Written by Dung-Shiu Yu.
Image credit: 青鳥行動 by 苦勞網/ Flickr, license: CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
What Happened Recently in Taiwan?
Since May 17th, a growing number of individuals have been gathering around the Legislative Yuan every Tuesday and Friday to protest against KMT and TPP legislators who are aggressively attempting to pass controversial bills without adequate discussion, thereby severely violating the principles of democracy and procedural justice. This ‘Bluebird Movement’ has captured widespread attention not only because it is the largest social movement since the 2019 legalization of same-sex marriage but also because its call for procedural justice reminds people of the Sunflower Movement a decade ago. Local media have dubbed this movement “Sunflower Movement 2.0,” shaping public discourse around it.
On the night when the number of people around the Legislative Yuan reached thirty thousand, international media outlets like TIME, Reuters, and Bloomberg began covering the protest. My feelings were mixed as I read these articles. On the one hand, it was heartening to see mainstream media paying attention to Taiwan, especially given the heightened tensions between Taiwan and the PRC government after Lai Ching-te’s inauguration. On the other hand, many articles quickly framed this movement within the cross-Strait geopolitics and the China factor in Taiwan’s political dynamics. In this article, I take Taiwan’s current domestic political landscapes and the fabric of its civil society into account to provide a different angle to understand this movement from a participant’s point of view. Specifically, I shed light on a unique phenomenon, “grandparents’ topping-up participation,” that has developed through this movement to highlight the emerging intergenerational support network in Taiwan’s civil society.
A Decade of Change in Taiwan
While it is true that many of Taiwan’s issues are related to China, either directly or indirectly, I argue that it is unhealthy and dangerous to confine this movement within the framework of geopolitics. First, the primary calls for this protest focus on legislative self-restraint and procedural justice. For example, common slogans include “It’s not democracy if there is no discussion” (沒有討論 不是民主) and “Retrieve the bills and examine them substantively” (退回法案 實質審查). Second, although the call for procedural justice is reminiscent of the Sunflower Movement ten years ago, the essence of the movement has changed. A decade ago, both the Administrative Yuan and the Legislative Yuan were controlled by the KMT, which is friendly to China, and the controversial bill that triggered the Sunflower Movement was directly related to China. Now, the government has changed, and the bills are not directly linked to China. However, there is news suggesting that the KMT is following the PRC’s reunification strategies, which have motivated some anxious people to join the protests. Although we can still observe some “(Anti-)China factors” in this movement, it is overly simplistic to analyze Taiwan’s massive social movements solely through the lens of geopolitics. What else can we say about Taiwan without mentioning China? It is unhealthy for Taiwan in the long run if we only perceive ourselves as the counterpart of China. Therefore, by staying close to local contexts, we need to find an alternative perspective.
Taiwan’s political landscape has evolved over the past decade, and the fabric of its civil society has also changed, leading to some critical differences this time. Firstly, beyond Facebook and Instagram, the use of the new social media platform “Threads” has facilitated the spread of information about the demonstration. Thanks to its app design and algorithm, which allows users to see posts not only from accounts they follow but also related posts from strangers, information can go viral more easily. Secondly, learning from the Sunflower Movement, this social movement is intentionally decentralized. Several NGOs organize it, none of which identify as the host. Instead, they intentionally avoid allowing any individual or organization to become the “star” of the movement. This is one reason why the movement remains unnamed even after three days of gathering and re-gathering. These days on Threads, numerous participants are using the hashtag “#青鳥行動” (Bluebird Movement) to give protests a name, which emerged anonymously from the public rather than being named by any leading figure in the movement. Lastly, a new form of participation has emerged with a distinctly local flavour: “grandparents’ topping-up participation.”
