Wages

Just a nugget of information I thought I might throw out to our readers, all comments or reflections are welcome:

It seems that unskilled wage labourers in late Chosŏn Seoul were paid a real wage at a similar level to their contemporaries in London and Amsterdam (about 140-160kg of rice per month). The workers of Paris, Vienna and Istanbul, by contrast, were remunerated at about half of that level. Of course, if this (highly approximate) comparison of wages is at all accurate, the obvious question is why this was the case. Perhaps a shortage of labour in Chosŏn Seoul? Or a result of the fact that most labourers were employed by the state, where paternalistic, Confucian ideas of moral economy prevented it from squeezing workers too much?

This information comes from an article in the collection edited by Lee Young-hoon: 수량경제사로 다시 본 조선후기 [Re-examining Late Chosŏn through Quantitive Economic History]. The article, entitled 서울의 숙련 및 미수련 노동자의 임금, 1600-1909 [Wages of skilled and unskilled labourers in Seoul, 1600-1909], is by Pak I-t’aek. You can find the note on comparative wages on page 85.

Actually, this book as a whole is one that I cannot recommend highly enough for anyone who is interested in Korean economic history (although I suppose that you have to be the sort of historian – like me – who gets more excited by seeing lots of charts and tables than by reading about battles or revolutions). When it came out in autumn 2004 it seems to have generated quite a bit of interest in the Korean press. One article from Yonhap highlighted the fact that the book reveals that the Korean peninsula was already heavily deforested in the nineteenth century (“한반도 산림은 이미 19세기에 벌거숭이”). An interview with Lee Young-hoon in Chosun Ilbo, on the other hand, focused on his opinion that by the nineteenth century the Chosŏn dynasty was collapsing of its own accord (“19세기 朝鮮은 체력 다해 스스로 무너졌다”). All this attention probably shows just how important this book is to Korean historiography, but I think it’s just the beginning of a new wave of history writing of this sort.

새해 복 많이 받으세요!

Chinese Philology Meets Canadian Politics

This is not history-related per se, nor indeed more than a triviality, but I am spending a few weeks in Vancouver (now in the midst of the Canadian election) and was interested to see that the proper interpretation of a Chinese expression has become a minor election issue. To summarize, a candidate for the governing Liberal Party described the leader of the New Democratic Party as having a “boiled dog’s head smile” (煮熟狗頭般齜牙咧嘴). What exactly this means, and the degree to which it should be construed as offensive, have both become points of debate (see English-language coverage in the Globe & Mail [http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/ArticleNews/TPStory/LAC/20051230/ELXNLAYT30/TPNational/Canada] and Chinese language coverage in the World Journal, a Taiwanese newspaper chain with a local BC branch [http://www.worldjournal.com/wj-va-news.php?nt_seq_id=1289053; http://www.worldjournal.com/wj-va-news.php?nt_seq_id=1289054]). It is interesting to note that neither the man who proferred this expression nor his target are Chinese, and so both had to invoke different (conflicting) Chinese authorities to defend their positions. As an additional tie-in, this comment was first reported on a blog, a fact that has not escaped Canadian election-related bloggers (http://bdoskoch.electionblog.ctv.ca/default.asp?item=123729). The larger issues – if there are any – can be debated by the readers of this blog, but I dare say this is one of the few times an expert could pontificate about the subtleties of Cantonese folk-sayings on a current events show. I will leave you with the thought of politico concerned, David Emerson:
“I really value many Chinese expressions because they’re very creative ways of articulating things.”

It’s not an institution if it doesn’t have rules….

Via World Press Review, an interesting account of undercurrents of opposition to changing the Imperial Household Law to allow female emperors or emperors descended through females. The great-grandson of Emperor Meiji wants to reconstitute several lines of descent that were separated from the Imperial House after WWII, instead of allowing women to occupy the throne.

