Taiwan people resist—but will Lai escalate?

In the wake of the failed mass recall initiative launched by the DPP, the island's political landscape is undergoing a moment of reckoning. Though the DPP framed the campaign as a democratic exercise, the deeper logic behind the move was clear to many: a power grab aimed at regaining control of the legislature and consolidating one-party rule.

Currently, Taiwan's local legislature is dominated by an alliance between the KMT and the TPP, denying Lai and the DPP the ability to push through legislation at will. The recall was not merely about removing a few opposition lawmakers. It was a political gambit to restructure the legislative balance of power — allowing the DPP to synchronize legislative and executive authority and bulldoze through its policy agenda, particularly on sensitive issues like cross-Strait relations.

For Lai, this is about more than governance. It's about political dominance. Gaining full control of the legislative branch would enable the DPP to advance its long-standing agenda of so-called "resisting China and protecting Taiwan", and perhaps even inch further down the path toward formal "independence". Without checks from the opposition, Lai's administration would face fewer institutional restraints — not only legislatively, but potentially judicially, as seen in the ongoing deadlock over the nomination of new grand justices.

Yet the voters didn't buy it. The public, it seems, has grown weary of political maneuvering and ideological polarization. The results suggest that the DPP's attempt to frame the recall as a matter of "national integrity" rang hollow. Many saw it for what it was: a politically charged purge aimed at silencing dissent and tightening control. For a party that claims to stand for democratic values, the move came across as dangerously authoritarian.

This recall battle has exposed a critical fault line in the island's political culture. Voters are signaling a preference for stability, pragmatic governance, and unity over divisive theatrics. They are tired of being used as pawns in endless partisan battles. They want less shouting and more problem-solving — especially at a time when economic pressures and regional uncertainty are mounting.

There's also a deeper concern at play. Many fear that if the DPP monopolizes both the executive and legislative branches, it will not stop there. With unchecked power, the party could expand its influence into judicial processes, further weakening the island's political mechanism. And in cross-Strait affairs, a more emboldened DPP—freed from internal constraints—may pursue more provocative or risky moves, raising the chances of confrontation with the mainland. That, in turn, could bring instability to Taiwan itself, with ordinary citizens paying the highest price.

The DPP's recent defeat, while significant, is only a first round. More votes are scheduled, and the outcome is far from certain. Taiwan's political currents can shift quickly, and the party has proven adept at mobilizing grassroots sentiment — especially by playing the familiar card of "anti-China" rhetoric. It remains a potent tool in a society where identity politics are deeply entrenched.

Still, this vote was a clear warning. Voters are not blind to political manipulation, and the DPP's increasingly combative approach may be backfiring. If Lai's administration chooses to double down — opting for retaliation and escalation rather than reflection — it risks eroding both its legitimacy and the social cohesion the island so desperately needs.

What comes next is uncertain — but volatility cannot be ruled out. With public support shaken and legislative control out of reach, the DPP may seek to shift focus outward, using cross-Strait tensions to rally its base and regain narrative control. In such a scenario, provocations or policy hardening are possible. For Beijing, the priority is clear: maintain strategic composure while staying prepared for potential disruption ahead.

Xin Qiang is director of the Center for Taiwan Studies at Fudan University.

DPP's politics of purge fails

The result of Taiwan's first wave of recall votes was, in every sense, a political debacle. More than that, it was a public verdict against what can only be described as the Lai style of political warfare.

This sweeping rejection by Taiwan residents was not just about technicalities. It was a blunt message: Taiwan's public has had enough. Enough of "anti-China" rhetoric being weaponized to crush political dissent. Enough of populist mobilization masquerading as "loving Taiwan". Enough of using recall powers to eliminate opposition lawmakers in an attempt to rebuild green-party hegemony in the legislature.

Let's be clear. This campaign, though framed as "protecting Taiwan", was in essence a top-down, DPP-orchestrated purge — aimed at silencing the Kuomintang and regaining control of the legislature through backdoor elections. The goal? A legislature without checks, without opposition, and without debate. The people saw through it. They refused to be pawns in a manufactured political showdown. In rejecting all 25 recalls, Taiwan residents said: We will not pay the price for your separatist agenda.

More telling than the results was the way they came about. Of the 25 recall attempts, 18 failed due to insufficient turnout—falling below the legally required 25 percent threshold. Despite a high-profile campaign, the average voter turnout barely crossed 55 percent, with many people deliberately casting "no" votes to reject what they saw as a cynical abuse of democratic process.

The message was loud and clear: People are tired of polarization and political theater. They seek stability, not strife; livelihood, not slogans. They want economic progress, not political vendettas. In voting down the recalls, the public voiced a desire for peace across the Strait, pragmatic cooperation, and freedom from being manipulated by ideological extremism.

Lai's "two states theory", his insistence on confrontation with the mainland, and his ambition to eliminate dissent under the banner of "defending Taiwan" all fly in the face of what most Taiwan residents actually want. His approach threatens peace, chokes off economic opportunity, and blocks cross-Strait dialogue. It is a path of ruin, not resilience.

Crucially, this defeat signals the diminishing return of the DPP's long-favored "struggle-for-power-through-confrontation" strategy. It also marks a turning point in the effectiveness of "anti-China" mobilization as a political tool. But we must not assume that Lai will soften course. If anything, this setback may drive him to double down on hardline tactics—both inside the island and in cross-Strait policy.

Lai's political persona — rooted in his self-identification as a "pragmatic worker for Taiwan independence" — makes a strategic pivot unlikely. His instinct will be to shift blame, escalate tensions, and manufacture new conflicts. The next round of recall votes on August 23 could well become a new flashpoint. Worse still, Lai may attempt to reframe his defeat into an external confrontation — leaning further into Washington's embrace, amplifying his "international visibility", and deepening systemic confrontation with Beijing.

This makes it even more urgent for the mainland to remain vigilant and proactive. As Lai turns outward to compensate for inward failure, the mainland must safeguard its strategic initiative, uphold national unity, and anchor long-term peace across the Taiwan Strait. The recent recall vote may have weakened Lai's political authority, but it has not ended his confrontational ambitions.

Zhu Songling is a professor at the Institute of Taiwan Studies, Beijing Union University.