Formosa: Licensed Revolution and the Home Rule Movement, 1895 - 1945

Formosa: Licensed Revolution and the Home Rule Movement, 1895 - 1945

By George Kerr

Apologies. There doesn't seem to exist a cover for this particular tome. You'll have to do with a map instead.

For anyone out there who is an not expert on (or even familiar with) the history of Taiwan and the far east, George Kerr is a rock star in the genre. Kerr is the author of the now legendary Formosa Betrayed and a giant in the field of Taiwanese history during Japanese occupation, the handover to KMT forces in 1945 and the subsequent invasion of KMT loyalists in 1949. In short, if you're into Taiwan, George Kerr is your man.

Formosa: Licensed Revolution and the Home Rule Movement, 1895-1945 is a definitive overview of Taiwan during its time as a Japanese colony. Kerr spends a lot of time setting up the geopolitical reasonings for the annexation and colonization of Taiwan by the Japanese and their attempts (albeit uneven) to assimilate the Taiwanese populace into the "greater Japanese empire."

Kerr divides the book neatly into decades beginning with a pleasant overview of Taiwan history before the Japanese occupation. He is careful to point out that never once in the years preceding Japanese control did China have control over the entire island nor where they especially concerned with governing it. In fact, when control of Taiwan was shifted from Imperial China to Japan following the signing of the Treaty of Shimonoseki, it seemed as though China was glad to be rid of the burdensome island. To put it more bluntly, China's current claims on the island of Taiwan are an historical fabrication. China's control and interest in Taiwan before 1895 was cursory at best and more likely leaned toward indifferent.

As for Japan, they were keen to add a colony. Taiwan was an image boost for the emerging power and a global showcase, a way in which Japan could demonstrate their unique ability to govern and rule foreign a colony. They leapt into the mission in earnest, modernizing Taiwan and laying the essential infrastructure that would help the ruling Chiang family catapult Taiwan's economy into the stratosphere in the late 1970s.

However,ended up making many of the same mistakes their western counterparts made in other parts of the world, especially in their dealings with the Taiwanese aboriginal people. While governing the Chinese population was relatively smooth, especially in and around the new metropolis of Taipei, the resources that Japan so sorely coveted lay in the mountainous interior, the ancestral home of Taiwan's Atayal and Bunun populations, both of which would be a consistent thorn in the side of the Japanese occupiers from day one. Japan showed little deftness in dealing with these populations and relations with the tribes remained volatile and often violent (head-hunting remained a cultural mainstay among the aboriginals well into the 1930s, much to the dismay of Japanese policemen stationed in the mountains along the east coast). By the onset of the Sino-Japanese War in the mid 30s, Taiwan was still only nominally Japan-ized and the population's tolerance of the Japanese colonists had more to do with them not being Chinese. Japan was bad, but not as bad as China. In the end, Taiwanese just wanted to be left alone.

Kerr does a wonderful job of introducing the major players on the island during the occupation from hard line Governor General Kodama Gentaro, uber-builder Nitobe Inazo to the forward thinking Sakuma Samata whose lenient policies came closest to building a real and working relationship between crown and colony. Kerr paints the occupying Japanese as more nuanced and complicated than simply a trigger-happy whip-wielding force brow-beating a population on a whim. In fact, the political and social climate, especially during the early years of the Japanese occupation (read: Sakuma's time as Governor General) was such that a very health home rule movement was allowed to ferment and gain momentum.

Under the nominal leadership of Lin Hsien-Tang, a prevailing zeitgeist manifested among the small but influential sphere of Taiwanese intellectuals in Taipei and other major cities and while Taiwan only gained full representation in the Japanese Diet during the waning days of the Second World War, the Home Rule Movement did garner some very notable successes along the way, namely free and open elections (rigged by the Japanese, of course), a more lenient policy toward the aboriginals (after the Musha Rebellion) and the Kominika, a period of real social and political detente between Japan and Taiwan.

While the political and social history in this book is great, where this book really excels is its ability to paint a vivid picture of life on the island during the half-century of Japanese rule. Kerr takes the reader into the homes and schools of average Taiwanese. He depicts the lives of east coast aboriginals and middle class Taiwanese merchants. He discusses the differences between the Hakka and Hoklo populations and the one can practically small the salt in the air as he describes the vibrant trade between Taiwan's west coast than Fuchian province on the other side of the Taiwan Strait, something that a current native of Taiwan would never understand. Kerr really nails the mixed feelings among the Taiwanese in relation to their colonizers. On the one hand, the Japanese brought modernity to the island in a way that the Chinese could never have done, but on the other hand... they weren't Taiwanese.

