This is fun: we have an argument! I made some assertions and predictions in a post on the upcoming LY election, and Nathan Batto of the Frozen Garlic blog has taken me to task a bit.
 
So what's my response? Well, let me begin by agreeing with Nathan: I AM completely wrong about one big thing. I made an elementary error when I calculated the effects of a swing toward Tsai and away from the pan-blue camp: I forgot to divide by two. As a consequence, my forecast violated what I will now forever remember as the First Law of Swing: if one party goes up, some other party must come down (click that link, BTW, it's good stuff.) In hindsight, a really silly mistake. This pretty much sums up my position: ​

Nevertheless, simple mistake, simple fix. Divide by two, dummy. Below is the same ranking of LY seats, with an extra column added that gives the size of the swing needed to flip the district to the other camp (swing toward Tsai from 2012 is positive, swing away is negative).

(Updated data file is below. I've corrected a few errors in the previous file; they're listed in the documentation sheet. Most changes were small enough to be inconsequential, but Nathan pointed out a significant one: Tsai's Hualien vote in 2012 was 25.9, not 29.9. Thanks for catching that.)

Forecast, Take Two
With that mea culpa out of the way, I still think the basic approach here is sound, assuming one does the math right: go down the swing column, take a guess what you think Tsai will get above her 2012 vote share, and that’ll tell you roughly which districts she’ll carry. (Note that by "carry," I mean she'll win a majority over the combined Chu-Soong vote, not just a plurality over Chu.) And if Tsai carries a district, it’s going to be tough for the KMT candidate to hold it.

So, again assuming Taitung reverts to its natural blueness:

• the magic seat number for a DPP is still #41,
• that's still New Taipei 10.

For Tsai to carry that district, she'd need an increase in her vote share of 5.23% above 2012, or 45.63+5.23 = 50.86% of the total presidential vote.
 
Nathan argues that we should give KMT incumbents at least an extra two points cushion on average (see discussion below). So let's be conservative, do that for all KMT candidates (most of the seats the DPP would have to win are being defended by incumbents anyway), and round up. That means if Tsai wins at least 53% of the presidential vote, then the DPP is likely to have a majority in the LY. She’s currently polling well above 53%, so the DPP is a strong favorite to win a single-party majority. 

Thus, I'm actually coming down very close to Nathan's forecast that a Tsai share of the vote somewhere between 53-54% is sufficient to get the DPP to a majority.

I also agree that once Tsai gets much higher than that, the legislative election has the potential to turn into a slaughter. A uniform (big assumption!) 12 point swing toward Tsai (45.63-->57.63%) means she would carry every district all the way down to Hsinchu City, ranked #56 on the list. That would leave the KMT with at most about 17 district seats, which starts to look like the DPP's situation after 2008. (Unlike the DPP, the KMT is cushioned a bit by an advantage in the aborigine seats. But only a bit.)

So, basically, we're in agreement. But that's boring, so let's see if I can find something else to argue with Nathan about.

 Assumptions about 2016: Room for an Argument?
​As Nathan noted, debates are good because they force us to clarify our assumptions and claims and double-check our data. So in that spirit, let me list the key assumptions this forecast rests on (later I'll explore what happens when we relax a couple of these, so don't bug out yet!). They are:

• A1. DPP LY candidates will run close to Tsai in 2016; that is, every DPP candidate's vote share will be approximately the same as Tsai's LY district vote share.
• A2. The percent change in Tsai's vote from 2012 will be uniform across all LY districts.
• A3. The electorate in the presidential election in each district is the same as in the legislative election.* 
• A4. The DPP will win 16 non-SMD seats: 16 PR seats and no aborigine seats.

I'll tackle A1 now, and address the rest in separate posts. (Otherwise this post will be book-length by the time I'm done. And the election might already be over!)

A1: Will DPP LY candidates run close to Tsai in 2016?
This assumption can be challenged on at least two fronts: (1) incumbency advantage, and (2) the behavior of disaffected pan-blue voters. Nathan devoted a lot of space to (1), so I'll start with a consideration of that. Here's what I find when I run the numbers again: 

• "Incumbency advantage" in Taiwan does exist. Incumbents do better all else equal. Whether that's because they have the resources of office to draw on in elections, or they're better types, we can't say from just these data. It's probably a bit of both. But if you're trying to hold on to a seat, it's better to have the incumbent in the race than the challenger. So I agree with Nathan here.
• Once we look only at DPP-KMT head-to-head races: KMT incumbents ran ahead of Ma Ying-jeou on average in 2012 by about 1.4 points. And DPP incumbents actually ran further ahead of Tsai (+3.5 vs +1.4; Nathan's numbers are +4.5 to +2.2). So incumbents in both parties did systematically better than non-incumbents. I agree with Nathan here, too.
• But the big picture remains the same: relative to the potential swing we're talking about, any advantage the KMT will get from having incumbents running will be small. If Tsai is winning even 55% of the vote, a lot of KMT incumbents are toast even if their DPP opponents are running a couple points behind her. (I think Nathan agrees with this too.)

