KMT Han’s distasteful national day speech

Last year, Legislative Speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) turned the Double Ten National Day ceremony into a platform for grievances against the government. Yesterday, standing before the president and foreign dignitaries, he warned against Taiwan becoming a “false democracy, in reality a dictatorship.” Then he called for unity.

Democratic leaders must tolerate criticism, even on ceremonial occasions, but Han misused his position and a national celebration to insinuate that Taiwan’s elected president was steering the country toward dictatorship and cast himself as a statesman offering reconciliation.

Han asked how Taiwan’s security should be examined, using a medical analogy. If he insists on playing doctor on his patient’s birthday, he must give an honest diagnosis. He cannot put all the blame on his political opponents while refusing to examine his own side.

The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party had attempted to impeach President William Lai (賴清德), a motion that failed in May. That heightened tensions between the legislature and the presidency, yet Han omitted it from his diagnosis of democratic distress.

Meanwhile, the recall campaign against opposition lawmakers was decried as a “full-on political witch hunt.” Han was entitled to oppose the move, but declaring the process “undemocratic” simply because it targeted his allies requires more than indignation.

The recall and the impeachment are constitutional mechanisms to remove elected officials, and can be wielded responsibly or opportunistically. A legislative speaker who condemns one while ignoring the other must explain the double standard.

Han said that some Taiwanese want the country to become Japan’s “fifth major island,” while others want it to become China’s “31st province.” He offered no evidence for this, yet urged political leaders not to add fuel to the fire. This caricature ignored the broad public preference for maintaining the cross-strait “status quo” and the vast majority who identify simply as Taiwanese.

On the executive-legislative deadlock, responsibility again fell elsewhere. The legislature had passed bills; the premier had refused to countersign them; the president was expected to resolve the impasse. The legislature’s conduct escaped scrutiny entirely.

However, the most disgraceful part was his comment that Taiwan must avoid a drift toward “dictatorship.” It invited people to associate Lai’s presidency with dictatorship. An accusation so grave demanded proportionate evidence. A contested constitutional decision is not proof of dictatorship, and Han’s office requires him to respect that distinction. He chose to blur it instead.

Foreign guests had gathered for Taiwan’s national celebration to honor its achievements and democratic endurance. Han used their presence to amplify a charge against the legitimacy of that very democracy. It was a humiliating spectacle for Taiwan.

His appeals for cross-strait peace were not only incomplete, but also closely mirrored China’s rhetoric. What Han failed to address that is cross-strait peace requires more than a shared cultural heritage — it demands respect the right of Taiwanese to determine their own future.

Han’s speech betrayed the responsibility of his office: to represent the nation with fairness, dignity and respect for its democracy. Having indicted his opponents and caricatured his fellow citizens, Han offered himself as the voice of reconciliation, but his call for unity would only carry weight if he acknowledged the opposition’s role in the conflict he laments.

Taiwan’s legislative speaker diminished the country. The question is: Whose interests does he think that served?

John Cheng is a retired businessman from Hong Kong now living in Taiwan.