Make Equality Personal to Persuade in Taiwan

As Taiwan journeys along the bumpy road of democracy, last week’s referendum results forced the island onto a nasty detour. While incredibly disheartening, the outcome was not altogether surprising. For months, anti-equality bigots have run a venomous, well-coordinated, and relentless campaign. Hate is a strong fuel, and when mixed with combustible political contests and a low-information electorate, the results proved explosive.

Against this assault on human rights, the LGBT camp appeared fragmented and disorganized. A scattered, last-minute effort barely managed to place two pro-equality referenda items onto the ballot. Both failed miserably. Meanwhile, three homophobic measures passed with convincing margins.

The November 2018 election will be remembered as a tragic moment for a country once lauded as Asia’s most progressive—and just last month roused a record-setting 137,000 people onto the streets for Taipei Pride. For now, an ostensibly conservative majority has trampled on one of society’s most vulnerable groups, while suggesting the elimination of gender equality education, to boot.

Given traditional mores and social pressures in Taiwan that prevent the LGBT community from fully engaging in politics, the contest was always an uphill battle. Moreover, marriage equality activists faced fires on multiple fronts: ambiguous ballot wording, dirty campaigning, anti-gay “fake news” circulated through the LINE messenger app, and even conservative funders from abroad who helped guide the anti-gay marriage forces. Foreign backers reportedly included the zealots who spearheaded Prop 8 in California, a controversial law also passed by referendum to cancel marriage quality but was ultimately thrown out by U.S. courts as unconstitutional. Though organized churches represent a small percentage of Taiwan’s population, and anti-LGBT activists an even smaller fraction, they are an exceptionally loud constituency—and the LGBT community never regrouped from the onslaught.

But instead of casting around for villains to blame, the LGBT community would benefit from greater self-reflection. Even last month’s inspiring Pride parade starkly underscores the fact that Taiwan’s LGBT community is too insular: most efforts to rally the troops simply preach to the choir. We can take heart in survey results by the Marriage Equality Coalition that “more than 80% of the population below the age of 35 supports same-sex marriage.” Future generations are moving in the right direction toward justice. But that same poll found that only 30% of those over 45 support marriage equality. In a rapidly aging society with increasing life spans and fewer births, waiting out the old folks is not a feasible political strategy.

The social media ecosystem that ushered in the ruling Democratic Progressive Party’s (DPP) smashing electoral victory of 2016 has now proven to be an echo chamber that allows young people to avoid acknowledging unfavorable demographics or facing difficult facts. The election results show that the LGBT community has not done the hard work of communicating with and educating Taiwan’s elders.

Uncharitably, one could say there’s a bit too much partying, and not enough persuading. More kindly, one must acknowledge that these discussions will not be comfortable. Asian families are not prone to discuss sexuality, relationships, or even social issues. This reflects a common dilemma for gay Taiwanese, who live and love in cities away from home, while never revealing their sexuality to their families. In this context, it’s convenient for youth to duck the problem and focus on circles of friends, where nearly everyone seems progressive and LGBT-friendly.

Unfortunately, this means they are ignoring the most important and reachable segment of voters: their own parents and grandparents. Instead of focusing on a nebulous “public,” LGBT activists must change their families’ hearts and minds. It’s important to let elders know that when they vote against equality, it is not faceless “others” who are being harmed—it is their own children and grandchildren.

Not everyone who voted against marriage equality is a bigot, but without the national government showing leadership, the right-wing’s dire and misleading messages about LGBT marriage came to dominate public discourse and shape the perceptions of older people. Even if the government did not take a strong stance on the referendum measures themselves, it should have corrected the deliberate misinformation about LGBT persons, to ensure a more informed democratic process.

Another factor affecting referendum results was voter confusion. Without trusted friends, relatives or family members to explain the importance of equality, many of Taiwan’s senior citizens may have defaulted to the status quo—“if it ain’t broke, why fix it?” The point they must understand is that a Civil Code that systematically denies Taiwanese citizens full rights is broken and must be revised—a point the Constitutional Court emphatically declared last year. But no one is delivering this message to them.

It comes back to the hard task of persuasion: of broaching uncomfortable topics, initiating family conversations, and sharing more about our lives and perspectives. Though the prospect might horrify many LGBT Taiwanese, this kind of effort may even mean coming out of the closet, to put a real face on the issue.

Persuading families requires LGBT youth to overcome the intense dread of disappointing one’s parents. It might be too risky for some—one Taiwanese man said to me that his father had threatened to “break his legs and kick him out of the house” if he ever turned out to be gay—but many might be surprised by their families’ reactions when faced with reality. Violence and oppression are harder to apply when it’s against people you love. If parents and grandparents understood what was at stake, they would be less likely to deny their own children critical rights.

Educating our peers is comparatively easier, and that battle appears to be largely won. However, to flip the referendum vote and make Taiwan an island truly committed to equality, LGBT activists and allies must gain the support of older generations of Taiwanese voters. On a bad day, the task might feel incredibly hard to tackle. That doesn’t make it any less vital; and it isn’t impossible.

When asked if he would be willing to come out of the closet to persuade his parents how personal the matter is, one Taiwanese business manager said, “I don’t really think that’s realistic.” He added, “I don’t need someone else to legitimize my relationships. I don’t care what they say.” Regardless of electoral outcomes, the LGBT community will persist and survive, even on the margins.

Others are more optimistic. Cheng-Ting Hsieh, a Taiwanese national currently residing abroad, came out to his mother when the constitutional ruling affirming marriage equality was issued. “We need to work with elders,” Hsieh said. “I’m sure they would understand if we gave them the right information.”

In a country ruled by law, rights matter. Equality matters. Legal recognition and social acceptance matter. Taiwanese youth cannot hope everything works out just by outliving their parents. And if we care about being filial, we also have a (Confucian) duty to remonstrate with our parents and divert them from a path of hatred and narrow-mindedness.

By validating the oppression of others, voting against equality hurts all of us and undermines democracy. It’s incumbent on young Taiwanese at home and in the diaspora to communicate, connect, and persuade, and invite our elders to be part of a more tolerant and broad-minded society.

Only by activating the loving kindness inherent in our elders can we surmount the great challenge of bigotry. That work must start today.

(Feature photo taken from the 2017 Taiwan Pride, courtesy of Crystal Liu)