With its presidential victory in 2000, the Democratic Progressive Party overturned more than fifty years of Nationalist Party rule in Taiwan and changed forever Taiwan's political landscape. Here, a long-time student of Taiwan's politics helps explain what forces and factions shape the party and how it has evolved after two years in power.
Taiwan's Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) has undergone vast changes since its founding sixteen years ago. For years, the DPP was relegated to the margins of politics and society, struggling for recognition and acceptance. It has gradually won that fight, and today it is an acknowledged player in national elections and a leading competitor for political power. It holds both the presidency and one hundred seats in the Legislative Yuan--the largest number of any political party.
In the process of becoming a serious contender for national power, the DPP has seen its internal structures and practices evolve as well. The party has lent new authority to its leadership organs and reinvented its positions on many issues. Some of the party's original members have left in protest of the party's changes; others look from within and see its ideals flagging. Others still embrace the changes as evidence that the party is maturing.
Nonetheless, the DPP has retained many of the qualities that make it alternately exhilarating and exasperating, inspiring and infuriating.
Three Religions and Nine Schools
The DPP was born out of a desire to bring democracy to Taiwan, and it has retained its democratic character throughout its history. The party was founded by an alliance of opposition politicians--who fought the Kuomintang (KMT) in the electoral system--and dissident intellectuals--who used their pens and voices to press for political change.
From the beginning, these two groups had their differences, but they understood that their strategies could complement each other in a movement to advance the cause of Taiwan's democratization. Nonetheless, they never hesitated to air their disagreements; the history of the DPP can be read as a series of public tiffs between moderates and ideologues, politicians and activists.
As the party matured, its leaders sought to mute the conflicts within the organization. The DPP, however, is still a highly democratic organization in which every member is free to speak his or her mind--and most do. Early in Chen Shui-bian's presidency, some observers were taken aback by the forthright criticisms directed at the president from within his party. But while many outsiders viewed these incidents as signs of chaos within the party, Chen's DPP critics, including long-time party official (and current head of the Taiwan Sugar Corp.) Wu Nai-jen, were acting in a way that was true to the DPP's deepest value: democratic participation and free speech.
As Yao Chia-wen, one of the party's senior leaders, has said, the DPP embraces three religions and nine schools of thought. Throughout history, Chinese have followed Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, as well as nine other traditions. Chinese culture does not include a single, exclusive orthodoxy, and neither does the DPP. The result is a party that is not always as efficient as it would like to be, but is always flexible, responsive, and open to new people and ideas.
A Tiger, a Dragon, and a Leopard
Yao Chia-wen also has a metaphor to describe another of the DPP's most notable features, its factionalism. He observes that a tiger, a dragon, and a leopard together in a cage pose a formidable threat--so long as they do not turn on one another.
Observers of Taiwan's politics first predicted the DPP would split just a few weeks after the party's founding. The existence of open factionalism within the party convinced many pundits that the DPP could not hold together. In fact, the party has proven remarkably resilient. Meanwhile the KMT--the Democratic Progressives' main competitor--suffered serious splits in 1993, when the New Party broke off, and in 2000 and 2001, when James Soong and Lee Teng-hui took their supporters and founded the People First Party (PFP) and the Taiwan Solidarity Union, respectively.
When it was founded, the DPP was divided into two main factions, New Tide and Formosa. New Tide's supporters were mostly from the intellectual camp; the faction takes its name from an opposition magazine published by its founders. New Tide is a highly disciplined group, with regular meetings and distinct positions on political issues. It leans to the left: it tends to favor labor rights, environmental protection, and social welfare. It also includes many of the DPP's strongest supporters of Taiwan independence. It was at New Tide's urging that the Democratic Progressives adopted a platform plank calling for a referendum on independence in 1991.
A number of New Tide leaders hold high offices in the Chen administration and at DPP headquarters, including National Security Council Secretary-General Chiou I-jen, Council of Labor Affairs head Chen Chu, and the Taiwan Sugar's Wu. Several DPP legislators are New Tide members, including New Tide's leading theorist, Lin Cho-shui.
