I hate this time of year

I still hate this time of year. Though the post and comments are of generally high quality, and the introduction of actual Japanese scholars and sources into the debate is welcome, I still haven’t seen anyone address the “sufficient &#8800 necessary” issue to my satisfaction. There’s an awful lot of post hoc ergo propter hoc in the discussion, as well as an awful lot of “plausible, therefore true” fallacies on the other side.

It’s really one of the nastiest questions of historical causality: there’s counterfactuals, personality/psychological considerations, cultural considerations, long-term strategic and moral implications, the inevitability trap, and self-justification and distortion in the sources on all sides, not to mention huge gaps in the record on critical persons and times. The problem, really, is to approach it the way we do every other historical question, because to treat it as a sui generis issue (which it really looks like) can lead to the use of arguments and methods which are unacceptable in other contexts (and should be unacceptable in this one).

Like Eric Rauchway, I rarely spend a lot of time on the atomic bombings in either my World History or Japanese history courses, partially because, like him, I put it in the context of the general escalation of air war and military technology (a theme that runs through my World courses in particular) and partially because the debate is driven more by ethical than by historical questions. Otherwise we would have moved on ages ago, because the consensus position of Japanese historians reached almost a half century ago still largely stands: The combined shock of the atomic bombs and Soviet entry pushed the Japanese cabinet to the point where they could accept the unconditional end of the war, but things happened so fast that there’s really no way to tell whether one or the other would have been sufficient in isolation, nor can we know for sure whether a conditional surrender could have been reached earlier because nobody tried very hard.

Old Friends in New Contexts

One of the fun things for me about the “Rise of China” and the prominence it continues to gain in Western media, economics and culture, is reconnecting with old friends from the China side in sometimes random ways. A few months back, for example, my old friend Caroline Reeves hit the blogosphere, guest-posting at China Beat with a History of the Chinese Red Cross, (and part two). I knew that was her research topic back in grad school, but didn’t figure it would ever be part of the popular discourse.

More recently, I discovered that Carsey Yee, another good friend from the days when we read more than we graded, has started making Olympics-oriented instructional videos as a hobby.1 He’s paired up with John Weinstein as “The Two Chinese Characterstm” and they offer slightly goofy, but very clear, little clips. The first, embedded below the fold, is about the proper pronunciation of “Beijing.”2 They’re trying to get to 8,888 views before 8-8-8, and they’ve got less than two hundred to go. The second teaches some basics of cheering in Chinese, including the official two-clap-thumbs-up-two-claps-fists-up cheer approved by the Chinese government. The existence of an official cheer is, in itself, an interesting political and cultural fact: I’ll be watching to see how much it’s in evidence during the actual events.

Continue reading →


  1. At least, I think it’s a hobby. They’ve gone to a great deal of trouble, but if there’s money involved, it’s news to me.  

  2. Hint: It’s not French.  

Corruption and the Use of Technical Experts in Taiwan 1946

Corruption was one of the biggest target of complaints by supporters and sworn enemies of the Chinese republic in wartime and early postwar China. This was also true for the new Chinese regime in Taiwan after Japan’s defeat and contributed to the anger among Taiwanese who sparked the 2/28 incident in 1947. Here is one example of an investigation into corruption reported in this exchange between a council member and director of Inspection Bureau of the Department of Civil Affairs in Taiwan, May 1946:

“How many persons are in the Bureau?”

“There are 114 persons, of whom 23 are Japanese.”

“Are they employed on the basis of technical ability?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a person named Fan Chin-tang in the office?”

“No. He has resigned.”

“Is there a person named Hsieh Chin-chiu in the office?”

“No…yes.”

“What qualification has this person?”

“This person is a graduate of Chekiang University.”

“What official rank does this person hold?”

“Technical expert.”

“Is she your concubine?”

“Yes.”

“Fan Chin-tang, with thirty years’ technical experience, was dismissed. Why is his salary allotment still requested from the senior office?”

“Salaries for March have not yet been paid.”

