Cross-strait relations have witnessed great fluctuations since the early 1990s. Before that time, the relationship was by and large frozen. Under President Lee Teng-hui, Taiwan mapped a new course, one that skillfully reconciled the Republic of China’s sovereignty and the functional necessities arising from a sharp increase in cross-strait contact. The institutional foundation (National Unification Council, Mainland Affairs Council, and Straits Exchange Foundation) was laid, and policy orientation (Guidelines for National Unification) specified.
With the termination of the Extraordinary Period of Communist Rebellion and the lifting of martial law, Taipei forwent military solution to cross-strait stalemate. Lee’s government recognized the Chinese Communist Party as the de facto authority that controlled mainland China, and showed willingness to reach a modus vivendi with it on cross-strait exchanges. What followed were the secret envoys that the two sides sent to each other, the “1992 Consensus,” and the talks in Singapore between Taiwan’s SEF and its mainland counterpart, the Association for Relations Across the Taiwan Strait. That was the high point of cross-strait relations, a point the two sides failed to revisit for the following 15 years.
Cross-strait relations went all the way down from the mid-1990s. Lee’s visit to the United States was followed by the missile scare, the KMT’s “go slow, no haste” policy on investment to the mainland, and the “two-state” thesis that brought cross-strait relation to the breaking point. President Chen Shui-bian’s inauguration ushered in a period of even greater volatility, as Taiwan independence had long been the ultimate goal of the Democratic Progressive Party. During his eight years in power, Chen alternated between reconciliatory and defiant tones to the mainland, between stressing status quo and advocating Taiwan independence, usually following Taiwan’s electoral cycle. For its part, Beijing refused to give Chen any credit in improving cross-strait relations, adding to Chen’s frustration and prompting his radical reactions. Put together, cross-strait relations were put on hold for more than 10 years until 2008 when the KMT made a comeback. All of a sudden, everything changed.
The ROC’s President Ma Ying-jeou is much more acceptable to Beijing than his predecessor. Even though Ma also claimed that Taiwan independence was a legitimate option for the people in Taiwan, his party had no intention of pursuing that option. To Beijing’s disappointment, Ma is neither interested in unification, at least not in his term as president.
Nevertheless, he is the best Beijing can hope for under the circumstances. Furthermore, Ma promised to improve Taiwan’s economy by resuming ties with the mainland. Here the two sides found common ground. What followed from this consensus was remarkable, not the least of which was the joining of the Taipei Zoo by Tuan Tuan and Yuan Yuan, the two giant pandas from Sichuan Province that charmed Taiwan’s children and their parents. The recalcitrant tone in the past was replaced by the most amiable.
The upbeat climate reminds one of the early 1990s. That was the only period of time when cross-strait relations were on an upward curve. The euphoria then was no less than what one witnesses at present. There are unmistakable similarities. In both cases realistic considerations, such as economic interest, prompted the two sides to reach a compromise. Again in both cases the political formula for such compromise is the “1992 Consensus” and “one China with different interpretations,” although Beijing emphasizes the “one China” part while Taipei insists on “different interpretations.”
Ma played an important role in the process, both now and then. He was deputy director of the Mainland Affairs Council when the 1992 Consensus was reached. Despite his young age, Ma was a key figure in the creation of the institutional infrastructure for cross-strait affairs. Now he maps a new course by redirecting the country back to where it stood in the early 1990s.
President Ma was recently criticized for referring to the “Taiwan region,” and downgrading Taiwan’s status from a sovereign nation to a geographical or administrative region. That was an unfounded criticism, as Ma merely stated the legal formula he helped design in the early 1990s that survived the eight years of DPP rule and have remained valid. The formula insisted on the unity and sovereignty of the ROC, but recognized the division of the nation into the Taiwan and the mainland regions, with the former under the jurisprudence of the ROC government, while the latter under the de facto control of the communists. The essence of this formula is to yield de facto recognition to the CCP party-state without undermining the ROC’s sovereignty. It was a compromise between ideal and reality, and Ma was one of its main framers.
For Ma and the KMT, going back to the old formula is definitely not a concession to Beijing. It does not hurt Taiwan’s status. It merely reasserts the ROC and rejects Taiwan independence. The amazing thing is Beijing finds Ma’s formula so much more amicable than Taiwan independence that it is willing to adopt policies that favor Taiwan and improve cross-strait ties. For Ma this is a real bargain as he traded what he had always wanted (preserving the ROC) for Beijing’s favorable policies.
