Mnemozine Issue 18: Journeys by HISSOC Publications

Who Are We? NUS History Society was founded in 1965, and has been dedicated to serving and building the History and European Studies community ever since. Today, it continues to bring together students, alumni, and professors through platforms such as Mnemozine, Détente, and Freshmen Orientation Camps. Follow us at the links below to be kept in the loop for our upcoming projects!

Detente, 2020

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Mnemozine is the platform for History students to engage in historical writing and showcase their best, most insightful and thought-provoking works. Headed by the Publications Directors from Hissoc, our team of dedicated writers and editors works behind-the-scenes to bring this semesterly publication to you. If you are interested to find out more, do check out our past publications at https://issuu.com/mnemozine. If you have any questions on the job scopes at Mnemozine, do feel free to email us at publications@nushissoc.org!

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FROM THE EDITORS Dear reader, 2020 has been a year of significant disruption. As the world grapples with the COVID-19 pandemic, a disease we still do not entirely understand, the way forward is uncertain, but we can say for sure is that our way of living has been irreversibly changed. The theme we have selected for Mnemozine 18, ‘Journeys’, may seem ironic, especially given that most of us have spent 2020 confined within four walls. But up till recently, the challenge and grandeur associated with the term “journey” has been lost amidst the roar of airplanes, cruisers, and bullet trains. Globalization has made geographical distances appear smaller than they actually are. However, stay-home notices and travel restrictions have momentarily shattered man’s ability to go far, and to go fast. With people and places looking farther away than they have ever been, we decided that now would be an apt time to stretch our legs and revisit some of the most exciting journeys in history: from the voyages of intrepid explorers, the movement of new technology and ideas across vast distances, or even the arrival of new ideas and culture from foreign lands. We were very fortunate to find writers with diverse interests and unique interpretations of our theme, allowing us to explore a variety of topics. Firstly, Li’An deconstructs the myth of perhaps one of the most significant journeys in history, Columbus’ voyage of 1492, questioning the legacy of this largerthan-life figure. Darryl follows this up with an intriguing piece of historical fiction, to reconstruct the railroad empire of colonial Manchuria under Japanese rule. Fuelled by his strong interest in K-pop, Salifian

explores the Hallyu wave in Singapore, tracking the journey of K-pop in Singapore through a thoughtful paper. Stanley walks us through his own personal journey to the Silk Road in an engaging travel diary entry, while Wai Ying discusses the customs and culture of the Tibetan Nomads, carving out their journeys across the Tibetan Plains. Jia Yi explores the history of marriage in China, elucidating women’s journeys and struggles in the long road to emancipation and empowerment for themselves. Last, but not least, Ler Nie and Qiu Qing provide insightful reviews for the historical documentary ‘Walk, Run, Cha-Cha’ and the film ‘Fukushima-50’, using the theme of ‘Journeys’ as a lens to critique these works. We are very thankful for the efforts of our writers, whose vibrant experiences and eclectic interests breathe life into Mnemozine every semester, our editors, who provided indispensable guidance and advice on putting together a publication, and our designer, Yi Xuan, without whom this issue would be just a doublespaced Word Document written in Times New Roman, font size 12. (Chicago style citations, of course.) We would also like to thank the History Department for their continued support in making this publication possible. Finally, we would like to thank you for picking up this copy of Mnemozine. We hope you enjoy this issue just as much as we enjoyed putting it together. Journeys are inherently processes of change and upheaval – surprisingly fitting for these tumultuous times. Turn the page to begin your journey with us!

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14 8 4 Contents Page

6 Meet the Team

Interview with Dr. Timothy Barnard

Revising Myths: The Voyage of Columbus

Railroaded Empire A Story in 5 Parts

Kaleidoscopic K-po The Journey of K-pop’s Prevalence in Singapore

44 28 Retracing the Ancient Silk Road Cities of Uzbekistan

The Jacaranda Tree: A Journey Across Burma

46 The Motorcycle Diaries

Home No More: Is the 9,000-year nomadic legacy on the Tibetan Plains coming to an end?

‘Walk, Run, Cha-Cha’ by Laura Nix

op:

Chinese Marriage Laws and Women’s Road to Emancipation

Fukushima 50: A Journey of Hope.

