In the modern geopolitical theater of the Taiwan Strait, the vocabulary of “unification” is wielded not as a democratic negotiation, but as an authoritarian mandate.
China consistently frames its ambitions toward Taiwan through the lens of an inevitable “reunification,” or tongyi, presenting it as the compulsory correction of a historical anomaly left behind by the Chinese Civil War.
This rhetoric has sharpened dangerously. In his Sept. 30, 2026, National Day address, Chinese leader Xi Jinping escalated Beijing’s rhetoric, vowing to “resolutely combat separatist forces advocating Taiwan independence, and oppose interference by external forces … and advance the great cause of national reunification.”
However, Taiwan fundamentally rejects this terminology. From the perspective of Taipei and the vast majority of its citizens, Taiwan has never been part of the People’s Republic of China, which was established by the Chinese Communist Party in 1949, long after Taiwan’s separate historical and political trajectory began.
Consequently, Taiwanese society views Beijing’s rhetoric not as the peaceful bringing together of a divided people, but as a historical distortion and euphemism for military annexation by a totalitarian communist regime.
A collective shield
For Taiwan, navigating this existential threat requires looking toward a future rooted in robust defense and strategic solidarity.
To prevent an authoritarian imposition of “unification,” Taipei must continue working alongside its global partners to build credible deterrence against Chinese aggression.
Preserving stability across the Western Pacific requires a structural security matrix combining agile executive diplomacy, robust legislative anchors, and deep regional burden-sharing among the United States, partners along the First Island Chain — stretching from Japan through Taiwan to the Philippines — and democratic countries worldwide.
The strength of these ties was on display on Oct. 5, when the German Institute Taipei hosted its official reception celebrating German Unity Day. High-ranking Taiwanese officials attended the gathering, which celebrated the values-based partnership between Taipei and Berlin.
A traditional Taiwanese proverb captures the essence of this regional reality: “When people are of one heart, their combined strength can break metal” (人心同，鐵石成).
While Taiwan continues to strengthen its domestic resilience and asymmetric military preparedness, its survival also depends on the interlocking strength of democratic partners. Just as fragmented elements become harder to break when aligned toward a single purpose, the shared commitment of free countries creates a structural barrier Beijing cannot easily overcome.
The geopolitical dictionary of 1990
Taiwan’s defensive struggle stands in profound contrast to how Europe resolved its own division decades ago.
Every year on Oct. 3, Germany observes Tag der Deutschen Einheit — German Unity Day. To the outside world, the holiday is frequently understood as commemorating German reunification.
Yet the distinction between these terms is not merely a quirk of translation. It represents a deeper debate over history, national identity, and the balance between remembering the past and building a democratic future.
To understand why the terminology mattered, one must look back to the frantic diplomacy of 1990. When the Berlin Wall fell on Nov. 9, 1989, language immediately became a geopolitical tool.
West German Chancellor Helmut Kohl carefully navigated the deep anxieties of global powers. The term “reunification,” or Wiedervereinigung, carried historical baggage that could evoke the restoration of a powerful unified German state in the center of Europe.
By officially framing the project as Einheit, or unity, in the domestic Unification Treaty — signed in East Berlin’s Kronprinzenpalais on Aug. 31, 1990, by negotiators Wolfgang Schauble and Gunther Krause — the state signaled a forward-looking democratic project.
This message was reinforced externally by West German Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher and East Germany’s last democratically elected prime minister, Lothar de Maiziere.
Together with the four victorious Allied powers of World War II, the two German states negotiated the landmark Two Plus Four Treaty, officially the Treaty on the Final Settlement with Respect to Germany.
Signed in Moscow on Sept. 12, 1990, the treaty granted Germany full external sovereignty and finalized its international borders, assuring the world that a united Germany sought peace rather than territorial restoration.
The price of accession
Even this democratic and consensual path did not erase internal friction. The legal mechanism used to unite the two German states remains central to debates about what followed.
Rather than invoking Article 146 of the West German Basic Law — which could have opened the way for a new constitution adopted by Germans in both East and West — Kohl’s government used Article 23.
Legally and strategically, this allowed the German Democratic Republic to dissolve its provinces and rapidly accede to West Germany’s constitutional framework while the geopolitical window for unity remained open.
Domestically, however, the rapid mechanism meant East Germany was effectively absorbed rather than merged. Consequently, a narrative emerged in the East of a Beitritt, or annexation, masquerading as partnership.
Decades later, Germany’s economic, political, and cultural institutions remain heavily shaped by Western structures.
This internal rift remains politically volatile. During his October 2026 Unity Day address in Bremen, German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier acknowledged “bitter setbacks” and warned that political demagoguery and persistent divisions continue to threaten Germany’s internal cohesion.
This German linguistic and historical tightrope was further complicated by the moral responsibilities of the state, particularly concerning Germany’s Jewish community and Holocaust memory.
The choice of Oct. 3 as the national holiday was itself a deliberate pivot away from a date that would have carried far more spontaneous joy: Nov. 9, the day the Berlin Wall opened.
Nov. 9 was also the date of the 1938 November Pogroms, often known internationally as Kristallnacht, when the Nazi regime orchestrated a violent wave of anti-Jewish attacks across Germany.
To celebrate a triumphant national awakening on the anniversary of one of the darkest chapters in Jewish history was deemed unacceptable.
By choosing Oct. 3 — the date the Unification Treaty took legal effect — Germany codified an important principle: national celebration would not overwrite historical memory.
For the Jewish community, the preference for “unity” over “reunification” also offered a psychological safeguard. “Unity” implied a constitutional commitment to democratic values, human rights, and pluralism.
“Reunification,” by contrast, could hint at the restoration of a historical German state.
Conclusion
This divergence underscores the irreconcilability of the German and Chinese models.
If China were to impose annexation on Taiwan, it would not be an act equivalent to Germany’s democratic unification. Taiwan’s political system, public opinion, and right to self-determination would be overridden rather than incorporated through consent.
Words such as “unity,” “unification,” and “reunification” are never politically neutral.
In the German context, the language of unity exists within an ongoing effort to bridge cultural, economic, and political divides inside a democratic constitutional order. Beijing’s use of “reunification,” by contrast, asserts a predetermined political outcome for a society it does not govern.
Germany’s history demonstrates that bringing divided societies together requires legal legitimacy, democratic consent, and international agreement.
By rejecting Beijing’s imposed baseline of “reunification,” Taiwan insists on the essential principle underlying any legitimate political union: genuine unity cannot be created through coercion.