If the current rapprochement can be compared to the one in the early 1990s, then one naturally wonders what caused the collapse of the early compromise, and whether such factors exist today. The fatal blow to the early rapprochement came when Beijing found it unbearable that Taiwan scored diplomatic points under the compromise.
The improvement in cross-strait relations tended to give foreign countries the impression that it was acceptable to respond favorably to overtures from Taiwan and to upgrade bilateral ties. As Taipei’s diplomatic isolation began to melt, Beijing found it necessary to react strongly, hence the backlash.
In the early 1990s, Lee skillfully manipulated Taiwan’s image as a nascent democracy compared with the tarnished image of post-Tiananmen Beijing. The culmination of this diplomatic offensive was Lee’s “private” visit to the United States in 1995. Beijing’s initial response was muted, suggesting a lack of consensus on how to respond. However, when the final strike came, it was beyond anyone’s imagination.
Escalation of military tension in the Taiwan Strait brought in the U.S. fleet that served as a deterrent against any possible aggression by the People’s Liberation Army against Taiwan. That was the time of the missile scare. Fourteen years later, another cross-strait rapprochement was reached. Again Taiwan intends to expand its sphere of international activities by reaching a truce with Beijing.
On the one hand, there is tremendous domestic pressure on Ma’s government to deliver on the diplomatic front. On the other hand, Taiwan’s major international breakthrough may be unbearable for CCP General-Secretary Hu Jintao, thus prompting a backlash.
In 1995, then CCP General-Secretary Jiang Zemin was well aware of Lee’s plan to visit the United States beforehand, as the Taipei-Beijing channel was wide open and the message was sent in time. This did not stop Beijing from taking drastic countermeasures to express its displeasure. If an opportunity offers itself today for Ma to stand on the international stage, would the two sides have the political wisdom to handle such an event? This would determine whether the compromise-confrontation scenario of the mid-1990s would repeat itself under Ma’s new course.
The new course may backfire when it proves successful, like the early compromise, but it may also falter if it cannot deliver. Taiwan wants to achieve three major goals with its new course: economic revitalization, diplomatic truce and expanded international space, and peace agreement. Beijing is perfectly willing to help Taiwan achieve the first goal, but what transpires in the end may not be enough to meet inflated expectations, especially amidst the international financial crisis. The second and third goals are more troublesome for Beijing. The current government is definitely not for Taiwan independence, but nor is it for unification. It has moved from the traditional KMT position of gradual unification to sticking to the status quo, with national future to be determined.
Given this lack of commitment to ultimate unification, how far is Beijing willing to grant Taipei international space that may later be used to pursue independence or name change? Beijing is also worried about the DPP making a comeback three or seven years from now and taking advantage of Taiwan’s improved diplomatic and security positions. Before making concessions, Beijing may want to receive concrete promises from Ma’s government that it is committed to unification. Failing that, there could be little progress on the diplomatic or security front. At this point euphoria may dissipate and give way to bitter disappointment.
Even if the new course delivers on all fronts, there may be serious side effects. Increased cross-strait contact may bring about conflicts of interest, bad media coverage, lawsuits and labor disputes. Integration tends to produce not only winners, but also losers. The latter will definitely oppose the new course and any further move toward integration. The increase in all kinds of cross-strait exchange may also give rise to cries of “cultural invasion” and “identity threat” in Taiwan, causing widespread social disturbances.
The new course may falter because it succeeds but fails to deliver, or brings with it undesirable side effects. All these scenarios will bring vehement protest from the opposition and from the social sectors that are most adversely affected. Finally, elections will come that invariably exacerbate political competition and direct the government’s attention toward campaigns.
The government may be branded as “betraying Taiwan’s interests” and find it difficult to sustain its policy. For the new course to succeed, it needs to lower popular expectations, deliver concrete goodies, provide cushion for the losers in the new game, and most importantly explore the diplomatic and security opportunities provided by the thaw without treading over the red line. All this has to be done and bear fruit before the next legislative elections. This may sound like mission impossible, but the government has mandate to drastically alter the nation’s course and the political power to achieve it.
The financial tsunami may have come at a bad time, as it makes it difficult for the new course to deliver. However, economic emergency also gives the government unprecedented power and legitimacy to pursue policies that it deems necessary to salvage the economy. Bold actions can be taken that in normal times can hardly be imagined, including cross-strait initiatives. In short, Ma’s new course is being tested in an environment of high crisis and high capacity. Its success hinges on avoiding the mid-1990s scenario and delivering at tolerable costs in a timely fashion.
Copyright 2009 Wu Yu-shan
Write to Taiwan Journal tj@mail.gio.gov.tw