Editors

Nicholas Lam is a second year History major who enjoys laughing at his friends pretending to be adults on LinkedIn. He spends most of his days running from deadlines and catching up on movies.

Ler Nie is a second year History major who is still finding her place in history. Besides reading, her hobbies include mulling over big life questions and having meaningful conversations with close friends.

Andy is a third year Philosophy and Linguistics major. Were he to receive one dollar for every time he submitted his essay on time, it would probably just be enough for him to get an ice cream.

Lois is a Year 2 History major (with a second major in Political Science). When not rushing essays at the very last minute, she may be found complaining about the botched ending of Game of Thrones to anyone who will listen to her.

Xin Yi is a Year 4 political science major who is only alive by the grace of black coffee. While she loves dogs, she lamentably feels like one distracted on their walks since many things fascinate her.

Jia Yi is a third year History and Political Science major who excels at procrastination. You can usually find her rushing through her essays or searching for good and cheap eats.

Andrew is a Y2 History and Political Science Major regretting his ﬂip-ﬂopping in deciding what academic plan to pursue in Year One. In this esemester, he has overloaded, and is overloaded. In his free(ish) time, he is a constant follower of British and American politics, wondering how History will look back on this period in times to come.

Qiu Qing is a third year History major who loves most things Chinese and Japanese (novels/ anime/music/other nerdy things), and inevitably ends up struggling to complete her essays because of her tendency to procrastinate.

Hannah is a Year 3 History major. She keeps a meme folder in her phone and can ask for the toilet in 7 different languages.

Writers

Jia Yi is a Year 2 undergraduate with an undecided major. When in need of an escape from the academic world, she spends her time relishing in Chinese period dramas of scheming concubines and ambitious princes, though certainly not fantasizing over them. Don’t hesitate to hit her up if you need a drama-buddy!

Wai Ying is a second-year History major interested in East Asian and socio-cultural history. Her childhood dream is to travel to a new location each month and experience a new job, and she is now fervently praying for COVID-19 to be over so that she can do just that.

Li An is a Year 4 history major, she likes to play chess and has a penchant for learning new things. Stanley is a Year 2 Political Science and History major. In his free time, he enjoys nature, the outdoors and travelling. His love for travelling has brought him to various off-thebeaten path locations, with the latest adventure being in Central Asia.

Darryl continues his quest to find a nice, secluded valley upon which to found his agricultural dream. Alas, in the absence of suitable land he must continue in his joyless task of “studying” History, freelance writing and running from his problems! Let us hope he succeeds one day...

Salifian is a second year History major with a deep love for anything nostalgic. He also has a peculiar obsession with NDP songs and enjoys listening to them on repeat for days.

Designer Yi Xuan is a Year 3 Communications and new Media major with a minor in History. When not napping, she enjoys watching Studio Ghibli and science fiction films.

An interview with

DR. TIMOTHY BARNARD Dr. Timothy Barnard is an Associate Professor at the Department of History. He teaches modules such as HY2260: History and Pop Culture, and HY2235: Environmental History, classes that are popular even amongst non-History majors. Despite having been forced out of the lecture theatre and onto the confines of our laptop screens by COVID-19, he manages to keep things fresh with an arsenal of retro music videos, GIFs, snarky jokes and raw charisma. In this interview, Professor Barnard shares about the value of travel in his formative years and how the study of history allows him to pursue his varied passions.

INTRODUCTION We’re familiar with you in the classroom and on Zoom, but what do you like to do for fun? My wife would say I don’t have any fun, but I read and I swim, I go to movies, although recently I haven’t gone to movies much because of COVID 19! You’re a very well-travelled man, do you have a favourite holiday destination?

I would argue that I don’t go on holidays, I travel. I journey - if you will. I tend to travel during every break we have, in December, June, July, and I’ve been to every continent except Antarctica. I’d say there were different times and different things I enjoy based on what year it was, how old I was, and what was going on. But I would say I’ve generally enjoyed Africa a lot. Southern Africa. Botswana, Zambia, places like that. I enjoy trips to, well, anywhere really - but if you were to ask me to choose my favorite trip of a particular period of my life: In the last 5 years, I enjoyed camping with my wife in Australia. We drove around for thousands of kilometers, pulled over and cooked our dinner out the back of the van, and moved on to the next day. I enjoyed that. But if you asked me 20 years ago, I’d say taking a boat trip around Indonesia. Roaming the islands.

