Andrew Grajdanzev and the McCarran IPR hearings

A few thoughts about Grajdanzev's "virtual" presence in the IPR hearings and comments on his scholarly abilities that came out of those hearings. Grad himself wasn't a witness at the hearings, but his name came up quite a few times, and some exhibits were entered that refer to his research and writing skills. But there are mixed impressions of his research abilities--some people praise them, while one other is quite critical of them.

I mentioned a while back that Andrew Grajdanzev's name came up along with George H. Kerr's during the 1951-52 Senate subcommittee hearings on the Institute of Pacific Relations (the "McCarran Committee" or the McCarran hearings). On April 2, 1942, Kerr (at the time, a military intelligence analyst in the War Department in D.C.) wrote to William Holland of the IPR regarding some galley sheets he had received of Grajdanzev's "extraordinarily good work"--Grad's Formosa Today (1942). Kerr calls the book "excellent" and comments that "[t]hat there are only a few very minor suggestions I might make, none of first importance." Holland replied on April 3 (from New York City! How did mail travel so fast back then!?). He sent along an advance copy of the book and again asked for any feedback from Kerr.

So here we have Kerr's words that show he was impressed by the quality of Grajdanzev's work. There's also an exchange between Edward Carter and Lt. Col. Frederick D. Sharp of Military Intelligence (plus an unknown "Mr. Thurber"). The first letter, from Carter to Sharp, is dated July 10, 1941 and concerns a request Sharp had made about the Siberian railways. Carter is sending along a "very tentative memorandum" based on some quick research. (Oddly, in Exhibit 89, the sentence reads, "With sources he has drafted the enclosed very tentative memorandum, a copy of which I enclose." But a few pages earlier in the testimony section, the sentence is written, "Without sources he has drafted the enclosed very tentative memorandum, a copy of which I enclose." So was the memorandum written with or without sources? Perhaps we'll never know...)

Later on (July 23), Carter sends to a Mr. Thurber (a colleague of Sharp's, it seems) a first draft of notes on the Tran-Siberian Railway. Lt. Col. Sharp writes back on the 24th (at least they're both in NYC), praising the report that was "drawn up so ably by your colleague, Mr. Andrew Grajdanzev." He goes on to write,

To thank both you and him in proportion to its value would be difficult. May it suffice to say that our own researches are at an end with such a reference source, and that Mr. Thurber, of my office, will be sorely tempted to draw on your knowledge of industries and raw materials east of the Urals, which is the next goal.

So here is another example of praise of Grad's work. Grajdanzev's work is even used in an IPR letter asking for donations, as shown in Exhibit 88, a letter of November 26, 1941. The letter says that

Mr. Grajdanzev prepared a monograph [about the Trans-Siberian Railway] which has been hailed in three Government departments as far more accurate than anything which they themselves could have prepared. This is just a sample of the kind of work which the institute is able to do and explains why the governments in this and other countries are so eager to get the services of members of the institute staff.

All of the above exhibits were presented during the testimony of Major General Charles Willoughby, Chief of Intelligence, Far Eastern Command and United Nations Command, on August 9, 1951 (beginning on page 353 in this volume).

However, later testimony by Professor David Rowe of Yale University (from March 27, 1952) casts Grajdanzev's research abilities in a different light. When asked about Grad's time at Yale in 1947, Rowe states that Grad had come on a grant from the Ford Foundation that had been obtained for him by William Holland. Holland mentions this in his memoirs, too. Rowe states that Grad was originally supposed to work there for two years under supervision by several faculty members. However, Rowe says that Grad was asked to leave because "we disapproved of his work." As he puts it,

We considered his work not to have sound scholarly method in it. It was so bad from that point of view that we finally reported adversely to Mr. Holland in a letter signed by myself and at least four of my colleagues, everyone of whom, including an economist, a sociologist who specialized on Japan, the late John Embree, who was my colleague there at Yale; a geographer, Karl Pelzer, who is a great expert on Asiatic geography; Prof. Chitoshi Yanaga, who was associate professor of political science at Yale. And the general agreement was that the work simply did not stand up from a scholarly point of view.

Rowe stresses that while the work had a "left wing" bias, "that wasn't the fundamental basis of our objection to it. ... We raised objections from a methodology aspect, and we simply came to the conclusion that this man was not a sound scholar in the field." Rowe goes on to express displeasure with how Holland handled their advice--he says that Holland "proceeded to act as though our objections didn't cut any ice" and "went right back and got more money to keep on supporting him, and sent him up to Columbia and had him affiliated there."

It should be noted here that Rowe appeared as a "friendly" witness at the McCarran hearings. He had clear problems with the IPR and had actually quit the organization in 1950 because he was critical of its left-wing political stance. At one point he said of Owen Lattimore, "my subjective opinion for what it is worth, in light of my knowledge of the subject matter, my 20 years of study in the far eastern field, is that as of today among far eastern specialists in the United States Lattimore is probably the principal agent of Stalinism." (He sort of backtracks later on by (re)defining "agent": "When I said that he was an agent of Stalinism, I am talking about ideologies and ideas and that he is promoting these ideas and ideologies." As he admits, "I have no positive knowledge by which I could identify this man as a formal Communist affiliate. In other words, I can't prove one way or another whether he was ever an agent of the Russians.") But his primary criticism of Grajdanzev's work has to do with methodology, he says. It would be interesting to see the original letter he mentions--perhaps it's at Columbia University (there's correspondence between Rowe and Holland from 1947; there's also, by the way, correspondence between Grajdanzev and Holland from 1947, 1948, 1949, 1950, and 1951). Maybe I need to get down there sometime...

No conclusion here yet, though I am curious about how some people could consider Grad's work to be of such high caliber and others could consider it unsound scholarship. It could very well be that Grajdanzev was better at researching and writing for some audiences (government organizations) than others (academics). I found a review of Grad's Land and Peasant in Japan (1952), which I previously (mis)understood to be an unpublished manuscript. The author of the review criticizes the book for being too ambitious in scope and not living up to that ambition, but at the same time praises the book for "the wealth of new information and pertinent insights they [Grad's efforts] afford in the agrarian scene in prewar, wartime, and postwar Japan at national and local levels" (187). The reviewer calls the book "a compendium of Japanese agriculture," which isn't exactly a compliment if Grad was expected to write a carefully argued academic discussion, but could be seen as a compliment if he meant to cover a lot of ground in a more general overview. Updated: I see that in another part of the McCarran hearing testimony, a witness named William W. Lockwood describes Grajdanzev's Formosa Today as "mainly a compilation of factual material." That description sounds a bit similar to the description of Land and Peasant in Japan that's in the review.

The slightly less mysterious Andrew J. Grajdanzev

When I was working on the previous post about Andrew Grad/Grajdanzev, I also wrote to Frank Joseph Shulman of the University of Maryland who (as I mentioned) had sent out an inquiry about Grad about 12 years ago. I also wrote an email to Mark Caprio of Rikkyo University, who had given a presentation on Grad at the University of Hawai'i' about 5 years ago. Both of them wrote back to me with some interesting information on this mysterious figure. I also talked with my brother, Chris Benda, who is a librarian at Vanderbilt University and master of figuring out ways to find information.

Chris and I talked about what I already knew and he gave me some ideas to find out what I didn't know. For instance, we found out a bit more about Grad's career (up to 1944) from the author bio in Korea Looks Ahead:

ANDREW J. GRAJDANZEV is on the international research staff of the Institute of Pacific Relations. Born in Siberia in 1899, he lived in the Far East for thirteen years, studying and teaching in Harbin, Manchuria, and in Tientsin, China. He has traveled in China, Mongolia, Korea, Japan, Australia and other countries. Dr. Grajdanzev received his Ph.D. from Columbia University and has taught economics at Oregon State College and Far Eastern politics at Hunter College. His published works include Formosa Today, Statistics of Japanese Agriculture, Modern Korea, and numerous magazine articles.

Alfred Christian Oppler's 2015 book, Legal Reform in Occupied Japan: A Participant Looks Back, includes brief information about Grad. Oppler and Grad both worked as part of SCAP, so they met when Oppler arrived in Tokyo. Oppler briefly describes Grad:

Grajdanzev turned out to be a fanatic of decentralization and home rule. As a human being, he was a pleasant combination of kindness and intellectual sophistication. (16)

Oppler also mentions a meeting with Grad and some other people on Jan. 24, 1947, regarding the division of farmland, which was being affected by land reform.

Chris and I also found a folder of correspondence from 1942-1947 between Grad and the Nation. Chris also found this information about Grad from the Library of Congress Authorities database. We found several news articles from the Washington Post and the New York Times that mention the "adverse reports" and accusations of Communist leanings about Gradjanzev. (I suppose someone would have to do a FOIA request to find out more about that.)

