這類說法的形成，主要來自中國大陸網路輿論對國民黨在兩岸互動角色上的長期不滿與失望，並非官方正式定調，而是一種情緒化、標籤化的民間政治語言。其背後牽涉歷史脈絡、現實政治落差，以及近年大陸民意結構的轉變，逐漸累積成對國民黨極為負面的敘事。

所謂「求和」「要飯」的說法，最早在2020年前後被大規模放大。當年海峽論壇期間，大陸央視主持人李紅在節目中以「來大陸求和」形容國民黨代表團，引發國民黨方面強烈反彈並取消後續行程。這一事件在大陸網路上迅速發酵，部分網民開始將國民黨描繪成在台灣選舉中屢戰屢敗、失去執政能力，卻仍頻繁赴陸，希望透過兩岸交流換取政治存在感或經濟資源的政黨。由於國民黨同時又不願在「統一」等核心議題上做出明確表態，這種「想要好處、卻不肯表態站隊」的形象，被極端化地簡化為「來要飯」。

「詐騙集團」的指控，則是一種更具政治隱喻性的辱罵，並非指實際的詐騙犯罪，而是對其政治行為的不信任。這種說法主要建立在兩個印象之上。其一，是立場反覆與模糊。部分大陸網民認為國民黨一方面接受惠台政策、交流紅利與象徵性尊重，另一方面回到台灣後，基於選票考量又刻意淡化甚至回避統一論述，讓人感覺是在「騙取」大陸的善意與資源。其二，是政治能力的質疑。這類輿論認為國民黨長期對外宣稱自己能穩定兩岸、避免衝突，實際上卻在台灣內部節節敗退，既無法重新執政，也無力有效制衡民進黨，導致其「穩定兩岸」的承諾被視為空話，進而被嘲諷為政治上的「詐騙者」。

進入2025年底至2026年初，部分新事件又進一步加深這種負面觀感。跨國犯罪組織「太子集團」洗錢案曝光後，有媒體報導指稱，個別國民黨相關人士曾在過去協助該集團成員入境或提供便利。儘管這類指控是否成立仍需司法釐清，但在大陸網路輿論場中，相關細節往往被迅速政治化，與既有的「不可靠」「灰色地帶操作」印象結合，進一步強化「詐騙」「不法」等負面標籤，形成一種情緒先於事實的集體認知。

此外，大陸網路生態本身的變化也是重要背景。近年來，「小粉紅」與主張武力統一的強硬派聲量明顯上升，對於任何主張「維持現狀」「一中各表」或模糊路線的台灣政治力量，都表現出高度不耐。他們普遍認為國民黨早已不是推動統一的力量，而是「拖延統一進程」的既得利益者，甚至將其視為「暗獨」或「獨台」。在這種情緒氛圍下，「要飯」一詞被用來諷刺國民黨既依賴大陸讓利，又不願承擔政治代價的中間路線。

整體而言，這些極端用語並不代表中國大陸官方立場，而是網路輿論中對國民黨角色定位失衡的一種情緒宣洩。在許多大陸網民眼中，國民黨已從過去被期待的「兩岸橋樑」或「統一推動者」，轉變為一個「只拿紅利、不談方向」，在台灣政壇失勢後仍試圖扮演中介角色的政治團體。這種期待落差與現實不符，最終透過網路語言，演變成帶有羞辱性與去正當化色彩的標籤攻擊。

The emergence of such claims mainly stems from negative sentiment within mainland Chinese online discourse toward the Kuomintang’s (KMT) role in cross-strait interactions. This is not an official stance, but rather an emotional, label-driven form of popular political rhetoric. Behind it lies a combination of historical context, present-day political realities, and shifts in mainland public opinion that have gradually accumulated into a highly unfavorable narrative about the KMT.

The rhetoric of “seeking peace” or “begging” was first amplified on a large scale around 2020. During that year’s Straits Forum, a host on China Central Television, Li Hong, described the KMT delegation as having come to the mainland “to seek peace,” prompting strong dissatisfaction from the KMT and the cancellation of subsequent activities. The incident quickly went viral online in mainland China. Some netizens began portraying the KMT as a party that repeatedly loses elections in Taiwan and has lost its governing capacity, yet continues to travel frequently to the mainland in hopes of gaining political leverage or economic benefits through cross-strait exchanges. Because the KMT simultaneously avoids making clear commitments on core issues such as unification, this image of “wanting benefits without taking a clear stand” was radically simplified into the derisive label of “begging.”

The accusation of being a “scam syndicate” is a more metaphorical political insult rather than an allegation of actual criminal fraud. It is rooted mainly in two perceptions. First is the belief that the KMT’s stance is inconsistent and ambiguous. Some mainland netizens argue that the KMT enjoys preferential cross-strait policies, exchange opportunities, and symbolic goodwill from the mainland, yet once back in Taiwan, it downplays or avoids discussion of unification for electoral reasons. This is seen as “deceiving” the mainland into providing resources and trust. Second is the perception of political incompetence. According to this view, the KMT long claims it can stabilize cross-strait relations and prevent conflict, but in reality continues to suffer electoral defeats in Taiwan, failing both to return to power and to effectively check the Democratic Progressive Party. As a result, its promise of “stabilizing cross-strait relations” is regarded as empty rhetoric, leading some extreme commentators to mock it as a political “fraud.”

From late 2025 to early 2026, several new incidents further reinforced this negative impression. After the exposure of a money-laundering case involving the transnational criminal organization known as the “Prince Group,” media reports alleged that certain KMT-affiliated individuals had previously assisted members of the group in entering Taiwan or provided them with facilitation. Although the veracity of these claims still requires judicial clarification, within the mainland online environment such details were rapidly politicized. They were merged with preexisting impressions of unreliability and gray-area dealings, further strengthening labels such as “scam” and “illegality,” creating a collective perception driven more by emotion than by verified facts.

Changes in the mainland online ecosystem itself also form an important backdrop. In recent years, the voices of nationalist “Little Pink” netizens and advocates of military unification have grown markedly stronger. These groups show little patience for Taiwanese political forces that promote “maintaining the status quo” or “different interpretations of one China.” In their view, the KMT is no longer a force advancing unification, but rather a beneficiary of delay who obstructs the process. Some even regard it as practicing “covert independence” or “Taiwan-centered separatism.” Within this emotional climate, the term “begging” is used sarcastically to criticize what they see as the KMT’s dependence on mainland concessions without a willingness to pay corresponding political costs.

In summary, such harsh language does not represent the official position of the mainland authorities. Instead, it reflects an outpouring of dissatisfaction among segments of mainland online opinion toward the KMT’s perceived imbalance in its cross-strait role. In the eyes of many mainland netizens, the KMT has shifted from being an expected “bridge across the strait” or a “driver of unification” to a party that “takes benefits without discussing direction,” and that continues to position itself as an intermediary even after losing ground in Taiwan’s political arena. This gap between expectation and reality has ultimately been translated, through online discourse, into stigmatizing and delegitimizing labels.