Over 30 years ago, I worked in Indonesia, in 1986 - 87, and when I was done with the job I came here to Singapore - and I basically travelled the world for six months. I went up through Malaysia, Thailand, over to Burma, to China for three months, and then I went through Mongolia, through the Soviet Union to Europe, all on the Trans-Siberian Railway. Then I took trains and boats over to Finland, Sweden, Norway, and then to England. And then flew back to the U.S., went to my brother’s place in Washington DC, and we drove over to where my parents live. I went from, essentially, Hong Kong to America by land as best as I could. In other words, in every period of my life I had some trip I enjoyed - it just depended on the period. What is the main driver of travel for you? Is it more to get in touch with the world - or, as people say - to find yourself?

I would say curiosity. My parents encouraged us to travel a lot. When my brother was 14, my parents sent him to France for school for a year. And he didn’t speak French. But when he came back, guess what, he spoke French. So my parents were always encouraging us to go explore and find places.

When I was 15, my older brother lived in Egypt. My parents put me on a plane by myself and said “go stay with your brother”, and I went to stay with my brother in Cairo and then in Paris. When I was 17 and 18, I would go live with my brother in Paris, and I would roam around and do what I wanted. It was my norm. To just roam around and be curious. It was how I developed.

Eventually I lived in Indonesia for a year - and then used that money to travel around the world - and by the time I was 23, 24, I had travelled around the world. And it was something my parents encouraged - to go out and learn more about what was going on in the world.

So, now that travel isn’t really an option, what have you been up to lately? Not a lot. I spend my days here - it might look familiar - (He’s in his room where he records his lectures for HY2235.) and I swim. My wife goes out and has dinners and such with her friends. I don’t do that as much, I just stay at home and occasionally I might have a beer with Prof [Ian] Gordon (whom he teaches HY2260 with), because he lives about a block over. But otherwise I haven’t really done much the last six months. I’ve only been on campus three times in the past eight months. I would love to go somewhere in December, but, let’s be honest, that’s not going to happen. So, I will mostly likely just stay here and read, and what will happen is that my wife will say let’s go for a staycation and I’ll probably say “okay” and we’ll go someplace for a staycation. As history majors - there’s always a hesitation of a few seconds whenever job interviewers, or nosy aunts at Chinese New Year ask us “why history?” And it’s a question many of us are still refining our answers to today. When did you decide that history was the pursuit for you? And what inspired you to do so?

I got in late to the game because I was already a master’s student. I was not a history undergraduate - I majored in biology and minored in anthropology. But history provided me with the tools to study the various things I was interested in - which involved culture, another society, the environment - and what formed and shaped that society. Which, is essentially, history, and you can come at it from many different angles.

I would have been 25-26 years old at the time, and I explored a lot of different things before that - travelling and my own interests of study - which was then reflected in the type of modules I teach and the type of research I do. I don’t think what I teach is - I’ll use the phrase “traditional history” - by that I mean political and economic, but that’s mainly because my own background - or how I got into history. I came from an interdisciplinary programme in Southeast Asian studies. I also lived in Indonesia, had the biology background, and so I believed that history gave me an opportunity to focus all of my different interests.

Travelling at Saik River

Being able to teach classes in areas that you’re passionate about: like pop culture and the environment is really a dream job. Do you have any other passions that you haven’t been able to bring into the classroom yet? And if so, what would that module look like? I’ve tried all types of different things. The university has provided me opportunities to teach modules that fit my own diverse interests: be it Environmental History, Sources of Singaporean History, or even History and Popular Culture, with the reasoning that I then have to do classes for them like HY1101E. But, if I had to do a new class, it would probably be on the Age of Discovery - on explorers like Zheng He, Columbus, Magellan, and Captain Cook, maybe even the explorers who went to the South and North Poles - to allow students to understand how people explored and learned new things and gained new knowledge.

