The political chasm separating mainland China from Taiwan sometimes seems too vast to bridge. But a recent curious phenomenon may begin to change that as Chinese mainlanders, who previously had no clue about life on the tiny island, find through their personal trips and tours that Taiwan’s vibrant democracy may be hope for China’s own future.
Before Li Fan, director and researcher at the Beijing-based World and China Institute, visited Taiwan, all he knew about the island neighbor were some select, superficial details. Like other mainlanders, he was told of the beauty of Ali Mountain and Sun Moon Lake, and educated on nationalist leader Chiang Kai-shek’s dictatorship and former President Chen Shui-bian’s graft.
“Due to a long period of selective reporting and political propaganda … this was the Taiwan we knew,” Li wrote in a July edition of the Chinese magazine Southern Window.
Through his personal experiences and observations, Li discovered the side of Taiwan untold by China’s Communist Party mouthpieces. He found a democratic and harmonious Taiwan that, unlike China, valued human rights and the environment, cherished personal freedoms, and respected the rule of law.
“After arriving in Taiwan, we found the Taiwan we didn’t know: beautiful mountains and a clean environment ... with all religions existing in harmony. Hidden behind this beautiful harmony is the gradual institutional and moral evolution after its political ‘liberation,’” Li penned.
Environmentalists protected Taiwan from being a victim of development, and democracy allowed press and religious freedom, he wrote. “The friendliness of the people shows the root of Chinese traditional culture and the peace of mind that comes from a just legal system.”
This “liberation,” marked by democratic and economic reforms decades ago as well as the lifting of martial law in 1987, put Taiwan on a path that would uphold “peace and harmony,” Li surmised.
Li is not the only visitor to Taiwan to share such views, which would have been considered heretical years ago.
The number of mainland Chinese tourists to Taiwan, credited to Taiwanese President Ma Ying-jeou’s conciliatory China policy, grew from virtually zero before 2008, to less than 1 million in 2009, to 1.6 million in 2010.
That number is sure to increase, as is the freedom that the tourists will enjoy on their visits. In June, rules against individual travel for mainlanders to Taiwan were relaxed, allowing Chinese tourists from the cities of Beijing, Shanghai, and Xiamen to cross the strait on their trips without being constrained by a tour group or guide.
Many Chinese have not the ears to hear or eyes to see the benefits of Taiwan’s democratic political system, but that doesn’t go for all of them.
“Seeing and hearing fellow countrymen, separated by history, may have a subtle effect on the impressions and opinions these visitors bring back to China,” John J. Metzler, a United Nations correspondent and lecturer in Asian Studies at St. John’s University in New York, wrote in the English-language daily The China Post last month.
Free media and healthy political discourse are practiced almost universally in Taiwan, often shocking or surprising the Chinese.
“Interestingly many visitors watch Taiwan’s spirited TV shows to see and hear freewheeling political discussions and opinions unheard of back in China,” Metzler wrote.
Some Chinese visitors to Taiwan even treat free media as quite the novelty: a recent Asia Times report told of anecdotal accounts of Chinese tourists snubbing their day tours in favor of staying in their hotel rooms to watch unrestricted TV, specifically uncensored political talk shows and news reports.
Taiwan is fully aware of the impact that visits are having on the political opinions of the Chinese. To further influence their judgment, Taiwan has considered opening its Legislative Yuan, known in the past for its fistfights, to tourists to promote democracy.
But despite its blemishes, what makes Taiwan special is its openness, representative government, and the accountability of its officials, Li Fan wrote in his article.
Li illustrated this idea vividly in a commentary published in Southern Window. He recounts a back-and-forth exchange between Yu Jianrong, a scholar at China’s Academy of Social Sciences, and an ordinary Taiwanese resident.
“If a government official demolished your house, what would you do?” Yu asked, according to Li.
The citizen questioned why an official would demolish his house, a seemingly improbable event in Taiwan but a rampant occurrence in China.
Prodded, the Taiwanese said that if his home were demolished, he would sue the official, and that he would get the official into a great deal of trouble.
“What if the court was corrupt and bailed out the official?” Yu posed. The resident responded: “I'd report him to the Legislature.”
Yu: “But what if the member of Parliament was also corrupt?”
“No way,” the man shot back. “If he was corrupt, I wouldn’t vote for him next time, and he'd lose his seat.”
With reporting by Matthew Robertson and research by Albert Ding
