Taiwan is an island of contradictions. Over the past year, China has conducted multiple military drills around the island of Taiwan, increasing both the frequency and scale to a level not seen in previous years. While the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) surrounds the island from the outside, protesters and civil society within Taiwan stand against laws that would strip the president and constitutional court of their powers—laws that are largely seen as favorable to China (see here and here). This might seem like a paradox: why would the legislature pass laws aiding the country that is currently threatening to invade them?
Yet it is these types of contradictions that abound in Taiwanese politics, making understanding the island particularly difficult. The world will continue to have a vested interest in Taiwan for the foreseeable future, yet many misconceptions abound about Taiwan’s internal politics and its self-identity. A casual observer might assume that the island has a similar attitude to the United States as Japan or Korea – a largely pro-US stance that has only deepened with the rise of China. However, as shown by this past year’s events, many people on Taiwan have deep skepticism of the United States—and are actually more pro-China, and pro-Chinese Communist Party (CCP), than many outsiders are aware. “America Skepticism Theory” (疑美論), the idea that the United States is not a trustworthy partner, is on the rise.
A recent article in the Financial Times argues that TikTok is making Taiwanese youth more pro-China than previous generations. All of these trends point to a longer-term trend that will outlive whichever US president happens to be in the White House. Instead, the cultural, historical and linguistic ties across the strait will always be a lure attempting to reel Taiwan closer to China—a fact that many outside observers often fail to appreciate.
One of the most common heuristic errors in understanding Taiwan is attempting to map ethnic ties over political affiliation. The mainstream narrative is that the supporters of Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) who came to Taiwan in 1949, the waishengren (外省人) and their descendants, support the Kuomintang (KMT)—while the remaining benshengren (本省人) form the heart of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). This may have once been true, but the passing of time and decades of intermarriage have rendered these identities less salient, and most Taiwanese have ancestors who are both waishengren and benshengren. Even then, these identities don’t always map onto political affiliation. For example, when I studied in Taiwan on a Fulbright scholarship, I had one classmate whose grandfather was a soldier in the KMT Army and fled to Taiwan after the Chinese Civil War. Yet his grandfather was brutally murdered by the KMT during the White Terror, forever turning him away from the party and towards the DPP. Similarly, many benshengren believe that the DPP struggles to handle bread and butter issues, and instead turn to a KMT they believe governs more efficiently.
However, what should not be overstated is the latent ethnic pull of China. When Xi Jinping talks about the “great rejuvenation of the Chinese race” (中華民族偉大復興), this appeals to not a small number of people living on Taiwan. Many people on Taiwan still identify ethnically as “Chinese” (華人) even if they identify their nationality as Taiwanese (台灣人). This is in addition to a small but influential minority who directly identify themselves as “Chinese” in a nationality sense (中國人). As well, a substantial portion of Taiwanese people—nearly four out of 10—hold an “emotional attachment” to China, even if they don’t identify as Chinese. When Xi Jinping talks about the rejuvenation of the “Chinese race,” it is targeted at these people.
This emotional attachment manifests itself in a few ways. One example is the traditional religion of Taiwan, which represents another linkage through which China attempts to attract support in Taiwan. Traditional Chinese culture venerates ancestor worship, and it is often through this religious piety that China works to establish ties with Taiwan (never mind that during the Cultural Revolution much of this traditional culture was destroyed in China). Many prominent Taiwanese politicians, such as former President Ma Ying-Jeou (馬英九), go to China ostensibly to partake in these ancestor worship rituals, while also meeting with high level Communist officials. Likewise, the most prominent figure in Taiwan’s traditional religion, Mazu (媽祖), is from Fujian province, right across the strait. The PRC uses these religious ties to promote cross strait relations, as well as remind Taiwanese people where their ancestors originate from. [1] Likewise, when Xi Jinping talks about China serving as Taiwan’s “ancestral homeland” (祖國), there is implicitly a religious component to this statement that Western observers often miss.
Occasionally, this also manifests itself in discrimination against Taiwan’s indigenous people. At one event I attended hosted by the Presbyterian Church (an organization with many indigenous Taiwanese members), group leaders discussed the historical problems that indigenous peoples have faced in Taiwan. One example includes how construction of statues of Koxinga (鄭成功), the first Han conqueror of Taiwan, have often intimidated indigenous communities. Likewise, they discussed the more recent protest movements that resulted in the “rectification of names” (正名) and the reclaiming of places sacred to indigenous peoples. Both of these processes revealed how there are still underlying tensions between indigenous and Han people in Taiwan; these latent tensions remain a source of anxiety for many indigenous leaders that are not present in Han communities. As Taiwan relies heavily on food imports [2], in the event of an invasion or blockade of the island, many indigenous leaders felt that their communities would be targeted by both the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) and ethnically Han communities in search of resources.
