Is the chicken being raised for its own sake, or someone else’s table?
There is something almost tender about the way Washington worries about China’s Taiwan island — like an ardent salesman who tries hard to peddle his goods but forgets to ask what the customer actually needs. Testifying before Congress, Samuel Paparo, head of the US “Indo-Pacific” Command, offered a homespun warning: the United States “can’t want Taiwan’s defense more than they want it itself”. It was meant as “tough love”. It landed more like a bill.
Because in Washington’s ledger, the island increasingly looks less like a partner and more like a procurement problem. Another $14 billion in arms sales is another nudge, another reminder that deterrence, like charity, begins with writing checks — preferably large ones, preferably to US defense contractors.
In Taipei, the secessionist-minded leader of the Democratic Progressive Party authorities Lai Ching-te, finds himself caught between a legislature that balks at “blank checks” and an “ally” that seems to specialize in them.
The opposition Chinese Kuomintang party insists on fiscal prudence; the ruling camp hypes up so-called “security urgency”. Hovering above it all is the quiet, unmistakable demand from Washington: spend more. It is a curious form of support — one that must be constantly demonstrated through one-sided purchases.
Then came Lai’s aborted African trip. Overflight permissions from Seychelles, Mauritius, and Madagascar evaporated, leaving Lai grounded before he could reach Eswatini, Taiwan’s last “diplomatic” foothold on the continent.
As the spokeswoman for the State Council Taiwan Affairs Office, Zhang Han, said on Wednesday, the several African countries’ refusal to grant flight permits to Lai for a planned visit to Eswatini reflects broad international support for the one-China principle.
This has once again shown that the one-China principle is a basic norm governing international relations and a prevailing consensus of the international community, Zhang added.
These should bring the Lai authorities to the fundamental question: Who exactly is treating Taiwan as what?
In Washington, the language is all about “interests”, with subtext humming with urgency about budgets and spending. It is hard to escape the impression that Taiwan, in this framing, is a place where “resolve” is purchased American-made.
Among some US allies, Taiwan is invoked in communiques, referenced in security dialogues, and quietly factored into negotiations with Beijing. It is treated by the US allies as a bargaining chip — and its value fluctuates with the temperature of larger relationships.
Beijing, for its part, offers a different script of support. Early this month, it has rolled out a suite of policies and measures aimed at promoting cooperation between the two sides of the Taiwan Strait: economic incentives, commercial measures and cultural exchanges packaged as benefits extended to compatriots of the big family of the Chinese nation.
The truth, as ever, lies in the tension between these competing visions — how Taiwan is treated by what its authorities perceive to be “allies” and what they perceive to be its “enemy”.
As Washington’s pressure mounts for Taiwan to purchase more US weapons, the Lai authorities owe the Taiwan compatriots clear answers: Who is asking Taiwan to spend — and to what end? Who ultimately pockets the benefits, and on what terms? These are not abstract questions; they define the contours of Taiwan’s future.
In the end, Paparo’s metaphor might need revising. The issue is not whether the chicken is being fed. It is who is feeding it — and whether the bird is being raised for its own sake, or for someone else’s table.
