The presence of so many New Tide members at the highest levels of party and state leadership has provoked speculation that the government's policies might be affected by the faction's views, especially on cross-Strait relations. However, with the exception of the administration's effort to halt construction of the fourth nuclear power plant, a position supported by most DPP factions, Chen's policies have followed a moderate line. And the New Tide members in the administration have followed the president.
The DPP's other founding faction was Formosa. Its leaders believed the best way to promote Taiwan's democratization was to work through the electoral system. Many of them held elected posts in local government, as well as the National Assembly and the Legislative Yuan. As the party's role in government expanded, the Formosa faction split into a number of new factions--among them, the Justice Alliance, Welfare State Alliance, New Century, and New Energy--most of which joined a cross-factional coalition, the Mainstream Alliance, after Chen's election.
Differences of opinion are inevitable in any large organization, including political parties. Most political parties try to suppress these differences, which forces like-minded party members to pursue their interests in underhanded ways. Although the KMT has never tolerated open factionalism in its ranks, it has a long history of de facto factionalism, and its two splits can both be attributed to its failure to balance and accommodate factional differences.
The Democratic Progressives have avoided splits in part by using factions to mediate conflicts within their ranks and preserve party unity. In 2000, the KMT's decision to give its presidential nomination to Lien Chan instead of James Soong precipitated a devastating rift in the party's ranks. On the other hand, disappointed would-be DPP nominees have quit the party, but they have not taken with them their entire factions, because the mechanisms of factional negotiation have worked to convince DPP politicians that the nominating process is reasonably fair.
With the exception of New Tide, DPP factions do not have distinct ideologies or issue preferences. Their primary contribution to the party's activities is in the electoral arena, where they coordinate nominations and assist candidates with their campaigns.
Factionalism in elections is inevitable in Taiwan, given its electoral system. All representatives are elected in multi-member districts. Parties hoping to maximize their share of seats in elected bodies must nominate two or more candidates in each district; in effect, party brethren are a candidate's closest competitors. Under the circumstances, political parties are hard-pressed to help their nominees, both because of the expense involved and because it is impossible to convince competing candidates that the party is acting impartially. As a result, both the KMT and the DPP have allowed factions to take on the job of campaign coordinators for their nominees.
Learning to Lead
The Democratic Progressive Party overcame many obstacles to achieve its current status: martial law, political persecution, electoral fraud, disillusionment, and many others. However, the toughest challenge they have faced may well be learning to govern. Before Chen Shui-bian assumed the presidency in May 2000, the DPP's foibles had consequences for the party itself, but did little to hurt the society as a whole. When DPP leaders attacked one another in public or advocated positions guaranteed to turn off large numbers of voters, well-wishers winced, but more in sympathy than real pain.
Since Chen's presidential inauguration, however, the DPP's weaknesses have had repercussions beyond the party's own political fortunes. Above all, the DPP has been unable to overcome the resistance of the KMT and other opposition parties to push through its policy initiatives. The result is stagnation.
Given the tough economic situation facing Taiwan today, inaction is especially dangerous. To cope with this dilemma, the DPP undertook internal party reforms aimed at unifying its forces and strengthening the president's hand in dealing with the legislature, bureaucracy, and opposition parties. In keeping with its loose ideology and democratic spirit, the DPP's original structure avoided creating centers of power capable of dominating the party. In a 1998 book on the party's development, the political scientist-turned-legislator Kuo Cheng-liang wrote, "In all the world there is not another democratic party charter so self-irritating and suspicious of leadership and authority."
The party's original charter established strict term limits for top party leaders, and it opened the highest party office--the chairmanship--to direct election by all party members. But being the DPP head was not always a glamorous job. The Democratic Progressives' headquarters has always run on a shoestring budget, moving from office to office and struggling to meet its payroll. Party employees tended to be young, idealistic Taiwanese willing to work for next to nothing to be part of this new political force.
