The One Diplomat Rocking the Boat
You wouldn’t think a foreign diplomat would directly undermine their own president’s grand diplomatic strategy, but that’s exactly what’s happening in Hong Kong right now. Trump has made summit-level diplomacy with China his priority—calling President Xi Jinping multiple times this year to ease tensions and discuss key issues like trade and TikTok.
Under this high-level engagement, US-China relations have been stabilizing. Trump even announced plans to meet Xi again at the upcoming APEC summit in South Korea and hinted at future reciprocal visits. It’s the kind of positive momentum no one wants to see wrecked—yet that’s the risk with the current US Consul General in Hong Kong.
In August 2025, Julie Eadeh took over as US Consul General in Hong Kong and Macau. She’s no rookie—she was the political chief at the US Consulate during the chaotic 2019 protests. Back then, she was snapped meeting Nathan Law and Joshua Wong in Admiralty, and later that same day chatting with opposition heavyweights like Alan Leong, Martin Lee, and Anson Chan at the American Club.
No wonder Chinese media dubbed her “the subversion expert.”
The US would never stand for foreign meddling like this. Earlier this year, Immigration and Customs Enforcement arrested a Columbia University student with a green card who supported Hamas, revoked his green card, and ordered his deportation.
Imagine if China’s Ambassador in the US was caught supporting such a figure. Would Trump let that slide? Of course not.
Old Habits Die Hard: Julie Eadeh’s Provocations
Fast forward six years, and US-China relations have shifted to dialogue instead of confrontation. But Julie Eadeh seems stuck in the past. She’s throwing reception after reception with major opposition figures in Hong Kong— prominent anti-government players Anson Chan and Emily Lau to official events.
This isn’t by accident; it’s provocation.
On arrival, Eadeh pulled out the usual diplomatic charm, saying she’d engage with all sectors of Hong Kong society. But in reality, she’s normalizing foreign interference, portraying calls for a color revolution as simple democracy promotion.
This is just the first chapter of a renewed foreign meddling playbook in Hong Kong—testing the limits of the city’s national security laws. If left unchecked, she’ll write chapters two and three and more.
Some might argue, why ban the US Consulate from meeting local figures? Well, Chinese diplomats in the US face the opposite problem—many Americans who once met them now avoid contact, fearing the Trump administration’s repercussions.
Imagine if Ambassador Xie Feng threw a party inviting Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, or even Antifa members -- would Trump be okay with that?
Playing With Fire
Julie Eadeh’s risky political games may not be ordered by Trump himself—he’s got bigger geopolitical fish to fry—but if she crosses a line, triggers Beijing’s fierce reaction, and wrecks the narrative of strong US-China leadership ties, she’ll have to face the consequences.
At the end of the day, American diplomats shouldn’t work outside the president’s strategy.
Hong Kong’s stability didn’t come easy. The city is now at its best, and foreign forces trying to mess with it won’t succeed.
Lo Wing-hung
Bastille Commentary
** 博客文章文責自負,不代表本公司立場 **
The catastrophic collapse of the barrier lake in Hualien, Taiwan, was a disaster. On the surface, it looked like a natural event. But let's be clear: it was not. This was an entirely man-made tragedy, a textbook case of indecision and a complete failure to act.
When Super Typhoon Ragasa slammed into Asia, Taiwan bore the brunt of the damage. Fifteen people died, most of them in Guangfu Township in Hualien. Why? A local barrier lake couldn't withstand the hurricane-force rains and collapsed, unleashing a torrent of water that flooded the township. Many residents were trapped in their homes; a number of them never made it out alive.
A Ticking Time Bomb Ignored
The story of the Mataian barrier lake begins with the massive earthquake that struck Taiwan on April 3 last year. That quake caused landslides and destabilized soil and rock across Hualien. Fast forward to this July, the remnants of Typhoon Wipha made it even worse by dumping torrential rain on the region.
This triggered another huge collapse in the forests upstream of the Mataian River. By July 21, a 200-meter-high barrier dam had formed, blocking the river and creating a gigantic basin on the mountainside. This wasn't just a puddle; it was a ticking time bomb holding a reservoir's worth of water—a staggering 91 million cubic meters at full capacity.
