A Taiwan Professor Answers His Mainland Critics

A useful glimpse of just how wide the gap across the Taiwan Strait remains.

Last week, Pekingnology published a translation of an unusual essay by Ci-Ze Li, an associate professor at National Changhua University of Education in Taiwan. Taking Beijing’s call to explore a “One Country, Two Systems” solution seriously, Li asked what Taiwan should demand in such negotiations. His proposed terms included continued democratic elections, final judicial authority in Taiwan, no permanent PLA deployment, a locally controlled defence force, extensive fiscal and economic autonomy, and legal safeguards against Beijing unilaterally reducing that autonomy.

Skepticism in Taiwan runs on two levels: first, that Beijing would never accept many of these conditions in the first place. Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council made that argument, essentially saying Beijing would agree to “none” of several key proposals. Second, even if Beijing did accept them, skeptics question what could prevent Beijing from later reinterpreting, weakening, or withdrawing those commitments.

But many readers on the Chinese mainland also found Li’s proposal unacceptable — for almost exactly the opposite reasons.

The discussion has attracted unusual official attention. China’s Taiwan Affairs Office referred to Li’s essays at two consecutive weekly press conferences, on September 9 and September 16, with Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council responding in between.

Li subsequently wrote two more essays responding to his mainland critics, also in the mysterious WeChat blog called 正当石 Zhengdangshi. The first is translated below.

The exchange offers a useful glimpse of just how wide the gap across the Taiwan Strait remains: people who speak the same language and share much of the same cultural tradition can have remarkably different ideas about what even a conceivable political settlement would look like. —Zichen Wang

Ci-Ze Li

台灣教授回應大陸讀者對「兩制方案，台灣該談什麼？」一文的質疑

A Taiwan Professor Responds to Mainland Readers’ Objections to “What Should Taiwan Ask For in a Two Systems Solution?” (30 August 2026)

Zhengdangshi’s note: Yesterday’s article sparked intense discussion in the comments, drawing nearly 1,000 responses from readers on both sides of the Strait — a single-day record since this blog was launched. Some expressed respect for Professor Ci-Ze Li at National Changhua University of Education in Taiwan, while others raised questions or criticism.

Disagreement is not a problem. What matters is that people have begun talking seriously about the issue, and that in itself is highly significant.

As one reader from Taiwan put it, Professor Li was clearly acting in good faith, “feeling the stones while crossing the river” and offering an initial contribution in the hope of prompting better ideas. The reader wrote that, as someone from Taiwan, he had never before seen a document that genuinely explored how a “One Country, Two Systems” for Taiwan might be translated into a legislative framework. Although he disagreed with many of the article’s arguments, he nevertheless welcomed such a direct discussion, noting that this was an exploration into extremely deep waters — an issue concerning not only the two sides of the Strait, but the Chinese nation as a whole.

On 19 August, Zhengdangshi raised the question of what a “One Country, Two Systems” solution for the Taiwan question might look like and opened the issue for discussion through its reader submissions. In just ten days, it received numerous submissions from readers on both sides of the Strait. The discussion has now reached its most intense point yet, showing that readers across the Strait have begun to engage seriously with the ultimate question of cross-Strait reunification.

Shortly after Professor Li’s article was published yesterday, China Times News Network republished it, and the article quickly rose to the top of its trending list.

In response to questions and criticisms from readers on both sides of the Strait, Professor Ci-Ze Li has written the following reply. We publish it today as the twelfth in our series of letters from readers across the Strait.

One Response, Misunderstandings on Both Sides

First, I would like to thank Zhengdangshi for giving me the opportunity and space to publish my article, “What Should Taiwan Ask For in a Two Systems Solution?” I am once again grateful for the openness and broad-mindedness.

After the article was published, however, many readers raised criticisms concerning the constitutional logic of a unitary state, national security, democracy, final judicial authority, troop deployment, and safeguards for compliance.

Some of these comments rightly identified areas where the original article needs refinement. Others, however, revealed just how wide the gap remains between the two sides of the Strait in their understanding of “One Country, Two Systems”.