民族日報事件と在日

先日12月17日、民族日報事件によって死刑に処せられたチョ・ヨンス氏の追悼に行ってきました。民族日報事件を簡単に説明しますと、この事件は韓国の5・16軍事クーデター直後の革新勢力に対する一斉検挙のなかで、民族日報社の幹部が軍事政権の「革命裁判部」により重刑に処せられた事件です。民族日報は1961年1月に創設され、進歩的な論調で人気を博していましたが、軍事政権によって「特殊犯罪処罰に関する特別法」を適用され、幹部三人が死刑判決を受け、そのうちチョ・ヨンス一人に死刑が執行されました。
この事件がなぜ在日に関係あるかと私が考えたかといえば、チョ・ヨンスは日本に長期間滞在しており、その際に私の知り合いと生活をともにしていたということがあります。そこで現在、日本の韓学同出身の人々が中心となり「民族日報連帯フォーラム」という組織が活動しております。私もそこに参加しているのですが、在日朝鮮人が韓国史の真相究明と民主化にどのように関わっているのか、それを具体的な活動を通して見ることができます。最近、在日朝鮮人史と朝鮮半島の歴史とのかかわりを掘り出す作業が以前よりも盛んになっていると思われますが、それもその一環として見ることができます。そして在日による主体的な現在進行形の活動としても非常に興味深いことだと思います。
現在、私自身、この事件と在日のかかわりについて整理ができていないため詳しいことはお伝えできませんが、このような歴史的な局面があり、それを知ることができた体験として重要だと考え、報告させていただきました。

Seasonal treat for Koreanists

It has been brought to my attention that historians of premodern Korea have a very special Christmas treat in the form of the annals of the Chosŏn Dynasty (Chosŏn Wangjo Sillok / 朝鮮王朝實錄) now available on the internet, in its entirety. This must be one of the largest ‘books’ in human history and it is now available online in both original hanmun and modern Korean translation. And it’s keyword searchable too.

What good is ritual?

Rites (li禮) are something that you talk about a lot when you teach Chinese history. Usually the word is translated as “ritual,” which is a pretty accurate translation but not one likely to inflame American students. For any right-thinking American “ritual” is always proceeded by the prefixes “dead” and “meaningless.” For most educated people in traditional China, especially the ru (Confucians, if you must) it was a tremendously important thing. Ritual was what the ancient kings used to bring order to the world, and it was what fathers used to mold their sons into good sons. Rulers used it to mold their ministers into proper officials, and officials used it to mold rulers into good rulers. Finagrette Confucius-The Secular as Sacred (p.9) uses the example of handshaking as a modern example. Handshaking and small talk are actually a fairly complex ritual performances that force others to behave in a civil fashion. Someone can refuse to shake your hand, but only at the expense of completely rejecting civility. Ritual properly performed gives you the power to make people behave themselves. A proper system of rituals is a social technology that creates and orderly society. (Law does the same thing, but it is less effective.)

Of course you need a good story to illustrate this, so here is one, from Nylan The Five “Confucian” Classics p.176 It is a story from Sima Qian about Liu Bang, the first Han emperor. He had been a village policeman, but in the chaos at then end of Qin he did well for himself and founded one of China’s best-known dynasties. At this point he is trying to turn his rabble of followers into an imperial court.

Liu Bang’s followers were given to drinking and brawling over their respective achievements. When in their cups, some would shout wildly and others would draw their swords and hack at the pillars [of the palace], causing the High Ancestor [that is, Liu Bang] distress over their behavior.

Shusun Tong, realizing that the emperor was becoming increasingly disgusted with the situation, persuaded the emperor [to take action]: ..”I beg to summon scholars from Lu, who can join with my disciples in drawing up court rituals.”
“Can you make them not to difficult?”
“The Five Emperors of antiquity all had different types of court music and dance: the Three Kings [of Xia, Shang, and Zhou] did not follow the same ritual….They did not merely copy their predecessors. I intend to pick a number of ancient rituals and some Qin ceremonies, to make a combination of these.”
“See what you can do,” replied the emperor. “But make it easy to learn! Keep in mind it must be the sort of thing I can perform.”

Shusun Tong then summoned some thirty-odd scholars from Lu [the home state of Confucius]…. With the more learned imperial advisors and his own disciples, numbering over a hundred men, he worked out the rituals. When they had practiced for more than a month, Shusun Tong felt that it was time for the emperor to come take a look…”I can do that all right!” exclaimed the emperor when he had watched them carry out the rituals, so he ordered all his officials to practice them so that they could be used in the New Year festivities.