But we hadn't found a death date for him (no obituaries as far as I can tell), so I couldn't test my hypothesis (a very weak one, admittedly) about Grad's death.Then Chris suggested using Find a Grave, which I think he had used earlier. Lo and Behold, there was the grave stone for Andrew J. Grajdanzev Grad, 1899-1960. He's buried at the Flushing Cemetery in NY. On the grave stone inscriptions, he's described as a "scholar," "author," and "humanist."

So that appears to disprove my thought that Grad had died in 1952, halting the publication of his book on postwar Japan. It still leaves some questions, though, like what he did between losing his job at the UN and his death.

The mysterious Andrew J. Grajdanzev, author of Formosa Today (1942)

I've been skimming through William L. Holland's Remembering the Institute of Pacific Relations: The Memoirs of William L. Holland for a project I'm working on. The book doesn't mention George H. Kerr, but it does mention one point of interest.

Holland mentions Andrew Grajdanzev (aka Andrew Grad), author of Formosa Today: An Analysis of the Economic Development and Strategic Importance of Japan's Tropical Colony (1942), which was published by the Institute of Pacific Relations (Kerr and Holland discussed his book in letters that were included in the McCarran hearings). Holland notes that Grajdanzev was working under the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers (SCAP) after the war, but also doing research on "a personal research project involving a social survey of the Japanese town of Fukaya, located some sixty miles northwest of Tokyo" (51). Holland goes on to describe something that got Grajdanzev kicked out of Japan:

In order to obtain funds to pay his research assistants, he bought liquor at the PX and then sold it on the black market. This activity was soon discovered by the military police, and he was summoned to explain himself. He did so quite candidly but was told that what he was doing was illegal. The upshot was that he was dismissed and sent back to the United States. Later I was able to get the Rockefeller Foundation to provide a substantial research grant for him to continue his work, and it eventually was completed. However, due to his untimely death, it was never fully revised and thus became one of the IPR's few unfinished projects. (51)

The bit about Grajdanzev's "untimely death" seems to add to the mystery of this already-mysterious figure. I've done some googling about him, but haven't really come up with anything besides citations of his writings and an unanswered request for information from 12 years ago on the Korean Studies email list. (I have written to Frank Shulman to see if he ever found out more about Grajdanzev--Grad--even the business of his last name is a bit mysterious.)

One thing to add, upon reading more in Holland's memoirs: an appendix listing the IPR's publications includes "Land and Peasant in Japan, by Andrew J. Grajdanzev. 1952. 275pp. Mimeo. IR." I'm assuming this is the research that he didn't have time to revise before his death--this places his death somewhere around 1952. (Nope. See my new post on Grad about this. See also this post on Grad and the McCarran committee in which I cite a review of Land and Peasant in Japan.)

[Update, May 25, 2019] Looking through my old email correspondence with my fellow Kerrologists, I see that we had broached this topic before. An article in the January 2, 1953 issue of the Chicago Daily Tribune entitled "List of Accused U.S. Employes [sic] on U.N. Payroll" discusses "38 past and present employes [sic, at least they're consistent] of the United Nations as persons 'believed to be Communists or under communist discipline.'" The list includes

Andrew Grad, hired Oct. 5, 1949, adverse comment Jan. 20, 1951; terminated June 30, 1952.

One wonders if his "untimely death" had anything to do with these accusations...

For future viewing, once I get time

Steven Vertovec, “Super-diversity as concept and approach: whence it came, where it’s at, and whither it’s going”

For future reading, once I get finished grading

• "Three new essays on the Chinese script and a new twist to the old problem of censorship in Chinese studies"

Interdisciplinarity in the news!

This is a little old, but I teach an interdisciplinary writing course, and this semester there have been quite a few computer scientists who took the class. Last week, one of them brought up the breakthrough image of a black hole, so I took a moment to search for an article about it. I came across this article from The Guardian.

Skimming through it, I came across a quotation that we talked about briefly:

While still studying at MIT, the computer scientist Katie Bouman came up with a new algorithm to stitch together data collected across the EHT network. Bouman went on to lead an elaborate series of tests aimed at ensuring that the EHT’s image was not the result of some form of technical glitch or fluke. At one stage, this involved the collaboration splitting into four separate teams which analysed the data independently until they were absolutely confident of their findings. 

“We’re a melting pot of astronomers, physicists, mathematicians and engineers, and that’s what it took to achieve something once thought impossible,” said Bouman.

The quote is from the end of the article--often the place where, as I understand it, the editors put what they consider the least important stuff--but to me this was the most important part. Bouman is talking about interdisciplinary research. (And it was an added bonus that she is a computer scientist!)

It's fun to bring these news stories into class because it shows the students how people from their own disciplines might be doing research with people from other disciplines that they had never imagined. I have also shown students this video in which mathematicians are doing research about sneezing!


The one troubling thing for me, though, is, as I have admitted to some students, the process we go through to do interdisciplinary work in this class is often the opposite of what I think professional researchers do. As I understand it, outside of the kind of class I'm teaching, researchers start with a problem and then begin to work together with people from various disciplines to solve those problems. (Just as Bouman describes it above.) But in my classes, for very practical reasons we usually start with the interdisciplinary groups and then have to figure out the problems or topics that those disciplines might have in common. For instance, if I require the students to work with someone from a different discipline, but I have a lot of engineering or computer science or business majors, there are only so many ways they can combine to form a group. This semester I had some groups that had a lot of difficulty finding a topic in common to do research on.

I'm still trying to work out a way to do it the way Bouman describes it, though. I've thought about using big "umbrella" topics like "sustainability" or "globalization" in the hopes that these would be big enough themes for everyone to be able to find a connection to. Now that the semester is over, maybe I'll have time to think about this problem and do some research into it.

Blast from the past or so-phish-ticated imitation?

Got this interesting email today.

Dear Jonathan, 

You may not remember me but I am a former student of yours. I always loved your class and your perspectives as it was a tipping point for my work in short stories.

After college, in a strange mishap of life's direction, I decided to work at a beat hotel motel in the middle of nowhere Kansas. I took that time to write some incredible short stories on the very strange experiences I had there.  

If you have a few minutes to spare, I would be honored to have you read at least a story or two from my short collection. I am looking for feedback and would settle for a "This is excellent, continue writing" or "This is terrible, find a new hobby". 

In my time studying short stories, I found that they should mostly induce desire from the author. They should not satisfy like a novel but still find new ways to captivate a reader's attention and imagination. Maybe a moment from a story will return to a reader's thoughts and beg the question: "Was that fiction or did it really happen?" 

My goal is to point out the absurd and unacknowledged life of those who live in a strange, lost place yet maintain a sort of sad Americanism in their lives. I filled my stories with hidden references from concepts in literature, mathematics, philosophy, pop culture, and beyond. 

Thank you so much for your time. 

Best,
[Signature]

I don't remember the writer (considering that I have taught college-level writing for almost 30 years, I guess that's not surprising), but I'm a bit suspicious because the writer doesn't say where he took my class (and which class it was) and because I never taught any creative writing courses. (Of course, he doesn't exactly say that he took a short story writing course with me, so there's that.) I Googled the writer's name (putting it in quotation marks) and nothing came up under that exact name.

As I wrote to a friend and former colleague at one of those colleges that I taught at years ago, "Maybe [he's] a clever bit of code that spins text like "sad Americanism" via complex algorithms that I will never understand." The more I read this letter (too often already--I have work to do!), the more I think it could have been written by one of our robot overlords. (Now I'm reading it in my mind in the voice of Agent Smith.) His question, "Was that fiction or did it really happen?" is the very question that I am asking about his letter.

I haven't opened the attached pdf yet for fear it's a virus or something.

Thoughts? (If you're the writer of this mysterious email, reveal yourself!)

Deng Xiaoping billboard in Shenzhen, Feb. 1993

Deng Xiaoping overlooking Shenzen, China, 1993

I took this picture in Shenzhen back in February, 1993--my first and only trip to China (aside from a layover in Shanghai a few years ago). In the picture, he's saying, "不坚持社会主义，不改革开放，不发展经济，不改善人民生活，只能是死路一条。" (Not adhering to socialism, not reforming and opening up, not developing the economy, and not improving the people's lives can only be a dead end.)

