Sunday, April 16, 2017
A short review: The Mapping of Taiwan
The Mapping of Taiwan
Jerome Keating
Available at eslite, Bookstore 1920s and elsewhere
(Photo coming soon)
I've had this book for awhile, but until recently had only really used it to peruse the gorgeous maps inside. That's really the main purpose of this slim, oversize book: to have large-size prints on hand of some of the most well-known maps of Taiwan through history. I'd go so far as to say that for that purpose, it is essentially a coffee table book.
And my, does it look good on a coffee table. The cover is gorgeous and the maps engaging. Years ago someone gave me a calendar of old maps of Taiwan (I saved the pages for later art projects), and was pleased to see many of the calendar reprints I'd lovingly découpaged to gift boxes, file folders and cards present in this book.
What this means is, if you're looking at this book as an academic resource, you will be disappointed. Will you learn something? Sure - I had not known, for example, that Koxinga was able to land his invasion thanks to a small inlet that would allow ships into the harbor near Tainan at high tide, for example. I had known that Taiwan was, at one point, portrayed on some maps as three islands but did not realize how common this was, or the plethora of other ways it was inaccurately drawn or placed. I had not been aware that cartographers used to regularly place Taiwan above or below, rather than directly situated on, the Tropic of Cancer where it belongs. All of this was engaging enough to keep me reading.
There isn't much to read though - which perhaps is appropriate for the The Mapping of Taiwan's ultimate purpose as a repository for, well, maps. The entire book, sans references, is perhaps 120 pages long. Of those, whole sections are devoted entirely to maps. You could read the text of the book in one ambitious morning. That's a good thing - the generous dimensions of the book make it an infeasible choice to bring to a cafe to read.
The text of The Mapping of Taiwan is ambitious and comprehensive in its breadth, covering the Dutch spice trade, the Spanish Asia-to-Acapulco route, Portuguese ambitions and even the colonization of the Philippines (in very broad strokes). The depth in these areas is perhaps lacking, but a deeper cut into such a wide swath of cartographic history would take volumes. Where I'd have liked to have seen more depth was in the portions of text devoted to Taiwan itself. For example, much of present-day Tainan is on reclaimed land: the littoral borders of the area have changed significantly since the Dutch colonial and Ming loyalist eras. Maps demonstrating this must exist, and would be a fascinating addition to this volume. The book is divided into sections by era: in one of the later sections, more in-depth text, with accompanying maps, of cities in Taiwan under the Japanese, or maps of indigenous areas by tribe would have also been worthy additions.
This, all in all, leads to my biggest criticism of the book: there are many, many maps of Taiwan as a whole, but very few of specific regions or cities. This makes sense in the early chapters when novbody who made maps knew enough about Taiwan to depict it in such detail (or even depict its overall shape correctly). Later, however, a great wealth of maps exist of growing Taiwanese cities and regions - several gorgeous maps of Taipei under the Japanese exist. I've seen them (one of my favorite bookshops, in a rambling shophouse near Longshan Temple, has a huge one framed in the main room). These ought to have been included and would have been more worthy additions than, say, a photograph of a Russian ship that is not related to the main narrative.
These might be more pointed criticisms for a more academic work, but, as a short narrative full of large illustrations with great aesthetic value, I would not say this is a fatal flaw. I would still recommend it as an engaging read, a personal collection of beautiful maps, a worthy addition to a tabletop, and certainly as a gift.
Labels:
book_reviews,
books,
books_about_taiwan,
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maps,
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Saturday, April 15, 2017
On sacrifice, history and what we are 'owed'
I've received a fair amount of feedback, most of it positive, regarding the case I made recently for allowing dual nationality to all foreigners. But, there are a few points I'd like to clarify here, which I think merit further discussion.
On selfishness and sacrifice
The first is this idea that, impossible or not, to decline to renounce one's original citizenship is somehow inherently selfish - to want the best of both, or to be unwilling to make any sacrifices.
I understand this as an instinctive first reaction - it's one of those "makes sense on its face" arguments - but with even a bit of dissection falls apart.
First, I reject on its face the notion that a person should have to make massive sacrifices to be a part of the society of the country they call home. That's not the argument I want to make, but I want to put that core idea out there. Some people take this further, and try to justify giving missionaries dual nationality on the basis of their "sacrifices" for the good of the communities they live in, but that the rest of us don't because we live more comfortable lives.