In the seventh year of Han, at the completion of the Eternal Joy Palace, all the nobles and officials attended the New Year’s formal audience…During the ceremony, every single person, from the assembled nobles on down, trembled with awe and reverence. During the drinking which followed the formal audience,…no one dared to quarrel or misbehave in the least. At this, the High Ancestor announced, “Today, for the first time, I know how exalted a thing it is be an emperor. “

Drop the book and step away from the scholarship

Apparently Homeland Security is monitoring Interlibrary Loan. A UMass student was questioned for having ordered a copy of the Little Red Book. According to the story the fact that he had traveled overseas was also a tip-off. I sort of wonder where he went. Does any foreign travel count? Or do you have to go someplace specific?

I wish I could say that this type of thing surprised me, but given all the stuff that has happened in the last few years I am not. I -am- a bit surprised by the level of incompetence this shows. The Little Red Book? Not exactly how to build a dirty bomb or even single spark to start a prairie fire. Are they running computer checks on everyone who orders books by Mao, Marx, Clinton etc?

Via a Crooked Timber post on how Chinese people are using web sites to comment on Lu Xun’s In Memory of Ms. Liu Hezhen to comment on Dongzhou

danger + opportunity

This entry on pinyin.info looks at the misunderstanding of the construction of characters. This tendency – particularly among the writers of motivational/new age books it seems! – to interpret every hanzi character as imparting some kind of philosophical lesson is fascinating. I suppose it is part and parcel of the ‘Eastern Wisdom’ fetish, which also includes sanskrit tattoos.

History Carnival #22

History Carnival Button

Welcome to History Carnival #22, the final edition of 2005. I’m deeply grateful to Sharon Howard for starting this whole thing off eleven months ago, and take some pride in the only other person (besides herself, for the time being) to host this carnival twice. (oops. see comments)

In the past I’ve inflicted some odd arrangements on carnivals which I’ve hosted. This time I’ll try to be reasonably clear and straightforward, not least because I, like so many of you, am still in the middle of grading final exams and papers. Since we can all use some comic relief and light reading at this point…

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Hikokumin in Fukuoka

Asahi and Yomiuri newspapers both have reports on an October incident in a Fukuoka junior high school in which a teacher passed out copies of wartime “Red cards,” which called men up for the military draft, to students. Students had to mark the paper to indicate whether they would go or not go.

The teacher returned the card, and apparently left comments on those cards belonging to the nay-sayers to the effect that those students were 非国民 or that “Those who refuse on personal grounds are 非国民.” The word, hikokumin, is sometimes translated as “unpatriotic individual” but in fact was a much stronger term which implied that the person was a traitor. The 広辞苑 dictionary defines it as, “Someone who has not performed their duties as a citizen. A person who does actions which betrays the nation.”

It is a bit unclear what the point of the exercise was. Asahi says simply that the school was aiming to teach something about human rights (学校によると、教諭は人権学習に熱心という), while Yomiuri reports the school as saying that they simply wanted to point out that people would be called that at the time and was not intended as an insult to the students. (教諭は、戦争に行かなかったら、『非国民』と呼ばれた当時の状況を説明して令状を配った。生徒の人格を否定するつもりはなかったようだ)
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Demands of the Tonghak Rebels

Some fifteen years ago in a Journal of Korean Studies article entitled “The Conservative Character of the 1894 Tonghak Peasant Uprising” Lew Young Ick argued that the famous Tonghak Peasant Uprising of 1894 was not in fact an “anti-feudal (social) revolution” but had strong traditional and Confucian characteristics. The article focuses primarily on a discussion of the background of one of the uprising’s most important leaders, Chŏn Pongjun, and argues that 1) Chŏn consistently identifies himself as a Confucian scholar-gentry, has a Confucian background and education and cultivated ties with the highly conservative Taewŏn’gun 2) Chŏn’s writings during the rebellion uses strong traditional Confucian language and 3) Rebel documents from the uprising use similarly traditional language, and it is difficult to detect any “anti-feudal” or egalitarian language in these documents. Instead the rebels are dedicated to the Yi political order and uses the kind of language, common in many previous rebellions, arguing against specific taxes and widespread corruption, albeit imbued with a strong anti-foreign element.