Now, the data. I initially claimed based on the full set of 73 districts that there wasn't evidence of a KMT "incumbent advantage" in 2012. That is, that KMT LY candidates didn't run significantly ahead of Ma Ying-jeou. Nathan argued quite sensibly that we should look only at those races where the KMT and DPP candidates together got almost all the vote. The question then is, what is "almost all"? Nathan went with 95% of the total vote. I initially went with no single 3rd party candidate winning >5% of the vote, which accounts for some of the discrepancy between us.

I've replicated his analysis with my data, and come up with similar numbers to his, although I find a weaker KMT incumbency advantage than he does (1.4 vs. 2.2 points ahead). The remaining discrepancy appears to be in our coding of incumbents in the head-to-head cases: I have 32 in the KMT, and 12 in the DPP, to 30 and 10 for Nathan. (I pulled my coding from the CEC website, which records party list legislators running in districts as incumbents, and I may have missed a couple of these. So I'd trust Nathan's incumbency coding over mine.) The signs remain the same, though, and so does the conclusion: incumbency provides an electoral benefit​, albeit a small one.

Instead of a crappy image of a simple table (dammit, Weebly), I find it more helpful to see a visual representation of what we're talking about. Below I've plotted the 2012 LY vote data against the presidential vote, distinguishing between incumbents (solid) and non-incumbents (hollow). The red line is just the function y=x; that is, dots above this line represent candidates who ran ahead of the presidential ticket, and dots below represent those who ran behind.

Here's the DPP:

This is a really good fit. The correlation between Tsai and the LY candidates vote share is about 0.826, and there's only one obvious outlier. (That's Kaohsiung 9, where Chen Chih-chung split the DPP vote.) Note also that even just at a glance, DPP incumbents appear to be doing significantly better than challengers: if we ignore Kaohsiung 9, all but about three are at or above the line, which means they got as many votes as Tsai did.*

Now let's look at the KMT:

The fit is...less good. (r=.377). There are a lot more outliers, especially in deep blue areas where Ma got a lot of the vote. If we want to evaluate whether there's an incumbent advantage on the KMT side as well, we need to account for this. Hence the decision to drop the 25 cases where there was a significant 3rd-party vote. 

Here's what the picture looks like with just the 48 districts where KMT+DPP LY vote > 95%: 

Ah, much better. Now the KMT looks a lot more like the DPP picture, and the correlation is about the same (r=.835 vs 0.860 for the DPP). I count 9 incumbents who clearly ran behind Ma, but at least 21 who ran ahead. Three of those even ran way ahead in tough districts where Ma got less than 42% of the vote. This is a demonstration that there's a KMT incumbency advantage, right? And isn't it therefore at least plausible that some KMT incumbents could survive a Tsai wave because of this, even if their districts turn green?

Well, yes, if you define this advantage as running significantly ahead of the KMT presidential standard-bearer, Ma. But this is not actually what matters for winning reelection. What the forecast above relies on is the Tsai vote in each district, which is the complement of not just the Ma vote but of Ma+Soong. In other words, I assumed that everyone voting for Soong would also vote for the KMT LY candidate in the district (in the head-to-head contests, I don't this this is crazy). If we add in Soong's 2.77%, then here's roughly what the picture looks like (Soong's 2012 vote varied a lot across districts, too, so this is a simplification):     

A bit less impressive: there are only six incumbents (of 32) who ran significantly ahead of the combined pan-blue presidential vote, and therefore would have won in districts where Tsai also won. There's just not a lot here from 2012 to indicate that the 40 KMT incumbents running in 2016, taken as a whole, have good odds of surviving if Tsai wins their districts, no matter how great their constituency service is. If it's like 2012, then we can expect about 20%, or eight, to run significantly ahead of the pan-blue presidential vote.

This is the main point that I tried--clumsily--to communicate in my previous post. Going into this analysis, I had a vague expectation that the KMT majority included quite a few districts that Tsai won in 2012 (that is, where LY vote of KMT > Ma + Soong), suggesting at least a plausible path to survival in this environment. (This stemmed from my own ignorance about 2012, not anything Nathan has written.) That's simply not the case, and unless 2016 is significantly different than 2012, this bodes very poorly for the survival of KMT legislators in districts on the 25-45 range on that list above.

