Review of Timothy Brook's Collaboration

In the most recent issue of The Journal of Asian Studies there is a review of Timothy Brook‘s new work Collaboration: Japanese Agents and Local Elites in Wartime China written by Susan Glosser. I was very disappointed with this review which, except for a few conciliatory lines in the beginning of the review, was very critical of Brook’s work. While I agree with Glosser on one or two points, I found her to be far too harsh, sometimes irrelevant (she complains that he does not offer a glossary with the Chinese names of all the organizations mentioned, but they can be found under the index entry for every organization) and in several instances clearly wrong in her assessment of the book, which I believe is a truly excellent contribution to the scholarship on Chinese collaboration during the occupation.

Timothy Brook’s work is a careful look at the issues surrounding Chinese wartime collaboration through a close examination of a number of case studies from the Yangtze delta. With the exception of some work I have read in Japanese and some coming out of Taiwan, this is the most detailed source based research I have seen of this kind to date.

Here I just want to contest three points in Glosser’s critique of Brook’s work that I think particularly unfair. She argues that 1) Brook doesn’t discuss the “problem of generalizing from one city to another.” 2) She complains about Brook’s allegedly unproblematized use of the word “pacification” (such as in referring to Japan’s “pacification teams.”) 3) Glosser spends almost a third of the review critiquing Brook’s “desire to avoid moral judgments” and his allegedly “neutral stance” on issue of Chinese collaboration.

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到处有小龙*

Via Reason, an article on the new statue of Bruce Lee that has been put up in Bosnia.
The basic idea was the that organizers wanted to be postmodern and subvert traditional ideas of monumentality, but also that they wanted to embrace these ideas and come up with a symbol that has nothing to any local group or history. One organizer described Bruce Lee as “far [enough] away from us that nobody can ask what he did during World War II” and “part of our idea of universal justice—that the good guys can win.”

Divorcing yourself from the local is of course not what monuments are supposed to do, but I thought the story was cute and yet another example of the universalizing of Asian culture.

* With apoligoies to Elvis, who is also everywhere

Moral Panic

Tim Burke has been blogging on moral panics in the context of oral sex, rape, and children’s television. Reading his stuff I was struck by the most famous case of Moral Panic in Chinese history, the sorcery scare of 1768, as studied by Phillip Kuhn.

The actual case was one of sorcerers perhaps cutting off the queues of Chinese men and using them to take control of their souls. Kuhn points out that it is not clear if queue cutting happened at all, and it was in any case not as widespread as the emperor feared it was. The Qianlong emperor took it seriously, however, in part because the queue was seen as a locus of self-ness and his subjects took their loss seriously. More importantly, the queue was a symbol of loyalty to the Manchu dynasty, and anything involving cutting it off smacked of sedition.

Kuhn suggests that there was another cause for the scope of the campaign, the Emperor’s desire to break out of the confines of regular bureaucratic politics. The problem of Chinese emperors being constrained by their bureaucracies is not a new concept in scholarship and was not new to the emperors, who had been struggling with this problem for a long time. As Kuhn points out, “bureaucratic monarchy” is an oxymoron. To the extent that the state is bureaucratic what room is there for a monarch? Qianlong took advantage of the sorcery crisis to force his officials out of their ordinary routines and break out of the confines of the normal bureaucratic relationship.Continue reading →

Chasing Emperors

Thumbnail Dragon Pin Thumbnail Dragon Pin Backing

My wife found this pin in her collection, and has no recollection of how we got it. I did a little digging and found that the “Civil Air Patrol” was an airline which operated out of China — mainland and Taiwan — from 1946 to at least the mid 1960s. It was founded by Claire L Chennault and Whiting Willauer and purchased by the CIA in 1950. This pin was a souvenir item. The text on the backing reads

This is one of the famous Oriental symbols of CAT (Civil Air Transport)..the five-toed dragon. In olden days only the Emperor could wear this symbol; those of lesser rank wore dragons with fewer toes. We like to think that all of our passengers on CAT’s colorful Mandarin Jet — truly a flying Oriental palace — receive hospitality and cordiality beffitting an Emperor and his Lady.

