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Orientations, Volume 8 Contents Samuel Lederer The Power of Sight—Ideology, Knowledge, and Legitimacy in the Annual Report on Reforms and Progress in Korea, 1907–1917 Page 1 Dhani Caro Childhood`s End—Youth, Violence, Education, and the Mechanism of Japanese Neoliberalism Page 16 Erina Aoyama Ambiguity as Spectacle— Encounters with the Myth of Japanese Monoethnicity Page 38 Ted Smith Travelogue Page 43 Stuart Agnew Theoretical Approaches to the Reunification of the Korean Peninsula Page 49 Verena Singmann Changes for Taiwanese women under Japanese Colonial Rule,

1895-1945 Page 69

Vinci Ting Jessica Tsang

Albert Joern Creating the body of a fighter and the mind of a pacifist—Concepts and principles behind Shaolin teachings Page 90

Graphic Design Geoff Han

Tim Quijano Banned In China?—Contemporary Chinese Film, the Complicity of the Communist Party, and the Misjudgment of Western Journalism Page 117 Plates 1–10 In Reference to The Power of Sight on p. 1–16 by Samuel Lederer Page 60 Colophon

Editor-at-Large Daniel Ho Acknowledgments: Students’ Society of McGill University Department of East Asian Studies of McGill University Dean of Arts Development Fund (McGill) East Asian Studies Students’ Association of McGill University Arts Undergraduate Society of McGill University McGill Alumni Association Goulet Bowker & Associates Department of English of McGill University

Editor Joshua Cader Managing Editor Sarah VennesOuellet Editorial Collective Dhani Caro Xue-Rong Jia Ben Karl Sophia Koessel Verena Singmann

Submissions: Orientations 3434 McTavish St Montreal, Quebec H3X 1X9 Canada ISSN: 1705-6047

Notes from the Editors Orientations, is, as it always has been, a forum to think about “Asia” (and sometimes, the Asian diaspora). Asia, that is, that less-loaded area-type term that is used in contrast, and in parallel, to “Orient.” Why would we call the journal Orientations, then? Why not “Asian Forum”? Firstly, we’re not about to change the name now, fifteen years in. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly (and self-importantly), by having “Orient” in our name, we hope to be seen as approaching playfulness about the thorny Orientalism, as hinting at a willingness to engage the stereotypes about inquiry into things “Oriental” (that is, of being a Eurocentric imperialist). In this way we embrace the method I believe to have been implicitly taught to us as East Asian Studies students: be aware of what is out there, and point out inconsistencies, not forgetting to make fun of our status/project along the way. And to vaguely make reference to “Asia” from time to time, of course. We only “vaguely” make reference because what Asia is, as a subject of study, proves to be very difficult to pin down. We aren’t geographers, with our Asia beginning at the Urals (this is a trap; obvious Eurocentric bias, it actually ends at the Urals); our Asia begins with Saïd’s damning Orientalism and ends with Barthes’ exoticizing Empire of Signs (or the other

way around, if it fits the model any better). Simultaneously insecure and intrigued, wary and wide-eyed, we are proud to have brought you: Volume Eight. Joshua Cader We want to be objective. We want to respect Asia. We travel, watch Asian movies, read their historical documents and meet new people— all this to then reflect on every detail, from the way photography solidifies an identity to the way baseball mythology is constructed in an alternate environment. What books does her “Daddy” read? How does that movie accurately reflect the pressures facing Japanese youth? These are real questions, asked of a real Asia. We hope. Striving for reality, Orientations seems an odd title, as Josh pointed out. The loaded “Orient” recalls the very contrary of objective thinking; an exotic world that left the European filled with awe and, unfortunately, condescension. But Asia will always be “they” and never “me” for the North American academic. Our loaded eyes are not that different from the imperialist’s and it is important to acknowledge that if we want to see “Asia” rather than a self-conjured illusion. Sarah Vennes-Ouellet orientationsmcgill@gmail.com http://sites.google.com/site/ eassamcgill/orientations

1 By Samuel Lederer

The Power of Sight Ideology, Knowledge, and Legitimacy in the Annual Report on Reforms and Progress in Korea, 1907–1917

In June 1907, three representatives of Emperor Kojong of Korea arrived at the Second International Conference on Peace at The Hague to lodge a protest and to seek international intervention against Japan’s 1905 protectorate. The Western powers in attendance emphatically rejected Kojong’s envoys. Because Korea’s foreign affairs had been charged to Japan under the Second Japan-Korea Agreement of 1907, the three representatives could not be recognized as legal officers and their claims were illegitimate under international law. This brazen challenge to the legitimacy of the Japanese Residency-General undoubtedly contributed to the mounting pressure for annexation, which occurred in 1910.1 Another consequence of The Hague Inci1 The Residency-General was renamed the Governmentdent was the publication General in 1910. After of the Annual Report for 1910, “Korea” was replaced 1907 on Reforms and with “Chosen (Korea)” in Progress in Korea2. The the title of the Annual Reports. 2 Alexis Dudden. Japan’s Annual Reports, publColonization of Korea: ished annually until 1945, Discourse and Power. (Honocontained maps, conlulu: University of Hawaii version tables, statistics, Press, 2005), p. 21. photographs, and textual content that suggested a knowledgeable and effective Japanese colonial government. A young bureaucrat named Hishida Seiji, who had received a PhD in political science from Columbia University in 1905, compiled the Annual Reports from 1907

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to 1917. Written in English, overtly laudatory in tone and couched in terms of international law, these volumes were specifically targeted at a Western audience; thus, the Annual Reports must be situated next to the historical events that had informed their content and reception in the West. I will resurrect the hitherto neglected aspect of the Annual Reports—photography—to highlight the ways in which images were used to fabricate a stereotyped Korean identity. The Annual Reports used textual and pictorial content to legitimate the Japanese rule of Korea through ideological discourses and to express power through knowledge and the reinterpretation of history. To the Japanese government, The Hague Incident, while an utter failure for Korea, invited unwelcome attention on their colonial affairs. Fresh was the memory of the Triple Intervention of 1895 in which Britain, France, and Russia forced Japan to retrocede control of the Liaotung Peninsula. Economically dependent on trade and bound by the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, Japan had much cause for concern over potential friction with the Western powers. Although Western media outlets wholly chastised the Korean mission to The Hague, Tokyo sought to make sure that the tide of world judgment did not turn against Japan.3 The strategic value of 3 Dudden, Japan’s Colonization of Korea, p. 15. the Korean Peninsula as well as the specter of a vengeful Russia (noted to be the only member of The Hague Conference to criticize Japan) necessitated the courting of international opinion. In order to preserve the legitimacy of Japanese colonial rule under international law, the Resident-General’s Office began to publish the Annual Reports in 1907. While the Annual Reports have received scholarly attention mainly for their statistical content, they are too often dismissed as unabashed propaganda. The works of David Brudnoy, Alexis Dudden, Peter Duus, and Andre Schmid have provided valuable insights into the

historical events, political decisions, and economic trends during the protectorate and the first decade after annexation. Dudden’s Japan’s Colonization of Korea, in which she situates the textual content of the Annual Reports in larger discourses of power, has greatly informed this paper. But while Dudden examines three photographs from the Annual Reports, she does not focus on the importance of the visual content for articulating Japanese ideology and power. The selection of each photograph, like the carefully crafted text, was a decision; this includes the picture from the 1907 Annual Report depicting an orderly classroom of children learning under a traditionally dressed Korean instructor who is supervised by a Japanese man in Western dress (Plate 1). This photograph could have very well been removed in favor of another; however, the Government-General chose to include certain images in order to display the fruits of Japanese-led progress to the world. The Annual Reports did not contain outrageous theories of Japan’s superiority and there was not a trace of the race-hate that would color the rhetoric of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere—the writers of the Annual Reports sublimated such discourses. This was to rebuff, rather than to invite, international criticism; ideological discourses operated on a more discreet level, and the calculated intent was to elevate the Annual Reports above the level of mere propaganda. Hishida, one of the first Japanese to receive a PhD from an American university in 1905, was skilled in international law. He was a student of the 23rd U.S. Assistant Secretary of State, John Bassett Moore, an American authority on international law who served on The Hague Tribunal from 1912 to 1938; Moore contributed the forward to Hishida’s dissertation, which was published in 1905 and reprinted in 1940. An ardent nationalist, Hishida maintained that Japan’s mission in Korea held a larger significance.

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4 Seiji Hishida, The International Position of Japan as a Great Power. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1905), p. 259.

welfare of Japan…4

[T]he Mikado and his statesmen have from time immemorial regarded the peace of the Korean peninsula as an object of vital importance to the

wrote Hishida of Japan’s historical mandate in his 1905 dissertation, The International Position of Japan as a Great Power.4 The welfare of the sovereign nation is the bedrock of international law; since Korea’s geographical proximity affected the welfare of ‘the Mikado,” Japan’s domination of the peninsula was entirely legitimate. The Yamato-damashi, the ‘chivalrous spirit of the Japanese’… [and] the readiness to help the weak victim against the wicked aggressor…is particularly characteristic of the Japanese feeling toward Korea,5

5 Hishida, Japan as a Great Power, p. 259.

Hishida mused on the benevolent rescue of a vulnerable Korea from an encroaching Russia.5 Since the ideology of munificence was to be central to Japan’s image projected abroad, Hishida was a logical choice to compile the Annual Reports. The Annual Reports were sent gratis to those governments whose representatives had attended The Hague Conference in 1907.6 Copies of the Annual 6 Dudden, Japan’s Colonization of Korea, p. 21. Reports were also sent to 7 Dudden, Japan’s Colonizaleading universities tion of Korea, p. 20. in the United States and Britain. At present, some 70 U.S. universities possess near-complete sets of the Annual Reports. As Dudden has shown, the design and language of the Annual Reports were based on the reports of the British and French colonial govern-

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ments in India and Algeria respectively.7 To appreciate the intricate ideologies of the Annual Reports, one must view them in relation to the events during the first two decades of the 20th century in Korea. For the movement towards annexation, more important than The Hague Incident was the assassination of Itō Hirobumi in Harbin in October, 1909. While domestic pressure for annexation had surely been mounting for years, the assassination convinced Tokyo that the actual condition of affairs in Korea had continued to grow worse and worse with no apparent hope of improvement other than annexation. 8 8 Government-General of Chosen. Annual Report During the latter years of on Reforms and Progress in the protectorate, assasChosen (Korea): 1910–11. sinations and riots against (Seoul: Government-General the Japanese government of Chosen, 1911), p. 7. were common; brigades of Korean nationalists (‘Righteous Armies’) carried out numerous attacks on Japanese garrisons. Villages accused of supporting these brigades were burned in retaliation, further escalating tensions. Despite Japan’s efforts to reform Korea’s political and economic institutions under the protectorate, Hishida wrote in 1940, “the simple-minded, backward people of Korea failed to appreciate what was being done for them.”9 As a result of the obvious fact that the 9 Seiji Hishida, Japan Among The Great Powers. protectorate had failed to (New York: Longmans, mollify Korean nationalGreen and Co., 1940), p. 174. ists, Japan annexed Korea in 1910 and General Terauchi Masatake was installed as Governor-General. Brudnoy has termed the rule of General Terauchi and his successor, General Hasegawa Yoshimichi, who ruled collectively from 1910 to 1919, as budan seiji (military government) for their violent and

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10 David Brudnoy, “Japan’s Experiment in Korea,” Monumenta Nipponica, Vol. 25, No. 1/2 (1984), p. 168.

repressive tactics.10 In the words of the Canadian reporter Frederick Arthur McKenzie, who lived in Korea in the aftermath of annexation, budan seiji “revealed the harshest and most relentless form of Imperial administration.”11 Korean history books were burned; Koreans were prohibited from carrying weapons, while Japanese politicians and schoolteachers brandished swords. A massive land reform was undertaken, which consolidated land in the control of largely Japanese landlords, and also increased tenancy which, by 1914, comprised as much 11 F.A. McKenzie, Korea’s Fight for Freedom, (Seoul: as 76% of the farmer class.12 Yonsei University Press, 1969), The Annual Report of p. 182. 1910–11, however, sung the 12 Brudnoy, “Japan’s Experipraises of the peace folment in Korea,” p. 168. lowing annexation in which 13 Annual Report: 1910–11, p. 3. “people were naturally stimulated to exploit various productive undertakings without anxiety.”13 There was no mention of the growing discrepancy between the wages of Korean and Japanese workers; the whitewashed image of a harmonious Korea presented in the Annual Reports often did not reflect conditions on the peninsula. As McKenzie noted, the ideological smokescreen of reform and progress was physically manifested in construction projects: Japan sought to make the land a show place. Elaborate public buildings were erected…far in excess of the economic strength of the nation. To pay for extravagant improvements, taxation and personal service were made to bear heavily on the people. Many of the improvements were of no possible service to the Koreans themselves.

14 McKenzie, Korea’s Fight for Freedom, p. 185.

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They were made to benefit the Japanese or to impress strangers.14 Just as the public buildings were meant to impress foreigners in Korea, the Annual Reports elicited the favorable opinion of Western governments. The Government-General’s restriction of the press heightened the effect of this constructed image of Korea. Korean newspapers were shut down for the slightest comment critical of Japan, and the Government-General prevented the importation of anti-government Japanese newspapers. By 1910, the Korean domestic press, including the English-language Seoul Press, was almost entirely government-controlled.15 As the main source of information for foreign observers, the Annual Reports had a tremendous influence on the international perception of Japan’s rule on the peninsula. [T]he habitual 15 Brudnoy, “Japan’s Experiment in Korea,” p. 168 idleness and unthinking prodigality of the natives [Koreans] were to be turned into honest desire for labour and thriftiness so that the prosperity of all parts of the Peninsula might be advanced, expounded the 1911–12 Annual Report on the difficult task of the Government-General.16 In a 1913 article for the Bulletin of the American Geographical Society, the American geographer and University of Chicago professor Ellen Churchill Semple echoed, “the glorious examples [of the Japanese] will prove effective means to stimulate backward 16 Annual Report: 1911–12, Korea.”17 Many foreign p. 4. observers accepted 17 Ellen Churchill Semple, the unfiltered images of “Japanese Colonial Methods,” the corrupt Korea and Bulletin of the American progressive GovernmentGeographical Society, Vol. 45, No. 4 (1913), p. 269. General that the Annual

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Reports conveyed; the language of legality, unavoidability, and benevolence legitimated this productiondriven rule. In the concluding pages of many of the Annual Reports were full English texts of the various agreements, treaties, and decrees that had ceded control of various Korean political organs to the GovernmentGeneral. The introductory section of the Annual Reports summarized the previous years’ innovations and often reiterated the achievement of social harmony to augment this legality. As the 1910–11 reports stated,

The logical legal reforms 20 Annual Report: 1907, p. 22. enacted by the ResidencyGeneral, clearly stated in text on the following page, are directly contrasted with this backwardness. This textual comparison finds a visual corollary in a pair of photographs of graveyards that are typical of the organizational schema used by the compilers of the Annual Reports (Plates 2, 3). In the photograph of the “Native Grave-Yard,” the reader is presented with a darkened, desolate image of an ‘indiscriminately arranged’ Korean graveyard that slopes downward to the right of the frame. The field is brought close to the viewer; one can scrutinize the unkempt, haphazard field in fine detail. In “New Grave-Yard at Taikyu,” the left-sloping plane is organized in terraces and viewed from an elevated perspective. This peopled landscape provides a visual contrast between the formerly backward treatment of the departed and the new, respectful arrangement facilitated by benevolent Japanese rule. The Annual Reports used pictorial and textual content to articulate the ideology of familial relationship, with Japan acting as the wiser older brother to immature Korea’s younger brother. As Peter Duus has noted, due to their geographical, linguistic, and racial proximity, Japan could not use an ideology of racial superiority to justify its domination of Korea.21 Rather, to 21 Peter Duus, The Abacus and the Sword: The Japanese buttress its legality under Penetration of Korea, 1905– international law, the 1910. (Berkeley, CA: University Government-General apof California Press, 1995), propriated the language p. 420. and ideological framework of the family. As the 1911– 1912 Annual Report stated effusively:

the Annexation of Korea was effected in perfect mutual understanding and good-will between the two Governments, by the procedure of concluding a treaty.18

18 Annual Report: 1910–11, p. 12.

The Japanese seizure of Korea was cast as an internationally sanctioned, peaceful accord between two peoples. The relationship between the two, though, was not equitable. In the Annual Reports, Japan was often cast in the role of a reluctant, yet duty-bound benefactor of an utterly backward Korea. “In order to sweep away the evils rooted during the course of many years…it had been made abundantly clear that” Korea must be annexed into the Japanese empire.19 As the leading 19 Annual Report: 1910–11, p. 10. power in Asia, Japan alone held the mandate to assume control of Korea, a country so geographically close yet developmentally distant. The 1907 Annual Report speaks of the disarray of the Korean legal system: there was no such thing as a barrister to defend a suspected criminal…and torture was commonly resorted to as a means of procuring evidence.20

The ill-feeling formerly in evidence has gradually become a thing of the past. Especially since annexation have Koreans come to regard

Orientations, Volume 8 the Japanese as seniors and the latter to regard the former as juniors, and so their brotherhood is being cemented by mutual respect.22

22 Annual Report: 1911–1912, p. 1–2.

By invoking the image of the family, the GovernmentGeneral attempted to naturalize and legitimate its rule of the Korean peninsula. The visual dimension of this ideology can be seen in “Open-air Training of Korean Children” from the 1913–14 Annual Report (Plate 4). One is presented with an outdoor scene of a group of schoolchildren being instructed in writing techniques by a Japanese teacher. The attentive Korean children, organized in neat rows, wear soldiers’ hats and ill-fitting smocks of white and black. The image of an infantile, developmentally backward Korean populace achieving reform under Japanese tutelage is almost comically displayed. Hishida and his team of compilers inherited and capitalized on the stereotype of the lazy, backward Korean that was articulated by the Japanese who rushed to ‘The Hermit Kingdom’ after the Russo-Japanese War. The 1911–1912 Annual Report seized on this image of the idle Korean in describing the low wages garnered before annexation: Thus, labour or physical work was despised on account of the social status of the labouring classes, and as payment of wages was also very uncertain, most of the people became accustomed to being idle, and bore their consequent impoverishment quite contentedly.23

23 Annual Report: 1911–1912, p. 1–2.

The Koreans’ idleness blinded them to the importance of active and painstaking work; it was left to their Japanese leaders to sweep away this blindness and instill

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industriousness. The Government-General accomplished this task by promoting industry on the peninsula through state monopolies like the Oriental Tobacco Factory. Two photographs from the 1911– 1912 Annual Report display this productive conversion in action (Plates 5, 6). In “Native Workers, Oriental Tobacco Factory,” rows of Koreans, eyes focused on their task, are shown rolling cigarettes. The width of the frame conveys a sense of productivity; rows of diligent employees and orderly tobacco boxes fill the expanse of the room, and only the Japanese supervisors break this rhythm by confronting the camera’s gaze to confirm their advisory role. On the same page, one is presented with the antithesis of this productivity; Korean carriers stand and squat in a rubble-strewn street in “Native Carriers, Chige-kun.” The focused industriousness of the factory workers contrasts with the idleness of the top-knotted carriers staring at the observer listlessly.24 But these carriers, like the 24 Semple, “Japanese Colonial Methods,” p. 267. tobacco factory workers, are not beyond hope of reform; they, too, could overcome their idleness through the fruits of the pervasive Japanese reforms. The organization of the Annual Reports projected an image of informed rule; textual, statistical, and visual data of sanitation, education, agriculture, public works, trade, communications were included in minute detail. Taken in sum, the Annual Reports displayed the pervasiveness of the reforms enacted by the Government-General: [T]he progress 25 Annual Report: 1909–1910, p. 3. made had been by no means of small degree, reform measures being extended to almost every branch of the administration during several years under the guidance of the Japanese protectorate.25

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This progress was displayed in that celebrated ritual of modernization, The Industrial Exhibition, held in 1915 to commemorate the five years since annexation (Plate 7). Containing 48,765 exhibits, “the exhibition presented in concrete form the advance or development made during the new regime” that was appreciated by Koreans and “proved a very strong stimulus to further improvement.”26 By memorializing five 26 Annual Report: 1915–1916, p. 1–2. years since annexation, the 1915 Industrial Exhibition had the important effect of reorienting time and knowledge around the progress and reforms of Japanese rule on the Korean Peninsula. In order to exert power, the compilers of the Annual Reports reinterpreted Korean history in terms of the struggles and triumphs—the discourse—of Japanese imperialism. The 1907 Annual Report asserted that, due to the chaotic state of Korean politics after the Sino-Japanese War, all the reform measures hitherto initiated [by the Japanese] were arrested. Korean political history was a perpetual repetition of the same tale: plot, counterplot, insurrection, and foreign complications.27

27 Annual Report: 1907, p. 3.

In one sweeping gesture, the Annual Report wiped away the intricacies and complexities of Korean history, recasting it as a cycle of treachery, deceit, and ingratitude for Japanese-led reform. Although perhaps obvious, it should be noted that the very existence and titling of the Annual Reports, published annually and invoking progress, contributed to this reinterpretation of history according to the narrative of Japanese imperialism. This recasting of history, though, often operated on a more subtle level in dealing with specific historical events. On the death of Itō, the

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1909–1910 Annual Report performed such an interpretive gesture: In the extremity 28 Annual Report: 1909–1910, p. 2. of violence, a Korean inspired by short-sighted superstition and mistaken patriotism, assassinated Prince Itō… when he was on a visit to North China in October [1909].28 Just as Korea’s history was reduced to a simple narrative of disloyalty, the assassination of Itō was presented as an outburst of a mad man. Denying the desire of Koreans to be independent as ‘mistaken,’ the report imposed an identity on Itō’s assassin, judging the Korean nationalist movement to be nothing more than ‘short-sighted superstition.’ The Annual Reports exerted power through photography by claiming the mandate to pose, display, and scrutinize Koreans. According to Foucault, photography promotes the “normalizing gaze, a surveillance that makes it possible to qualify, to classify, and to punish. It establishes over individuals a visibility through which one differentiates them 29 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the and judges them.”29 WithPrison, trans. Alan Sheridan, out the photographs (New York: Pantheon Books, contained in the Annual 1977), 25. Reports, the Koreans were merely some unidentifiable group largely invisible to Western observers. But the Government-General possessed the power to make the Koreans visible by photographing them; after making them visible, the Japanese colonial government proceeded to construct an identity for the Koreans that could be judged. An identity of criminality is imposed upon Koreans in this pair of photographs from the 1915–1916

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Annual Report depicting the taking and filing of fingerprints (Plates 8, 9). In “Taking Impressions of Finger-Prints,” a sheet of fingerprints is superimposed upon a scene of a uniformed policeman methodically taking the fingerprints of a raggedly dressed criminal. More than the obvious contrast between good and evil, this photograph marks the Korean man as a knowable, classifiable criminal. The motivation for and the nature of his crime are not important; the simple presence of the fingerprints confirms that he is a criminal. Without the juxtaposition of “Classifying Finger-Prints” on the same page, one could assume that the crime of the man from “Taking Impressions” was an isolated case of ‘misplaced patriotism’ or ‘shortsighted superstition.’ “Classifying” depicts an official reviewing and organizing fingerprints in front of a large display of paper-filled shelves, demonstrating that it is not an isolated incident. Possessing such a large number of criminals, evidenced by the shelves of fingerprints and accompanying statistical data, Korea appears to need a well-informed master like Japan. Photographic expressions of power, however, did not merely punish; power was used to affect productive reform. The Japanese mission on the peninsula was not to exterminate the Koreans, but rather, the task was to mold the Korean people into useful, loyal subjects of the Japanese Empire. The Imperial Donation Fund, a gift from the Emperor to the Korean people after annexation, started this process of reform; Korean women,

The 1913–14 Annual Report displayed the reformed subject; it presented what Koreans could accomplish in a photograph of a female weaver trained with the advent of The Imperial Donation Fund (Plate 10). The weaver confronts the camera’s gaze with a face utterly devoid of emotion. Indeed, she exudes productivity, as her hands remain on her loom while she turns her head to meet the camera. Her lack of emotion belies the degree to which she has been reformed; she neither bemoans her task nor seeks assistance. Rather, she performs her duty without resistance, embodying the accomplishments of the Government-General in reforming idleness, correcting backwardness and effecting progress in Korea. The Government-General used the Annual Reports of Reforms and Progress in Korea to legitimate the Japanese rule over Korea to a Western audience; by having it written in English, the Annual Reports defended the legal and moral legitimacy of the Government-General. Hishida and his fellow bureaucrats used textual and visual content to articulate the ideologies of familial relationships, correcting backwardness and reforming idleness. These ideologies displayed to Western observers are both the justification for as well as products of their rule of Korea. Clearly, the Annual Reports was a vehicle to monopolize and disseminate propagandistic information on Korea, and the Government-General exercised power through this very monopolization by reorienting time and perpetuating stereotypical, constructed images of a backward Korea and a corrupt populace. —SL

who in former days spent their time mostly in idleness, have received training [in various industries]…and are showing their appreciation by steadily pursuing such employments.30

30 Annual Report: 1913–14, p. 18.

Notes Churchill, Ellen. Semple, “Japanese Colonial Methods,” Bulletin of the American Geographical Society, Vol. 45, No. 4

(1913), p. 269. Brudnoy, David. “Japan’s Experiment in Korea,” Monumenta Nipponica, Vol. 25, No. 1/2 (1984), p. 168.

