Author: Jonathan Velazquez

East Asia was deeply destabilized by the experience of empire, at least regarding the status quo of China and Japan both having been power players in the region around the late 19^th century. As discussed in September 16^th’s in-class lecture, one pivotal moment in recent East Asian history was the Opium War. After Western military intervention to ensure continued opium trade in China, the country was left reeling. Qing influence in East Asia steadily declined, as even its neighbor Japan took notice of its defeat, slowly moving away from trade with China in favor of trading with the West.

Japan not only reevaluated its trading relationship with China at the time, but also saw the writing on the wall; if they did not mobilize quickly as a nation and adopt the imperialist mindset of the Western imperialist nations, they too would be swept up in their “interventions”. This resulted in the steady Japanese cultivation of “modernity”, such as through its schooling within the country, or through its citizens coming back from studying abroad in Western, imperialist countries. Through a simultaneous push of efforts towards modernization, Japan would be set to become a budding imperialist power of its own.

The aftermath of World War 1 provided the context for the beginnings of Japanese imperialist expansion as well as regional resentment. After the war, Japan came into possession of some Chinese territory. Over time this prompted serious resentment on the part of the Chinese, especially among students in Beijing, who organized a series of protests known as the May 4^th Movements. They espoused the merits of “New Culture”, which served as a regional response to both Japanese imperialism through Chinese nationalism, as well as critiquing long-held archaic Chinese cultural traditions, such as foot-binding for girls.

Similar resistance can be observed in a Chinese tabloid article published a few years after World War 2, where Japanese imperialism had ravaged the Chinese mainland. The article focuses on the supposed personal history of a Chinese woman, Mo Guokang, who had served as the mistress of Chen Gongbo, a significant political figure that operated within the Chinese puppet regime set up by Japan. They are both constantly mentioned first with “traitor” throughout the article and served to drive home the “evil” of these collaborators to a foreign government. There are details of how Mo Guokang came to wield considerable influence through her relationship with Chen as his mistress, though much of its information cannot be confirmed through this lone article given its tabloid, sensationalist origins. In fact, one could argue that the story was somewhat distorted and biased, as the article scoffs at the idea that Mo “sought refuge” through sexual favors, when it could be said instead that she was indeed fearing for her life like many other Chinese women. In any case, what can definitely be confirmed is a continued sense of nationalist sentiment through the production of this article, pushing for a unified China, as was the case with the May 4^th Movement.

One potential shared experience occurring in the Philippines, Germany and India has to do with reactionary responses to imperial expansion, both internal and external. That is, large numbers of local residents tended to group together under novel social unions, both violent and nonviolent, to secure a foothold in the changing times. In Bombay, India, and in Germany in general, there is considerable economic changes taking place in the first years of the 20th century. In the former’s case, British imperial and capitalist influences culminated in the commercial viability of growing cotton en masse, while in the latter the imperial forces were internally directed to foster mass labor towards a quickly industrializing Germany. In fact, in both cases there was a push towards urbanization, and the construction of railroads for cheaper movement of goods and resources. The system of mass labor that served as the foundation, however, would not prove neutral, as industrialization gave way to certain social upheaval. A considerable amount of workers in both areas would push for unionization. Nikolas Osstoroth in Germany in particular illustrates a personal story of interest in Socialist organizing in response to labor conditions and pay.

 

The third example of social upheaval, this time in the Philippines, further illustrates the trend of some significant societal change in response to empire building, albeit in not the same nonviolent way as in the prior examples. Filipino resistance around this time to slow, methodical takeover by U.S. forces can be looked upon as a societal resistance, or adaptation, to a foreign force. Specifically, guerilla warfare employed by Filipino forces could arguably be akin to the organized social groups of unions in Bombay, and a blooming Socialist undercurrent or cause in Germany, both in response to the local changes done in the name of “empire”. In a written exchange between General James Franklin Bell and Mabini, a Filipino revolutionary, there can be seen a clash of ideals on the Filipino societal upheaval in response to U.S. intervention. On page 198 of “Race-Making and Colonial Violence in the U.S. Empire”, Bell argues that resistance was only justified if success were to be possible, and that fighting against the “impossible” would designate the losing combatants as “‘incompetent in the management of civil affairs to the extent of their ignorance of the demands of humanity”’. That is, the losing side should surrender for the sake of humanity, under the laws of “civilization”, and could be deemed uncivilized if they violate these principles. Mabini, however, greatly disagreed, pointing out that the winning side can always set the narrative, as the Americans thought “the U.S. war was ‘just and humanitarian’ because its army was powerful” (199). Guerilla warfare, in Mabini’s opinion, was not something the Filipino people expressly desired, but rather something borne out of necessity, a tactic they were “‘forced to adopt”’ (199). To Mabini, their guerilla warfare was a resistance to U.S. tyranny and rule. This resistance was the true “mark of a ‘civilized’ people” (199). In sum, a novel method of warfare practiced by Filipino forces against an encroaching U.S. presence could arguably be one of the many global responses, or backlash, to the pursuit of “empire”, as is the case with unionism and Socialist movements.