The original article was never intended as an ultimatum demanding that Beijing accept every item on a list, still less as an attempt to reinterpret the current Constitution of the People’s Republic of China as a federal constitution. It was a conditional institutional stress test: if Taiwan were to accept a one-China sovereignty framework, what special institutional arrangements might Beijing be willing to offer, and how far would it be prepared to bind itself through law?

Negotiation on an Equal Footing, With Give and Take

In 2019, General Secretary Xi Jinping proposed “we should explore a ‘two systems’ solution to the Taiwan question” and stated explicitly that “Peaceful reunification means achieving it through consultation and discussion as equals.”

Since this is being framed as an exploration, then democracy, the judiciary, national security, troop deployment, public finances, and safeguards for compliance cannot all be treated as non-negotiable before discussion even begins.

Otherwise, this would not be a joint exploration of a solution to the Taiwan question. It would simply amount to asking Taiwan to accept a solution already drawn up by the central government.

In other words, “consultation and discussion as equals” necessarily implies a negotiating process that takes time. Negotiations over reunification cannot be completed in a single step.

Moreover, any substantive negotiation must involve give and take, mutual accommodation, and compromise — not the signing of an instrument of surrender. Only through such a process could peaceful reunification conceivably lead to an outcome acceptable to both sides of the Strait.

Below, I respond briefly to several of the most important criticisms raised by readers.

Autonomy Derives from the State — But That Does Not Mean It Can Be Withdrawn at Will

The strongest criticism was that the People’s Republic of China is a unitary state and that the autonomy of a special administrative region derives from authorisation by the central government. The original article’s formulation — that “the powers exercised directly by the central government should be expressly enumerated, while all other powers should be exercised by Taiwan” — could therefore be read as implying that Taiwan possesses powers in its own right and then delegates some of them to the central government.

This criticism is partly correct. The original article should have been more precise.

Under the current constitutional order of the People’s Republic of China, the high degree of autonomy of a Taiwan special administrative region would have to derive from the national Constitution and authorisation by the National People’s Congress (NPC). It should not be described in a way that suggests Taiwan possesses an inherent sovereignty alongside that of the central government.

A more accurate formulation would be as follows: pursuant to Article 31 of the Constitution of the People’s Republic of China and a special constitutional arrangement for Taiwan, the NPC would grant Taiwan a broad degree of autonomy; the state powers to be exercised directly by the central government, together with the national laws applicable in Taiwan, would have to be expressly enumerated in the Constitution and a subsequent Basic Law of Taiwan. Other matters of local governance would be handled by Taiwan within the scope of that authorisation.

This would not mean Taiwan “ceding” powers to the central government. Rather, it would mean the central government defining the scope of Taiwan’s autonomy clearly and comprehensively through national law.

The fact that authority ultimately derives from the central government does not mean the scope of autonomy must remain vague. Nor does the fact that autonomy is granted by the state mean that any central government department should be free to withdraw it at will through administrative orders.

The allocation of powers could also be refined beyond the binary structure proposed in the original article and organised into four lists: matters reserved to the central government, matters within Taiwan’s autonomy, matters requiring joint cooperation, and matters prohibited to both sides.

Diplomacy, nationality, and overall national defence would fall under the central government. Elections, local legislation, finances, currency, education, and ordinary judicial matters would fall under Taiwan. National security, cross-jurisdictional crime, major epidemics, and strategic infrastructure could be treated as areas requiring joint cooperation.

Taiwan, for its part, would be prohibited from pursuing de jure separation or bringing in foreign troops. The central government, in turn, would be prohibited from circumventing the Basic Law to alter Taiwan’s institutions unilaterally.

Lists of powers are not unique to federal systems. The Basic Law of Hong Kong limits which national laws apply in Hong Kong and prohibits central government departments from interfering in matters that Hong Kong administers on its own.

Comparative constitutional practice offers other examples. Italy’s Constitution declares the Republic to be one and indivisible while leaving legislative powers not reserved to the state to the regions. The United Kingdom likewise operates with a list of matters reserved to Westminster in relation to Scotland.

A list of powers is therefore a technique for allocating governing authority. It does not necessarily imply that a locality possesses a separate national sovereignty.