I just discovered it acting as a bookmark in my copy of Aihwa Ong's Flexible Citizenship. I wondered what that area of town looks like now. A blogpost from 2017 gives some interesting (if hagiographic) history of the sign. Here's a rough translation (with the help of Google Translate, mainly because I wanted to translate it in a few hours rather than a few days...):

Shenzhen Totem: The History of Changes to the Deng Xiaoping Portrait 

By 泉影 (Quan Ying) 

On February 19, 1997, with 131 days left before the return of Hong Kong, Deng Xiaoping passed away. That chilly morning, a large group of Shenzhen residents spontaneously came to Deng Xiaoping's portrait to pay their respect to the benefactor of this SAR. Although more and more people gathered, filling the roads on both sides of the portrait, it was orderly. Seniors, young people, and children all came, a sad atmosphere permeating the scene. Some people held white flowers in their hands, wore black veils on their arms, and some stood for a long time holding high portraits of Deng Xiaoping that read, "The people will forever miss you." Because of Deng Xiaoping, Shenzhen had become the most direct beneficiary of China's reform and opening up, so the people of Shenzhen came with grateful feelings to say goodbye to the "chief designer" of reform and opening up. 

With Hongling Road, Luohu District, and Futian District as the boundaries, the area where Shennan Middle Road meets it was the most prosperous financial district in Shenzhen in the 1980s and 1990s. The northeast side of this crossroad became a must-see place because of the long-standing giant portrait of Deng Xiaoping. After Deng Xiaoping's southern tour, this portrait became the urban scenery most frequently exposed in both domestic and foreign news media. It has become a symbol of the reform and opening up of Shenzhen and China and a famous "landmark" in Shenzhen. 

A Product of the Southern Tour

At the beginning of the new year in 1992, reform in China faced a dilemma. In the early spring in southern China, the chill had not yet subsided, but the flowers and trees were green and spring was abundant. Already nominally retired, Deng Xiaoping came to Shenzhen on his southern tour and made an important speech, encouraging local cadres to "be bolder for reform and opening up." For a time, the major media reported on the themes of "An east wind blows an eyeful of spring" and "The South China Sea surges with a tide of reform." The talk greatly liberated the people's thought, and the reform deadlock was broken. China returned to the road of reform and opening up.

Because the southern talk incited a great response around the country, the propaganda department of the Shenzhen Municipal Party Committee proposed to erect in the city center a huge poster promoting Deng Xiaoping's inspection of Shenzhen. After repeated discussions, everyone agreed that the portrait should be erected in the most conspicuous, central, and most convenient place in Shenzhen. After careful site selection, the intersection of Shennan Avenue and Hongling Road was identified as the most suitable place.

After the painting was made, it was revised several times, and in the end the Shenzhen Municipal Art Advertising Company (深圳市美术广告公司) sent their most powerful artist to work in the underground parking lot of the Shenzhen Grand Theater. The enormous painting, measuring 300 square meters, took three to four months to create. It was done completely by hand, and one finger on the painting was taller than a man. On June 28, 1992 the huge painting of Deng Xiaoping was finally erected on Shennan Road. This was quite rare in China at that time, and the portrait immediately caused a sensation.

The first version of Deng Xiaoping's portrait was based on a photograph taken at the Xianhu Botanical Garden during Deng's inspection tour of Shenzhen. Dressed in a light brown jacket, his eyes are bright and ...

Well, I started this post a while back and just decided to come back to it so I could finish it in February (the 26th anniversary of my trip to Shenzhen). To my surprise, when I clicked on the link to go back to  泉影's blog, here's what I got:

"Sorry, this post is password-protected!"

So much for my timely translation... I wonder what happened?

Here are a few other links to posts about this poster:
[Updated June 1, 2020 with the AP story]

• "The symbolism of Xi Jinping's trip South" (contextualizes Xi's trip in light of Deng's trip)
• "Memory of Deng Xiaoping strong in Shenzhen" (includes some history, as above, as well as a photo of the new poster, which is described as "a computer-generated image created in 2004")
• 《小平同志在深圳》画像著作权官司终结
• "New, Improved Billboard of Deng Xiaoping Resurrected in Shenzhen"
  I learned from this Associated Press article from August 24, 1992, that there was a different Deng Xiaoping billboard before the one in the photo above. According to the article,

The old billboard had been erected in June following Deng’s visit to the special economic zone in January. During his trip, Deng encouraged the rest of China to follow Shenzhen’s example. 

In the old billboard, a stern-looking Deng pointed with his index finger, saying: ″Shenzhen’s development and experience has proven that our policy of setting up the special economic zones was correct.″

Position: Northeastern University Assistant or Associate Teaching Professor of Multilingual Writing

You can apply through the NU HR portal: https://neu.peopleadmin.com/postings/59696

The English Department Writing Program of Northeastern University seeks to fill one benefits-eligible, full-time, non-tenure track position for Assistant or Associate Teaching Professor of Multilingual Writing, beginning in the 2019 fall semester. The Northeastern Writing Program, recipient of the CCCC Certificate of Writing Program Excellence, serves multilingual undergraduates and graduate students through coursework, the Northeastern Writing Center, writing groups, and various workshops and outreach efforts. The Teaching Professor of Multilingual Writing will teach two courses per semester aimed at speakers of other languages, work for the equivalent of one course per semester in the Northeastern University Writing Center, and lead program-wide efforts to support Northeastern’s large multilingual undergraduate and graduate student population. Reporting to the Director of the Writing Program and working closely with writing program administration, the successful candidate will work with both students and faculty to coordinate and enhance existing multilingual writing support resources, and build writing faculty capacity around multilingual writing pedagogy. The ideal candidate is an innovative, dedicated teacher who is knowledgeable of teaching and assessment strategies for supporting multilingual writers. There is an established promotion ladder from Assistant to Associate to Full Teaching Professor and opportunity for multi-year contracts. The standard appointment for teaching professors is six courses per year (80%), with service (10%) and professional development (10%) responsibilities.

ESSENTIAL FUNCTIONS AND RESPONSIBILITIES:

● Work individually in the Writing Center with undergraduate and graduate multilingual students across the curriculum on academic and professionally oriented writing tasks.

● Plan and conduct training around multilingual writing pedagogy and support for NU Writing Center consultants and Writing Program instructors, whether through workshops, online modules and materials, or presentations.

● Work individually with NU Writing Center consultants and Writing Program instructors in support of individual students and multilingual pedagogies.

● Work closely with the NU Writing Program Director and Writing Program administrators (Writing Center Director, Director of First-Year Writing, Director of Advanced Writing in the Disciplines), supporting ongoing programs and helping to create new initiatives to support multilingual writers.

● Serve on the Writing Program Committee (policy body for the NU Writing Program)

● Participate in writing-related assessment initiatives.

● Perform additional duties as assigned.

Qualifications 

● Ph.D. or Ed.D degree in relevant discipline (e.g., Rhetoric and/or Composition Studies, English, Applied Linguistics, Second Language Acquisition, Language and Literacy) required.

● Teaching experience with emphasis on college-level writing in English required.

● Experience teaching writing and/or advanced language acquisition in English to students one-on-one and/or classroom settings recommended.

● Experience facilitating student and faculty workshops.

● Interest or experience working collaboratively with staff, such as advisors, student affairs or admissions professionals, in support of multilingual students.

● Ability to work as a member of a diverse community.

Additional Information   

The College of Social Sciences and Humanities is a leader in the Experiential Liberal Arts (www.northeastern.edu/cssh/about/deans-welcome). Founded in 1898, Northeastern University is a dynamic and highly selective urban research university in the center of Boston. Grounded in its signature co-op program, Northeastern provides unprecedented global experiential learning opportunities. The College is strongly committed to fostering excellence through diversity and enthusiastically welcomes nominations and applications from members of groups that have been, and continue to be, underrepresented in academia.

Review of applications begins immediately and will continue until the position is filled.

For information about the Writing Program, please see http://www.northeastern.edu/writing/. For information about employment at Northeastern University, see http://www.northeastern.edu/hrm/. To apply, go to the Faculty Positions site at the College of Social Sciences and Humanities website: http://www.northeastern.edu/cssh/faculty-positions/. Northeastern University is an Equal Opportunity, Affirmative Action Educational Institution and Employer and a Title IX University. We encourage applications from women and underrepresented groups. Northeastern University is an E-Verify Employer.

Initial applications should consist of a letter of interest; a curriculum vita; and a brief (1-2 page) statement of teaching philosophy, including a description of training and experience in teaching writing. Please note any background or training with ESL students, writing in the disciplines, online teaching, community engagement, or digital media. Applications received by March 22 can be assured the fullest review.

Mya Poe, Ph.D.