First, let's be clear: missionaries are not selfless. The good works they do - and they do some good things, I admit, and I don't think they're bad people - are done with their own goals in mind: converting members of the community to their faith, which is a benefit to the churches that often fund their missions. I still think they deserve a path to citizenship despite fundamentally disagreeing with the notion of evangelizing, because I think anyone who has decided to make Taiwan their permanent home and contributes to it in some way deserves that path. However, this argument is then extended and ends up somewhere around "you have a nice apartment and a job and therefore you don't deserve citizenship", which I quite literally do not understand as a logical conclusion. Do we really judge who gets to be a member of society based on whether they have wood floors or not? "You live well so you don't deserve political representation"? Really?
I get it, I really do - the idea is that we already have good lives, so we shouldn't want more. However, wanting political representation and to live a normal life as a member of society is not the same at all as having a couch that is not from IKEA (though honestly, if we hadn't inherited the couch we do have from the former tenant, our couch would absolutely be an IKEA model). The logical conclusion of this is that you should not agitate politically if you are comfortable economically, but economics and politics are separate things. I don't want more money - I want to be a member of society.
That said, I really don't want to make it my main argument - I want to point out the ridiculousness of it and move on.
Here's the thing about assuming that renouncing one's original citizenship is a 'sacrifice' and to not want to do so is 'selfish'.
To take the only path to citizenship currently available to me, I would have to quite literally renounce my core values. As much as I complain about the US and insist on my own self-sufficiency and freedom, fundamentally I believe in caring for one's family when they need it. I have already written about why I must retain American citizenship if the need to care for my father arises, and won't repeat myself.
I will, however, point out that the selfish act here would be to abandon my family for my own desires vis-a-vis my life in Taiwan. It is, if anything, a sacrifice that I do not pursue this route, because family, should they need me, trumps what I want in this regard. I would also point out that this means that asking me to renounce American citizenship is tantamount to asking me to put my desires over the needs of said family, and to essentially change who I am as a person - to be willing to be the sort of cold-hearted individual who would choose her immediate satisfaction over possible future family caretaking.
I mean it - I will give Taiwan what they want in any other regard. They want money? I'll pay it. They want me to get my PhD and become a professor, even though I'm happier (and I think a more effective teacher and contributor to the field) outside the academic bureaucracy and would normally stop at a Master's? I'll do it. Mandate that 36-year-old women must also do military service? I'll do it. Pound of flesh? That can be arranged. Start a charity and work at it as my main cause? Already considering it, though kind of hard to do if I'm going to go the academic route until I'm finished shuttling back and forth between Taiwan and the UK for my degree(s).
But I will not abandon my family.
For a culture that places so much emphasis on being filial, you would think the Taiwanese government would understand this.
All that aside, I fundamentally find the idea that wanting to be closer to - rather than maintaining and enforced distance from - the society of the country one calls home is inherently selfish in some way. That wanting to participate civically is selfish - I thought civic duty was meant to be an act of giving? I truly don't understand the logic here, that it is somehow a problem or indicative of bad character that I'd want these things.
On history
I also got a very interesting comment on my assertion that "Taiwanese history is not my history". The point that was made was that if we expect the descendants of the 1945-1949 KMT diaspora, as well as those who took part in it who are still alive, to consider their history to be intertwined with "Taiwanese" history rather than Chinese history, how can we decline to do the same?
However, I'm not saying I won't do the same. I gladly will.
In fact, the ten years of Taiwanese history that have occurred while I've lived here are my history - I live here too. If we stay permanently and do get citizenship, when I am old I will look back on my life and perhaps then think of myself as Taiwanese, and Taiwanese history being my history.
What I meant by that comment was, the agonies and successes of Taiwanese history that happened to the ancestors of the Taiwanese alive today did not happen to my ancestors. I don't want to appropriate or seem like I am appropriating that legacy. The sum of history and cultural legacy that made me who I am, compared to that of my Taiwanese friends, is different, and I feel it's OK to admit that while still hoping to assimilate more. The idea is to avoid "you owe me your history, culture and legacy!" and instead aim for "I would like to be a part of your society if you'll have me, and as I do want it badly, I would like to make a case for that."
On being "owed" something
There is a popular meme going around that shows a blank piece of paper with a title along the lines of "a comprehensive list of everything you are entitled to and the world owes you".
