Written by Gunter Schubert.
Image credit: 鄭麗文/ Facebook.
I have been closely watching the KMT since the election of its new chairwoman, Cheng Li-wun, trying to understand two critical questions about the party’s prospects in upcoming elections — and perhaps about its future relevance in Taiwan politics more generally. First, what exactly does the party stand for in terms of cross-strait policy? Second, how convincing is its approach likely to be to Taiwan’s voters, particularly the middle-of-the-road voters who tend to decide elections?
In conversations with KMT supporters and officials over recent weeks, I have found little consensus beyond familiar formulaic statements: “We need to talk to China.” “The DPP is provoking war.” “Leaning too heavily toward the United States is dangerous.” None of this amounts to a coherent policy. So, what exactly does the KMT want, and where is the party heading under Cheng Li-wun’s leadership?
To answer these questions, it is useful to begin with Cheng’s own public statements. One of the most revealing interviews she gave appeared in the South China Morning Post on May 11, shortly after her six-day visit to mainland China, during which she also met Xi Jinping.
The cornerstone of Cheng Li-wun’s approach remains the “1992 Consensus.” Traditionally, this has meant “one China with respective interpretations,” a formula long central to the KMT’s China policy. Yet during her recent visit to the mainland, Cheng did not use that wording at all. Instead, she repeatedly adopted the formula “1992 Consensus, opposing Taiwan independence” (九二共識、反對台獨), language closely mirroring Xi Jinping’s own formulation.
Cheng describes her trip to China as an effort to “resolve misunderstandings,” “stabilise the relationship,” and thereby “maintain the status quo.” Any change to that status quo, she insists, must happen peacefully, serve the welfare of people on both sides of the Strait, and respect the will of Taiwan’s people.
At this point, however, one expects a discussion of how these principles would translate into concrete policy. Instead, Cheng offers little substance. She merely advises proceeding “one step at a time,” echoing Xi Jinping’s call to move “steadily and pragmatically.” Rather than outlining a detailed policy programme, she pivots to criticising the DPP government, accusing it of “de-Sinicisation” and of provoking hostility from Beijing.
Most notably, Cheng argues that a majority of Taiwanese do not want war, prefer peaceful exchanges, and do not identify with the DPP’s cross-strait policy. Cheng therefore promises that the KMT will provide “a clearer, more robust cross-strait vision” capable of restoring public trust and proving that peace is attainable. This already appears to foreshadow what may become the KMT’s central message for the 2028 presidential election: supporting the KMT’s cross-strait route is the only way to secure peace. Yet once again, Cheng leaves undefined what exactly this “route” would mean in practical policy terms.
Instead, she turns to questions of identity and civilisation. Cheng emphasises a shared Chinese cultural identity, arguing that people on both sides of the Strait are “inheritors of Chinese civilisation.” According to her, Taiwanese and Chinese identities are not mutually exclusive: “I am Taiwanese, I am Chinese — these identities coexist.” She further argues that China’s modernisation and growing national power are producing an increasingly influential Chinese culture. Ordinary Taiwanese, she claims, can already see how modern China has become and, if they remove the “tinted glasses” of politics, will recognise that both Taiwan and mainland China are stewards of the same broader civilisation.
When discussing her meeting with Xi Jinping, Cheng stated that she sensed “sheer sincerity” and patience in Beijing’s approach to resolving cross-strait differences, provided Taiwan honours the “1992 Consensus” and opposes Taiwan independence. She also insisted that Xi made no remarks about KMT-CCP cooperation on unification, even though official Chinese statements after the meeting suggested exactly that.
On defence policy, Cheng strongly criticises the DPP government, accusing it of turning Taiwan’s defence budget into a “black box” vulnerable to corruption and waste. In her view, stricter legislative oversight is necessary.
Cheng also addressed Taiwan’s position within broader great-power rivalry. Ahead of the anticipated Xi-Trump summit, she argued that Taiwan “must not become a bargaining chip” between major powers and should maintain its own voice and agency. At the same time, she emphasised that the Taiwan issue is, for Beijing, “a matter of principle.”
The interview concludes with Cheng framing the 2028 election as a stark choice between war and peace. According to her, the KMT’s roadmap “is designed to ensure peace and avoid conflict,” while the DPP, by implication, represents the opposite.
I do not take issue with Cheng Li-wun’s self-identification as Chinese or with her embrace of Chinese culture. Nor do I object to the KMT’s longstanding support for the “1992 Consensus.” What strikes me instead is the absence of a concrete policy and Cheng’s apparent willingness to ignore Xi Jinping’s own interpretation of that consensus.
Since Xi’s 2019 New Year’s address, it is clear that Beijing no longer accepts “different interpretations” of the “1992 Consensus.” In Xi’s formulation at the time, and in the 2022 PRC White Paper, The Taiwan Question and China’s Reunification in the New Era (《台湾问题与新时代中国统一事业》), the “1992 Consensus” has been unequivocally linked to the “one country, two systems” framework applied in Hong Kong and Macau, leaving little to no room for the Republic of China as a lasting political entity.
I assume Cheng Li-wun understands this as well as anyone else in the KMT. Yet she nevertheless seems to believe that by endorsing the “1992 Consensus” and opposing Taiwan independence, a KMT-led government could restore the more cooperative atmosphere of the Ma Ying-jeou years. But today’s geopolitical circumstances are fundamentally different. The strategic rivalry between China and the United States has intensified dramatically, and the political space that once existed for rapprochement through trade, investment, and tourism agreements has largely disappeared. As a result, a future KMT government would likely face growing pressure from Beijing to move toward deeper economic and political integration. In Chinese political culture, belonging to “one family” also comes with obligations.
At the same time, Cheng Li-wun’s criticism of the DPP government blurs the KMT’s position on national defence. It reinforces the impression that the party favours a risky form of appeasement toward China. Legislative oversight of defence spending is normal in democracies. What is unusual, however, is insisting on item-by-item approval after procurement agreements have already been negotiated with foreign governments, as the KMT has done regarding U.S. arms sales. This effectively turns long-term defence procurement into a rolling political bargaining process and reflects what Cheng herself described in the SCMP interview as “zero trust” in the DPP government.
There may also be a deeper issue at work. The KMT’s behaviour creates the impression that Taiwan cannot simultaneously strengthen its own defences and win Beijing’s trust. Yet this contradicts a long-standing and well-proven principle of international politics: si vis pacem, para bellum — if you want peace, prepare for war.
For many who sympathise with Taiwan, the KMT’s position is increasingly difficult to understand unless one assumes the party has resigned itself to the logic expressed in Thucydides’ Melian Dialogue: “The strong do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must.” It is difficult to imagine that such thinking will persuade a majority of Taiwan’s voters in 2028.
In the end, the KMT’s China policy, as articulated by Chairwoman Cheng, appears largely devoid of concrete policy content. Instead, it is heavily ideological, shaped by deep mistrust of the ruling party and by a risky belief in China’s goodwill once Taiwan accepts Beijing’s interpretation of the “1992 Consensus” and the “one China principle.” Cheng Li-wun nevertheless seems determined to continue down this path — and to bring the KMT with her.
Gunter Schubert is Chair Professor of Greater China Studies and Director of the European Research Center on Contemporary Taiwan (ERCCT) at the University of Tübingen. This text is a revised and extended version of an op-ed published by The Commonwealth Magazine on May 21st.