By now, you’ve probably heard of the president of Taiwan’s decision to abolish the National Unification Council. I say "abolish" because there was a bit of translational hair-splitting on CNN International last night as to whether it was "abolished", or whether it now merely "ceases to apply".
The CNN anchorman seemed a bit hysterical, demanding to know how Chen could be so "reckless" as to abolish the NUC, after China had warned that doing so would cause wars, floods, plagues, and all of those other things that they usually say will happen whenever Taiwan dares to undertake democratic reforms. One should be aware that had Taiwan caved into China’s belligerent threats in the past, it would not now have direct presidential elections, a president from outside the House of Chiang, or a national referendum law (limited though it may be).
In the course of the discussion, CNN did admit that the council responsible for the tempest hadn’t actually MET in 7 years, but strangely neglected to mention that it had an operating budget of a whopping thirty dollars per YEAR. Perhaps they wanted to spare the viewer of the burden of deciding for themselves whether the reaction was just a little over the top. If so, then this would not be the first time it had done so.
(A side note here: am I the only one who finds it a bit rich to hear China crying "Provocation!" over the abolition of a defunct $30 a year council when it adds million dollar missiles WEEKLY to its arsenal targetting Taiwan?)
At any rate, the question of what a country ought to do with its moribund institutions is an interesting one. Any country with any amount of history behind it is bound to have its share of political anachronisms – relics of a bygone age. These it can either abolish, reform, or leave alone.
There are at least two arguments in favor of abolition: cost and the goal of limiting the size of government. In the case of the NUC, obviously the cost argument isn’t particularly relevant. However, if one believes that "government that governs best governs least", then it stands to reason that vestigial institutions like the NUC should be put to pasture once their usefulness expires.
The argument for retention is that anachronistic institutions DO serve a function: they remind us of our history, of where we once were, and of who we once were. I for one, will regret the day that Australia, or Canada, or Great Britain herself becomes a republic. But the NUC is not a visible reminder of the past like the monarchy, nor is its abolition irreversible. Future governments can always reinstate some kind of committee to consider guidelines for reunification if they deem it desirable to do so.
I therefore don’t see a compelling case for retention, but on the other hand, I don’t feel an overwhelming need for abolition. As for the possibility of reform, I don’t see what could be done on that front. The NUC was set up in 1990 and charged with the responsibility of determining a set of guidelines for reunification with China. Its job has been completed – what is there left for it to do? Give recommendations for water conservation policies?*
Now up to this point, all of this assumes that Taiwan can make these decisions in a vacuum, which it most certainly cannot. There is an 800 pound gorilla in the corner to consider. And this beast beats its chest and bellows with rage whenever Taiwan gives the merest hint of a suggestion of a possibility that it doesn’t want reunification. Sure, sometimes (maybe most of the time!) it’s all just an act, but how can you be sure of that with a government that shoots down American planes in international waters and instigates anti-Japanese riots over textbooks used in only 1% of Japanese schools?
When I pause to consider the gorilla in the corner, my thoughts on abolition of the NUC change from indifference to support. First of all, my visceral response to those who would introduce the threat of violence into political discussions is to deny them completely. Showing weakness in the face of of thugs and murderers emboldens them and serves only as an incentive for them to increase their demands. Like howling mobs of Islamic theocrats, the Chinese should be told that they will not be given their way.
My second reason though has to do with the principles of constitutional sovereignty. To surrender to the Chinese on this issue is to give them more than they deserve. Taiwan currently has five branches of government; if the Communist Party of China are granted veto powers then it will have six. Note that it’s not the number of branches of government that are objectionable (although having six branches may indeed be cumbersome) – what IS objectionable is the fact that one of the branches of Taiwan’s government would be unelected and unaccountable to the citizens of Taiwan.
This sixth branch of government would be completely hostile to democratic reform in Taiwan, and there would be no end to the mischief it could cause in any number of areas. Even on questions as seemingly innocuous as full adoption of the Gregorian calendar or the appearance of Taiwan’s former dictator on its currency would be subject to Beijing’s new-found suzerainty. The Taiwanese would be forced to relearn the habits of serfdom as their control over their destiny became more circumscribed.
Finally, it should be recognized by all that the sixth branch does not need to be enshrined in the Taiwanese constitution for it to exist in reality. It does not even need to be physically stationed within Taiwan, when a mere phone call to capitulationist party members might be enough to make them leap to their feet, and perform their masters’ bidding.
* Perhaps President Chen could have reformed the NUC by renaming it the National Empty Symbolism Council (NESC).
UPDATE (Mar 1/06): As mentioned in the post, a proposal for full adoption of the Gregorian calendar in Taiwan and the abolition of the Chinese Republican calendar has recently been mooted. (Taiwan currently uses both calendars.) Accepting the proposal would bring Taiwan more in line with the rest of the world, and would reduce confusion regarding expiration dates for exported foodstuffs.
(It’s currently Year 95 of the Chinese Republican calendar. What would YOU do if you had a pack of dried Taiwanese fruit with an expiration date of 96 or 97? If I recall correctly, I may have previously thrown out some food here myself after looking at the package and exclaiming, "Hey! This stuff was sitting around in that grocery store for the last ten years!")
On the other hand, the transition costs for changing calendars is likely to be fairly high. People would need new driver’s licenses, IDs and legal documents. I’m sure this could be grandfathered in, otherwise it would be a nightmare to have everyone lining up all at once at various institutions to get their papers redone. Prior to this, computer programs would have to be re-written, much like for the Y2K problem. I’ve no doubt that a lot of political scare-mongering will take place over this last requirement, but I think everyone should remember that Y2K came and went, and no planes managed to fall out of the sky.
Of course, the change would be a symbolic act, further distancing Taiwan from its Republic of China past. Pro-independence groups would be happy, capitulationist groups unhappy, and China…well, it’s hard to say. They obviously wouldn’t like the symbolism of Taiwan further rejecting its "Chineseness", but it would be a bit hard for them to oppose this with a straight face, because China ITSELF uses the Gregorian calendar.
David on Formosa has a post on the subject, and laments the politicization of a policy move that seems entirely rational. Michael Turton also has a post, where he points out how media bias affects two newspapers’ differing coverage of the issue.