Dudden, Alexis. Japan’s Colonization of Korea: Discourse and Power. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2005), p. 21. Duus, Peter.

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The Abacus and the Sword: The Japanese Penetration of Korea, 1905–1910. (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1995), p. 420. Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, trans. Alan Sheridan, (New York:

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Pantheon Books, 1977), 25. GovernmentGeneral of Chosen. Annual Report on Reforms and Progress in Chosen (Korea): 1910–11. (Seoul: GovernmentGeneral of Chosen, 1911), p. 7. Hishida, Seiji. The International Position of Japan

as a Great Power. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1905), p. 259. Hishida, Seiji. Japan Among The Great Powers. (New York: Longmans, Green and Co., 1940), p. 174.

Childhood`s End Youth, Violence, Education, and the Mechanism of Japanese Neoliberalism

Childhood must be a protected space, and children must be protected, not only from the material deprivation and danger, but from bondage to an overdetermined future. The grimness of Japanese childhood today stems not only from the appalling physical and psychic costs extracted from children, but from its constriction of horizon. —Norma Field, The Child as Labourer and Consumer The Japanese media is rife with articles, books, documentaries, and films concerning the phenomenon of youth violence, abuse, and suicide, often centered

upon, but not exclusive to, the school environment. Needless to say the events that are rendered through the media should be reviewed with a certain air of caution; accompanying the numerous detailed, objective accounts of student related violence and brutality, is an equal amount of overly exaggerated, gruesome renditions propagated by the “shock” industry who pride themselves on their ability to create the next level visual brutality. That being said, the issue of student violence and bullying amongst adolescents remains a problem to this day, not excluding severe cases of corporal punishment and obvious over-exertions of authority at the hands of the teaching staff who believe discipline, above anything else, is the key to a brighter future for the next generation of adults. Drawing primarily from Toshiaki Toyoda’s film Blue Spring, I will attempt to contextualize the depiction of violence in relation to the subtle undertones of Adorno and Horkheimer’s concepts of societal homogeneity and conformity within the masses. As well, this will touch upon the perception of “invisibility” and the futility of existence expressed by such tragic cases as ‘Youth A’ in the “Kobe wounding and murdering of children incident” of 1997. In relating the notion of educational reform through neoliberal government ordinance, as proposed by Andrea Arai, as well as the discussion of the “loss of childhood” amongst Japanese youth, assessed by Norma Field, this essay will explore the various connections between the advent of school violence and bullying vis-à-vis the concepts of a standardized, conformist societal machine. My discussion will further attempt to relate the ideal of commensurate education to the disparity of Japanese youth when confronted with the overbearing, virtually unattainable standards of success, and the stress of competition within a nation that strives for perfection where the rewards never seem to fully outweigh the risks. What has caused this violent phenomenon afflicting Japanese youth, especially in a country characterized by its order and prosperity? In asking such a

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question it is important to first understand the historical context from which Japan became viewed as an “economic miracle,” and the relationship between the decline of its phenomenal growth and the adverse effects on both the economic stability of the nation, and the subsequent educational reforms adapted for this new era of “survival.” In her rather stark criticism of the Japanese educational system, Andrea Arai addresses the various implementations of the Japanese government to recover from their economic recession, and its relation to the ultimate survival of both the nation and individual through the neoliberal reformation of the educational system. In her text, “Killing kids: recession and survival in twenty-first-century Japan,” Arai focuses on Japan’s state of disparity following the economic recession of the 90’s, where the global perspective on Japan turned one-hundred eighty degrees 1 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in twenty-first century Japan,” Postcolonial Studies 6.3(2003): p. 369.

as the ‘learn from Japan’ decade of the 1980’s was succeeded by the ‘fear of following Japan’ decade of the 1990’s.1

Japan’s “Golden Sixties” was a time where, the focus of worldwide curiosity […] fell on the assumed origins of these highly envied results— the overall system of Japanese socialization from the homes to schools.2

2 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in twenty-first century Japan,” p. 369.

The “bursting of the Japanese economic bubble” and subsequent recession that began in the 90’s opened up these naturalized linkages between economic prowess and culture to scrutiny, causing doubts to be shed (and ultimately new

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anxieties to 3 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in emerge) about twenty-first century Japan,” cultural conp. 369. tinuity, identity and the legitimacy of State policies.3 With the increase in government debt and the abandonment of any unlikely notion of an economic “rebound,” the realization and ensuing fear of a complete economic recession became all too tangible. In a time where entrance to college was far from guaranteed, competition in schools began to skyrocket and severe trends of student desperation at these dire situations began to surface in the form of violent and brutal crimes. One such instance that jumps to mind would be the “Kobe ‘Youth A’ killing and wounding of elementary schoolchildren incident in 1997”. This ‘Youth A,’ a third-year junior-high student, was responsible for wounding and murdering a series of elementary-aged children, taunting the authorities claiming that he “just wanted to kill,” and blaming the education system for the “invisibility of his existence.”4 This notion of an “invis4 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in ible existence” within twenty-first century Japan,” the framework of a comp. 370–371. pletely schematized schooling program will be further expounded upon in my assessment of Field’s discussion on the Japanese commensurate education system, as well as Adorno and Horkheimer’s homogeneous culture industry. Following such tragic events as the Kobe ‘Youth A’ Incident, and the terrorist attack of the Tokyo metro system carried out by the cult faction Aum Shinrikyo, the aforementioned “survival of nation and individual” became the primary goal of the Japanese government. Reports of

Orientations, Volume 8 frightening deficiencies of academic ability, physical strength and social skills among the young […] [combined with] their excess of desire for commodities and death

prompted the Japanese Ministry of Education to adopt new reforms that would “strengthen and revitalize the population.”5 At the heart of the Japanese reforma5 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in tion movement was twenty-first century Japan,” the implementation of a p. 370. neoliberal approach to remedy the debt and social burden of the federal government. Arai describes the basis of this neoliberal ideal as “a discharging onto the individual (and individual community) of former responsibilities for education, the child, and the home,” thereby “reducing the financial burden (and blame for problems in the system) on the federal 6 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in government.”6 In this new twenty-first century Japan,” world of individual edup. 372. cational responsibility, the future of the offspring depends solely on the combined effort of the nuclear family. This is seen in the toil and hardships of the parents who strive to provide sufficient means to educate their children, and the children, who work under the added stress of an even greater competition to ensure their place in a reputable college institution. And so the “battle” is once again re-ignited in the form of endless examination and the emergence of countless “cram-schools” tailored for the advanced education of the determined youth. Arai draws the connection between this fierce competition for superiority and Japan’s anxieties concerning its role in this era of globalization through the assessment of the highly controversial, cult classic film, Battle Royale. In this film adaptation of Kōshun

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Takami’s highly popularized novel, director Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale “projects the lengths to which the government is prepared to go to restore control” after the economic recession that caused the relentless struggle of global competitiveness.7 The “new 7 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in century education reform twenty-first century Japan,” law” of the “B.R. [Battle p. 367. Royale] Survival Program,” the fictional implementation of the Japanese government, echoes the all too real crisis situation of the Japanese Ministry of Education during the 1990’s. The bleak existence of the “fictional” societal structure; children living in broken homes, fathers committing suicide at the desperation of unemployment, and students boycotting classes, all seems to foreshadow the government’s decision to institute the B.R. Law, effectively pitting the “winning” class of a nationwide draw against one another in a fight to the death. The premise behind these rather drastic measures of educational reform, and the evident degree of barbarity and youth brutality, stems from the ultimate goal of the Ministry of Education to produce a pool 8 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in of sound (kenzen) twenty-first century Japan,” adults, who as p. 374. a result of their strength of conviction […] will be unambiguous about how to prepare the new generation for the demands of the new century.8 The new reality 9 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in of survival is that twenty-first century Japan,” not all will reach p. 373–374. the top, but those who do, like the kids in the film, will have to engage desper-

Orientations, Volume 8 ately (hisshi ni) to become worthy competitors for Japan in the amorphous battlefield of the global economy.9

Arai parallels the warlike conditions of the students in the film with the “less obvious kinds of battle for survival”; the ‘examination wars’ (juken sensō) which, like 10 Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in the film, are geared twenty-first century Japan,” towards the production of p. 373–374. a “resolute adult population” capable of coping with the added economic strain and stress of nationwide and global competition.10 Equally as pertinent to the discussion of the effects of Japan’s neoliberal reform on the individual family unit is the notion of a “disappearing childhood” amongst Japanese youth; expounded upon in Norma Field’s text “The Child as Laborer and Consumer”. In her text, Field assesses the growing cases of adult diseases among school-aged children in Japan, and concludes that with the high levels of blood cholesterol, ulcers, 11 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The high blood pressure, Disappearance of Childhood in diabetes, chronic constiContemporary Japan,” Chilpations, numerous dren and the Politics of Culture. accounts of school vioPrinceton: Princeton University Press, 1995: p. 53. lence, and school refusals, “childhood itself is at a risk in Japan today.”11 A student’s “activities” seems to follow the all too familiar routine of the fifty percent of fourth through sixth graders who, after their “full” day of school, rush home, grab a quick bite to eat, swap books, and rush to cram school, only to be forced to study for another four hours, followed by the occasional private 12 Field, Norma. “The Child lesson running for another as Laborer and Consumer: The two hours, upon which Disappearance of Childhood they return home, tackle in Contemporary Japan,” p. 54.

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homework, and start their routine once more after yet another late night of studies.12 So what is the point of this seemingly ceaseless cycle of work and study, or the training of children to accomplish countless, tedious objectives such as match-up games or mazes? According to Field: the point is 13 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The neither merely to Disappearance of Childhood perfect smallin Contemporary Japan,” p. 54. motor coordination nor to increase vocabulary per se, but to produce adults tolerant of joyless, repetitive tasks— in other words, disciplined workers.13 With a mind that has become thoroughly conditioned to the monotony of generic, standardized professions, it is no wonder that we view countless cases of “lashing out” against society’s mechanism whose fundamental principle of commensuration marks the very abolishment of future aspirations; however little they might deviate from the norm. In Toshiaki Toyoda’s Blue Spring, the main supporting character, Aoki, comes to the realization that his existence has been structurally limited by the schooling mechanism, and ultimately resorts to suicide; relinquishing his position as a future number in the masses. Ironically, Aoki’s suicide ends up representing the acknowledgement of his very existence rather than an escape from its very framework; marking his place in the world, not as a failed aspiring pilot, or a high school delinquent, but as the post-mortem leader of the desperate world created amongst his peers. In her discussion of the “prodigy model,” reminiscent of yet another youth from Blue Spring, Field uses this notion of conditioning children from an early age to accept the largely unreasonable degree to which they must perform in order to “get ahead”, and the subsequent price that must be paid to the stability

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of the family unit who will sacrifice anything and everything to experience the fruition of “their child’s dream.” Field assesses the prodigy child in a manner that somewhat parallels Adorno and Horkheimer’s discussion of the commodification of the consumer’s “needs” through the socializing agent of the culture industry, where the manufactured standardization of products creates a sort of homogeneity of desire, and propagates the notion of “anxiety” should there exist a failure to conform to these artificial desires. The culture industry subsequently seeks to rectify the corrosive deviations extant in the social machine through such a process of “nipping the buds” of ambitious delusions that are surely to lead to disappointment should these unrealistic notions remain unchecked. As Field asserts,

Field separates education into two distinct models: the prodigy model, and the Japanese education model, with emphasis on the former to produce a small number of remarkable, high performing individuals who generate profit for an equally small demographic, and the latter, for the production of an

No child labour laws protect these young [prodigies] from the extractive [education] industry for which they are the raw material, to be refined into spectacular commodities of however brief duration.14

14 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The Disappearance of Childhood in Contemporary Japan,” p. 54.

Through this “refining process,” childhood aspirations are quickly and succinctly put to rest, preparing the future generation for the realities of the harsh existence within the highly competitive, highly structured realm of global competition. Expounded upon further, It is the ordinary Japanese child who has become the raw material for the insatiable schooling industry, the ordinary child who at once toils and consumes, toils at consuming the products of this industry— cram schools, reference books, study guides, and above all, tests, tests and more tests.15

15 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The Disappearance of Childhood in Contemporary Japan,” p. 54.

exceptionally 16 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The competent sociDisappearance of Childhood ety whose in Contemporary Japan,” p. 56. members work remarkably well but do not, should not, produce spectacle as individuals.16 She further explains that the degree to which Japanese society invests in the education of their ordinary youth “has ended up generalizing the exploitative procedures designed to produce prodigies;” in essence, through the “schooling industry.”17 Here again we view Adorno and Horkheimer’s notion of the culture industry imposed on the school environment, wherein the 17 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The students are classified Disappearance of Childhood in into specific standardized Contemporary Japan,” p. 56. groups, effectively by 18 Adorno, Theodor & the “absolute power of Horkheimer, Max. “The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as capitalism”18 which acts Mass Deception,” The Consuas the filter mechanism in mer Society Reader. New charge of capping the York: The New Press, 2000: p. 3. amount of societal investment intended for these specific “levels” of ability. Accompanying this notion of the emergence of ideal educational models geared at producing “adult children” is the conception of a mechanized schematization of the individual, and the onset of a conformist nation whose incessant focus on organization and commensuration has led to widespread sentiments of

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“invisibility” and futility of existence among the youth in Japan. With the growing demand for conformity and structured conduct, the implementation and enforcement of more stringent rules and regulations begin to surface, leading to a heightened degree of abuse related to the violation of said laws and reforms;

Field’s text mentions only a few such instances of abuse suffered by the students at the hands of their “educators” who strive to maintain the status-quo of an ideal behavioural aesthetic. One instance of the rather extreme implementation of a simple rule against the tardiness of students upon arriving at school occurred on June 7th, 1990, when a junior-high-school girl was crushed to death by a teacher closing a steel gate; preventing late students from entry into the school.20 This tragic 20 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The incident incited student Disappearance of Childhood responses, speaking out at in Contemporary Japan,” p. 57. the obvious injustice and over-exertion of authority, relaying their own personal experiences of confrontations with educational authority. One student questioned the functions of these often brutally enforced regulations:

The degree of the school’s influence on the conduct and comportment of their students extends to their actions and behaviours outside the confines of the school environment. Field briefly outlines some of the many extramural conduct rules that students must obey in order to maintain the integrity and “proper image” of their schooling institution, as well as to ensure their development into the responsible, law-abiding citizens of the next generation of adult. From the length and style of their hair, to the strict curfews placed on dismissed students depending, quite specifically, on the time of year, these children are being conditioned for a life of orderly, somewhat mundane, conduct.22 22 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The It seems almost needDisappearance of Childhood less to say that such in Contemporary Japan,” p. 58. a strict socialization process only leads to the stripping of individuality for the youth that are incessantly classified more deeply and more extensively into the constructs of the “consumer machine” that is the culture industry. Returning, once more, to this notion of student “invisibility” as the cause for such events as the Kobe ‘Youth A’ Incident, it is important to investigate and outline the main contributing factors to such a phenomenon as the “loss of identity” of the individual. Field rather explicitly states that the hensachi, or standard-deviation score, is the primary conditioning tool which, from upper-level grade school students onwards,

What are school rules for? They say, ‘They’re there 21 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The for you,’ but they’re really Disappearance of Childhood just to make things easier in Contemporary Japan,” p. 57. for them. School should be fun, interesting. [But] it’s like a robot factory or a concentration camp.21

becomes an 23 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The identifier more Disappearance of Childhood substantive in Contemporary Japan,” p. 59. than their names since it denotes the rank of school they can next aspire to.23

This process of generalization surely accounts in part for the increasingly common reports of violence in the schools, with both children and teachers as perpetrators.19

19 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The Disappearance of Childhood in Contemporary Japan,” p. 56.

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The reforms of the Japanese Ministry of Education seem to mirror Adorno and Horkheimer’s conception of the culture industry, where Everybody must behave (as if spontaneously) in accordance with his previously determined and indexed level, and choose the category of mass product turned out for his type.24

24 Adorno, Theodor & Horkheimer, Max. “The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception,” p. 5.

This notion of acting in accordance with a “previously determined and indexed level” is reminiscent of the commensurate education system in which a student, indexed by his hensachi, must “choose” to enrol at the appropriate level of learning institution which he or she is entitled to attend. As Field asserts, students who have grown up identifying themselves by their standarddeviation scores convert themselves […] into a statistic legible to the “schooling industry” and sort themselves into the appropriate institutions leading to commensurate workplaces [; sorting] themselves into a future as determined by the guiding hand of computerized data.25

25 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The Disappearance of Childhood in Contemporary Japan,” p. 61–62.

This commensuration process of student abilities and skills that begins early on in childhood, ultimately determining the standard of education received later on in their careers, only serves to heighten the stress factor involved with performance and the constant aspiration towards perfection. The ceaseless testing and examination

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habituates chil26 Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The dren […] to their Disappearance of Childhood insinuation in Contemporary Japan,” p. 59. into a hierarchical world;” their place being “objectively” determined based on their hensachi.26 Drawing upon similar notions of schematization and commensuration is Kōbe Abe’s “The Bet,” in which “the system,” or “brain,” of a Japanese advertising agency, works “scientifically to increase productivity by transferring people to new sections according to the nature and trend of their associations [their degree of creativity and ingenuity]”27; emphasising 27 Abe, Kōbo. “The Bet,” Beyond the Curve. Tokyo: the enforcement of conKodansha International, 1991: formity and the app. 199. propriation of placement 28 Field, Norma. “The Child based on skills and as Laborer and Consumer: The Disappearance of Childhood ability. The reality of an in Contemporary Japan,” p. 62. education system whose goals “fail to suggest even a modicum of autonomy from the goals of the economy”28, as well as the confrontations with teachers, who abuse their students in an endless attempt to “guide” them into a “proper,” conformist identity, seems to mark the rather poignant effects of an advanced capitalist society in the midst of a struggle for global competition. Once again, this notion of the capitalist drive for conformity pays homage to Adorno and Horkheimer’s representation of a culture industry, or in this case, “education industry” that “robs the individual of his function [; its] prime service to the customer [the student] is to do his schematizing for him;” guiding 29 Adorno, Theodor & the “individual” to a Horkheimer, Max. “The Culture position that best suits Industry: Enlightenment their abilities.29 Facing as Mass Deception,” p. 6.

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such vast degrees of pressure, extensive study habits, and the forever looming threat of “school refusal” should they falter somewhat in their routine, has led to such adverse consequences as student breakdown, suicide, and a complete dissolution with any sort of institutionalized system, paving the way for youth delinquency, violence, and an overall state of desperation over the lack of a future, and a “constricted horizon.” Toshiaki Toyoda’s film Blue Spring, with its emphasis on the unambiguous, but vitally significant, re-occurring proverbial question: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” offers a somewhat despairing glimpse into the lives of handful of youth delinquents attending an all-boys Japanese high school. In what may be construed as the depiction of society’s problems creeping into the school environment, the youth find themselves at a crossroads; now in their senior year with graduation right around the bend, the students are forced to ask themselves the rather daunting question as to “what happens next?” Being utterly aware of the futilities of continuing education, the students opt to create a society of their own; a hierarchy of school order, with their positions, both physically and symbolically, at the top. “Whoever claps most rules. That’s our rule.” The one specification to the students’ “clapping game;” a dangerous test of endurance that places the student at the school tower, hanging off the edge of the railing, and counting how many times they could clap before having to reach back for safety, effectively preventing their otherwise deadly fall. Putting their lives quite literally on the line in order to fight for the role of gang leader, these students sought the only means of sensing an ounce of accomplishment or authority. In this allegorical representation of the life or death struggle for dominance in global competition, this game was their only grasp of at least a modicum of order, otherwise heavily lacking in their overwhelming, chaotic

school careers. In a failing education system, where the teachers, much like the students, cared little for the their future; counting instead on the accomplishments of those best suited to represent the nation in global competition, the students’ only option was to resort to a life of delinquency in their only world—the school. In my assessment of this desperate story of lost aspirations and the battle for social dominance, I will focus on the lives and events surrounding four primary characters; Yukio, Kimura, Kujō, and Aoki. Yukio, the first of the four “clappers” to withdraw from school after stabbing and killing a fellow classmate, was confronted with similar questions of future goals and aspirations by the student advisor: What do you want to do? What kind of job do you want? […] You’re young, you have dreams, right?