Is 2016 going to be like 2012?
That leads me to the second issue: is 2016 going to be like 2012? Nathan argues that it won't be: the last election was a nearly perfect blue-green head-to-head fight, whereas 2016 will have a lot of disaffected pan-blue voters searching around for alternatives. And some of them will back Tsai, then turn around and vote for pan-blue LY candidates.  

Before I make my case for why I don't think this will be a large share of voters, a clarification: my goal here is to establish a baseline expectation for what district vote share DPP candidates will win with a given Tsai presidential vote share. So I'm focusing exclusively on the DPP side of the races. The mess of coordination failures on the pan-blue side is probably going to make this a conservative estimate, but again, I think it's useful to establish a generic partisan baseline first, before we start adjusting up or down, and it's much simpler to do that by starting with the DPP. 

Now, to the question about 2016. I expect Tsai's vote share and DPP LY vote shares will again be highly correlated in 2016. We know there are going to be a lot more Tsai supporters in 2016: some will be former or disaffected pan-blue voters, some will be independents, and some will be newly minted voters. Let's rank-order how likely green-blue split-ticket voting should be given the origin of these groups of Tsai voters:

1. Disaffected pan-blue voters.
2. Independents.
3. New voters (i.e. young people aged<24).

​Disaffected pan-blue voters are the most likely to cross over and vote for Tsai, then support their local pan-blue candidate in the LY race. (I'm going to leave aside the other two for the moment--I don't think either of these groups will do much ticket-splitting in the aggregate.) There are potentially a lot of blue-leaning Tsai voters. If most split their votes then DPP candidates are, indeed, going to run significantly behind Tsai in most districts, and she'll need a larger margin of victory to guarantee a DPP LY majority. But let me suggest three reasons why split-ticket voting may not be all that frequent even among this disaffected pan-blue population in the coming election. 

First is the shifting partisan identification of the electorate. Nathan wrote a very nice piece for the China Policy Institute blog about the shift in the number of pan-green vs pan-blue partisans over the last couple of years. (If you haven't read it yet, go do it--it's well worth your time.) The takeaway from that piece is that there are a lot fewer pan-blue identifiers now, and a lot more pan-green, than in 2012. How much? Well, instead of a 50-45 advantage in favor of the pan-blue, it's looking more and more from public opinion research like the ratio has flipped toward a green plurality. If we think about 2016 in this light, Tsai's increase in the polls is not entirely a protest vote against Ma and the KMT, but also reflects an increase in identification with the pan-green side of the political spectrum. It's difficult to estimate the size of that increase, but to the extent it's real it should help not just Tsai but DPP LY candidates, too.

Second is turnout. In the current environment, there are a lot of disgruntled pan-blue voters. They're presented with two presidential candidates, Chu and Soong, who aren't eliciting a lot of enthusiasm at this point. In addition, there's the little matter of how Chu ended up heading the KMT ticket: he arranged to have the previous nominee Hung Hsiu-chu dumped, and that angered her supporters within the party. It's not hard to imagine a significant chunk of the pan-blue side simply sitting this election out rather than casting a protest vote for Soong or Tsai. (There's also the matter of travel back from the PRC mainland to vote--it's costly for Taiwanese based there to do this, and the lack of a competitive race for president probably means many more of them will stay away.) If they do that, then those votes won't be there in the LY races either. 

Third is that the presidential and LY elections will be concurrent in 2016.  2012 was the first time that voters could cast a ballot for president and the legislature at the same time. Prior to that year, these elections were always held on different days, and often different years, which led to a significantly different electorate across these two types of races. In particular, presidential elections tended to have the highest turnout, with LY turnout 15-20% lower. I suspect, although I don't have the evidence at hand, that the KMT benefited the most from this lower turnout, because its resource advantages allowed it to push core supporters to the polls better than other parties. It's the kind of "hidden benefit" that can increase the size of the incumbency advantage and help sustain an LY majority for a long time even as the underlying nature of the electorate changes. But if the elections are held at the same time, this gap goes away. Just about everyone who shows up to vote in one election also votes in the other (unless they're deliberately boycotting something--see, e.g., the 2004 referendums). It's effectively the same electorate in both races.*

So while 2012 was a nearly perfect blue-green head-to-head contest, it's worth considering also the possibility that the close correlation between the presidential and LY elections that year was not exceptional, but more like a new norm. Like 2012, just about everyone who votes for president in 2016 will also vote for the LY. That means the fluctuation in turnout that we're used to seeing between presidential and LY elections will probably not be as stark going forward, and the likelihood that the presidency and LY will be controlled by different camps, as was true during the Chen Shui-bian era, will be lower from now on. (Note: I haven't looked much at the evidence here, and I'd be very interested to hear Nathan's and others' reactions to this speculation.)

