Taiwan in Japan’s Empire Building: An Institutional Approach to Colonial Engineering by Hui-yu Caroline Ts’ai
Ts’ai Caroline Hui-Yu. 2009 Taiwan in Japan’s empire–building : an institutional approach to colonial engineering. Routledge, New York.
Caroline Tsai (蔡慧玉) is a research fellow of the Institute of Taiwan History(臺灣史研究) at the Academia Sinica, Taipei (中央研究院). She is perhaps the foremost historian of Taiwan’s colonial period and one of the most prolific researchers, publishing research in Mandarin, English, and Japanese. The volume itself is published through Routledge in cooperation with the Academia Sinica Book Series on East Asia. Understandably, a lot should be expected from such a publication, and there is no disappointment. The book is an absolute necessity for researchers interested in Taiwan’s early modern period, and will undoubtedly remain so for many years to come.
While the book describes itself as “comprehensive but not exhaustive,” it is very thorough in its description of colonial Taiwan. It deals in great detail with the institutional structure of life during this period providing clear understanding of the organizations that made Taiwan a colony. No less important is the book’s role in describing Taiwan’s introduction to the modern world or
…how in practice the colonial government introduced the ideas of ‘enlightenment’ and of ‘modernity’ into local society (p. 8).
The goal of this post is not to review the entire volume. Instead, I want to focus on the place of the book in addressing a number of issues that have appeared as important in my blog. In particular, I want to address the nature of imperialism and colonization, examination in Taiwan and Asia, and the Household Registry.
Imperialism and Colonialism
There is perhaps no other topic on my blog that has created as much ‘friction’ as has use of the term “imperialism”. In part, this is because of its usage in the academic disciplines of Education and language teaching, as well as other departments in universities. I maintain that imperial is the adjective of empire and thus only used correctly in this context.
Apparently, it is also used to describe the continued influence of the USA and Europe in formerly colonial states: ie, in post-colonial states. The usage of the term, in this sense, seems to imply an almost monolithic, unidirectional relationship between the colonizer and the colonized. Colonizers tell the colonized what to do through law, policy, and other forms of hegemonic coercion. The description of colonial Taiwan depicted by Tsai is explicitly different from this.
Taiwan was a reasonably well-developed part of the Chinese Empire when it was cede to the Japanese by the Treaty of Shimonoseki (J: 下関条約, Ch: 馬關條約). In addition, there was a long and independent history to the island that Japanese governance was forced to deal with. The formal colonial bureaucracy of Taiwan was never large enough to completely govern Taiwan by itself. Real control was always maintained through a largely informal mechanism of “extra-bureaucratic control” (p. 65). Positions such as heads of headships and villages had no formal legal standing until after 1935 and operated as honorary titles. Official government operated by creating
…employment outside of the regulating law (in ‘gai nin ‘yo 員外任用)…turning the civil bureaucracy into a disciplinary institution for effective administration and social control, as opposed to repression or suppression (p. 66).
The significance of this is that the colonized played a major contribution to the nature of their own colonization through the operating as functionaries and officials in this system. They designed and constructed many of the activities that were what we now think of as colonialism and hence imperial. Colonialism in Taiwan was thus a two-way street of control, albeit streets of unequal importance.
Another surprisingly important feedback of colonialism is the way in which it shaped the modern Japanese state. As Dr. Tsai points out (p. 15),
As Japan’s first colony, Taiwan played a key role in redefining Japan’s prewar constitution….Essentially, to make colonial administration from scratch.
The modernization of Japan began only slightly prior to its emergence as a major colonial power. Development of its constitution and legal code continued throughout this period. Much of what became incorporated into these institutions was designed specifically with this in mind. Japan’s conception of legal control was thus shaped by its experience as a colonizer.
As Dr. Tsai points out (p. 52),
No explicit criteria for recruitment and advancement through examination existed in modern Japan prior to 1885.
Japanese historians of this period have noted that examination was introduced by American foreign experts. Regardless of their origin, as Dr. Tsai points out, within a short period of time, the Japanese had established an extensive network of public service examinations throughout their empire, including Taiwan. Nevertheless, it was impossible to govern Taiwan without the use of alternative roots to professional achievement. This was particularly true for the police. So many police were needed that many Taiwanese were recruited to fill these positions. While police examinations were extensive, there were alternative roots to promotion that Dr. Tsai discusses. As she pointed out in her presentation at the 2008 conference of the European Association of Taiwan Studies, most local police officials were promoted without the use of examinations.