Associate Professor of English

Director of the Writing Program

415 Holmes Hall

Northeastern University 

Boston, MA 02115

m.poe@northeastern.edu

GHK in the McCarran Committee hearings

I've been skimming around in the online volumes from the hearings before the Subcommittee to Investigate the Administration of the Internal Security Act and Other Internal Security Laws of the Committee on the Judiciary, United States Senate, Eighty-second Congress, first-[second] session (a.k.a., the McCarran hearings on the Institute of Pacific Relations). George H. Kerr shows up in there, in the form of correspondence from 1942 between Kerr and William L. Holland of the IPR. They're discussing Andrew Grajdanzev's IPR-sponsored book, Formosa Today. Go to p. 393.

Another new book in the former native speaker's library

Davidson, James W. The Island of Formosa, Past and Present. 1903. Taipei: Southern Materials Center, 2008.

This is a beautifully produced reprint edition of Davidson's impressive 1903 book, complete with color illustrations and maps. (Not like the print-on-demand reprints available through some online bookstores. I made the mistake of buying a print-on-demand facsimile of Japanese Rule in Formosa a couple of years ago, and it was terrible--missing all of the illustrations, for one thing.) This particular book has been on my radar for years, but I couldn't bear to part with the money for it. I finally decided, though, to get it on this trip to Taiwan, and I think it was worth it. (Of course, it's also available online for free, if you don't want to pay for it.) I'm looking forward to reading it, though I have tons of work to do for the upcoming semester. (*Sigh*)

P.S. Japanese Rule in Formosa is also available online for free! Wish I had known that before I bought it...

My Introduction to Formosa Betrayed is finally out

The 2018 edition of George H. Kerr's Formosa Betrayed, published by Camphor Press, is now available:

Formosa Betrayed is a detailed, impassioned account of Chinese Nationalist (KMT) misrule that remains the most important English-language book ever written about Taiwan. 

Author George H. Kerr lived in Taiwan in the late 1930s, when the island was a colony of Japan. During the war, he worked for the U.S. Navy as a Taiwan expert. From 1945 to 1947, Kerr served as vice consul of the U.S. diplomatic mission in Taipei, where he was an eyewitness to the February 28 Massacre and the subsequent mass arrests and executions. 

As well as chronicling KMT repression during the early years of the White Terror, Kerr documents widespread corruption, showing how the island was systematically looted. The “betrayed” in the title refers not only to the crushing disappointment Taiwanese felt when they realized KMT rule was worse than that of the Japanese but also to the culpability of the American government. The United States was in large part responsible for handing Taiwan over to the Nationalists and helping them maintain their grip on power. 

Formosa Betrayed has served as a foundational text for generations of Taiwanese democracy and independence activists. It had an explosive effect among overseas Taiwanese students; for many, the book was their first encounter in print with their country’s dark, forbidden history. A 1974 Chinese-language translation increased its impact still more. It is a powerful classic that has withstood the test of time, a must-read book that will change the way you look at Taiwan. 

In this definitive edition Kerr scholar Jonathan Benda has added a detailed, thoroughly-researched introduction as well as a biographical sketch of the author.

"Kerr scholar"... that sounds nice, though I prefer "Kerrologist," or, as Henk Vynckier once labeled my fellow Kerr enthusiasts and me, "Kerrdashian."

I mentioned back in January that my interest in Kerr started back around 2007 when I discovered the three volumes of Kerr's correspondence and other writings that Professor Su Yao-tsung and his team edited based on the Taipei 228 Memorial Museum Kerr collection. I encourage anyone with a historical interest in Kerr to take a look at those books or even arrange to see the original documents in the museum. (It's a bit of an effort to do the latter, but it's worth the effort.)

Anyway, I don't have a financial interest in whether or not you buy it, but I hope that people who haven't yet read Formosa Betrayed (or even those who have) will consider buying the book!

Meditations on the fate of a scholarly article

I started this post back in October, but haven't gotten around to publishing it until now, at the end of the semester. I should note that I don't mean to sound whiny (or whingey--still don't know what the difference is between those two words). 

In my Advanced Interdisciplinary Writing sections, we're working on literature reviews. This project often finds me up late at night or, in the case of today (10/31), up early in the morning (woke up at 2:30) thinking about what goes into literature reviews. In this case, I'm thinking about the scholarly articles that are mined for what they can contribute to the students' reviews. Students are required to use only 10-15 sources, which, considering the hundreds of sources I've seen reviewed in some of the sample literature reviews I've asked them to look at, isn't that much. Still, I have some criteria for the kinds of sources they choose: peer-reviewed articles published within the last five years, preferably found via the library's databases (rather than through Google). I introduced them to the Web of Science, as well, which I think some of them used to find their articles. (Some of them, alas, are still finding sources through Google--not even Google Scholar--which perhaps I should "outlaw" in future classes.)

As we've been writing and talking about how to use sources in our literature reviews, I've been thinking about the different ways that scholarship gets used (or not used), and I think I want to share with students a personal example:

Someone who came across my list of publications on Academia.edu recently asked me for a copy of an article I wrote that was published in 2013, "Google translate in the EFL classroom: Taboo or teaching tool?" (I hate my titles). As I was responding to the request, I read through the article again, recalling (or, rather, wondering) how I wrote it and where and how I found the sources that I cited in it. I generally like the paper, but as I lamented to my wife, it hasn't gotten much mileage in terms of citations. While I was saying that to her, I checked out the article on Google Scholar and to my surprise found that there were three sources that had cited it, most impressively (to me, anyway) in the ACTFL-sponsored journal, Foreign Language Annals. Eager to find out what people were saying about my paper, I quickly downloaded the article, entitled, "Machine translation and the L2 classroom: Pedagogical solutions for making peace with Google translate."

My paper was mentioned twice in the literature review--the first time as one-third of a multiple in-text citation ("multiple researchers have suggested...") and the second as a "see also." I don't blame the authors of the article for this; in fact, I'm grateful that my paper got any mention, considering the conditions of scholarly writing these days. But, as I plan to tell students, my paper was almost 10 years in the making if you consider the origins of it in these blogposts from 2005 and 2007. I went on to write a paper about this topic that I presented at the 2011 Conference on College Composition and Communication. There I was invited to contribute to a special issue of Writing & Pedagogy on technology and writing, and then, in the middle of proofreading my dissertation and organizing a move from Taiwan to Boston to start a new job, I put together a small study to see students' reactions to using Google Translate as part of their writing/translation process. (The scope of the CCCC paper was a lot more limited.) Then the peer-review process (being invited to contribute a paper doesn't necessarily guarantee you'll be published) and finally the joy of seeing my work published.

I'm sure my experience is not unique--as I said above, considering how much academic writing gets published every year, I'm sure some people would be happy if their article got a "see also." (It's better than being ignored, or worse, plagiarized, both of which have happened to me.) But what I want to tell students about the experience of finding that citation and then seeing how my paper was being used is that it was probably the equivalent of the feeling you have when you get a "B" on a writing project--grateful for the attention, but not particularly excited.

(Update, 12/6/18) Well, I related this experience to my students, who listened patiently. No one really responded, though, and I don't think it comforted those who got Bs to hear me say I understood. Ah well...

My son, the philosopher

My four-year-old, looking at a black and white picture of people:

Blackberries, strawberries, blueberries. They lost their colors. Without their colors, they're not yummy anymore.

Edward Paine on the legacy of the UNRRA--words

This comes from a history of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA) Taiwan Regional Office that Edward Paine, Reports Officer and Economic Analyst for UNRRA, China Mission, was drafting after 1947. It's an undated typescript found in the George H. Kerr collection in the Taipei 228 Memorial Museum (GK-002-0006-045). It can also be found in Su, Yao-tsung (蘇瑤崇), ed., Collected Documents of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration in Taiwan (Taipei: Taipei 228 Memorial Museum, 2006), pp. 342-344.*

UNRRA will not soon be forgotten by the world because it is erecting for itself an imperishable and gigantic monument in paper. This is no discredit to the Administration. In China, at least, words, paper words and vocal words, big words, little words, red words, pink words, honeyed words, bitter words, recriminatory words, damning words, words, words, words, constitute UNRRA almost wholly and completely. They are of the essence and there is no doubt but that a large number of them have been fragrant.

In assessing the value of these words one has to set up several categories. One category is for words which meant nothing to begin with. This is a large group. Then there are the words which meant something at the time but which in the long run, historically speaking, mean nothing. There are also the words which meant nothing to begin with but which have a historical, a research value and those, a very small number, which both have and will be valuable. [342||343]

Those words having to do with work accomplished by UNRRA will be, oddly enough, among the least important because an all-over view will undoubtedly show that relatively little has been accomplished. The most valuable words will be those to be gleaned from tons of documents which will indicate the reasons why UNRRA has not succeeded to a greater extent than it has. They will be those which are now being written in looking back over what has been done. They will be those words which as yet have not been written and which quite probably will not be written unless some person or organization cares to make an audit, an impersonal, unbiased audit of what has occurred and why.

