You can sign the Petition to Exempt Permanent Residents of Taiwan from Renouncing their Original Nationality(s) to Become Taiwan Citizens through this link. If you experience difficulty signing, read this.

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Not long ago, I renewed my passport and thus switched my permanent resident ID to the new number that all “alien residents” will eventually receive. This new number follows the format of a Republic of China national ID, but anyone looking at my number who understands the system will be immediately aware that it is not the number of a Taiwanese national. In Taiwan, male citizen ID numbers start with 1, female with 2, male foreign resident with 8, and female foreign residents like myself get the last number — 9.  We’re still aliens, after all.

That doesn’t particularly bother me, but then I went to update this data at one of my banks. During the update, I was asked if I’d like a credit card.

It’s still difficult (but theoretically possible) for foreigners, even permanent residents, to get a credit card in Taiwan — let alone something big like a mortgage. I said yes, and the clerk made a quick call to get the process started. A few minutes later, a manager came over and explained that I could not, in fact, apply for a credit card without a guarantor, but perhaps I could bring in my husband or a family member to sign for me?

“My husband’s a foreigner too,” I explained. “But I’ve maintained a good balance for a long time.”

It didn’t matter. Being a foreigner meant an automatic rejection.

I can only imagine what banks will say whenever we’re ready to buy our forever home, as we plan to retire in Taiwan. I do not know what we’ll do if we’re forced to rent into our dotage; not only can we probably not afford to, but landlords aren’t keen on elderly tenants. I truly don’t know how we could ever afford to buy something outright. Although we don’t want to leave, this may be the sad, stupid, and entirely preventable issue that forces us out of Taiwan someday.

First world problems, you might say, and you wouldn’t be entirely wrong. That we can consider home ownership at all puts us in such a privileged position. 

Difficulties such as these were just some of the many issues discussed at the event “Immigration and Taiwan’s Future: A Discussion About What It Means to Be Taiwanese Today.” The event was held last Thursday by Crossroads, an organization dedicated to promote internationalism as a core aspect of Taiwan’s future. 

The event marked the kick-off of a campaign to amend nationality laws in Taiwan to allow for a reasonable pathway for permanent residents to obtain dual nationality, ending the current double standard where citizens born Taiwanese are able to take up a second nationality — or even multiple ones — without issue, but those wishing to naturalize must renounce their current nationality, in some cases risking statelessness, if they have no ancestors who were citizens of the Republic of China.

Such a change would be life-changing for the many permanent residents who consider Taiwan home and have an overall positive impact on Taiwan, noted Crossroads founder David Chang. It would not only be part of a solution to Taiwan’s future population worries, but help Taiwan to be both more international and more internationally competitive, both being stated goals of the Lai administration.

The campaign consists not only of meetings and discussions, but a petition to the government seeking an official response that any Taiwan resident or citizen can sign. Crossroads is a nonprofit, and would also be grateful for donations.

Specifically, the campaign asks for an exemption to Article 9 of the nationality law, requiring foreigners wishing to naturalize in Taiwan to renounce their original nationality.

In terms of demographics, this wouldn’t impact Taiwan much: Chang noted that Taiwan has about 38,000 permanent residents, and the number that would qualify for dual nationality were this change to be made would amount to less than 1% of Taiwan’s population. There wouldn’t be a “flood” of immigrants, as almost everybody who would qualify already lives here.

The event included supportive comments from legislators from both the DPP and KMT, indicating some bipartisan support. These were Wang Ting-yu (王定宇), Chen Kuan-ting (陳冠廷) and Mei-ling Loh (羅美玲), an immigrant of Malaysian descent, and Sean Liao (廖偉翔) of the KMT. 

Wang noted that dual nationality would not just be a favor to Taiwan’s permanent foreign resident population, and certainly not just an easy access route to social benefits. Nationality is also an obligation, he pointed out, including military service for some. “When [these residents] grow older and face difficulties, they can receive benefits after they’ve fulfilled their obligations…Taiwan is our shared home, a place we all cherish,” he said.

Many of the speakers on Thursday outlined issues far more severe than an inability to buy a home in Taiwan. In fact, some view the whole dual nationality debate as a white person’s folly, something rich Western expats talk about because they just want to take, take, take.

In fact, we want change because we don’t just want access, we also want to contribute, whether that’s by running a business more smoothly, doing military service, engaging in civic life or in any number of ways. It’s difficult to contribute as much as we’d like, however, when we can’t vote and thus have no legislative representation, and when our future in Taiwan  is not necessarily assured.

Thursday’s gathering showed this is far from the truth: those of us seeking dual nationality come from around the world — the West, yes, but also Pakistan, Vietnam, China, India and beyond. Not everyone sharing this vision is born wealthy or even middle-class, and not all are wealthy now. To understand this issue, we must understand the diversity of the people dealing with it.

Wu Yi-feng, a Vietnamese immigrant who came to Taiwan as a foreign bride, spoke about discrimination, both individual and systematic, against Southeast Asians in Taiwan. She discussed some Taiwanese view people like her as “polluting” the local culture, or commenting that as a Vietnamese woman, how could she teach her children as “education is so poor in Vietnam”. She discussed her husband’s family prohibiting her from teaching her children her native language, and discrimination she faced while looking for work even as a citizen.