For all these reasons, then, I think assuming a close correlation between Tsai's district vote share and the DPP candidate's in 2016 is a good way to start estimating how the legislative election will play out.

In future posts, I'll say something about the assumptions of a uniform swing, the complicating factor of separate yuanzhumin districts, and the PR seats. 

* I'm ignoring the fact that yuanzhumin (aborigine) voters don't vote in the same LY districts. In most cases this impact is minor, but in a couple districts they are 30% or more of the electorate. Since yuanzhumin voters have been to this point overwhelmingly pan-blue, this introduces a pan-blue bias into the forecast: I'm assuming those votes will be there in the LY races, which makes districts like Taitung or Hualien look a lot more blue than they really are. More on this in another post.

Hung Hsiu-chu (洪秀柱) is now the official KMT nominee for president in 2016. She has a reputation as a deep-Blue partisan without a demonstrated ability to appeal to moderates. If that's true, it bodes poorly for the ruling party's chances. 

But is it true? This anonymous article at Thinking Taiwan* attempts to make that case by examining her district vote totals in elections to the Legislative Yuan, which is the most concrete data we have about her electoral appeal. (Hung was elected as a KMT member from Taipei County in 1989, 1992, 1995, 2001, and 2004, and on the KMT party list in 1998, 2008 and 2012; the actual numbers are available here, from the Election Study Center at National Cheng Chi University.) Good for the writer for actually trying to supply some hard evidence for this claim, but in truth these results tell us very little about Hung's mass appeal.

The reason is that pre-2008 LY vote returns are from multi-member districts, and all the major parties used vote equalization (配票) systems in these elections. Vote totals for Hung or any other LY candidate nominated by a party can't be taken at face value as an indication of popularity. To imply otherwise is poor analysis.

A Quick Primer on Elections under Single Non-Transferable Vote
To see why, let's take a step back and remember how parties campaigned in these districts. Until 2008, elections to the legislature were held using the Single Non-Transferable Vote (SNTV) system. SNTV is defined by:

• Multi-member districts, i.e. more than one representative will be elected from a single district;
• Voters can cast only a single ballot for only one candidate (not a party, and not multiple candidates);
• The top M vote-getters all win a seat, where M is the number of seats in a district. 

SNTV has a lot of features that make it unloved among electoral systems geeks, which is one of the reasons it was replaced for the legislature in Taiwan. (Nevertheless, it's still used for every other lower-level council election.) The most important is that it presents two serious coordination problems for the largest political parties, which increase in difficulty with the number of seats elected from a single district:

1. A nomination problem. Parties have to estimate prior to the election how much support they have in the district to know how many candidates to nominate. Nominate too few, and your nominees all win but with many votes to spare, and all the extras could have won you another seat. Nominate too many, and your votes will be spread too thinly, leading in the worst-case scenario to a shutout when you could have won several seats. This gets harder the less information parties have about their level of support. 
2. A vote distribution problem. To maximize the expected number of seats they'll win, parties have to get their supporters to distribute their votes as evenly as possible across multiple nominees. This can be a real challenge if one or two candidates are much more popular and well-known. If voters cast their ballots sincerely, then popular nominees will win with thousands of votes to spare, while lesser-known candidates from the same party will be overshadowed and lose.  

For instance, in 2004, the DPP nominated five candidates for the legislature in Tainan County, a district with eight seats. The party then told its supporters to cast a ballot based on the last number of the voter's national ID card (see above). All five DPP candidates won; here were their vote shares:

• (1-2) Lee Jun-yi 李俊毅: 9.28%
• (3-4) Huang Wei-je 黃偉哲: 8.56%
• (5-6) Yeh I-chin 葉宜津: 6.64%
• (7-8) Cheng Kuo-chung 鄭國忠: 10.01%
• (9-0) Hou Shui-cheng 侯水盛: 10.09%

Except for Yeh, that's what a randomization strategy will get you, if properly followed by your supporters: roughly even shares of the vote for all nominees, and they all get in. (Yeh won her seat despite not finishing in the top 8, because of the female quota rule; she bumped the 8th place candidate, the KMT's Kuo Tian-tsai (郭添財).) 

The randomization scheme is not a DPP innovation, by the way; the New Party also used this system in Taipei back when it was competitive. In general, the more ideological a party’s voters, the more appealing a randomization scheme is. 

In contrast, the KMT traditionally employed “responsibility zones” (責任區) within the larger districts: each official nominee was assigned some areas (usually groups of wards or villages) that were their exclusive zones to campaign in, and they were not supposed to appeal to voters in other areas.** The KMT also would hold back some of their so-called “iron vote” (鐵票) precincts—typically villages filled with military personnel, civil servants, and their families who could be expected to loyally support the party en masse. In the days leading up to the election, if a couple of the party’s candidates appeared to be doing worse than expected, the party strategists would at the last moment direct some of the iron vote to them to bolster their chances of winning. The responsibility zone system was used widely by the KMT in the 1980s and 90s because it worked well and gave them a systematic advantage: the party could exploit the advantages of its connections to local factions, its superior knowledge of local support levels, and its almost complete control of local ward chiefs and vote-brokers. 

