Editorial — KMT and PFP Climb Separate Mountains, Leaving the Outcome to Voters

For the PFP, the unresolved issue remains: why is it always expected that Soong Chu-yu and the PFP should prioritize the greater good? The PFP hasn’t been without compromise or reconciliation efforts. In 2004, Soong was willing to let bygones be bygones with Lien Chan and serve as his vice-presidential running mate. In 2008, Soong even had a face-to-face meeting with Ma Ying-jeou, not only expressing full support but also having the PFP disarm in the legislative elections.

The PFP’s long-standing grievance is this: why is it always Soong Chu-yu and the PFP who are asked to put the big picture first? The PFP has made compromises before. In 2004, Soong was ready to reconcile with Lien Chan and become his vice president. In 2008, he had a direct talk with Ma Ying-jeou, pledging full support and even having the PFP stand down in the legislative elections—those with campaign strength negotiated with the KMT to run in district races, and the KMT reserved “PFP-recommended” spots on its at-large list. Luo Shu-lei, who beat Chiang Hsiao-yen in the KMT’s primary polls this time to secure the nomination, was one such at-large PFP-recommended legislator back then. Many PFP members have also received various arrangements since the Ma administration took office.

Why can’t a similar model be replicated in 2012? The PFP’s statement pointed out that in recent years, Soong Chu-yu has repeatedly advised President Ma and the ruling authorities on issues such as disaster relief, governance, and the excessive establishment of special municipalities, “but all fell on deaf ears, with no substantial adjustments made.” Therefore, the PFP believes that unless public discontent reaches a certain level, the PFP has no capital for a comeback.

The statement isn’t entirely baseless. But in fact, shortly after the Ma administration took office and following Typhoon Morakot, Ma Ying-jeou personally visited Soong Chu-yu with then-Premier Liu Chao-shiuan to seek advice on disaster recovery and reconstruction. The aftermath may not have been entirely satisfactory, but it’s certainly not accurate to say Ma dismissed Soong’s suggestions as “falling on deaf ears.” Not to mention that Li Hong-yuan, who joined the Cabinet this year as head of the Public Construction Commission, is a former member of the provincial government team and a close associate of Soong. If the Ma administration didn’t value the experience of the PFP and Soong within the provincial government, would it have been necessary to replace Fan Liang-chiu, Ma’s former trusted head of the Public Construction Commission?

As for the excessive creation of special municipalities, it might be a policy flaw the Ma government didn’t fully consider. The five special municipality elections have already dealt the KMT a significant blow, and the consequences of inadequate planning haven’t fully materialized yet—this is something the Ma government must bear. Even if Soong is furious, it’s too late to change things; the only recourse is to accelerate remedies through subsequent policies.

Government governance can never be perfect. Just like the provincial government team Soong Chu-yu built back then, their dedicated efforts and achievements indeed earned them public praise. But generations must eventually change. In 2008, Ma Ying-jeou was able to replace the Lien-Soong ticket and become the candidate fully endorsed by the pan-blue camp—a natural trend and evolution of generational shift. Ma may not be adept at catering to political veterans, and complaints from KMT elders about Ma’s “lack of courtesy” are plentiful. But as former KMT Chairman Wu Po-hsiung put it, “No matter how much dissatisfaction there is in one’s heart, when faced with issues of principle, one must set it aside.” The reason for setting it aside is simple: no matter how great one’s achievements, there comes a time to pass the baton—no one can stay in power forever. Vice President Vincent Siew served one term with Ma Ying-jeou and then voluntarily retired, handing the baton to current Premier Wu Den-yih, is a case in point.

Although Soong Chu-yu announced his retirement from politics after his crushing defeat in the Taipei mayoral election five years ago, no one blamed him for going back on his word—the deep affection Taiwanese people hold for Soong is evident. The PFP hasn’t closed its doors because of this, and since Soong remains the party chairman, it’s understandable for him to run in elections to ensure the party’s survival. But no matter which path he chooses, he must not reopen the Xinfeng case as a way forward.

Back when Lee Teng-hui and Soong Chu-yu went separate ways, the Xinfeng case caused a political storm. Even though years later the court ruled in favor of the KMT, defining the NT$240 million from the Xinfeng case as surplus campaign funds from Soong’s provincial governor bid and not related to the KMT, in the eyes of many, that money was seen as a political donation made during a time when legal systems were not yet robust—hurting both public sentiment and image. The KMT should never have touched it, let alone engaged in endless disputes with Soong over this account.

As an independent political party, participating in elections is inevitable. Under the current single-member-district, two-vote electoral system, it’s not optimistic for the PFP, whose influence is not what it once was, to clear the 5% party vote threshold. But having decided to run, the outcome must be left to voters—there’s no need to blame one’s setbacks on suppression by other parties. Although Soong Chu-yu and the PFP are betting their last hand, they risk losing hard-won blue camp territory. But can the KMT’s turf really depend on the concessions of other parties? For now, the best approach is for “brothers to climb separate mountains and strive with their own efforts,” without resorting to harsh words that damage their image. Trust that voters will make wise judgments about Taiwan’s democratic future.