30 Blue Spring. Dir. Toshiaki Toyoda. Perf. Ryuhei Matsuda, Hirofumi Arai, Sosuke Takaoka, Yusuke Oshiba. DVD. Omega Micott Inc., 2001.

to which Yukio apathetically replied: “Well…vague dreams. […] I have hopes for world peace…and whatever.30 This underlying sentiment of “vague” dreams, and undefined futures, felt by nearly all the student gang members at Asahi High School, is somewhat indicative of the nationwide attitude towards the neoliberal educational reforms; placing the entire moral responsibility of providing a future in the hands of the families who strive for nothing short of the best for their children: Yukio, you won’t graduate at this rate. Your grades

31 Blue Spring. Dir. Toshiaki Toyoda.

Orientations, Volume 8 were always bad. Now you’ve tarnished your record. You’ll make your proud parents cry.31

When later asked by Kujō if he would find work, or go to college, Yukio once again hazily answers that he’s “destined to join Ultraman,” a fictional Japanese superhero who fights crime and protects the world. Convicted of murder, his reason being that the victim simply “talked too much,” Yukio was apprehended by the authorities and dragged out of school. Ironically, while kicking and screaming in a mad fit of hysteria, Yukio incessantly proclaimed his aspirations to take the school exams and graduate. Representing somewhat the ambiguity of the high school student’s existence, and in this case, the inability to re-integrate into the “education industry” after having relinquished all efforts to excel and strive for the ultimate conformist perfection, Yukio’s final scene reflects his ultimate regrets at not being able to succeed where the select few have; in the battle for survival that is the Japanese educational system. Kimura’s story presents the sad realities of a failed child prodigy, providing a glimpse into the realizations of a lost dream; the grim follow-up to Field’s first education model. It was my dream. Going to the nationals was everything. […] I should’ve pitched that curve, just like the catcher told me. […] If there was one pitch you couldn’t take back, you think it’d be possible to…take it back?32

32 Blue Spring. Dir. Toshiaki Toyoda.

While speaking to a freshman baseball player, Kimura divulges his sentiments following the “lost pitch” that most likely cost him his national career. Like most sport prodigies, Kimura had given up on the futile, competitive pursuits of education, and having thusly

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placed his life’s work in the hands of a dream to join the professional teams, he was left essentially with nothing more to aspire to. In this moment of desperation, Kimura gets approached by his presumed acquaintance, a member of the Yakuza, asking if he would like to “join up.” Having just witnessed his friend being dragged away by four police officers, and taking one final glance at the run-down school, the failing baseball program, and the king at the top of his tower, his response: “Good timing, sir,” seemed all too fitting. Handing his school jacket to his freshman baseball underling Kimura utters his final orders: “You better make it to the nationals and get it [my youth] back.” In one of the more explicit affirmations of failed aspirations, Kimura’s soliloquy as he walks towards his new future with the Yakuza seems to wholly encompass the notion of a constricted future and the shikatanai, (lit. “It can’t be helped”) mentality in the face of an overly competitive, schematized societal structure:

Staked my 33 Blue Spring. Dir. Toshiaki Toyoda. whole youth on baseball, my only goal the nationals. In this shit hole of a school, baseball was my only flower. I staked my life on my bat, my dreams on my pitches. Watch me make the spirit of baseball bloom. […] Even if my body is broken, and all my tears and sweat dry up, my dream remains, The Nationals. No regrets for my youth.33 It was because of the one simple mistake; throwing a fastball rather that a curveball, that deemed Kimura unworthy of representing his nation, and subsequently signalled his transition from baseball prodigy, to highschool delinquent, to Yakuza gang member; another victim of the narrow horizons restricted by global capitalist competition. In this final tragedy of lost youth, the gang leader Kujō and his friend-turned-rival Aoki fully epito-

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mise the struggle to attain something of worth within the confines of a seemingly unattainable future. Kujō, the winner of the “clapping game,” beating Yukio, Kimura, and Aoki with eight claps, seemed all too disillusioned with the rat-race of the Japanese educational enterprise, and although he would inquire as to the futures of his friends, he himself was guilty of not having a response. In a one-on-one conversation with Aoki, Kujō asks the same question he later asked Yukio: “What’re you doing after you graduate? Work? College?” Aoki then bluntly replies: “We’ll never make it to college. […] I mean, we’re cutting class right now, man.” When speaking with the school gardener, the only character who seemed to hold some sense of compassion and caring for the children, Kujō admittedly stated that: “People who know what they want scare me.” Not willing to face up to the realities of society, where failure most certainly means a bleak existence, Kujō preferred to remain in his utopia, perched peacefully atop the school tower. When asked by Yukio if he liked school, Kujō responded: “Yeah, it’s like heaven here,” to which Yukio somewhat sarcastically responded, “Hmm…well, must be hard to figure out your future at that rate. Too bad for you.” Kujō’s childhood friend, Aoki, as well as being the final member of the four “clappers,” wanted nothing more than to remain alongside Kujo; to “go make money on a tuna fishing boat,” but was ultimately shunned for being overly dependent and for “leaning on [Kujō] for everything.” This turn of events is somewhat analogous to the realities facing most high school students, that nothing can be taken for granted and, like how one fastball can cost a national career, a dream once held in high regard can come crashing under the pressures of survival within a neoliberal system. Such a bleak reality pays homage to how in the world of fierce global competition, you can only truly depend on yourself; “survival of the fittest.”

In assessing the tragedies of the pressures imposed by the mass conformist society and the “education industry,” I immediately think back to Aoki’s final stand in proving that he could best Kujō. In realizing he could never attain his true dream of becoming a pilot, Aoki felt he could nonetheless attain some form of recognition for his existence. During a rather violent confrontation with Kujō, Aoki, in an outburst of rage from Kujō’s lack of recognition for his true sentiments, proclaimed that he would accomplish something his friend could not; a task he would stake his life on to realize. In the final scene of the film, realizing Aoki intends on taking his own life to essentially “become all that he can be,” Kujō frantically races to the top of the school, trying desperately to save his wayward friend. As Aoki holds to the railing of the school roof, gazing at the sky, he views his dream, a passenger jet, literally flying over his head, close enough to capture the details of the wings, and the roar of the massive engines, but left unattainable as if it was nothing more than a fleeting thought; the realization of the futility of nonconformity. When Kujō burst open the door to the school’s rooftop, he runs past what would be Aoki’s ultimate affirmation of existence; his dying achievement: 13 claps: Aoki, 34 Blue Spring. Dir. Toshiaki Toyoda. spray-painted in large, bold letters. Kujō arrives at the tower platform just in time to view his friend plummeting to the ground, clapping and counting as he falls. The film concludes with Kujō, standing on the school rooftop, staring down at Aoki’s triumphant “shadow,”34 arms elevated to the sky, sprayed to the ground in heavy black paint; his one, true accomplishment.

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Countless films, books, and various other media manage to capture this widely criticized, highly publicised phenomenon of youth violence and the trials and tribulations of growing up under neoliberal educational reforms. Here we can refer to Shunji Iwai’s All About Lily Chou-Chou, another film that depicts the brutalities of school violence, bullying, prostitution, suicide, and rape. In the final scene of the film, where student Yūichi Hasumi’s teacher is looking over his recent “crash landing” of grades, the reason she speculates for such a fault represents the commonly accepted terms for the disparity of the students which she believes could be summed in a brief dialogue:

from the issues affecting her students is analogous to the implementation of the neoliberal educational reforms. Intended on empowering the individual by placing the responsibilities of education into their “capable” hands, while at the same time, being oblivious, or rather, reluctant to attest to the adverse effects that strip children of their youth, the educational reforms have forced their students to carry the heavy burden of their futures. The dissolution of the widelypropagated dream of prosperity and security within home, society, and nation, as well as the “narrowing of the horizon” for Japanese youth is proving to be the downfall of a desperate student society. With such strong pressure to conform and perform within the dictated norms of their standardized education, the students begin to “fall off the charts,” deviating from what is “expected” of them, and what they have been conditioned to achieve. Becoming delinquents and resorting to bullying and abuse represents their only true outlet, however violent and destructive it may be, in attaining a sense of dominance and “achievement” in their desperate battle for survival. —DC

Soon you’ll have to focus on your high-school entrance exams, but you try to have fun while you still can. So, your marks fall off. And the worse they get, the less you want to study. So you give up.35

35 Blue Spring. Dir. Toshiaki Toyoda.

The seemingly overplayed, widely established interpretation behind youth failures has been engrained in the workings of the educational society, so much so that the teacher delivers her assessment as if rehearsed. This broad understatement of the student condition represents the inability, or rather, the “selective perception” of the educational community who refuses to delve deeper into further possibilities for the crucial situation facing their students who, in desperation, see no future worth fighting for. When confronted with a case of “out-and-out bullying” by a group of girls against another student, Kuno, for being elected to play piano in the choir, the teacher’s response, although genuine in her caring, seemed somewhat lacking in her comprehension and hence understanding to the reasoning behind such actions: “I wonder why they can’t sing with Kuno? […] Why do they have to do that [bully others]?” The separation of the teacher

Notes Abe, Kōbo. “The Bet,” Beyond the Curve. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1991. Adorno, Theodor & Horkheimer, Max. “The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception,” The Consumer Society Reader. New York: The New Press, 2000. All About Lily Chou-Chou. Dir.

Shunji Iwai. Perf. Hayato Ichihara, Shūgo Oshinari, Ayumi Ito, Takao Osawa. DVD. Rockwell Eyes Inc., 2001. Arai, Andrea G. “Killing kids: recession and survival in twenty-first century Japan,” Postcolonial Studies 6.3(2003): 367–379. Blue Spring. Dir. Toshiaki Toyoda. Perf. Ryuhei Matsuda,

Hirofumi Arai, Sosuke Takaoka, Yusuke Oshiba. DVD. Omega Micott Inc., 2001. Field, Norma. “The Child as Laborer and Consumer: The Disappearance of Childhood in Contemporary Japan,” Children and the Politics of Culture. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995.

38 By Erina Aoyama

Ambiguity as Spectacle Ambiguity as Spectacle Encounters with the Myth of Japanese Monoethnicity

As a child visiting my father’s hometown in rural Japan, I always knew that I somehow did not fit in. Even mundane activities, such as grocery shopping, became a showcase for my sister and I whenever we ran into my father’s former neighbors or classmates. Looking back, I could chalk up the initial comments of, “Oh, they are so cute!” to our young selves—these were comments made toward any young children. As I got older, howevert, the comments shifted more towards questions of “Is that her real hair color?”, and I realized that these comments were directed at my biraciality. It was not by virtue of being raised outside of Japan (though this may have been a part of it), but it was the fact that my physical features were different which separated me from the ethnically Japanese. The first biracial Japanese celebrity I was introduced to was Angela Aki, a popular singer born from a Japanese father and an American mother, and once I was aware of this subset of biracial entertainers, I found myself beginning to notice them more and more. I saw biracial individuals appear in all segments of Japanese popular culture: music, movies, television shows, and other media. In recent years, why were these individuals, who were previously noted for their differences, being accepted into an industry notoriously critical in its evaluations of physical appearance and personal conduct? This initial curiosity led me through an examination of numerous facets of Japanese society, eventually from which I gained an understanding of the nebulous connection between ethnicity, national identity, and the history of minorities in Japan.

A striking example of the struggles for a biracial individual in Japanese society is shown by Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu, born to an American father and a Japanese mother, who later naturalized to become Japanese. A particularly prolific writer on the biracial experience in Japan, he details several instances in which he had faced incredulousness surrounding his identity: When I showed 1 Murphy-Shigematsu, Stephen. “‘The invisible her my passport, man’ and other narratives of the young emliving in the borderlands of ployee at the airrace and nation,” Transcultural line’s counter Japan, edited by David Blake Willis and Stephen Murphywas so surprised Shigematsu, 282–304. that she couldn’t New York: Routledge, 2008. stop herself from blurting out, “You’re Japanese?” I just looked at her and let the document speak for itself…At a baseball game, all my Japanese friends got programs in Japanese, while I was given one printed in English, along with a friendly “Haro.”1 Beyond mere curiosity as to his ethnicity and identity, he has also faced outright discrimination:

…it did bother 2 Murphy-Shigematsu, Stephen. “‘The invisible man’ me when the real and other narratives of estate agent in living in the borderlands of Tokyo simply race and nation.” crossed his arms and blocked the entrance to his office refusing to even speak with me. I became angry when another who did allow me in told me that an apartment I was interested in was not available because the landlord would not rent to foreigners. I told him that I was Japanese. He smiled and

Orientations, Volume 8 said that I might be Japanese in ancestry and nationality, but I didn’t look Japanese and therefore might upset the neighbors.2

It is clear from Murphy-Shigematsu’s experiences that the long-standing equation of ethnicity with Japanese identity often results in marginalization of biracial individuals, excluding them from Japanese society. Participants in a study done through Keio University echo Murphy-Shigematsu’s experience as an outsider, discussing the occasions of being stared at, pointed at, and even having their ethnicity discussed in front of them. Individuals who were JapaneseKorean or Japanese-Chinese, who may not be immediately identified as biracial, also recall being treated differently when others discovered they had one nonJapanese parent. Others who are distinguished more quickly by their appearances relate experiences of being called gaijin (foreigner) and the associated assumptions: that they do not speak Japanese and do not understand Japanese customs when, in fact, Japanese is their first and only language and Japan is the only home they have ever known. Biracial individuals also found that they were more harshly criticized when their actions differed even slightly from the norm. These differences were immediately linked to their ethnic differences, and as such, their Japanese parents often felt the need to ensure that their children behaved even more properly to compensate for their perceived lack of ethnic “Japaneseness.” Based on the gradual increase in international marriages in Japan, however, we begin to notice that this minority population is, in fact, growing. And concurrent to this rise in interethnic or interracial marriages, we also see the rise of the biracial celebrity. Names that indicate a cross-pollination of Japanese and non-Japanese jump out on game shows; faces with larger eyes, longer noses, and light brown hair (not procured from a box) peer out from magazine

Ambiguity as Spectacle

covers. In the streets of Tokyo’s trendy Shibuya district, songs blaring from loudspeakers on trucks advertising musical groups reveal excellently accented English as well as Japanese. In contrast to the exclusion that many biracial individuals had felt in their daily lives in the past, the Japanese public has been increasingly embracing biracial singers, actors, models, and other entertainers. The visibility of these biracial entertainers has caused some to assert that biracial individuals may be, in fact, overrepresented in the entertainment industry. Paradoxically, what appears to make these individuals so popular are, at least in part, the physical features that distinguish them from the ethnically “pure” Japanese population (and which single out other biracial Japanese for marginal treatment): lighter hair or eyes, and longer limbs. Some modeling and talent agencies even advertise their work with biracial models and tarento (entertainers) under a separate category from their mainstream counterparts. The fascination with biracial celebrities’ ethnicity is, in fact, critical to their success, which is at odds with Japan’s history of marginalization of minority others. According to historical definitions of “Japaneseness,” biracial Japanese are at a crossroads of ethnic and cultural characteristics that mark them as both Japanese and non-Japanese. This is not the first time that such long-held characterizations have been challenged, but it does very much mark the first partial recognition of this “Other.” While the rise of the biracial celebrity may be the most visible evidence of Japan’s diverse society, it is critical to recognize that this is not a new phenomenon. Japan’s long history of ethnic minorities and society’s continued disregard— even widespread ignorance—of these groups can both offer a view into past and current treatment of minorities as well as a better understanding of the Japanese national identity, and the tensions between culture and ethnicity within this identity.

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Bibliography “Ayaka Wilson Sugar and Spice [Child Actor Production]” アヤカ・ウイルソンシュガーアンドスパイス【子役プロダクション】子役情報、子役オーディション、ºプロダクション情報 (Child Actor Information, Child Actor Auditions, Production Information), http:// koyaku.livedoor. biz/archives/ 64657245.html (accessed 22 May 2008). Doak, Kevin M. “What Is a Nation and Who Belongs? National Narratives and the Ethnic Imagination in Twentieth-Century Japan,” The American Historical Review 102 (1997): 283–309. Gottlieb, Nanette. “Japan,” Language & National Identity in Asia, edited by Andrew Simpson, 186–199. New York: Oxford University Press, 2007. Kashiwazaki, Chikako. “The politics of legal status: The Equation of Nationality with Ethnonational

Identity,” Koreans in Japan: Critical voices from the Margin, edited by Sonia Ryang, 13–31. New York: Routledge, 2000. Lie, John. Multiethnic Japan. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2001. Murphy-Shigematsu, Stephen. “Diverse Forms of Minority National Identities in Japan’s Multicultural Society,” Japan’s Diversity Dilemmas, edited by Soo im Lee, Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu, Harumi Befu, 75–99. New York: iUniverse, 2006. Murphy-Shigematsu, Stephen. “‘The invisible man’ and other narratives of living in the borderlands of race and nation,” Transcultural Japan, edited by David Blake Willis and Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu, 282–304. New York: Routledge, 2008 Oikawa, Sara

and Tomoko Yoshida. “An Identity Based on Being Different,” International Journal of Intercultural Relations 31 (2007): 633–653. Pyle, Kenneth. “Introduction: Some Recent Approaches to Japanese Nationalism,” The Journal of Asian Studies 31 (1971): 5–16. Ryang, Sonia. “Introduction,” Koreans in Japan: Critical voices from the Margin, edited by Sonia Ryang, 1–12. New York: Routledge, 2000. Sellek, Yoko. “Nikkeijin: The phenomenon of Return Migration,” Japan’s Minorities, edited by Michael Weiner, 178–210. New York: Routledge, 1997. Siddle, Richard. “Ainu: Japan’s indigenous people,“ Japan’s Minorites, edited by Michael Weiner, 17–49. New York: Routledge, 1997. Sjoberg, Katarina. “Positioning oneself in the

43 Japanese nation state: The Hokkaido Ainu case,” Transcultural Japan, edited by David Blake Willis and Stephen Murphy-Shigematsu, 197–216. New York: Routledge, 2008. Stevens, Carolyn S., Japanese Popular Music: Culture, authenticity, and power. New

By Ted Smith

York: Routledge, 2008. Taira, Koji. “Troubled national identity: Okinawans,” Japan’s Minorities, edited by Michael Weiner, 140–177. New York: Routledge, 1997. Vasishth, Andrea. “A model minority: the Chinese community in Japan,” Japan’s Minorities, edited by Michael

Weiner, 108–139. New York: Routledge, 1997. Weiner, Michael. “The representation of absence and the absence of representation: Korean hibakusha,” Japan’s Minorities, edited by Michael Weiner, 79–107. New York: Routledge, 1997.

Travelogue

I sat in the chair adjacent to Mr. Kim with a glass of shōchu, intermittently watching the rocks break up in the clear cold liquid through the beady summer condensation on the glass. Soon-Mi ran back and forth, depositing her excess of articles from the living room to her old bedroom, fretting skittishly about her mother who’d apparently driven off to the station to get us about five minutes before we arrived by taxi. Slowly, Mr. Kim addressed me, in a very calm, but markedly interrogative tone. He wore a thin, interested smile and asked a very standard battery of questions: How long have I been in Japan? What am I doing here? Where do I go to school? How do I like the weather here? What brought me to Ibaraki? I conducted the liquor in and the words out of my mouth at equal paces, and considered my tone and my words for every specific case. I was intimidated by this man. Not only was he my girlfriend’s daddy (which is a pretty big deal for me), but he also was way smarter than me and had the book collection and the hardware to prove it.