It's cute, and I get the instinctive reaction to agree. However, I actually don't fully believe that - if you live in the forest as hermit who doesn't pay taxes or contribute to a society in any way, the world owes you nothing, that's true. But if you are expected to pay taxes, obey laws, support yourself, contribute to the economy and civic life of a society, in fact, I do believe that society owes you something in return. This is the basic argument for why societies that can do so owe their citizens a social safety net, and I happen to agree with it. Like dedication to family, it is a core value.
That, again, is not the argument I want to make however. I just want to point out that that line of thinking is inherently flawed.
What I want to say is this: I didn't come to Taiwan already knowing citizenship was almost impossible to obtain, and thinking I'd just complain about it whenever I decided I happened to want it. It was a much more organic process. I came here thinking I'd stay for two or three years, but Taiwan, being like Hotel California (as someone once put it to me), has made it so I can check out any time I like, but it seems I can never (don't want to) leave. Only then did I decide to advocate for the chance to participate more fully - after I'd already been here for a decade, contributed in the same way citizens who were born here have done, and tried to be a net benefit to this country rather than a drain on it. I was already here contributing when my thoughts on this topic became defined, not standing on the outside banging on the door.
Do I think, for all of this, that I am "owed" citizenship? Well, no, not in the sense that every country gets to decide for itself what foreigners can and cannot have. I think I've earned it, but I don't think I'm 'owed' it, at least not in the world we live in.
Taiwan, however, is a country that has increasingly insisted it is based on shared cultural values rather than ethnocentric nationalism. They themselves insist that one does not need to be from a particular ethnicity, culture or group to be 'Taiwanese'. Their history museum in Tainan even has a plaque saying so!
If they truly believe this, and this is the kind of country they want to build, it is hypocritical to then make it difficult for those who lack blood ties to Taiwan who are not the lords and ladies of the 1% (or missionaries) to be a part of that society. If they really believe it, they need to stop setting up impossible barriers (and, as I've explained, the need to renounce is an impossible barrier for many of us) and allowing double standards for naturalized vs. born citizens. If they want to keep up that rhetoric, they do owe the people they're talking about a shot at actually being 'Taiwanese'. Forcing us to be perpetual outsiders who can't even have a mortgage or vote for the leaders whose governance affects us is the opposite of this sentiment. It's having your cake and eating it too.
On radical social change
I've also heard the argument that changing the law so completely cannot be done quickly because Taiwan progresses slowly, and to do otherwise would constitute 'radical social change' that would somehow cause problems for society.
This is wrong.
Just as marriage equality is not 'radical social change' but rather a logical expansion of human rights and recognizing what, for many couples, is already true, allowing immigrants in Taiwan to naturalize as dual citizens is not radical. We're already here and already contributing - not much will change as a result. All it is doing is expanding the scope of the rights of people who live in Taiwan, and acknowledging what is already true about our lives here.
Most Taiwanese, when made aware of the double standards that currently exist, voice support for creating a more possible and reasonable path to citizenship for foreign residents. They too are done with ethnocentrism, whether it's Hoklo or Han chauvinism. It is not scandalous or radical to then make the necessary political changes reflecting this.
I don't believe a change like this would result in an influx of people hoping to get citizenship - at least not among white collar workers (I don't believe in dividing who can have dual nationality and who can't based on social class, I'm just pointing out a reality.) Most would come, and eventually leave. Those who stay long enough - seems like it would have to be about ten years to get an APRC and then citizenship - would have demonstrated enough of a commitment to Taiwan to merit naturalization. Most importantly, they'd already be here. It would be a mere formalization of the status they already possess.
On selfishness and sacrifice
The first is this idea that, impossible or not, to decline to renounce one's original citizenship is somehow inherently selfish - to want the best of both, or to be unwilling to make any sacrifices.
I understand this as an instinctive first reaction - it's one of those "makes sense on its face" arguments - but with even a bit of dissection falls apart.
First, I reject on its face the notion that a person should have to make massive sacrifices to be a part of the society of the country they call home. That's not the argument I want to make, but I want to put that core idea out there. Some people take this further, and try to justify giving missionaries dual nationality on the basis of their "sacrifices" for the good of the communities they live in, but that the rest of us don't because we live more comfortable lives.