The solution proposed in the original article is not a confederation, as it excludes for Taiwan formal diplomatic relations, a UN seat, foreign troops, a unilateral right of withdrawal, and an independent right to deploy military force abroad. It does, however, borrow certain institutional safeguards against unilateral change that are found in federal systems and asymmetric autonomy. There is no need to avoid acknowledging this.

Whether Beijing would be willing, for the sake of peaceful reunification, to adopt constitutional safeguards more robust than those used in Hong Kong and Macao is precisely one of the questions negotiations would have to answer.

It must also be acknowledged that the “three keys” proposed in the original article — joint consent from the NPC, Taiwan’s legislature, and Taiwan’s residents — do not exist under the current Constitution of the People’s Republic of China. For such a mechanism to be established, Beijing would have to agree to amend the Constitution and add a dedicated chapter on Taiwan.

Even a constitutional amendment could not honestly guarantee that the arrangement could never be changed in the future. What it could do is make any such change more difficult, slower, more transparent, and more costly.

The original article never sought absolute irrevocability. It sought protection against arbitrary revocation.

National Security Must Be Neither Entirely Localised Nor Indefinitely Centralised

Some readers argued that cases endangering the security of the entire state could not reasonably be left entirely to Taiwan to define, investigate, and adjudicate on its own. That criticism has merit.

No reunification solution could allow Taiwan, in the name of autonomous legislation, to legalise armed secession, espionage, submission to foreign military command, or violent attempts to undermine the reunification arrangement. The central government would bear ultimate responsibility for national security. That point should be acknowledged.

But the principle that national security is ultimately a central responsibility does not automatically mean that mainland national security, public security, and procuratorial authorities should enjoy unrestricted powers to enter Taiwan and enforce the law. The real questions are: what conduct constitutes an offence, who legislates, who investigates, and who adjudicates?

A more workable approach would involve defining, at the national level, the core security threats that must be addressed. Taiwan would then introduce the specific implementing legislation and take responsibility for day-to-day enforcement. Ordinary civil, criminal, and administrative cases, as well as national security cases falling within Taiwan’s sphere of autonomy, would be subject to final adjudication in Taiwan.

For the small number of cases involving foreign military intervention, cross-jurisdictional espionage, armed secession, or the security of central government institutions, the Basic Law of Taiwan could specify in advance procedures for central or joint jurisdiction.

The central government could have rights relating to the transfer of evidence, coordination of jurisdiction, initiation of major cases, and limited review. But mainland law-enforcement bodies should not be able to invoke national security in broad terms to conduct arbitrary arrests, searches, or investigations in Taiwan. The central government cannot be excluded from national security, but nor can Taiwan’s institutions be rendered meaningless.

The principle of “patriots governing Taiwan” could likewise be translated into concrete legal obligations: no participation in violent secession, no espionage, no acceptance of foreign military command, and no secret foreign political funding. But whether someone has violated those obligations should be determined through clearly defined legal criteria, evidence, and judicial procedure — not political stance alone. Otherwise, “patriotism” would cease to be a legally testable obligation and become a political qualification used to exclude opponents.

Democracy Is Not About Institutional Superiority, but a Practical Threshold for Any Solution for the Taiwan Question

Some readers argued that elections in Taiwan have produced bitter partisan conflict, short-sighted policymaking, and governance dysfunction, and that there is therefore insufficient justification for insisting that Taiwan’s democratic system remain unchanged.

Taiwan’s democracy certainly has serious flaws, yet the existence of elections cannot be used to justify every failure of governance. The shortcomings of democratic government and the question of whether people should lose the right to choose their government, change those in power peacefully, and criticise authority openly are two different issues.

This article does not need to prove that Western-style democracy is, in the abstract, superior to every other system. The real question is that democratic elections, multi-party competition, press freedom, and judicial remedies have already become an important part of Taiwan’s existing social system and way of life.

Since Beijing has said that it will “accommodate Taiwan’s actual conditions”, it cannot simultaneously promise to preserve Taiwan’s system while assuming from the outset that there will be no further changes of ruling party, that candidates will be politically screened, and that dissent will be restricted.