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Soon-Mi had told me he held a PhD in physics from the University of Kyoto. The corridor between the atrium and the living room was encased on either side by parallel installments of 9-foot bookshelves, which housed the largest private library I’d ever seen in this country. Humble editions of all kinds of books: Japanese classics, histories, biographies of notable national heroes (many of whom would now be called imperialists), scientific journals, and translations of famous foreign works, a great deal of which I’d never read—mostly Russians and Germans, some English, few French. No Korean. That intrigued me. I’d made a point of exploring his book collection when he came down the stairs and first saw me. He was the archetypal image of the Japanese intellectual, right down to the haircut. Japanese was his mother language and the tongue of his fathers, Korean, he’d never been taught formally I was told, nor ever excelled beyond the conversational practice of it. His house was filled with Japanese cultural artifacts: A bonsai tree, kendō swords, Hanshin Tigers baseball paraphernalia; there were Japanese vinyls on the shelves in his living room, Japanese dishware in his kitchen. Only the aluminum bats and the scattered, worn out Mizuno gloves along with the prominent green bottle of shōchu on the cabinet next to the television seemed to lend themselves out between the island nation of his birth and the peninsular nation of his blood. And yet this was a man who insisted so strongly on his Korean identity. He had forsaken the right to vote and forever excluded himself from the privied “in-group” of the society he was born and raised in, only for the sake of keeping his last name. Name. My name, “Theodore Daniel”—from my namesake grandfathers, paternal and maternal respectively. “Smith”—an Anglicization of either Schmidt or Schwartzawald, there’s some contention in the older members of my dad’s family as to which. When my father’s grand-

father stepped off the boat from Lithuania onto Ellis Island in 1897 he was given that name to help along his integration. A new name, a new start. An immigrant’s story in America. 名字。”Myouji”. Family name. 金。김。キム。Kim. Her name, his name. 金田。Kaneda. #34 Pitcher: Kaneda Shouichi, 1950– 1964 Kokutetsu Swallows (now the Yakult Swallows) where he threw the only perfect game in Japanese professional baseball history, 1965–1969 Yomiuri Giants (V9 glory days, retired his jersey in ’70) Winner of the coveted Sawamura award three times, 4490 strikeouts over 5526 2/3 innings, the only player to ever reach 400 wins in Japan. A true Japanese hero—when he succeeded. When he failed (298 career losses)—or worse, when he lost his temper (8 career ejections, a record unbroken until Tuffy Rhodes did it in 2005)— he was a Korean. 金本。Kanemoto. #6 Left fielder: Kanemoto Tomoaki, 1992–2002 Hiroshima Carp, 2003– present Hanshin Tigers! (Aniki!) 1187 runs, 3566 hits, 1216 RBI, 394 Home Runs. Overall batting average .292, Slugging PCT .524—a fan favorite all over the country and beloved emblem of Japanese manliness. What both of these men have in common is that their real last names are “Kim.” Sired by Zainichi Koreans in the Japanese heartland, Aichi, Hiroshima—places just like the three people who were now sitting around me at the dinner table. But the inaugural and impending baseball hall of famers had changed theirs to improve their marketability. I wonder what he thought of that. I recall making that post on Soon-Mi’s mixi, the time she had written a diary entry about her identity crisis triggered by the discovery that she had been mispronouncing her own name for 21 years. I said something gushy and quoted Shakespeare: “A rose by any other name…” the literary allusion was probably lost, but charm remained, she told me later, and I slightly helped in reassuring her that she was still she however

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Travelogue

confused she was about Hang’ul pronunciation rules— after all what’s in a name? Eight months later, after learning to appreciate the possibilities offered by “lateral histories” and “living existentially”, I started to realize: what’s in a name? Everything. The names we give things, the phrasing we use, the stories we tell are what is used to construct our reality; and this myth of substance and the possibilities of identity that arise from a simple change in the name are incredible. Change her name. That’s all she, or she, or he would have to do to become a naturalized citizen in this country. I thought about Kaneda and Kanemoto and Soon-Mi’s older brother who’d “almost gone to Koshien” back when he played high school ball. The thought of watching your son grow up and wear somebody else’s last name on the back of their jersey. I wondered how my greatgrandfather could have possibly stood it. Her mother stood up and served another round of beer, the third, and we talked a great deal of many things. Their voices were thick with their Kansai accents and an inebriated drawl. I recounted my alleged year of learning in Soon-Mi’s college (Mr. Kim was surprised to learn that Musabi offered language courses to overseas non-fine arts students) and our introduction, our travels in Canada, the hockey game, trying comically to get Soon-Mi to dance at the jazz concert, skiing and house parties. Her mother was amused, and perhaps a little charmed by the small gaijin at her dinner table with his animated storytelling and shitty haircut. Her father repeatedly surprised me with great bursts of laughter. I felt I was doing something right. Slowly, Soon-Mi’s started to smile. I spent half my silence trying to attribute parts of Soon-Mi’s face to either parent. Her nose, she got from her father, while her chin clearly came from her mother. Aside from that, the evening dim robbed me of my better perception. I spoke at length with him about baseball and the Tigers that season. I produced my Randy Bass jersey

and Soon-Mi took her seat at the piano and played as we all sang “Rokko Oroshi.” Part way into her second or third song, her father became excited and scampered off to the hallways and called shortly for his foot-ladder. I watched Soon-Mi’s back as she hovered over their old black upright piano, bobbing and stretching her slender arms like a crane as the warm, liquored notes she made washed out from recesses of the study. He came back after a while with a Japanese copy of Robert Whiting’s “Chrysanthemum and the Bat.” I had long known of this bizarre mirror of Orientalism that the Japanese view themselves in, I’ll quote my own essay from my Japanese literature class: It is a kind of cross-cultural version of the observer effect: If the culture being examined happens to be one that is literate, and connected to the print world where studies of this culture are being disseminated, sooner or later these studies will make their way back to this culture in translation. In what ways does the study of a culture impact the ways that culture forms itself? It is a well acknowledged fact in the current discourse of Japanese studies that the Japanese mind is well aware of how the rest of the world (most specifically, Americans) perceives it and this greatly effects its self perception. In a paper a year before that one I’d argued that the legend of baseball samurais had permeated from somewhere out of the Meiji Romances into Japanese culture during the V9 Giants and was actually just another glorified stereotype that needs to be debunked about Japan. I now believe that it was Robert Whiting who ironically created the myth of the “Japanese Baseball player” with his catchy “bushido” lingo and his polarized east-west view of the baseball universe in the post-war. I opened the covers and began to scan for

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errors in the translation and flipped to the section on Shouichi “The Emperor” Kaneda. He pointed at the name on the page: 「金田正一」...“Korean” he said with a proud smile. Soon-Mi played her piano while Mr. Kim pulled more books off the shelves of his library, enticed by my enthusiasm for Japanese novels, asking me my favorites. He read me the opening passage of “Maihime: the dancing girl”: 石炭をば早や積み果てつ。中等室の卓のほとりはいと静にて、熾熱燈の光の晴れがましきも徒なり。今宵は夜毎にこゝに集ひ来る骨牌仲間も「ホテル」に宿りて、舟に残れるは余一人のみなれば。

He hadn’t a copy of Tayama Katai’s “Futon” on his shelves. He’d read it. He didn’t recall it. He was impressed that I knew it. Our book talk, of course, was too brief to solve any of my problems of conscience, or poetic authority, or narrative voice and the writer’s block that was preventing me from making any progress on any of that. It did get me thinking though. These new problems of name, and national identity, and a fresh look at the way “race” affects either branched a new mental vein which followed me up to the end of summer. When I got back to Montreal and school started, I enrolled in beginners Korean class and dove back enthusiastically into my research of baseball and colonialism—but I’m getting ahead of myself again. A drawn out gap in our philosophic words let Soon-Mi’s music tide back towards us. Mr. Kim yawned, and adjusted his body to face his daughter who was turned away from him, secluded with her piano. His definitively-Korean-nose and cheeks glowed with a father’s love. Though perhaps it was only the drink. Soon-Mi’s mother leaned in to me and asked me in a giddly, quiet, gossipy voice, a question I’m sure she’d been waiting an hour to ask: “Ne…Soon-Mi, dono bun ga suki nano?” What is it I like about Soon-Mi? I guessed the game was up. We’d been seen through I supposed, but I wasn’t nervous to answer for some

49 reason. I guess I was really drunk. “She’s funny.” I said, “And she tries really hard. And...she speaks her mind —and I love it when she plays the piano…because she looks so happy when she does it.” It seemed to me an insufficient explanation. I guess I’d never heard it out loud before. She smiled affectionately and nodded her head and nodded again and put her hand on my shoulder and smiled larger and nodded again. I still haven’t figured out what that meant exactly, but I kind of just get it, you know? —TS

By Stuart Agnew

Theoretical Approaches to the Reunification of the Korean Peninsula

It is, for international relations scholars, a difficult task to link theory to empirical evidence; as Richard K. Herrmann points out international relations theorists “made substantial strides in connecting theory to past historical events but have made rather little use of theory to predict the future.”1 Thus, this essay 1 Herrmann, Richard K. “Linking Theory to Evidence in seeks to debate “not International Relations,” Handpredict” the possibility of book of International Relations, Korean reunification edited by Walter Carlsnaes, through the lens of InterThomas Risse and Beth A. Simmons. London, Sage: 2002. national Relations theory. One of the principle aims of this essay is to show the effectiveness of I.R. theory when applied to an empirical case. Therefore, this essay seeks to investigate the difficulties and opportunities for Korean reunification through international relations theory.

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The first part of this essay will evaluate the difficulties of reunification. The brunt of the argument will focus attention from realism and neo-realism approaches with specific attention to sub-strands such as the issue of relative gains versus absolute gains and the security dilemma. The second part of this essay will evaluate the opportunities of reunification, taking the liberal approach with specific attention given to theoretical sub-strands such as the liberal institutionalism argument, collective security, and democratic peace theory. From this, the essay seeks to steer away from the realist and liberal traditions of I.R. theory and assess social constructivist theory in relation to the question of Korean reunification. To its eventual end, the essay hopes to have offered a critical and comparative theoretical approach to the Korean question. Lastly, this essay seeks to establish which approach is best to assess a Korean resolution and in a correlative sense, establish which theoretical approach is best for conflict resolution in general. There are many difficulties to the prospect of Korean reunification, especially when one takes into account the half-century long divide between North Korea (DPRK) and South Korea (ROK). For most contemporary neo-realist writers there is little prospect for Korean reunification. Even since the break up of the Soviet Union, strains and latent hostilities are still rife in Korea and there are two main factors which continue to make co-operation difficult for Korean reunification. One of the key realist positions is that international politics exist in a condition of anarchy and subsequently with no overshadowing central authority the prospect of deceit is always present.2 Thus, neo-realists like Kenneth Waltz and John 2 Dunne, Tim and Brian C. Mearsheimer argue that Schmidt. “Realism,” The there are “distinct limits Globalisation of World Politics, to co-operation because edited by John Baylis and states have always been Steve Smith. Oxford University Press, 2001: p. 143. and remain, fearful” that

the opposing side will 3 Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the double back on any Post-Cold War Era,” The agreements reached and Globalisation of World Politics, attempt to gain advanedited by John Baylis and tages over the other Steve Smith. Oxford University Press, 2001: p. 258. party or on the agreement itself.3 Kim Myong Chol reveals this fear in “Kim Jong Il’s Perspectives on the Korean Question.” North Korea’s leader Kim Jong Il identifies the “gunboat diplomacy” of the United States as the root cause of Korea’s problem. Kim argues that the Koreans have no cause or hate to fight each other. The trouble is, however, that South Korea is a vassal of the United States, which sees treating North Korea as its main enemy to be its fundamental raison d’être.4 Kim Myong 4 Chol, Kim Myong. “Kim Jong Il’s Perspectives on Chol—a notable journalist the Korean Question,” Brown with a reputation for Journal of World Affairs, defending Pyongyang’s Volume 8, (2001–2002), edited position—is not alone by James Fichter: p. 2. 5 Beeson, Mark. Regionalism in this debate. Mark Beeson & Globalisation in East Asia: agrees that ”from the Politics, Security, and Ecooutset, the ROK was a pronomic Development. Palgrave duct of American heMacmillan, 2007: p. 112. gemony and was only defined in opposition to the communist regime in the North.”5 Therefore, Korean reunification must be a result of intra-Korean reconciliation, with unity and cooperation, free from any foreign interference. The image of mistrust of the U.S hinders any co-operation in this case and confirms the realist theory of Mearsheimer, Waltz and others that co-operation is impossible in a climate of fear and mistrust. Mearsheimer argues further that this mistrust and fear of deception is wholly incompatible with co-operation. “Such a development,” Mearsheimer

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argues, ”could create a window of opportunity for the cheating side to inflict a decisive defeat on the victim state.”6 Kim would lead us to believe that the DPRK is the victim state in this case and therefore would never relinquish her nuclear capabilities due to the perceived threat of the United States. Kim does however illustrate that the very same mistrust works in the opposite direction. The perception—particularly from the U.S.—is that the DPRK seeks to maximise her relative gains and cannot be trusted. The U.S. sees a “tiny mountainous state” that has built up its conventional warfare capabilities far beyond its needs; a “national fortress” with the ability to annihilate any opponent and with the ability to withstand a nuclear attack. At the same time, the DPRK’s expansive black market does nothing to calm Washington’s fears 7 Chol, Kim Myong. “Kim Jong Il’s Perspectives on the or mistrust.7 UnfortuKorean Question,” p. 3. nately, realist theories or stances offer no hope for reunification or in a broader sense, co-operation or security and enchain a negative take on the status quo. Another approach from the realpolitik school is the issue of relative versus absolute gains. In the case of Korean reunification and similar to the theory of fear and mistrust, opposing sides like the two Koreas tend to be concerned with relative rather than absolute gains, which hinders co-operation. Instead of being interested in co-operation because, it will benefit both North and South Korea, the two sides, under this theory will always have to be aware of how much they are gaining compared to the other. From this point of view, the two Koreas will, for the foreseeable future be attempting to maximise their gains in a competitive, mistrustful, and uncertain way. This is a key realist approach and in relation to a possible Korean reunifica-

tion, it is problematic. I take the example of Kim Jong Il’s lack of reciprocation (or return visit to Seoul for that matter) to Kim Dae Jung’s “sunshine policy” and visit to Pyongyang in the early 2000s.8 Indeed, co8 Pollack, Jonathan D. “Korean Unification: Illusion operation or reunification or Aspiration,” Brown Journal seems very difficult of World Affairs, Volume 8, to achieve considering (2001–2002), edited by James this realist/neorealist Fichter: p. 78. approach. Korea is an obvious example of the security dilemma at work; the two Koreas face an irresolvable uncertainty about the military preparations made by one another. Both the DPRK and the ROK second-guess each other’s military build-up as an aggressive plan rather than a defensive build-up. Insecurity breeds further insecurity with nuclear war on the horizon.9 The security 9 Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the dilemma, like many realPost-Cold War Era,” p. 257–258. ist/neo-realist substrands, offers only a pessimistic outlook and it essentially explains the suspicion and mistrust. It does not give hope to conflict resolution or reunification for the Korean peninsula; it only highlights the growing mistrust between the two sides. The best rectifiable solution in this case is the six-party talks—possibly mirrored on divided Germany’s “two-plus-four” talks10 —the talks can (with luck) 10 Rhee, Kang Suk. “Korea’s Unification: The Applicability overcome the realist of the German Experience,” blockades such as the Asian Survey, edited by. Vol. security dilemma 33, No. 4 (April 1993): p. 61–62. between the two Koreas and achieve peace on the peninsula. John Mearsheimer, however, in his article “Back to the future” would see the current situation in Korea as peaceful and in typical realist/neorealist fashion implies that things could be far worse. Korea too, like

6 Measheimer, John J. “The False Promise of International Institutions,” International Security, Volume 19, No. 3 (Winter, 1994–1995): p. 20.

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post-communist Eastern Europe could burst into instability and conflict—much like the Korean War itself— in an attempt to reunify. International Relations theorists in the liberal tradition, by contrast, have always been more optimistic in comparison to their realist counterparts. Neoliberalists say that less state aggression can achieve co-operation, diplomacy, and in this case reunification. Liberal institutionalists would share the conviction that the developing pattern of institutionalized co-operation between the DPRK and ROK could open up unprecedented opportunities to achieve greater security on the peninsula and consequently open up greater possibilities for Korean reunification. In this regard, Rhee takes the example of the $3 billion planned special economic zone in the Tuman River by North Korea. At the time of this proposal, southern enterprises wanted to join the program, along with other countries such as China, the United States, 11 Rhee, Kang Suk. Rhee, Kang Suk. “Korea’s Unification: Russia, Japan, and MongoThe Applicability of the Gerlia under the supervision of man Experience,” p. 369–370. the United Nations Development Program (UNDP).11 Seemingly, what the Korean peninsula needs is not immediate regime change but grassroots developments and European style economic and political institutions, which in turn could overcome traditional hostilities. Takashi Inoguchi reaffirms Rhee’s position arguing that the two Koreas need a “Westphalian scenario,” which can overcome the negative legacy of the past.12 This view challenges the neorealist views of Mearsheimer and 12 Inoguchi, Takashi. “The Politics of Korean Unification: others and believes that Three Scenarios,” Brown international institutions Journal of World Affairs, Voare effective in the world of lume 8, (2001–2002) edited security and conflict resoby James Fichter: p. 2. lution and in this particular case, reunification.

Besides liberal institutionalism, there are other liberal approaches to take into account whilst considering potential opportunities for Korean reunification. Democratic Peace theory, as with “liberal institutionalism” is a notion, which has received wide support in Western political and academic circles.13 Democratic Peace theory does not readily apply to Korea, as 13 Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the it, according to Michael Post-Cold War Era,” p. 257–258. Doyle calls for “demo14 Baylis, John. cratic representation, 15 Doyle, Michael W. “On the ideological commitment Democratic Peace,” International Security, Volume 19, No. to human rights, and 4, (1995) pp. 164–184. transnational interdependence.” These criteria, Doyle argues provide an explanation for the “peace-prone” tendencies of democratic states.14, 15 The problem with this approach in the Korean case and in many cases is that it calls for democratisation as the deterrent to conflict and upholder of “perpetual peace,”16 which is only an end in itself. Therefore, it is relatively 16 Kant, Immanuel. Perpetual Peace. London: G. Allen & useless unless a partiUnwin, 1903: p. 1795. cular regime is democratic; it offers no road map to democratisation or any alternative to an “all democratic” world for the prevalence of peace, which is not historical and contemporary political reality. For the peaceful reunification of Korea, such a theory is also useless as it merely puts a gold tint at the end of what would be an economically, structurally, and ideologically painful process of reunification. The only hope for Doyle, Russett and others is that their theory presents a glamorous, peaceful end, which may be enough motivation for a rogue state to adopt democratic tendencies. The DPRK wants to retain a certain degree of power, with or without the South and to that end compromise, not ideological visions, rectifies or initiates peace, conflict resolution, and reunification.

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The Reunification of Korea

The final analysis of liberal approaches lies in collective security. Collective security, theorists argue, declares that it is possible to move beyond the self-help world of realism. In Korea’s case this would call for a number of basic conditions—both the DPRK and the ROK must renounce the use of military force to alter the status quo or specifically call for the joint demilitarisation of the 38th parallel and Panmunjom. Furthermore, the two must essentially broaden their view of national interest to take in the interests of the international community and evolve to—as Barry Buzan’s argues— a state of “mature anarchy.”17 In the DPRK’s case, 17 Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the that would entail recogniPost-Cold War Era,” p. 260. tion of the United States and the United Nations in perhaps, a temporary role. This liberalist approach however, is according to Mearsheimer inescapably flawed as both North Korea and South Korea would find it difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish between 18 Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the the “aggressor” and the Post-Cold War Era,” p. 272. “victim” in international 19 Measheimer, John J. conflict.18, 19 “The False Promise of InternaLastly, social tional Institutions,” p. 5. constructivism may have something to offer to explain the Korean dilemma. Social constructivist theorists continue to build the bridge between power politics and the world of reflectivist ideas and can also offer added insight into the question of Korean reunification. Applying the basic premise of social constructivism, which is realigning the way theorists think about I.R., can potentially benefit greater international security.20 Understandably, this approach may prove difficult 20 Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the to evaluate as concerns Post-Cold War Era,” p. 265. the Korean question. Nevertheless let us evaluate

what abstract social approaches can offer to the prospects of reunification. Alexander Wendt argues that security is a social structure composed of inter-subjective understandings in which states are so distrustful that they make worst-case assumptions about each other and as a result define their interests in 21 Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the self-help terms.21 Here I Post-Cold War Era,” p. 265. take Rhee’s example of the two Korean proposals for reunification in the 1990s. Both the DPRK and the ROK leaders have long pursued their policies of national reunification in terms of structural integration (Rhee, 366). Pyongyang has long proposed the establishment of a Democratic Confederate Republic of Korea (DCRK) while Seoul recently countered with a Korean National Community Unification Formula (KNCUF).22 22 Rhee, Kang Suk. Rhee, Kang Suk. “Korea’s Unification: Both proposals were reasonable considering the The Applicability of the German Experience,” p. 367. situation but both were seen largely as propaganda campaigns by both sides and were eventually shut down. Thus, the thinking here is that there is little room for reunification as there is a lack of emphasis on the structure of shared knowledge. In his study “Anarchy is what States make of it,” Wendt argues that security dilemmas and wars are the result of self-fulfilling prophecies. The logic of reciprocity means that states acquire a shared knowledge about the meaning of power and act accordingly.23 However, for some, the fact that structures are socially constructed does not necessarily mean that they can be changed. Wendt’s comment “some23 Baylis, John. “International times social structures so and Global Security in the constrain action that Post-Cold War Era,” p. 265. transformative strategies 24 Baylis, John. “International are impossible” sums and Global Security in the Post-Cold War Era,” p. 265. up this view.24 Many social

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constructivist writers, however, are more optimistic. They point to the changes in ideas introduced by Gorbachev during the second half of the 1980s, which led to a shared knowledge about the end of the Cold War. Once both sides accepted that the Cold War was over, it was really over. Perhaps Kim Myong Chol and others are not wrong in saying that the ROK has to cut loose the United States’ influence in the South. Such an act, from a social constructivist point of view, may allow the two Koreas to pursue policies of peaceful social change rather than engage in a perpetual competitive struggle for power and live in fear and mistrust as Wendt and others argue. In conclusion, International Relations theory offers an “after thought” with little passage to security, conflict resolution and in this particular case, reunification. However, as we have seen, many theories are difficult to nail down to specific empirical cases, as each case varies greatly. Realist approaches offer little or no hope to change or lack the means to alter current international insecurities whilst liberal approaches have a tendency to show how the situation would be better without offering a clear road map to attain that idealist scenario. To that end, social constructivism holds the greatest hope in that it does not deny current political realities but at the same time, it offers to deconstruct certain social structures to open new ways of thinking to political realities, which in turn offer new hopes for peace and resolution to long lasting conflicts. —SA Notes Baylis, John. “International and Global Security in the Post-Cold War Era,” The Globalisation of World Politics, edited by John Baylis and Steve Smith. Oxford University

Press, 2001. Beeson, Mark. Regionalism & Globalisation in East Asia: Politics, Security, and Economic Development. Palgrave Macmillan, 2007. Chol, Kim Myong. “Kim Jong

Il’s Perspectives on the Korean Question,” Brown Journal of World Affairs, Volume 8, (2001–2002), edited by James Fichter. Dunne, Tim and Brian C. Schmidt. “Realism,” The Glo-

The Reunification of Korea balisation of World Politics, edited by John Baylis and Steve Smith. Oxford University Press, 2001. Doyle, Michael W. “On the Democratic Peace,” International Security, Volume 19, No. 4, (1995) pp. 164–184. Harrison, Selig S. “Korean Endgame: A Strategy for Reunification and U.S. Disengagement,” Princeton University Press, 2003, The Journal of Asian Studies, review by Han S. Park. Volume 62, No. 3 (August, 2003), pp. 972–973. Inoguchi, Takashi. “The Politics of Korean Unification: Three Scenarios,” Brown Journal of World Affairs, Volume 8, (2001–2002) edited by James Fichter. Herrmann, Richard K. “Linking Theory to Evidence in International Relations,” Handbook of International Relations, edited by Walter Carlsnaes, Thomas Risse and Beth A. Simmons. London, Sage: 2002.