Grandparents’ Topping-Up Participation: Intergenerational Material and Emotional Support
“Grandparents topping-up participation” (課金公嬤組) attracts young participants with its culturally relatable humour, blending collective memories of online gaming and grandparental care. Many Taiwanese youths have shared experiences of being fed by their grandparents, who always think their grandchildren are hungry. These collective memories, maintained by the still-common practice of skipped-generation rearing, highlight grandparents’ roles in child-rearing. The term “topping-up” refers to using money instead of time to strengthen characters in online games. Thus, combining these two images, the “grandparents topping-up participation” refers to a group of people who, while unable to join the protests physically, are willing to sponsor students who want to protest but cannot afford expensive High-Speed Rail tickets or hotel rooms. After expressing their willingness to support student participation in the protests and connecting with each other on Threads, these “grandparents” formed groups on the communication app Line to facilitate the connection between numerous “grandparents” eager to sponsor and the “grandchildren” in need of financial support. Additionally, grandparents are significant contributors to the provisions group in this movement, using services like Uber Eats or Food Panda to deliver snacks and necessary supplies. These online memes illustrate how participants are overfed by their “grandparents.”
Currently, even though the physical gatherings at the Legislative Yuan have ended, the grandparents’ topping-up participation has expanded into an international fundraising campaign. A group of overseas Taiwanese, calling themselves “overseas grandparents,” have initiated this effort to reserve a billboard in Times Square, New York and enhance the international visibility of the Bluebird Movement and Taiwan’s democracy. The metaphor of “grandparents” continues to serve as a powerful means of emotional and material mobilization.
Figure1. The main character, “democracy grandchild”, is shocked by topping-up relatives, including grandparents, uncles and aunties, who scramble to pay for them. (Source: Threads)
Figure 2. Grandchild fed with food and beverages, chartered car, hotel, tickets, and raincoat. (Source: Threads)
Every social movement involves voluntary donations. However, grandparents’ topping-up participation stands out not for what they did but for who they are. Who are they? Most “grandparents” are young participants of the Sunflower Movement ten years ago who now have more responsibilities and may not be able to protest on the streets but are still galvanized by the collective emotions of the democracy movement. The collective memories of grandparents-grandchild relations and, anti-procedural injustice, anti-China factors have materialized into supplies in the protest. Though only ten or twenty years older than the student participants, they become the youths’ “grandparents,” who always think their “grandchildren” need more supplies. These horizontal connections fostered by Threads—through an algorithm that facilitates encounters between strangers who share interests or political stances—have enabled the expansion of supportive relationships, forming a crucial foundation for participation in this social movement. This intergenerational participation not only shines through the generosity of the “grandparents” but also marks a new era in Taiwan’s democratic movement.
Conclusion: More than the China factors
The fate of these restless islands remains uncertain. However, what we do know is that generation after generation, young people fueled by a fierce passion for democracy have grown after fighting against the KMT’s 47-year-long authoritarianism, against China, and now, building on their predecessors’ legacies, against the abuse of legislative power and procedural injustice. These efforts towards self-improvement in democracy should not be quickly confined within the framework of the cross-Strait geopolitics or US-China relations. Such oversimplification risks neglecting local changes and framing this complex movement too narrowly.
This article does not aim to say that this movement has nothing to do with China. Rather, it invites readers to consider what else can be said about this movement if we step outside the trendy framework of international relations. I believe grandparents’ topping-up participation offers a valuable perspective to understand this movement within a local context, celebrating the special form of intergenerational participation in a post-authoritarian, digital era that still maintains close family relationships. As a Taiwanese, I hope that one day we will not be seen merely as pawns in US-China negotiations but as people on these islands striving for justice, democracy, and, most importantly, their future.
Dung-Shiu Yu is currently an undergraduate student of sociology and anthropology at National Taiwan University and will enrol in the master’s program of sociology at NTU this fall. He is also a columnist for 辣台妹聊性別 and the founder of 七星燃煤立委觀測站, believing in the power of words to change the world.
This article was published as part of a special issue on ‘Bluebird Movement: Legislative Reform Protests in Taiwan’.
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