The significance of this is that in spite of long use of examinations in Imperial China, examination in schools and professional licensing was introduced by the Japanese. By the time the Japanese had established entrance examinations to their own imperial universities and even a colonial examination system for police, there was not a single state university in China and it was not until Sun Yat-sen wrote his Fundamentals of National Reconstruction that the idea of an Examination Yuan was suggested.
While not a point that Dr. Tsai develops, her research helps clarify one of the more problematic issues in the modern history of examinations. The Asian model for the use of examination in the university and as a way to select modern workers comes from Japan and not China.
The Republic of China practices household registry. While many other states have also used a household registration system, the ones used in Japan, South Korea, and the ROC are strikingly similar.
Continuing with research she did for her doctorate at Columbia University, this book establishes Dr. Tsai as one of the foremost historians of the Japanese colonial reregistration system or the hoko (保甲 Ch: baojia). Household registry and the hoko had their origins as a system of criminal discipline. This very quickly disappeared and was replaced with its use as a system for organizing social activity. Hoko and the organizations that developed around it were involved in the vast number of social and health reforms implemented by the Japanese. Later during the Pacific War, it was used as the organizing principle around which labour, conscription, and mobilization occurred.
Dr. Tsai details the ways in which the Japanese established the registry system and used it to organization Taiwan society during their colonial control. The hoko became so dominant during the Occupation that it can be thought of as the defining principle of organization around which a Taiwanese modernity was created.
Dr. Tsai’s book was extremely useful for me to read. While I am quite knowedgable about Japan’s colonial occupation of Taiwan, it straightened me out on a number of points I have always believed – but are wrong. for example, I have always believed that many reforms credited to the Japanese actually followed trends set in Republican China under KMT control. In particular, I have always credited the KMT with the eradication of traditional Chinese practices such as opium smoking, foot-binding and the queue.
Apparently I have been mistaken. In Taiwan, all of these practices were eradicated directly by the Japanese. In fact, Dr. Tsai describes in great detail the way the Japanese used the hoko to orchestrate these reforms, even discussing the emergence of hats as men’s fashion following Japanese enforcement of the ban on the queue.
One significant point about Dr. Tsai’s book is its extensive system of citation. In terms of language, the book is one of the most complex and complete works available. despite this, the manner in which it incorporates Japanese and Chinese script, pinyin, and English is both comprehensive and informative. Readers will never feel left confused by terms. I believe it is so thorough with respect to this issue, it can and should be used as model for research on this period.
Readers interested in the hoko and colonial Taiwan can find Dr. Tsai’s chapter on hoko road building in my forthcoming book (with Ann Heylen) Understanding Taiwan: From Colonialism to Democracy.
This fall, I will be entering the doctoral program in Educational Psychology at National Taiwan Normal University (NTNU 國立臺灣師範大學). This program is a Chinese-taught program and all the other students in the program have been educated in Taiwan. The program has two areas of specialization: counseling and testing, and I will be studying educational testing.
I am frequently asked about doctoral studies in Taiwan. I have never written anyone back about this because it is far too complex an issue to get into in e-mail. This post is aimed at answering questions about studying in Taiwan from citizens of advanced industrial nations, such as the USA or Canada, who are contemplating graduate studies in a Chinese-taught program.
Frankly, I do not think graduate studies in a regular Chinese-taught program is a good choice for most people educated only in advanced industrial nations. Language is not really the issue. In fact, my Chinese is not really strong enough to do this program without special consideration from the department. I will be able to complete the degree only because many of the professors speak English and almost all the readings are in English. Despite being a top national school, none of the Taiwanese students in the program speak English well enough to make a difference.
The major problems that Anglo-Americans will face in these programs is related to style. Education in Taiwan has evolved under different historical and cultural forces than in the West. As such, learning in the class is structured very differently. Perhaps the best way to explain this is with an example.
The Strange Case of William Terry Alred
A while back, there was some commotion concerning the application to a Taiwan university by William Alred. Mr. Alred, an American, registered in a doctoral program at National Chung Cheng University. He ran into all kinds of problems that eventually found their way into the local English-language world. This is the original China Post article on the incident, the forumosa.com discussion and my own post that followed. Mr. Alred’s problems with the school have even found their way onto the school’s Wikipedia entry.
