Taiwan Official Explains $2.08M Charter Fees; Will Top CCP Leaders Reveal Finances?

Among Taiwan's various outlying islands, Kinmen, Matsu, and Dongsha hold important positions in defence. (Google Maps/Dajiyuan illustration)

[People News] Recently, Taiwan's Executive Yuan Director Zhuo Rongtai travelled to Japan, and upon his return to Taiwan, he unexpectedly detailed the charter flight expenses and ticket invoices during a press conference. This news continues to generate significant attention. Meanwhile, the other side is closely monitoring this situation. Some viewers might wonder, isn't it just about watching a game? Why is it being framed as a diplomatic breakthrough and corruption allegations?

The 'supervisor' under the spotlight: Democracy allows for 'finding faults'

Let's set the scene. On March 7, the Tokyo Dome was packed with spectators as the World Baseball Classic (WBC) took place, featuring Taiwan's team against the Czech team. Taiwan's Executive Yuan Director Zhuo Rongtai was present in the audience, personally cheering for the Taiwan team. This event quickly captured the attention of mainstream Japanese media, which reported that this was 'the first time in 54 years since the severance of diplomatic ties that a sitting Executive Yuan Director has stepped onto Japanese soil.' Many diplomatic experts view this not merely as attending a game, but as a 'significant diplomatic breakthrough.'

Some may question: Aren't Taiwan-Japan relations generally good? Why is a visit to Japan considered a 'breakthrough'? The reality is that due to the political taboos established after the severance of ties in 1972, Taiwan's Executive Yuan Directors have been barred from entering Japan for over 50 years. While there has been considerable civil interaction between the two sides, an invisible wall has persisted at the official level.

Zhuo Rongtai's recent appearance at the Tokyo Dome, while publicly described as a 'private viewing of a game,' represents a significant breach in the international political landscape, akin to drilling a hole in a wall. This is why the Chinese Communist Party's (中共) Ministry of Foreign Affairs reacted with such anger, accusing Japan of 'playing with fire and skirting the edge.'

To avoid diplomatic sensitivities and not provoke Beijing, the Japanese side intentionally downplayed the official nature of the visit. Japan's official representative, Kihara Minoru, referred to Zhuo Rongtai's trip at a press conference as 'of a private nature,' but media outlets like Sankei Shimbun (《產經新聞》) noted that the high-level security arrangements clearly had the tacit approval of the Japanese government.

This visit should have been a moment of great pride. However, when Director Zhuo returned to Taipei Songshan Airport that night, he was met not with applause but with a barrage of questions and scepticism. In the days that followed, the incident grew increasingly contentious, culminating in a highly symbolic moment in Taiwan's democratic history—' the Executive Yuan head personally reviewing the bill on camera.'

In the Legislative Yuan, the atmosphere was particularly tense. Opposition parties, specifically the Kuomintang and the People’s Party, which are currently not in power and tasked with overseeing the government, acted like 'supervisors,' scrutinising every detail. They raised questions such as: if this was indeed a private viewing, why was the air force base's tarmac used? The charter flight cost only 2.08 million; did China Airlines offer a discounted rate to curry favour with high-ranking officials? Who is covering the expenses for the bodyguards' accommodations and meals?

In response to intense scrutiny, Zhuo Rongtai did not use 'state secrets' as an excuse, nor did he allow the propaganda department to suppress the news. Instead, at the press conference, he pulled out a thick kraft paper bag and, in front of cameras from media outlets across Taiwan, methodically revealed the documents inside:

Among them was a contract for a charter flight project with China Airlines worth 2.08 million New Taiwan dollars; a remittance slip for a sports event ticket costing 18,500 New Taiwan dollars; a receipt for local transportation in Japan totalling 200,000 yen; and even a bank slip for exchanging 45,000 New Taiwan dollars into Japanese yen. It is remarkable that the highest executive of a country had to count these scattered pieces of paper under the glare of cameras, akin to a minor employee undergoing a financial audit, merely to demonstrate that he 'did not take advantage of public funds by even a single cent.'

Such a scenario might be perceived as 'losing face for officials' in nations where power is unchecked. However, this exemplifies the most rigorous aspect of Taiwan's system: power must not only function transparently but also withstand scrutiny. Even if one believes they are achieving a 'diplomatic breakthrough,' any suspicion of conflating public and private interests will prompt investigations from the opposition party, and judicial authorities have even categorised it as a 'black gold group' case for further inquiry.

Unveiling the 'cover-up': the black box is most afraid of asset transparency.

