The Fight For Independence Is Not Through Referendums

This is a translation from the original 獨立的戰場不在公投 by Lee Chung-chih (李中志), a professor at Illinois State University and the president of the North American Taiwanese Professors Association. Originally published by Voicettank. Translation by Chieh-Ting Yeh.

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A referendum to seal the deal for Taiwan’s independence has always been a fundamental tenet for pro-independence supporters. After World War II, the Treaty of San Francisco signed between Japan and the Allied Forces only provided that Japan renounced its hold over Taiwan, but did not specify who received sovereignty of Taiwan, and therefore Taiwan’s status in international law has been in dispute, giving rise to a call for the people of Taiwan to exercise their right to self-determination.

However, the idea for a nation-wide referendum to decide the independence question became a serious political issue only after 1990 when Taiwan began its transition to democracy. The first chairman of the World United Formosans for Independence (WUFI), Dr. Troung Chai (蔡同榮), was the independence referendum’s biggest advocate: he was affectionately known as “Referendum Chai.”

In the early 90s we also saw the dissolution of the Soviet Union, and many of the subservient “republics” within the Union rushed to hold referendums for independence. The surprise runner up to this year’s World Cup, Croatia, declared independence from Yugoslavia in 1991. In that same year, almost 20 Soviet and Balkan states held independence referendums. Regardless of the struggles in each specific case, referendums seem to have become the standard protocol for creating a new nation-state—the silver bullet for pro-independence supporters in Taiwan. Even people who are not avid advocates of independence generally agree to the principle of “the future of Taiwan should be decided by all the people in Taiwan.”

Ten years after that in 2000, the independence leaning Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) became the first opposition party to take power in Taiwan, defeating the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). The DPP administration began drafting a law to provide for public ballot measures. But due to pressures from the opposition, the Referendum Act passed in 2004 set a requirement for 50% voter turnout for any ballot measure to pass, an extremely high hurdle that is basically impossible to overcome. The Referendum Act was unaffectionately called “The Birdcage Referendum” law. Sure enough, during the two referendums that were held in 2004 and 2008, even when the referendums were held alongside national elections, the measures failed due to strong opposition from the KMT.  

A DPP elder Lin I-hsiung (林義雄) spent more than ten years in hunger strikes and pilgrimages to urge the government to amend the law. Finally after 2016, with a new majority in the parliament, the DPP amended the law to lower the bar from 50% to 25% voter turnout. Although the law is still ridiculed as merely going from “bird cage” to “dog cage,” various activist groups are their oppositions are already petitioning for ballot measures, such as a hold on same-sex marriage.

Notably, while the DPP controls both executive and legislative branches of government, it still excluded from the Referendum Act the ability to vote on constitutional matters, such as changing the national boundaries, name, or flag—which means a referendum on independence is still out of the question. Of course, these are the issues the original advocates of the referendum law really care about.

Out of this disappointment with the DPP (which was supposed to be for independence after all), independence supporters flocked to the newly organized “Alliance for Joy and Happiness” (喜樂島聯盟), which called for a direct vote on independence to settle things once and for all on April 6, 2019. The Alliance also called to amend the Referendum Act yet again, to include constitutional matters.

These demands are nothing new; they have been the fundamental staples of independence supporters for 30 odd years. Emotionally, no one who supports Taiwan existing as its own nation will oppose this impulse; yet, is it legally sound or realistically feasible? Are national votes on constitutional matters comparable to ballot measures on policy matters?

Referendums in the bigger context

Referendums, as the most direct way for citizens to participate in policymaking, are in theory a backup mechanism to representative democracies, but are not considered the main process to resolve policy differences. In fact, contemporary ballot measures often becomes a force to stunt the political process. For instance, Lin I-hsiung pushed for amending the Referendum Act as a method to shut down the Fourth Nuclear Plant, but at the end the plant was shut down by the DPP having a majority in parliament. Ironically, during the previous KMT administration, which is pro-nuclear, the premier Jiang Yi-huah (江宜樺) almost called for a referendum when pressed by anti-nuclear advocates. If that vote had actually happened, it is hard to say if the pro-nuclear forces would have won the day. In the United States, referendums often end up reflecting populist and anti-progressive results, such as ballot measures regarding LGBT and immigration issues, and the courts were the final arbiters of those controversies.

As for the voter turnout requirement, some argue that democracy is decided by those who participate, and citizens have a right to not participate or “yield the floor,” so to speak. For everyday policy matters, I agree we can discuss what is a reasonable bar, but for constitutional matters that speak to the very existence of the system itself, is it acceptable to let people not participate? In other words, what good is a referendum to create a new independent country, if only few people voted?  

Looking at the independence referendums around the world, not one was barely passed thanks to an easy legal requirement. In 1860, the American states of Virginia, Texas, and Tennessee all held referendums to secede from the Union. Even though the ballots technically passed, over 30% of voters opposed. Had the leaders of these states held off on independence there might not be such a devastating Civil War to follow.

