Taiwan Elections: Test of Nationhood : Asia: Ballot pits ‘mainlanders’ against nationalists. Some fear vote could spur confrontation with China.

Twelve times, Nationalist Party gubernatorial candidate James Soong tried to restart his speech before an animated crowd assembled at a soccer stadium here in west central Taiwan.

Twelve times, supporters of Democratic Progressive Party opponent Chen Ting-nan shouted him down, chanting “traitor” and “Taiwanese vote for Taiwanese.”

Riot police, arranged three rows deep on the stadium floor, watched nervously as the political drama unfolded Monday night. What was supposed to be the country’s first election for a national office--provincial governor of Taiwan--was evolving into a referendum on what constitutes nationhood on this prosperous, crowded island of 21 million people.

Soong, 52, a Mandarin-dialect speaker born in mainland China, represents the longtime ruling elite of “mainlanders” driven to the island from China when Nationalist forces were defeated by the Communists in 1949.

Chen, also 52, a Taiwanese-dialect speaker born on Taiwan, stands for the aspirations of the island’s long-oppressed majority of Taiwanese natives.

Their political collision at the Changhua soccer stadium demonstrated clearly the vitality of the emerging Taiwanese democracy. But it also revealed what some believe is a dangerous trend in nationalist, ethnocentric politics that could drive Taiwan into a confrontation with mainland China.

No other country in Asia has made more progress in developing democratic institutions in recent years than has the Republic of China on Taiwan. After decades of martial law and one-party rule, Taiwan since 1989 has exploded into a passionate political arena and role model for Asia.

In the last year alone, the country has gone to the polls five times, culminating in today’s hotly contested vote for governor and mayor of the country’s two biggest cities, Taipei and Kaohsiung. Lively political rallies have dominated island life for weeks. A national presidential election is set for 1996.

The problem, say some worried Asian specialists, is that this sudden epidemic of democratic debate has pushed the previously taboo subject of national independence to the forefront of the political scene. In Taiwan, they argue, democracy is becoming too much of a good thing.

“There is no question that Taiwan is responding to domestic political pressures that are creating strong impulses to try and muscle out greater political room for itself,” said a senior Western diplomat in Beijing, where Taiwan’s electoral politics are monitored in minute detail. “It is equally clear that a major breakthrough in that area would risk a confrontation or a crisis in the Taiwan Strait of unpredictable scale.”

That is not a true picture, countered a Western observer in Taipei, where risk of a military confrontation is generally downplayed in the foreign community.

“This is a conservative, middle-class voting population,” the observer said. “The last thing they want to do is rattle Beijing’s cages. The last thing they want to do is come out for independence. These are practical people.”

At the root of the independence debate is the principle of “one China.”

Since 1949, both the mainland Communists and ruling Nationalists on Taiwan have publicly maintained the fiction of “one China” that includes both the mainland and the prosperous little island.

Except for a handful of old-timers, however, most people here long ago abandoned the dream of recapturing the mainland.

Meanwhile, tiny Taiwan has emerged as one of the world’s great trading states, the world’s 14th-largest economy and the biggest holder of foreign reserves, with more than $80 billion in its treasury. The average annual income exceeds $10,000--more than 10 times that of neighboring China.

Economically, at least, Taiwan had become a de facto independent state. All it lacked was diplomatic recognition, a national flag and a seat in international bodies. But as the current political campaign has shown, such issues have proven a powerful and irresistible tool for politicians in all camps.

“The question for Taiwan,” said a Western diplomat in Beijing worried about the recent rise of the Taiwan independence movement, “is what it really wants. There are two aspects of independence. One is flags, anthems, membership in the U.N. and all that. The other is having complete control of your own affairs and maybe not having all those little symbols.”

Even local elections are affected by the debate. All three of the country’s three major parties have learned how to use the issue to their advantage or, conversely, to the detriment of their foes.

In the governor’s race, for example, candidate Soong has been damaged by his party’s official--if half-hearted--support for eventual unification with the Chinese mainland. Opinion polls show that most Taiwanese citizens oppose the idea of rejoining the mainland.

Meanwhile, in the important Taipei mayor’s race, Democratic Progressive Party candidate Chen Shui-bian saw his 10-point lead in the polls evaporate under attack from an opponent, New Party candidate Jaw Shao-kang. Jaw won points by charging that Chen’s pro-independence stance would lead Taiwan into a bloody military confrontation with the mainland.

The increasing polarization of Taiwan politics along linguistic and ethnic lines was evident again Friday, the eve of the elections.

At Taipei Municipal Stadium, 50,000 supporters of Jaw waved Republic of China (Taiwan) flags and yellow pennants emblazoned with the party’s slogan: “In Chaotic Times, the Best Choice.” All speeches were in the Mandarin dialect, official language of the Chinese mainland.

Three miles east at the China Trade Center, an even larger Democratic Progressive Party crowd rallied in a parking lot for their candidate, Chen. At this meeting, however, only the Taiwanese dialect was spoken.

In Thursday editions of most leading Chinese-language newspapers, supporters of the Nationalist Party, known here as the Kuomintang, or KMT, took out half-page ads with apocalyptic warnings of the island’s future under the Democratic Progressive Party: “Communist China would use military forces against Taiwan, bringing endless disaster upon us. . . . Companies would move out, there would be huge capital flight, foreign investment would dry up, the stock and property values would crash.”

In the Taipei mayor’s race, the New Party tactic of exploiting a common fear of mainland military intervention effectively shifted attention from Chen’s popular promise to clean up Taipei, plagued by pollution and some of Asia’s most nightmarish traffic. The attack only intensified appeals from Chen’s supporters for Taiwan’s independence.

Once again, the issue of independence for Taiwan dominated the political agenda. Used either offensively or defensively, the independence issue has proved to be an effective hot button for the incipient Taiwanese democracy.

One reason generally cited for the popularity of President Lee Teng-hui, for example, is his high-profile push for a Taiwanese seat in the United Nations.

But it is precisely such actions, responding to democratically induced pressures, say critics, that may be pushing Taiwan into conflict with its big neighbor to the west.

On many occasions, including the recent meeting in Jakarta between President Clinton and mainland Chinese leader Jiang Zemin, China has stated that it will act militarily against Taiwan if the island declares independence.

Pro-independence leaders here say the Chinese are posturing.

“If the mainland attacks Taiwan,” Hsieh Ru-an, 45, a high school sports instructor who was one of those in the Changhua stadium crowd, said confidently, “the international community will support Taiwan. As long as everyone supports democracy, they will all condemn China.”

But others, including some senior U.S. officials, claim that the Chinese threat to invade should be taken seriously, particularly if aging, ailing Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping dies and China becomes embroiled in a political succession battle.

“We worry about a power struggle in China,” said Antonio Chiang, editor of a magazine called Journalist. “It seems that every time there is a problem, they ring a bell. The bell is always Taiwan.”