You Can't Infer Candidate Appeal Solely from Election Returns under SNTV
So what do election results under this system tell us about Hung Hsiu-chu’s appeal as a candidate? Very little. Because the KMT imposed a vote distribution system in the LY elections, individual candidate vote totals are not a reliable indication of how popular the candidates are.

For instance, here’s her vote returns from the legislative election in Taipei County in 1992, by administrative area:

• Banqiao City: 2.33%
• Sanchong City: 0.89%
• Zhonghe City: 4.2%
• Yonghe City: 14.39%
• Xinzhuang City: 1%
• Xindian City: 4.52%
• Shulin City: 1.01%
• Yingge Township: 0.99%
• Sanxia Township: 1.55%
• Danshui Township: 2.08%
• Xizhi City: 1.06%
• Ruifang Township: 1.02%
• Tucheng City: 2.78%
• Luzhou City: 0.98%
• Wugu Township: 0.74%
• Taishan Township: 1.21%
• Linkou Township: 1.14%
• Shenkeng Township: 2.42%
• Shiding Township: 1.31%
• Pinglin Township: 3.95%
• Sanzhi Township: 1.37%
• Shimen Township: 0.91%
• Bali Township: 0.94%
• Pingxi Township: 1.59%
• Shuangxi Township: 0.56%
• Gongliao Township: 1.76%
• Jinshan Township: 0.68%
• Wanli Township: 2.43%
• Wulai Township: 5.82%

Now, a couple of things about 1992: it was the first election for the full legislature, and Taipei County was a single electoral district with 16 seats--huge, by SNTV standards. This was close to a worst-case scenario for political parties trying to equalize votes: there hadn't been a previous full LY election to provide info about each party's expected support, and the district magnitude (i.e. # of seats) is really high. An effective vote distribution system is critically important for party success, and also really hard to implement here. 

These results show Hung was much stronger in some areas than others (Yonghe, Zhonghe, Xindian, Wulai, and Pinglin stand out), but they don’t show where her responsibility zones were or if she needed help from the “iron vote.”  If I had to guess, I'd say she was assigned to Yonghe and parts of the four other cities she was strongest in: they're all clustered together just south of Taipei. But we can't tell that from the returns; and they also tell us nothing about whether she over- or under-performed relative to expectations.

The one thing we can say from these figures is how the KMT itself did. The last winner in this district was Chou Po-lun (周伯倫) of the DPP, who got 2.65% of the vote. Hung got 3.04%. Of the 17 KMT candidates, not all of whom were nominated, 10 were elected, with vote shares ranging from 2.66% to 5.89%, and the KMT won 62.5% of the seats with 45.7% of the vote. From the KMT’s perspective, that was a terrific result, and Hung’s share of the vote was just about perfect: safely above the cutoff point, but not too much above that a lot of votes were wasted. That tells us that Hung, and most of the other elected KMT candidates, probably played by the party’s rules. What it does not tell us is that Hung had no mass appeal, because demonstrating that wasn't her objective in this (or any of the other) LY elections. 

If critics want to cast Hung as a deep-Blue ideologue with no ability to win votes from moderates, fine. She hasn't shown that ability, it's true. But she also has never been asked to. Her past election results tell us very little about how she'll do as the KMT candidate for president. 

* From Solidarity.tw, apparently.
**A fun aside: this is one of the best-studied topics in Taiwanese politics research. Among the prominent work on this is from the current chair of the Central Electoral Commission, Liu I-chou, who wrote his dissertation on the KMT’s responsibility zone system. Also, a big chunk of Shelley Rigger’s Politics in Taiwan, one of the best-known English-language books on Taiwanese elections, extensively covers party strategy in SNTV elections. 

On December 2, the Taiwan Democracy Project will hold a special roundtable session to discuss the results of Taiwan's local elections on November 29. The event is free and open to the public, and lunch will be provided. You are encouraged to RSVP at the official event page.

Panel speakers will include Dennis Weng, visiting assistant professor of political science at Wesleyan University; Thomas Fingar, a Distinguished Fellow at the Asia-Pacific Research Center in the Freeman Spogli Institute at Stanford University; Winnie Lin, a Stanford undergraduate; and me.  Some context on the elections follows.