Briefly, Mr. Alred applied to the Department of Political Science where he made no secret that his Chinese proficiency was very poor. When the department accepted him, he found that none of the faculty would cooperate with him in deciphering the material explained in class. Eventually, he dropped out of the program.
In fact, the details of Mr. Alred’s problems with the department are quite disturbing. All of this seems to me to have been easily avoided. His demand for supplementary instruction in English lead to a number of confrontations with local faculty members. Regardless of who is at fault, it seems to me that the program was perfectly manageable for him and that while he presumed language to be the most significant barrier, it is not the serious concern for most Western citizens.
The China Post article cites Ministry of Education figures that “3,935 hopefuls have officially enrolled in bachelor, master or Ph.D. programs.” Many of these people would be enrolled in the special English-taught programs, like the ones offered by my school’s International College. Some would also be overseas Chinese, like one of my classmates next year, who is a Malaysian citizen raised in Taiwan. A further group would be like the Chinese-fluent international students accepted into the Graduate Institute of Taiwan Culture,Languages & Literature where Dr. Ann Heylen teaches. Despite this, my guess is that the majority of international students at Taiwan universities are deficient in Chinese-language proficiency. I expect the program I will enter is pretty much the same as the one Mr. Alred was involved with.
And one final point. The vast majority of international students in Taiwan are not passport holders of advanced industrial nations. This article from the MOE’s own website states that of the 17, 500 foreign students in Taiwan, 9135 are studying in a university language center. Of the remainder more than 2000 are exchange students and finally,
…foreign students in Taiwan come from 117 countries and the top five nations are Vietnam (806), Malaysia (700), Indonesia (425), Japan (409), and the USA (348).
That is, most of them come from economically underdeveloped nations.
Why My Situation is Different
My situation is very different from Mr. Alred’s. I selected the program at NTNU because I had researched it completely, was sure it would be a great program, and am certain I can finish it. To begin with, I have a great deal of knowledge about this department. A colleague of mine was the first non-Chinese fluent Ph.D. candidate ever accepted into the program. I have meet his supervisor socially and talked with him about the program. More significantly, I audited the class on Modern Mental Testing (現代心理測試) that he offered last term and am currently auditing the class Applied Electronic Calculation (電子計算機之應用). Both of these courses are compulsory in the doctoral program I will enter and I will have to take them again for credit in the upcoming 2 years.
I know exactly what is going to happen to me in this program. In fact, I can go so far as to say I picked this program because I am sure it will not be a waste of time for me. I have a third colleague enrolled in a Chinese-taught Ph.D. program at another school. He has absolutely no Chinese-language proficiency at all. This is not important to him and he is much more concerned with the certification his program will give him. I could also have enrolled in this and other programs, but I did not feel it would give me the same results.
The material in the course is directly related to my job. I am heavily involved in the evaluation of student English proficiency at Ming Chuan University. The department at NTNU is one of the key players in the construction of the ROC Basic Competency Test used to place students in senior high schools. That’s why these tests are on the NTNU website.
While I said that language proficiency is not a barrier to completion of the program, this does not mean it is not an issue. In class, it is very difficult for me to follow what’s going on. The Taiwanese students are only marginally helpful because their English is not really good enough. The class I mentioned above called Modern Mental Testing concerns a family of statistics used in test construction called Item Response Theory (IRT). The class readings were all in English. I found the professor to be very approachable outside of class, but I think this is partly because I work in a large high stakes testing program, and as a result, have a lot of professional experience and meaningful opinions to offer. In addition, I read widely outside the course material. Our conversations were rarely related directly to course materials.
During the class, I did an oral presentation, which was a compulsory requirement for the registered students. I spoke in English and prepared handouts and a reading that were all written in English. My presentation was drawn from authentic material used in my school’s testing program and was a discussion of questions we actually placed on an examination and analyzed with IRT. It was very successful.
The Lessons of My Application
There are a few basic points I think every person from one of those first world-type countries should be thinking about if they have an interest in graduate studies at a Taiwan university.
