Taiwan in Transformation 1895-2005

The Challenge of a New Democracy to an Old Civilization

Chun-chieh Huang

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9781138533813
• eBook ISBN: 9781351487085
• Topic: Politica e relazioni internazionali
• Subtopic: Storia e teoria politica

The last decade of the twentieth century witnessed rapid changes not only in global politics but also in Taiwan's quests for new identities. The notorious martial law was lifted in July 1987, and long-repressed calls for democratization began to be heard that caught worldwide attention. In tandem with economic transformation, the entire world of thought in Taiwan underwent significant changes. Both economic and ideological restructuring have been basic elements of transformation in postwar Taiwan. However, rapid democratization has opened a Pandora's box, and stirred a whirlwind of discord.

This volume elaborates on the "where from" and the "where to" of the Taiwan transformation and attempts to answer such questions as: Is the old Taiwanese work ethic just a relic of the past? Is Taiwan going to become an Armageddon of ideological wars?

Chapters deal with the vicissitudes of Taiwanese nostalgia for cultural China; postwar Taiwan in historical perspective, in particular the rise and fall of the agrarian culture; the transformation of farmers' social consciousness in the period 1950-1970; Confucianism in postwar Taiwan: historical, philosophical, and sociological; the case of Hsu Fu-kuan, which provides an epic case of the intertwining of cultural crisis with personal crisis; the development and metamorphoses of Taiwanese consciousness in the unfolding political context, the awakening of the "self"; and finally "mutual historical understanding" as the basis for Taiwan-Mainland relations in the twenty-first century.

Taiwan in Transformation seeks to show that historical insights extrapolated from an understanding of history are essential for grasping and solving the basic problems facing Taiwan at present, including the Taiwan-Mainland relationship in the twenty-first century. It will be of interest to Chinese area specialists, sociologists, and historians.

Part 1

Retrospect

1

The Taiwanese Nostalgia for Cultural China (1895–1950)

Our study of the transformation of Taiwan begins with a reflection on the vicissitudes of Taiwanese nostalgia for cultural China. This chapter explores: (1) the ‘where from’, (2) the ‘what’ and ‘where to’, and (3) the ‘why’ of Taiwanese nostalgia for the Chinese homeland-culture, as it unfolded from the Japanese occupation (1895–1945) until the 1950s. In general, Taiwanese nostalgia for Chinese culture as their ‘home’: (1) was first aroused by the oppression of the alien Japanese rule, (2) was a psychological yearning for homecoming and as such was brutally disappointed and dissipated individually, also when Taiwanese stepped onto the soil of Mainland China, and, collectively, when Taiwan was ruled by the Nationalist government. This is a sad chronicle of the spiritual journey of Taiwanese souls, which teaches us to steep ourselves in the age-old Chinese cultural heritage.

1:1 The Rise and Formation of Cultural Nostalgia, 1895–1945

The Chinese who immigrated to Taiwan from the coastal regions of Fujian and Guangdong regarded Mainland China as their “homeland”. Later, their nostalgia for Chinese culture was aroused and strengthened by two factors: (1:1:a.) suffering under Japanese political oppression, and (1:1:b.) Taiwanese identifying with Chinese culture (but not with any political regime in China). Last, (1:1:c.), we consider the excitement Taiwanese felt at the moment of their homecoming back to their mother-country.

1:1:a. Rather than describe the Japanese colonial regime in detail, we will consider several Tawanese reactions to perceived colonial oppression. We draw upon the firsthand materials left to us by the intellectual Yeh Jung-chung

(1900–1956), the writer Wu Cho-liu

(1900–1976), the doctor cum writer Wu Hsin-jung

(1906–1967), and the intercoastal merchant Wu San-lien

(1899–1988). Their writings rank among the most notable expressions of consciousness of collective identity in Taiwan.

Yeh Jung-chung was a fervent follower of the eminent landlord Lin Hsien-tang

(1881–1956). Yeh reminisced with feeling about his childhood impressions of Tangshan

, that is, Mainland China. His elders had liked to say: “Tangshan shan chang-chang

,”¹ which contrasted with the impressions of Japanese prejudice he had suffered. Yeh wrote,²

Our homeland feeling and our people’s consciousness, I would say, were aroused by the Japanese prejudice and oppression. Their prejudice and oppression made it quite clear to the Taiwanese that the Japanese ‘Principle of Unity, Assimilation and Equality’ is a pure sham. Their bullying and oppression provoke in us a strong centripetal force toward our motherland, just as a child would cry out for its mother when bullied.

The Japanese people try in every way to assimilate the Taiwanese people. Yet, they wouldn’t necessarily be happy if they were to see us completely assimilated and completely Japanese. All they want to do is to make us Taiwanese forget our motherland and colonize us into the second-class citizens, “second” to what they call “motherland people.”

Clearly, their official policy is contradicted by their individual behavior. But, their bullying and oppressive behavior amount to giving a rich chemical fertilizer to the sprouts of our homeland feelings and to our people’s consciousness, nurturing them until they grow large and unshakable. The problem is that people like me, born after the Japanese occupation, have only a vague idea of our motherland. We cannot handle or step into our motherland, it is just a virtual reality to us. Deep in our hearts, we always have a yearning to touch our actual motherland.