“Yes. You requested the Finance Department to allot salaries for 186 persons, while in reality your staff consists of only 46 persons. The average salary is 1,200 old Taiwan dollars per person. Your total income from November through March has been 1,000,000 old Taiwan dollars.”1


  1. Tse-han Lai, Ramon H. Myers, and Wei Wou A Tragic Beginning: The Taiwan Uprising of February 28, 1947 (Stanford University Press, Stanford, 1991), 74. Original source is cited as Formosa: Internal Affairs, 1945-1949, Reel 1, Enclosure no. 25 (Nov. 1, 1946, report), p. 35. Bibliography gives full citation as: United States State Department Central Files. Formosa: Internal Affairs, 1945-1949. Washington, D.C.: University Publications of America, 1985. Reel 1 (“Political Affairs Reports for 1946 and January 1947”)  

Modernization or Japanization? –The Movie “Homeless Angels” 1941

I had a chance to watch a Korean movie from the colonial period, called “Homeless Angels (집없는 천사, 家なき天使),” at the Korean Film Archive (KFA) in Susek, Seoul, the other day. This movie was made by the infamously pro-Japanese director of the time, Choi Inkyu, in the late 1930s, and released in 1941. The Korean Film Archive listed it as one of 100 representative works that reflect Korean cinema, “because it is one of the very few surviving movies from the Japanese colonial era” despite the fact that the last scene (where all the children recite the pledge of allegiance to the Japanese Emperor) was propagandistic for the  Japanese imperialist cause.

The movie is about the founder of an orphanage called 香隣園 and the Korean boys who joined the orphanage. Conversations took place mostly in Korean, except for some occasional code switching with Japanese. Since Matt at GUSTS OF POPULAR FEELING has featured this movie a while ago, giving details of the plot and pictures of various scenes, I will not explain the story in detail here. I would rather like to point out the key historiographical issue in the discussions related to this movie among Korean film scholars, the KFA and GUSTS OF POPULAR FEELING.

The KFA interprets this movie as mostly a humanist story of enlightenment by Koreans for Koreans, and argues that “the propagandistic sequence is inserted irrespective of the plot and thus does not pose a substantial threat to the text’s actual subject.” In critique of this interpretation, Matt has highlighted the militaristic nature of the training that children receive, and indirect expressions that praise Japanese military advancement in the film. His interpretations suggest that children could represent Koreans in general, and that the film could leave the audience with the lesson that Koreans could have become real Japanese citizens if they had made a great effort.1 The interpretations of this movie among film scholars today are similarly divided on how to interpret the nature of this movie in the same way as the Japanese imperial authorities were bewildered.2 Is this a mere Japanese propaganda? Or is this a ‘Korean’ humanist story of rescuing and enlightening homeless children?

Let’s step back from this question for a moment. There are many elements in this movie that reflect the global trends at the time. The first thing to notice is that in the movie there is clear pastoral idealism depicted as a reaction to industrialization. The film shows the decadence and corruption of urban culture, and its contrast to the healthy, disciplined, frugal and simple rural life. The idealization of rural agricultural life is found in media and intellectual discourse, not only in Korea and Japan, but also in Britain, Germany and other places in the world since the 1900s. Secondly, the special role of children as ‘our future’ and ‘our hope,’ but at the same time, as those that adults have to lead in the right direction, can be considered as a new concept that rapidly spread around the world in the 1910s. Historians often point out Stanley Hall‘s theory of developmental child psychology as having helped create and spread such an image of children. With these two elements combined, it is not surprising to see that large-scale youth movements were launched around the world around the same time — the Boy Scouts, Hitler Jugend, Japanese Seinendan, Communist Komsomol, etc. All these youth groups praised militarized discipline and pastoral ideology. Lastly, while idealization of rural life is clearly a rejection of modern consumerism, the movie seems to imply that Western Enlightenment itself was the basis of their activities. In the movie, the founder of the orphanage gains support from his brother-in-law, a rich doctor who owns an empty Western style house, a sizable farm and a farmhouse outside of Seoul available for use. There was a quick flashback scene in which this brother-in-law was spending time with his German girlfriend there, showing that he was educated in the Western style and is familiar with European culture. More interestingly, the founder names his son and daughter ” Johann (요한)” and “Mary (마리아)” respectively, which we can’t help but see as bizarre given the setting of Japanese colonialism. Overall, the adults who help the children in this film are all “Westernized.” This close relationship between the Enlightenment thought and anti-industrial youth movements was also prevalent in other parts of the world.

Coming back to the question of how to interpret the nature of the movie “Homeless Angels,” it is clear that the film was not simply about “Koreans helping Koreans.” At the same time, the question of “to what extent it was Japanese” has become a much harder question to answer because Korea, as well as Japan, was embedded within the larger historical trends of the time. The same difficulty of separating “Japanese” colonial modernity from world-historical trends is a common problem with many of the writings about the Korean colonial history. I wish that historians had better tools to capture the interaction of all the world, regional, national, provincial, and personal contexts instead of endeavoring to fit all the elements into narrower national terms. 