Such an audit might raise an eyebrow over the fact that at least sixty percent of the correspondence between the Taiwan Region and China Office has concerned administrative details. The audit would probably discover that this Region is not unique, that at least sixty percent of the time and work of the whole China Mission has been so consumed and expended. This is understandable in the nature of UNRRA but it is probably equally true that some excellent lessons can be learned from a study of the records.

Such an audit might well take a hint from the tons of documents which have been collected in a hit or miss fashion because there was no clear-cut idea of what was desired in the way of information. Much of these data are valuable, or at least may become so to someone digging through the files for material for a MA or PhD and possibly to others. However, it would seem that it has been an awful price to pay for a few degrees; especially if, as has been irrationally true of UNRRA, other organizations ignore that material which is available and send special men into the field to re-collect the same thing.

Except for this latter fact, that UNRRA has often paid no attention to the material in its own files in HQ and has sent additional men out to duplicate the information when it was needed and, even worse, has often taken the opinions of outsiders not particularly [343||344] qualified especially if their information happened to come in the form of the printed word, in a newspaper, little criticism can justifiably be leveled at UNRRA’s methods of obtaining information.

Greater men than an organization such as UNRRA will ever attract would have had to have been given broad scope in planning in order to successfully anticipate and order collected all the many types of data which the Administration has required. Better people in general than UNRRA has found would have had to be hired to carry these orders out. Time would have had to be commanded to stand still, holding changing conditions in a state of suspended animation. This letter would have been hardly less possible than the other paramount requirement, that the basic concept under which UNRRA has been made to work in China, as an advisory rather than an operating agency, be changed.

This is not an apology for UNRRA’s word-mountain; it is not an excuse; it is an admission that more has been expended than value received and a general exposition of why this is a fact. It is an analysis in retrospect, a post-game rehash, it is, I’ll admit, a somewhat defensive question “Knowing only what was known when UNRRA was started, could you have done better?”. More important it is the posing of a vital query “Will you, in the future, profit by the example which is UNRRA, which is embodied almost entirely in words?”

-----------------------
*As Talk Taiwan notes, Kerr made use of this history in his chapter on "The UNRRA-CNRRA Story" in Formosa Betrayed. (Unfortunately, Talk Taiwan repeats the unsubstantiated story that Chiang Kai-shek bought the copyright to Formosa Betrayed after it was published.)

Kerr on his association with U.S. Military Intelligence

From the George H. Kerr Papers, Okinawa Prefectural Archives (GHK4A01006)

MEMORANDUM

13 July 1986

G.H.Kerr’s Wartime and Postwar Association with the U.S. Military
Intelligence Services

It has sometimes been suggested that I served as a “spy” in pre-war
Taiwan. because of my later wartime employment as a [unintelligible] “Formosa Specialist” at Washington during World War II.

I was never that. After living and teaching in Taiwan from 1937 to 1940,
I returned to the United States to study Japanese History under Sir George Sansom, at Columbia University in New York. and was there on December 7, 1941.

Few Americans had lived for any length of time on Formosa (as tea merchants, missionaries and consular officers) and very few had travelled about the
island as extensively as I had done. Immediately after Pearl Harbor, Washington
began to search for informants. I was at once offered a position in the Military Intelligence Division, G.H.Q. and there was given the “Formosa Desk” in the
Japan-Manchuria Branch. Eventually I prepared the non-military portions of
the Strategic Survey of Taiwan (Formosa). It was my duty to assemble all
possibly useful information concerning the Island.

When Admiral Nimitze [sic] proposed to drive across the Pacific, take Taiwan and occupy the Fukien coastal region, cu[tt]ing off Japan’s lines of supply and communication to the southern front, I was commissioned in the U.S. Naval Reserve
and directed to set up a “Formosa Research Unit” in the U.S. Naval School for
Military Government and Administration (at Columbia University). There we
prepared, and the Navy published some ten Handbooks for the Island
of Taiwan (Formosa). When the “Nimitz Plan” was abandoned in October, 1944,
the Formosa Research Unit was disbanded. After a brief interval with the
Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI, Washington), I was sent to the American
Embassy in Chunking, China, as an Assistant Naval Attaché, and in October, 1945,
went to Taiwan as a member of an American Military Advisory Group to witness the formal surrender of Japanese forces on Taiwan and the Nationalist Chinese
assumption of authority in the island.

These papers are a small small sampling of the materials used in the Naval School
for Military Government.

[signature]

Two new books in the former native speaker's library

Yesterday we took a trip to Lowell, Massachusetts to visit some historical sites there (my father would have been proud...). We went to the National Streetcar Museum and took a ride on an old streetcar (mainly for my son's sake). Then we walked over to the Boott Cotton Mills museum that's part of the Lowell National Historical Park. I bought two books at the museum bookstore:

• Bruce Watson, Bread & Roses: Mills, Migrants, and the Struggle for the American Dream (Penguin, 2005)
• Sven Beckert, Empire of Cotton: A Global History (Vintage: 2014)

I want to start with Watson because I'm particularly interested in the involvement of the immigrant workers ("from some fifty-one nations") in the 1912 strike at the textile mills in Lawrence, MA. Hopefully I'll get around to reading them sometime! 

New year's resolutions for 2018-19 academic year

I posted some new academic year's resolutions a couple of Septembers ago, imitating something I had done 10 years before that.

One thing that is different this time than from two years ago is that now I have deleted most of my social media accounts. As this person has written, it's a big change. Although it has generally been a positive experience, sometimes I feel like the guy in this video:


(I'm sure everyone has already seen this, but I don't know because I'm not on social media.)

Anyway, since I gave up Facebook and Twitter, I was able to read more. I finished reading Johanna Meskill's 1979 book, A Chinese Pioneer Family: The Lins of Wu-feng, Taiwan, 1729-1895. I enjoyed it, but I was surprised at how little has been written about the book--I could find only one review on Amazon and only seven published scholarly book reviews. (Actually, I guess that's a pretty good number. And the book has been cited 128 times, according to Google Scholar.) The reviewers generally liked the book, though some of them pointed out problems in interpretation or missing sources that would have added to or modified her conclusions. Several of the reviewers hoped for a "sequel" to the book, though it apparently never came (and I don't know that Meskill intended to write one).

I have also been reading Late Victorian Holocausts by Mike Davis. It's interesting as an interdisciplinary study of the interactions of climate and imperialistic politics in late nineteenth-century droughts. I've gotten a bit bogged down in the climate science part, though. Hopefully I'll be able to say something intelligent about it in my interdisciplinary writing course this fall, though.

As far as my new's year resolutions go, I want to do more writing. I'm currently looking at a conference paper I wrote about 13 years ago and trying to figure out how I can revise it for publication. We'll see how that goes. George Kerr is also lurking somewhere in the background.

I also want to keep up to date on my grading and responding to student work. I'm not the worst at doing this, but I'm probably not the best, either. Some changes in our domestic situation might make it more possible for me to stay on track, but we'll see.

Think I'll keep my resolutions down to these two for the time being. Maybe I'll update this closer to the beginning of the fall semester...

Work on GHK introduction, a flashback, and reflections on teaching writing

A couple days ago I finally completed a draft of my introduction to a forthcoming new edition of Formosa Betrayed and sent it to the editors for their input. I'm sure it will go through some (probably many) changes before it sees publication, but that's OK with me. I was writing an email to a friend just now and mentioned the project and one of its earlier incarnations:

You probably don’t remember your comments on this blog post from 2010 (https://jonintaiwan.blogspot.com/2010/02/some-notes-about-publication-history-of.html), but what I’m working on now grew out of what I was working on back then—8 years ago! I always like to mention these kinds of things to my writing students—my 9-year dissertation, this thing, etc.—to remind them of how long the writing process can sometimes be.

I can date the interest in Kerr back a couple of years further than that, when I wrote in this post almost 11 years ago:

I found out that Tunghai's History Dept. library had these books [a 3-volume set of facsimiles of Kerr's writings and correspondence], so I borrowed them today. Talk about fascinating stuff to curl up with on a cold winter night. There are all sorts of interesting topics that come up in the letters--discussions with (and about) Thomas Liao (a Taiwan independence activist-in-exile who eventually returned to Taiwan in a propaganda coup for the KMT), letters in response to Formosa Betrayed and concerning the trouble he was having publishing a history of Taiwan to 1945, discussions regarding the assassination attempt on Chiang Ching-kuo in 1970 and its aftermath... Just a lot to keep a curious reader busy. 

