作者：马群 编辑：程伟 翻译：彭小梅

近年来，台海局势持续紧张。军事演训不断升级，“武力统一”的言论时常出现，战争不再只是政治讨论中的抽象概念，而逐渐成为现实社会中的焦虑来源。在这样的背景下，一个最根本的问题越来越清晰：台湾的未来，究竟应该由谁决定？我的答案很简单——应该由台湾人民自己决定。

这不仅是政治立场的问题，更是一个关于现代文明基本原则的问题。人民自决，是当今国际社会普遍认可的价值。一个社会的制度、前途与政治安排，应当建立在当地民众的意愿之上，而不是通过军事威胁或强制手段加以改变。事实上，台湾已经形成了完整而稳定的社会体系。它拥有成熟的民主制度、独立的选举机制、活跃的公民社会与开放的公共空间。2300万台湾民众，通过自己的选择，塑造了今天的台湾。这一现实，无论政治立场如何，都不应被忽视。更重要的是，现实经验已经反复证明：军事压力不会拉近两岸距离，反而会加深彼此的疏离。军机绕台、导弹威胁与战争言论，并没有削弱台湾社会的本土认同，反而强化了其安全焦虑与身份意识。换句话说，武力威胁的结果，并不是“统一更近”，而是心理距离更远。

从现实角度看，战争本身也是一个极其危险且不可控的选择。现代战争不仅意味着军事对抗，更意味着经济制裁、供应链中断、社会震荡与地区安全格局的剧烈变化。在全球高度互联的今天，一场台海冲突的代价，将远远超出任何政治目标所能承受的范围。而在军事体系仍处于持续整顿与调整的背景下，任何高强度冲突的风险都将被进一步放大。战争从来不是政治姿态，而是国家治理能力、社会承受能力与战略判断的极限考验。

然而，比地缘政治与战略分析更让我触动的，是一次非常普通的个人经历。前不久，在教会里，我与一位来自台湾的阿姨谈起台海局势。她关心的，并不是政治立场，也不是谁对谁错，而是远在台湾的家人是否安全。她反复的说：“如果真的发生战争，我的兄弟姐妹怎么办？普通老百姓怎么办？”

那一刻我意识到，“武统”这两个字，在现实生活中意味着什么——意味着一个个家庭的恐惧与不安。聊到后来，她对我说了一句话，让我久久难以忘记：“中国已经那么大了，为什么还一定要我们台湾？我们的台湾，远没有你们福建大。”这句话里没有愤怒，只有不解与无奈。她并不想对抗谁，她只是希望家人能够平安生活，希望自己的家园不要成为战争的前线，不要成为政治博弈的筹码。

在谈话中，我内心产生了一种深深的负罪感。作为一个来自中国的人，当面对她的担忧时，我感到一种难以言说的愧疚。感觉自己就是强盗，去窃取人家的一切。那一刻，我心里只有一个简单的想法，对不起这些无辜的台湾家庭，对不起那些只是想过平静生活的普通人民。

政治可以有分歧，历史可以有争议，但普通人的安全与尊严，不应该成为任何宏大叙事中的代价。任何政治目标，如果是以让普通民众长期生活在战争阴影之下为代价，在道义上都是难以成立的。

台海真正的稳定，不是来自威胁与对抗，而只能来自尊重与克制。真正持久的关系，不可能建立在强制之上，而必须建立在自愿与信任之上。支持台湾的自主与安全，并不是为了制造对立，而是基于一个最基本的现实判断：和平的前提，是尊重人民的选择。在这个问题上，立场或许不同，但有一点应该成为共识——没有任何政治目标，值得用普通人的生命与恐惧去交换。

如果有一天，台湾的普通家庭不再为战争而担忧，如果台海的未来不再建立在威胁与军演之上，那才是真正的和平开始。台湾的未来，必须由台湾人民自主选择，由台湾人民自主决定，由台湾人民自主守护。任何试图剥夺他们选择权的行为，都是对正义与自由的挑战。真正的尊重，不是口头承诺，而是让人民掌握自己家园的命运。台湾是台湾人民的台湾，我支持台湾人民自主自决！

Taiwan’s Future Belongs Only to the People of Taiwan

Abstract:Not long ago, at church, I spoke with an elderly woman from Taiwan about the situation across the Taiwan Strait. What concerned her was not political positions, nor who was right or wrong, but whether her family back in Taiwan would be safe. She repeatedly said, “If war really breaks out, what will happen to my brothers and sisters? What about ordinary people?”