Wonderful bit of orientalist marketing, I think. My wife’s family was in Asia in the late 1960s, so it’s possible that they might have traveled via CAT at some point.

The other chase: I’m using Ray Huang’s 1587: A Year of No Significance; the Ming Dynasty in Decline as the final text in my China to 1600 course, but I would really like to have a timeline to go with the book. The cast of characters and back-and-forth narrative is a bit confusing, honestly, and so I’d like a dramatis personae and chronology. Obviously, I’ve been looking on the web, but haven’t found anything. If anyone knows of a good source, and would like to share, I (and my students) would be deeply grateful. If I don’t hear of anything, I’m going to have to produce my own….

Elsewhere: Andrew Meyer is comparing China today to the Qing dynasty of a century ago: tottering, on the verge of vast social and economic changes, but without a strong reformist clique to take control. I like his analysis of China today, and I’ve got no quibble with his description of China at the end of the Qing, but I think he doesn’t take his own point — that China has a long history of extended fin de dynasty crisis eras — seriously enough. I have a sneaky suspicion, actually, that a better analogy might be to China two centuries ago: weak popular support for the monarchy/party, while the government tries to reassert increasingly irrelevant moral authority; growing but uneven economy; rising integration and tensions with international markets and diplomacy; increasing awareness of technological differentials but unwillingness to acknowledge power differentials…. maybe. Will Microsoft or Starbucks be the new opium?

Oracle Bones

In Peter Hessler’s Oracle Bones: A Journey Between China’s Past and Present* I found the story of Xu Chaolong.(p.194) I found it interesting because of what it says about the current role of history and scholarship in China.

Xu is from Sichuan and got a degree in archeology from Sichuan University before going on to do graduate work at Kyoto. He now lives in Japan with his Japanese wife, and publishes his research on Chinese archeology exclusively in Japanese. He supports himself in by working for a Japanese cell-phone company.Continue reading →

Menzies Continued

It has been suggested to me that it may be a good time to begin a new discussion of the original Menzies topic, which was first posted in January and has now garnered 30 comments.  I will therefore begin one with a comment I posted yesterday.  (The original discussion, started by Jonathan Dresner, can be viewed here.)

As my comment is in response to one by Gunnar Thompson, PhD, I will post the beginning of his observations here, the full text may be viewed through the link above.  He writes:

“I have been studying early voyages to the New World for the past 30 years with a primary foucus on ancient maps for the past 15. When I first learned about the Chinese Admiral Zheng He nearly 17 years ago, I was struck by the enormous resources that were available to the leader of the Chinese navy, the enormous ships, the tens of thousands of mariners and laborers involved in the logistics behind the seven expeditions between China, the Middle East, and Africa. It seemed to me that anybody with those kinds of resources, especially when you consider the cooperation of the Japanese, the Koreans, and the Muslims (who arguably had the best astronomers in the world) should have been able to explore the Americas and to make a map. So, I was never burdened with the doctrinaire belief that “no Chinese Map of the World could possibly exist.”

Reading Dr. Thompson’s post, I can’t help but make the following observation. Far from being “burdened with the doctrinaire belief that ‘no Chinese Map of the World could possibly exist,’” I think I can speak for most of my colleagues in the field of Chinese history when I say that a). scholars have a full appreciation of the development of Chinese science and technology before the modern era, and b). historians of China would be, in principle, delighted to discover conclusive evidence that Ming voyages reached America (what scholar doesn’t take pride in the achievements of the place and time they study?). Furthermore, as press coverage and the sale of Mr. Menzies’s book has demonstrated, most journalists and their readers are by no means burdened with such knee-jerk ‘doctrinaire’ beliefs. However, I can only concur with the views of a Chinese scholar, quoted in one of the relevant H-Asia postings, that promoting an unsubstantiated claim will ultimately only harm the field, as well as popular views of past Chinese achievements. I am quite happy to admit that I hesitate to accept extreme hypotheses based on scant proof, but not that I am impelled by ‘dogma’ to dispute that American was discovered by someone other than Columbus. This strikes me as the standard straw-man argument of those pitching far-fetched ideas.

