When Taiwan People's Party (TPP) Legislator Li Zhen-xiu (李貞秀) — a mainland-born spouse recently elected to the legislature — appeared before the Interior Committee for her first official interpellation session, Interior Minister Liu Shih-fang (劉世芳) simply refused to face her.
Liu remained silent throughout the session, declining to answer questions or provide requested documents, declaring that she would not "break the law knowingly." This posture was more than arrogant; it represented a direct challenge to the checks and balances that define democratic governance.
A minister rewriting the rules
Liu's justification rests on her personal determination that Li is an "illegal mainland spouse." The facts of Li's legal standing contradict this. She holds a Republic of China national ID card, was officially certified as elected by the Central Election Commission, and was sworn in according to law.
What Li exercises in the legislature is not a personal privilege, but an institutionally guaranteed right embedded in Taiwan's constitutional framework. She represents a constituency of approximately 360,000 mainland spouses living in Taiwan and their families. Unless the legislature votes to remove her, or a court overturns her eligibility, her status and authority as a lawmaker must be respected.
The legal obligations are unambiguous. Under the Act Governing the Exercise of Legislative Yuan Powers, the presiding officer may order officials to appear and require them to respond. Government officials may not refuse to attend, answer, or withhold requested materials without legitimate cause, such as information certified as classified for national security purposes. Legislative Yuan Speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) made this explicit following cross-caucus consultations, ruling that Li's legislative powers must be respected pending any final judicial determination. Liu ignored this directive entirely.
Stonewalling the legislature, ignoring the public
The Interior Ministry's position on mainland spouses has been sweeping: it has repeatedly applied the Nationality Act — an ordinary statute — over the Act Governing Relations Between the People of the Taiwan Area and the Mainland Area, the applicable special law. This effectively strips mainland spouses of political participation rights. Premier Cho Jung-tai (卓榮泰) had previously stated his administration would not provide documents to Li; Liu went further by refusing to even take the floor.
This is not passive noncompliance. It is a deliberate withdrawal from accountability.
The conduct echoes a precedent set by President Lai Ching-te (賴清德) during his earlier tenure as Tainan mayor, when he refused for nearly 300 consecutive days to appear before the Tainan City Council for interpellation, citing the legal troubles of the council speaker at the time. The logic then, as now, treats democratic oversight as optional.
The scene in the legislature was further complicated by the presiding officer. Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) Legislator Li Po-yi (李柏毅), serving as session chair, suggested that executive officials need not take the floor out of "mutual respect" between the branches. This fundamentally misreads the chair's role. Under the Legislative Yuan Organization Act, the presiding officer's function is to maintain order, not to shield executive officials from scrutiny. By allowing a minister to ignore a specific legislator, the chair effectively nullified that lawmaker's constitutionally granted powers — an act of institutional self-disarmament.
An institutional culture of contempt
This is not an isolated incident. It is the visible expression of a culture of executive contempt for legislative oversight that has developed steadily under DPP governance.
The pattern extends beyond Liu. Former ambassador to Japan Hsieh Chang-ting (謝長廷) repeatedly skipped legislative hearings without cause. Former Foreign Minister Joseph Wu (吳釗燮) once dared opposition legislators to "go ahead and charge me with contempt." Premier Cho has refused to countersign legislation passed by the full legislature and challenged opposition parties to file a no-confidence motion. Former Premier Su Tseng-chang (蘇貞昌) routinely clashed with opposition legislators in heated exchanges that became a defining image of his tenure.
In the United States, contempt of Congress carries penalties of up to one year in prison and fines reaching $100,000 — consequences faced by figures including Hunter Biden, Steve Bannon, and Peter Navarro. Taiwan's legislature recently passed contempt-related amendments, but the Constitutional Court's subsequent interpretation rendered them effectively unenforceable as criminal provisions. What remains is closer to an ethical guideline than a legal deterrent, and executive officials act accordingly.
Double standards as a governing style
The refusal to answer Li's questions sits alongside a broader pattern of selective scrutiny. The ruling party has applied intense pressure on individuals it deems insufficiently loyal to Taiwan's national identity — particularly those with mainland connections — while treating similar red flags within its own ranks with conspicuous leniency. When a nominee to the National Security Council advisory body was reported to have held a research affiliation at a Chinese university, the matter was quietly managed.
Taken together, the picture is one of an executive branch that declines to follow budget laws it finds inconvenient, refuses to countersign legislation it dislikes, and boycotts elected legislators it has decided to delegitimize.
The ruling party speaks of cross-party reconciliation while its officials publicly defy opposition lawmakers. The target on this occasion was Li Zhen-xiu, and the hundreds of thousands of mainland spouses she represents. But the institution being damaged is the legislature itself — and with it, the constitutional order that gives democratic governance its legitimacy.