In addition, the ethnic attitudes of Han Taiwanese can sometimes result in discrimination and prejudice against foreigners. As a master’s student taking graduate classes in Chinese, I was often the only non-Taiwanese person in the room, allowing me exposure to opinions that other foreigners might not hear. My university, National Chengchi University (國立政治大學), has provided the intellectual foundations for many of Taiwan’s future diplomats and government officials, such as Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) and President of the Legislative Yuan Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜). Historically, it has also served as the intellectual base for the KMT, with many professors serving as advisors to the party. This experience gave me the opportunity to hear professors discuss their opinions of foreigners in a more candid way. In one class, I had a professor state that one Chinese-American scholar’s research was inaccurate because “their Western taste was too strong (西方味道太重),” and would make statements about how all Americans were “ignorant” (無知) about China and Taiwan studies. As I sat there, I couldn’t help but think that this was the intellectual basis for which much of Taiwan’s future leaders would view the United States.
There is also a strong emotional component to the 1979 “betrayal” of America cutting ties with the Republic of China, especially among the older generation. As Taiwan is a graying society, this generation will continue to remain relevant in the short to medium term. In conversations I had with a retired admiral in the Republic of China Navy, he mentioned with vivid detail how his ships were denied port of entry around the world after 1979. With a rawness to his voice, he spoke to me as if it had happened yesterday, and by the end of his story he was choking up. Yet he also spoke of a hope that in the future there could be greater connection between our two societies.
This points to another key idea about Taiwanese political attitudes—the false impression that Taiwanese people are largely unfazed by China’s military pressure. This is true to an extent, but ignores the under-the-surface unease that many Taiwanese people hold. While at first glance, it might seem like everything in Taiwan is normal—people go to work, pick their kids up from school, and continue their lives normally—there is a deep undercurrent of anxiety that permeates society. While in Taiwan, I attended a Taiwanese church; nearly every week prayers for “peace across the Taiwan Strait” were brought up. Likewise, young people feel that the long-term future of Taiwan is unstable, both for economic and geopolitical reasons. One of my professors urged any young person who could do so to try and find employment overseas.
Yet many of these anxieties do not manifest themselves into concrete action. In May 2024, when the PLA suddenly commenced large scale military drills, I quickly turned on TVBS, one of Taiwan’s most prominent news stations, to see reporting on the event. But instead of seeing coverage of the PLA’s largest military exercises around Taiwan in the 21st century, they were reporting on a foreign Youtuber who had come to Taiwan, and there was no coverage of the exercises. Taiwan’s open media environment and proximity to China leave it vulnerable to PRC media interference, and many Taiwanese media companies do business in China, incentivizing them to downplay negative coverage of the PRC.
After developing long-term relationships with many Taiwanese people, I would often ask my classmates and community members what they would do should an invasion occur. What surprised me the most from their responses was not that it was usually some variation of “flee,” but instead the vagueness of their plans (To where? With what? How?). It was apparent that most people have not thought seriously about the problem. Likewise, the government has seemingly abdicated responsibility on civil defense and societal resilience, instead relying on civil society. In my interactions with these organizations, I found them to be highly professional, detailed, and thoroughly prepared. But the issue with this is that these organizations lack legal authority to organize society. Certainly, there are leaders in this field doing excellent work—work focusing on disaster and casualty management, preparing community centers, and raising the consciousness of individuals—but should an invasion occur, they simply are not equipped to help maintain order in Taiwanese society.
Through their hard work and ingenuity, the people of Taiwan have built a wonderful society—a democratic and open society, and one that plays a key role in the global economy. Taiwan was the first society in East Asia to legalize gay marriage, serving as a model of tolerance in the region. Likewise, its democratic society is rated as one of the freest in the region, according to Freedom House. There are many people who are staunchly opposed to unification with China, and will remain so for the foreseeable future. US policymakers must continue to emphasize shared democratic values, and work with the Taiwanese to continue to preserve Taiwan’s de facto independent status. The society the Taiwanese have built is worth upholding and defending—and I hope that most Taiwanese would agree with me.
The main point: Taiwan’s relationship with China will continue to have linguistic, cultural, and historical ties that will continue to appeal to a certain subset of Taiwan’s population. These ties will continue to present a challenge to US policymakers as they formulate a Taiwan policy. A broad, pro-American stance is not something that US policymakers should take for granted.
[1] Ku Ming-chun (古明君) , “Accessibility and Friction: The Mobile Politics of Taiwan’s Mazu Pilgrimages across the Taiwan Strait” (可及與摩擦 : 台灣媽祖進香團跨海峽進香的移動政治 ), Taiwan Society Studies, No. 45, June 2023, pp. 107-150.
[2] Lin, Oscar. “Taiwan Food Security Situation Overview,” United States Department of Agriculture, Foreign Agricultural Service. June 19, 2024.