For anyone remotely interested in the greater history of Asia in the 20th century, this book is essential reading. It lays all sorts of framework and back story to many of the current issues currently plaguing this part of the world and hints at the travesty that would occur after Japan relinquished the island following their surrender to American forces in 1945. It is a balanced overview of an often overlooked (both in Taiwan and the rest of the world) era in Asian history.

Good book.

Why China Will Never Rule the World: Travels in the Two Chinas

Why China Will Never Rule The World: Travels in the Two Chinas

By Troy Parfitt

This is actually two books in one.

Good and bad.

At its best, Parfitt has written a readable, often witty account of his travels through China and Taiwan. His prose is decidedly readable and I found the book difficult to put down once I settled in. Each chapter catalogues a particular leg of the journey and provides fascinating historical subtext that fits the narrative. Some of the highlights include profiles of both Chiang Kai-Chek and Mao Zedong, a riveting account of cannibalism during the cultural revolution and the revolting account of Chen Chin-hsing, Taiwan's most notorious criminal. His travels include stops in Hong Kong, Macao, Lhasa, Shanghai, Harbin, Beijing, Chongqing, Kunming and Xiamen in china and virtually everywhere (except, mysteriously, Kaohsiung) in Taiwan over a span of a few years. The breadth of travel gives Parfitt a unique perspective on the wider Chinese world.

Parfitt pulls absolutely no punches when it comes to what he sees as the deficiencies inherent in Chinese culture. He refuses to accept the "you just don't understand the Chinese way of life" argument that gets bandied about by Sino-apologists (both Chinese and Western). He seems little interested in accepting Confucian ideals, communist rhetoric and the over-used "5000 years of tradition can't be wrong" argument. Instead, he attacks it head on and often comes to very erudite conclusions, many of which I have arrived as well (especially on the third of the book that pertains to Taiwan). I appreciate the no-holds-barred approach to writing and I got the feeling that if this book had been about 100 pages shorter, it would have been a really good book.

Unfortunately it's not....

Well, not entirely....

At its worst, Parfitt has written a nit-picky tract that seems to hold no real purpose beyond vilifying two nations of people. I felt like he could have written a similar book about Canadians or Finnish people or the Masai tribe. It's easy (if not cathartic) to be critical. If he had stuck to his larger, more sweeping conclusions and left his day-to-day irritants out it would have struck a grander chord. The ninth time he complains about being solicited for a massage in the middle of the night I just wanted to grab him and tell him to unplug his damned phone and quit complaining about non-issues. It lessened the impact of his valid conclusions.

Indeed, much of his writing comes across as an exhaustive rant against China (and sometimes Taiwan) which left a slightly foul taste in the my mouth. I understand that it is difficult to write a book such as this without falling foul of the politically correct crowd (of which I am not a member). But there are moments in this book where I found Parfitt flirting far too close to the line of what is acceptable to print and what should be better left unsaid. Parfitt is a classic example of an author lacking in subtlety. I realize that this book was aiming for the jugular, but there are a few instances that felt as if he was hitting below the belt.

Ofttimes, I found that Parfitt allowed his subject matter to get away from him and he allowed far too much emotion to seep into his narrative. As someone who, in a former life, worked in the publishing industry, I wonder about his editorial process. His editor was either unqualified or entirely unfamiliar with the subject matter. A good editor would have checked his emotional tirades and reigned in his rants (sorry if you read this Troy Parfitt's editor).

Overall, I recommend this book, but with a caveat. If you only plan to ever read one book about traveling through China and Taiwan, don't bother with this one. It's hardly objective. But if the subjects of China and Taiwan are of particular interest to you, it's worth the read. As an example of one man's journey through this part of the world and his frustration, it deserves a place among the growing bibliography of travel literature on the subject of the Chinese world.

In the beginning Parfitt implies that because he has no vested interest in China, his take on the subject would not be skewed by agenda. He's but a simple English teacher who lived and worked in Taipei who wanted to see for himself the rise of a global player. As a long-time resident of Taiwan I must challenge this notion. It is really difficult to live in Taiwan for an extended period of time (and be as well read as Parfitt seems to be) without having some preconceived notions about the Mainland. It's simply not possible.

In the end, I didn't expect any clear answer as to why China will never rule the world and I didn't get one. You won't get one either, but you'll probably enjoy a lot of the stories along the way. For anyone who has spent any time living inside the Chinese world, there will be much in this book to make you nod in agreement, and just as much that will make you furrow your brow in consternation.