First, let's be clear: missionaries are not selfless. The good works they do - and they do some good things, I admit, and I don't think they're bad people - are done with their own goals in mind: converting members of the community to their faith, which is a benefit to the churches that often fund their missions. I still think they deserve a path to citizenship despite fundamentally disagreeing with the notion of evangelizing, because I think anyone who has decided to make Taiwan their permanent home and contributes to it in some way deserves that path. However, this argument is then extended and ends up somewhere around "you have a nice apartment and a job and therefore you don't deserve citizenship", which I quite literally do not understand as a logical conclusion. Do we really judge who gets to be a member of society based on whether they have wood floors or not? "You live well so you don't deserve political representation"? Really?
I get it, I really do - the idea is that we already have good lives, so we shouldn't want more. However, wanting political representation and to live a normal life as a member of society is not the same at all as having a couch that is not from IKEA (though honestly, if we hadn't inherited the couch we do have from the former tenant, our couch would absolutely be an IKEA model). The logical conclusion of this is that you should not agitate politically if you are comfortable economically, but economics and politics are separate things. I don't want more money - I want to be a member of society.
That said, I really don't want to make it my main argument - I want to point out the ridiculousness of it and move on.
Here's the thing about assuming that renouncing one's original citizenship is a 'sacrifice' and to not want to do so is 'selfish'.
To take the only path to citizenship currently available to me, I would have to quite literally renounce my core values. As much as I complain about the US and insist on my own self-sufficiency and freedom, fundamentally I believe in caring for one's family when they need it. I have already written about why I must retain American citizenship if the need to care for my father arises, and won't repeat myself.
I will, however, point out that the selfish act here would be to abandon my family for my own desires vis-a-vis my life in Taiwan. It is, if anything, a sacrifice that I do not pursue this route, because family, should they need me, trumps what I want in this regard. I would also point out that this means that asking me to renounce American citizenship is tantamount to asking me to put my desires over the needs of said family, and to essentially change who I am as a person - to be willing to be the sort of cold-hearted individual who would choose her immediate satisfaction over possible future family caretaking.
I mean it - I will give Taiwan what they want in any other regard. They want money? I'll pay it. They want me to get my PhD and become a professor, even though I'm happier (and I think a more effective teacher and contributor to the field) outside the academic bureaucracy and would normally stop at a Master's? I'll do it. Mandate that 36-year-old women must also do military service? I'll do it. Pound of flesh? That can be arranged. Start a charity and work at it as my main cause? Already considering it, though kind of hard to do if I'm going to go the academic route until I'm finished shuttling back and forth between Taiwan and the UK for my degree(s).
But I will not abandon my family.
For a culture that places so much emphasis on being filial, you would think the Taiwanese government would understand this.
All that aside, I fundamentally find the idea that wanting to be closer to - rather than maintaining and enforced distance from - the society of the country one calls home is inherently selfish in some way. That wanting to participate civically is selfish - I thought civic duty was meant to be an act of giving? I truly don't understand the logic here, that it is somehow a problem or indicative of bad character that I'd want these things.
On history
I also got a very interesting comment on my assertion that "Taiwanese history is not my history". The point that was made was that if we expect the descendants of the 1945-1949 KMT diaspora, as well as those who took part in it who are still alive, to consider their history to be intertwined with "Taiwanese" history rather than Chinese history, how can we decline to do the same?
However, I'm not saying I won't do the same. I gladly will.
In fact, the ten years of Taiwanese history that have occurred while I've lived here are my history - I live here too. If we stay permanently and do get citizenship, when I am old I will look back on my life and perhaps then think of myself as Taiwanese, and Taiwanese history being my history.
What I meant by that comment was, the agonies and successes of Taiwanese history that happened to the ancestors of the Taiwanese alive today did not happen to my ancestors. I don't want to appropriate or seem like I am appropriating that legacy. The sum of history and cultural legacy that made me who I am, compared to that of my Taiwanese friends, is different, and I feel it's OK to admit that while still hoping to assimilate more. The idea is to avoid "you owe me your history, culture and legacy!" and instead aim for "I would like to be a part of your society if you'll have me, and as I do want it badly, I would like to make a case for that."
On being "owed" something
There is a popular meme going around that shows a blank piece of paper with a title along the lines of "a comprehensive list of everything you are entitled to and the world owes you".
It's cute, and I get the instinctive reaction to agree. However, I actually don't fully believe that - if you live in the forest as hermit who doesn't pay taxes or contribute to a society in any way, the world owes you nothing, that's true. But if you are expected to pay taxes, obey laws, support yourself, contribute to the economy and civic life of a society, in fact, I do believe that society owes you something in return. This is the basic argument for why societies that can do so owe their citizens a social safety net, and I happen to agree with it. Like dedication to family, it is a core value.