There are several ways one might argue against this article, which is not the point of this posting. One might, for example, argue that focusing on Chŏn or even the official documents of the rebel goals which were presented to the government doesn’t get you far in rejecting the thesis that the strong egalitarian elements of the Tonghak religious movement, especially after Ch’oe Sihyŏng takes control of it, and other ideological elements among the peasant supporters are important factors in mobilizing support for the rebellion. I’m simply not in a position to argue either way in this debate.

However, one thing of interest which Yew objects to is that “Post-1945 historians almost universally cite” (166) a twelve point document declaring the goals of the rebellion as evidence of its “radical or revolutionary nature”:

1. Eliminate the long-standing mistrust between Tonghak believers and the government in dealing with problems of administration.
2. Investigate the crimes of venal and corrupt officials and punish the guilty severely.
3. Punish men of wealth who owe their fortunes to high-handed extortionate practice.
4. Discipline those yangban in or out of office whose conduct is improper.
5. Burn all documents pertaining to slaves.
6. Rectify the treatment of those engaged in the “seven despised occupations”…and free the paekchŏng outcasts once and for all from the wearing of their distinctive “P’yŏngyang hat”
7. Permit the remarriage of widows.
8. Ban all arbitrary and irregular taxes.
9. In employing officials, break the pattern of regional and class discrimination and appoint men of talent.
10. Punish those who collaborate with the Japanese
11. Cancel all outstanding debts owed to government agencies and private individuals.
12. Distribute land equally for cultivation by owner-farmers (Lew 165-6)

This is some great material! It is full of progressive and modern enlightenment propositions. The problem is, says Lew, that “this program cannot be regarded as authentic.” (166) It comes from O Chi-yŏng’s authobiographical memoir published in 1940 and Lew refers to it as something of a “historical novel” written in the late 1930s when there were strong socialist ideas popular in colonial Korea. More importantly, the rest of the article shows other important rebel documents contemporary to the uprising which bear little or no resemblance to this document.

In an introductory text on Korean history (that I’m reading in order to improve my horrible Korean) called 함께 보는 한국근현대사 and published by the 역사학연구소 just last year in 2004, I found this morning that the only document which is quoted in its description of the Tonghak rebellion has this very familiar looking list of twelve demands:

1. 도인과 정부 사이에는 묵은 감정은 씻어 버리고 서정에 협력한다.
2. 탐관오리의 죄목은 조사하여 하나하나 엄징한다.
3. 횡포한 부호들은 엄징한다
4. 불량한 유림과 양반들은 징벌한다.
5. 노비문서를 태워 버린다.
6. 칠반천인의 대우를 개선하고 백정 머리에 씌우는 평양갓을 벗게하다.
7. 청춘과부의 재혼을 허락한다.
8. 무명잡세는 모두 폐지한다.
9. 관리 채용은 지벌을 타파하고 인재 위주로 한다.
10. 외적과 내통하는 자는 엄징한다.
11. 공사채를 막론하고 지난 것은 모두 무효로 한다.
12. 토지는 평균으로 분작하게 한다. (역사학연구소 ed. 51)

If the document is highly problematic (in a memoir from 1940) and there are other documents contemporary to the rebellion, why is this still being used (this book’s introduction claims to incorporate “new trends” in the historiography, although I really know little about it or the authors, I picked it up almost at random in a Seoul bookstore)? Some of these other documents, of course, show almost none of these enlightenment features, but speak of “fulfill[ing] the duties of loyalty and filial piety” and of “strengthen[ing] moral relationships, rectify[ing] the names and roles, and realiz[ing] the teachings of the Sages.” (167) Another document cited by Lew focuses almost entirely on eliminating corruption and addressing very specific tax and economic related concerns – features common to many pre-modern rebellions around the world. (171)

If the progressive and/or revolutionary egalitarian aspects of the important Tonghak uprising can be shown with other evidence, perhaps the mention of the uprising goals in these official documents should be dropped entirely?