TEACHING ABOUT POP CULTURE IN HISTORY

Which recent movie do you think will be remembered in the annals of history as influential today? (Or, what recent movies do you think will be featured in HY2260: History and Pop Culture in the year 2050?) Wolf Warrior 2.

Wolf Warrior 2? Not Wolf Warrior 1. Wolf Warrior 2. If I showed a movie about the 2010s, I would show Wolf Warrior 2 - because it represents Chinese presence in the world, and how they view things, and how America is being eclipsed on the global stage. That or Mad Max Fury Road - those are the two for me.

Why, is there anything you would pick? Because the last ten years was really all the superhero movies, and if you were to pick one of the Avengers movies, well, I don’t know one that would fit…

We understand that every iteration of the module focuses on a different time period - would you like to share with us about some of the other decades you’ve covered other than the 80s with us? One time we did post war Britain - essentially 1945 to about 1970. Other times we’ve done it, it’s always just been kind of American. The first time we focused on the 1950s in America, while another time we focused on only two years: 1968 - 1969 in America. And then we did the 1980s. Right now, in pencil, the plan is to do the 1970s in America. But we [Prof Gordon and him] actually need to go have a beer together and sit down and go “Ah, what do you want to do?”. That’s one effect of COVID-19. If there was no COVID19, we would have figured this out, because we would see each other more often at the office, or even on the way back home. We could just chat and figure it out. What’s your favourite of these time periods?

I would say I enjoy the 80s simply because that was my era. I lived through that and that was me. I remember seeing a lot of the movies in the theatre - and I could even tell you who I went with to see them. The movies about high school life, college, the suburbs, that literally was me.

I think the post-war Britain was the best one yet. (Prof Gordon might not agree with me on that.) But there was a music segment and it was perfect. I thought it fit well. Prof Gordon would say the late 60s one (‘68 - ‘69) was the best one.

But I enjoy the class just because it provides the chance to watch an old movie and think about it - put it into context, and that’s the point: thinking about a range of non-traditional texts and what it can reflect developments in a society.

Wolf Warrior 2 Movie Poster

Hmm, I don’t know, I feel that I wouldn’t pick a movie that’s part of a big franchise… They’re just popcorn, oh I liked Risky Business. Movies like Risky Business didn’t make a lot of money, but they stick and you say oh yeah, that’s good, I can see that. But movies like Fast and Furious 6, you enjoy it, but it’s like popcorn, sometimes you don’t even taste it. Okay, I’ll give you one, how about Captain America: Winter Soldier, the one where Captain America kind of turns against the government and SHIELD, and he first meets Falcon… that’s a good movie, and it creates a certain idea of paranoia and certain relations with the government, and all that. But Mad Max Fury Road, or Wolf Warrior 2. I absolutely would show Wolf Warrior 2. Period. I think it’s a pretty good movie, for what it is.

To represent the 2010s, for Singapore, I would pick the movie I Not Stupid, because it captures what the education system is like for the people and the effects of that on society. I think I Not Stupid is one of the better movies in Singapore in the past 20 years that captures a distinct time and cultural aspect of Singapore.

From Star Wars, to Rocky and Creed, to the new Top Gun, what do you feel about the onslaught of remakes we’re having nowadays? Do you think we should leave the good movies of the past to forever be the good movies of the past? Or are you just happy to have more Tom Cruise? He can make good films, I’m not denying that. But, let’s be honest, many of these movies are done for money, not artistic purposes, if you will. So, film, I have no problem with remakes or updates as long as they have something to say about our time right now. I think a lot of them don’t. The recent Star Wars films were terrible. The last one was particularly horrendous, because they really weren’t saying anything about our society or culture. They were just there to get people to buy stuff. There was no reason for them other than to just to get the buck out of you - if they’re made well, and they say something, then sure. But, at Tom Cruise and the Mission Impossible films. He’s been doing them since the mid-90s, and he feels the need to up the stunts, so over time they’ve just become examples of stunt work - you don’t even care about the quality of the plot or the story, you’re just waiting for the next big stunt he’s going to pull. Going back to Mad Max Fury Road - that was done very well, it had a lot to say about women and gender and leadership. That was a sequel or continuation of another story, and top notch. But if you’re just remaking these films for the toy market or other things… I can pass.