Even if we only look at referendums on constitutional matters such as sovereignty, national boundaries and constitutional conventions, a study by Micha Germann and Fernando Mendez in 2014 puts the number of such referendums since the American Civil War at 596. If we add the more widely reported Scotland, Catalonia, Kurdistan and Puerto Rico votes, we arrive at about 600. Matt Qvortrup, a leading scholar on referendums, quotes the number at around 200, based on different definitions of sovereignty referendums. However, of any of these number of votes, the truly successful examples are extremely rare.

The real fight is somewhere else

In the examples where a new nation-state was indeed created, the referendums only served more as a ceremonial affirmation of the fact, and not the actual process for the new state to emerge. In other words, referendums are neither enough nor required for independence. The real fight is over the nation’s fight to assert itself, and international geopolitics.    

The idea of self-determination through plebiscites originated with Napoleon. As his French troops conquer a piece of an older empire, Emperor Napoleon likes to hold “votes” as evidence of these regions breaking away. After World War I, US president Woodrow Wilson and the League of Nations popularized the principle of self-determination and allowed for many new states to be created, but only two examples of independence referendums were held in the interwar period. The Philippines was one, in 1935, but the United States already intended to get rid of them in the first place. The other was Western Australia, with 66% voters support leaving the Commonwealth, but the UK did not recognize the result and nothing was changed. The new European nations that were created were results of treaties and negotiations between powers—letting the people themselves vote would only create problems for them.

Similarly, after World War II the number of new nation-states exploded, but according to Qvortrup, before the collapse of the Soviet Union there were only 13 sovereignty referendums, of which 10 were independence/secession referendums, such as Mongolia separating from China, and Iceland from Denmark. Only three colonies that achieved statehood through referendums, which were Cambodia in 1955, Guinea in 1958, and Western Samoa in 1961; both Cambodia and Western Samoa were in fact encouraged by the colonizing power (France and New Zealand, respectively), because these were democratic states and had little legitimacy holding on to colonies. In essence, these referendums were sanctioned because the “motherland” wanted to get rid of these colonies in the first place, and the referendum was used to legitimize that decision. In most other colonies the elites fighting for independence were hesitant to go the referendum route and let the masses take away their control over the movement.

President Charles de Gaulle also manipulated referendums to deal with France’s other colonial baggage. The leader, who likened himself to Napoleon, encouraged referendums in Algeria and other French colonies. However, the referendums ended with high approval for staying within France. Violence over independence continued, but France was exhausted with the fighting, and within several years most of these colonies declared independence without another referendum. In 1962, Algeria held another referendum to declare independence, but only after ten years of a war for independence and France surrendering. These referendums were all really just tools for decision that are already made.

The true examples of using a referendum as a legitimate process towards independence occured after the Soviet Union collapse. Within three years, there were over 20 independence referendums; but the ones that succeeded still had the mother country’s sanction and international support as prerequisites. These are today’s Baltic states, Georgia, and Ukraine.

Not a silver bullet

As we see, referendums that capture the people’s imagination as an expression of the people’s voice, turn out to be little more than a symbolic carnival hosted by the politically powerful decisionmakers and applauded by the international community.

Referendums that actually try to go against existing political circumstance tend to fail in the past. They either are not recognized and the result is moot, or are followed by war. Kosovo held a referendum in 1991, with a 83% voter turnout and 99% voting yes, but still engaged in a tragically bloody war with Serbia for ten years, and was finally recognized by the US in 2008. Even today, Kosovo is not fully recognized by the EU, nor a member of the UN. Other states in the region like Croatia and Bosnia also had to fight after their referendums. Not that referendums will necessarily lead to war, but the point is the referendum itself cannot be the actual tool to decide independence, because it is too rudimentary of a tool to deal with the obstacles towards statehood.

Of course, we all hope for a situation like Quebec or Scotland, where the central government allows for a referendum and (we assume) would have accepted the result if they decide to break away. There is no overt retaliation, no hard feelings, after the vote. But will the call for referendums ever end in these places, until the status quo changes? The Quebecois calls this phenomenon the “neverendum.” But in Taiwan’s situation, can we hope China will be just as accepting of a referendum result to “break away?”   

Taiwan has embarked on democratization for over decades, and older aspirations against authoritarianism should perhaps be reexamined. Have we given referendums a serious, self-critical thinking? Do we really understand referendums? Are our hopes for what it can do realistic? The referendum is not a silver bullet that will kill the Big Bad Wolf instantly. The author is not renouncing the right of the Alliance for Joy and Happiness to voice its opinion in a democracy, but more caution should be applied to constitutional matters that speak to the state’s existence.

(Feature photo by Màrius Montón on Wikicommons, CC BY-SA 4.0)