Kant, Immanuel. Perpetual Peace. London: G. Allen & Unwin, 1903. Measheimer, John J. “Back to the Future: Instability in Europe After the Cold War,” International Security, Volume 15, No. 1, (Summer, 1990), pp.5–56. Measheimer, John J. “The False Promise of International Institutions,” International Security, Volume 19, No. 3 (Winter, 1994–1995), pp. 5–49. McCann, David R. Korea Briefing: Toward Reunification. Asia Society, 1997. Pfenig, Werner. “Korea and Beyond: National Reunification has its International Implications,” Brown Journal of World Affairs, Volume 8, (2001– 2002), edited by James Fichter. Pollack, Jonathan D. “Korean Unification: Illusion or Aspiration,” Brown Journal of World Affairs, Volume 8, (2001– 2002), edited by

James Fichter. Rhee, Kang Suk. “Korea’s Unification: The Applicability of the German Experience,” Asian Survey, edited by. Vol. 33, No. 4 (April 1993), pp. 360–375. Takesada, Hideshi. “The Birth of a Unified Korea,” Brown Journal of World Affairs, Volume 8, (2001–2002), edited by James Fichter. Waltz, Kenneth. “Realist Thinking and Neorealist Theory,” Journal of International Conflict, Volume 44, No. 1 (1990). Wendt, Alexander. “Anarchy is what States make of it: the social construction of power politics,” International Organization, Volume 46, No. 2 (Spring, 1992), pp. 391–425. Yung-Hwan, Jo. “Political Futuristics for the Divided Nations in Asia: A Pre-Theory,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, Volume 114, No. 5 (Oct. 20, 1970), pp. 384–388.

60 Plates 1–10

Plates 1–10 In Reference to The Power of Sight on p. 1–16 by Samuel Lederer

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69 By Verena Singmann

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Changes for Taiwanese women under Japanese Colonial Rule, 1895â&#x20AC;&#x201C;1945

Taiwan can now be described as a liberal democratic nation where women and men have almost equal opportunities. In the nineteenth century, however, the traditional Chinese family organization and Confucian ideals defined Taiwanese society. In this system, a womanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s main role is to ensure the continuation of the family line by producing a male heir. Confucianism is still emphasized in the education system today, but the roles of women and their social status have nonetheless considerably changed since then. The first steps towards modernization, away from traditional ideals, were taken under Japanese colonial rule from 1895 to 1945. This paper seeks to explore how the Japanese occupation changed traditional family patterns in Taiwan, especially the role of women in the family. Japan did not directly interfere in the existing family structure and social organization. Japanese colonizers had no intention to adjust Taiwanese family organization to Japanese tradition, which had been highly influenced by Neo-Confucianism during Tokugawa-era Japan. Instead, the Japanese colonial government was primarily concerned with improving the administrative system, increasing agricultural efficiency, maximizing production to strengthen its own empire, and later to prepare for war. Nevertheless, certain policies and economic development during the colonial period led to important social changes in Taiwan. This paper will show that the introduction of a public, island-wide education system improved the status of women. Furthermore, economic developments offered more job opportunities to women outside the household. In addition to the impact on

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women, these changes also had an impact on men, specifically their work opportunities, which allowed them to expand their social circles outside the family context and to develop independent sources of wealth. As a result, women’s status in society was altered, paving the way for modernization and the “liberation” of Taiwanese women. In order to perceive and understand social changes in Taiwan between 1895 and 1945, I will first describe the traditional Chinese family organization with a special focus on the role of women. Following that will be the theoretical framework of factors that help to measure social change and the improvement of status. Third, a detailed analysis of changes in the educational system and the economy under colonial rule will show how theoretical factors of change can be applied in this case. During the course of my research, it became quite clear that it is hard to prove that there was a substantial improvement in women’s status given the small to non-existent amount of literature actually written by women at this time. Therefore, in this analysis, the changes in marriage patterns have proven to be the best example of how the role of women in Taiwan was affected by developments under colonial rule.

at that time, during the turbulent period of transition from the Ming to the Qing dynasty, that the first main wave of immigrants from mainland China settled permanently on the island. The Taiwanese population grew rapidly, reaching almost two million by 1811, 2 and 2 Lamley, Harry J. “Subethnic Rivalry in the Ch’ing were composed primarily Period,” p. 292. of Han Chinese ethnicities coming from the southeastern provinces of China (Fujian, Guangdong and Jiangxi). These Han Chinese can be divided into subgroups defined by different customs and rituals. The two main groups that settled in Taiwan were the Hakka and the Hoklo. Arthur P. Wolf and Chieh-shan Huang did a great deal of fieldwork on the local customs of the Hoklo village Hai-shan in northern Taiwan. They noted a significant change in family role of women. Most other works that described changes during the colonial period do not make a distinction between the aforementioned groups and we can therefore assume that women in both groups experienced similar changes. During the Japanese occupation, many Japanese also settled in Taiwan, but most of them left at the end of World War II when Japan surrendered.3 The 3 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and second substantial wave Ethnographic Perspectives on of Han Chinese coming the Chinese Family.” Thonton, from mainland China ocArland and Hui-Sheng Lin. curred at the end of the Social Change and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The Chinese Civil War when University of Chicago Press, Chiang Kai-shek and the 1994: p. 23. Nationalist party settled on Taiwan in the 1950s. This paper focuses mainly on the Han Chinese who settled in Taiwan starting in the seventeenth century and therefore share substantial similarities with what can be considered traditional Chinese family organizational structure. The Japanese policy towards the aborigines, the non-Han, was clearly one of oppres-

The Taiwanese Population The Taiwanese population can generally be divided into four groups; corresponding to the chronology of their arrival on the island. The first group is composed of the island’s earliest settlers: the Taiwan aborigines who are composed of different Austronesian peoples, mainly sharing similar cultural 1 Lamley, Harry J. “Subethfeatures with Malays and nic Rivalry in the Ch’ing Polynesians. Period,” The Anthropology of By 1683, approxiTaiwanese Society. Ed. Emily mately one hundred Martin Ahern and Hill Gates. thousand Chinese already Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1981: p. 292. lived on Taiwan.1 It was

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sion and assimilation. Furthermore, by the time the Japanese came to Taiwan, the aboriginal population had already begun to decline and their distinct culture had started to merge with the Chinese culture brought on by contact with Chinese immigrants.

generation to generation 5 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and through the male line.5 Ethnographic Perspectives on Land property was usuthe Chinese Family,” p. 26. ally perceived as an important and highly valuable gift from the ancestors, and therefore guaranteed loyalty and ancestor worship. Since inheritance was only possible through the male line of descent, the status of women and their role in the family differed greatly from that of men. The most important differentiation between male and female membership in a family lies in their memorial and kinship “endurance”. Male membership remains stable and “enduring” throughout their lives, and subsequently extends to the afterlife where they are worshipped as an ancestor.6 Women, on the other 6 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and hand, are only temporary Ethnographic Perspectives on members within their nathe Chinese Family,” p. 29. tal families. As such, they 7 Wolf, Margey. Women and are often considered to be the Family in Rural Taiwan. Stanford, California: Stanford relatively useless and will University Press, p. 32. thus be forced to leave 8 Wolf, Margey. Women and their household either at the Family in Rural Taiwan. a very young age, or Stanford, California: Stanford when they are married off University Press, p. 35. to another family.7 A woman enters her husband’s family as an outsider and is therefore regarded with a fair degree of suspicion. 8 Her membership in the new family can only be substantiated through bearing a child, preferably a son, to continue the family lineage. The only means by which a married woman might experience a sense of stability and “belonging” within her husband’s household is through the creation of what Margery Wolf has called the “uterine family”. Wolf defines the uterine family as a woman’s mother and the mother’s children.9 Expounding upon this notion further: when a woman gets married, she is

Traditional Family Organization In Chinese tradition, the family was always considered more important than the individual. For the Hakka and the Hoklo, Taiwanese society was also pooled around family units and modeled after the traditions they imported. Therefore when assessing the Taiwanese family organization, we may accordingly investigate Chinese family traditions in general. The most distinct feature of traditional Chinese society is its patriarchal organization, whereby the head of the household is usually the oldest male member of the family. As such, family membership and property can only be passed on through male members of a family. Also defined by gender and age are kinship terminology, degrees of mourning for a deceased, accessibility to education and employment, and numerous other activities which might be divided according to such a tradition of male social dominance. Prior to the industrialization of Taiwan, the family-economy consisted of labour-intensive production, whereby all members of a family were required to contribute to the productivity of their household. It was the head of the household (usually the eldest male) who had the final authority over decisions concerning the division of labour and resources.4 The activities 4 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and performed by each memEthnographic Perspectives on ber of a household rested the Chinese Family,” p. 32. upon the fundamental understanding that production benefits the group as a whole. Another essential characteristic of the family was the common property that was passed on from

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forced to leave her uterine family and is thus subjected to a period of time where she is without any tangible familial bonds, that is, until she bears the children who subsequently define her “new” uterine family. A uterine family, however, is only temporary; devoid of formal structure or ideology save for the sentiments of loyalty that children feel for their mothers who, reciprocating their children’s sentiments, experience a sense of security stemming from their received affection.10 Furthermore, the uterine family offers a consistent guarantee of 10 Wolf, Margey. Women and the Family in Rural Taiwan. familial stability, offerStanford, California: Stanford ing the married woman a University Press, p. 37. bonding relationship that 11 Seaman, Gary. “The Sexual grows stronger over time Politics of Karmic Retribution,” The Anthropology of Taiwanese and secures her a place Society. Ed. Emily Martin in the ancestral cult.11 As Ahern and Hill Gates. Stanford, a symbol of both the California: Stanford University gratitude and pity felt for Press, 1981. 394. a woman’s fate, a son must perform at his mother’s funeral a ceremony wherein they “break the bloody bowl;” also known as the “bloody pond ceremony.” Usually symbolized by the drinking of dyed wine, this is a ceremony that signifies the drinking of blood generated by the act of his birth; a son must make amends for the pain that he caused his mother during de12 Seaman, Gary. “The Sexual Politics of Karmic livery, displaying the ultiRetribution,” p. 395. mate confirmation of his filial piety.12 Nevertheless, having a son was not imperative for a woman to formally be a part of her husband’s family. Upon marriage, the groom’s father was committed to supporting his new daughter-in-law for the duration of her life.13 As well, in the family’s altar, the new

wife was honoured with 13 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and a tablet inscribed with her Adoption in China, 1845–1945. name, and the family Stanford, California: Stanford thereby had to make reguUniversity Press, 1980, p. 77. lar offerings on her behalf, just as they would do for the husband. These obligations existed even when the husband died prior to his wife or when she died without producing any heirs. This may seem to undermine the importance for a wife of the uterine family; however, the bonds she develops with her children are significantly different from the bonds that are established with her new family through marriage. The relationship with her parentsin-law was most often characterized by undertones of suspicion and sometimes, in the case of her motherin-law, a sense of jealousy justified by the fear of 14 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and losing the strong bond that Adoption in China, 1845–1945, had been established with p. 85. her son.14 Traditional marriage patterns reflected the hierarchical kinship system and the authority of senior family members over younger generations. It was usually the parents who arranged marriages for their children, often with the best interests of the family in mind.15 Wolf and Huang describe different forms of marriage; the most important of which, known as “major and minor mar15 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and riages”, helps to measure Adoption in China, 1845–1945, the level of social change p. 72. within the community. The most common and widely used form of wedlock was the “major marriage”. Within this system, the parents of the respective families led negotiations over bride-price and dowry prior to the introduction of bride and groom to one another. Ideally, the bride and groom

9 Wolf, Margey. Women and the Family in Rural Taiwan. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, p. 33.

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were not to meet before the day of the wedding; which ritually marked the bride’s removal from her father’s authority, and her formal introduction into her new family.16 As mentioned before, a bride entered 16 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and her husband’s family Adoption in China, 1845–1945, as an “outsider” and was p. 73. thus received with a fair degree of suspicion; at times being subjected to tests in order to prove her household skills. From the time of marriage onwards, the wife would visit her natal family, not as a daughter, bur rather as a guest.17 For her natal family, their daughter’s marriage, and subsequent departure from the household, brought relief since they no longer needed to support or care for her. For her new family, the wife was the household’s only chance to con17 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and tinue the family lineage Adoption in China, 1845–1945, and, although deemed p. 74. a financial burden, was 18 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chiennonetheless of great shan Huang. Marriage and Adoption in China, 1845–1945, importance. Furthermore, p. 74. her new family had the right to claim any money she earned in addition to the income of children she would bear.18 Equally relevant to the changes within Taiwanese society that developed under Japanese occupation is the understanding of the “minor marriage”. In this form of marriage, an infant girl of less than a year old is carried into her future house and raised side-by-side with her future husband.19 These girls are referred to as sim-pua. This form of marriage differs from the aforementioned “major marriage” insofar as it serves to 19 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chiendecrease the tension shan Huang. Marriage and extant between mother Adoption in China, 1845–1945, and daughter-in-law p. 3.

that had formerly arisen as a result of the bride’s introduction to the household at a later period. While this system of marriage understandably creates a different relationship between husband and wife, it also serves to abolish the bride price that had been associated with “major marriages”. As a result, the household may use the saved money to pay for a go-between who was used to determine the bride’s character and suitability (even at this young age). At the same time it helped the mother of the groom to raise her future daughter-inlaw in the way she deemed appropriate for the future wife of her son. Furthermore, the future bride no longer threatened the strong bond of her uterine family 20 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and when married into Ethnographic Perspectives on 20 her new household. 21 Wolf, Arthur P. and ChienPeople usually shan Huang. Marriage and preferred the major marAdoption in China, 1845–1945, p. 72. riage to the minor marriage arrangement. A major marriage entailed more rituals and the opportunity to display one’s wealth and was therefore associated with higher social status.21 Measuring Social Change After looking at traditional patterns of social organization and family roles, how can we determine change in social organization and status? What are the components that help to measure social change? Thornton, Yang and Fricke provide an answer to these questions by identifying six elements of change in Taiwanese society and their potential influence on the historical Chinese family organization. These six elements are the expansion of access to public and financed education, the transformation of a labourpooling family economy into a wage-pooling family economy, urbanization and the proliferation of nonfamily living arrangements, the growth of income and the consequential rise in consumption, the rise of

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mass media, and the secularization of beliefs.22 For the purposes of this essay, the focus will be on educational and economic changes under Japanese colonial rule. In addition, an analysis of marriage patterns should also shed light upon the changes that occurred during that period. Prior to Japanese occupation, schools were instituted and run by corporate lineages: owned land was used to support schools for family members.23 This means that education was reserved for richer fami23 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and lies who had the means to Ethnographic Perspectives on supply the building, the Chinese Family,” p. 27. teachers and teaching material and whose children were not needed to help in the fields or around the house. These private institutions were mainly reserved for the education of boys. The Japanese introduced an education system that was accessible to both boys and girls, that was state-financed and that was subsequently not restricted to children from richer families. The consequences of the spread of public and compulsory education were two-fold. First, with the opportunity for girls to attend school regularly, a new generation of educated girls emerged. Secondly, public education reduced the time that children spent at home and with their 24 Thornton, A., et al. “Theoretical Mechanisms of parents.24 Less time with Family Change,” p. 91. their parents clearly reduced the influence and power that parents could exercise on their children. Furthermore, it situated the children as under the influence of non-familial members of society, for example, teachers. One should also not underestimate the influ-

ence of other pupils. This new social system clearly threatened the framework providing for a mother’s creation of her uterine family and thus the intermediary step in establishing a strong bond with her son, this being necessary in order to ensure his filial piety and loyalty. The details of the education system, its successes and the influence it held over family relations will be described later on. As mentioned earlier, the traditional family economy was organized in a framework of labour-intensive production where everyone contributed and everyone more or less benefited. When Japan gained control over Taiwan, their main interest was in maximizing the exploitation of resources. Their two main objectives were the production and export of sugar and rice and to solidify their control over the econ25 Hermalin, A., P. K. C. Liu and 25 D. Freedman. “The Social omy. Therefore, the Jaand Economic Transformation panese invested much of Taiwan.” Thornton, Arland in the development of Taiand Hui-Sheng Lin. Social Change wan, projects including and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The University of increasing agricultural Chicago Press, 1994, p. 58. production and establish26 Thornton, A. and H. S. Lin. ing an island-wide “Introduction.” Thornton, transportation and comA. and H. S. Lin. Social Change munication system.26 and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The University of Taiwanese society was Chicago Press, 1994, p. 2. slowly transformed from a labour-intensive family economy to a wage-pooling family economy. Although in many families, more children took part in work outside the confines of the household, they continued to pool their wages into a common family fund. At the beginning of the introduction of new industries to the island, people engaged in industrial work not for individual needs, but as a response to family needs. Thornton et al. argue that the wage labour economy can therefore be seen as an extension of the historical family economy.27 However, this is a

22 Thornton, A., et al. “Theoretical Mechanisms of Family Changea,” Thornton, Arland and Hui-Sheng Lin. Social Change and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994, p. 90.

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simplified view that ignores the effects on the individual worker that such changes in a society and individual family economy can bring. Despite contributing their wages to the family economy, individuals participated in the formal economy as individuals and not as family units. By working in factories rather than in the fields with their parents, parental control became limited. Children came into contact with co-workers, often with those of the opposite sex. Just as with the introduction of education, by spending more time away from home, the household head’s control was diminished and other, outside, influences came to shape the development of children.

highly valued by scholars today because they provide a lot of information about Taiwanese society during the Japanese occupation. The household registration system is still in operation today and has been of great utility to the police and to provide stability and 30 Gates, Hill. Chinese Working-Class Lives: Getting by prevent political opposiin Taiwan. Ithaca, New York: 30 tion. In general, islandCornell University Press, wide peace and security 1987, p. 41. during the period of 1895 31 Cohen, Myron L. House United, House Divided: The to 1940 is often attributed Chinese Family in Taiwan. to the radical political New York: Columbia University innovations introduced by Press, 1976, p. 13. 31 the Japanese. Most scholars who study social change in Taiwan during the Japanese colonial period identify the creation of an islandwide educational system as the most dramatic Japanese intervention in Taiwanese family life (Fricke, Chang and Yang; Wolf and Huang). Nevertheless, the introduction of a school system that provides access to school for all children on the island did not occur overnight. By 1889, six schools had been established, but in 1906, there were already 180 schools run by the government.32 At the beginning there was only a small percentage of school-aged children that was able to attend school regularly. However the trend over the next four 32 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and decades was one of Ethnographic Perspectives on increasing enrolment of the Chinese Family,” p. 46. boys and girls and by 33 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and 1944, 71 % of all schoolL. S. Yang. “Historical and Ethnographic Perspectives on aged children were the Chinese Family,” p. 46. enrolled in elementary 33 schools. Not surprisingly, more boys than girls initially enjoyed the privilege of an education, but over the years the gap steadily declined and by 1944, 81% of school-aged boys were enrolled along with 61 % of school-aged girls.

27 Thornton, A., et al. “Theoretical Mechanisms of Family Change,” p. 95.

Changes During the Japanese Occupation One of the first major policies that Japan imposed on Taiwan was the registration of the Taiwanese population. All Taiwanese were assigned to household groups— chia—and all chia were grouped into village units (pao).28 These village units helped to supervise the popu28 Barclay, George W. Colonial Development and Populalation within every family. tion in Taiwan. Princeton, It is important to note New Jersey: Princeton Univerthat these new regulations sity Press, 1954, p. 50. were in line with the 29 Barclay, George W. Colonial Development and Populaindigenous social structure tion in Taiwan. Princeton, of kinship and thereNew Jersey: Princeton Univerfore did not cause any sity Press, 1954, p. 50. tensions between the Japanese colonizers and 29 the Taiwanese population. It helped the Japanese to build an efficient new regime of authority that extended to every village. In order to keep track of the distinct groups living in Taiwan and to better control the population, Japan carried out several censuses on the island. These censuses were very detailed and are

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The sons of wealthier families who had been among the first to enrol in the newly established schools usually became teachers, officials or clerks. More and more young men decided to pursue a career that was not restricted to their parents’ house34 Lin, Chin-ju. “”Modern” Daughters-in-law in Colonial hold. Additionally, a Taiwanese Families.” Journal new generation of “modof Family History, April 2005, ern” women emerged p. 191. who had also been lucky enough to get a primary-level education and subsequently decided to work outside their houses.34 As discussed earlier, children who went to school spent less time at home and more time with other children. They were influenced by their friends at school but also by the new ideas they learned in their classes. While they were in school, their parents could not control them or exert their authority. Girls especially, learned how to make decisions without their mother’s constant supervision and developed a new consciousness of their role and status in society. Unfortunately, we can only assume any sort of knowledge of the changes for mothers who spent less time with their children. As suggested earlier, mothers would have more difficulty establishing strong bonds with their sons and strengthening the uterine family while maintaining her insecurity and the feeling of being an outsider for a longer period of time. It is difficult to measure the consequences for wives and mothers considering the lack of primary sources written by women and translated into English. Nevertheless, the consequences of the new feeling of independence in children are reflected in marriage patterns that will be described later. These changes show that women and men developed a resistance to sim-pua and other forms of arranged marriages. Under Japanese colonial rule from 1895 to 1945, Taiwan experienced rapid and sustained growth.