If the central government can decide on political grounds who may stand for election and which political parties may exist, elections would become little more than a mechanism for confirming predetermined choices rather than a means through which the people of Taiwan authorise their government.

Some readers have gone further, arguing that after reunification, Taiwan’s existing identity would have to be “uprooted” and its education and thinking remoulded. Views of this kind, if anything, help explain why Taiwan would demand institutional safeguards.

A shared history, national identity, and constitutional obligations can develop gradually through education, exchange, and public discussion. But if the real meaning of “two systems” is first to reshape people’s thinking and then eliminate opponents, that would not preserve differences. It would amount to pursuing one system in the name of two.

The so-called consent of the people of Taiwan must, of course, include lawful residents who hold different political views. Only those convicted by a court of violence, espionage, or other serious offences should face lawful restrictions on their rights.

If those who oppose reunification are excluded first and only those who remain are then asked to express support, the result would not be popular consent, but merely filtered submission.

Regional Defence Is Not a Second National Army, but a Transitional Arrangement

On the question of troops and armed forces, critics argued that national defence lies at the core of state sovereignty and that allowing Taiwan to retain armed forces while requiring the PLA not to be stationed there would effectively create “a state within a state”.

The original article should clarify that it proposed no permanent PLA troop deployment and the retention of a regional defence force during the early stages after reunification. It did not propose that Taiwan permanently maintain an independent national military capable of confronting the central government.

Nor is the idea of Taiwan retaining armed forces a condition Taiwan has newly invented. Beijing’s own 1993 white paper, The Taiwan Question and Reunification of China, explicitly stated that after reunification Taiwan would “have its own armed forces” and that “the mainland would not send troops or administrative personnel to be stationed in Taiwan.”

This shows that Taiwan retaining its own armed force, together with the absence of mainland troop deployment in the early stages after reunification, was not necessarily incompatible with the one-China principle — at least within Beijing’s own earlier conception of the arrangement.

Of course, the 1993 white paper is not a vested right that Taiwan can demand be honoured today. Nor did the 2022 white paper restate those arrangements item by item. Its significance is simply that Beijing itself once considered such arrangements compatible with “One Country, Two Systems”.

If Beijing now believes circumstances have changed, it can propose different terms. But it cannot retroactively characterise an arrangement that it once proposed itself as inherently separatist.

A more reasonable revision would be to place overall national defence, questions of war and peace, and foreign military relations under the central government. Taiwan’s existing armed forces could, during a transitional period, be reorganised into a force responsible for regional defence, maritime law enforcement, disaster relief, and local security. It could not possess nuclear weapons or long-range strategic strike capabilities, accept foreign military command, or join foreign military alliances.

Whether, when and how those forces would be further reorganised and integrated could depend on the progress made by both sides in fulfilling their commitments. If Beijing considered a national troop presence an indispensable symbol of sovereignty, arrangements involving limited troop numbers, designated locations, publicly disclosed missions, and non-interference in local governance could also be discussed.

But requiring Taiwan to disarm completely on the first day an agreement takes effect and then wait for Beijing to fulfil its commitments later would still create an asymmetrical risk of disarming before the other side had fulfilled its own commitments.

A Credible Commitment Must Bind Both Beijing and Taiwan

Some readers criticised the original article for focusing only on the risk of Beijing reneging while failing to address the possibility that Taiwan might use a transitional period to delay reunification, bring in external forces, or overturn the agreement after a change of ruling party. This is perhaps the criticism the original article most needs to take on board.

Credible commitments must work in both directions.

Beijing should commit not to use ordinary legislation, administrative orders, or ad hoc legal interpretations to arbitrarily diminish Taiwan’s democracy, final judicial authority, fiscal and economic system, or basic rights. It should not acquire general law-enforcement powers in Taiwan in the name of national security, nor should it use population, land, or capital flows to reshape Taiwan’s autonomous institutions.

Taiwan, for its part, should commit not to pursue de jure separation, join foreign military alliances, host foreign bases, accept foreign military command, or deploy strategic weapons threatening the mainland. It should complete agreed national security legislation and transfers of authority, and should not overturn an agreement that has already been democratically approved and incorporated into law simply because a different political party comes to power.