"Keep a curious reader [and writer] busy." As I said to my friend, it's always interesting to get students' reactions to the idea that a writing project (or writing projects) can take years, or even decades. Kerr's work on Taiwan is itself an example of that, from working on earlier versions of Formosa Betrayed back in the late 1940s, to getting it published finally in 1965, and working on the other "Formosa" texts (one of which never saw publication) into the 1970s and 80s.

I would like to give students a taste of how those kinds of long-term writing projects happen, and I guess I do do that, to some extent. In my business writing class, for instance, they work with one topic for most of the semester and base their final project on that topic, as well. But it's an acquired taste for some students who might not be able to develop the kind of passion for a topic that it takes to sustain interest over a longer period of time (even 14 weeks can be a long time if you're not interested in what you're working on!). And I also have to realize that neither I nor Kerr (or probably anyone else) have fully focused on that one project over all of those years. Kerr wrote about Okinawa, as well, for instance. And we all get distracted over time. (At least I hope "we all" do--I hope it's not just me!) Would it be necessary/helpful to try to build that "distraction" into the syllabus, as well? Could that be done in a 14-week course? Maybe I'll try...

George Kerr on why he left his Vice Consul position

In Chapter 7 of Formosa Betrayed, George Kerr writes about two reports he sent to the US Embassy in Nanking:

Late in the year I sent along to the Embassy and the Department a secret coded supplementary report upon prominent personalities about town, and certain evident conflicts within the Taipei Government. My report evoked a telegraphic request for more detail, but this was construed to be a rebuke; I had committed an unpardonable bureaucratic sin by raising an issue which called attention to ourselves. 

My second semi-annual report for 1946 on social, political and economic conditions was endorsed, coded, and forwarded through Nanking, to Washington. It carried a warning that tensions within Formosa were near the breaking point, a violent crisis might be upon us at any time. The document was given a number and entered into our secret record book.

Later on, he writes that when he was in Nanking writing a "State paper" to be translated and given to Chiang Kai-shek, he made use of the December report "which had been endorsed and forwarded to the Embassy. But in the Embassy files I found also a brief, secret, unnumbered follow-up dispatch from Taipei which said in effect that the Embassy should not take my December predictions of impending crisis too seriously."

In an October 27, 1974 letter, Kerr expands more on this note and gives also some more context for why he left his position as Vice Consul. It is well-known that Consul Ralph Blake and Kerr did not see eye to eye on how to respond to the crisis in Taiwan. It's also commonly known that the KMT didn't want Kerr to stay on in his position. Hsiao-ting Lin,for instance, writes, "Chiang Kai-shek's officials acridly blamed George Kerr ... for instigating the islanders' rebellion against the Chinese rule, leading to Kerr's disgraceful recall." Kerr suggests, however, that it was he who made the final decision to leave:

In late 1946 I prepared a long Memorandum predicting a crisis at any moment, naming names and citing incidents. It was endorsed by Blake and forwarded to Nanking and Washington. But then Blake flew off to Nanking, leaving me in charge, where he urged that I be pulled out. When the crisis did occur, and I went to Nanking to report to Stuart, I was given access to the files in order to prepare the Memorandum which appears—severely censored to remove all references to Formosan appeals to the USA—in the White Paper. In the files I found an unnumbered Memo from Blake to the Embassy, sent along immediately after the endorsed December Memo, in which he strongly denigrated my report (which he had endorsed). When Stuart and Butterworth asked me to return to Formosa, I drew their attention to it, and on resigning the Service, pointed out that no man of integrity would serve under Blake under those circumstances. Blake knew that if he needed it, he could summon up that unnumbered Memo, but since it was not entered into our register of numbered, secret despatches, it could remain lost forever. (emphasis added)

Kerr suggests that despite his conflict with Blake, Ambassador Stuart and Counselor to the Embassy Butterworth still wanted Kerr to stay on in Taiwan.

(The memo Kerr refers to here appears to be different from the memo Blake attached to a later report, cited by Richard Bush, in which he criticizes Kerr's style of writing.)

Source: Letter to Jonathan Mirsky, available in the Okinawa Prefectural Archives.

The DPP's role in relaxing restrictions on cross-strait travel in 1987

I happened to watch the following video today and was interested to hear how the Democratic Progressive Party was involved in the 1987 movement to allow Mainlanders to return to visit family there. Most accounts that I've read, like that of Murray Rubinstein, depict the opening up of opportunities to visit family simply as one of Chiang Ching-kuo's reforms. Other accounts, like that of Shelley Rigger, emphasize the effects of that policy change.* 

This video depicts in more detail the process that veterans went through to gain the right to visit relatives in China. It describes the veterans' agonizing desire to know what happened to their families. As DPP official Yu Shyi-kun, who was a Taiwan provincial assemblyman at the time, says, "In addition to not being able to see family members, they couldn't even write letters to their relatives. So no one knew if they were dead or alive. Can you think of anything crueler than this?" And as veteran Liu Minguo says, "Soldiers have to listen to orders. ... In the military, if you're ordered not to do something, you can't do it. If they say it's white, it's white; if they say it's black, it's black." But according to the video, these soldiers (who became veterans) had to internalize their pain because they knew it was illegal even to express these feelings. (I've written before about how for some soldiers, such pain led to suicide and even murder.) 

According to the video, members of the dangwai ("Outside-the-(KMT)-party," which later became the DPP) decided to help these veterans try to contact their family by allowing them to send letters via their magazine, Progress magazine (前進周刊), and through the mailbox of then-dangwai legislator Xu Guotai. The program says that they helped send 300-400 letters.

After the veterans formed a "Association for the Promotion of Mainlanders to Return Home to Visit Relatives" (外省人返鄉探親促進會) and took to the streets to ask the KMT government to let them visit their families in China, the DPP voted to support the Mainlanders' attempts to return home. DPP politicians persistently asked KMT officials to allow the veterans to go home. But the KMT, most importantly President Chiang Ching-kuo, was afraid that such a policy would play into the PRC's plot to reunify under the Communists.

The veterans began to take to the streets, carrying signs, handing out leaflets, and organizing speeches to let Taiwanese know about their pain and to pressure the KMT to change its mind. On June 28, 1986, a meeting of the Association held in Taipei attracted over 20,000 supporters and officials from the KMT's intelligence bureau. The veterans' tearful songs about going home to find their mothers moved the audience to tears. At this point, according to the video, the veterans' tears and song were finally heard by Chiang Ching-kuo. In October of 1987, the Executive Yuan declared that Mainlanders with family in China could return to visit their relatives.

In the video, Yu Shyi-kun speculates that because the DPP was promoting this policy, Chiang Ching-kuo became concerned that if the KMT didn't pay attention to the veterans' request, it would lose the support of some of its most loyal followers. Tamkang University professor Chang Wu-Ueh (張五岳) agrees that the support of the DPP was vital to publicizing this issue and pressuring the KMT to change its policy.

------------

* I did find a footnote in this 1999 article by Yu-Shan Wu that cites a 1998 book by Kuo Cheng-liang (郭正亮), 民進黨轉型之痛 (The DPP's Ordeal of Transformation, or as Wu translates it, The DPP's Agony of Transition). According to Wu, Kuo argues that "there was a period in the late 1980s of far-sighted pragmatism in the DPP's attitude toward the Chinese mainland. At this time, the DPP exposed the rigidities of the KMT's mainland policy, championed open communications with the mainland, and hoped that by unilaterally recognizing the PRC they would encourage Beijing to respect Taiwan's sovereignty" (568 n. 6).

[Update, 5/2/24: Lost that video, but here's another video that discusses this topic in part]

Three new books in the former native speaker's library

Haven't written anything here for a few months. Unfortunately, I don't have time to write much now, either. But I got three books in the mail today that I had ordered during the University of Hawai'i Press's big sale last month, and I wanted to share the joy:

• The Minor Arts of Daily Life: Popular Culture in Taiwan, ed. David K. Jordan, Andrew D. Morris, and Marc L. Moskowitz (U of Hawai'i P, 2004)
• Refracted Modernity: Visual Culture and Identity in Colonial Taiwan, ed. Yuko Kikuchi (U or Hawai'i P, 2007)
• The Peasant Movement and Land Reform in Taiwan, 1924-1951, by Shih-shan Henry Tsai (MerwinAsia, 2015)

The first two books cost only $5 each (and the second is a richly illustrated glossy-papered hardback). The third cost $45, but a total of $55 for three academic books is not too bad in my ... ummm... book.

