For some time now the historian Frank Dikotter has been arguing that the Republican Period in China, far from being a bleak era characterized by weak governance, rampant warlords and foreign domination, was also, despite its real woes, a time of considerable promise and no small achievement. This of course is good news here in Taiwan, officially designated as being a continuation of the Republic of China founded on the fall of the emperors in 1912.
A major implication of what Dikotter argues is that the current push by Beijing to make China a globalized society is nothing new. Rather than breaking with a long tradition of being closed to the outside world, what the current leadership is actually doing is returning to the direction in which China was headed between 1912 and 1949, but which was abandoned when Mao Zedong (毛澤東) and the Communists took over.
In fact there’s a lot of evidence that China had for centuries been remarkably open to the rest of the world, and the concept of a “closed” society was largely a fabrication of foreigners who wanted to prize it open still further, especially in the field of trade concessions.
Dikotter, though remaining Professor of the Modern History of China at London University’s School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), is now based at the University of Hong Kong. His argument in favor of the Republican era as a time of increasing openness and internationalism, not to mention reform, has been mainly presented in two books, Crime, Punishment and the Prison in Modern China (2002) and Things Modern: Material Culture and Everyday Life in China (2007).
The advantage of this new, shorter book, part of Hong Kong University Press’ Understanding China series, is that it pulls together his main conclusions and adds to them chapters on other aspects of Republican China, treated here by him for the first time. As a result, this book is a polemical overview of his essential position on the era, and as such attractive for those who might not have time to get to grips with his more detailed, specialist treatments.
Dikotter enters the fray with all guns blazing. What’s the point, he asks, of assembling more and more evidence supporting pre-existing assumptions? Far more useful is to go to the archives with an open mind and see what’s there, and what it tells us.
It could be argued, of course, that Dikotter too has an axe to grind — that saying that Republican China was full of promise, and this was all destroyed by the Communists, is as much a political platform as arguing the opposite, that China prior to 1949 was impoverished, corrupt and helpless and that the Communists saved the day. He’s at pains, though, to avoid this accusation, and often refers to the disasters that befell China during the period in question. “The point of this book,” he writes, “is not to provide exhaustive evidence for this view [i.e., that the Republican era was open, diverse and so on], but to avoid bland consensus, provoke critical thought and encourage readers to think creatively.”
The old view, then, was that China from 1912 to 1949 was autocratic, militarized, inward-looking and frequently starving. No, says Dikotter. Politically it was, for a time at least, more democratic than many comparable countries in Europe (and almost everywhere else in Asia), less militarized per head of the population than might be supposed, with considerable stability and continuity in local government even if the central government was weak, and with a remarkably international perspective.
What Dikotter is in favor of is prosperity at a grass-roots level, human rights, political pluralism, representative institutions and constitutional government. What he’s against is the Marxist view — still popular with many university-based historians even when the rest of the world has turned its back on it — that violent revolution can bring equality, happiness and prosperity, and is the only answer to the manifest evils of capitalism.
Other positive features of Republican China the author points to are the establishment of Shanghai as the Hollywood of Asia, and also as its effective jazz capital, the steady increase in farmers’ incomes between 1870 and the early 1930s, widespread religious diversity and toleration, the surprisingly global perspective of education even in remote areas, and the increasing availability and popularity of Western foods (diversification again). All these contrast strongly with the situation that developed after 1949.
Particularly important in this account is the international perspective of the elites — respected Chinese jurists working in international organizations, some 40,000 students going abroad to study annually, and the cosmopolitan mind-set introduced to China by foreigners working in the International Settlements.
The greatest effect of this small book, assuming it gets published in a Chinese-language edition, will be in China itself. There the decadence of the Republican era is holy writ, but this author likes nothing so much as opening minds.
I once interviewed Frank Dikotter, and afterwards walked through Taipei’s Ximen District with him. It was a Saturday evening and, as he looked at the youthful crowd and the mass of merchandise on offer, he said smiling, “Now this is what I really approve of!”
He’s known to be working now on another topic, this time inside the Mao era. There’s reason to think, therefore, that The Age of Openness may be his last word, for the time being at least, on Republican China.
On Jan. 17, Beijing announced that it would allow residents of Shanghai and Fujian Province to visit Taiwan. The two sides are still working out the details. President William Lai (賴清德) has been promoting cross-strait tourism, perhaps to soften the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) attitudes, perhaps as a sop to international and local opinion leaders. Likely the latter, since many observers understand that the twin drivers of cross-strait tourism — the belief that Chinese tourists will bring money into Taiwan, and the belief that tourism will create better relations — are both false. CHINESE TOURISM PIPE DREAM Back in July
Taiwan doesn’t have a lot of railways, but its network has plenty of history. The government-owned entity that last year became the Taiwan Railway Corp (TRC) has been operating trains since 1891. During the 1895-1945 period of Japanese rule, the colonial government made huge investments in rail infrastructure. The northern port city of Keelung was connected to Kaohsiung in the south. New lines appeared in Pingtung, Yilan and the Hualien-Taitung region. Railway enthusiasts exploring Taiwan will find plenty to amuse themselves. Taipei will soon gain its second rail-themed museum. Elsewhere there’s a number of endearing branch lines and rolling-stock collections, some
Could Taiwan’s democracy be at risk? There is a lot of apocalyptic commentary right now suggesting that this is the case, but it is always a conspiracy by the other guys — our side is firmly on the side of protecting democracy and always has been, unlike them! The situation is nowhere near that bleak — yet. The concern is that the power struggle between the opposition Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and their now effectively pan-blue allies the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) and the ruling Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) intensifies to the point where democratic functions start to break down. Both
The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), and the country’s other political groups dare not offend religious groups, says Chen Lih-ming (陳立民), founder of the Taiwan Anti-Religion Alliance (台灣反宗教者聯盟). “It’s the same in other democracies, of course, but because political struggles in Taiwan are extraordinarily fierce, you’ll see candidates visiting several temples each day ahead of elections. That adds impetus to religion here,” says the retired college lecturer. In Japan’s most recent election, the Liberal Democratic Party lost many votes because of its ties to the Unification Church (“the Moonies”). Chen contrasts the progress made by anti-religion movements in
RSS