The Japanese invested heavily in agriculture and from 1900 to 1945, about 145 million yen were invested in irrigation facilities.35 With the introduction of new seed strains, new cropping techniques and increases in natural and chemical fertilizers, the area under 35 Hermalin, A., P. K. C. Liu and D. Freedman. “The Social irrigation increased and Economic Transformation from 195,000 acres to of Taiwan,” p. 59. around 530,000 acres in 36 Hermalin, A., P. K. C. Liu 1945.36 Between 1900 and D. Freedman. “The Social and Economic Transformation and 1925, the general gross of Taiwan,” p. 59. output increased by 46 percent and after 1925, it increased by 75 percent until the Second World War brought an end to this continuous growth in agricultural production.37 The extension of the railroad and road system led to easier transportation of 37 Pao-San Ho, Samuel. “Agricultural Transformation goods. Japan’s demands Under Colonialism: The Case for Taiwanese products, of Taiwan,” The Journal es-pecially sugar, helped of Economic History Sept. the farmers to in1968, p. 316. crease productivity, sell their products, and gain more wealth. The agricultural sector, however, is not the only one that was affected by Japanese colonial policies. During World War I, coal mining became one of the major industries along with tea production and wineries, especially in the north of Taiwan.38 Eco38 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and nomic development and Adoption in China, 1845–1945, growth offered more p. 199. opportunities for people both in the countryside and in the cities. As a result, it became common for wealthier families to send their sons to middle schools so that they would become government clerks or teachers.39

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Women in Colonial Taiwan

Towards the end of the colonial period, we can see a trend away from labour-pooling family farms and towards wage employment. This does not mean that Taiwanese society was transformed into an entirely industrial urban society at the end of World War II, but rather that the changes and new industries offered alternatives beyond agricultural production. The changes in the economy had an impact on traditional family life in several ways as suspected by Thornton, Yang and Fricke. Young adults that met each other in factories or other working places developed a new interest in choosing their future spouse themselves. Along with educational developments, the effect that economic developments had on Taiwanese society is well reflected in the change of marriage patterns.

cultural efficiency led 41 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and to more prosperity, giving Adoption in China, 1845–1945, peasant families the p. 193. financial capabilities to 42 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienraise their daughters shan Huang. Marriage and Adoption in China, 1845–1945, or to pay bride prices and p. 194. wait until their son was old enough to marry. With a rise in income, less people saw the need to save for the payment of a bride price.42 Most people preferred to wait until their sons were old enough to arrange a major marriage, which was a way to display their new income and gain more social prestige. From the children’s point of view, there was a growing dissatisfaction with parental authority and especially with arranged marriages. The generation of marrying age in the 1920s and 1930s included the first graduates from the schools established under Japanese rule. 43 These graduates had experi43 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and enced a large part of their Adoption in China, 1845–1945, childhood outside their p. 198. natal homes and now had greater job opportunities. These new opportunities, while providing them with greater economic independence, also gave them more of a voice in their own marriage arrangements. It is important to note here that men mainly refused minor (sim-pua) marriages but continued to let their parents look for an appropriate wife for them.44 Parents had to discover that they could no longer force 44 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and their sons to marry the Adoption in China, 1845–1945, daughter-in-law whom p. 181. they raised so carefully to become the perfect wife. Wolf and Huang argue that the refusal to marry the girl one grew up with was indicative of “a revolt that overthrew parental control of the marital domain.”45

39 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and Adoption in China, 1845–1945, p. 198.

Marriage Patterns Significant changes in marriage patterns did not start to occur until 1920. In the 1920s and 1930s, there was a sharp decline in minor marriages. Not only did the number of boys who got matched with a sim-pua when they were young decline, there was also an increase in couples who were matched as children but refused to get married after having grown up together.40 40 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and Different factors must be Adoption in China, 1845–1945, considered when lookp. 195. ing at the changes of marriage patterns. Was it the parents or the children who were unsatisfied with the situation and thus pushed for change? In the case of Taiwan from 1895 to 1945, one can argue that the aforementioned island-wide peace and security led more people to decide that they could afford the luxury of raising a girl instead of giving her away as a sim-pua.41 Along these lines, increased agri-

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Women in Colonial Taiwan

Thus, when looking at marriage patterns, particularly during the later half of Japanese colonial rule, we can see a strong decline in the minor form of marriage as a consequence of the appearance of wage labour. More economic power in the hands of both boys and girls affected intergenerational relations.46 Changes 46 Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and initiated by the Japanese Ethnographic Perspectives on colonial government the Chinese Family,” p. 38. undermined parental authority by providing young people with opportunities to make an independent living and to make their own choices concerning their spouses. A woman that was chosen by her husband no longer entered her husband’s family as a complete stranger. In traditional Taiwanese society, bride and groom were not supposed to meet prior to their wedding and consequently a woman entered her husband’s house as a stranger and was met with a great deal of suspicion. When a husband had been involved in choosing his wife, he was less suspicious of her. The mother-in-law’s suspicion, however, grew stronger because she had to compete with the new woman in the house for her son’s affections. The emergence of love-matches instead of arranged marriages undermines the importance of the uterine family described by Margery Wolf. A wife that was directly chosen by her husband does not necessarily need the strong bond with her children in order to secure a rightful place in her husband’s family. Her husband’s affection and her own economic independence provide her with enough security.

descent. The family economy relied on a labour-intensive mode of production whereby all members contributed to a common fund. Female membership in the natal family was only temporary, that is, until marriage. Additionally, in her husband’s family, the wife was regarded, for a considerable length of time, as an outsider that could not be trusted. Therefore, a woman tried to establish strong bonds with her children in order to develop a family of her own that could provide her with a feeling of security. The major form of marriage ritually marked the departure from her natal family and the introduction into her husband’s family where she was expected to produce male heirs. In the minor form of marriage, a young girl would be adopted by her future family and grow up with her future husband as a brother. These traditional Chinese ideals and customs were brought to Taiwan by the first big wave of Han Chinese immigrants from the south-eastern provinces of mainland China. In 1895, the First Sino-Japanese War was brought to an end with the treaty of Shimonoseki that ceded Taiwan to Japan. The Japanese colonizers did not try to directly interfere with the social organization of the Taiwanese population but their policies nevertheless changed some of the existing social structures. With the introduction of an island-wide education system and economic developments that increased agricultural production along with the introduction of new technologies, the Japanese colonial period brought on considerable changes in social organization and ultimately altered the role of women. Local schools and new industries transplanted childhood social settings to areas outside the home and away from parental authority. Subsequently, children started to think and make decisions independently while interacting with other children. Furthermore, new industrial employment opportunities offered an alternative to the family farm and children started to become

45 Wolf, Arthur P. and Chienshan Huang. Marriage and Adoption in China, 1845–1945, p. 196.

Conclusion Traditional Chinese family organization relies on Confucian ideals and was defined through the male line of

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economically independent. The consequences for women are reflected in the change of Taiwanese marriage patterns. In the second half of the colonial period, consequences of policies introduced earlier appeared in the form of a decline in minor marriages. More boys refused to marry their “sisters” and wanted to take part in the selection process of their future wives. More couples knew each other before their wedding day due to their interaction in the new settings provided by social organizations such as schools and work places that had been established by the Japanese. Women felt less like outsiders when moving into their husband’s families because they had been chosen by their husbands. In sum, an island-wide school system, and the new industries established by the Japanese colonial government during the period between 1895 and 1945, created a new arena for social interaction between children as well as new opportunities to work outside of their parent’s households. The newly gained independence is reflected in a change of marriage patterns and a growing trend of refusal to accept parental authority. This paper only examines developments until the end of the Second World War, that is, until Japanese surrender. However, it was in the 1950s and 1960s that Taiwan experienced the most significant eco-nomic development combined with the emergence of “factory girls” (a term first coined by Lydia Kung). It is important to note that the process of industrialization after 1950 was made possible by the economic advances during the Japanese colonial period and the emergence of new generations of educated children. An analysis of social changes during the second half of the twentieth century remains an interesting topic for further research on the development of women in Taiwanese society. This paper is but an examination of the foundations of contemporary Taiwanese society, of the changes effected

Women in Colonial Taiwan

during the Japanese colonial period that paved the way for future growth and change. —VS Notes Barclay, George W. Colonial Development and Population in Taiwan. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1954. Cohen, Myron L. House United, House Divided: The Chinese Family in Taiwan. New York: Columbia University Press, 1976. Diamond, Norma. K’un Shen: A Taiwanese Village. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1969. Fricke, T., J.S. Chang and L. S. Yang. “Historical and Ethnographic Perspectives on the Chinese Family.” Thonton, Arland and Hui-Sheng Lin. Social Change and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994. 22–48. Gates, Hill. Chinese Working-Class Lives: Getting by in Taiwan. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1987.

Hermalin, A., P. K. C. Liu and D. Freedman. “The Social and Economic Transformation of Taiwan.” Thornton, Arland and Hui-Sheng Lin. Social Change and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994. 49–87. Ka, Chih-ming. Japanese Colonialism in Taiwan: Land Tenure, Development, and Dependency, 1895–1945. Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, Inc., 1995. Kung, Lydia. Factory Women in Taiwan. 2nd. New York: Columbia University Press, 1994. Lamley, Harry J. “Subethnic Rivalry in the Ch’ing Period,” The Anthropology of Taiwanese Society. Ed. Emily Martin Ahern and Hill Gates. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1981. 282–318. Lin, Chin-

ju. “”Modern” Daughters-in-law in Colonial Taiwanese Families,” Journal of Family History April 2005: 191–209. Lu, Hsin-yi. “Imaging ‘New Women,’ Imaging Modernity: Gender Rethoric in Colonial Taiwan,” Women in the New Taiwan: Gender Roles and Gender Consciousness in a Changing Society. Ed. Catherine Farris, Anru Lee and Murray Rubinstein. Armonk, New York: M. E. Sharpe, Inc., 2004. 76–98. Pao-San Ho, Samuel. “Agricultural Transformation Under Colonialism: The Case of Taiwan,” The Journal of Economic History Sept. 1968: 313–340. Seaman, Gary. “The Sexual Politics of Karmic Retribution,” The Anthropology of Taiwanese Society. Ed. Emily Martin Ahern and Hill Gates. Stanford,

90 California: Stanford University Press, 1981. 381–396. Thornton, A. and H. S. Lin. “Introduction.” Thornton, A. and H. S. Lin. Social Change and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994. 1–21. Thornton, A.,

By Albert Joern

Creating the Body of a Fighter… et al. “Theoretical Mechanisms of Family Change.” Thornton, Arland and Hui-Sheng Lin. Social Change and the Family in Taiwan. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1994. 88–115. Wolf, Arthur P. and Chien-shan Huang. Marriage

and Adoption in China, 1845–1945. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1980. Wolf, Margey. Women and the Family in Rural Taiwan. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1972.

Creating the Body of a Fighter and the Mind of a Pacifist Concepts and Principles behind Shaolin Teachings

In the modern world, Shaolin is synonymous with orange robes and high flying kicks. There is a fascination with Shaolin martial arts, but most people do not realize the true principles of this training. While the monks at Shaolin Monastery did in fact practice fighting techniques, they were not learning to become fighters. The Shaolin Monastery was a Buddhist organization, and as such they were pacifists—they did not believe in the use of violence. The purpose of their training regime was to learn physical methods of self-cultivation that develop the mind-body connection using both Daoist and Buddhist concepts, with the ultimate goal of achieving enlightenment along the path of Chan Buddhism. The goal of this paper is to identify the process through which the Shaolin order believed physical

training could further spiritual growth. We will examine historical evidence of violence in a broad sense and how it was justified within the monastery. However, the argument here is that these accounts were deviations from the true principles, and do not serve as examples of Shaolin beliefs. By examining a set of criteria put forward by the author Terence Dukes, which analyzes how religious schools of thought examine the mindbody relation to spirituality, we shall see how these criteria could be applied to the Shaolin teachings. Though the sources available on the Shaolin Monastery are in contention over their true origins, here we will examine the possible connection to an Indian martial art called vajramukti, and how it connects with Vajrapani, a Buddhist deity who the author Meir Shahar identified as a mythological basis of Shaolin training.1 By the end of this paper, the reader should have a better 1 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion understanding of and the Chinese Martial Arts. how Shaolin martial arts Honolulu: University of Hawaii were a tool for training press, 2008, p. 37. the mind, not a system designed for use on the battlefield. Though the Shaolin order believed that it could be possible to achieve enlightenment within one lifetime, very few possessed the karma to achieve such a feat. While consistent effort was the most critical aspect of Buddhist cultivation, it was believed that karma was what allowed one the opportunity to devote a life to the Buddhist path. Poor karma would present a person with circumstances that would distract him from spiritual growth, or prevent it altogether. This was one of the reasons that Buddhists stressed the importance of right action: not to harm others and to strive to do good within the world. It was vital to accumulate good karma and rid oneself of bad karma not only to allow the practitioner the opportunity for spiritual development in the current life, but also

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to improve the state of reincarnation in the next life should the practitioner fail to reach nirvana. Of course, there is the paradox wherein if a practitioner performs an act purely due to his attachment to the concept of nirvana and his desire to attain that state, it in itself is an act of selfishness and would not produce good karma. Nobody said the path to enlightenment was an easy one. The history of the Shaolin Monastery demonstrates that monks at different times would stray from these principles. As Buddhists, the Shaolin monks were supposed to be pacifists, and yet there are documented examples of their involvement in bloodshed. Most Buddhist scriptures punish violence and warriors to hell. They emphasized the point that “even as passive spectators they are not permitted to enter a battlefield, for they should neither hear the sound of war nor witness its horrors.”2 Most monks did indeed observe the prohibition of warfare. In a Chinese text from the 2 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion fifth century, the Sutra of and the Chinese Martial Arts, the Buddha’s net, Fanwang p. 20. Jing wrote:

the monastic order.4 If the 4 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion study of fighting techand the Chinese Martial Arts, niques led some monks p. 50. astray from the true teachings, why then, did the Shaolin continue to train them? They could have instead trained physical movements that were free from any association to combat. In their collaborative work, Allan Bäck and Daeshik Kim put forward a convincing argument about the relationship between pacifism and the eastern martial arts that addresses this question. Having accepted pacifism, the Buddhist is essentially concerned with situations involving fighting, and so a system that promotes the development of self-control in violent situations is one that would be of benefit. If a monk was able to fight reasonably well, yet chose not to, the choice would be made on a moral stance, and not based on his inability to defend himself. Furthermore, the argument could be made that if violence was forced upon the monk, it was only with training that he could react consciously in a manner in line with his beliefs. The monk would be able to defend himself in a way that would not result in the death of either himself or his assailant. Without training, most people are unable to react calmly in violent encounters. Typically, their thoughts are clouded with emotional responses, and they experience the encounter as a chaotic blur in which their reflexes take control. In the text that they published in 2004, the representatives of the Shaolin order discussed the relevance of being skilled in combat so that one would not unwillingly harm others. They claim that when they practice self defense within the realm of actual 5 Shaolin order. The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, combat, it is always on the Philosophy and Gung Fu of basis of disarming an Shaolin Ch’an. Beaverton: The opponent and trying to Shaolin Order, 2004, p. 79. stop their attacks, thereby

A disciple of the Buddha should not possess swords, spears, bows, arrows, pikes, axes or any other fighting devices. Even if one’s father or mother were slain, one should not retaliate.3

3 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion and the Chinese Martial Arts, p. 101.

Despite this, some monks still decided to leave the monastery of their own accord to participate in military campaigns. According to the five precepts, killing any sentient being is forbidden, and if a monk were to kill a human being, he could be permanently expelled from

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inflicting only minimal damage.5 The objective of Buddhism was to eliminate suffering, not to cause it. Nevertheless, there are examples throughout the long history of the monastery where military generals enlisted the help of these well-trained monks, and some of the monks were even involved in rebel uprisings. Such examples do not point to some underlying principle in Shaolin teachings that promotes warfare or any other form of violence. They were simply examples of people who had studied at the monastery and had strayed from the true principles of the Shaolin order. While some of the monks may have left due to personal attachments, others left out of some sense of patriotism. Despite efforts to remain detached from the real world, the monastery did in fact exist within it, and consequently was subject to the chaos and violence which is inherent to human history. The Shaolin Monastery itself was located on the Song mountain near the city of Luoyang in the Dengfeng county of central Henan. It was supposedly built by Emperor Xiaowen of the Northern Wei in 477, shortly before he moved the capital from Pingcheng (modern Datong, Shanxi) to Luoyang in 494 (Record of the Buddhist Monasteries of Luoyang 547 CE, and the 6 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion Ming Yitongzhi 1461 and the Chinese Martial Arts, CE).6 This location near p. 10. one of the imperial capitals was a large factor in the involvement of Shaolin monks in some of the violent political struggles of the empire. We find historical examples of the involvement of Shaolin monks in warfare in epigraphy on the stone steles found within their own monastery. One such example is the Stele that records the events concerning Li Shi Min’s conflicts with Wang Shicong. The stele represented a letter of thanks for the Shaolin monastery’s help in the conflicts, and granted them a sanction by the political authorities.7 The involvement of the

Shaolin monks would 7 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion have been one of necessity and the Chinese Martial Arts, rather than political p. 198. ambition. The war was raging right on the footsteps of the monastery as Wang Shicong pushed towards the capital, and neither side would have easily accepted the notion of neutrality. The monks were forced to make a decision, and they acted in a manner they felt most appropriate to preserve the monastery. Within Buddhism, one of the greatest acts of compassion a monk could perform was protecting the teachings of the dharma, and contributing to their proliferation. It was seen as maintaining the path to liberation for all sentient beings. The monks that involved themselves in warfare would have knowingly broken their vows, accepting that they may be reincarnated in some Buddhist hell, out of a sense of duty that they had to protect the monastery. It would have felt to them like a selfless act in a time of chaos, where they would hope to preserve the dharma so that others, perhaps even a future reincarnation of themselves, could continue along the path to enlightenment. However, involvement with the politics of the court was not a mark of pride for the Shaolin Monastery. They were called upon to use their martial skills for the defense of the imperial court, and often there were monks that volunteered to participate out of some sense of compassion or patriotism. The Shaolin Monastery itself tried to maintain an official position of peace, not wanting to participate in violence, particularly that which stemmed from political ambitions. According to the Shaolin order, in 915 CE, there was a “Decree of the guardian” which stated: Enlightenment is the uppermost reason for walking the path of

8 Shaolin order. The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, Philosophy and Gung Fu of Shaolin Ch’an, p. 79.

Orientations, Volume 8 the Buddha. This path leads us away from birth, death, rebirth and worldliness, and must include renouncing the ties and fealty to the secular world. From this date forward the Shaolin order shall live and act separate from imperial law, shall not partake in government or civil administration, and shall abstain from any act of war.8

The historical authenticity of this decree, like many aspects of the Shaolin Monastery, is uncertain. It is claimed to have originated from the southern Fukien Temple of the Shaolin order, and carried over to the Henan Monastery at Mount Song.9 Of course 9 Shaolin order. The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, the Henan Monastery’s Philosophy and Gung Fu of proximity to the court Shaolin Ch’an, p. 29. made it harder to maintain this decree. The existence of the Fukien Temple, supposedly built by 683 CE, is a controversial issue due to the notoriously poor historical records of the Shaolin order. This was because the historical documents were either destroyed in one of the attacks on the order, or because the monks viewed history as a transient concept and found record keeping to be unimportant.10 While 10 Shaolin order. The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, maintaining the teachings Philosophy and Gung Fu of of the dharma was Shaolin Ch’an, p. 36. essential, documenting the history of the order may not have been. However, there is some evidence for the historical authenticity of the decree of the guardian. Straight through the Song Dynasty (960–1279) and well into the Yuan Dynasty (1271–1368), there are virtually no historical records of Shaolin involvement in military affairs. If this decree was made, they remained faithful to it for centuries.

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The point is that the principles of Shaolin teachings were pacifistic. While some tried to use sutras and explanations to justify the use of violence, they were criticized for trying to circumvent the principle that Buddhist monks should abstain from inflicting harm. Even when these monks used violence only to protect others, it would still result in the accumulation of karmic debt. These sutras were best used to minimize this accumulation. One sutra tells of how the Buddha in a previous life killed several Brahmins who were slandering Mahayana teachings because they were Icchan11 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion tika (one incapable of and the Chinese Martial Arts, 11 being saved). Bodhisatp. 91. tva Manjusri was said to have lifted his spear against the Buddha to demonstrate the illusory nature of all things, since everything is emptiness, all are equally unreal, and neither crime, nor perpetrator, nor victim could exist. Some Chan teachings even carried a shocking message that if you should ever meet the Buddha, you should kill him, as all is an illusion and nothing truly exists. These were mostly, however, tales used to illustrate some point in the main teachings. In the case of the Chan teachings, they would use such sutras with the objective of trying to shock the student into the sudden awakening that Chan promoted. More pragmatically, there is the notion of “compassionate killing.” When no other way to prevent a crime is available, it is permissible to kill the would-be criminal, to stop the bandit from creating bad karma. The catch is that a monk would be taking this bad karma upon himself. Despite good intentions, the monk would have broken the precepts and would have to overcome the karmic 12 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin debt.12 Some would have Monastery: History, Religion believed this to be the and the Chinese Martial Arts, action of a bodhisattva, p. 92.

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one who delays their own enlightenment with the goal of helping others to reach nirvana. Nevertheless, those that were focused solely on spiritual enlightenment did not condone any form of violence, no matter the purpose. The ultimate goal was the renunciation of all attachments, along with the realization that any particular act is a transitory piece of history. One Buddhist renunciation that the Shaolin monks were notorious for breaking was the consumption of dead flesh. The monks who indulged in such behaviour fell back on two justifications, the first being that so long as the Buddha was in your heart, meat and wine were nothing.13 The second relates to 13 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion the mythical story of one and the Chinese Martial Arts, monk who had studied p. 45. at the Shaolin Monastery. It was written in the Tang Dynasty by Zhang Zuo, and was based on a monk named Sengchou, who is claimed to have lived from 480 to 550 CE. At the time some of the monks enjoyed practicing wrestling for entertainment. Sengchou was a weakly student, and was being bullied by some of the other monks. Sengchou was ashamed of this, and prayed to Vajrapani. He beseeched the deity to grant him strength, and prayed for 7 days. On the sixth night, just before dawn, Vajrapani was revealed to him, and presented him with a bowl of sinews and flesh. Sengchou resisted, believing that monks were meant to renounce meat. Vajrapani threatened Sengchou and he became so terrified that he ate. The deity then said to him

Sengchou went out to confront the other monks, who at once recognized the Buddha’s power within him, and bowed before him. Vajrapani (also known as Jingang shou pusa, or Jinnauluo) was one of the three protective deities sometimes depicted surrounding the Buddha. Each symbolized one of the Buddha’s virtues, and therefore a part of the Buddha himself. Manjusri was a manifestation of all the Buddha’s wisdom, Avolokitesvara was a manifestation of all the Buddha’s compassion, and Vajrapani was a manifestation of the Buddha’s power. Vajrapani is commonly portrayed in the active warrior pose (pratayalidha) with his right hand holding a vajra (a short metal weapon that has the symbolic nature of a diamond, and that of a thunderbolt). In Shaolin practice he was seen as an image of Buddha’s power and deemed to be a granter of strength. To venerate the deity Vajrapani and to cultivate his strength and power, some of the Shaolin monks ate meat. Therefore they claimed to eat the flesh not out of personal attachment to the pleasure of eating meats, but out of a sense of devotion. This practice remained an argued point, with some monks refusing to eat meat, while others accepted fish as a suitable substitute. Realistically, it was logical that some practitioners of such a physically demanding regime would find that a diet rich in protein had a dramatic impact on their energy and strength, and would try to find some loophole through the dogmatic beliefs that went against it. Such depictions of military deities in the Buddhist Pantheon demonstrated that even Buddha occasionally needed protection from harm. Some feel that 15 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion their example vindicates and the Chinese Martial Arts, 15 Buddhist military action. p. 90. Protection of the Buddhist faith could be construed as an act of compassion, and the monks would contribute to the propagation of the Buddhist message through

14 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion and the Chinese Martial Arts, p. 36.