That, again, is not the argument I want to make however. I just want to point out that that line of thinking is inherently flawed.
What I want to say is this: I didn't come to Taiwan already knowing citizenship was almost impossible to obtain, and thinking I'd just complain about it whenever I decided I happened to want it. It was a much more organic process. I came here thinking I'd stay for two or three years, but Taiwan, being like Hotel California (as someone once put it to me), has made it so I can check out any time I like, but it seems I can never (don't want to) leave. Only then did I decide to advocate for the chance to participate more fully - after I'd already been here for a decade, contributed in the same way citizens who were born here have done, and tried to be a net benefit to this country rather than a drain on it. I was already here contributing when my thoughts on this topic became defined, not standing on the outside banging on the door.
Do I think, for all of this, that I am "owed" citizenship? Well, no, not in the sense that every country gets to decide for itself what foreigners can and cannot have. I think I've earned it, but I don't think I'm 'owed' it, at least not in the world we live in.
Taiwan, however, is a country that has increasingly insisted it is based on shared cultural values rather than ethnocentric nationalism. They themselves insist that one does not need to be from a particular ethnicity, culture or group to be 'Taiwanese'. Their history museum in Tainan even has a plaque saying so!
If they truly believe this, and this is the kind of country they want to build, it is hypocritical to then make it difficult for those who lack blood ties to Taiwan who are not the lords and ladies of the 1% (or missionaries) to be a part of that society. If they really believe it, they need to stop setting up impossible barriers (and, as I've explained, the need to renounce is an impossible barrier for many of us) and allowing double standards for naturalized vs. born citizens. If they want to keep up that rhetoric, they do owe the people they're talking about a shot at actually being 'Taiwanese'. Forcing us to be perpetual outsiders who can't even have a mortgage or vote for the leaders whose governance affects us is the opposite of this sentiment. It's having your cake and eating it too.
On radical social change
I've also heard the argument that changing the law so completely cannot be done quickly because Taiwan progresses slowly, and to do otherwise would constitute 'radical social change' that would somehow cause problems for society.
This is wrong.
Just as marriage equality is not 'radical social change' but rather a logical expansion of human rights and recognizing what, for many couples, is already true, allowing immigrants in Taiwan to naturalize as dual citizens is not radical. We're already here and already contributing - not much will change as a result. All it is doing is expanding the scope of the rights of people who live in Taiwan, and acknowledging what is already true about our lives here.
Most Taiwanese, when made aware of the double standards that currently exist, voice support for creating a more possible and reasonable path to citizenship for foreign residents. They too are done with ethnocentrism, whether it's Hoklo or Han chauvinism. It is not scandalous or radical to then make the necessary political changes reflecting this.
I don't believe a change like this would result in an influx of people hoping to get citizenship - at least not among white collar workers (I don't believe in dividing who can have dual nationality and who can't based on social class, I'm just pointing out a reality.) Most would come, and eventually leave. Those who stay long enough - seems like it would have to be about ten years to get an APRC and then citizenship - would have demonstrated enough of a commitment to Taiwan to merit naturalization. Most importantly, they'd already be here. It would be a mere formalization of the status they already possess.
Saturday, April 8, 2017
Accidental State: A Review
I read this awhile ago, but feel committed to writing up even brief commentary on every book on Taiwan that I pick up, so figure I should write about this before my reactions to it flutter away and I have to rush around trying to recapture them.
That sounds like a milquetoast beginning, but in fact I actually thoroughly enjoyed this book. I appreciated that it was trying to make a case for a line of thinking on the first years of the ROC on Taiwan rather than read as a straight history, and I appreciate that it built up evidence for that case well. The tight focus is also appreciated, narrowing in on the short span of years between the ROC "taking over" Taiwan from Japan, with a few flashbacks to the Chinese Civil War era, up through the KMT's flight to Taiwan and the early 1950s - ending more or less with the 1954 Mutual Defense Treaty.