So, now that we’ve found out more about what constitutes a good movie for you, which three movies would you give the Prof Barnard stamp of approval? Streets of Fire. See, none of the movies we mentioned in HY2260 are my favorite movie from the 1980s. My favourite movie from 1980s - which Prof Gordon loves to make fun of - there’s no way we’d be able to fit it into the module. First of all it’s stupid - but it’s my favourite movie and I love it forever and ever. It’s called Streets of Fire. And all I will tell you this: it ends with a sledgehammer duel. And I know this is stupid, and I know it’s dumb, but I just love that movie. I have it on my hard drive that’s connected to my TV. So, everyone has their own favorite, no matter how bad it is. That is my guilty pleasure. But my favorite all time movie would be The Godfather. I actually like West Side Story. When it was released, I really enjoyed Raiders of the Lost Ark - that was a great one. But in the last 20 years or so, I would say, the Matrix, Memento, and Max Mad Fury Road. Who’s your favourite actor of all time?

Paul Newman. You probably don’t know who he is. You know who Paul Newman is, Lois? He was big in the 60’s and 70’s. Lois: I’ve heard of him, but I need to look him up to remember what he’s been in. Nicholas: Google says he was in Cars. He was the old car. We’re showing a Paul Newman movie next semester. But his best movies are The Hustler, Cool Hand Luke, The Sting… Paul Newman.

Scene from The Hustler

If you could recast yourself as a character in a film - which film, and which character? Cody in Streets in Fire.

Popular Culture: After snooping around a bit online, we found out that you’re passionate about the characters Nigel Tufnel and Harlan Pepper, could you share with us what’s special about these two characters?

In another interview, you stated that your favourite cartoon character was the big chicken from Looney Toons? Foghorn Leghorn! He’s the best. He’s my favorite character. I even have all of his cartoons on my harddrive. I have two t-shirts with Foghorn Leghorn. I have two action figures of Foghorn Leghorn. He’s the best cartoon character. Period.

Oh that’s a joke. The university wanted us to put up profiles of our interests, so I put up a fake profile. So did Prof Gordon, but because he’s more adept at this, he’s probably taken his down.

TEACHING ABOUT ENVIRONMENTAL HISTORY

What are your thoughts on conservation in Singapore? Are the green corridors and eco-links enough?

In America, there’s a great story of how Theodore Roosevelt used his position as president to carve out masses of land, essentially creating the modern National Parks system. Is there a Singaporean eco-hero that more people should know about?

Well, we live in a very small urban space, so I appreciate any type of greening that goes on - and we do need to appreciate how green Singapore is. If you look out the window here [Dr. Barnard gestures at the plants outside his window] that’s all planted by my wife. It looks nice and green, and that’s a good thing. But we need to understand how our greenery in Singapore has been manipulated, and planned, and established by the hands of gardeners, administrators, and planners, from Cantley up till today’s government authorities. Yes, we need more green corridors and parks, I think it’s a good use of the land, but we also need to realise the artificial nature of it all.

Nathaniel Cantley. He was the superintendent of the Botanic Gardens from 1880 until 1888, who established the nature reserves and the Central Catchment Area. Basically, when he came into the Botanic Gardens, much of Singapore was deforested, and he sat down and came up with the plan to reforest the island, which is part of the landscape we have today.

The second one, who had a significant role in shaping the manipulated nature of Singapore’s environment, was Tan Wee Kiat. He was the Director of the Botanic Gardens in the 1990s. First of all, he saved the Gardens from a government takeover, which would have steered it towards the direction of being a regular park. He was also the man behind the Gardens by the Bay concept. Although I’m not a big fan of Gardens by the Bay, as I find it to be very artificial, it is an important site in how we interact with nature in a Singaporean way.

My feelings on a lot of this are split - I appreciate it, but we don’t have anything that’s “the wild” here, and that is something I’m not as happy about and have problems coming around to. But I also understand that we live in a very built-up urban space: there’s almost 6 million people in 700 sqkm, yet we have a remarkable amount of green space, which is a tribute to the government and society at large. But we still need to realise the manipulated and planned nature of it. So I’m happy, but not entirely, with green corridors.