What concerns me about Dr. Thompson’s argument (and Menzies’ book) is the degree to which European evidence is advanced to support their claims. It would not be impossible, let me hasten to add, for knowledge from Ming China to reach Europe even before the arrival in China of the Portuguese, through the channel of indirect trade. What is patently odd, however, is that evidence for a Chinese voyage should circulate more widely in Europe than in China – no authoritative Chinese source about the Zheng He voyages supports such claims (despite several accounts of his voyages, some first-hand, surviving charts detailing his route, and coverage in numerous official and non-official compilations). The lack of Chinese evidence has led most serious scholars of Chinese history, within and without China, to dismiss these claims. (Parenthetically, the lack of corroborating Chinese evidence also seems like the best reason to dismiss the “Mo Map,” the appearance of which can only be labeled extremely convenient.) If we are to adopt Dr. Thompson’s course and pit en bloc dogmatic mainstream scholars against far-sighted theorists, let me strike a blow for the former and say that I find it curious that men who read no Chinese can see more clearly that Zheng He discovered America than masterful (and patriotic) Chinese scholars of Ming history who have every reason to support the notion, and only their scholarly conscience to restrain them.

I have not read Menzies’ book. I picked it up when it came out, intrigued. I flipped through the back matter, and came upon a line in which he adduced as evidence in support of his claims a similarity between “Chile” and the Chinese place-name Zhili 直隸 (given there, I believe, in Wade-Giles romanization as Chih-li). I put it down, and have not picked it up again. Similarly, I had sufficient immediate doubt about the content of Mr. Mo’s supposed 18th-century map (in addition to the more comprehensive arguments of other scholars) to prevent me from devoting days to its minute study. This is not to belittle the issue. The interest stimulated by the Menzies theory and its debate has been considerable, and it is the duty of historians to comment on the reliability of information passing through the public realm. I imagine that evolutionary biologists did not take pleasure in reading through the pronouncements of Kansas school board members. Some, however, took the trouble to rebut them out of a sense of their public duty as scholars. In the same vein I salute my colleagues in history who have the patience to spend weeks carefully rebutting claims from which they can derive no edification. The interest of this topic to the public makes it, and its debate, worthwhile.

At the same time, I feel constrained as a student of history to add that ultimately it matters little whether Zheng He reached America or not. From the perspective of Chinese history, scholars have long dealt with the conundrum that the Ming government initiated direct contact with India and the Arab world, places richer and more alluring than the Americas, and yet finally relinquished those contacts along with their maritime power. This is a real and important issue in Chinese history. Even if Zheng He indeed reached America and failed to follow this up, that would add little to the larger issue – already well noted by historians of China – of the puzzling relationship between the early Ming government and maritime power. When we compound this with the fact that Zheng He’s discovery of America, supposing it happened, had virtually no impact on his contemporaries or later residents of China, we can hardly describe Zheng He’s discovery of America as a crucial issue in Chinese history.

Nor world history. The real importance of Columbus’ voyages is that they were followed up. The settlement of America, the destruction of native American cultures, the boost the exploitation of American resources may have given to European powers and their colonial projects, the impact of American silver on world currency markets, and the role of North and South America in later world history, these are some of the reasons the early European voyages of discovery are of great historical importance. Columbus’ voyage is significant not as a single feat, but as an early link in a chain of events. The debate over whether Zheng He reached America is a fascinating subject, and I follow the issue closely, but I don’t think it can be ranked among the major issues of Chinese or world history.
 

