By Jerina Zaloshnja
“Hello madam, good afternoon, Mr. R!”
“Good afternoon,” we say with a subdued voice, tired from the 13-hour journey.
The two people waiting to pick us up introduce themselves as Evelyn and Max, not the Chinese names we would expect.
She works at the Taiwanese Foreign Ministry. He is the driver. We have come to the capital, Taipei, as two visitors from far-away Albania. Mr. R. and I are here on a five-day visit, invited by the country’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
Taiwan is remote for most Albanians, but for me it is not entirely unknown. The knowledge does not come from books either. Being in Taiwan brings be back to how I first heard about this place. Communist Albania’s official propaganda and media in the early seventies was almost at war with Taiwan.
From childhood I remember Albanian television repeatedly denouncing “Chiang Kai-shek and his clique.”
Although it was difficult to understand the subject, much less understand why our television anchor would speak about the leadership of a place on the other side of the world, I remember quite vividly that the coverage was negative.
I remember this because my family, where politics was often discussed in the evenings, was one night shocked – father and mother and especially two of my father’s friends who were visiting – by me declaring “Long Live Chiang Kai-shek” after the television anchor had just delivered another report against the man and his associates. I believe it was simply the reaction of a child who wanted to say something against the grain, but my declaration created a tense situation in the room, and I immediately realized that I had said something very wrong for the times. So, to fix it, I added quickly, as on the same breath, “Long Live Mao too.”
My childlike intuition had pushed me to fix potential political problems with saying something about Mao too because our television at that time was clearly against Taiwan and Chiang Kai-shek and pro China and Mao Zedong.
Since that time, many years have passed and many things have changed.
Both Chiang and Mao have passed. Albania is no longer a political satellite of China. And relations between Taipei and Beijing are also changing. In one of the newspapers on the plane from Hong Kong to Taipei, I read how Taiwanese President Ma Ying-jeou had just made public new plans to further improve relations which with China.
Toward an open and democratic society
Taipei is not as industrial I had imagined, and the buildings come in all shapes and forms, mostly not too high. They offer a fluid urban landscape. It is immediately noticeable that the architectural choices are a mixture of classic and modern, combined with post-modern offerings. There are European-style buildings, but Chinese-style ones too, such as the Grand Hotel and the National Museum.
We passed through Yongkang Road, famous with visitors for its bazaar with hundreds of vendors that are open around the clock. There was Taipei Tower 101 too, one of the wonders of the world.
Taipei, one of Asia’s grand cities, is at the same time somewhat atypical for the continent.
There is a sense of comparability and healthy free spirit in the air, which one finds it harder to see in many other parts of Asia.
People like to shop at the night markets, open 24 hours, to buy knickknacks, eat ice cream and drink Oolong, the famous tea.
As great foodies, people in Taiwan love to eat all the fish the world’s oceans can offer, other seafood too, but also beef soup and goose breasts, cooked with delight, at corner stores or stands.
They also like to read at the library all night, until sunrise. It helps the library is also open 24 hours.
I saw people in rush but also other who wander in the streets, taking their time. But most of them rush. This was a bit bizarre for me, as people are usually divided by country and culture. Some have a fast pace in the streets, some do not. In the West, generally speaking, there is always a rush, elsewhere societies differ in their pace. In Taiwan, it seems clear that most people are in a rush, and most want to be in a rush. Still, it seems to be a transitional society, but a society that is moving forward at a quick pace.
What also appears evident is that Taiwanese society tends to be moving more and more toward an open society with free people who are securely moving forward with democratic way of living.
They have done so in a relatively short time, considering that it was only in the year 2000 that the single-party rule ended in this country.
For several decades, Taiwan was ruled by a nationalist party led by General Chiang Kai-shek, the famous reference to my childhood.
In the early nineties, the country entered a transition process, one of the most successful transitions ever seen to a functioning democracy.
In 1996, Taiwan held its first presidential elections, a process that continued and was associated with the transfer of power between different political parties in 2000 and 2008.
Other important events dot the historical calendar. In 1987, Taiwan allowed its citizens to visit their relatives in China. Recently, the current leader, President Ma Ying-jeou visited the Pope at the Vatican.
Asked about the state and future of democracy in Taiwan, Dr. Jae Bih Lin, professor of diplomacy at the National Chengchi University says several elements are at play.
“For a political system to work, we need trust, rule of law and ethics. Democracy in Taiwan is new, the process of transfer of power is not easy,” he says.
But they have made it. The political transition in Taiwan is beyond doubt a success story.
“In Taiwan we have proved wrong the myth that Chinese culture is incompatible with democracy,” a senior government official says.
A unique political history
I had great curiosity and wanted to learn more about General Chiang Kai-shek, which as I mentioned earlier I had first I “met” in my childhood.
And there is no better place to do that than Taipei’s Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall.