As internal conflicts in Taiwan escalated, the Chinese Communist Party's (CCP) official media and propaganda apparatus quickly jumped in. They eagerly shared the criticisms from Taiwan's opposition parties, as if they had stumbled upon a new continent, labelling them as 'corruption among high-ranking officials of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)' and asserting that 'all crows are black under heaven.' This reflects a deeply insidious logic of 'political cover-up': it exploits the 'friction noise' produced by the 'high transparency' of democratic societies to argue that officials in democratic systems are also corrupt and embezzle funds.

The CCP aims to create an illusion for the people of the mainland: look, Taiwan's officials also waste money and face criticism, which suggests that democracy is ineffective. However, it deliberately obscures a critical point—Zhuo Rongtai (卓榮泰) is criticised due to information transparency, while CCP officials escape scrutiny because their information is kept hidden. In mainland China, it is simply unthinkable for high-ranking officials, like those in Taiwan, to be publicly criticised by the media, pressured by opposition parties, or even ordinary citizens.

When the CCP's Premier travels abroad, or when the party leader constructs a grand mausoleum for his father, which mainland media would dare to ask: 'How much did this trip cost?' Which so-called 'democratic party' would have the courage to demand the disclosure of spending details? Such matters are all deemed 'state secrets.' This 'silence' does not stem from their integrity, but rather from their control over power, effectively silencing all dissent.

The World Bank highlighted in its "Integrity Report" that the property disclosure system serves as a powerful deterrent against corrupt practices. Research conducted by the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) also shows that in most developed countries, the property declaration information of senior officials is available to the public to varying extents, underscoring the system's commitment to transparency and accountability. In Taiwan, the "Public Officials Property Declaration Act" has made the mortgages and savings of Zhuo Rongtai, Vice President Hsiao Mei-chin, and even President Lai Ching-te publicly accessible.

According to the latest issue of the "Integrity Special Edition" released by the Taiwan Control Yuan on February 26 this year, Lai Ching-te has only 2.31 million New Taiwan dollars in savings, which is approximately 510,000 Chinese yuan. For a head of state, this amount might not even be sufficient to purchase a small bathroom in an apartment in Beijing or Shanghai. Even more surprising is that he still has an outstanding mortgage of 7.42 million New Taiwan dollars.

What does this imply? In Taiwan, even if you hold the highest office, every cent of your income, every loan, and even the insurance policy under your wife's name must be fully disclosed for the public to scrutinise. The president, like any ordinary middle-aged person, also has to worry about repaying a mortgage. This deeply ingrained culture of transparency is precisely why officials are deterred from engaging in corruption.

In contrast, on the mainland, the system of the Chinese Communist Party emphasises "internal reporting." In simpler terms, this means that the referees and the athletes are part of the same group, supervising themselves, which does not constitute true oversight but rather a sharing of spoils.

The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) often proclaims its commitment to "serve the people," yet it does not even have the courage to show the public a "property declaration form." This type of democracy, where a president is required to "publicly disclose even mortgage loans," is exactly what the CCP fears most and seeks to undermine.

Doomsday Retreat: The Corruption Behind the Sinking Ship Plan

Beijing's delight in Zhu Rongtai's (Zhu Rongtai) predicament, along with its incitement and provocation, stems not from some alleged charter flight bill but from the fact that he, as Taiwan's Premier, visited Japan and touched on a sensitive issue that the CCP cannot afford to provoke. After Zhu's trip to Japan, the CCP Foreign Ministry spokesperson Guo Jiakun (Guo Jiakun) described him using terms like scheming, sneaky, and furtive during a routine press conference while answering questions from foreign media. Such language can only be expected from the CCP's wolf warrior foreign ministry. However, if we turn our attention to Japan, we find that the CCP was also dealt a significant humiliation by Japan.

In December of last year, as Japanese Prime Minister Kishi Sanae (Kishi Sanae) made the statement that "Taiwan is in trouble," which led to a freezing of Sino-Japanese relations, the Japanese cabinet publicly disclosed its assets. Kishi Sanae's assets were revealed to be only 32.06 million yen, approximately 1.46 million RMB. This figure sparked a massive uproar on the internet in mainland China, with netizens commenting, "Even a village party secretary could easily surpass the Japanese Prime Minister." Some even expressed admiration for her just based on this.

Why does Kishi Sanae feel confident in disclosing her assets? Because she is a genuinely elected official, and every penny of her wealth must withstand legal scrutiny. In contrast, the seven members of the CCP's Standing Committee do not even dare to disclose how many properties they own; would they have the audacity to publicly reveal their assets?