China at war

Via Gusts of Popular Feeling I found this site by John Dower where he uses Japanese woodblocks to teach a number of things about the Japanese history of the war period. There is a whole section on Japanese images of China and the Chinese, which are mostly what you would expect, and he connects them, correctly, I think, as attempts to break the link between China and Japan. There are only two positive images of Chinese in the collection. One is an image of Admiral Ding Juchang about to commit suicide after his fleet has been sunk.
Admiral Ding JuchangContinue reading →

Update on Masuda Sensei

A brief update on the case of Masuda Miyako, the Tokyo middle school teacher who was suspended for having her pupils write a letter of apology addressed to South Korean president, Roh Moo-hyun. According to the Hangyoreh newspaper yesterday it seems that she has now been sacked. The grounds appear to be that she has not reconsidered her actions and is ‘unfit’ to be employed as a civil servant, although she has not lost her teacher’s licence.

She responded: “Japan is said to be a democratic country, but in fact, although it doesn’t employ blatant violence, it is nevertheless no different to a totalitarian state.” She also says that she will continue to fight her dismissal.

What is a professor?

The importation of new professions into China has always been something that has interested me a great deal. Perhaps the most interesting of these is academics, one because they are so fascinating in general and because the transfer of that particular social form involves a lot of overlap with the way traditional Chinese scholars were supposed to behave.

A good example is Liu Wendian. He was trained as a biologist, but his best known publications on the <i>Huannanzi</i> and <i>Zhuangzi</i>, making him a philosopher, and for his writing on the histories of the Northern and Southern dynasties, making him a historian. He was best known for his lectures on <i>Dream of the Red Chamber</i>, which drew overflow crowds, and thus was in the Department of Literature at Lianda, although he does not really seem to fit modern disciplinary boundaries very well.

In fact, he seems much more like a fairly eccentric traditional scholar. He was fond of saying that there were only three and a half people who truly understood <i>Zhuangzi</i>. One was Liu, one was Zhuangzi, one another Chinese scholar and the half a Japanese scholar. A good traditional scholar might well reject the entire modern world, and to some extent Liu did. He loathed the new literature of the May Fourth period and everything to do with it. He completely rejected bourgeois concerns like showing up for class. Presumably he did not keep office hours. He also rejected at least some of his duties as a good Chinese nationalist, as he regarded his wartime move to Yunnan as a great opportunity to sample the local opium, and he spend a lot of the time he was supposed to be teaching up in the hills sampling the product.

            He was at least something of a patriot however. He taught at Lianda, which was a refugee university built around the need for resistance to Japan. During one air raid he was supposedly running for a bomb shelter when he spotted Shen Congwen, one of the leading proponents of the new literature doing the same. Supposedly informed Shen that “I am running to preserve the National Essence. The students are running to preserve the promise of the next generation. But why the hell are you running?” At the very least he fit himself into the narrative of the nation, even though he denied that the May Fourth types were part of it. He is rather similar to Liu Dapeng in that sense.

            He also seems to have accepted the academic enterprise. When Shen Congwen came up for promotion Liu said “Chen Yinque [Lianda’s most distinguished historian] is a real professor. He is worth four hundred dollars a month. I am worth forty dollars, Zhu Ziqing is worth four dollars. But I wouldn’t give forty cents for Shen Congwen. If Shen Congwen is to be an associate professor what will I be?” I suspect that a lot of traditional scholars welcomed the modern German-style research university, not only because it provided an iron rice bowl (After Liu was booted from Lianda he moved next door to Yunnan University) but also because it provided a context for ranking and understanding their relative status.

 

All this is from John Israel’s <i>Lianda: A Chinese University in War and Revolution</i>

The Other Apprentice

Lewis Libby, The Apprentice, Graywolf Press, St. Paul Minnesota, 1996.

Libby’s novel has gotten more attention since his indictment, most of it bad. However, I have yet to see a review of this historical fiction by an historian or Japanese expert of any sort. Quite the contrary, one of the blurbs on the dust jacket — ironically, the only one that addresses the historical setting — comes from Francis “The End of History” Fukuyama. But the historical and cultural setting — rural northern Japan, 1903 — is integral to the story and to the writing. A novel by an American author set in Meiji Japan including entirely Japanese characters is a rare thing, and so my interest was piqued. Naturally, there’s a distinction to be made: this is a work of fiction, a novel intended to excite and entertain, rather than a reference work or scholarly product. But writers of fiction do not stumble onto locales or times: they choose them and they use them to serve their narrative and aesthetic ends. [spoiler alert]

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齊芳罷官 (Qi Fang removed from office)

Qi Fang, China’s contestant for the Miss Universe pagent, has resigned. (abdicated?)