 


  1. I would add the fact that the orphanage was available only for boys. It reflects the tendency of Japanese colonialism that regarded Koreans as military and labor human resources at the time. 

  2. See 강성률, 영화로 보는 우리 역사 3 [집 없는 천사]와 찬일: 계몽을 가장한 자발적 친일, 내일을 여는 역사, no. 20, 2005.6, pp.227-232  

Red Star Over Edgar Snow

Edgar Snow’s birthday is sometime this week but they can’t agree on which day it is. The 1972 obituary in the omniscient NY Times had it as July 19, 1905, as does his most careful biography1. But maybe it’s July 17 if you go with the University of Missouri Archives, which has his papers and should know. Wikipedia also has the 17th, unless somebody’s gone and changed it to the Fourth of July. 2.

Nowadays we can’t agree if Snow was a hero or a dupe — probably both — but all agree that Snow’s Red Star Over China and Pearl Buck’s The Good Earth were the two most widely read western books on China in the 1930s. They both still have some zip in them, never mind that they showed completely different Chinas. Buck portrayed a petty capitalist farm family which was age old and not in need of revolution. Snow dramatized “the intellectually sterile countryside, the dark-living peasantry….” to which the Communists, he said, “stirred to great dreams by their ‘scientific knowledge,’ ” had brought to the peasant millions, “by propaganda and by action, a new conception of the state, society, and the individual.” 3

Snow’s book went off like a bombshell. Mao’s “autobiography” was the scoop, but the redefinition of his revolution in Snow’s account was even more important. The only thing it didn’t have was sex. It was travel adventure in which Snow played the intrepid explorer going where no white man had gone before.

It was well timed: The London first edition came out in October 1937 just as the Japanese Army was advancing on Nanjing, linking the China war with the global resistance to Fascism. It sold 100,000 copies.

The book was engaged: Snow, whose Irish father implanted a hatred of the British in him, was as much excited by anti-imperialism as by social liberation. Snow had mentored students who mounted the famous December 1935 demonstrations against the Japanese and was reading up on Marxism and world affairs. He adopted Chinese patriotism.

The book was news: Mao was well enough known that Time magazine referred to him in 1935 as the “Chinese Lenin” who was so sick that he had to be carried on a stretcher. But foreign accounts of the Communist movement stressed radical land revolution and anti-foreign attacks which brought the Boxers to mind. Mao rose to the top level of leadership on the Long March by “resolving the contradiction” between radical politics and the politics of survival, that is, what American politicians call triangulating.

With Snow seated on a backless stool, Mao lounged on the stone bed, once turning down his pants to scratch for an “intruder,” and in ten evening sessions told his story. The story was no more spontaneous than were FDR’s fireside chats, but it was no less masterly for having been carefully scripted and the transcript vetted and revised by Party leaders. 4

The story was a tour de force of political spin. Mao had to be both loyal to the international communist movement and a patriot, and both dedicated to China’s long term socialist revolution and an enthusiastic member of the bourgeois United Front, a move which Stalin ordered and the logic of domestic politics drew him into. He had to address the needs of his rural constituents but keep his eye on long run revolution.Continue reading →


  1. S. Bernard Thomas, Season of High Adventure: Edgar Snow in China (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996).  

  2. http://www.umkc.edu/University_Archives/INVTRY/EPS/EPS-INTRO.HTM  

  3. Red Star Over China (Random House 1938): 106-107.  

  4. Anne-Marie Brady, Making the foreign serve China: Managing foreigners in the People’s Republic (Rowman & Littlefield, 2003): 46-48; Michael Hunt, The Genesis of Chinese Communist Foreign Policy (Columbia University Press, 1996): 236-237. David Apter and Tony Saich argue that Mao’s heroic story of Yan’an was “so powerful that it changed the way people acted, thought of themselves, and responded to others, at least for a time.” David Apter Tony Saich, Revolutionary Discourse in Mao’s Republic (Harvard University Press, 1994): 9  

Intellectual property problems

India has recently leased a nuclear attack sub from the Russians. The last thing I rented was a roto-tiller, so I am starting to think I should be shopping in cooler places. More interesting is that the Chinese have apparently also been hot to rent these boats but have not been allowed to as the Russians are worried about China’s lack of respect for intellectual property.

I find this kind of significant, since I was in Taiwan in the early 90’s when they started to crack down on IP piracy in a pretty serious way. Supposedly the reason for this was that Taiwanese companies were finding it harder and harder to get really cool technology from foreigners as it was assumed the Taiwanese would just steal everything. Taiwan was much more controlled by the state than China is today, and its economy much more dominated by a handful of firms, so I assume that things will not play out in China just like they did in Taiwan.1 Still, if you are looking for example #1 of how lack of modern IP and rule of law is hurting China, this might be it.