I've got some other books to work on first (after I finish grading, some writing projects, and any other things that come up...), but I hope to dip into them soon!

A story from One Family, Three Eras: Wu Bai and his Children

I have more to say about this book, but I'm going to start with a rough translation/paraphrase of the second chapter:

Early on in 《一個家族·三個時代：吳拜和他的子女們》 (One Family, Three Eras: Wu Bai and his Children) by 吳宏仁 (Wu Hongren, or Hong Jen Wu), Wu Bai is asked to stay after class by his fourth-grade teacher, Mr. Kimura. Two years older than his classmates, Wu Bai entered the second grade of the Japanese school in rural Tainan at the age of eleven. Although he started late, Wu is strong in math, and after two years of study, his Japanese is also very good. But the problem that Mr. Kimura faces with Wu and some of his classmates is their refusal to cut their queues. The principal at Kimura's school has been pressuring the teacher to force his students cut their queues, but Kimura wants to try reasoning with Wu in hopes that if Wu cuts his queue, his classmates will follow suit.

Mr. Kimura starts out with the standard argument that the queue is symbolic of the Manchu Qing dynasty's power over the Han people. Now, he tells Wu, there are those in China who want to overthrow the Qing (it's 1911) and Taiwan is already Japanese territory, so there is no connection between the Han of Taiwan and the Manchu Qing.
Wu's reply throws Kimura for a loop--he tells his teacher that his father says that even though the Manchus want the Han to grow queues, at least they don't force them to learn the Manchu language; in fact, they have learned and use Chinese. In addition, many Han people have become officials in the Qing state. "The Japanese..." he says, but stops. Kimura suddenly realizes that he is not only facing a teenage boy, but he's also confronting the boy's father. "How could this rural farmer understand these ideas?" he wonders.

Mr. Kimura tries another approach, reminding Wu about how the Japanese men of the Edo period wore their hair in topknots, which Wu agrees looked silly. Kimura goes on to describe how the Japanese men started cutting off their topknots in the Meiji period, connecting that change to Japan's modernization and suggesting that wasting time on one's hair, as the queue-wearing Han were doing, was comparable to opium smoking and foot binding. Though Wu is suspicious of this comparison, he finally decides to cut off his queue, an act which does in fact influence his classmates to cut off theirs.

What Mr. Kimura doesn't know, writes Wu Hongren, is that Wu Bai keeps his queue in his bookbag, taking it out on the way home and fixing it to his head with one of his mother's hair clips. He knows his father doesn't like the Japanese, and Wu Bai doesn't want him to find out. But as luck would have it, within a week his secret is revealed when his younger brother knocks Wu's queue off his head. Surprisingly, Wu's father doesn't get angry; rather, he says, "If you're going to their school, you can't ignore their rules--I understand." After a pause, he continues: "I just want you to remember two things: don't forget who you are, and don't try to deceive me."

Wu Bai reaches to pick up his queue. A thing that was so important earlier now doesn't seem to have any meaning at all.

(From pp. 34-37 of 《一個家族·三個時代：吳拜和他的子女們》 (One Family, Three Eras: Wu Bai and his Children) by 吳宏仁.)

Reflections on disciplinary "linguistic landscape" assignment

It has been a couple of weeks since we finished the "disciplinary linguistic landscape" assignment that I asked students in my summer interdisciplinary writing course to do. I'm starting to put "linguistic landscape" in quotation marks because I'm not sure that in the end that would be an accurate description--I'm not sure the assignment did justice to the concept of linguistic landscape studies. That said, I do think the assignment was a useful entry into the course and to each other. I will have to tweak it the next time I teach the course, though.

We started out by reading the Latour & Woolgar chapter that I mentioned earlier. There are some challenging concepts in that chapter, such as "literary inscription" and "inscription devices," along with the authors' use of the terms "mythology" and "culture." We kind of stumbled around with some of those terms, and I'll probably have to take us more carefully through that chapter in the future (if I still use it). We actually didn't read the entire chapter because I wanted to focus more on the texts and uses of texts in the laboratory rather than getting into the way that papers were published and the kinds of statements used in the publications. (We are getting into that to some extent in the second project.)

After that, I teamed them up with people in different majors--I had an engineer working with a philosopher, another engineer and a finance major, an engineer with a graphic design major, an engineer with an accounting major and a communications major, etc. (we had a lot of engineers in this class!). I think I will keep this aspect of the assignment, though this time it meant that the presentations they did were pretty long--some of them going up to half an hour. The benefits were several:

• students got to know someone from a different major (which will also be useful once they get to the third project, which is an interdisciplinary research assignment); 
• they got to see--and look carefully at--spaces that they quite possibly hadn't noticed (or even seen) before; and 
• they got a chance to compare the kinds of institutional resources (including the physical plant) another discipline might possess. 

One of my goals for this assignment was to highlight the idea that in talking about discplinarity and interdisciplinarity, we're not just talking about theories, perspectives, research methods, etc., but that it's also important to consider how disciplines occupy physical and institutional spaces in a university. Some students were rather shocked when they saw the differences between their department's space and that of their partner's department. (One amusing example was when the communications major, who was working with an accountant and a chemical engineering student, noticed that some of the offices in her department still had the signs of the room's previous occupant on the wall--in one case, the previous occupant was a chemical engineer!)


Challenges and Thoughts about Revision
One of the challenges for this assignment was helping students find a focus for their presentations. As I mentioned in the earlier post, my colleagues expressed concern that students would end up just showing slides of similar and different things that they saw in their departments. To some extent this did happen, and in the future I will probably need to ask them to be more "ruthless" with their picture-cutting during the revision process. I asked them to take as many pictures as possible at the beginning, but we do need to work more on cutting, arranging, and theoretically grounding discussions of the pictures we take.

I might also have to revise my sample slide presentation because it focused on only one discipline--rhetoric and composition, as reflected in the Writing Program in the English Department. It would be easier for them to imagine the assignment if I were to do an interdisciplinary comparison myself. I'll have to decide which discipline to use, though.

Another point about my sample slide presentation that led in unforeseen directions is that although I wanted students to focus on the physical buildings in which their disciplines/majors/fields were situated, I started off with a couple of slides pointing out how the page on the English Department website introducing the Writing Program describes the WP as "an intellectual home for the discipline of rhetoric and composition"--I included that to point out that the WP is depicted as a discipline (rather than, say, a "subdiscipline" or "area" of English studies) and to have a jumping-off point for talking about the way in which the discipline of rhetoric and composition is present (and not present) in physical spaces of the English Department. What I didn't expect was that students would also start off with discussions of their departments' or majors' websites. Some of these were more relevant and focused than others, but the websites' inclusion led to me start thinking about whether or not I should somehow incorporate the virtual spaces of the disciplines in the assignment. I'm hesitant to do that, if for no other reason than that it will make presentations even longer, but I'm still thinking about this.

All in all, I think this was a good assignment, though it needs some fine tuning. I think I'll try it again the next time I teach the interdisciplinary writing course.

George Kerr: Teacher, sailor, poor man, ... spy?*

The claim that George H. Kerr was spying for the U.S. during his first period in Taiwan (1937-1940) has resurfaced, this time in a 2017 publication by respected historian Chen Tsui-lien (陳翠蓮), 《重構二二八：戰後美中體制、中國統治模式與臺灣》 (Reconstructing 228: The Postwar US-China System, China's Ruling Model, and Taiwan**).

Chen cites three sources that claim Kerr collected intelligence for the US during his time as a teacher in Japanese-controlled Taiwan. The first, Huang Jinan (or N̂g Kí-lâm [黃紀男]), wrote that Kerr was sent to Taiwan by the Central Intelligence Agency as a spy (臥低的間諜). Chen neglects to point out the problem with  N̂g's story: there was no CIA before 1947--even its precursor, the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) wasn't established until 1942 (the OSS's precursor, the Office of the Coordinator of Information, was established in 1941).

The second source, Wu Hongren's (吳宏仁) 一個家族。三個時代:吳拜和子女們 (which I am still reading after all these months!), says that after WWII, when someone asked Kerr about why US bombers avoided bombing Taipei First High School (台北高校), he admitted that he had been on a mission to collect intelligence about Taiwan during his time teaching there in 1937-40. However, the "someone" (有人) of whom Wu speaks isn't clear (in fact, it could very well be N̂g--Wu doesn't specify that it was a former student).