“If you give up [your original nationality] but don’t get Taiwanese citizenship, you become stateless,” Wu pointed out. But if you don’t, and remain Vietnamese? “There are cases where a foreign bride is brought in, but doesn’t give birth to a boy. She’s sent back and another wife is brought in.”

“For a country to develop, you need people,” Wu emphasized. “But, are we outsiders, or insiders?”

“What am I going to do when I get old,” added Shi Bao-li, a Chinese immigrant from Tianjin. “This is a democracy, we should be able to talk about these issues.”

Sam Khan spoke eloquently of being forced to choose between two identities, Taiwanese and Pakistani, as well as the impact on his family. “I really love Taiwan, but I feel like Taiwan failed my daughter. I also feel like I failed her too,” he noted. “Taiwan is the only place she knows. She has a Taiwanese father, she goes to a Taiwanese school, she speaks Taiwanese. Culturally she is just as Taiwanese as any other Taiwanese kid you can see on the street. And yet, she is not allowed to become a citizen. [According to the government] these laws exist to ensure loyalty. Taiwan should have no reason to question her loyalty. Just as they don’t question the loyalty of children born in the United States and other countries to Taiwanese parents.”

Khan didn’t point this out, but I will: the current law is blatant Han ethnonationalism. Why? Because these ancestors who were citizens of the ROC never actually had to live in Taiwan for their descendants to be considered, in essence, Taiwanese. If your grandparents fled Jiangsu for the US around 1945 and you were born and raised there, and nobody in your family has ever set foot in Taiwan, you get to be Taiwanese without renouncing anything.

Khan’s daughter has spent her entire life here, as has another speaker, Manav Mehta. They cannot legally embrace both of their identities. I have lived here for 18 years, would defend this country with my life, and intend to stay for whatever years I have remaining. I cannot be both Taiwanese and American.

In fact, as with many who attended the Crossroads event, I’ve been asked why I don’t renounce my US citizenship. My primary reason isn’t related to my passport, or the fact that it’s essentially impossible to reinstate. I have family in the United States, some of whom are aging. It’s quite possible that at some point, they will require my support. I’m not rich, so any medium-term return to my country of origin would require finding a job there. I can’t do that if I’m not a citizen.

Taiwanese will often emphasize the importance of family in local culture. Many sacrifice quite a bit for their own families — it’s a part of being filial. I’m filial too. I have to wonder, does Taiwan not want me to care about my family? Am I too filial for the Taiwanese government? 

Entrepreneur Elias Ek spoke of his gratitude for his life in Taiwan and everything he’s built because of it, delivering his entire talk in Mandarin. Other speakers echoed that sentiment as well. Ek also mentioned, however, that no matter how much he contributes to Taiwan’s economy through his business ventures, and no matter how long he lives here or assimilates , he’s forever an “alien”.

Discussing the ‘forever an alien’ issue, Roma Mehta wondered, “loans, credit cards, opportunities — at what point are we considered not a flight risk? When can we be valued for what we have contributed, what we contribute, what we will contribute. We are part of the intrinsic fabric that weaves this place together.”

The assumption of flight risk has bothered me as well. Talking to a local — just about any local — and I’ll be asked if I’m a citizen yet. When I don’t, they ask why not. I briefly describe the problems with the nationality law, and most aren’t aware that the double standard exists. After all, they probably know someone who is both Taiwanese and something else. 

Then I discuss how difficult it is to live a normal life here when I can’t achieve part of that “Taiwanese dream” of home ownership. “Of course,” they might say. “The bank is afraid you’ll leave without paying.” This makes perfect sense to them. It makes no sense to me.

I’ve lived here for 18 years, and I am not wealthy. Rich Taiwanese skip out on their debts by self-exiling abroad more than one would think, but they weren’t viewed as a flight risk at the time. Many Taiwanese hold passports of convenience, often simply to gain entry to international schools. Some with Taiwanese citizenship have never lived here. They can get loans, but I can’t. They’re not a security threat, but I am. Their loyalty isn’t questioned, but mine is. They wouldn’t stick around to fight for Taiwan if China invaded, but I would. I call shenanigans.

Lloyd Roberts, one of the final speakers of the night, outlined the policy paper that Eiger Law sent to the government about this issue. While the response indicated openness to public feedback, officials also pointed to the importance of national security when making laws in Taiwan’s interest.

Those in attendance understand that national security is an issue, and Taiwan has the right to make laws in its own interest. The question, asked audience member Caroline Fried, is this: what steps do we have to take to convince them that dual nationality is in the national interest?

I would take that one step further: how can we convince the government that, were this tiny slice of Taiwan’s population to become dual nationals, we would not be a national security risk? In fact, that a reasonable path to dual nationality is just as low a security risk as assuming the loyalty of anyone whose ancestor was a Republic of China citizen, regardless of their ties to Taiwan?

We’ve built lives here. What affects Taiwan also affects us. We contribute, and want to contribute more, but for many of us, lack of access to dual nationality does inhibit our ability to do so, and in some cases, our ability to not just work but also grow old in Taiwan.

In other words, as Legislator Wang pointed out, Taiwan is our shared home, and we all cherish it.

(Featured photo by Photo by nappy on Pexels)

Jenna has lived and worked in Taipei for two decades and takes a particular interest in Taiwanese culture, society and politics. She blogs at http://laorencha.blogspot.com
Jenna Lynn Cody