On November 29, Taiwan will hold comprehensive local elections which will decide a huge number of offices, from the Taipei mayor all the way down to village and ward chiefs. These elections are also being called the "9-in-1" (九合一) elections, because they combine elections to nine separate offices. By the time Taiwan's transition to democracy finished in 1996, elections to directly administered municipalities, counties and cities, townships, village chiefs, and ward chiefs were all held at separate times. Along with separate national elections for the National Assembly (beginning in 1991), the Legislative Yuan (1992), and the presidency (1996), that meant Taiwanese voters were going to the polls about once a year. That's a lot. 

In recent years, on the other hand, the trend has been toward consolidation. A set of amendments in 2005 changed the legislative term length from three to four years to coincide with the presidential term, and starting in 2012 both elections were held on the same day, creating a single national election every four years. The National Assembly was abolished in the same reform. Then county and county-level city terms were temporarily extended to align with the election cycle of the special municipalities of Taipei and Kaohsiung, for the first time creating a single local election day: 

The races to be decided in the 2014 election:

• (1) Mayors and (2) city councilors in centrally-administered municipalities (直轄市市長，市議員) for Taipei, Kaohsiung, New Taipei City, Taichung, and Taoyuan);
• (3) Executives and (4) councilors in counties and county-level municipalities (縣／省轄市長，縣／市議員);
• (5) Township and town heads and (6) councilors (鄉／鎮長，鄉／鎮議員); 
• (7) Village and ward heads (村／里長).

In addition, about 25 township-level jurisdictions with significant "mountain aborigine" populations hold special status as "self-governing" areas (自治區). In a nod to the special status of aborigines in Taiwan, local government laws require that the township heads in these areas be aborigine. This became a point of some contestation after several counties (Taipei County, Taichung City and County, and Kaohsiung City and County) were merged and raised to centrally-administered municipality status in 2009. As part of this reform, townships and towns in these areas became districts (區), which have appointed, not elected, leaders. As a consequence, several self-governing townships lost the right to elect their leaders--Wulai Township, a popular tourist destination a short trip south of Taipei, was one. 

In December 2013 the Legislative Yuan passed an amendment to restore the right to elect the leaders and councilors of these former townships. As a consequence, two more elections were added:     

• (8) Self-governing district heads and (9) representatives (自治區長，區代表).   

So that's how they got to "9-in-1".

My new column at Ketagalan Media is on electoral reform in Taiwan, and what form it should take:

Read the whole thing here.

As an alternative to the way cross-Strait policy has been dealt with (or rather, not dealt with) in Taiwan over the last year, I've been thinking a lot about how similar foreign policy or trade controversies have historically been resolved in other democracies.  One example I like a lot comes from the former West Germany. 

Ostpolitik: Procedural Legitimacy, German Style
In 1969, West Germany had been a democracy for less than 20 years*.  In a situation with some striking parallels** to Taiwan's current one, the newly-elected Social Democratic chancellor Willy Brandt pushed for a policy of engagement rather than confrontation with the communist East Germany and its Soviet patron. Under this so-called Ostpolitik, or "eastern policy,"  Brandt signed a series of treaties renouncing the use of force, recognizing post-war European borders, establishing diplomatic recognition of Warsaw Pact states in eastern Europe, and culminating in a peace treaty, the Basic Treaty, with East Germany itself in 1972. 

Ostpolitik was hugely controversial in German political life.  Brandt was the first non-conservative to hold the chancellorship in the post-war era, and his sharp change in policy was fiercely opposed by the former ruling party, the Christian Democratic Union (CDU). After the Basic Treaty was signed in early 1972, several MPs from Brandt's coalition partner the FDP defected to the opposition, and it looked like Ostpolitik might be stalled or reversed. 

But in a crucial showdown in April 1972, the CDU fell two votes short*** of winning a no-confidence vote to replace Brandt's government with a conservative coalition. Seven months later, Brandt's coalition was re-elected in federal elections, and the treaty was then approved by the German parliament.  By winning both a no-confidence vote and an election after the Basic Treaty was signed, Brandt endowed his policies toward Eastern Europe with a great deal of democratic legitimacy despite the controversy.  Most impressively, when the CDU eventually returned to power in 1982, it retained Ostpolitik, which by that point was supported by all the major political parties.  

Why a German-Style Solution Isn't Available in Today's Taiwan
It’s instructive to consider all the ways Taiwan’s current institutions prevent a kind of “German solution” to the CSSTA controversy.  There are four big ones:

1.  Ostpolitik Agreements were Treaties.  The Basic Treaty signed by the Brandt government with East Germany was beset by ambiguity about the official status of the East German state: West Germany had claimed since partition to represent the entire German nation and refused to acknowledge the legitimacy of an independent East Germany (sound familiar?).  Brandt’s linguistic work-around was to assert that two states existed “in Germany,” but that they could not regard one another as foreign countries.  Nevertheless, when the Basic Treaty was signed, everyone agreed that it required parliamentary approval to take effect--like the Treaty of Moscow and Treaty of Warsaw before it.  