QiFang

The China Daily story linked to above gives most of the sordid details. China has been borrowing a lot of the dying refuse of Western culture, and pagents seem to be part of it. It is a typical China mess where she signed a contract and it is not clear what the contract says and what exactly the law is. China daily suggests that the whole affiar shows that China needs more regulations. The thing I found interesting is that she claimed that she was unwilling to accept the level of personal control the pagent organizers were planning on exerting over her.  齊芳今天表示,“在 合同 內容中,出現了很多讓我很驚訝的條款。如:要求我將所有的親友名單及聯絡方式、背景、住址告訴他們;讓我在每天的24小時內,隨時聽候總部的調遣;安排助 理全天跟隨,包括會見親友、包括談戀愛,都有在場;給任何人通電話,都要告訴助理對方是什麼人,且通話時,不得避開助理;同時,必須接受該助理和我住在同 一間房間。” In particular she was unhappy that an attendent would be with her 24 hours a day, sleeping in the same room, being there when she talks to her parents and presumably putting a real crimp in her relationship with her boyfriend. She was unwilling to accept this lack of personal freedom and thus gave up a shot at something every little girl dreams of.

Well, of course not every little girl. I suppose that Qi Fang is just young enough that she could be part of the first generation of Chinese girls who could dream of being a beauty queen. One of the problems that western pagents have is that they are trying to portray the contestants as traditional and above all sexually inactive in a time when finding women like that has to be hard. The China version seems to be even more messed up. A careful study of the contestants (I take my blogging responsibilities seriously) reveals that they all at least look like modern women who would persumably not cotton to this frankly Maoist level of control and distrust. Were they afraid she might do something inappropriate with her mom and dad if left unattended? Or is she the bride of the nation who can’t be alone with any man, like the Imperial concubine in Dream of the Red Chamber? Maybe we will be lucky, and it will turn out that the historical window in which you can have these pagents will be so small in China it will close before it really opens.

Duelling histories? part 3

I thought I would revive this title once more and add another post to the series on recent historiographical clashes in South Korea since I recently came across another interesting example that actually fits rather nicely with some of the posts made here by Jiyul and Noja.

I came across this report on a debate on the Park Chung-hee era between Im Chi-hyŏn and Cho Hŭi-yŏn in the pages of the Donga Ilbo newspaper. Apparently the debate between the two has been going on since 2004, particularly in the pages of the journal Historical Criticism (역사비평) and the Professors’ Newspaper (교수신문).

Basically, the main protagonist, Im Chi-hyŏn, argues that Park’s rule was an example of a ‘mass dictatorship’ (대중독재), in other words, the idea that Park was able to rule by creating some degree of consent for his dictatorship. Cho counters that “the mass dictatorship theory is problemmatic because it expands the accommodating silence of the masses into a general and active agreement with the dictatorship, thus justifying it.”

Im on the other hand responds that “Cho’s understanding makes the people into heroes and demonises the dictator, creating a moralistic duality. If we are to prevent a new dictatorship from arising we need to go beyond moralistic dualism and provide a dispassionate analysis.”

Going a bit further, Cho argues that both Im Chi-hyŏn’s views and those of Yi Yŏng-hun (who edited two recent books I’ve mentioned here: 해방 전후사의 재인식 and 수량경제사로 다시 본 조선후기) are part of a general attempt to create a revisionist history that takes advantage of the current crisis of ‘democratic progressive discourse’. He argues that while Yi’s critique comes from the viewpoint of the so-called ‘New Right’, Im’s comes from a postmodernist (탈근대적) position. Funnily enough I’m planning to translate a review of 해방 전후사의 재인식 by a Korean Marxist historian whom I rate highly, who makes almost exactly the same point, titling his review: ‘A reactionary duet between the right and the postmodernists.’ When I actually have some time to do the translation I’ll be sure to make it available to readers here.