On first sight, many portraits of the general show a man that visually short in statute does not seem to exude great physical prowess or inspiration. But this is only the first appearance. There is something exceptional and unique in how he handles himself, in his yes, in his love for his wife and other women as well as in his permanent guard, which bordered on paranoia. For example, in his summer villa, in the hills of Taipei, which has now become one of the numerous museums in his honor, the museum officials showed us the hidden tunnel inside the house that would lead the general to safety in case of an attack. There was in fact little danger.
The political history of Taiwan has actually been closely associated with the ideas and the leadership of the Chiang Kai-shek, a man with absolute power over the lives of the people he governed. Like all authoritarian leaders, if not dictators, it seems that even for the general the future of power and the future of the homeland were one. In 1949, after the victory of the communists in China, and the creation of the People’s Republic of China, Chiang Kai-shek, along with 1.3 million refugees and soldiers moved the center of his state, the Republic of China, to the island of Taiwan, waiting, like Napoleon, for a better day. Helped by wide recognition and international support, mainly from the United States, the pro-American leader ran the country with an iron fist. General Chiang Kai-shek decided to transfer the government and parliament to Taiwan. Members of parliament from his party emigrated from China, and the parliament met in Taipei, the capital of the Republic of China. Things remained unchanged until 1991. This is unique in the modern history of parliamentarian states. But it is part of the extraordinary and unique political history of Taiwan, or the Republic of China, as its citizens continue to officially call their state.
Until 1971, Taiwan was also extraordinary for other reasons. The island, a state with an area of 36,188 km square and a population of 23.3 million had one of the most powerful seats at the United Nations, reserved for China.
Taiwan, claimed not only represent a small island but all of China until 1971, when the United Nations membership was then passed to the People’s Republic of China, the mainland.
Looking back in history, there is an Albanian connection to the story, as the shift at the UN happened with the help of a country even smaller than Taiwan נAlbania. Because of its strong ties with Beijing at the time, Albania would be the initiator of several United Nations resolutions demanding withdrawal of international recognition of Taiwan at the UN in favor of China. (Mr. R., who has traveled to China several times, says he has seen that a generation of Chinese officials and leaders have a kind of nostalgia and love for Albania because the contribution that Albania gave to China’s membership at the United Nations, where the world’s most populous country also has a seat the Security Council.)
But in Taipei, they are neutral about this part of history, and they know tiny Albania cannot be blamed for the loss of international recognition, membership in the UN and other organizations. And it goes without saying that regardless of UN resolutions initiated by Albania, there were more powerful factors that led to the withdrawal of international recognition in 1971.
In 1979, the U.S. too withdrew recognition for Taiwan as an independent country. It was the start of a long period of loneliness for a country that, until recently, had been for the U.S. in particular and the West in general a strategic ally.
“They have been our most difficult years,” recalls a representative of one of the most recognized think tanks in Taipei, “but we had to hit bottom in order to rise again.”
Taiwan is thus now a unique case of a de facto state, says Mr. R. This is a certain category of states in international relations. They meet all the conditions to be states, except they lack international recognition. There are a number of such states, but the case of Taiwan is exceptional because it is a de facto state functioning much better than the majority of states that actually have seats at the United Nations and other organizations.
Quick notes about the general
The house where Chiang Kai-shek lived most of the year was built at the foot of the most famous national park and been was converted into a museum. The past is still fresh here. Many local visitors who come here every day of the year do so out of curiosity and nostalgia. Many think Chiang Kai-shek led Taiwan with an iron fist. Others say he was simply a dictator. But many other view the general as a dogged fighter and a disciple of his ideals. Nevertheless, it is obvious that Taiwan today is largely part a product of this one controversial leader.
The general never ceased believing that his government would retake control of mainland China, says a former military man who had been close to the leader.
Like all strong authoritarian leaders, he had his delusions. For example, he had planted trees in the backyard said to last for a millennium and then bringing to the yard stones dating back to almost the creation of the earth.
He was afraid of death and believed that having white lime walls or trees that last of ever would help him become eternal. There was a fear of “the Reds” in his blood. The communists had managed to kidnap him for three days in his youth, allegedly. That’s why his office was surrounded by large windows and tables had been placed in such a way that Chiang Kai-shek could jump out the window, in case danger. The helicopter was standing in a field tied to the famous tunnel mentioned earlier ready for an escape in case of danger.
In fact, no such incident ever occurred. But, despite the measures he took, the leader of Taiwan did not live long. On April 5, 1975, after decades of strong leadership he died of a heart attack, napping in his bedroom. His wife, the too beautiful and too American “Madame,” as young and old call her today in Taiwan, slept in the adjoining room. The guards of the floor believed to have heard a call for help, but they were not allowed to enter directly into the room where the leader slept. They had to follow protocol and walk around the hall, by which time the heart attack has taken his life.