Every stage should have deadlines, milestones, verification criteria, a period for remedying breaches, and clearly defined consequences for non-compliance. If one side fails to fulfil its obligations, the other should be able to suspend reciprocal obligations that have not yet been performed. The arrangement cannot be one in which Taiwan transfers powers first, and Beijing decides only afterwards how much autonomy to protect.

Nor should the lessons of Hong Kong be reduced to a simple question of which side was right or wrong. Beijing sees foreign intervention, gaps in national security, and disorder in governance. Taiwan sees the possibility that the central government could alter previously understood boundaries of autonomy through national security legislation, changes to electoral rules, and legal interpretation. Both perceptions can exist at the same time.

A genuine solution for the Taiwan question would have to address both sets of concerns rather than simply declaring one side’s fears to be completely baseless.

Some comments have gone further, arguing that “two systems” should merely be a transitional arrangement during the early stages after reunification. Under this view, Taiwan would eventually change its flag, accept troop deployments, reshape education, and move towards “one country, one system”.

This position is at least candid. But it raises a further question: if “two systems” is merely a policy intended to be phased out once conditions are deemed ripe, why should Taiwan exchange an irreversible transfer of power for an institutional arrangement destined to disappear?

If the ultimate objective is genuinely “one country, one system”, then the arrangement should honestly be described as a “transition towards one country, one system”. It cannot seek Taiwan’s consent by promising the long-term continuation of two systems while simultaneously assuming that two systems will eventually be abolished.

Phased Implementation Is Not Indefinite Delay, and a Timetable Must Not Become an Ultimatum

Readers’ concern that Taiwan might repeatedly delay implementation by exploiting elections and changes of government is not without basis. Phased implementation therefore needs more than an agreed sequence of steps. It must also include jointly agreed deadlines, completion criteria, and mechanisms to prevent deliberate delay.

But a “five-to-ten-year timetable for implementation agreed by both sides” is entirely different from saying, “accept within five to ten years or force will be used”. The former is a contractual timetable. The latter is an ultimatum.

An ultimatum may force one side to sign, but it cannot create genuine acceptance or guarantee stable governance after reunification.

Article 7 of the Anti-Secession Law of the People’s Republic of China already provides that “The state stands for the achievement of peaceful reunification through consultations and negotiations on an equal footing between the two sides of the Taiwan Straits. These consultations and negotiations may be conducted in steps and phases and with flexible and varied modalities.”

Phased implementation is therefore not an invention by Taiwan intended to delay reunification. It is already recognised in Beijing’s own current law as one possible method of pursuing peaceful reunification.

Similarly, the conditions offered in 1993 should not be treated as a minimum offer that Beijing can never go below. The balance of power across the Strait has changed, and Beijing’s negotiating terms may change accordingly. But greater power only affects how much pressure one side can exert. It does not automatically create credible commitments, still less turn coerced compliance into freely given consent.

Taiwan’s current legal position must also be described more precisely.

Article 5-3 of the Act Governing Relations between the People of the Taiwan Area and the Mainland Area does not merely impose a high threshold for political agreements. It expressly prohibits making “destruction or change of the nation’s sovereign status or the free and democratic constitutional order” a subject of negotiation.

For Taiwan to enter negotiations of the kind hypothesised in this article, it would therefore first have to change the relevant laws and constitutional framework through proper constitutional procedures. This is not something the executive branch could accomplish simply by signing an agreement.

The question put to Taiwan’s residents would not be whether Chinese sovereignty exists, still less whether Taiwan possesses a unilateral right of separation. It would be whether a specific negotiated agreement should replace Taiwan’s existing institutional arrangements and take legal effect within Taiwan’s jurisdiction.

Approval by the NPC on Beijing’s side, together with approval by Taiwan’s legislature and its people, would provide the necessary authorisation on both sides for the institutional transition.

Criticism Is Easy — Offer a Better Path to Reunification

At this point, I would like to put the matter more directly.

Some criticisms and rebuttals that quote selectively or take passages out of context have nevertheless helped me identify where the original article was incomplete and refine the argument accordingly.

But criticism itself is easy.