When reading through some of the third- and first-person accounts around 1900 for this week, I noticed that there was a pervasive necessity among elites and thinkers of the time to push for industrialized “progress”, even if it meant cruelty inside the nation or betrayal of possible allies. “On De-Asianization”, by Fukuzawa Yukichi, paints the picture of a Japan needing  to do away with general Asian traditions in order to survive. Yukichi, both fearful of “civilization” and in awe of it, argues that one must not resist it, but rather “help its spread with all its might so that his fellow countrymen will be immersed in its ways as soon as possible”. The necessity would stem from resistance from, and intimidation towards western industrialized countries and their eastward advances. If they stand idle, and dwell in the supposed backwardness of Asia, like China and Korea at the time, Japan would risk being swallowed up by western imperialist ambitions. Yukichi asserts that Japan must take the initiative in the coming struggle, and to dissuade any connections with China and Korea, thus wishing to “behave towards them as the Westerners do”. Yukichi would perceive the approaching “civilization” as such a powerful force that he would rather ally with its morals and dictations rather than ally with countries rejecting this force.

Moving to Mexico in “Latin American since Independence”, a similar initiative took place. Porfirio Diaz, president of Mexico for more than 30 years, asserts in an interview with James Creelan the necessity of his rule. He believes that the future fate of Mexican democracy is not harmed by his long occupation of the Presidential office. In fact, he asserts democracy to be the highest, fairest form of government, but that “in practice it is possible only to highly developed peoples”. This resonates with the attitude of Yukichi, who had little hope for the “less developed” Koreans and Chinese.

The forward progress of railways and telegraphs, and their success in Mexico, are recounted by Diaz in page 102 . He adds to the success by indicating the necessities he had to impose, like making “robbery punishable by death” and harshly punishing those who did little to stem the cutting of telegraph wires. He admits he and his tactics were harsh, but that it was all “necessary then to the life and progress of the nation”, and that the results justify the cruelty. This mirrors the attitude of Yukichi, who believed in a strong national stance against those who would stand against progress, in order to encourage a more advanced and rich national society. In Diaz’s case, he exercised this ideal internally for the good of the nation.

However, one must make note of the lack of focus on negatives of progress. in Yukichi’s case, he admitted that civilization “is always accompanied by both harm and good, but by more good than harm” in page 130. As an idealist, he can ruminate on the necessities of the new age of “civilization” all he wants, but he fails to take up inspection of the harm it could bring Japan. Additionally, one could even make the argument at the time that regional alliances and ties could act as an additional buffer to industrial empires from the west, in addition to practicing “civilization” as a country. In the case of Diaz, there is the bias from the interviewer to contend with. Diaz can speak of national progress as much as he likes, and justify it however he wishes, but there is no reason to believe all who live in an “advancing” state would benefit equally from progress. Only 2 years after this interview, the Mexican Revolution would begin, ending the Mexican dictatorship in 1920. This war occurred largely in part to the exploitation of the lower classes throughout Diaz’s so-called era of prosperity. Proper national “progress”, it seems, needs to be indeed a national push, not just a push to benefit the elites and upper classes more generally.

What really intrigued me in particular was the idea of a redivision of impoverishment. That is, poverty becoming more concentrated in cities instead of the countryside. Having taken classes in urban studies before, this assertion resonated with what I learned regarding the relative redistribution of wealth in many countries, especially in most U.S. cities. The rapid movement of middle and upper-class people from U.S. cities to the suburbs in response to growing numbers of lower-income city neighbors is an example of what Bright and Geyer suggest. In turn, they would be correct in presuming there are no longer nations, at least in countries where this has occurred or is still occurring.

The cities that are supposedly filled with culture and interaction, facilitating shared national identity, are now being repurposed as large-scale attractions and theme parks in a sense, largely ignoring the plight of their lower-income residents in favor of catering to tourists and young professionals. In fact, cities largely cater to an implicit locational segregation between much of the higher and lower income peoples in their city, removing any chance for a unified national identity through constant interaction. This is intensified further with those who have moved out to the suburbs, who go further in distancing themselves from lower-income persons to create their own suburban strongholds and “utopias”. A national mindset is then harder to manifest in the populace in the modern era.

If any nationalist mindsets would manifest themselves in these differing communities, they would most likely manifest along cultural, ethnic or racial lines (for example, white nationalism and supremacy in the U.S.). This would do more to harm any national unity than to enrich it, as various national identities could spring up amongst willingly (and unwillingly) segregated communities.