Writing for a wire service is not all a grind, as witness this abridged Reuters dispatch, datelined St. Anton, Austria, February 9, 2001. "Pai Win-jack, 36, took his place among sports' pantheon of dreamers and lovable losers at the Alpine ski world championships. A mixture of blind determination and precious little skill produced one of the most entertaining moments of these championships, with Pai snow-plowing his way down the demanding Fang piste, falling three times.... Pai also lost his skis once and his direction twice, but was helped on both occasions by applauding course workers. 'I just wanted to finish,' Pai explained. 'I kept going because all the people were cheering for me, pushing me. In Taiwan there's basically no snow...that's kind of a problem.'"
It is a story to set against the exploits of Eddie the Eagle and the Jamaican Winter Olympics bobsled bid. By chance, it appeared in the Taiwanese press just two days before a story of a very different kind. Morris Chang, chairman and founder of Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co., was invited to address President Chen Shui-bian, the premier, and other officials at a monthly "ideas" meeting. Mr. Chang began by berating the premier for his suggestion that the "knowledge-based economy" was the only path Taiwan could follow and proceeding to list eight "myths" that had gained a dangerous foothold on the island, among them the belief that such an economy will increase the income of every Taiwanese citizen, and that Taiwan's people are full of entrepreneurial spirit. Warming to his theme, Mr. Chang dismissed any idea that merely improving educational standards would solve the problems, noting that the island needed people with innovative casts of mind to meet the demands of the new era.
If Pai Win-jack's misadventures represent the ultimate feel-good story, Mr. Chang's fulminations must surely stand as some kind of feel-bad nadir. In delivering this lecture to the powers that be he was, however, merely aligning himself with a growing band of fellow-travelers for whom the DPP administration can do nothing right.
Nowhere is the sourpuss attitude more in evidence than with discussions of the fate of the island's fourth nuclear power plant. President Chen came to power on the strength of several important campaign promises, one of which was that the plant would not be completed. The Cabinet duly canceled the project. Opposition legislators banded together to reverse that decision, and the plant will now be built. If one believes the Taiwanese press, the only thing the Cabinet managed to achieve by its opposition to the project was to alienate nearly every resident of the island.
At first this barrage of hostility had its amusing side. Then it began to pall. Now it is almost as though somebody is determined to keep the mischief factor at an all-time high. Why is this? Some critics point to the obstructionist attitude of the opposition in the legislature, where criticizing just about everything the government proposes seems to be based on a desire merely to be difficult. But "soreloserdom" can hardly be the whole answer, when most of the island's media are happy to jump on the hostile bandwagon, irrespective of political orientation.
The fact is, ever since Thomas More penned Utopia in the sixteenth century, no government has lacked its share of foul-ups. Former US President Bill Clinton, basking in the afterglow of his eight-year term, must sometimes pinch himself when recalling that during the first year of his presidency he blundered from disaster to catastrophe, witnessing the end of his brave healthcare reform initiative in the process. No matter. He lived and he learned, as did those around him. He slowly gained in confidence and ability. And he left office with a remarkable legacy to his credit, both at home and abroad.
But Mr. Clinton had two advantages. First, he was operating in a fully fledged democracy, with a mature legal system to back it up. With that, contrast Chen Shui-bian's position. The situation he inherited was a difficult one, yet the minute he came to office, everybody expected him to clean up the mess overnight. He rolled up his sleeves and embarked on the task immediately, but expectations far outstripped possibilities.
Mr. Clinton's second advantage was less tangible. He had charm. He knew how to use the "bully pulpit" of his office. He had a knack for bringing people on board. Chen Shui-bian lacks this advantage also. It is understandable that he should want to implement long-standing DPP policies, but he has not reached out to embrace the majority in a way that commands affection. Hostility, yes, reluctant admiration, occasionally--but liking, no.
There is much to like, if only the observers are prepared to abandon their double standards. For example, firefighters recently brought under control a blaze that was threatening huge tracts of the island's most beautiful scenery and wildlife, near Mt. Ali. The operation was conducted swiftly and efficiently, but nobody in the media bothered so much as to say thank you to those responsible, let alone acknowledge that the government might just once have done something right.
Good news is unwelcome, it seems, but someone needs to redress the balance, so here goes. Ovid Tseng, the Minister of Education, is forging ahead with reforms designed to take the pressure off Taiwan's long-suffering high-school students. There are now lawful direct links between the mainland and some of Taiwan's outlying islands. The new task force of young and determined prosecutors charged with eradicating "black-and-gold" politics is prospering in the teeth of pressure from certain quarters to call it a day. The president has made speeches opening up inspirational possibilities for cross-strait dialogue. And, pace Morris Chang, the government does indeed have a coherent policy for encouraging the development of a knowledge-based economy, which it is slowly beginning to implement in fields that range from genome research to genetically improved rice to next-generation microchips like the ones Mr. Chang's own factories make.
These are not perhaps heroic achievements, but they look good when set against the contributions to Taiwan's democratic politics of the past fifty years. People recognize that if Pai Win-jack stays with it, he might one day become a competent skier and win more than just the plaudits of the crowd. President Chen may not yet have Pai's people skills, but he deserves more than a few good-natured cheers.