1. Why do you want to do this?
Is it because you are an English teacher in a buxiban and feel trapped in a meaningless world filled with small children who barely speak English? A Chinese-taught program will almost certainly not help you. The China Post article on Mr. Alred stated that he had planed to teach at the university-level in the United States. As I have mentioned before, this is not an altogether realistic goal anymore – if it ever was. I think it’s naive that Mr. Alred could think a PhD from a Taiwan school would allow him to teach at a Western school. There are many Taiwanese teaching in other countries. Virtually all of them have advanced degrees from schools in these countries. In fact, very few people are teaching at Western universities that do not have advanced degrees from Western schools. Those educated completely outside the West are generally internationally renowned scholars with extensive research expertise in their field.
2. How much do you really know about the subject?
One of the very strange things I consistently hear from people suggesting graduate studies in Taiwan concerns their proposed field of study. These are graduate degrees we’re talking about. You’re supposed to have advanced knowledge of the field before you enter. Certainly the local students all do. In fact, they have passed through extremely competitive evaluations to ensure this. And while some departments – as in Mr. Alred’s case – will let you in with no background at all, what do you think you’ll get out of the degree? After all, there’s already a language barrier. If you don’t have the background to make sense of what’s going on, what could you possibly get out of the education?
Graduate degrees are supposed to make people experts. With no background in a subject and limited Mandarin, what is this thing you’re supposed to become an expert in at a Taiwan university? I have been asked by people about degrees they have no background in whatsoever. I have had marginally Mandarin-proficient people suggest to me research topics that would demand complete fluency in several Chinese languages, on top of English.
This is a very serious point. If you don’t know anything about the subject, what makes you think you could become an expert – in a Chinese-language program?
3. How much do you know about the program?
There are many programs in Taiwan that are outstanding. There are many that are not. Are you sure the program is going to give you anything that you want or need?
Taiwanese schools are extremely strong in quantitative methods. I suppose this has to do with an historical emphasis on science and technology. Many of the professors today would have been educated in a much more competitive system. Students who wanted to enter an Engineering or Mathematics department would have found it very difficult. Likewise, students who insisted on entering a top university might not have been able to enter the Science department they wanted. I imagine many such students ended up in departments like Psychology or Education. As a result, there are excellent people to study quantitative methods with in these departments.
The converse is also true. Theoretical subjects have historically found leadership in European languages. The language gap has not always been successfully crossed. In addition, for most of Taiwan’s modern history there has been huge control over freedom of speech. Many of the topics that would facilitate the development of theoretical competency in Social Sciences have been illegal to discuss and punished with prison or death. The result has been that Taiwan universities do not provide a strong venue for studies in theoretical subjects.
4. Are you sure you can handle the difference in learning style?
From my point of view, perhaps the biggest problem that Mr. Alred had at Chung Cheng University was one of learning style. Taiwanese students and teachers work in a system where classroom activity has historically played a background role in preparation for the major decision making that takes place during examination. The idea that Mr. Alred would not get a lot out of what’s happening in class might not necessarily be seen as a problem.
Class here lacks the feeling of desperation I remember it having in Canada. It is not a forum to show off how clever you are or how much reading you did outside class. It is not at all unusual to see students in class during a lecture with their lap tops flipped open, as if they were taking notes, doing homework for other classes, playing games, or working on other unrelated material.
Student presentations are a large part of class work in Taiwan. Most of what happens during these presentations involves detailed review of assigned readings. It is not unusual to see students with Power Points that contain the English text of readings and then a Chinese translation. They will then explain their understanding of the English text, sometimes line by line. This may seem redundant, but I have seen similar situations in Canada. More important is the fact that much of reading is in a foreign language (English) of which students may not have a strong grasp. Student presentations are often taken as an opportunity to make sure the assigned readings were properly understood.
As I pointed out above, the presentation I did was not a translation or explanation of the text. But I work in testing and have real data to draw from. I was able to bring to the class examples of the material we had studied and how it worked in real life. It would be unreasonable to expect 25 year olds who have never worked in their field to be able to do this. As a result, they translate the texts and make sure they know what was really said.
I just want to conclude that problems like the kind experienced by Mr. Alred are perfectly avoidable. It takes careful planning and patience, but if you expect to get as much out your PhD as you would at a Western school where instruction is in a language in which you are fluent, you’re going to have to do a lot of planning. But I think this is just common sense.