Written by Cho-han Hsiung
Image credit: CNA (Taiwan Central News Agency)
China’s Ethnic Unity and Progress Promotion Law entered into force on 1 July 2026, just over two weeks after Taiwan’s National Security Bureau launched a new portal inviting people inside China and overseas to submit information on Chinese political, military, economic and social developments. The portal marked a strategic shift in Taipei’s cross-Strait posture, moving from defensive counterespionage to a more active attempt to impose reciprocal costs on the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). That strategy, however, now operates in a more restrictive environment. Although the Ethnic Unity Law was adopted before the portal’s launch and should not be treated solely as a tailored response, its extraterritorial provisions could still deter potential sources by increasing the legal and personal consequences of cooperating with Taiwan.
Yet the same pressure that may deter cooperation could also create an opening for Taiwan. As Beijing extends its control over Chinese citizens overseas, more dissidents, politically disaffected individuals, and ordinary people facing state pressure may seek to distance themselves from the Chinese government. Their firsthand knowledge of coercive practices and overseas influence networks could strengthen Taiwan’s counterintelligence capacity. Realising this potential, however, requires Taiwan to resolve its security dilemma. Taipei must provide credible legal protection, asylum pathways and long-term safeguards for those willing to cooperate, while still identifying and disrupting individuals acting on behalf of the Chinese state. Without a framework capable of separating hostile actors from people living under Beijing’s pressure, Taiwan risks losing valuable intelligence while reinforcing the suspicion that already limits trust.
The security pressures are narrowing Taiwan’s options
Taiwan’s caution towards China-linked networks stems from repeated attempts to penetrate its political institutions. Chinese-born political activist Hsu Chun-ying was indicted for allegedly acting on the instructions of Chinese officials to interfere in elections, with prosecutors accusing her of mobilising immigrant voters and monitoring their political activities on behalf of Beijing. This strategy of co-optation extends to the legislative level, as demonstrated by the controversy surrounding Li Chen-hsiu, Taiwan’s first naturalised lawmaker born in China. Before her eventual removal from office over her failure to formally renounce her Chinese nationality, investigations alleged that her political ascent was closely monitored by mainland officials aiming to embed pro-Beijing influence directly within the Legislative Yuan. The two cases generated political turbulence and reinforced doubts over whether existing safeguards can distinguish legitimate participation from foreign-directed influence.
The assault on pro-Taiwan political commentator Akio Yaita introduced a more immediate form of threat. Yaita was attacked after delivering a speech in Taichung, and the suspect was arrested while attempting to leave Taiwan. Later reports alleged possible overseas instructions and connections to a Hong Kong criminal organisation. Direct involvement by the Chinese government has not been publicly established. Even so, the apparent planning behind the incident raised concern that intermediaries or criminal networks could be used to intimidate Beijing’s critics while obscuring those ultimately responsible. The case therefore carried the signs of possible transnational repression, extending Taiwan’s security concerns beyond espionage and electoral interference to the physical safety of dissidents.
Together, these cases explain why Taiwan has tightened immigration screening and expanded its monitoring of cross-Strait organisations and Chinese communities. Given Beijing’s ability to operate through elections, public office, community networks and private intermediaries, stronger counterespionage measures are necessary. Yet Taiwan’s current approach remains better equipped to detect possible infiltration than to distinguish committed operatives from ordinary immigrants, coerced individuals and dissidents seeking distance from the Chinese state—and to protect those who are vulnerable. Without clearer legal protections and more carefully calibrated institutions, measures designed to counter Beijing may ultimately constrain Taipei’s broader intelligence ambitions.
Caught between coercion and suspicion
The weakness of Taiwan’s current approach becomes most visible when Chinese citizens seek to leave Beijing’s influence rather than advance it. Taiwan still lacks a comprehensive refugee or political asylum law capable of securely vetting, integrating and protecting Chinese informants, dissidents and others facing political persecution. Applicants instead rely on discretionary administrative arrangements that offer no consistent guarantee of residency, employment rights, or long-term identity protection. This uncertainty makes it difficult for Taiwan to offer credible assurances to individuals considering cooperation with its intelligence agencies.
