Written by Gunter Schubert.
Image credit: 朱立倫/ Facebook.
Taiwan’s “big recall movement” has finally come to an end.
After the second round on August 23 confirmed the results of the first vote in late July—with no single Kuomintang (KMT) legislator recalled—it is timely to review the debates among observers and consider what this campaign reveals about Taiwan’s democracy.
Three major narratives have crystallized since the July recall vote.
The first one, which may be called the “defiant” narrative, is popular among Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)-leaning academics and party supporters. Grounded in the belief that the KMT is selling Taiwan out to China and undermining its democracy, this view holds that recalling all directly elected KMT parliamentarians was not only legitimate but even necessary for Taiwan’s survival. The KMT, critics argue, has repeatedly demonstrated its bad faith by ramming through bills that weaken the political system and Taiwan’s defense capabilities, serving the island republic on a golden plate to Xi Jinping.
Even though no KMT officeholder was ultimately recalled, this narrative insists that the outcome does not disprove the accusations. Legislators may have survived in their own constituencies largely thanks to the party machine’s efficiency in mobilizing voters. Yet most Taiwanese, according to this interpretation, still agree with the government that the KMT cannot be trusted and must be weakened by every possible means.
In this light, the “big recall movement” may have failed in its immediate aim—but it succeeded in galvanizing civil society. For the first time since the Sunflower Movement, citizens came together to resist the existential threat represented by the KMT. This legacy, its advocates say, will endure as a reminder that Taiwanese must stand united and fight for their future. Thus, the “defiant” narrative claims victory—not in numbers, but in moral legitimacy and in revitalizing Taiwan’s democratic spirit.
The second major interpretation, the “pessimist” narrative, adopts a far more critical stance toward the recall campaign. Its starting point is the reminder that recalls are designed to punish individual politicians for misbehavior or incompetence, not to attack entire parties or opposing ideological positions. What may be legally permissible is not necessarily politically legitimate.
Yet the deeper concern here is with Taiwan’s party system itself and its relentless polarization. Because the legislature and presidency are controlled by different parties, compromise ought to be the natural outcome. Instead, politics has become an unending zero-sum game. Opponents are treated as enemies: KMT politicians are smeared as Chinese collaborators, while DPP leaders are branded as authoritarians, even Nazis, in the making. Even if such rhetoric is partly strategic performance, it reinforces distrust and blocks genuine dialogue.
The legislature is locked in stalemate, the ruling party and opposition are estranged, and cooperation becomes unthinkable. “No trust, no risk, no compromise”—that is the reality. The “pessimist” narrative therefore warns that Taiwan’s institutions will erode over time, as citizens grow alienated from their own democracy. This reading situates Taiwan within a broader global trend of democratic regression, most visibly in the United States, long held up as Taiwan’s model. From this perspective, the “big recall movement” was not a sign of democratic vitality but of democratic backsliding: no winners, only losers, and grave risks for the future.
Finally, there is a third interpretation, which may be called the “optimist” narrative. It emphasizes the wisdom of the Taiwanese electorate as the true stabilizer of the democratic system. According to this view, the recall campaign represented a dangerous overreach—an attempt to overturn an elected parliamentary majority by extraordinary means. The voters themselves recognized this and decisively put a stop to it.
Indeed, some targeted KMT legislators received even more votes in the recall ballot than in the 2024 general election—a striking sign of the public’s sensitivity to partisan excess. This suggests that Taiwan’s democracy has deep bottom-up foundations, and that citizens will not allow political elites to destabilize the system. However much parties may overplay their hand, the people will ultimately ensure that democratic institutions endure. From this angle, the outcome should inspire confidence in the resilience of Taiwan’s political culture.
Which of these narratives best captures Taiwan’s reality? Social scientists will soon test them with surveys and statistical analysis. Yet it seems to me that this exercise risks missing the larger point. All three narratives, in their different ways, are products of dysfunctional political practice, grounded in a political culture that demands urgent scrutiny. For a democracy to remain strong, certain rules must be internalized by all political actors. Otherwise, elections, a parliament, and separation of powers become empty rituals. Democratically elected majorities must be respected. Compromise is inevitable. Negotiation and the acceptance of temporary defeat are indispensable. Everyday democratic politics must never be treated as a fight for survival.
In Taiwan’s case, one principle is particularly crucial: the China threat must not be instrumentalized to delegitimize domestic opponents. This threat is real for every citizen and every party, and it requires a unified response. If Taiwan’s political culture does not evolve toward compromise, modesty, and respect, democracy will eventually regress from within—regardless of how vibrant it looks on the surface or how rational voters appear at election time.
Democracy demands more than the pursuit of partisan agendas. It requires leaders who recognize that electoral victory brings an obligation to the common good, not a mandate to push narrow interests or even seize spoils for their own side. Whatever the long-term repercussions of the “big recall movement,” one conclusion is clear: this time, at least, China is not to blame.
This article is republished from Commonwealth Magazine.
Taiwan Insight 