Lew, Young Ick. “The Conservative Character of the 1894 Tonghak Peasant Uprising: A Reappraisal with Emphasis on Chon Pong-jun’s Background and Motivation.” The Journal of Korean Studies 7 (1990): 149-180.

Do we want to judge?

Caleb Mc Daniel has a nice post on President Bush, and his recent claims that his policies in Iraq can only be judged by future historians. Caleb points out that this is a common dodge for politicians, but at the same time he, like me, seems a bit smitten by the high status this gives to historians. (Proper historians, of course, not revisionists.)

I must say I am a bit more conflicted about this than Caleb is. One of the things that my advisor was very satisfied with towards the end of his life was the way that the study of Republican China was becoming an academic issue. Fewer and fewer students wanted to re-fight the battles of the Civil War in his class, he did not have to worry about his relatives in Taiwan when he published stuff, he was not in any danger of being hauled in front of HUAC for his academic work. (He was a Fairbank student) There were benefits to the politicization of history (none of the grad students doing Ancient Greece got defense department money to do their language work,) but he was happy to see it go. I think he was happy with the change on a personal level and also on an intellectual one. 1949 happened. The Communists came to power. Nothing that was said now could undo that, and while attempts to use history as ammunition in American political battles were probably inevitable they were not a good thing for history. Actually, given the American political culture it was somewhat odd that “Who lost China” had such a long run in American politics.

On the other hand, while the passage of time helps to turn history into an academic subject, I don’t think it actually accomplishes anything in itself. With the passage of time more documents become available, and in many cases they become easier to search, but of course no new evidence is created. Eventually a secondary literature is created that helps you to figure out what you are looking at. None of this is necessary, however. Well, at least that was Sima Qian’s position. Sima was the Han dynasty historian who was castrated for his defense of a general whom the emperor had condemned. I’ve always assumed that this was in part because of factional situations at court, but it also grew out of Sima’s theories of history. He judged generals and ministers and emperors all the time and placed them in categories of good and bad. Like Ranke, Sima saw the historian as God, passing out judgments, and for Sima the standards you judged people against were eternal. Not only could historians judge the present, it was something they were ideally situated to do. This is not how we see historians today, of course, but Han Wudi was not disagreeing with Sima about the validity of praise and blame history. He agreed that standards were eternal, he agreed that judgment had to be made, but he disagreed with Sima about who got to be the judge. For him revisionist history was lesse majeste

So I suppose that if we are honest historians we have to stand up like Sima Qian and insist that historians alive today are just as good at writing the history of today and praising and blaming as the historians of 100 years hence will be able to.

Continent, Peninsula, Islands: notes on the theory of uneven and combined development and its possible application to northeast Asian history

A few weeks ago I attended the conference organised by Historical Materialism journal at SOAS on the theme ‘Towards a Cosmopolitan Marxism’. There was one session in particular that I wanted to attend: one of my favourite historians, Neil Davidson, discussing the theory of uneven and combined development with Colin Barker. The session didn’t disappoint. Neil Davidson’s paper looked at the intellectual history of the idea of uneven development going back to enlightenment thinkers such as Leibniz and tracing it through to its more developed form in the writings of Trotsky, such as his History of the Russian Revolution (although even here it is not really systematically developed as a theory). Here is the classic passage from the introduction to that book, quoted by Davidson:

The privilege of historic backwardness – and such a privilege exists – permits, or rather compels, the adoption of whatever is ready in advance of any specified date, skipping a whole series of intermediate stages.

And here is Trotsky’s passage on combined development:

From the universal law of unevenness thus derives another law which for want of a better name, we may call the law of combined development – by which we mean a drawing together of the different stages of the journey, a combining of separate steps, an amalgam of archaic with more contemporary forms.

Colin Barker on the other hand asked whether it might be possible to extend the theory in two directions: into the study of pre-capitalist history and beyond the national level to an understanding of global combined development. I won’t deal with the latter idea here, but the idea of the application to the history of pre-capitalist societies did give rise to some thoughts that I’d like to jot down here.
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Cheng-Zhu or Chengs v. Zhu?