The citizens, saddened by this sudden death, proposed building a memorial. Every day, visitors come to view the changing of the guards ceremony, performed at the same time with a rather strange exhibitionist ritual.
But they also come to take pictures, at the wonderful entrance gate, otherwise known as freedom Square.
Despite the way Chiang Kai-shek led, the general set in motion things in the direction of liberty.
A new policy of rapprochement
Taiwan’s economy today ranks as 16th largest in the world, and the island ranks fourth globally for commercial exchanges.
Kristy Hsu, an economic research associate at Chung Hua Institute, says that “since January 2002, when it became the 144th member of the WTO, Taiwan has transformed into a modern industrial economy, the leading exporter of information technology products and a major commercial force in the multilateral trading system.”
During the last two years, Taiwan’s GDP grew by an average of 4.7 percent while per-capita income increased from to $18,588. Today, Taiwan exports orchid flowers, the famous Oolong tea and mango fruits – all very popular in the Western and Asian markets.
Since 2008, it seems that a new wind is blowing in relations between Taiwan and China, or the “motherland,” as the Taiwanese call China.
Strained relations for decades started to change with the arrival of President Ma Ying-jeou. A year later, in 2009, leaders of China and Taiwan (in their party functions and not as representatives of the two states) exchanged direct messages for the first time after sixty years.
In June 2010, the two sides signed a major agreement that would facilitate trade between the two by gradually lifting tariffs on goods and restrictions on investment.
Agreements have also taken place allowing Chinese tourists to visit Taiwan and opened up direct flights between China and Taiwan.
It is believed that the two countries have realized that in their own way, they need each-other and that economic exchanges help produce a better life.
Taiwan companies have invested more than $300 billion in China, and China is now Taiwan’s largest trade partner. The ECFA agreement, an economic cooperation agreement between Taiwan and Beijing came into force in 2011, Since then, both countries have given each other the status of favored nation for bilateral trade.
Taiwan abolished visas in 2007, and 6.1 million visitors from China have visited in the past three years, bringing in revenue of $11.6 billion. Today there are nearly 600 flights weekly that connect Taiwan to China.
Even as I write about the relations between Taiwan and China, there was some breaking news coming into my smart phone, with media reporting that Chinese and Taiwanese officials had set a date for talks in February paving the way for the first official government-to-government meetings since the Chinese civil war six decades ago. This meeting, scheduled for February 16 is a major step in the process of reconciliation and rapprochement policy initiated several years ago by President Ma Ying-jeou.
Toward a Taiwanese identity
Earlier, I explained how a quick trip by car around Taipei creates the impression that you both are and are not in an Asian city. A free spirit, characteristic of Western societies, is seen wandering through the city and is visible in people’s behavior.
The Taiwanese appear to be an open people that widely speak foreign languages, primarily English. They love freedom and are curious about the rest of the world.
It is obvious that the Taiwanese society is not simply an Asian or Far-Eastern society, but rather a hybrid Western-Asian society.
Has this had an effect on the creation of a new identity and a new culture that has split from the mainstream Chinese culture and identity?
Several researchers have investigated the relationship between Chinese culture and identity and Taiwanese identity and culture and it doesn’t appear that the new identity is in opposition to the old one, but the way people view themselves has changed.
In the book “Issues of Taiwanese identity,” Professor Tang Shaocheng of the Institute of International Relations shows that since 1992, the proportion of people who call themselves Chinese, has fallen from 26 percent to 5 percent.
On the other hand, those who call themselves Taiwanese, increased from 17 percent to 54.2 percent. While the percentage of those who call themselves both Taiwanese and Chinese also dropped from 46.4 percent to 39 percent. A good portion of the senior and medium-level officials have been educated in Western countries, most notably in the U.S., which has led to outlooks to be Western on many things.
Madame Chiang, the wife of the general who ruled Taiwan with a strong fist, and in fact, probably one of the most influential women in the modern history of China and Taiwan often said: “The only thing Oriental about me is my face.”
I am China, and you, Taiwan
“We deserve a cigar now,” Mr. R. says after we leave the villa of the former dictator. It’s the end of our visit to Taiwan, and, equally important, was the meeting with this place and these people, that we decided in our lives, to make some changes Taiwanese style: Mr. R., henceforth has decided to call me “Madame,” and I him, “my doctor.” We decided to split the beds for some time, as a healthy thing for marriage, we drink Oolong teas at all three meals, to digest food.
We decided that no matter how difficult life becomes, we won’t let it defeat us, and, as in folk tales with Asian dragons, even when we sleep, one of us will keep one eye open.”
“Even when we fight, and when we make up, I will be China, and you Taiwan,” says “my doctor,” and he is right. No matter how seemingly different, we are of one another.
I am China and you Taiwan. We can’t do without each other.
