Ko Wen-je has returned home. Does this signal the beginning of turmoil within the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP)? Political insiders in Taipei do not think so. Their reasoning is simple: inside the TPP, there is neither the strength nor the will to openly rebel against the “supreme spiritual leader.” Even the so-called party chairman, Huang Kuo-chang, lacks both the capital and the courage to mount a revolt.
The Two-Year Rotation Plan
Ko has made it clear that he will implement a “two-year system” for the party’s at-large legislators. He declared, “This is the right thing to do!” In his logic, the “right person” must do the “right thing.” By pushing through this reform, Ko signals that he alone decides what is right, who holds authority, and who deserves loyalty. With this, the TPP can finally move beyond the awkward two-year period when Huang Kuo-chang acted like a “placeholder leader,” wielding temporary power by borrowing Ko’s legitimacy—what some mockingly call “using the emperor’s name to command the lords.”
In truth, this reform is not only about rotation or fairness. It is Ko’s way of reclaiming party supremacy. Once the two-year system takes effect, Huang’s foundation collapses overnight. Without the backing of eight fellow legislators, he becomes a general without an army.
Who Is the Real Leader?
Ko’s next step will likely be to convene a national party congress. The question posed to members will be brutally simple: who looks more like a leader—Ko Wen-je or Huang Kuo-chang? The answer, to most, is self-evident.
The Analects of Confucius describe the “three transformations” of a gentleman: from a distance, he appears solemn; up close, he is warm; when he speaks, his words are firm and commanding. Which of the two better embodies this political persona? Who carries the air of a true leader? Certainly not the chairman who shouts himself red in the face, strangles allies in political quarrels, and bears the stain of being called a “turncoat serving three masters.”
Ko’s Image Problem—and His Rebound
Critics often say Ko Wen-je lacks a solid “central ideology.” Perhaps that is true, but at least he projects the image of having one. He can sprinkle references to “quantum mechanics” into his speeches, giving himself a veneer of intellectual depth. After spending a year under the pressures of legal troubles and political confinement, his demeanor has subtly shifted. While still far from embodying the moral grandeur of a Mandela, he is now more than capable of gathering his “Little Grass” supporters and lecturing them on AI and the future of technology.
Could Huang Kuo-chang, Cornell-educated law PhD, though he may be, capture the imagination of young supporters in the same way? Few would think so. Huang’s credentials may be impeccable, but charisma and cultural resonance are different beasts altogether.
The Coming Collapse of Huang’s Base
Once the two-year system is enacted, Huang loses his platform. The support of eight legislators, which once gave him leverage, evaporates. Ko effectively removes the very ground Huang stands upon. Without this base, Huang is vulnerable. Even the Kuomintang’s whip, Fu Kun-chi, who once found it convenient to “pat Huang on the head,” may soon seek a new ally—someone else to treat as a hero, someone with a head worth crowning.
Who can guarantee that at the next TPP congress, another “chairman” will not be chosen?
The Chairman’s Next Move
Where, then, does that leave Huang Kuo-chang—the chairman who risks losing both his title and his army? Taiwanese politics has a way of opening new doors when old ones slam shut. If one mountain will not move, a man must move himself. In Taichung, Mayor Lu Shiow-yen—nicknamed “Mama Lu”—is already sending out invitations to potential allies. If Huang is abandoned within the TPP, why not ride southward, rally what remains of the “Little Grass” battalion, and pledge allegiance to a new camp?
Politics is pragmatic. What the TPP no longer offers, another political home may provide. Who can say that by 2028, Huang will not reinvent himself as a bold new figure, overturning expectations and reshaping the political battlefield? Time and distance transform reputations. A “scoundrel” today can reemerge tomorrow as a respected warrior. As the saying goes, after three months apart, one should view a man with fresh eyes. Underestimating Huang could be a costly mistake.
The Battle of Voices
The spectacle ahead is not only about positions and titles but also about voices. Who will continue to roar and bellow, shaking the political sky? Who will dare to think of themselves as standing higher than heaven itself? These contests of personality will shape the coming year as much as formal institutions or legal rules.
For Ko, the path is clear: he must reassert himself as the indispensable leader, using the two-year system to strip away rivals’ bases of support. For Huang, the challenge is survival—whether through reinvention, alliances, or sheer stubbornness. For the TPP as a whole, the stakes are existential: can it function as more than a personal vehicle for Ko Wen-je?
And as for the titles of “party chairman,” whether of the TPP or even of the KMT’s power centers in New Taipei, these labels may soon prove transient. In Taiwanese politics, today’s authority can vanish overnight, replaced by the next louder voice or more compelling personality.
Conclusion
Ko Wen-je’s return sets the stage for an inevitable showdown. The two-year legislative rotation is not merely a procedural reform—it is a weapon. With it, Ko can reclaim power and expose Huang Kuo-chang’s weaknesses. Yet in politics, no outcome is final. Huang may lose his base but find a new stage. Ko may regain dominance but risk alienating allies and supporters along the way.
Ultimately, the TPP’s fate hinges on whether it evolves into an institution with its own identity or remains a stage for dueling personalities. For now, one truth rings clear: the drama is far from over. The coming year will not only test Ko Wen-je’s authority but also reveal whether Huang Kuo-chang can, against the odds, carve out a second act.
Author: New Congress