What is genuinely difficult is to put forward a reunification solution that is more workable than the one proposed here, carries lower costs, and offers a better prospect of long-term stability.

Here, I would ask just one question.

If the only solution regarded as capable of eliminating any future source of trouble is one that reduces autonomy, deploys troops immediately, abolishes Taiwan’s armed forces, places national security directly under central control, screens electoral candidates, and reshapes education and political thinking, why does Beijing itself still have to calibrate so carefully the intensity of so-called “coercive reunification” measures — including isolation, blockades, and coast guard enforcement?

Why must it still take into account the possibility that excessive pressure could provoke a backlash in Taiwanese public opinion, regional escalation, international intervention, and economic costs for the mainland itself?

This is not to say that Beijing lacks military capability, still less that Taiwan could emerge unscathed from an all-out war.

What must be distinguished are three different capabilities: the ability to inflict enormous losses on Taiwan; the ability to compel Taiwan to accept political conditions; and the ability, after reunification, to secure social cooperation and sustain stable governance over the long term.

The first does not automatically produce the other two.

A blockade is likewise not a cost-free shortcut. Relevant strategic studies have argued that a blockade might not be enough to compel Taiwan to submit, while potentially disrupting global trade, increasing the risk of military escalation, and imposing economic costs on the mainland itself. The ability to seal off ports is not the same as the ability to secure political acceptance; the ability to destroy the capacity to resist is not the same as the ability to eliminate the will to resist.

Therefore, those who reject the solution proposed in this article also bear some responsibility for offering an alternative. They should answer concretely: How would a majority of Taiwan’s people be persuaded to accept it? How would outside powers be prevented from intervening? How would the costs of war, sanctions, and supply-chain disruption be contained? How would more than 20 million residents who currently lack identification with reunification be governed? And how would reunification avoid becoming dependent over the long term on military control, political purges, and coercive social management?

If the answer is simply that “the balance of power has changed, so there is no longer any need to make concessions”, or “reunify first and deal with the consequences later”, or “remould those who refuse to accept it and use force against those who resist”, then this is not a better solution for peaceful reunification than the one offered here. It is an abandonment of peaceful reunification and of “One Country, Two Systems” in favour of reunification through force.

If there is a better solution, put it forward.

Simply drawing red lines more rigidly will not bring reunification any closer. Nor will simply writing Taiwan’s wishes and concerns out of the equation make the people of Taiwan more willing to accept reunification.

Conclusion: “One Country” Must Not Be Hollowed Out by Autonomy, and “Two Systems” Must Not Be Erased by Sovereignty

Following this round of criticism, the original article should be revised in three important respects.

First, it should explicitly acknowledge that Taiwan’s autonomy would derive from the national Constitution and authorisation by the NPC.

Second, it should acknowledge that the central government would bear ultimate responsibility for national security and overall national defence.

Third, it should add corresponding obligations on Taiwan’s side: not to pursue separation, not to bring in foreign military forces, to fulfil national security obligations, and to comply with an agreed implementation timetable.

But these corrections cannot be used to support three very different conclusions: that because autonomy derives from the central government, the central government may withdraw it whenever it chooses; that because national security is ultimately a central responsibility, ordinary political dissent may therefore be treated as a security threat; or that because the mainland is stronger, the consent of the people of Taiwan no longer matters.

If, within a one-China framework, Taiwan refuses to renounce separation or the introduction of foreign military forces, then that would not be reunification. If the central government refuses to constrain its own power to unilaterally reduce Taiwan’s autonomy, then that would not be “two systems”.

A genuinely sustainable arrangement would have to work both ways: Taiwan could not use autonomy as a route back towards separation, while Beijing could not use reunification to abolish Taiwan’s autonomy. “One country” cannot be hollowed out by autonomy, and neither can “Two Systems” be erased in the name of sovereignty.

Rejecting one solution is not the same as proposing another. Nor does showing that Beijing has the power to punish Taiwan mean that Beijing has found a low-cost path to reunification that can secure the cooperation of Taiwan’s people and sustain stable governance over the long term.

That is the real question that all advocates of peaceful reunification, reunification by force, and coercive reunification alike cannot sidestep, overlook, or, indeed, ignore.