Lin's argument is simple: nobody - not the ROC, nor the US, nor the Allies, nor Japan, nor the KMT or Communists, nor the United Nations, nor Chiang himself and certainly not Taiwan or the Taiwanese - had ever intended for the ROC or Taiwan to be what it is today. Everything about the making of modern Taiwan as the last holdout of the ROC (which I happen to view as a colonial regime in Taiwan on life support, but that view is not explored in this book) was an accident - Taiwan as it exists today is, then, an accidental state. What, exactly, it was supposed to be or what it might have been better off being remains an unanswered question. Lin explores how, once it was clear Taiwan would no longer be Japanese, the West more or less wanted to see Taiwan in the secure hands of an ally but where not as committed as one might think to that ally necessarily being the ROC (or Chiang Kai-shek, especially), as well as how the ROC itself never intended for Taiwan to be anything other than a part of China. It also makes it quite clear that a self-rule movement did exist that early on in Taiwan itself.
I did learn quite a bit reading Accidental State - much I already knew, such as the background factors that caused the 228 Massacre to play out as it did, but appreciated the further cementing of that knowledge by the narrative, and many details I had not known were filled in. While Lin does not go so far as to imply that Chiang either wanted or intended for something like 228 to happen, he certainly points out that Chiang did not necessarily think that Chen Yi had done anything wrong. The level of detail was mostly about right, and the writing is engaging and offers some depth without being overly academic. I'd say this alone makes it an important read for Taiwan and International Affairs buffs, if not an essential one for someone who is already familiar with the details of Taiwan's status and history in that era and is able to reverse-engineer Lin's central argument from same.
Of course, I have a few quibbles. Lin spends a lot of time discussing the shrinking of the ROC's territory in China, which was legitimately interesting and quite pertinent (and provided a few details my historical readings had missed, such as the final push to maintain ROC control in Yunnan), but mentions only in passing that Chiang, upon fleeing to Taiwan, decided to yet again assume the presidency (he was not in office for a few years - long story, read the book). He goes into loving detail over military shipments as well. From this book, I learned exactly how many carbines the US sent Nationalist guerillas in 1951, among other weapons and munitions (680 if you were curious, which I wasn't really). And yet the Treaty of San Francisco and Treaty of Taipei are given, together, about half a page - about the same as the space given to the entirety of that 1951 shipment. I had gone in hoping for a deeper understanding of these treaties - as I'm not a specialist and do not currently have an understanding I'm satisfied with - and came out, if anything, more confused than before.
There is quite a bit of detail on other military matters - including more lists of arms provided to the fledgling accidental state - but very little on the ideological differences between Chiang Kai-shek and KC Wu, the political slide and eventual execution of Chen Yi, or the reasons why the US spent so much time prevaricating on Chiang himself (I had known the US had not been as wholeheartedly supportive of him or his role in the ROC as many later believed, but I had not realized the extent of their ambivalence). These would have all been of great interest to me had they been explored in more detail, whereas exact munitions counts for military operations that happened in the immediate post-war era? Not so much. I would also argue these issues are more relevant to the ideological evolution of the ROC on Taiwan than, say, how many guns were sent more than half a century ago.
So, all in all, I enjoyed the book and do recommend it, especially for those with moderate, non-specialist historical knowledge but who are not neophytes to Taiwanese history. Go ahead and skim through the lists of war materiel, you aren't going to miss anything, and for a deeper understanding of some of the issues Lin unfortunately glosses over - which would have made for a stronger book if he had gone into more detail - perhaps read up from other sources.
Friday, April 7, 2017
Pass the sausage: a crazy theory about why there aren't many female Taiwan experts
First, let's take a moment to acknowledge Freedom of Speech day in Taiwan, although it is not an official holiday (but should be). Today was the day 28 years ago when activist and writer Nylon Deng self-immolated before his imminent arrest by police after a period of barricading himself in his office. Nylon s best remembered by the activist community in Taiwan for insisting on "100% freedom of speech", and for openly supporting Taiwan independence when it was not quite safe to do so. Today also happens to be the day that Reporters Without Borders announced that they'd open their Asia bureau in Taipei rather than Hong Kong, and I am choosing to believe that this is not a coincidence, even though it probably is.
As it is around the world, activism and feminism tend to go hand-in-hand, although through history many liberals have been supportive of liberal causes yet dismissive of feminist ones, or of women's equality. I remember, when watching the tear-jerking documentary on Nylon in the museum dedicated to him on the site of his self-immolation, an offhand comment that he was "cruel" to his wife and daughter. The moment went by quickly and I haven't re-watched the film, though I will soon as I do own it, but it caused me to reflect on that point.