Dealing with a natural hazard of this scale was obviously too much for the Hualien County Government alone. So, after the barrier lake formed, Taiwan's agricultural department stepped in, holding meeting after meeting with other agencies. They floated several ideas to release the water—digging to lower the dam's crest, blasting it open, siphoning the water—but shot down every single one as "unworkable." Stuck in a loop of indecision, they did nothing.
And so, when Typhoon Ragasa hit, the inevitable happened. Heavy rain poured again into the already full lake. And the results: the dam burst, sending a tsunami-like wall of water surging downstream and devastating Guangfu Township.
Global Examples of Decisive Action
As the Taiwanese Facebook account "SpecialForceDB" pointed out, there are plenty of examples from around the world showing how this kind of crisis should be handled.
Take the United States, for example. Back in August 1959, a 7.3 magnitude earthquake in Montana triggered a massive landslide that dammed the Madison River, creating a barrier lake. The US Army Corps of Engineers knew explosives were too risky; the dam was too large and the geology too unstable. A blast could cause an even bigger, uncontrolled flood.
Instead, they chose the slower but safer route: mechanical excavation. It took them a month, but they successfully carved a 15-meter-deep, 76-meter-wide spillway to safely release the water.
Then there's the case from Tajikistan in Central Asia. In April 1964, a huge landslide in the Zarafshan River valley created a massive barrier lake with a dam up to 220 meters high. If that dam had burst, the historic city of Samarkand and its hundreds of thousands of residents would have been wiped out.
Fortunately, Tajikistan was part of the Soviet Union back then, and Moscow acted decisively. The Soviet government combined blasting with mechanical digging, using 250 tons of explosives to clear debris and carve a 40-50 meter deep channel. This controlled release averted a catastrophe.
And of course, we have the example from Wenchuan, Sichuan, in May 2008. A powerful earthquake created 257 barrier lakes all at once, with the largest—Tangjiashan—holding a horrific 250 million cubic meters of water and threatening over a million people in cities downstream.
The Chinese government had to act fast, and it did. It deployed military and engineering teams who relied mainly on heavy machinery for excavation, using small, targeted blasts only to clear stubborn rock. To get the equipment there, China used Mi-26 heavy-lift helicopters to fly in 80 bulldozers and excavators. They carved a massive spillway hundreds of meters long, and by June 10, the water was being safely discharged, ending the crisis before it could erupt.
These three examples from the US, the Soviet Union, and China provide a clear playbook. If the geology is stable, you can use large-scale blasting. If it's unstable, you use heavy machinery to dig. And if you can't get heavy machinery to the site, you combine small-scale blasting with manual labor. The solutions are all there.
Excuses, Inaction, and Deadly Consequences
Sure, dealing with the Mataian barrier lake was difficult. It was in a remote area with no roads, so getting heavy machinery there wasn't easy. But the lake formed in July—they had two full months to act. If a decision had been made swiftly, Taiwan could have borrowed heavy-lift helicopters from mainland China or elsewhere to fly in the equipment, just like China did in Wenchuan.
Let’s compare: mainland China took just 29 days to resolve the Tangjiashan crisis, a lake nearly three times larger than Mataian. Taiwan, on the other hand, dithered for two months and three days and accomplished nothing.
And if all else failed? If their high-level meetings produced nothing? They could have done the simplest thing of all: send in the troops. Taiwan has 189,000 active-duty soldiers. They could have dug that spillway by hand. But even that was too much to ask. Instead, with a super typhoon bearing down, the authorities—seemingly oblivious—failed to even order an evacuation of Guangfu Township.
This wasn't a natural disaster. It was a man-made catastrophe, born from incompetence. What else could you possibly call it?
Politics Over People
The Taiwanese authorities were paralyzed by indecision, shooting down every proposed solution while offering no alternatives of their own. Politics was clearly at play. Hualien County is run by the KMT, and while the ruling DPP government might not have intentionally blocked efforts, they certainly didn't make it a priority.
The result? The Executive Yuan let its departments drag their feet until it was too late. This political infighting cost the residents of Guangfu Township their lives. For all of Taiwan's boasting about its "advanced" system, the disastrous results of its governance speak for themselves.
Lo Wing-hung
