Lincoln Tan: It's democracy, but not as we know it in the West

I went to Taiwan last week to attend what I thought would be a joyous ceremony to celebrate its National Day. Instead, it was more like entering a war zone.

Instead of flags and festive decorations, barbwired barricades and armed riot police lined the streets of Taipei leading to the presidential office complex, where the main celebrations were held.

October 10, which the Taiwanese call Double Ten, is the anniversary of the Wuchang Uprising in 1911 and is a symbolic proxy for the creation of the Republic of China.

I was one of about 30 foreign journalists invited to the celebrations, but what we witnessed was an uprising. Hundreds of thousands of protesters turned Taipei into a city under siege.

Dressed in red T-shirts, they had taken to the streets calling for the resignation of President Chen Shui-bian. Shouting "depose" and making the thumbs down gesture, they turned on anything associated with the government.

En route to the National Day Parade, protesters thumped and kicked our bus.

Earlier that morning, Taipei's mayor Ma Ying-jeou, who is also the leader of the country's main opposition party, said, "We only have 5000 police today, while there are tens of thousands of protesters. It is hard to say then who will disperse whom."

At a briefing for journalists, a government official warned that we had to look after ourselves, and to hide our identification tag should we want to get anywhere near the protesters.

The Taiwanese President looked distracted when we shook hands in the brief meeting we had before he was due to deliver his National Day speech. He must have anticipated what was to come.

The root of this public uproar is that Chen is facing a spate of graft scandals, implicating him, his family and aides.

Minutes later, just as the President started his speech, violence broke out. Opposition members had tried to use the folding chairs they were sitting on as weapons, and fist fights erupted as police tried to stop them from approaching the President and disrupting the parade.

Taiwan is obsessed with one big issue - its cross-straits relations with China.

The debate, which has been going on for more than half a century, is whether Taiwan is a sovereign state or a part of China.

This big issue, and perhaps the realisation that Taiwan's existence is dependent on this issue, has made the Taiwanese one of the most politicised people I have met.

Most people I spoke to had a political view and a strong opinion on Taiwan's relations with China. Many were also eager to participate in its new-found democracy, which the Taiwanese believe sets them apart from China, but many are still struggling to understand what democracy means.

Chen told foreign guests of the illegal demonstrations that "the clamour that happened on National Day displays the pluralism and dynamism of Taiwan's democracy" and this showed that "Taiwan is a fully fledged democracy where freedom of speech is fully protected".

People are using "democracy" as a fashionable excuse for breaking laws, as the protesters did. What system of democracy allows laws to be broken and even calls by officials for constitutional laws not to be enforced?

I wondered why the Taiwanese democracy did not extend to protecting the rights of others who wanted nothing to do with the demonstrations, or the right of foreign visitors not to be intimidated.

The push for a new constitution and statements made by Chen that "Taiwan and China are two completely different countries" and "we are not eager to embrace another so-called motherland" has further soured cross-straits relations.

Taiwan is left with only 24 countries with which it has diplomatic relationships, and this has left it isolated from participating in regional and global co-operation or taking part in signing any free trade agreements or regional arrangements.

Many people are also aware of Taiwan's vulnerability, and the strong possibility that this is a country that could be gone by lunchtime.

"We Taiwanese like to believe that we are a country, but if big brother decides to flex its muscles, maybe we will be gone," our Taiwanese guide said. "America faced only one 9/11, but we are facing ours every day."

But it is also this sense of vulnerability that has given the Taiwanese a shared purpose and a strong sense of patriotism, even among those who disagree with the Government.

As one of the red-shirted, anti-Chen demonstrators told me: "I am anti-Chen because I am pro-Taiwan. This protest is the voice of Taiwan, the people, but what we want is a strong leader who can give a strong voice to Taiwan, the country."

More than once when I was introduced as a journalist from New Zealand I was told that Taiwan and New Zealand were more than just friends because we were blood relations, pointing to reports that Maori had its origins linked to Taiwan's indigenous people.

New Zealand and Taiwan may share many similarities, but how we differ on the political front. I am glad to be living in a country where life chugs on peacefully and where we do not have to face the conflicts and turmoil that the Taiwanese face daily.

How I agree with Dora, an 85-year-old who emigrated from Britain 55 years ago sitting next to me on my return flight, who said, "We often don't know how lucky and blessed we are in New Zealand until we go overseas".