But that was the 1980s and this is 2017, a time when being a liberal, progressive or activist but not being feminist will cause one serious problems. I do think, then, it is worthwhile to reflect on the presence of women in Taiwan Studies and advocacy around the world, as tenuous as that link may be.
This generally excellent piece came out recently on the Trump-Xi meeting (which I am not commenting on much because I don't have much to say), and it was pointed out that nine Taiwan experts were included, and not one of them was female. "Yup, bit of a sausage fest", it was acknowledged (and I do appreciate the acknowledgement). Of course, that's not to say there aren't any Taiwan experts. Some of my favorite books on Taiwan were written by women (reading this now and loving it), and of course there's the well-known Shelley Rigger (though I have to say I'm not a huge fan of her work for the reasons Michael Turton outlined here). Edit: a few more names I have in fact come across have been pointed out: Bonnie Glaser and Gwyneth Wang, to name a few. In any case, pickings sure do seem to remain slim.
But if you could ask me to name other prominent female Taiwan experts or advocates, I don't think I could. I know the community, so I'm not shooting in the dark here, yet, it really does seem to be something of a sausage fest.
Why is that?
Of course I have a theory.
Keep in mind it's just a theory, concocted within the confines of my own weird brain, as far as I know really only explains the dearth of notable female Taiwan supporters in the US, and is quite open to constructive feedback. It's not meant to be a definitive statement on the matter.
Yet, as far as the US is concerned, I can't help but notice that most Taiwan experts also happen to be Taiwan advocates. It's quite common, even the norm, to be both an expert and a part of the Taiwan independence movement. In the US, who are the 'friends of Taiwan' in the government that Taiwan independence supporters tend to turn to, or at least receive the greatest support from?
Republicans. And in some cases, some of the worst Republicans in office. In every other sense, beyond their support of Taiwan (which usually seems to stem from a hatred of China rather than a genuine caring for Taiwan), just really terrible people. People like Marco Rubio, who supports both Hong Kong's localist movement and Taiwan, but who is a total shitlord when it comes to women's issues. People like Tom Cotton, who also supports both Taiwan and Hong Kong, who is also a total douchestick on women's issues. Even Bob Dole, that ol' 90s throwback who honestly was more moderate than these other losers on women's issues for his day (emphasis: for his day), isn't great.
No, I'm not going to be nicer about that because they're friends of Taiwan. They're also turdburglars and they deserve the criticism.
And to be fair, not every friend of Taiwan is like this. I don't have any particular criticisms of unelected supporters of Taiwan in government (think Bolton, Yates), but they tend to be Republicans, and Republicans are at this moment in history actively working against women's rights.
I'm not even going to talk about Trump because he doesn't have a clear Taiwan policy (the one thing that is clear is that he cares about nobody but himself, his family and sweet sweet money, and possibly power as well, and he'll sacrifice anything and everything for those things). But Taiwan's association with Trump, I can tell you honestly, has hurt Taiwan's standing among liberal voters, if they cared about Taiwan to begin with, which most don't. I'll stop there, because "liberal voters" are not the same as "Taiwan experts" or "Taiwan advocates", and I'm talking about the latter. The former is a different issue that I may or may not tackle at a later time.
It is also important to differentiate between advocates for Taiwan, and the people they lobby and talk to. Advocates for Taiwan outside of government tend to be very good people. I am friends with many of them (and yes, they are almost entirely male). The people they talk to are the problem. There are also some powerful female voices for Taiwan in other areas, such as Linda Arrigo and Shawna Yang Ryan, but I'm trying to be specific in terms of Taiwan experts who also advocate (and in many cases actively lobby) for Taiwan in Washington.
Of the women who are a part of this community, it is notable that of the 9 (9? Someone mentioned 9, I counted 8) people asked to comment for the article above, not one of them was female. How is it that they found 9 experts, all male, and ignored all of the women who do good work or are strong voices in this field? Is there perhaps a connection between being asked to comment on a piece like this and how often one is seen around government folks? Is there a connection between not doing that, and being female? If so, could that connection be in part because most of the people you would be talking to not only are not known generally for having much respect for women, but are actively working against women's rights?
I happen to think so, yes.
Or, perhaps they are overlooked because women simply tend to be overlooked in many fields.