Now, you are already extremely strong. However, you should fully uphold the [Buddhist] teachings, beware!14

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heroic contribution. While this may justify the use of violence to protect the path towards greater spiritual development, it does not, justify the use of violence when following the path. There is an important distinction here. It is not clear whether the monks that chose to participate in warfare actually trained for combat at the monastery itself. While there were records of Shaolin monks helping fight bandits as far back as the Sui Dynasty, the Shaolin Monastery was not 16 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery. History, Religion known for its fighting arts and the Chinese Martial Arts, until much later. Their p. 127. staff work was not famous until the 13th century, and their hand-to-hand fighting was only popularized during the Ming-Qing transition.16 Some of the generals and martial arts enthusiasts who studied at the Shaolin Monastery criticized the efficacy of their training on the battlefield, deeming it to be impractical and many of the forms to be too ‘flowery’. It was commonly stated that while one could mimic animals or perform elaborate forms and demonstrations in training, real combat was simple, dirty and to-the-point. Qi Jiguang, a general around 1562 CE, stated that “Without obvious postures or techniques, you will be effective with one move; if you do 17 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion make the mistake of and the Chinese Martial Arts, posturing and posing, you p. 130. will be ineffective with 18 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin ten moves.”17 Another Monastery: History, Religion and the Chinese Martial Arts, criticism of Shaolin conp. 64. cerned their poor skill with a spear, which was seen as the “lord of all weapons” in war.18 Some felt that they simply applied their staff training to the spear, which did not cohere with the common battlefield strategies for spearmen.

Historians such as Stanley E. Henning put forward the argument that while Chinese martial arts were linked to Daoist physical exercises, this was only an attachment put upon later on due to the dancelink phenomenon. He believes that martial arts were originally a combat skill rather than a sport. This may very well be the truth for many styles of martial arts in China that were intended for fighting, but it does not apply to the Shaolin principles. Henning’s argument reinforces the notion that Shaolin martial training was not intended for real combat. This is evident in how the Shaolin emphasis on the Buddhist teachings and Daoist practices lowered the efficacy of their fighting skills compared to those who trained at a similar intensity purely for military application. The skill that the monks did have in battle may have reflected the fact that few armies were composed of full time, professional soldiers that had the luxury of being able to train year-round like the monks did. Of the soldiers that did have this opportunity, many of them may not have had the discipline to perform more than the mandatory training. The Shaolin Monastery was grounded on the notion of continual self-cultivation and the acceptance of death and reincarnation. On the battlefield, they would have been in excellent physical condition, possessed years of training, and fought with a confidence inspired by the acceptance of the impermanence of the material world. In certain situations, they would have served as excellent shock troops, and their spiritual connections would have influenced the morale of other soldiers. While much of the Shaolin training was useful for mental awareness, courage, physical ability and understanding the fundamentals of warfare, the training alone would not turn a man into a killing force on the battlefield. Hand fighting was also lauded only as being an advantage to understanding later training in weaponry, and the monks used staves precisely because of their non-lethal nature. It is possible that Shaolin monks

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who involved themselves in warfare were trained in special techniques at the monastery, had previous knowledge or experience in the fighting arts before becoming a monk, or even left the monastery to receive training elsewhere before engaging in the military campaigns. Though many styles of martial arts use the name of Shaolin in some way to legitimize their practice, they rarely incorporate the spiritual purpose of Shaolin training. Shaolin training that retains its original concepts and principles is not based on the goal of training a fighter, but rather on the idea of using the associative tendencies of the mind and its interplay with the physical body. The Shaolin Monastery was one of the Buddhist monasteries that adopted ritualized movement practices that contained the principles of health preservation, self-defense and meditative insight. Terms used within Buddhist teachings relating to concepts such as “mindfulness of breathing” (Anupassanasti) and the “contemplation of the five ways of moving” (iryaptha) demonstrate an aspect of the mind-body relationship within different schools of Indian Buddhism as it was carried over to China.19 Through the use of martial 19 Dukes, Terence. The Bodhisattva Warriors. San arts, the Shaolin monks Francisco, Red Wheel. 1994, could study their relation p. 197. to their bodies in order to understand, modify and enhance the quality of this mind-body connection. According to Terence Dukes, many traditional schools of thought that examine the mind-body relation view the body in three distinct ways; the body as a source of experience, the body as a metaphysi20 Dukes, Terence. The Bodhisattva Warriors, p. 95. cal representation, and the body as a penultimate enlightenment.20 By looking at these in a step-bystep fashion, we can gain a much clearer idea of how the Shaolin used martial arts as a path towards spiritual awakening.

When looking to the body as a source of experience, the goal is to examine the everyday communication between the mind and the body, whereby the consciousness is made aware of sensations such as temperature, pain, balance and so forth. It also deals with the bodily-kinaesthetic intelligence of the person, which relates to how well they are able to move and coordinate their bodies. The practice of any physical movement works first upon enhancing this level, improving the conscious awareness of the body. This is reflected in the Shaolin teachings where a young monk is unable to repeat the forms demonstrated by the older masters. Through a series of exercises the young monk can begin the process of the body awareness and coordination training that is needed to later perform an advanced Shaolin form. Examining the body as a metaphysical representation is the manner by which practitioners study the body as a patterned 21 Dukes, Terence. The Bodhisattva Warriors, p. 96. matrix and symbol of fluctuating energies and forces which, if understood correctly, can transform or transcendentalize one’s being.21 Within the Shaolin Monastery we find the mixed application of Daoist and Buddhist concepts of the body as an interconnected energetic system where the objective is to study these energies in order to create harmony within them. These teachings apply to concepts such as qi, within Daoism, and its rough equivalent in Hindu yoga teaching, prana. Through the study of both physical and mental patterning, the monks learn of their own natures. From this understanding, they would be able to understand the pattern of life in which they exist.

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Finally, in studying the body as a penultimate enlightenment, practitioners acknowledge the body as being secondary to a greater aspect of the self. Having attained a complete understanding of the body and its place within nature, the practitioner focuses on spiritual cultivation, and works to rise above the metaphysical representation of the self to attain a state of higher existence. Within the Shaolin Monastery, this would be the goal of the Buddhist state of nirvana; a perfect state of peace and freedom from attachment. In his studies on the meditative-religious traditions of the fighting arts, the psychologist Dr. Michael Maliszewksi noted that the phenomenological changes in awareness emerging from the practice of meditation 21 Maliszewski, Michael. “Meditative-Religious Tradicould be applied to ritualtions of Fighting Arts and ized practice of martial Martial Ways,” Journal of arts.21 While he found that Asian Martial Arts. Vol. 1, few fighting arts pursue a No. 3 (July 1992), p. 38. radical psychological transformation associated with the cultivation of a spiritual discipline as explained above, he was able to identify their ability to be used as such.

spiritual enlightenment, but also a clinical examination into this possibility. What needs to be understood now is how these practices arrived at the Henan Monastery in the first place. The true origins of these practices as they were conducted at the Shaolin Monastery are unclear. The most common opinion is that Bodhidharma (Damo, in Chinese), an Indian monk, arrived in China around 480 CE and propagated the Dharma in the Luoyang region until 520 CE.23 At the time Bodhidharma was in China, the monks at the Shaolin Monastery were charged 23 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion with the task of transcriband the Chinese Martial Arts, ing Buddhist books and p. 13. commentaries from the Sanskrit language into Chinese. They spent most of their time stooped over the texts and apparently lacked the basic stamina to undergo a session of meditation following Bodhidharma’s methods.24 He taught these monks a series of 24 Shaolin order. The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: exercises in order to History, Philosophy and Gung cultivate the physical Fu of Shaolin Ch’an, p. 25. health necessary to pursue true spiritual development. The nature of these practices remains a topic of great debate. Many martial arts enthusiasts claim that Bodhidharma taught the Shaolin monks the martial arts as they were practiced centuries later. Others claimed that he either created or transmitted the Sinews-Transformation Classic and the Marrow-Cleansing Classic, two exercise systems celebrated amongst 25 Zi, Ying. Shaolin Kung-fu. Hong Kong: Kingsway internatoday’s practitioners of tional publications, 1981, p. 53. Chinese martial arts. Still others attribute to him the teachings of a series of exercises called the 18 lohan,25 a set of exercises derived from yoga. Those that

The effects of martialbased movements upon the mind can range in intensity across several categories, including as an ASC [Alternate States of Consciousness] “inducer” as a means to develop concentration, to cultivate mindfulness and insight, or to empty the mind of conscious thoughts, as a direct method to attain enlightenment, or the symbolic representation of a goal associated with the culmination of a meditative path.22

22 Maliszewski, Michael. “Meditative-Religious Traditions of Fighting Arts and Martial Ways,” p. 40.

So we have not only a theoretical basis through which martial arts could be used by the Shaolin for

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believe Bodhidharma existed and did in fact visit the Shaolin Monastery in Henan generally accept that he taught the Shaolin monks some physical component of health maintenance, and certainly had some impact on how they practiced Chan meditation. But then, if Bodhidharma taught these practices, what would they have originated from, and how did Bodhidharma himself know them? While it is beyond the scope of this paper to do a complete examination into Indian culture and Buddhist teachings, there is one note of particular interest in Indian culture as it relates to the Buddhist practice of the Shaolin Temple. There was a warrior caste known as the Ksatreya (also Kshatriya), which pre-dated the Shakyamuni Buddha. They were described as an elite force typically of royal descent or nobility, who trained from infancy in a wide variety of military and martial arts, both armed and unarmed. Their training was not simply concerned with developing physical prowess; they also focused on the cultivation of body awareness and the development of a high moral character. The Ksatreya were trained in a form of unarmed fighting which utilized wrestling, throws and hand strikes, and which also incorporated mental cultivation through the study of literature, history, religion, 26 Dukes, Terence. The Bodhisattva Warriors, p. 158. esoterica and philo27 Dukes, Terence. The sophy in all their forms.26 Bodhisattva Warriors, p. 169. This martial art was called “vajramukti”, a name meaning “thunderbolt grasped hand,” referring to the concept of having the power of a thunderbolt within the fist.27 The inner teachings were highly secretive and only passed orally from a master (acarya) to disciple (sisya), and the disciple had to be judged as possessing high moral character. It is possible that vajramukti holds a correlation to Shaolin martial practices due to the Shaolin identification with Vajrapani whose name, interestingly enough, translates into “thunderbolt wielder”28 Surely there was some link

between an Indian martial 28 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion art and an Indian martial and the Chinese Martial Arts, deity that were so similar p. 37. in name. It is curious that Meir Shahar goes into such detail about the nature of Vajrapani and his connection to the Shaolin Temple, but neglected to either confirm or deny any connection to vajramukti. While vajramukti was not a Buddhist practice, it did offer excellent instruction in the level of body as experience. Indian martial arts include a conscious observation of the personal changes that occur throughout training, which may develop to a degree 29 Maliszewski, Michael. “Meditative-Religious Tradithat would constitute tions of Fighting Arts and 29 a spiritual path. Dukes Martial Ways,” p. 12. claims that Siddhartha himself, as a son and heir to the reigning monarch, would have been instructed in this art from childhood, and started his spiritual pursuit already “body aware”. It could be argued that such training would have granted him some of the discipline and perseverance necessary to endure the physical mortifications of his ascetic learning, as well as his later work towards enlightenment. It is possible that Bodhidharma, also a nobleborn citizen of South India, would have been instructed in the ways of the Ksatreya in his youth. His accomplishments within the spiritual domain are an obvious indication of his high moral character, which would have made him privy to the inner teachings of the art of vajramukti, should he have chosen to pursue them before his transition to Buddhism. Such martial abilities would have helped explain how a monk would have survived the long and difficult journey from India into China, with all the challenges and dangers he would have had to face. When Bodhidharma decided that it was important for the monks of the Shaolin Monastery to practice physical movements in their spiritual cultiva-

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tion, he understood that they had some level of significance towards the goal of spiritual enlightenment. It would not have taken long for the Shaolin Monastery to shift away from the Indian origin of its practices. One trait the Chinese dynasties have been known for is their disdain for overly foreign concepts, which they typically deemed barbaric. Buddhism, already a teaching from outside the borders of the Chinese empire, had to connect with more familiar Chinese philosophies for it to be widely accepted. An aspect of this transition could have been the replacement of the Indian concepts from vajramukti with Daoist concepts of daoyin and qigong. This would have offered not only a way to strengthen Buddhism’s stance within China but also helped it compete with the Daoist religion. The Daoist practices themselves were not only consistent with many of the core teachings of vajramukti, but also added knowledge of the body to new ways in which to study it as a metaphysical representation. Daoist cultivation exercises such as daoyin and nourishing life (yangsheng) practices were forms of physical movements designed for therapeutic concerns. They believed that the body constituted a system of 30 Schipper, Kristopher. The Daoist Body. Berkeley: Univerharmony between the sity of California press, 1993, union of various manifesp. 156. tations of qi,30 and over 31 Schipper, Kristopher. The time theories of yin yang, Daoist Body. Berkeley: University of California press, 1993, 5 phases (wuxing), and p. 100. 8 trigrams (bagua) were together to create a microcosmic reflection of the myriad of things found in nature.31 The available Daoist canon and manuals of gymnastics and breathing do not presume to enhance military skills. They focused on health and spiritual liberation. The most important element of study for the gymnastic practices was the areas where qi enters and leaves the body, and where it tends to stagnate, 32

not the development of 32 Despeux, Catherine. “Gymnastics: The Ancient fantastic striking ability for Tradition,” Taoist Meditation combat. While in the and Longevity Techniques. Ann early Qing Dynasty, Arbor: University of Michigan, qigong became popular 1989, p. 255. among fighters as a means to cultivate special techniques; the primary intent of the daoyin was to eliminate blockages and coagulations of the energies of the body, opening the barriers to permit a smooth circulation of the body fluids. Through the process of learning about these dynamic forces, which constitute the human body, the practitioner can learn to attune his mind to a state in which he could possess conscious control of them. In his studies on the Chinese perspectives of the body and mind, Hidemi Ishida makes note of how these concepts can be used to develop a conscious awareness of the government of the body, where the state of mind in which one practices is a critical aspect: When, therefore, 33 Ishida, Hidemi. “Body and Mind: The Chinese Perspecthe whole tive,” Taoist Meditation and body is filled with Longevity Techniques. Ann energies, the Arbor. University of Michigan, mind must be pre1989, p. 57. sent in every place at the same time. This in turn means that every tiny and remote part of the body is filled with awareness, and the movements and actions of the body are coordinated to perfection.33 They create a harmony within the body by employing the mind-body connection, thus cultivating not only the mental refinement of the movements of the body, but also learning to use the conscious mind to influence the circulation of qi.

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Even in Daoism, there is the idea of how the practice of ritualized physical movements was only a preliminary stage that was intended to be surpassed. The daoyin gymnastics were intended to facilitate and cultivate the flow of qi, and as such they were secondary to the actual manipulation of qi itself.34 There was a progressive goal of learning the metaphysical patterns of the body so that one could refine the seminal essence of the body (jing) into qi with the combination of daoyin and meditative practice. This transformation continues with the refinement of qi into the more spiritual aspect of shen. At the culmination of this process, the Daoist practitioner would apply the patterns of the self onto the patterns of life, which would then allow one to work towards returning the essence of the self to the primordial void (xu). It is here in particular that the Shaolin teachings strayed from Daoist belief. The Shaolin did not work towards union with the Dao and the attainment of immortality, but towards nirvana and the cessation of attachment. Looking back to the concept of the body as penultimate enlightenment, it is at this stage that the Shaolin monk has learned of the experiential body and the metaphysical representation of the self that he must maintain along the path towards nirvana. The monk must awaken his spiritual self to the illusions of preconceived notions of his role within nature, and liberate himself from all attachments. Meditation was an essential vehicle for freeing the self from its attachment to the worldly concerns that would inevitably induce suffering. Perfection of the body as a metaphysical representation of the cosmos was secondary to reaching the state of nirvana. The greatest danger of the cultivation of the body and mind is the attachment one could develop for the newfound abilities. The realization of either the

body as a source of experience or the body as a metaphysical representation would have signified the cultivation of a vast degree of practice and dedication. They would have encompassed an inspiring level of ability and knowledge, and it would be easy for any person to become attached to such accomplishments. As was stated before, the ultimate goal of the Shaolin monks was enlightenment, which for them represented a destruction of the ego. The physical training was a medium through which they strived to exist fully in the present, without planning for the future or reflecting upon the past. It is with this belief that the training provides an effective form of meditation and an excellent means for practicing right-mindfulness, as well as the other methods of the eightfold path—a series of Buddhist tenets which consisted of right understanding, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right meditation. Stepping back for a moment, it is also important to look at the people who actually formed the population of the monastery. Concepts and principles cannot be properly surveyed without consideration of their human adherents. There are several groups, which can be identified in relation with the Shaolin Monastery. The first group would be the ‘fans’ of the Shaolin Monastery, who simply idealized and romanticized Shaolin training from afar, supporting the fantastic imagery created by works of fiction with only a superficial understanding of its purposes. Next would be those who were accepted only as students, who were allowed to stay and train at the monastery though they were not yet seen as representatives of the order, nor permitted to learn the inner teachings. The third group was monks that had been accepted into the monastery. They included the disciples, as well as the masters that they strove to emulate. Both were given access to the inner teachings and were expected to embody them, although the disciples did not have the same degree of access or understanding of these teachings that the masters

34 Holcombe, Charles. “The Daoist Origins of the Chinese Martial Arts,” Journal of Asian Martial Arts, Vol. 2, No. 3 (Jan. 1993), p. 15.

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possessed. The fourth and final group was the abbots. They remained in a group of their own, as they were the authority over how the monastery operated. The development of magical qigong abilities was a misperception that was perpetuated by fans that had probably never studied at the monasteries themselves. Unfortunately, charlatans who fed off these beliefs by teaching publicly for personal profit took in some people. It was not very difficult to be accepted as a student of the Shaolin Monastery, and while most were sincere in their pursuit of self-growth, others tried to learn the techniques for material gain. Throughout its history, the monastery often offered shelter to those who had a transient livelihood, and at times people stayed at the monastery 35 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion for years, learning and the Chinese Martial Arts, martial arts but never fully p. 76. subscribed to live the life of a monk.35 Students were only expected to obey the seniors, perform their chores, and promise to honour and study the path to enlightenment. It was due in part to this openness that the monastery was sometimes criticised for harbouring bandits and rebels. Only those that demonstrated integrity, intellect, and compassion would be accepted as disciples. The masters knew that knowledge, once imparted, could not be taken back. They had to be careful with whom they would entrust the inner teachings of the order. A disciple would have to adopt a series of vows—such as avoiding conflicts, treating all with courtesy, and maintaining a sense of unity with the order. There are many tales of the lengths monks would have to go to in order to demonstrate their ability to receive and understand the dharma so that a master would accept them as a disciple. One of more extreme examples was the monk Huike. In order to become a disciple of Bodhidharma, Huike is said to have severed his own arm to demonstrate his

acceptance of the corporal 36 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion body as illusion.36 and the Chinese Martial Arts, The most relp. 13. evant to the definition of the principles were the abbots. They were grandmasters of the monastery, having instructed other monks up to the level of a master, and distinguished themselves not only in the ways of the monastery, but as having mastered the art of teaching and transmitting these ways. While not all abbots were seen as having attained true enlightenment, they would have had a profound understanding of the teachings. They would have mastered all knowledge that was conveyed in the monastery, 37 Shaolin order. The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, and could be consulted for Philosophy and Gung Fu of 37 advice on any domain. Shaolin Ch’an, p. 109. Being in charge of the monastery, the abbot was expected to represent the pinnacle of self development through the Shaolin path. This does not, however, mean that all those who were believed to have attained enlightenment were made abbot of the monastery. There could only ever be a single abbot at any one time, and it did entail administrative duties which some may have seen as detrimental to true spiritual pursuit. Shaolin teachings were known to rely on an oral traditions to emphasize the direct mind-to-mind transmission that was characteristic of Chan Buddhism. This transmission was based on the concept that the Dharma could only be taught from a master to a capable disciple through direct interaction. It was no surprise then that with such standards that there were many tales relating to Shaolin training where people were refused permission to learn the inner teachings. In such tales, these rejected students would either leave the monastery with the knowledge they had learned up to that point, or 38 Dukes, Terence. The find some way to spy on Bodhisattva Warriors, p. 216.

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the monks and learn their techniques. 38 Though this contributed to the propagation of the Shaolin martial techniques, it would have also contributed to the misinterpretation of the spiritual aspects of these techniques. These rejected students would often go on to create “new” systems of their own, many of which were often bereft of any spiritual or religious cultivation. The modern People’s Liberation Army training even incorporates martial arts conditioning that they call Shaolin, but this is simply one of many examples where the name Shaolin is used to represent a highquality form of martial arts. It features neither the Buddhist morality nor the spiritual cultivation that the Shaolin Monastery tried to instruct. The goal here is not to claim that all Chinese martial arts were inherently connected to a religious context. It is only to attempt to penetrate the true principles and concepts of Shaolin practices, which were focused on the attainment of Buddhist enlightenment. As the true techniques of this path were safeguarded secrets, many parts of this argument are simply an attempt to draw together the information available. The Indian origins of the Shaolin Monastery could have been deliberately set aside in order to establish it as an icon of Chinese culture. While the veneration of the Buddhist deity Vajrapani is still recognized as a mythological source of the physical training of Shaolin monks, there is little mention of the martial art vajramukti, which was examined here as possibly being the physical component of the Buddhist teachings brought over by Indian monks such as Bodhidharma. Many sources that discuss the Shaolin order have their own agendas, trying to either idealize or condemn the role of Shaolin martial arts in China’s history. Other sources use the Shaolin Monastery as a basis to promote their own teachings, thus making it difficult to differentiate authentic claims from the misconceptions. Shaolin training has left an undeniable impression on the development of martial arts in China. As a

center for martial arts training during the Ming-Qing period, which many interpret as the golden age of the art, many different teachers legitimized their style by claiming some Shaolin connection. Within the modern world, we still see the wonder over the Shaolin Monastery with many references to it in films and fiction relating to martial arts. The tourism generated by the monastery is a cornerstone of the economy of the surrounding county, and modern Shaolin monks can live a comfortable lifestyle by opening a martial arts school to teach eager western students. This does not validate the concept that Shaolin training was originally intended to create actual fighters. It was the by-product of techniques that were intended for spiritual purposes. When Shaolin training began to be recognized as a fighting art, they were only famous for staff work and bare handed fighting, both of which were not seen as being very useful in the field of battle. A general would want archers, spearmen and swordsmen, not staff fighters or boxers. The Shaolin Monastery itself has not been documented as having launched its own military campaign. The monks that involved themselves in violence did so of their own volition, not as some force sent out by the abbots. The present day Shaolin Monastery in Henan serves as a cultural icon rather than a true Buddhist monastery. There was a deliberate effort on behalf of the Communist government in 1949 to eliminate any religious or martial training that occurred up Mount Song. It was only after 1984 that the monastery was 39 Shaolin order.The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, repaired and reopened Philosophy and Gung Fu of due to its cultural imShaolin Ch’an, p. 94. portance.39 While thousands of people now train at Mount Song, most become soldiers, bodyguards, police officers or film stars. Few stay on at the mountain to teach martial arts and even fewer try to pick up the religious concepts of Shaolin teachings and become

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monks. It was only in 1999 that a new abbot was instated at the monastery, and this was one selected not by any religious authority, but by the Chinese Communist Party, a devoutly atheistic organization. Historically, Shaolin has been a long continuum of nameless monks. Every once in a while, a particular Shaolin monk becomes famous (or infamous) and this typically marks the end of spiritual development for that individual. Better luck next incarnation.40

40 Shaolin order: The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, Philosophy and Gung Fu of Shaolin Ch’an, p. 19.