Existing immigration procedures can also expose those seeking protection to renewed danger. Chinese nationals seeking to complete naturalisation must provide evidence that their household registration in China has been cancelled. Although limited exemptions are now available in some high-risk cases, the broader process has historically required applicants to engage with Chinese authorities or return to China. The case of Taiwan-based publisher Li Yanhe, also known as Fucha, demonstrated the consequences. Despite publishing works critical of the Chinese Communist Party and contributing to Taiwan’s democratic debate, he was detained after travelling to China to address his registration status and later prosecuted for secession. His imprisonment sends a damaging signal to potential sources: Taiwan may welcome their assistance without possessing the legal mechanisms needed to keep them safe.
The risks extend beyond formal prosecution. Many Chinese immigrants retain close relatives, property or financial interests in China, giving Beijing continuing leverage over their lives. Threats against family members can enforce political silence or compel reluctant cooperation. As a result, pro-democracy and politically neutral immigrants may avoid public activity, contact with Taiwanese authorities or criticism of Beijing to protect those left behind.
This silence can reinforce the very suspicion Taiwan seeks to address. This silence allows a vocal, well-resourced minority backed by the CCP’s United Front Work Department to occupy greater public space, strengthening the perception that Chinese communities are dominated by hostile influence. Wider monitoring and distrust, in turn, make vulnerable immigrants less willing to report coercion or recruitment attempts. Taiwan is left in a damaging cycle where Beijing’s pressure creates silence, silence breeds suspicion, and suspicion further limits cooperation. Without clearer asylum protections, secure reporting channels and long-term safeguards, Taiwan cannot reliably separate hostile operatives from people trapped within Beijing’s reach—or gain the intelligence their experiences could provide.
Beijing’s repression creates an opening for Taiwan
Yet Beijing’s expanding control also creates an opportunity for Taiwan. Tighter political restrictions do not automatically produce organised opposition, but they can increase the number of people seeking distance from Chinese state institutions, access to uncensored information and safer connections with democratic societies. Taiwan’s value lies not only in offering refuge but also in demonstrating that a Chinese-speaking society can protect political expression without requiring loyalty to the Communist Party.
Chinese informants, defectors and other insiders could provide Taiwan with knowledge that public information alone cannot yield. Their value is not limited to classified documents. People with direct experience of Chinese institutions may explain how local officials implement central directives, how intelligence officers approach potential recruits, how United Front organisations coordinate overseas activities and how pressure is applied through employers, relatives and community networks. Such information could help Taiwan identify patterns of interference earlier, distinguish formal state operations from informal political activity and provide its international partners with a clearer understanding of Beijing’s methods. Building trusted relationships with these individuals would therefore strengthen both intelligence collection and Taiwan’s ability to protect its democratic institutions.
Turning this potential into a functioning system, however, would be difficult. Taiwan confronted a similar tension during the 2019 Hong Kong protests, when the government promised humanitarian assistance but resisted calls for a dedicated refugee law. Officials argued that existing regulations could address individual cases more quickly, while critics warned that case-by-case arrangements lacked transparent standards and reliable guarantees. The debate also reflected genuine security concerns about whether hostile actors could exploit humanitarian channels. Taiwan’s experience with Hong Kong therefore demonstrated that democratic solidarity alone is insufficient. Protection requires institutions capable of screening applicants, managing security risks and supporting those who are accepted.
Taiwan has made limited progress. Measures introduced in 2025 allow some individuals facing personal safety or political risks to submit alternative documents when they cannot safely return to China to obtain proof that their household registration has been cancelled. This reduces an immediate danger, but the process remains administrative and dependent on individual assessment rather than a comprehensive statutory right to protection.
A more credible intelligence strategy requires a formal asylum framework that combines rigorous security screening with clear protections for residency, employment, and identity. It should also provide secure reporting channels and long-term safeguards for individuals whose cooperation places their relatives at risk. These measures would not eliminate infiltration, and no vetting system can entirely remove uncertainty. But relying on discretionary waivers continues to transfer most of the danger to those Taiwan hopes to engage.
Taipei must also align its domestic security narrative with its external intelligence ambitions. Counterespionage remains necessary, but Chinese immigrants should not be treated as a single political category. Taiwan must distinguish operatives acting for the Chinese state from people subject to its coercion or willing to resist it. By combining careful screening with credible protection, Taiwan can turn Beijing’s tightening control into an opportunity to build trusted sources, strengthen democratic resilience and contribute valuable intelligence to its international partners.
Cho-Han Hsiung is a Non-Resident Fellow at Dialogue China. He graduated from the University of Sydney and Georgetown University. His research focuses on Asian security, geopolitics and technology policy.