I mean, to be a Taiwan expert - at least an American one - means making peace with the fact that the country you are most interested in and are likely to advocate for finds its greatest support among some of the worst people in Washington. On some level this is praiseworthy: it means setting aside differences to work on a common goal. I can see the value in that. I can see the value in not always giving in to identity politics, as well.
However, this is really easy to do if the people you are talking to and working with aren't actively trying to take away your rights, or subjugate your gender. It's much easier to "set differences aside" when the other side's differences aren't actual, literal and active attempts to make your life worse. It's easy when it's not aimed at you.
It is far more difficult to do when you can't even fathom being in the same room with some of them. I cannot imagine I would do anything to Marco Rubio other than spit in his stupid asshat face if I had to look at him, let alone talk to him. Perhaps I am more tempestuous, temperamental or I just care more about these things than others, but I know I'm not the only woman who would rather punch some of these Republican twatwads in the mouth than talk to them.
So how could someone like me - a woman, a lover of Taiwan, a supporter of Taiwan, someone who makes it her business and passion to keep up with Taiwan affairs despite not officially being any sort of expert - actually be an expert? When expertise tends to overlap so much with advocacy, and advocacy overlaps so much with talking to people I cannot bear to dignify with even basic manners, because they cannot bear to dignify my gender with basic rights, how is this even a possibility?
In fact, this is one of the direct causes behind why I went into education as a professional rather than Taiwan Studies. Perhaps 5 years ago - I don't remember exactly - I was in Hong Kong, sitting on the upstairs deck at the Fringe Club talking to friends there. We were discussing my next move, and I said I had three key interests: TEFL, the Chinese language and Taiwan Studies. I didn't know which I'd pursue, I said, but it would be one of those three, I would be going back to school at some point, and soon enough it would be come clear which I'd choose.
I chose education, because I actually kind of hated Chinese class though I love learning Chinese, and because Taiwan Studies to me is inextricably bound up in Taiwan advocacy, and that would mean lobbying or talking to all sorts of odious socially conservative Republican types, the sort who are actively trying to roll back my basic human rights. Even then, I knew I couldn't do it.
This is, as a side note, why I am eager to jump on any alternative at all. It sucks to love Taiwan but hate the friends of Taiwan in the US government. It sucks to know you might be able to go to school for Taiwan Studies, but you wouldn't be able to advocate with a straight face, nor would you be able to work with Taiwan supporters in the US government, because when their rollback of basic rights and dignity is aimed at your gender, it is impossible to "set differences aside" or look the other way. If someone presents even the most unlikely alternative model for advocating for Taiwan, it's like a flame for my inner moth.
I know I can't do it, and I don't think it's fair to ask any woman to do it. That's absolutely not to say that I think the men who do do it - who bite their lips and talk to assholes for Taiwan's sake - don't care about women's issues. I'm sure it's not easy talking to someone you disagree with on nearly every other thing (and most of the ones I know are good people, solid liberals, and women's rights supporters). Yet they do it - they do what I can't, and I won't pretend that gender is not one of the reasons why. It's simply easier when it's not your basic human rights on the chopping block, even if you have the best of intentions.
So that's my crazy theory. At least as far as Americans are concerned, there are not many female Taiwan experts because, while they might have common cause with some of the worst people in government over Taiwan, these same people are enemies of their gender. That's just too much to ask - and frankly, shouldn't have to be asked. It is 100% stone cold not okay, especially as Taiwan independence is, fundamentally, a liberal cause.
There are surely other reasons - Taiwan is a harder place to live long-term for foreign women being one of them and many foreign experts on Taiwan have spent significant time here. (As a side note, this is why most foreign commentators on Taiwan skew male - there are simply more male expats, and I do explore the reasons for that in the link above. Another reason might be that a lot of currently known Taiwan experts got into the field decades ago, when this sort of field was male dominated. When I was in school my International Affairs cohort was not particularly male, but several decades before that it likely would have been. Yet another may be "because the women are choosing China where the action is". Perhaps. I may explore these other possibilities in future posts.
I do hope for change going forward, and it would be interesting to see what the younger, perhaps less recognized cohort of Taiwan experts looks like gender-wise. However, I can say that when I was younger and looking at that path, the sorts of horrible people I'd have to talk to were a clear reason why I steered away from it, and made Taiwan affairs a hobby rather than a profession. I cannot imagine I am the only woman to have been put off. It does cause women to turn away, and I know that because it turned me away.
Constructive feedback is welcome. Hateful or misogynist comments will be deleted without being fully read.
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