Formosan Odyssey: Taiwan Past and Present

Formosan Odyssey: Taiwan Past and Present

By John Ross

I must admit that I'm a little embarrassed that this book has been sitting on my shelf, unread, for almost five years. I rarely get books about Taiwan and I love reading them when I have them. So what gives? Why did it remain so long on the shelf? Part of me didn't think I needed to read a travelogue about Taiwan after having been here for four years. The other half of me was just feeling guilty about damaging the book. Here's the story:

A friend lent this book to me way back when my (currently) adult dog was still a teething puppy. I left the book on a table a little too low to the ground and Milo (my dog) got to it. The corners of the books became a bit of a chew toy for my dog and some damage was done. I had put off reading it because I had other books to read but I then put off reading it because I figured that when I finished the book I would be forced to give it back, revealing my dog's crime. Five years on, the damage doesn't look that bad and I felt a reverse pang of guilt seeing the book on my shelf. So I finally cracked it.

Well, anyway...

I wish someone had handed this book to me at the airport when I landed in Taiwan in 2002. It would have helped immensely. John Ross' book is a fun romp through Taiwan both past and present (and when I say present, I mean turn-of-the-millenium... his assessment of Chen Shui-Bian looks a little odd now considering the 2004 election, assassination attempt and post-presidential scandals). It's written in a very laid-back style that endears the reader to the writer even when he seems to be doing the most mundane things. The fact that Ross is a Kiwi (an under-represented English speaking nation in Taiwan I might add) added to my enjoyment of this book if only that he takes a few unnecessary but highly amusing jabs at Australians. He also seems to like beer as much as I do.

Along with beer, Ross seems to be a big fan of Taiwanese history and offers up some pretty interesting bits from yesteryear: George MacKay, the tooth-pulling Canadian missionary in Danshui, absolutely riveting stories of aboriginal head-hunters (there are pictures!) and harrowing tales of British POWs in Japanese-run work camps during the Second World War. For anyone remotely interested in Taiwanese history but uninterested in reading the typical, highly politicized books on the market, Formosan Odyssey is a really fun start.

I really enjoyed the way Ross ties critical points in Chinese history with Taiwan. From the voyages of Zheng He (the actual Sinbad the Sailor), the rule of Koxinga to the way in which he explains to a layman why there is such friction between China and Taiwan. Again, none of this stuff should be cited in any academic work, but it offers a working knowledge for those interested in Taiwanese history.

Interspersed among his histories, Ross details his own travels around the island in the days and months following the 921 earthquake. Some of the stories are laugh-out-loud funny for anyone who has spent any amount of time in Taiwan. I imagined while reading his musings about Taiwan that virtually anyone who has spent two years in Taiwan could have written much the same stories. The fact is, nobody has. However, there are superb blogs that provide the same sorts of material online (with the added bonus of daily updates). My favorites are The View From Taiwan and David on Formosa.

Ross' personal stories about living, working and traveling in Taiwan are not terribly unique, but the way he presents them exudes a sense of camaraderie with the writer, especially among those who have done the same. We've all been there, done that, had that done to us. It's funny cause it's true. It's hard not to like Ross in the same way that it is hard not to like Bill Bryson.

There are some weak spots in this book. The middle chapters which deal with religion in Taiwan bogged the work down somewhat, although that may be my own bias. I have little tolerance for religion, especially those that promise salvation via the wallet, which is a major problem I have with Taiwanese folk religions. For all the beauty and curios that religion offers, there is ten times more blatant embezzlement done in the name of the gods. I found Ross' tolerant tone a little unnerving through this part.

While this tolerant tone irked me in this particular section of the book, I must note that Ross' forbearance is otherwise refreshing. While I do believe that any English-speaking foreigner in Taiwan could write a very similar book, I doubt they could write it as even-handedly as Ross. Foreigners in Taiwan are often one of two sorts: Overly apologetic (the you-just-don't-understand-Chinese-culture crowd) or spitefully venomous (the ethnocentric my-way-is-better crowd). There are varying degrees of both, but it takes a special writer to find that middle ground (I know I couldn't... I'm spitefully venomous). Perhaps it's a Kiwi trait. The only other person I know that would be able to write a fair and balanced (and not in the Fox News sense of "fair and balanced") book about Taiwan is also a Kiwi. Go figure.

It's unfortunate that Formosan Odyssey is currently out-of-print. If I had my way, which I never do, I would make this a required reading for anyone planning on staying in Taiwan for more than a year. It really gives you a flavor of what is to come your way (without really spoiling the surprise) and offers a lot of insights into the culture, the people and their history. There is something to be gained for everyone, from fans of politics, sociology and anthropology to those planning to study martial arts or simply to travel around the island. Even Taiwanese might find it an interesting account of how visitors see their nation.

Great book. Milo is sorry about the corners.