Though the physical cultivation of Shaolin training created the body of a fighter, this was only the study of the body as a source of experience. The true purpose was to cultivate the mind of a pacifist, the Buddha. This entailed the acceptance of our humanity and position within nature, awakening to the four noble truths, and following the eightfold path. —AJ Notes Adolphson, Mikael. The Teeth and Claws of the Buddha: Monastic Warriors and Sohei in Japanese History. Honolulu: The University of Hawaii Press. 2007. Bäck, Allan and Kim, Daeshik. “Pacifism and the Eastern Martial Arts,” Philosophy East and West, Vol. 32, No. 2 (Apr., 1982), pp. 177–186. Despeux, Cath-

erine. “Gymnastics: The Ancient Tradition,” Taoist Meditation and Longevity Techniques. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1989. Dukes, Terence. The Bodhisattva Warriors. San Francisco, Red Wheel. 1994 Engelhardt, Ute. “Qi for Life: Longevity in the Tang,” Taoist Meditation and Longevity Techniques. Ann

Arbor: University of Michigan, 1989. Henning, Stanley E. “Academia Encounters the Chinese Martial Arts,” China Review International, Vol. 6, No. 2 (Fall 1999), pp. 319–322. Henning, Stanley E. “Martial Arts in Historical Perspective,” Military Affairs, Vol. 45, No. 4. (Dec. 1981) pp. 173–179. Holcombe, Charles. “The Dao-

117 ist Origins of the Chinese Martial Arts,” Journal of Asian Martial Arts, Vol. 2, No. 3 (Jan. 1993). pp. 10–26. Ishida, Hidemi. “Body and Mind: The Chinese Perspective,” Taoist Meditation and Longevity Techniques. Ann Arbor. University of Michigan, 1989. Maliszewski, Michael. “Medita-

By Tim Quijano

tive-Religious Traditions of Fighting Arts and Martial Ways,” Journal of Asian Martial Arts. Vol. 1, No. 3 (July 1992), pp. 1–65. Schipper, Kristopher. The Daoist Body. Berkeley: University of California press, 1993 Shahar, Meir. The Shaolin Monastery: History, Religion and the Chinese Martial

Arts. Honolulu: University of Hawaii press, 2008. Shaolin order. The Shaolin Grandmasters’ Text: History, Philosophy and Gung Fu of Shaolin Ch’an. Beaverton: The Shaolin Order, 2004. Zi, Ying. Shaolin Kung-fu. Hong Kong: Kingsway international publications, 1981.

Banned In China? Contemporary Chinese Film, the Complicity of the Communist Party, and the Misjudgment of Western Journalism

Chinese filmmakers have manipulated the cinematic experience to engender a wide variety of consequences, each determined by the cultural, economic, or political environment in which the film was produced. Modern film in the People’s Republic of China (PRC) may be primarily understood through its relationship to the political economy of the state. Since the Communist Party of China (CPC) assumed political control of the mainland in 1949, it has viewed film as an effective tool in promoting its agenda; this is turn significantly impacting

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the Chinese film industry. The first few years of Party-rule1 saw vast changes in political attention to film: a ban on Western films, Chinese students being sent to Russia to study Soviet film and the establishment of the Beijing Film Academy.2 Each successive campaign through which the CPC has modified its socioeconomic policies has created an alternate dominant film movement. The most recent major transition has seen the Sixth Generation3 filmmakers usurp those of the Fifth Generation with a style that more appropriately accommodates 3 These terms refer to pethe dominant philosophy riods of the history of Chinese of the CPC.4 While mafilm whose environment engendered collective characny contemporary Chinese teristics. The Fifth generation films advertise themarose during the mid-1980s; selves as controversial the Sixth Generation in the works, often quoting a mid-1990s. western source of popular 4 I am categorizing the New Documentary movement media5, filmmakers often under the Sixth Generation for exist in variable, “complex simplicity. relationships” with State 5 For example, Lou Ye’s actors as opposed to antaSummer Palace, 颐和园, gonistic dissidence as is employs this type of advertisement on the American sensationally presented in Digital Video Disc (DVD) cases. Western journalism.6 Amongst the description of Contrarily, the a controversial mixture of sex CPC is complicit in the and politics from The New York increasing legitimacy of Times, the bottom of the case reads, “BANNED IN CHINA,” the Sixth Generation an irrelevancy, aside from the of contemporary Chinese marketing service it provides. film. I will argue that the 6 Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema CPC played a pivotal role during the Era of Reform: The in the rise of the Sixth Ingenuity of the System, p. 212.

Generation of Chinese ci7 Pickowicz establishes the difference between the two nema by establishing terms most often enabled to institutional changes that describe Sixth Generation encouraged the devefilmmaking: underground and lopment of the defining independent. First, underground, 地下, is “preferred by characteristics of the overseas media and embodies Sixth Generation—underexpectations of the subversive 7 ground , low-budget function” of nonstate film. filmmaking with the freeMany western writers misuse dom to address topics underground, in its suggestion of political opposition, when considered inappropriate independent is much more for mainstream, stateappropriate. Independent, on funded films. the other hand, is preferred To exhibit the by the filmmakers likely because governmental framework of the connotations of the translation, 独立. This term that encouraged the communicates a film’s indedevelopment of the Sixth pendence from the State Generation, I will begin film “production, distribution, by describing the Fifth Genexhibition” (viii–ix, 6). eration, focusing on 8 Pickowicz enables this term to describe the manner the relationship that this in which “it is in the State’s group of filmmakers interest” to allow young has maintained with the liberals “blow off steam” in the governmental actors relatively unknown underin attempts to secure fundground film sector rather than having that stress build up ing for their productions. to an organized level of, for Then I will present the reaexample, the Tiananmen sons for explicit governSquare Incident (7). mental liberalization that 9 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, influenced the developYingjin. From Underground to Independent: Alternative ment of one of the Sixth Film Culture in Contemporary Generation’s characterChina. Lanham, MD: Rowman istics: the understanding & Littlefield, 2006, p. 7–8. of the limitations of a medium that expects a very small, politically harmless size of viewership, the growing conception of film as a pressure release valve 8, and the ability of the films to display a softer image of China internationally.9

1 I will use the following terms to refer to the one party governing structure of China: the CPC, the PRC, the State and the Party. 2 Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema during the Era of Reform: The Ingenuity of the System. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers, 2003, p. 6.

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The Fifth Generation The Fifth Generation of Chinese cinema came to prominence as the first cinematic movement under the reform era. The increasing marketing that defined the country in this period (1980s–1990s) infiltrated the film production sector, developing commercial traits to stay afloat in what Zhu refers to as “the increasingly competitive cultural market.”10 Several political initiatives instituted by the CPC directly encouraged the marketing so definitive to the Fifth Generation. The Economic Reform Agenda 10 Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema during the Era of Reform: The of 1984 began the string Ingenuity of the System, p. 19. of governmental stipula11 Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema tions determining the during the Era of Reform: The future of Chinese cinema Ingenuity of the System, p. 211. 12 The analysis of film reby prompting “the decenquires categorization of the tralization and privatizathree primary functions of film tion of the tate-supported as demonstrated in Ying film infrastructure.”11 This Zhu’s theory: the artistic realm, shift changed the CPC’s the commercial sphere and the socio-cultural field (includunderstanding of film as a ing that of the political). One propaganda institution, work may enable one, two oriented toward the distrior all three of these functions bution and enforcement of to produce the desired end. party ideology, to a cultural institution, oriented 12 toward economic gain. This reform gave filmmakers the freedom to confront topics aside from party philosophy at the expense of financial support in the state film production studios. Initially, the independent film industry struggles, unable to compete in the difficult market, while the state-supported television industry succeeds with its continued categorization as a propaganda institution. Fiscal matters, specifically, the manner in which filmmakers were to attain funding for their films, continued to dictate the cinematic direction in this era.

Zhu demonstrates that the increasing commercialization of Chinese film is a result of “individual filmmakers’ unconscious, individual survival instincts” when confronted with the restricted funding of State film.13 Filmmakers such as Zhang Yimou and Tian Zhuang13 Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema during the Era of Reform: The zhuang thus sought capiIngenuity of the System, p. 211. tal from foreign investors to fund their films. The Fifth Generation sought to further their international support by making Chinese movies for international audiences instead of appealing to domestic interests. For example, these films employed artificial folk customs presented as genuinely Chinese.14,15 The outward-looking orientation succeeded in bringing international attention to Chinese cinema, particularly at film 14 Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema during the Era of Reform: The festivals. Awards were Ingenuity of the System, p. 17. showered upon these new15 Zhu provides an excellent ly international filmmaksummary of the research that ers—the Golden Bear examines the post-colonial mechanisms shaping the Fifth for Zhang Yimou’s Red Generation’s creation of a Sorghum, the Palme Chinese cultural variant, easily d’Or for Chen Kaige’s Faredigestible and consumable well My Concubine and for western audiences. Edward an Academy Award for Saïd’s Orientalism applies to the tweaking of Chinese Zhang Yimou’s Ju Dou. cultural artifacts for Western International funding and capitalism. Zhang Jinu applies acclaim gave the moveFrederic Jameson’s “national ment the particularly interallegories” to the Fifth Genational outlook for neration’s reinterpretation of Chinese culture. which it is known, but this internationalism eventually came to be the Fifth Generation’s Achilles heel.16 The insincere manipulation of indigenous culture in order to serve external capitalist interests eventually became obvious, shattering the relevance of these films to domestic Chinese concerns.16 The result

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16 Zhang, Yingjin; Xiao, Zhiwei; et al. Encyclopedia of Chinese Film. London; New York: Routledge, 1998, p. 30.

void in its place.

was a full-on existential crisis, the Fifth Generation gradually falling out of influence both abroad and domestically, leaving a

The Sixth Generation The Sixth Generation has subsequently risen to prominence, this being abetted by the recent trend of State film production houses co-opting primary actors of the movement. This co-option is one of the final steps in a long line of political legitimization of independent Chinese film for various reasons centered on recognition of the minimization of the political threat to the CPC posed by filmmakers—this being marked by their limited audience, by their categorization as a pressure release, and by the image they present of China to Western audiences. Deng Xiaoping, on a tour of the then experimental Special Economic Zone (SEZ) of Shenzhen, declared, “while bourgeois liberalization is cause for concern, leftist Maoism is the real danger to the Chinese.” This statement encouraged many independent artists to present their ideas and works more publicly. Although, one must be aware of the discrepancy between high and low art (that is the inaccessible and the accessible) in considering enforcement of the CPC’s censorship policies. The CPC has been known to jail those who actually pose a significant threat to the legitimacy of their rule, such as labor and human rights activists, whereas the “artistic rowdies were [and are] grudgingly tolerated” in their relative inaccessibility and obscurity.17 The CPC allowed for these independent films of the Sixth Generation 17 Barmé, Geremie R. In the to address topics that were Red: On Contemporary considered taboo for Chinese Culture. New York: the state-run film producColumbia University Press, tion studios.18 1999, p. 181.

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This governmen18 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, Yingjin. From Underground to tal legitimization is Independent: Alternative Film not without boundaries, Culture in Contemporary however. There are China, p. 6–7. two strict rules: no challenges to the one party rule and no attempts to mass mobilize against the party.19 If the State Administration of Radio, Film and Television (SARFTA) determines that a film that you have produced independent of the State’s film production and distribution institutions violates one of 18 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, Yingjin. From Underground to these regulations, Independent: Alternative SARFTA will ban you from Film Culture in Contemporary filmmaking.19,20 There China, p. 6–7. are loopholes, however: 19 Tian Zhuangzhuang, for example, was banned for Barmé states that systen years after he indepentematic corruption allows dently released his The Blue for filmmakers to get away Kite, depicting the devasta20 with nuanced messages. tion of the Anti-Rightist CamThe size of the paign (Hinson). The uncle of the narrator, Shaolong, is audience that views sent to labor reform, essenthe films ensures CPC that tially to fulfill a rightist quota. they are relatively inca20 Barmé, Geremie R. In the pable of provoking the Red: On Contemporary widespread dissent that Chinese Culture, p. 320. 21 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, would challenge the Yingjin. From Underground legitimacy of one-party to Independent: Alternative rule over the Peoples’ Film Culture in Contemporary 21 Republic. Two situational China, p. 11. realities, in conjunction, make the viewership of independently produced films necessarily small. First, the Sixth Generation is an art film movement. Ying Zhu defines art film as those works that relegate market concerns in favour of “artistic exploration.”22 This exploration may be understood as a marker of high cultural status, which is by definition a small and exclusive status marker (the high needs a low). Second,

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the CPC controls the distribution of film: marketing, theatres, and purchase.23 The relative inaccessibility of the Sixth Generation, in terms of both availability and content, restrict the size of viewership and allow for the catharsis of artistic freedom without the need for the oppression of strict censorship. The artistic freedom as well as the ability to provide employment for otherwise underemployed filmmakers contributed to the second reason that the CPC was complicit in the development of the Sixth Generation—“the pressure release valve”. The films of the Sixth Generation provide engagement for a vast, underutilized pool of young talent. The state-supported film production studios are fully employed with older party members, wholly uninterested in the dynamism, but also competition, younger filmmakers would bring to the state sector. Rather, these filmmaking party-members choose to restrict the Sixth Generation filmmakers to the alternative culture. Further, the CPC’s relegation of the Sixth Generation filmmakers to alternative culture demonstrates the legitimacy of the alternative culture in contemporary Chinese culture. As the Sixth Generation has grown in popularity, the CPC has chosen to support some of the movement’s most influential, successful filmmakers, even those who have produced films that have been banned by the Party such as Zhang Yuan and Jia Zhangke. These two demonstrate an acceptable pattern of transitioning between the production of both state and independent films consecutively. The ease of the transition from state to independent film as well as the government sponsorship of filmmakers who continue to produce in both sectors indicate a significant Party complicity in the actions of the independent sec-

tor, and more specifically, that these two spheres of cultural production are not antagonistic.24 The films of the Sixth Generation have 24 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, Yingjin. From Underground to displayed to the global Independent: Alternative Film audience a relatively unCulture in Contemporary paralleled level of arChina, p. 7–10. tistic freedom exercised 25 24 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, Yingjin. From Underground to under the CPC’s rule.25 Independent: Alternative Film These works, in their Culture in Contemporary pushing the envelope of China, p. 8. CPC regulation, fill a 26 Barmé, Geremie R. In the critical niche art market in Red: On Contemporary Chinese Culture, p. 191. the West as possibly controversial works from the “last totalitarian empire.”26 Sensational Western critics, in their antagonistic understanding of the dynamic between the filmmakers and the CPC, have developed a tendency to classify any unofficial Chinese film as avant-garde dissent. The Western journalistic tendency to emphasize a prejudiced report on the antagonism between the CPC and Chinese cultural producers grew dramatically after the Tiananmen Square incident.

22 Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema during the Era of Reform: The Ingenuity of the System, p. 4. 23 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, Yingjin. From Underground to Independent: Alternative Film Culture in Contemporary China.

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The Post-Tiananmen Square Incident Shift June 4, 1989 revived the primacy of discourse describing the East-West dynamic antagonistically, and thus any unofficial film as an avant-garde challenge to the CPC (Whiting). While earlier sections of this paper minimize the justification of this claim, Sixth 27 Whiting, Susan. “Relations Between the United States and Generation filmmakers China (Lecture).” 3 Dec. 2008. encouraged this simplified understanding in order to attract spectators in the West, furthering their ability to procure funding for future films and eventually secure state funding. Zhang Yuan’s pioneering Beijing

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28 Barmé, Geremie R. In the Red: On Contemporary Chinese Culture, p. 195. 29 Barmé, Geremie R. In the Red: On Contemporary Chinese Culture, p. 195. 30 The Fifth Generation developed the international funding, but Zhang Yuan was the first to enable this funding to produce films that addressed contemporary society as opposed to the folk history of the Fifth Generation’s films. Many lesser-known contemporary filmmakers have full-time jobs in the State-run television production studios. 31 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, Yingjin. From Underground to Independent: Alternative Film Culture in Contemporary China, p. 6. 32 Barmé, Geremie R. In the Red: On Contemporary Chinese Culture, p. 194–195. 33 Barmé suggests, in his In The Red, that a filmmaker may attain easy success with these vulgarities in his chapter, “Kowtow to the Vulgar.” I disagree with this simplification, particularly when it is shoved upon Zhang’s Beijing Bastards. Zhang’s film, in its presentation of vulgar culture, was simply trying to represent the characters of that culture accurately. This film was an attempt to combat the artificiality of the Fifth Generation’s folkloric appeal. 34 Zhang, Yingjin; Xiao, Zhiwei; et al. Encyclopedia of Chinese Film. London; New York: Routledge, 1998, p. 245.

Bastards produced what is currently understood as the Sixth Generation’s prototypical path to successful filmmaking: alternate funding, overseas and underground “bankable dissent” and finally the CPC’s “official ban.”28 First, Zhang initially acquired funding for his films from making music videos and later from international production companies.29,30 The second and most crucial aspect of the Zhang formula is addressing topics taboo to the State-run studios, but critical to contemporary urban Chinese culture.31 For Zhang in the early 1990s, this involved depicting underground currents of dysfunction, decay and disaffection in the age of Chinese economic success: sex, larceny and partying all set in a gloomy atmosphere. 32,33 Zhang also used rock music in an attempt to “forge an identity for social outcasts during a period of existential crisis in urban Chinese life.”34 Barmé understands Beijing Bastards’ description of the taboo topics, which

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were later to become defining characteristics of the Sixth Generation, as “bankable dissent.” This term refers to “semi-illicit works” that generate credibility by posing an “alleged challenge” to the repression of CPC control “regardless of actual merit.”35 Pickowicz has suggested that the success of this strategy has encouraged young filmmakers to produce “controversial” 35 Barmé, Geremie R. In the Red: On Contemporary films to garner the attenChinese Culture, p. 188. tion of the State and 36 Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, thus international financYingjin. From Underground ing.36 The third aspect to Independent: Alternative Film Culture in Contemporary of the Zhang strategy seeks China, p. 10. the CPC ban to prove the 37 This alleged controversy legitimacy of controversial may be understood as a topics.37 The success marketing tool as much as an of Zhang’s path prompted attempt to actually challenge the government. As Pickowicz later Sixth Generation states, the actual effect of filmmakers to mimic this these films is minimal (Underformula, which resulted ground to Independent 11). in a high level of cultural 38 It is important to distinguish critique in Sixth Generacultural critique from political critique of the CPC, a distinction tion films.38 that many Western media sources ignore.

The Sixth Generation and the Direction of Chinese Cinema The Sixth Generation has greatly expanded the range of topics available for consideration in Chinese film, but the success of the movement currently depends on the Sixth Generation’s existence in the cultural periphery. Therefore, the future of the moment depends on the direction of marketing reforms and the Sixth Generation’s sustained opposition to such marketing and the artificiality it may breed. But, as the second Chinese cinematic movement to witness filmmakers’ transition from 39 The first to make this producing banned movies transition is the Fifth Generato State-funded films, 39 tion.

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40 Lim, Dennis. “Blurring Reality’s Edge in Fluid China.” New York Times 20 Jan. 2008, natl ed. Online. 41 This State-funded film addresses negative cultural consequences of globalization, filmed in the setting of the Beijing theme park, The World. Notes Barmé, Geremie R. In the Red: On Contemporary Chinese Culture. New York: Columbia University Press, 1999. Braester, Yomi. “Chinese Cinema in the Age of Advertisement: The Filmmaker as a Cultural Broker.” The China Quarterly 183 Sept. 2005: 549-564. Braester, Yomi. “From Underground to Independent: Alternative Film Culture in Contemporary China. (Book Review).” The China Quarterly. 193 Mar. 2008: 183-185. Braester, Yomi. “The Political Campaign as Genre: Ideology and Iconography during the Seventeen Years Period.” Modern Language

the movement has decreased the state’s influence in setting the tone for debate of topical issues, as seen in Jia Zhangke’s The World.41,40 —TQ

Quarterly 69.1 Mar. 2008: 119-140. Calkins, M.L. “Censorship in Chinese Cinema.” Communication Abstracts 23.3 Beverly Hills, CA: Sage Publications, 2000. Davis, Deborah; Kraus, Richard; Naughton, Barry; Perry, Elizabeth. Urban Spaces in Contemporary China. Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press Syndicate, 1995. Hinson, Hal. “The Blue Kite.” Washington Post 5 Aug. 1994: C2. Online. Lim, Dennis. “Blurring Reality’s Edge in Fluid China.” New York Times 20 Jan. 2008, natl ed. Online. Pickowicz, Paul; Zhang, Yingjin. From Underground to Independent: Alternative Film

Culture in Contemporary China. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006. Whiting, Susan. “Relations Between the United States and China (Lecture).” 3 Dec. 2008. Zhang, Yingjin; Xiao, Zhiwei; et al. Encyclopedia of Chinese Film. London; New York: Routledge, 1998. Zhang, Zhen. The Urban Generation: Chinese Cinema and Society at the Turn of the Twenty-First Century. Durham: Duke University Press, 2007. Zhu, Ying. Chinese Cinema during the Era of Reform: The Ingenuity of the System. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers, 2003.