Yeh expressed this on behalf of his generation—yearning for the untouched soil, unseen rivers and unclimbed mountains of their motherland, where they no longer had relatives or acquaintances. All they possessed were just abstract ideas and vague impressions—gathered from the writings they happened to have³—about a history and culture they had not personally experienced. All they had was a reactive feeling, that “centripetal force,” for their home-land, their Volksgeist.

Yeh recalled that whenever people protested, the Japanese always threatened them with “if you don’t like being Japanese, you can just go back to China.” In such an oppressive atmosphere, Taiwanese sentiments naturally grew fervent toward the homeland; the more oppression the Taiwanese people faced, the deeper their cultural nostalgia became. If the Japanese really had put into practice what they had preached about ‘Equal Treatment’ and ‘Becoming One Body with All Peoples,’ the Taiwanese cultural nostalgia for China might not have grown to such white heat. Although language, writing, conventions and customs are ties that bind an ethnic community together, political rule had the final say on whether Taiwanese people could accommodate themselves to Japanese rule.⁴ In his writings, Wu Cho-liu also expressed cultural nostalgia for China aroused by Japanese oppression. What was Taiwanese “love of motherland?” Wu wrote:⁵

Although the love of motherland, being invisible, is only an idea and impression, this love always subtly pulls at my heart like the force of gravity, as irresistible as the feeling of an orphan child cut off from his unseen unknown parents, but who keeps yearning to see them. It does not matter to him what sort of people they may be, he simply yearns to be back in their arms, to feel warm all over. This instinctive sort of attachment goes out to our motherland; it is a feeling that can be known only by those who have it. Perhaps only those who have suffered from the bullying and oppression of the alien tribe can understand this feeling.

This sentiment was echoed in the writings of Wu Hsin-jung, a medical doctor in Yen-shui

, Tainan, during the Japanese occupation. His diary contains an entry expressing his concerns about Mainland China during the Sino-Japanese War (1937–1945) when the Japanese were committing unspeakable atrocities. He also felt anguish over the dismemberment of China:⁶

In Peking, Wang Kemin organized the Temporary Government of the ROC over the provinces of Hebei, Shanxi, Shandong and Henan. In Suiyüan, King De established the Self-Government Alliance of Mongolia over Inner Mongolia. Previously, Zheng Xiaoxu

had established Manchu imperial rule over the three provinces in Northeastern China. Ku Lun

had organized the Republic of Outer Mongolia. O, how sad! Our nation has now been dismembered. But for a great leader, our country will soon be occupied by several foreign powers, and incessant turmoil will follow.

Again,⁷

A whistle sounded last night alerting us to the news that Wuhan

has fallen to the Japanese troops. The heart of China has been taken. Before this we lost the brain area of Nanjing

and the two hands of Beijing and Guangzhou. All China has now are the two legs of Gansu

and Shanxi

on the left and Yunnan

and Guizhou

on the right. How can we manage? Like Yuan barbarian Kublai and Qing barbarian Aisin Chüelo of old, Japan has now taken over the Central Plains. Can our Chiang Kai-shek be as heroic as Yue Fei

of the Song or Zheng Cheng-gong

of the Ming?

In Taiwan, Wu worried about Mainland China just as Zheng Chenggong or Koxinga had done at the end of the Ming dynasty. On finishing Pearl S. Buck’s classic novel The Good Earth on December 21, 1947, Wu empathized with suffering Chinese peasants and villagers, sighing that “only revolutionary methods peculiar to China can solve China’s especially complex problems.”⁸

Another intellectual, Yang Chao-chia

(1891–1976) from Ching-shui

, Taichung, described the conditions in Taiwan under the Japanese occupation as follows:⁹

Previously in Taiwan several newspapers were published. They were all banned in 1936 when Japan started planning to invade China. All bookstores and private schools teaching Chinese were also closed. But, our cultural spirit could not be suppressed. If you do not believe so, just look at how the Taiwanese are still using their own Chinese language and writing; many poetry clubs continue to operate, many bookstores and private schools are still run without being publicized, and in many places we have musical organizations for southern and northern Chinese music. Even geisha girls at the taverns continue to sing Chinese songs; they sell their entertainment but not themselves to be ‘soiled and shamed’ by Japanese men. The very few of them who do business with the Japanese are nicknamed ‘barbarous chicken.’ The very few of our ladies who are married to Japanese are nicknamed ‘barbarous liquor bottle.’ They are despised all over and have nowhere to stand.

Yang recalled that once, when he had gone abroad to Japan to study, a Tai-sho

Exposition was being planned. With the help of a friend, he arranged to be a guide at the Association of Sino-Japan Relations for some high-ranking official visitors from China. He made friends with some of these dignitaries, who felt sympathetic to him in his position and encouraged him to visit Mainland China, saying, “The Chinese Motherland does need Taiwan...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Halftitle Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Preface
• Acknowledgments
• Prologue
• Part One: Retrospect
• Part Two: Prospect
• Epilogue
• Works Cited
• Index of Names