Unlike in the Taiwan case, the West German procedure for approving the Basic Law remained the same as for approving agreements with other foreign powers: an up-or-down vote in both houses of parliament.  In Taiwan, however, it's not clear whether the CSSTA even requires a vote in the Legislative Yuan, even though trade agreements with other countries do.

2. The Advantages of Parliamentarism (I): Executive Actions depend on Parliamentary Confidence.  As head of government in a parliamentary regime, Brandt’s actions implicitly depended on the continued support of a majority in the Bundestag, the lower house of the German parliament.  Ostpolitik, and especially the Basic Treaty, were controversial enough that Brandt nearly lost this majority.  Had the opposition CDU managed to win the no-confidence vote, Brandt would have been replaced by a new conservative coalition, and the Basic Treaty would likely have been modified or withdrawn.  

In contrast to the Taiwan case, there was an obvious institutional way to settle the conflict over Brandt’s policy: hold a vote in parliament. Brandt’s victory in that vote confirmed he still had the minimum support needed to advance the treaty.  In Taiwan, the legislature has a formal no-confidence power, but it's much weaker: it can be used only against the premier, not the president; it gives the president the right in turn to dissolve the legislature, so most LY members don't want to use it lest they have to face the voters in early elections; and it can only be used once every 12 months.  

Moreover, in a move that looks rather stupid in hindsight, the DPP brought a no-confidence measure against premier Jiang Yi-huah last October, which, given the KMT's majority, predictably failed badly.  So even if enough members of the LY were willing to risk early elections to bring down the premier and his cabinet, that option is closed off for the next six months.

3. Proportional Electoral Systems Make Coalition Governments Likely.  Since the founding of the FDR, Germany has almost always had stable coalition governments.  A key reason is the German electoral system, the so-called mixed-member compensatory system.  Under the German system, all parties which win over five percent of the party vote get a proportional share of seats in the lower house. Thus, for much of Germany’s postwar history, a small centrist party, the FDP, held the balance of power in the Bundestag.  Brandt relied on FDP support to stay in office; the vice chancellor and foreign minister under Brandt was the head of the FDP, Walter Scheel. When FDP members opposed to the Basic Treaty started defecting, the Brandt coalition was in trouble.  

In contrast, Taiwan’s 2005 electoral reform created a much more majoritarian electoral system: the KMT’s current majority in the Legislative Yuan is due in part to a highly disproportional conversion of votes into seats.  As a consequence, there is no coalition partner on which the KMT depends to get bills passed in the legislature, and no direct way for non-KMT parties to ensure they are included in the cabinet.*^

4. The Advantages of Parliamentarism (II): Early Elections.  Fourth, despite winning the no-confidence motion, Brandt was still in a precarious political position.  He had lost several members of his coalition, and it soon became clear that he no longer held a working majority in the Bundestag.  So, he called early elections: in November 1972, seven months after the no-confidence vote, German voters got to weigh in on the Brandt government and, by association, Ostpolitik.  The result of the polls left little doubt that Brandt had the support of a popular majority: both the SDP and FDP gains seats at the expense of the CDU. Brandt had for all intents received a popular mandate to continue with Ostpolitik.

Again, the contrast with Taiwan is stark.  There is no requirement that the Ma administration face the voters again before implementing the CSSTA. Nor can Ma call early elections even if he wanted to; that would require a no-confidence vote to pass the legislature, which, as I noted above, isn't even a constitutional option until October 2014.  In short, there's no easy way to have the voters weigh in directly on the current controversy or the Ma administration's performance until the 2016 general election--two years away.  The consequence is that the CSSTA controversy is likely to remain unresolved, exacerbating political gridlock in Taiwan until at least 2016.  It's hard to see that as a good outcome for Taiwan's democracy.    

* It might not be obvious at first glance, but this is roughly the same age as Taiwan's democracy today: the first elected postwar government in Germany took office in September 1949, and Taiwan has had a fully elected legislature since 1992 and a popularly elected president since 1996.  

** I should emphasize I do not mean to draw any lessons from this example about how cross-Strait rapprochement should proceed. I highlight this case only because of the admirable way in which a highly divisive foreign policy issue was resolved domestically to West Germany's long-term benefit, not because I think Taiwan-PRC relations should be handled in the same way.

*** The CDU lost the vote when two of its own members unexpectedly failed to support the party's motion.  After the unification of Germany in 1990, East German secret files revealed that both MPs were paid by the East German secret service to vote against the motion.