Author: Ma Qun Editor: Cheng Wei Translator: Peng Xiaomei

In recent years, tensions across the Taiwan Strait have continued to escalate. Military exercises have intensified, and rhetoric about “unification by force” appears from time to time. War is no longer merely an abstract concept in political debate; it is gradually becoming a source of anxiety in real life. In this context, a fundamental question becomes increasingly clear: Who should determine Taiwan’s future? My answer is simple—Taiwan’s future should be decided by the people of Taiwan themselves.

This is not merely a matter of political stance; it is a question about the basic principles of modern civilization. The right of self-determination is a value widely recognized in today’s international community. A society’s system, future, and political arrangements should be based on the will of its people, not altered through military threats or coercive means. In fact, Taiwan has already developed a complete and stable social system. It possesses a mature democratic framework, an independent electoral mechanism, an active civil society, and an open public sphere. The 23 million people of Taiwan, through their own choices, have shaped the Taiwan of today. This reality, regardless of political position, should not be ignored. More importantly, experience has repeatedly shown that military pressure does not bring the two sides of the Strait closer; rather, it deepens their estrangement. Warplane incursions, missile threats, and rhetoric about conflict have not weakened Taiwan’s local identity. On the contrary, they have strengthened its security concerns and sense of distinct identity. In other words, the result of military intimidation is not “closer unification,” but greater psychological distance.

From a practical perspective, war itself is an extremely dangerous and uncontrollable choice. Modern warfare does not mean only military confrontation; it also means economic sanctions, supply chain disruptions, social instability, and dramatic changes in regional security structures. In today’s highly interconnected world, the cost of a conflict across the Taiwan Strait would far exceed what any political objective could justify. Moreover, amid ongoing adjustments and restructuring within the military system, the risks of any high-intensity conflict would be further amplified. War is never merely a political gesture; it is the ultimate test of a nation’s governance capacity, social resilience, and strategic judgment.

Yet beyond geopolitical analysis and strategic considerations, what moved me most was a very ordinary personal experience. Not long ago, at church, I spoke with an elderly woman from Taiwan about cross-strait tensions. What concerned her was not political positions or debates over right and wrong, but whether her family in Taiwan would be safe. She kept repeating: “If war really breaks out, what will happen to my brothers and sisters? What about ordinary people?”

At that moment, I realized what the words “unification by force” mean in real life—they mean fear and anxiety in countless families. Later in our conversation, she said something I will never forget: “China is already so big. Why must you still want our Taiwan? Our Taiwan isn’t even as large as your Fujian.” There was no anger in her words—only confusion and helplessness. She did not want to confront anyone. She simply hoped her family could live in peace. She hoped her homeland would not become the front line of war, nor a bargaining chip in political games.

During that conversation, I felt a deep sense of guilt. As someone from China, facing her worries, I felt an indescribable shame—as if I were a thief trying to take away what belonged to her. In that moment, I had only one simple thought: I am sorry to these innocent Taiwanese families. I am sorry to those ordinary people who only wish to live peaceful lives.

Politics may contain disagreements; history may contain disputes. But the safety and dignity of ordinary people should never become the price of grand narratives. Any political objective that requires ordinary citizens to live under the shadow of war is morally untenable.

True stability across the Taiwan Strait cannot come from threats or confrontation; it can only arise from respect and restraint. A truly lasting relationship cannot be built on coercion—it must be founded on voluntariness and trust. Supporting Taiwan’s autonomy and security is not about creating division; it is based on a simple and realistic judgment: peace requires respect for the people’s choice. On this issue, positions may differ, but one principle should be shared—no political objective is worth exchanging for the lives and fear of ordinary people.

If one day ordinary Taiwanese families no longer have to worry about war, if the future of the Taiwan Strait is no longer built on threats and military exercises, that will mark the true beginning of peace. Taiwan’s future must be chosen by the people of Taiwan themselves, decided by the people of Taiwan themselves, and safeguarded by the people of Taiwan themselves. Any attempt to deprive them of their right to choose is a challenge to justice and freedom. True respect is not a verbal promise; it is allowing people to hold the destiny of their homeland in their own hands. Taiwan belongs to the people of Taiwan. I support the people of Taiwan in exercising their right to self-determination.