At recent commemorations of the February 28 Incident, Lai Ching-te described the postwar Kuomintang (KMT) administration as an “external” regime. The characterization is historically grounded. The violence of 1947—sparked by the shooting of a civilian cigarette vendor during an anti-smuggling crackdown—and the repression that followed were carried out by a government that lacked democratic legitimacy in Taiwan and was only loosely connected to the society it governed.

Yet this framing is not new. Lee Teng-hui famously described successive regimes in Taiwan—from Dutch and Qing rule to Japanese colonial administration and the early KMT state—as “alien” to the local population. Lai’s remarks thus echo a longer intellectual tradition in Taiwanese political thought. At the same time, this perspective is incomplete. Taiwan’s postwar trajectory was shaped not only by questions of legitimacy and identity, but also by the broader geopolitical forces of the mid-20th century—forces that complicate any singular narrative.

To understand this tension, it is necessary to situate 1947 within a wider historical frame. Taiwan had just emerged from five decades of Japanese colonial rule (1895–1945), during which its administrative, economic, and social systems were deeply transformed. The arrival of the KMT following Japan’s surrender did not represent a continuation of local governance, but rather a transfer of authority from one external regime to another. Corruption, economic mismanagement, and cultural friction between mainland officials and local populations quickly eroded trust, culminating in island-wide unrest and a violent crackdown.

From the perspective of historical justice, the critique embedded in Lai’s remarks is well grounded. The early postwar KMT state operated without democratic consent and responded to dissent with force. Recognizing this is central to Taiwan’s democratic identity today. However, focusing exclusively on the internal legitimacy of that regime risks obscuring the external conditions that shaped Taiwan’s survival in the years that followed.

The decisive turning point came with the outcome of the Chinese Civil War. As Communist forces under Mao Zedong consolidated control over mainland China, the KMT retreated to Taiwan, transforming the island into the last stronghold of the Republic of China. This relocation fundamentally altered Taiwan’s strategic position. Absent the KMT’s presence, Taiwan would have faced a high probability of incorporation into the newly established People’s Republic of China, though the precise outcome would have depended on a range of contingent factors.

At the time, the Chinese Communist Party had both the intent and, increasingly, the capacity to extend its control beyond the mainland, as seen in its consolidation of frontier regions such as Xinjiang and Tibet. Yet its ability to project power across the Taiwan Strait was constrained. Amphibious invasion posed significant logistical challenges; the KMT military remained a formidable defensive force on the island; and, most decisively, the broader Cold War environment intervened. The outbreak of the Korean War in 1950 prompted the United States to deploy the Seventh Fleet to the Taiwan Strait, effectively deterring an immediate attempt at unification by force.

This raises an important counterfactual. Had the KMT not retreated to Taiwan—had it collapsed entirely on the mainland, for instance during its final defensive efforts around Shanghai—the island’s fate would likely have hinged on U.S. strategic calculations. It is possible that Washington, in the early Cold War context, might still have moved to prevent Communist control of Taiwan, potentially supporting a locally grounded political authority. However, such an outcome would have been far from guaranteed. In the absence of an organized, anti-Communist regime already in place, Taiwan’s political future would have been significantly more uncertain.

Seen in this light, the KMT’s relocation to Taiwan can be understood not only as an imposition, but also as a geopolitical inflection point. The same regime that constrained local political expression also served, through the contingencies of Cold War strategy, as a buffer against Communist expansion. Over time, and under both internal and external pressures, this system evolved, eventually giving way to the democratic institutions that define Taiwan today.

This duality is not unique to the postwar period. Taiwan’s history has long been shaped by external forces interacting with local dynamics. The large-scale migration of Minnan and Hakka populations from southeastern China unfolded over centuries, driven by land scarcity, political upheaval, and economic opportunity. Under the Dutch East India Company, early waves of Han migration were actively encouraged to support agricultural production, while subsequent migration during Qing rule further transformed the island’s demographic and social landscape. Later upheavals, including the Taiping Rebellion, sustained these movements. Over time, these layers of migration, colonization, and exchange produced a society that is at once locally rooted and historically interconnected.

Recognizing this interconnectedness does not diminish the distinctiveness of Taiwan’s contemporary identity. Rather, it highlights the complexity of its development. Taiwan today is a consolidated democracy with a vibrant civic culture and a growing sense of separate identity. At the same time, its historical trajectory cannot be fully understood in isolation from the mainland or from the international system in which it is embedded.

For contemporary policymakers and analysts, this dual perspective carries practical implications. Taiwan’s future, like its past, will be shaped by the interaction between internal political choices and external strategic pressures. Simplified narratives—whether they emphasize identity at the expense of geopolitics, or vice versa—risk obscuring the complexity of the challenges ahead.

In this sense, the debate is not about choosing between competing historical interpretations, but about integrating them. Taiwan’s experience demonstrates that political development is rarely linear or internally determined. It is shaped by contingency, by external shocks, and by the unintended consequences of decisions made under pressure. The KMT’s arrival in Taiwan was one such moment: a product of defeat on the mainland that, paradoxically, created the conditions for a different kind of success on the island.

That paradox remains visible today. A visit to Green Island White Terror Memorial Park offers a stark reminder of the severity of authoritarian rule, where political prisoners were once detained during the White Terror. Yet the same historical trajectory that produced this repression also contributed, indirectly, to the preservation of a political space in which Taiwan’s later democratization could occur.

As tensions across the Taiwan Strait intensify and the regional status quo shows signs of strain, this historical awareness matters. Taiwan’s strategic importance in global security—anchored by its role in the semiconductor supply chain and its position within the regional deterrence architecture—is itself a product of these layered historical contingencies. Understanding this complexity is essential not only for interpreting Taiwan’s past, but for assessing the constraints and choices it faces today.

Taiwan’s story is not simply one of imposition or resistance, nor solely one of identity or strategy. It is a story of interdependence and divergence, of constraint and adaptation. The challenge, for observers and policymakers alike, is not to choose between these narratives, but to recognize that they are inseparable.