for all concepts of law, legitimacy, comparable treatment, consistency, and so forth, they must be addressed from general principles, not short-term expediency. But to do so now will not be easy.
Beijing's Fear of Democracy
The biggest shock to Beijing from this election, however, was not Chen's victory or even the uncertainty it cast over long-standing aspects of China policy. Rather, what really upset Beijing was the KMT's loss. That a long-time ruling party, originally organized according to the same Leninist principles as the Communist Party, should have been turned out peacefully by Taiwan's voters was deeply unsettling to Beijing.
Fear of democracy, even more than fear of "Taiwan independence," is at the root of the current tension between Taipei and Beijing, and this fact makes achieving real peace more difficult. The most neuralgic comparisons between Taipei and Beijing are not in how they explain One China (if they do at all) but in how they treat their own people.
In China, the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences is being purged to silence some members' eloquent advocacy of liberalization. On Taiwan, the head of Academia Sinica, who long shunned politics, has begun to take a public role. In China, political power is passing to the taizi dang (the princeling party—the children and relatives of the nomenklatura who took power by force fifty years ago and who are now rich). In Taiwan, the new president is the son of the poorest, landless farmers and has risen to the top through talent, determination, and hard work.
Given the increasingly volatile domestic situation in China, it is not so much wordplay about One China but rather Taiwan's democratic example that most inspires fear in the hearts of the rulers in Beijing, and this fact has important implications.
A Short-Term Resolution?
Some influential observers argue that current tensions can be resolved fairly easily by means of a compromise that simultaneously meets China's demands for "unification" while assuring Taiwan that it will continue to enjoy all of its present freedoms. That might be the case if the issue were no more than finding an acceptable international status for Taiwan. Word games can help there, as with the Olympics and the Asian Development Bank. But if the problem is Taiwan's democracy, then no fundamental solution is in sight.
If what Beijing worries about is Taiwan's destabilizing example, then a lot more than a verbal formula will be required to fix things. Nothing less will be needed than to bring Taiwan to heel, to force its people to bow, to incorporate its government, perhaps loosely at first and mostly verbally, into a power hierarchy in which Beijing's superiority is acknowledged. To do that will require more than finding words; it will require changing facts. Otherwise, the example of Taiwan's impunity will continue to have an effect inside China itself.
The current situation in Hong Kong supports this analysis. Hong Kong after all is already a Special Administrative Region (SAR) of the People's Republic of China. But that alone has not really calmed Beijing. Letting full democracy and free speech flourish in the SAR would immeasurably boost China's reputation and help build confidence in Taiwan. But it is becoming increasingly clear that what China wants is to get Hong Kong genuinely under control: to halt the further development of democracy, tame the media, and create an economically profitable but politically subservient entity—and this with a territory already fully part of the PRC. The Taiwanese notice this; the rest of the world will not be able to ignore it.
The Real Future
For the moment it is in the interest of all parties to continue to fudge the basic issues in the interests of peace and prosperity. But all must consider the real future.
For anyone who listened sympathetically to DPP arguments about China policy in years past, the current situation is not surprising. One basic argument was: China has a quarrel with the KMT, not with us; get rid of the KMT and they won't care about Taiwan any more. That has proven to be overly optimistic. I am not suggesting that the DPP necessarily alter any of its principles or policy objectives, among them full international status for Taiwan. But it is clear that moving from opposition to governing will mean a change. On this the initial signs are very positive. President-elect Chen has stressed that he is president of all the people and has reached out dramatically to all constituencies in the island, including the defeated Kuomintang, to create an impressively competent and politically diverse cabinet.
For Washington and Beijing (and the rest of the world), it is time to think about what is really going to happen, rather than what they thought was going to happen in the 1970s but did not. Taiwan is not going to disappear. It is, by any standard, a "state," and one with a substantial international profile despite its tiny cross section on official diplomatic radars.
The Chinese policy of attempting to appear alternately forthcoming and threatening has failed abjectly. My own belief is that if Beijing would make better offers, lots of problems could be solved. But the current trend in Beijing, reflecting the volatile domestic situation, is to brook no compromise with Taiwan. Negotiations with legitimate elected representatives of Taiwan's people might, after all, lead to demands that the Beijing government allow the election of legitimate representatives for China's people. Hence the resort to force.
Force, however, will not solve problems; it will only make them worse. Those in China who delude themselves that a series of missile salvoes will somehow bring Taipei t o terms should consider NATO operations against Serbia. The original concept was that two days of bombing, with pauses for Milosevic to reflect, would bring him back to negotiations. The bombing lasted seventy-seven days, still failing to achieve its objectives.
China should also recognize that force against Taiwan would bring catastrophe onto her own head. Markets would be closed, that of the United States most importantly; foreign investment would cease; the economy would slide toward collapse; and the unspoken bargain with the Chinese people, prosperity in return for obedience, would be broken, with results difficult to foresee. Regional powers such as Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Vietnam, and others would begin serious programs to acquire deterrent capability against China: ballistic missiles, weapons of mass destruction, and so forth. Finally, the United States would certainly be involved militarily.
The current situation is, in a certain sense, the result of democracy in Taiwan, because without democracy the island's government might indeed have buckled under. But it is also the result of Beijing's turn away from political reform in 1989, the Tiananmen massacre, and the stirring-up today of crude nationalism as a substitute for political legitimacy. In the short run, reconciling regimes of two such distinct types is impossible.
But in the medium to longer term, a modus vivendi is not only possible, it is well-nigh inevitable. Its shape is not difficult to discern; it is what I call "baptizing the status quo": giving a legal name to what exists, without changing it in any way. That is in everybody's interest. Getting there, however, will require ending the incompatibility that currently exists between short-term management of the relationship and long-term interests. The world, China included, needs to engage Taiwan, not isolate it.
Now there is talk of an American role in mediating between Taipei and Beijing. If this is to succeed, Washington will itself have to accept, and persuade Beijing to accept as well, that no substantive change in the current situation is on the cards. The 1970s expectation that the island would accept some sort of subordinate status within China has proven wrong.
But although Taiwan is clearly here to stay, it today conspicuously lacks an international status commensurate with reality—a fact that is now discussed and debated in Taiwan's democratic politics in a way that Beijing and Washington find rather troubling. But if the rest of the world wants to stop worrying about "independence," then the best solution is to come up with a different status that will genuinely win overwhelming and uncoerced support in the island.
And if democracy is thus part of the problem, it is also part of the long-term solution. In the Cold War, peace in Europe was kept by a mixture of deterrence and discussion. But when communism and dictatorship collapsed, real peace of a kind that simply could not have existed earlier became possible. The same is true for Asia. Democracy makes our allies there even more precious than they were during the Cold War, when many of them were dictatorships and only "free" relatively speaking. We must not attempt yet again to sacrifice Taiwan. Instead, we must work to maintain peace in the present, keeping every form of communication and dialogue continuing, while seeking to create the sorts of conditions in the future (political liberalization in China included) that will make possible in the East the sort of genuine peace that may now be dawning in the West.
Arthur Waldron is director of Asian studies at AEI and Lauder Professor of International Relations at the University of Pennsylvania. An earlier version of this article appeared in the Taipei Times on May 2, 2000.
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