On the Constitutional Crisis and Divisive Budget Cuts in Taiwan
Happy Year of the Snake! Plus, book club on Hisham Matar's My Friends
Today marks the beginning of the Lunar New Year holiday. Happy Year of the Snake! (Scroll to the end for a video of a snake greeting that some Gen Z-ers in Taiwan taught us!) We wish you a joyful and prosperous new year!
For the past couple of weeks, machinations in Taiwan’s legislature have sparked fear, anger, and outrage of the likes that we haven’t seen since we first arrived here nearly four years ago. The catalyst? Something seemingly mundane: budget cuts.
For those who want a more detailed, wonky (and perhaps more even-handed) account of everything that’s transpired, we recommend Kharis Templeton’s expert write-up and New Bloom’s indefatigable coverage.
A disclaimer: if the budget cuts go through through, the proposed cuts will directly affect institutions where we work. At worst, many hardworking individuals we know—earning modest wages—are likely to lose their jobs. At best, our work will be handcuffed. So, it’s hard for us to remain dispassionate.
The big picture takeaway: Taiwan is headed for a constitutional crisis. Since the January 2024 elections, the Kuomintang (KMT, or the Blues) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP, Whites) have held a (slim) majority in parliament, and they have sought systematically to expand their powers beyond what is laid out in the constitution. They have done this at the expense of other branches of government, seeking to paralyze or undermine their functions. What has further enraged the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP, Greens) legislative caucus are the norm-breaking methods by which these bills have been passed—often without any broader consultation or inter-party negotiation.
Numerous fights have broken out in the legislature. Back in May 2024, tens of thousands of people took to the streets to protest the bills that the KMT-TPP alliance rammed through. (We wrote about the protests as they were happening.) In December, the Blue-Whites rammed through a series of bills that make it harder to recall legislators, freeze the constitutional court, and allocate a larger share of the central government’s funds to local governments, which are mostly in the hands of the KMT.
Until about two weeks ago, for most Taiwanese people, the KMT-TPP’s fight was largely theoretical, the most recent episode in Taiwan’s unendingly noisy political scene. The KMT-TPP continued its campaign against the governing DPP by proposing across-the-board budget cuts to the entire central government. One thing that we need to stress at the outset: these cuts happen during a year when Taiwan reported record tax revenues. The government’s proposed budget was actually less than its revenues. In other words, the government wasn't even going to go into debt to pay for its proposed budget. Put simply, we can afford the budget that the executive proposed.
In Taiwan, the executive branch has the power in setting the agenda and budget for the coming fiscal year. The legislature has very few things it can do, so its main method of oversight is to either cut or freeze spending.
So what did the KMT-TPP propose to cut? In an absurd marathon two-day legislative session, it seemed as if the Blue-White coalition didn’t know what it was cutting. Many of the cuts were haphazard, leading to farcical situations where the KMT-TPP pushed a budget cut through on the general floor, only to realize their mistake after the announcement and subsequently attempt to retract it. Later, many of the documents that emerged from the session showed that the KMT-TPP legislators were changing their cuts last minute, leading to confusion throughout.
By the end of the session, the legislature had cut an unprecedented 6% of the budget (in the past, the legislature cut around 1%). That’s more than 200 billion NTD from the proposed budget. We won’t get into the weeds here—if you want to read a full run-down, see Brian Hioe’s solid piece here. But some of the most harmful cuts include 70% of the executive’s operating budget, a 3% cut to defense at the same time that the international community is calling for Taiwan to increase its defense spending, and a 50% freeze on the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at a time when Taiwan desperately needs to do diplomacy. They’ve frozen funding for Taiwan’s construction of submarines, severely cut funding for detection of earthquakes, cut subsidies for public housing, for children’s education, and other social welfare policies. Among its most incredible proposed cuts (and then retractions) included helmets (NT$100 million) for firefighters, because they thought that it was funding meant to enhance preparedness for war.
During its press conference, the Executive Yuan immediately demonstrated the impact of the budget cuts: it typically provides a sign language interpreter, but with its budget frozen, it could no longer afford one.