From Xu Caihou and Guo Boxiong to the recently ousted He Weidong and Miao Hua, the official reports from the Communist Party of China consistently use the same phrase: 'the amount is particularly huge.' But just how huge is it? They are reluctant to disclose this information. Once figures in the hundreds of billions are revealed, the Communist Party's claim of 'serving the people wholeheartedly' would collapse in an instant.

According to public reports from the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection, over the past decade, the number of party members and officials under investigation has reached a staggering 4.65 million.

Corrupt officials understand that without the Communist Party, they would have no opportunity for corruption. If the Communist Party were to fall, it would not only lose its power and positions but also risk facing accountability. In the underground novel 'Heaven's Anger,' the author quotes Hao Xiangshou, deputy director of the municipal party office, who reveals a party secret: 'Corruption makes our regime more stable.'

Are you aware of the Communist Party's 'Shipwreck Plan'? Those high-ranking officials who daily proclaim patriotism on television and in the media, inciting public hatred towards the United States and Japan, have already transferred their families and assets to what they refer to as 'hostile countries' through various means. An audit by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists found that there are over 20,000 offshore clients from China and Hong Kong in the British Virgin Islands alone.

According to a report by Reuters, in the case of Zhou Yongkang alone, the confiscated assets amount to as much as 90 billion yuan. Additionally, the notorious railway ministry corruption case involved illicit funds often reaching 60 billion yuan. Moreover, international investigative organisations have indicated that the Jiang Zemin family possesses overseas assets totalling an astronomical figure exceeding 500 billion dollars.

This is why the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is so fearful of the property disclosure law set to take effect in the United States in 2025. Previously, they viewed the Atlantic as a safe haven; now, Americans are asserting, 'I know how many cards you have and how many properties you own.' This type of 'international audit' is precisely the critical vulnerability that undermines the 'sunken ship plan.'

In comparison, Zhuo Rongtai's bill of over two million New Taiwan dollars raises the question: where is the distinction between integrity and corruption? One individual is sweating over a few tens of thousands, while another is comfortably managing hundreds of billions in a 'black box.'

The CCP ridicules Taiwanese officials for being monitored, but this is a reflection of their own insecurity. They fear that the citizens of the mainland will realise: officials can indeed be questioned, public airports are not private landing zones for officials, and the bills of the head of the Executive Yuan can be scrutinised. In a civilised contractual society, when officials spend taxpayers' money, every cent spent is essentially utilising the assets of the 'shareholders.'

Only when those in power understand that failing to clarify their bills could lead to their ousting will they develop a 'sense of fear.' This 'sense of fear' is what guarantees that officials will serve the public. The so-called 'harmony' where leaders are celebrated during public appearances while the media remains silent actually conceals a group of insiders ready to abandon China at any moment, fleeing with funds, as they observe this hollowed-out vessel and strategise their final escape.

Taiwanese citizens should not be misled, and those on the mainland need to awaken.

For thousands of years, the political landscape has seen the rise and fall of powers, both ancient and modern. Ultimately, we can always discern who is virtuous and who is corrupt. The current situation, to put it simply, is a battle between democracy and dictatorship. We must uphold independent thought and recognise true good and evil.

Today, our discussion of Zhuo Rongtai's various bills is not about politics, but rather about how the system is intricately linked to the quality of life and happiness of each individual. In Taiwan, if you suspect that a director has embezzled tens of thousands of public funds, you can demand that they publicly account for it in the Legislative Yuan. In contrast, in mainland China, if you suspect a leader has spent hundreds of millions on a trip, you might simply disappear for 'subverting the state.'

The notion of 'special national conditions that are hard to manage' has never been a valid excuse for official corruption. This 'noise' and 'accounting' process is, in fact, a safeguard for the quality of life of ordinary citizens.

Having problems is not the issue; the real issue is the suppression of voices that highlight these problems. When issues arise in the United States, Japan, or Taiwan, the media reacts vigorously, and whether it’s the head of state or the prime minister, they are compelled to respond to investigations immediately. However, when the Chinese Communist Party faces issues, their first response is to 'silence those who raise questions,' to block information, and to ensure that the world remains quiet.

Friends in Taiwan, as you exercise your right to supervise, do not be swayed by the propaganda of the Chinese Communist Party. Your votes and your inquiries into officials are essential to safeguarding your happiness. Do not yearn for a 'black box tranquillity' simply because you dislike the noise; that is the tranquillity of slaves.

Fellow compatriots in mainland China, we must cherish the true essence of China, not the party that exploits us. When a country's officials are afraid to disclose their assets publicly, and when its leaders cannot be questioned, the legitimacy of that regime has already vanished.

In summary, a system that compels those in power to sweat and pay out of their own pockets to prove their innocence is the true protector of ordinary people.
△