The party's financial situation changed for the better in 1997 when the government began paying a small stipend to political parties that performed well in elections. Although the allowance stabilized the party headquarters economically, it did little to increase its influence over party members. In fact, the real power in the DPP has always been held by its most successful politicians, especially members of the Legislative Yuan and municipal executives. These individuals enjoy great prestige in the party because they are proven vote-getters. They also have the ability to implement their ideas through their elected positions--a power party bureaucrats lack.
This dynamic meant that when Chen Shui-bian won the presidential election, he immediately became the most influential person in the DPP. However, his actual political influence was not reflected in his role within the party. It quickly became obvious that this would create problems for coordinating the actions of the Presidential Office, Executive Yuan (Cabinet), DPP legislative caucus, and party headquarters.
To solve the coordination problem, President Chen set up a nine-person committee, comprising the president and the vice president, the secretary-general of the Presidential Office, the DPP chair and the secretary-general, the premier and the secretary-general of the Cabinet, and the two leading members of the DPP's legislative caucus. Despite regular meetings, however, the nine-person group failed to resolve the problem, primarily because it provided few opportunities for consultation and debate. Inevitably, the president--the official who bore ultimate responsibility for the government's decisions--dominated the group.
The next attempt to formalize the president's role as de facto party leader came last summer, when the party revised its charter to beef up its leadership bodies and strengthen its organization. The most important reform stipulates that when a DPP member is president, he (or she) will serve concurrently as DPP chair. This ensures that the power of elected office and party leadership will be unified. The reforms also increased the prestige of the party headquarters by putting legislators in charge of its functional departments.
The first test of the 2002 reforms came in November, when President Chen faced a major policy decision on the farmers' and fishermen's associations credit departments. Farmers associations posed two problems for the Chen administration. First, incompetent lending practices produced large numbers of bad loans. Second, many associations had become nests of corruption supporting local political factions--most of which were affiliated with the KMT.
The government decided to address both of these problems at once by imposing government supervision over poorly performing association credit operations. The move had widespread support among DPP officials, most of whom recognized the need to clean up the associations and to redirect credit away from corrupt local politicians and toward needy farmers and fishermen. Many ordinary Taiwanese also were encouraged by the prospect of economic reform.
However, officials in the associations mobilized their members to oppose the reform. Many farmers feared they would lose access to credit altogether. They promised a huge demonstration if Chen did not rescind the measure. With the demonstration looming, Chen met with several municipal executives from southern Taiwan. As representatives of rural areas, they too found the reforms problematic, arguing they would hurt the DPP's political base in rural areas.
In response to these pressures, President Chen pulled back the credit reforms. DPP legislators were stunned; the president made the decision without consulting with the rest of the party leadership. To make matters worse, the association activists did not call off their demonstration; on November 23, more than 100,000 protesters marched in Taipei. The president had overridden his advisors and fellow DPP leaders and overturned his own policy--for nothing. Clearly, the 2002 reforms still have not unraveled the knotty problem of coordinating power within the DPP.
In the wake of the farmers' and fishermen's associations fiasco, the chances that the DPP will consolidate its position as Taiwan's governing party seem remote. Still, the DPP has overcome tougher challenges before, and it has learned lessons more difficult even than this one.
If the Democratic Progressives can repair the damage from this incident and restore confidence in the government--especially by implementing successful policies on economic reform and cross-Strait relations--President Chen still has a chance at a second term. The next presidential election--to be held in 2004--will likely pit President Chen against either a single candidate representing the KMT and the PFP or candidates from each of those parties. If the KMT and the PFP join forces, Chen will have a difficult time overcoming their combined popularity [although the DPP incumbent in the recent Kaohsiung City mayoral election, Frank Hsieh, did manage to defeat a combined KMT-PFP effort].
Political scientists often say a government must balance two key tasks: representing the people and governing effectively. The DPP long ago mastered the art of representation; it is democratic to a fault. But to win a second chance at ruling Taiwan, the party must improve its record on the second key task: effective governance.
Shelley Rigger is the Brown Associate
Professor of Political Science at Davidson
College and the author of two books on
Taiwan politics, From Opposition to
Power: Taiwan's Democratic Progressive
Party and Politics in Taiwan: Voting for
Democracy.
Copyright (c) 2003 by Shelley Rigger.