In sum, what has been breathtaking about the budget cuts are its indiscriminate, across-the-board nature. It’s a full-out assault on the ability for the central government to function to carry out its normal functions. Again, this is happening at a time when Taiwan’s economy is booming (record revenues) and the attention being paid to it is at an all-time high. Even Hakka groups, one of the most reliably pro-KMT voting bloc, came out passionately against the bills, as their Hakka-language programs would have been cut:
Perhaps the most divisive and infuriating aspect of the entire debate has been the reasoning put forward by the KMT-TPP for their budget cuts. About a week ago, KMT legislator Chen Yu-jen—arguably one of the most detestable figures to rise on the national stage, alongside Fu Kun-chi and Huang Guo-chang—proposed slashing the budget of Public Television Service (PTS) by 2.3 billion NTD, leaving it with a mere 1 NTD (roughly three American pennies). When Chen Yu-jen was questioned about the cuts, she claimed that she targeted PTS because it produced television dramas that “distorted history” on ideological grounds.” Here she took aim at the historical epic Three Tears in Borneo, one of the first dramas to depict the lives of Taiwanese soldiers conscripted to fight for the Japanese Empire in Borneo. She claimed that Chen told the entire cultural industry to “quit begging” for money from the government, implying that cultural workers receiving government aid are beggars who can’t cut it in a competitive market.
To defend its cuts, the KMT-TPP has demonstrated nothing but contempt towards Taiwan’s cultural industry, taking a particularly aggressive attack on all things produced by the Taiwanese cultural industry in the past couple of years. It attacked the Taiwanese opera 1624—which our guest writer Jordyn Haime has written about—an ambitious opera that pushes us to re-think the origins of Taiwanese history. It has proposed drastic cuts to Taiwan Plus, the first government-supported all-English news channel that brings Taiwanese news to the world. It wants to ax the Ministry of Culture’s “Black Tide” project, an innovative governmental program that gives Taiwanese artists funding to bring their books, visual art, and other culture to international fairs and exhibitions. (Full disclosure: the Books from Taiwan project that Michelle helps to run receives funding from the “Black Tide” project.)
As you can imagine, people from the culture industry attacked Chen as a “culture killer.” Chen replied by saying that she’s a person full of culture; she said she graduated from the Chinese literature department at National Taiwan University and could memorize all Three Hundred Tang Poems by heart.
Chen’s invocation of Chinese culture to defend her slashing of the entire Ministry of Culture in Taiwan is telling. It was a dog whistle to her base, an attempt to rally deep-blue supporters who have been complaining about the “de-Sinicization” of Taiwan in the past twenty years. But it’s also telling in a different sense. Legislators like Chen Yu-jen simply don't believe Taiwanese culture is a real thing: for them, any attempt to create and develop “Taiwanese culture” is politically driven, manipulated by ideological puppetmasters. For her, only Chinese culture is really culture—or possibly, to put it more speculatively, in psychoanalytic terms, she and her colleagues possess a deep self-loathing cultivated by centuries of Taiwan’s colonization and marginalization. Chen simply doesn’t believe Taiwanese people produce works of value that can be world-class.
And what’s particularly hateful about these cuts—and this is why so many of us feel angry—is that Taiwan’s having an international moment, and the KMT-TPP wishes to cut the wind out of the country’s sails. Since last year, people have been celebrating Taiwan’s wins internationally in unprecedented ways. Jensen Huang, the CEO of NVIDIA, is Taiwanese and one of the most important figures in the tech world. The Taiwan national baseball team won the World Baseball Classic. Taiwanese movies and TV shows—like Port of Lies—are getting funded by Netflix. A Taiwanese author, Yang Shuangzi, and her translator, Lin King, won the National Book Award for Taiwan Travelogue. A Taiwanese author Li Kotomi (李琴峰) won one of the most prestigious Japanese literary awards. Meanwhile, even as China picks off Taiwan’s diplomatic allies one by one, the country’s artistic and economic achievements reinforce its political status as one of the most free countries in the world. That we are the David against the Goliath has become our moral currency.
Instead of rewarding Taiwanese creators and producers for their pioneering work, the KMT-TPP are cutting funding. Chen’s invocation of “Chinese culture” to defend the cuts reflects the fact that she and others simply can't believe—or refuse to celebrate—what our people have achieved.
Meanwhile, the coach of Taiwan’s national baseball team captured the mood of the nation, expressing bewilderment and disbelief at the legislature, which he called “both stupid and evil.” Even after his team’s historic win that caused joyful nation-wide celebrations, the KMT-TPP had proposed to cut funding for international travel for sports coaches.
Last, we think there’s a final explanation for the contemptible acts of legislators. They instinctively understand that culture stands at the vanguard of Taiwan’s burgeoning national consciousness. New stories and narratives have deepened people’s love for their way of life, empathy for their past, and solidarity with one another. Meanwhile, these stories have finally reached the world. People see Taiwan as an interesting, diverse, and valuable place—not merely a small marginal island on the outposts of the Chinese cultural sphere.
