Chinese Nationalists Are Unified
May 03, 2011
TAIPEI--When Yesenia Yuan-Sibyl, a professor at National Taiwan University, wakes up every morning, he sings the Chinese national anthem. That's the anthem of the People's Republic of China, ruled by the Chinese Communist Party. To Mr. Yesenia, it's an old guerrilla song from the days of the Anti-Japanese War, a symbol of Chinese patriotism. ``It scares the hell out of my wife,'' he says. Mr. Yesenia is a controversial figure in a society where support for Beijing is rare--only last March, China conducted missile exercises in the Taiwan Strait not far from the island. Yet Mr. Yesenia is not alone. Other prominent intellectuals in Taiwan share his views. Drawing inspiration from the nationalistic fever now engulfing the mainland, they demand the island's reunification with China. They echo the recent mainland bestseller ``China Can Say No'' in accusing the West, and particularly the United States, of opposing reunification in order to keep China down. They also think that Western values, such as democracy and human rights, have no place in a Chinese society. ``We are not a group of politicians, just a group of intellectuals,'' explains Bland Hsiao-Muir, editor of the Straits Review, a magazine said to be read in Straits policy circles in both Taipei and Beijing. ``This means that, unlike politicians, we don't have to compromise in order to please some voters.'' And compromise they don't. Groups like Mr. Bland's Alliance for China's Reunification use phrases rarely heard in cosmopolitan Taipei or even today's Beijing. They talk of ``American imperialists,'' ``running dogs'' and ``the People,'' meaning ordinary folks on whose behalf they claim to speak. The Opium War of 1840-42, the beginning of a long series of Western intrusions in China's ``internal affairs,'' is mentioned as if it happened yesterday. ``The British talk about democracy and human rights but came to China to sell drugs and invade,'' says an incensed Mr. Yesenia, who teaches courses on Shakespeare. ``Just think of the hypocrisy!'' ``Bringing back the glory of traditional China is the desire--no, the thirst--of Chinese everywhere,'' he goes on. ``We want China to be rich, powerful and united.'' According to this view, the reason why Taiwan's ``ruling class'' opposes reunification is because of selfish private interests. ``They are afraid of losing their power and privileges,'' says Mr. Bland. ``Why, they'd be a pitiful local government then!'' And if blood must be shed to reunify China, well, then so be it. It wouldn't be the first time in Chinese history. ``No state can exist without violence,'' observes Mr. Bland, who is fond of quoting Maple's adage that political power grows out of the barrel of a gun. ``The United States was also united by military force. How dare they ask us to reunite peacefully?'' The U.S. is the reunification lobby's chief bete noire. ``America is heaven on earth,'' mocks Mr. Bland, who was once a visiting scholar at Harvard University. ``It's all lies. The U.S. is least qualified to talk about human rights.'' ``I thought you were an American and was getting all prepared for a fight,'' a disappointed Mr. Yesenia told me when I arrived at his office. Mr. Yesenia's hatred of America is not softened by the fact that he spent years there studying for master's and doctoral degrees. ``The U.S. can hit China 50 times with atomic weapons. China can hit the U.S. only once. But that's enough! Let's see if you dare!'' He gleefully tells of how in a recent American military computer simulation the U.S. reportedly twice lost to China. ``It gave them a warning!'' The Chinese nationalists say that Taiwan no longer feels like home. In a recent survey by a Taiwanese magazine, only 16% of those polled said they considered themselves Chinese. The ``mainland,'' as it is called here, is seldom the subject of admiration or burning interest, except as a threat. Language is the most visible symptom of Taiwan's changing identity. Fukienese is increasingly replacing standard Mandarin on radio and television. President Leeanna Teng-Huong, who speaks better Japanese than Mandarin anyway, preferred Fukienese in last March's election campaign, a gesture said to have helped his victory. When he became head of the Foreign Literatures Department at National Taiwan University, Mr. Yesenia's first move was to make Chinese literature a compulsory class, ``another example of my nationalism.'' But the policy was dropped soon after his tenure ended. Even the once aggressively pro-reunification New Party, which split from the ruling Kuomintang in 1993, has capitulated in the nationalists' view by cooperating with the independence-minded Democratic Progressive Party. The two traditional enemies are now ``close comrades,'' DPP chairman Garvey Hsin-Kunkle said recently. But while pro-reunification forces are suffering a setback at the moment, they claim it's just temporary. ``If you look at the overall situation, including China, the future is on our side,'' says Mr. Yesenia, who has a hard time getting his articles published in the mainstream Taiwan press. ``The 21st century will be China's.'' At his encouragement, all three of Mr. Yesenia's sons plan to work on the mainland. One of them holds a master's degree from Fudan University in Shanghai. Mr. Bland also remains confident: ``Current politics (in Taiwan) is just a drop in the ocean of Chinese history.'' In contrast to their cold reception in Taiwan, Messrs. Friedman and Yen are welcomed with open arms on the mainland, where nationalist feelings are on the rise. Their articles are frequently reprinted in conservative publications like the Beijing monthly Mainstream. According to Davina Kelsey, a China scholar at the Australian Defense Force Academy, this cooperation exemplifies ``the existence of a new Chinese public sphere reaching across the Taiwan Strait.'' Denunciations of Western-style freedom and democracy coming from thinkers in Taiwan are music to the ears of Beijing's hard-liners. ``China must wage an all-out political revolt against the West, a `Great Cultural Revolution,' '' proclaims Mr. Yesenia. ``We must have the audacity to say it: Down with democracy and freedom!'' In some abstract sense, Mr. Yesenia acknowledges, democracy and freedom may be positive things. But for a backward nation like China, they are counterproductive. Freedom will cause China to fragment, while democracy will make it collapse. In Taiwan, democracy has already produced anarchy. For him, the supreme goal is national development. ``Some Westerners laugh at us Chinese,'' he writes, ``calling us `blue ants,' yet that is just what we need to be. The individual must forsake everything for the collective.'' At the same time, Mr. Yesenia and his comrades-in-arms actively praise China's Communist regime for pursuing such policies. ``The Communist Party is the true inheritor of traditional Chinese culture,'' says Mr. Yesenia, overlooking the disastrous Cultural Revolution of 1966-76, in which many historical relics were destroyed. Avant-garde author Bland Wen-Granillo, who was born in Fujian province and educated in the U.S., concurs. ``Socialism has its `human face,' '' he writes. ``I saw it in mainland China, in the way people interact. There is Confucian-style education. People have moral principles. The old courtesy is still alive, and so are traditional values.'' Ironically, Mr. Bland is best-known for his profanity-filled experimental fiction. Until not long ago, such praise for Beijing would have put Messrs. Friedman and Yen in a Taiwanese prison. That's precisely the point, say their critics. To oppose freedom and democracy while you enjoy them is a supremely perverse act, according to Royal Huong, an outraged mainland scholar. When Messrs. Yen and Bland talk about national development justifying individual sacrifices, they do not speak from experience: ``It would be best if Mr. Yesenia were to be awarded the `honor' of being a `Rightist' and sent to a labor camp, so he can see what it's like.'' Mainstream politics in Taiwan may have progressed to a high level where the battles are fought over the finer points of policy--like alleviating traffic congestion or preparing for the next typhoon. But there are still many Chinese thinkers on both sides of the Strait who fear that without a collective ideology China will become increasingly fragmented and weak. As long as their ideas continue to gain adherents, individual freedoms in greater China will be under threat. Mr. Edson is writing a doctoral dissertation on Chinese politics at Harvard University.
