Bailey Hu

    hubailey@yahoo.com

    IN the run-up to the recent election of Taiwan’s leader, Chou Tzu-yu, a Taiwanese member of the girl band Twice, became an object of vilification for patriotic mainlanders. She appeared holding Taiwan’s flag on a South Korean TV show last year, which was interpreted by some as an expression of support for “Taiwanese independence.”

    A corresponding uproar in Taiwan followed, in support of Chou and objecting to the objections of the pro-reunification side. In a stilted and somber apology video released by her company, Chou stated that there was only one China. But as can be seen by the resulting debacle, her words only served to highlight the split between the two sides of the debate.

    What can we gather from all of this? First of all, it’s clear that with or without her consent, Chou became a highly politicized figure in the fraught period just before and after Taiwan’s leadership and legislative elections on Jan. 16. On one side commenters called for her to own up to her actions, and some even blamed her for the KMT’s fall from power in the elections.

    Other people retaliated by pointing out that the Taiwan flag should be a symbol of pride, and that a 16-year-old girl doesn’t deserve the concentrated fury of the Internet. What seems to be mostly ignored is whether or not Chou’s role was really as important as we think. It’s likely that the choice of picking the Taiwan flag may not have wholly been her own. Korean pop production companies, like the one that owns Twice, usually micromanage their performers’ images, and it seems unlikely that a pop star would have been allowed to brandish the Taiwan flag on air without the approval of producers, managers, and the like. Most likely it was just a marketing gimmick by the company.

    Whether or not it’s really her fault, it seems that her display of the flag along with the election of Tsai Ing-wen has once again stirred up fears of “Taiwanese independence” on the mainland. On the more Taiwan-leaning side, Chou has become a symbol of pride and also vulnerability. For years, the island has excelled at producing hit TV dramas, actors, singers, and other celebrities. In place of political or economic clout, it wields cultural sway over the mainland.

    Chou, despite a significant amount of time spent abroad in South Korea, emerged as a figure representing both Taiwan’s power and its inherent fragility. As fears of one day losing its distinct culture mount in the hearts of Taiwanese, rebutting the attacks on Chou became a convenient way of resisting the erosion of Taiwanese identity, at least symbolically.

    The lesson we can learn from this story is to stay calm and listen to the facts. Chou has been blamed for things that were most likely out of her control; until we can have more clarification on the matter, it’s best to reserve judgment on her. Also, commenters have accused Tsai of siding with Chou, and of pushing a “pro-independence” agenda. While it’s true that the newly elected leader has spoken up in favor of the Taiwan flag, so has her rival, as well as the current Beijing-friendly leader Ma Ying-jeoh.

    That the Taiwan flag should be proudly displayed is hardly a minority view in the island. When mainland hardliners and gleeful Internet trolls criticize Chou, they are in fact further alienating their compatriots on the other side of the Straits, which seems self-defeating if your goal is reunification.

    It’s time to take a deep breath and listen closely to what the other side is saying, because bridging cross-Straits differences will take more than just pop music.

    (The author works as an educational consultant, helping high school students apply to schools in the U.S.)