*^ In practice, the Cross-Party Negotiation Committee (政黨協商) in the Legislative Yuan gives minority parties the ability to slow or block legislation; it does not, however, give them any say in, or claim to, Executive Yuan cabinet positions, as a real cross-party coalition would in a pure parliamentary regime.

The attempt by the KMT leadership to remove Wang Jin-pyng as speaker of the Legislative Yuan has a lot of interesting elements to it.  For electoral studies geeks, though, the most fascinating might be that Wang was elected on the KMT’s proportional representation or "at-large" list (不分區) rather than from a single-member district (單一選區).  As a consequence, he is especially vulnerable to purge attempts: unlike district legislators, Wang depends on his party’s support to retain his seat for this term.  

A little background first: since 1995, Taiwan has had a mixed-member electoral system (混合制) with two parallel electoral tiers.  Up until 2004, the larger, district-level tier consisted of between 25-30 multi-member districts (複數區), with multiple representatives elected from each district using the single non-transferable vote (SNTV) (不可轉移單票制).  The smaller, national-level tier consisted of a single nation-wide district in which seats were awarded to parties using closed-list proportional representation (CL-PR), based on the percentage of the vote that each party's district candidates won aggregated across all districts.  A major reform* before the 2008 election halved the size of the legislature, replaced the multi-member districts with single-member ones, and introduced a separate vote for the PR tier, but retained the closed-list rule for the PR seats.  

Winning the List

The "closed" part of "closed list" PR means that the party, not voters, controls who gets these seats.  It does so by submitting a ranked list of names (分配當選名單) prior to the election; when the seat totals for each party are announced, the PR seats are distributed down the list until the party's quota is met.  For instance, in the 2012 legislative election, the KMT won 16 seats in the PR tier, so the top 16 candidates on its party list were awarded seats.  This is how Wang Jin-pyng was most recently elected: he was ranked first on the list.  (You can find the lists for this and other elections at the Central Election Commission website.  The image at right was pulled from here.)   

It is not hard to see that the order of names on the party list goes a long way toward determining who gets seats.  The first candidate on the list is as good-as-elected once the list is submitted, unless the party fails to win any PR seats.  But the 16th candidate will have to sweat out the election.  And the 34th candidate has no realistic hope of winning a seat whatsoever.  Thus, whoever controls the party list controls the electoral fates of all the PR legislators.  Typically, party leaders determine the ranking and put themselves and their allies** at the top of the list, while incumbents who've ticked off the party leadership get left off entirely.  So legislators elected from the PR tier have to toe the party line if they want to remain in office.  

But that's not all. Taiwan electoral law also provides political parties another weapon to keep list legislators in line: the Civil Servants Election and Recall Act (公職人員選舉罷免法) specifies that any at-large legislator who loses his party membership will also immediately lose his seat.  Hence why Wang Jin-pyng was so vulnerable to a purge by President Ma: as an at-large legislator, his seat depends on the continued tacit support of the rest of the party.  Rather than wait until the run-up to the next election to deny Wang his previous position on the party list, Ma and his allies could remove him immediately by stripping him of his party membership.  It is only through a rather surprising, and lucky, district court injunction that Wang has so far survived the attempt to boot him from the legislature.

Whither Wang?

It's noteworthy that Wang Jin-pyng has not always been an at-large legislator for the KMT.  Until 2004, he was one of several legislators representing Kaohsiung County's First District, and a quite popular one at that.  If he were still a district legislator, stripping him of his party membership would not have had the same effect; he would have retained his seat.  That raises the question, why would a leading politician like Wang ever join the party list?

The answer is that it’s a sure-fire way to get into the legislature without having to win a district-level election.  Campaigns for legislative district seats were notoriously fierce, and costly, under the old SNTV system, because candidates had to compete for votes not only against nominees from other parties but also with their own fellow party members.  Winning a seat usually required relentless effort to differentiate oneself from everyone else and cultivate personal ties to constituents.  (And, all-too-frequently, some form of vote-buying.)  So when Wang first ran on the party list in 2004, when SNTV was still in place, it was undoubtedly appealing to him to leave behind the trouble of district campaigning.  The switch to single-member districts in 2008 eliminated most intra-party competition, but at that point Wang was already ensconced at the top of the KMT list and had no reason to return to a district.  

Now, of course, he does.  My money is on him returning to his old Kaohsiung County district and running there in 2016, where he retains a base and can probably win comfortably.  Whether or not he hangs on to his seat through the end of this term, I doubt we have seen the last of Speaker Wang.

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[* Taiwan's history of electoral system changes is dauntingly complex, even post-martial law era. I will attempt to cover it in a future post.]  

[**I'd forgotten, it's an electoral law rule, not an intra-party rule.  So all parties are required to reserve at least half their PR list seats for women.]