More on the debate here at the Chosun Ilbo. And something in English I found here on Im’s theory of mass dictatorship.

Popular Gusts on the turn-of-the-century Japanese spin operation

Matt of the blog ‘Gusts of Popular Feeling‘ has produced two excellent posts in a row on apologist views of Japan’s colonisation of Korea. The latest one specifically concerns Japan’s ‘cultivation of foreign apologists’ during its bid to gain control over the Korean peninsula, using what one contemporary commentator called a “carefully organized […] claque in Europe and America, especially in America.”

It’s a fascinating look at what the Japanese government were up to that raises one particular question in my mind: how did they learn so quickly to be masters of spin and successfully develop an influential lobby in the ‘West’. (Arguably, Japan still manages to benefit from a certain sort of untouchable ‘cool’ status among many people in Europe and the US, although not so much the generation that remembers WWII). I guess that one answer to this question is that the arguments used by the Japanese government and promoted by their foreign friends were the exact same ones being used by European governments about their colonial possessions or by the US about the Philippines (ie the natives can’t look after themselves and must be saved by us). It wasn’t hard to find a model for propaganda and it wasn’t hard to convince people in other parts of the world of its rightfulness as they already believed it.

Our Future, more or less

The head of the Japan Foundation (to whom I, like so many, owe thanks) has made some comments on the state and future of Japan Studies. It’s his job, after all.

Ogoura has divided up the issue into “trends” and “recommendations.” First, the Trends:

  • The transition from “area studies” to interdisciplinarity, and increasing integration of Japan into studies of global phenomena through comparative approaches.
  • The lack of economic or military threat from Japan means that there’s less policy-driven interest. There’s a corresponding shift, which Ogoura calls a separate trend, towards studies of the Middle East and China, both of whom represent significant ongoing policy issues, though the importance of the Japan-US relationship remains a valuable tool in pushing Japan studies.
  • Finally, the ever-popular academic-commoner “gap,” though pop culture studies might fill the role that dignitaries like E.O. Reischauer used to fill, bringing people into interest in Japan and to more substantial Japanese studies courses.

Then come the recommendations, mostly targeting “foundations and grant-issuing institutions” and which assume that the trends listed above are necessarily bad things….

  • Encourage young people to follow their interests into deeper study, instead of just sticking with what interests them.
  • Encourage comparative, international, transnational and other broader scholarship rather than sticking with an orthodox and limited view of Japanese Studies
  • Link university and High School programs, to broaden the minds of manga/anime-infected youth towards “real” Japanese culture and history.
  • Without a hint of irony, he then goes on to recommend “courses that focus on subjects of greater interest to young people, such as sports, fashion and food” preferably with cool show-and-tell cultural events.

As you can imagine, I’m not entirely sure that this analysis hits the mark. What do you think is the future of Japanese Studies, and what would you like to see groups like the JF putting effort into?

Earliest Chinese Writing?

People’s Daily Online is reporting that 7000 year old characters have been found which seem to be direct precedents to known Chinese characters. [via]

The symbols include rivers, animals and plants, and activities such as hunting, fishing and arable farming, as well as symbols recording events, said Han Xuhang, a research fellow with the Anhui Provincial Archaeological Research Institute.

…Xu said the symbols are carved in pairs and also in groups, which express comparatively complete meanings and show the characteristics of sentences and paragraphs.

Many of the symbols are similar to the inscriptions on bones or tortoise shells of the Shang Dynasty (1766-1122 BC) and many are still conserved in characters used by ethnic groups today, said Xu.

It’s not immediately clear to my how this is terribly important, since it’s been pretty obvious for a long time that Chinese characters evolve from pictographic origins. Still, it’s interesting.

In other news: The metal used to make Great Britain’s highest military honor, the Victoria Cross, came from China. Apparently the tradition is to use cannon captured in battle: since 1914, the metal used has been from Chinese armaments taken in the Second Opium War. These cannon were used for medals because they were not considered high quality material for recasting cannons, which is what was done with a great many other seized weapons.

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