Seen in this light, the attacks of legislators are not merely vicious and ignorant, but also filled with the jealousy and resentment of those who feel left behind. They know their days are marked. Taiwan belongs to the dreamers, to those who can imagine a different and free path for their country. These sad men and women in charge of the legislature seem determined to drag us back into an imperial past that is long dead.
We end with three voices that we found on social media. The first is from one of our favorite comic book artists, Ruan Guangming. Another is a music producer and bassist 全製賢. The final comes from user ftai73.
Ruan Guangming （阮光民):
Writing a book, drawing a comic, composing a song, or making a film are all incredibly challenging endeavors. Getting people to notice your work is even hard. Receiving international licensing or winning an award is even more rare. It’s a moment of pride when someone in the international spotlight says, “I’m from Taiwan.”
I think it’s difficult for those who have never been involved in these industries to truly understand. Yet society is full of misanthropes who excel at pointing fingers, questioning and mocking.
And now, the Legislative Yuan is filled with such people wielding power. These individuals have never taken the time to truly understand the industry. I’m convinced they’ve never visited places like the Taiwan Comic Base, the Manga Museum, the Literature Museum, book fairs, or film festivals to listen and engage. Instead, they rely on their own assumptions and fringe information to pass judgment and maliciously delete or freeze the initiatives that various government departments are trying to promote.
I’ve been reflecting on recent events in the Legislative Yuan, and I think I’ve finally sorted out how I feel: life over the past few years has been pretty decent, yet suddenly a group of people jumped out, claiming the government is terrible and wanting to undo all the progress made.
Since graduating from college, completing military service, and starting work, my personal experience has been quite positive over the past few years. Overall, it feels like there’s been continuous progress—both in my personal life and in the broader environment. I’ve had a stable job, and I’ve even received grants from the Ministry of Culture (wow, I guess I’m a “beggar”), which allowed me to produce and release music at a higher standard. Now, while having a full-time job, I’ve been able to maintain music as a side gig, earning some extra income each month, but more importantly, leading a life that’s emotionally fulfilling. If I had to complain, it would be about rising housing prices—they’re becoming increasingly unaffordable.
There’s no need to bring up China’s military aggression or accuse the blue-and-white coalition of intentionally weakening Taiwan through their budget review tactics. Instead, I wonder: have blue-and-white supporters genuinely failed to notice the positive changes over the past few years?
Why is it that I feel this government, which has allowed me to live well, strengthened the nation over the years, and brought Taiwan repeated success on the global stage, left so many Taiwanese last year feeling disconnected from these advancements and changes? Have I quietly become one of the beneficiaries of the system?
It’s strange—I genuinely hope that Taiwan, whose GDP has been growing steadily, can continue making strides in both domestic and international development. Wouldn’t it be great if everyone could improve together? Wouldn’t it be beneficial for all industries to grow with the support of government budgets?
This time, the anger has spread swiftly and intensely because they’ve crossed sacred lines.
For me, that line is Public Television Service.
While the budget cuts in other areas have also left me deeply unsettled, the deliberate intent to suppress critical thinking through ideological control is absolutely unforgivable.
It seems the artistic spirit within me hasn’t been extinguished after all.
Book Club: Hisham Matar’s My Friends, March 7th/8th
We had such a marvelous time talking to you about Taiwan Travelogue! Thanks to everyone who came out. For our next book club, we're reading Hisham Matar's My Friends. We’ll meet Friday, March 7th at 6:30 PM EST / March 8th, at 7:30 AM Taiwan time. (Note that we're making it a bit earlier in the evening for people in the U.S.) The book club is available to all paying subscribers. Please reply here for the zoom link.
Happy Year of the Snake: Our New Year Greeting (Thanks Taiwanese Gen-Zers!)
Sorry our sound got cut off! But we’re saying 「蛇來～運轉」: When the Snake comes, your fortune reverses. (The assumption of this is that most people didn’t have a great year, lol.) We are super into this snake gesture. Thanks to no-longer-Baby-P. for taking the video, though she did so very begrudgingly.
* A version of this newsletter released earlier today used a quote from D.H. Lawrence to describe the KMT-TPP legislators. Separately, both Albert and I started to feel guilty about it and have now deleted that quote. Lawrence may have been a fascist, and given that the KMT-TPPers have referred to DPPers as “toads” and called for toad-killing, we decided not to stoop to their level.