I didn’t make a big thing of it in class, and nobody seems to have noticed the discrepancy, but there’s something of a disparity between my World History textbook (Brummet, et al., Civilization: Past and Present, 11e) and my own understanding of the development of Neo-Confucianism. Now that the semester’s (almost) over, I’d like to throw it open for comment.

My understanding, based in no small part on the new editions of the Columbia Sourcebooks, is that Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi were largely in agreement on the matter of li [principle] and qi [essence, force, energy, etc.], but that Cheng Yi emphasized qi as the most important consideration in personal development while Cheng Hao emphasized jen [humaneness] as the key to education and moral understanding. Zhu Xi, then, while a student of both brothers, was more a follower of Cheng Yi, focusing on the function of qi; thus the term Cheng-Zhu Confucianism.

Cheng Hao, on the other hand, was the progenitor of the Cheng-Lu strain, emphasizing, along with Lu Xiangshan, the unity of xin [mind, soul, heart, etc] with the Ultimate substrate of existence and the li principle. This is important particularly because it’s the foundation for the development of Wang Yangming thought, which was very influential in Japan.

Civilization, though, puts the Cheng brothers together as developers of li-qi theory, and claims that Zhu Xi “differed from the Chengs by ascribing greater importance to li over qi and by positing the existence of a Supreme Ultimate to which all li was connected.” (304)

Am I splitting hairs to see the textbook as oversimplifying to the point of error? How do you teach the Song Renaissance?

Because we must…

If it isn’t ninja, it’s geisha. Yes, the weekend following the 64th anniversary of Pearl Harbor is the perfect time for “spectacularly unfortunate metaphors about male eels and female caves and one regrettably brief catfight in a kimono.”

I admit, I didn’t read Memoirs of a Geisha when it came out, hit the bestseller lists, etc. I haven’t read it yet, but I know I should. Not just to nitpick at the book and movie (which I won’t see this weekend, though I might over break if opportunity presents), though that might indeed be fun, but because its popularity is something which we will have to take into account when we teach for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, the New York Times review from which the above quote is taken has a pretty good synopsis of the film and background, and pretty much comes to the conclusion that it’s a film that works visually much more than narratively. The job of a movie reviewer is twofold: explain what does and doesn’t work about the movie so you know if you want to see it; be entertaining. For both, it’s hard to beat Dargis’ concluding paragraphs:

Mr. Marshall can’t rescue the film from its embarrassing screenplay or its awkward Chinese-Japanese-Hollywood culture klatch, but “Memoirs of a Geisha” is one of those bad Hollywood films that by virtue of their production values nonetheless afford a few dividends, in this case, fabulous clothes and three eminently watchable female leads. Although it’s always a pleasure to see these three in action, and there’s something undeniably exciting about the prospect of them storming the big studio gate, the casting of Ms. Gong and Ms. Zhang ends up more bittersweet than triumphant. Ms. Zhang, for one, shows none of the heartache and steel of her astonishing performance in Wong Kar-wai’s “2046.” …

Ms. Gong’s hauteur and soaring cheekbones work better for her character, a woman of acid resolve. Although there are moments when Hatsumomo comes perilously close to Dragon Lady caricature (“I will destroy you!”), the actress’s talent and dignity keep the performance from sliding into full-blown camp. But even the formidable Ms. Gong cannot surmount the ruinous decision to have her and Ms. Zhang, along with the poorly used Mr. Yakusho, deliver their lines in vaguely British-sounding English that imparts an unnatural halting quality to much of their dialogue. The. Result. Is. That. Each. Word. Of. Dialogue. Sounds. As. If. It. Were. Punctuated. By. A. Full. Stop. Which. Robs. The. Language. Of. Its. Watery. Flow. And. Breath. Of. Real. Life. Even. As. It. Also. Gives. New. Meaning. To. The. Definition. Of. The. Period. Movie.

For slightly less breathless period pieces, Sour Duck has a review of a Taisho art exhibit (but missed the complementary Meiji works), which looks like fun, and runs almost until Christmas.

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