Via LGM, who seem to like boats


  1. Not that I would really want that anyway, as I find much of the IP system wrong-headed 

樂學書局: The Lexis Book Co.

Thanks to a tip shared by a fellow graduate student I met here yesterday, I learnt about another excellent academic bookstore here in Taipei which is, I’m told, a favorite among those “in the know.” Its owner, a legendary Ms. Huang (who was out when I visited today) is apparently well-loved among scholars all over East Asia as well as sinologists in the United States. This was confirmed by two elderly Korean philosophy professors I had a chat with, from two separate Korean universities, who said that they had been visiting and ordering books from the place for many years. One of these professors yelled the owner’s name affectionately as he disembarked the elevator and seemed very disappointed to see she wasn’t around.

樂學書局, or the “Lexis Book Co.” as it is known in English has one of the most unusual locations of any bookstore I have had the chance to visit. Whereas the 學生書局 is conveniently located on 和平東路 near the entrance of the Shida night market and 唐山書店 is just out of view in a basement locale near Taiwan National University, this book store is found in what looks like a converted residence on the 10th floor of an apartment complex on 金山南路 (Chin-shan S. Road), perhaps 10 minutes walk from Guting station.

There are no signs at the street level suggesting that this residential high rise houses a bookstore with one of the greatest collections of academic Chinese language works in Taipei. However, as I passed the security guard at the entrance to the grounds, he stopped me and immediately asked with a knowing smile, “樂學書局?” When I responded in the affirmative he told me to go to the apartment complex to the right and take the elevator to the 10th floor. The whole experience felt like that scene in the movie “The Matrix” where the band of adventurers go to visit the mystical “Oracle” in her hidden home.

Inside the apartment/bookstore every room is filled with books, including the shelves above the kitchen sink. History books can be found in its own room in the back corner. There is a great selection of both pre-modern and modern history but look through all the shelves since their semi-sorted nature can be deceiving. While almost all the books are in Chinese, there was a series of shelves with dictionaries and publications in everything from Manchu to the various languages of Central Asia. Another one of the rooms also has a good collection of the English language publications of SMC Publishing.

If you are in Taipei and have an interest in history or literature, especially, this bookstore is definitely worth the visit:

樂學書局
臺北市金山南路二段138號10樓之1
(02) 23219033
lexis at ms6.hinet.net

Between Nanjing and Chongqing

I posted a piece on Asia Media (July 10 2008) which reviews Steve MacKinnon’s new book, Wuhan, 1938: War, Refugees, and the Making of Modern China (University of California Press, 2008). Steve is a friend, but I think anyone would find this book not only a good read but also quite informative on a neglected turning point in modern China. It’s also a good introduction to the work in military history which has quietly transformed our understandings of China before 1949.

Steve makes the point that in this period the United Front worked and that the staggering losses were part of a heroic and in some ways quite successful military strategy. Chiang Kai-shek presided over an energetic coalition and had widespread support. The move upriver to Chongqing was heroic in much the same way as the Long March. It’s a page turning story, though quite horrifying in the descriptions of refugee life and battlefield realities. There’s also a section of photographs which do not merely illustrate but actually develop the themes of the text.

Asia Media, by the way, is run out of the UCLA Asia Institute, and is one of the useful sites for keeping up with breaking news in Asia. Every day they post links to dozens of stories in newspapers around Asia, but also the occasional commentary or review such as mine.

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Taiwan 1946: Asking, "What is Democracy?" – in Japanese

Over on Frog in a Well – Japan I wrote a posting about a 1946 Taiwanese pamphlet written in Japanese put out by 臺灣新生報 that may be of interest to readers of this weblog.

Like so many things I find interesting and worth posting about, I’m never quite sure which Frog blog to put it on! I do try to keep my postings to one blog though, just to keep the comment stream in one place. I wish, however, a few years ago when I started the Frog in a Well project, that I had set up this project so that it would be possible for people to view everything as one channel or feed of postings about East Asian history – not broken up into China, Korea, and Japan weblogs. Since the original goal was to have each weblog bilingual, however, with roughly half postings in each language, with categories for language to filter out languages a reader didn’t want to be exposed to, it seemed to make sense to split it. Now, with transnational and international history really taking off, I sometimes doubt the wisdom of that choice. It makes me wonder how many readers are only reading the feeds of one out of the three weblogs?

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