The third source that Chen uses is an indirect quote from Wang Chengxiang's (王呈祥)'s awful book, 《美國駐台北副領事葛超智與｢二二八事件｣》 (U.S. Vice-Consul in Taiwan George H. Kerr and the "228 Incident"). Wang at least points out that Kerr couldn't have been working for the CIA at that time, though somehow misses out on the fact that the OSS also didn't exist yet during Kerr's first time in Taiwan. Wang quotes a University of Hawaii professor, 鄭良偉 (Robert L. Cheng) who wrote (in a comment board post that is no longer available) that Kerr, who was living in an apartment overlooking Pearl Harbor, told Cheng that he often thought about how, with a heart full of righteousness and patriotism that let him overlook any danger, he went to the enemy territory of Taiwan, on the one hand to teach English, and on the other, to engage in secret field work to collect intelligence (滿腹的公義心及愛國心，讓他無視任何危險，前往敵國國境的台灣，一方面教英語，一方面進行秘密的田野工作，收集情報。) One problem with this statement is that in 1937, Taiwan (or even Japan) wasn't "enemy territory" yet, and unless Kerr was being anachronistic or had a bad memory by the time he talked to Cheng, he wouldn't have been motivated by Pearl Harbor in 1937.

The quote from Cheng in Wang goes on to say during the war, Kerr joined the US Defense Department and was sent to Taiwan. At the time he was publicly known as an English teacher, teaching at Taihoku Provincial College (which is now Taiwan Normal University) and many leaders in the Taiwan democratic movement (like Peng Mingmin) were students of his. (Wang notes in a footnote that Peng actually wasn't one of Kerr's students.) Kerr's "secret identity" was that of a  member of US Naval Intelligence. (在世界大戰期間，Kerr以他的專長學識，投入美國國防部。他被派到台灣。當時他在台灣的公開身份是英語教師，任教於高等學校（現在的師範大學前身），許多台灣的民主領袖（如彭明敏）都曾受教於他。他秘密的身份是美國海軍的情報員。) This account is so totally confused that it's hard to imagine it appearing in a serious history book. It appears to be suggesting either that Kerr was in Naval Intelligence before the US entered the war or that he was teaching English in Taiwan during the time that the US was fighting against Japan. Either way, it's not only factually inaccurate--it's patently ridiculous. I seriously doubt that this came from a conversation with Kerr, unless Kerr was having problems with his memory (or Robert Cheng was having trouble remembering the conversation).

Note that I'm not saying that Kerr didn't make use of his knowledge acquired in Taiwan once he did join Naval Intelligence. I'm also not saying that it's impossible that Kerr might have passed some information on to the US government while he was teaching in Taiwan (though I'm guessing that they would have done better to use a "spy" who could actually speak and read Japanese and/or Taiwanese). But there's no real evidence, as far as I know, that Kerr was "sent" by the US government to Taiwan in 1937 to collect information, and the evidence that has been given in Chen's book is not much more than confused hearsay. The rest of her book seems to be well-documented, and I hope it's more believable than this part.

I have another problem with Chen's interpretation of Kerr's motivations for pushing trusteeship and later independence for Taiwan, but I don't have time to get into that. Suffice it to say that in my view, Kerr's motivations were probably more complicated and changing than what Chen thinks. (She seems to believe that he was totally motivated by his loyalty to the US and its interests.)

*I'm using "sailor" loosely here to refer to the fact that Kerr worked in Naval Intelligence during WW2.

**I know, awful translation of the title.

Another book in the former native speaker's library

I started a post last month on the Taiwan Independence Movement, the assassination attempt on Chiang Ching-kuo, and George Kerr's reaction to it, but had to put it aside while we did some family traveling and I had to prepare for my summer class. Now I've started the summer term, so blogging will continue to be light.

I received a book today with a shipment my wife received from Taiwan. (I limited myself to one book--trying to practice self-control):

陳翠蓮,《重構二二八：戰後美中體制、中國統治模式與臺灣》. 衛城出版, 2017.

There are two excerpts posted on the website Thinking-Taiwan (here and here). Also, there's this review of both Chen's book and Hsiao-ting Lin's Accidental State (which I've written about before). The reviewer sees Chen's book as a good complement to Lin's. I'm looking forward to reading it.

Since I'm working on an introduction to a new edition of Formosa Betrayed, I'll probably start with chapter seven of Chen's book, which discusses the US and the 2-28 Incident, there's a section of about 15 pages on George Kerr and his ideas about trusteeship for Taiwan.

Update on the post-publication fate of Formosa Betrayed

About seven years ago I wrote about some of the theories going around regarding what happened to George H. Kerr's Formosa Betrayed after it was published in 1966 (copyright 1965). To summarize, the book was reprinted by Da Capo Press in 1976 in a more expensive "library edition." Some in the Taiwan Independence Movement believe that the book's copyright was somehow acquired by the KMT or some of its members/supporters. Kerr, for his part, was convinced that China scholar John King Fairbank persuaded Houghton Mifflin to sell the copyright to Da Capo Press because Fairbank was pro-China and wanted to marginalize Kerr's pro-Taiwan book.

As I said then, the idea that the KMT bought the copyright doesn't seem reasonable because if they wanted to suppress Formosa Betrayed, it doesn't make sense that they would go to the trouble of putting out a library edition (especially since they're also accused of having their "professional students" in the US steal the book from libraries). Kerr's belief that Fairbank would go to the trouble of convincing Houghton Mifflin to make a deal with Da Capo doesn't make sense for similar reasons.

After going through more of the records in the GHK collection at the Okinawa Prefectural Archives, I've come to the conclusion that Houghton Mifflin never "sold" the copyright of Formosa Betrayed to Da Capo (or the KMT or anyone else); they merely gave Da Capo permission to reprint the book in a library edition, probably because H-M had no intention of making new printings themselves (sales had declined by 1976). In fact, the Da Capo edition assigns the copyright to Kerr.

Here's the language of the relevant parts of the contract between H-M and Da Capo*:

AGREEMENT made this 25th day of February 1976 between DA CAPO PRESS, INC., ... hereinafter referred to as The Publisher, and Houghton Mifflin Company, ... hereinafter referred to as the Proprietor, concerning a work entitled:

FORMOSA BETRAYED by George Kerr

hereinafter referred to as the Work.

Now, therefore, for and in consideration of their mutual promises and for other valuable consideration, receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged, the parties hereto agree as follows:

1. Proprietor warrants that it is the sole owner of the Work and of all rights granted to the Publisher under this agreement and that the book does not infringe upon any statutory or other copyright, or any right of others whatsoever; also that the book contains no matter which is contrary to law. ...

2. Proprietor hereby grants to the Publisher the sole and exclusive right for the term hereinafter stated [five years, stated in point 3] to publish and sell a hardcover edition of the Work in the English language throughout the United States, its dependencies and possessions, and Canada, and non-exclusively in the Open Market exclusive of the British Commonwealth as presently constituted including the Republics of South Africa and Eire.

...

9. The Publisher agrees to print on the copyright page of each book the copyright notices as contained in the Proprietor's edition and any new copyright information alsong with the phrase, "reprinted by special arrangement with Houghton Mifflin Company."

10. All rights not specifically mentioned herein remain the property of the Proprietor.  

I'm not a copyright lawyer, but it looks to me as though Houghton Mifflin is keeping the copyright, not selling it to Da Capo.

I'm not sure, though, why the copyright on the Da Capo edition (see the link above) is in Kerr's name. I don't seem to have a copy of Kerr's contract with Houghton Mifflin, so I can't check it to see what they agreed to concerning the copyright ownership. However, the 1965 Catalog of Copyright Entries lists the copyright as belonging to Kerr:

I didn't find any copyright entry for Kerr's Formosa Betrayed after 1965. Nevertheless, after finding out about the deal that Houghton Mifflin had made with Da Capo, Kerr wrote to H-M on 10 May 1982, asking to have "all rights and interests" to Formosa Betrayed reverted to him, as allowed by his contract with the publisher.* Kerr wrote that he had not been notified of the agreement that H-M had made with Da Capo "until months after it had been concluded." After hearing from Da Capo in 1976 and receiving a copy of their edition in 1977, Kerr "heard nothing further on the status of the book" from Da Capo, but after he wrote to them in 1981, he received a check for $29.25 in royalties from H-M based on the sale of 13 copies of the book. As Kerr wrote, "Total sales of thirteen copies over a period of seven years can hardly be considered satisfactory to anyone concerned." Kerr then received another royalty statement in September, 1982 that indicated that seven more Da Capo Press editions had been sold in the previous six months.

As I wrote above, I'm no expert in copyright law, but I wonder if Kerr needed to do all this. Is it possible that he lost possible royalties (no matter how small) by having the rights reverted to him?

*Source of the contract and Kerr's letter to H-M: George H. Kerr papers, Okinawa Prefectural Archives.