As environmental history is a relatively new field in history, do you have any advice for students interested in pursuing this line of inquiry, especially in Singapore where most people tend to be quite dismissive about studying the environment? Environmental history requires you to have an open mind to different sources and approaches, so that when you begin to study a different aspect of the environment - flora, fauna, the landscape - you’re willing to go down paths and tangents you may not be familiar with, and teach yourself new things, such as how plants grow in the environment, or the impacts of air pollution and water pollution on Singapore’s water supply. For the book I recently published (Imperial Creatures: Humans and Other Animals in Colonial Singapore, 1819-1942), when writing about the rabies incident in 19th century Singapore, I had to do more research on the importation of dogs, how pet dogs arose and became domesticated, things like that. You have to be open to a variety of sources and ideas, and that’s what makes it appealing to me. As an environmentalist and someone who we know is a straight shooter - what do you think about Singapore’s flights and cruises to nowhere?

Oh I think they’re just a waste of money. Let’s be honest: if everything was normal, there’d be thousands of planes taking off from Changi Airport daily. Deep down, I don’t think 10 planes taking off is going to make a huge difference to SIA’s bottom line, so I’m not sure it’s the best way for them to generate revenue at this time - but then again, I’m not an airline expert. Cruises to nowhere - first of all, I hate the idea of a cruise, to me they’re cruises to nowhere even when you stop somewhere. When people want to go on a cruise, most of them wind up gambling, or there’s other forms of entertainment, so I have no problem with going on a cruise to nowhere because you spend most of your time on the boat anyways. But what’s the point of a flight to nowhere? People fly to get from A or B. I honestly don’t think the 10 flights to nowhere is going to have much of an impact on the economy, but we’ll see.

What’s your favourite animal? There’s two: one would be komodo dragons. I wrote academic articles about komodo dragons, so I like them very much. My wife would say “that’s not a real answer, no one likes komodo dragons,” so if it’s not komodo dragons, I would say -- bears. Grizzly bears, brown bears, panda bears, any bear will do! Which animal do you think we could do without?

I would not miss mosquitoes, and I have an aversion to snakes. Snakes provide a certain benefit to the ecosystem, but mosquitos don’t. Mosquitoes is the real answer to the question: you could do away with mosquitos and you would not find me crying in the corner.

CONCLUSION

Mnemozine is a publication that will go out to the greater history community and beyond - would you like to leave us with any parting words for students - both seasoned seniors and aspiring historians? For people who want to be historians: I would say you’re more than welcome, please join us in this journey, because we’ll teach you skills that you can apply anywhere: we’ll teach you how to think; we’ll teach you how to write; and, we’ll teach you how to read. And some may say this sounds silly, some people might say “but I know how to read”-no you don’t! You don’t know how to read and understand and interpret materials, and history teaches you how to do that. One of the reasons I went from studying biology and anthropology to history was because it allowed me to deal with variety of sources, societies and cultures and bring them together to create a story that deepens our understanding of the past in a particular society, such as Singapore, or Sumatra, where I used to live. It helped me understand not just that society but also who I am. The skills history gives you (thinking, writing, and reading) can be used in any job. I’ve seen people go on to become a radio DJ, an air stewardess, a teacher, anything you want... and I’ve seen this in the 20 years I’ve spent at NUS, from the people who graduated. People usually don’t think you learn skills in the history department, but I think you actually learn skills that are more easily transferable to the real world, even if it’s not actually understood that way in society.

Revising Myths: The Voyage of Columbus

Wong Li An | e0052537@u.nus.edu

Portrait of man assumed to be Christopher Columbus1

Every year on the 12th of October, millions of Americans worldwide celebrate the achievements of Italian explorer and admiral Christopher Columbus by tuning in to the presidential proclamation. 2 While Columbus’ achievements have been widely celebrated since 1937, more and more historians and Americans are questioning claims made by past historians who wrote about Columbus.3 In particular, triumphant narratives of his discovery have been criticised, as critics argued that they

have largely ignored or side-lined uncomfortable issues such as the brutalisation of natives in the hands of the European settlers.4 More Americans have called for the replacement of Columbus Day by Indigenous People Day amidst a decline in Columbus’ reputation.5 Aside from the ways in which colonialism is justified in the orthodox version of Columbus’ history which some perceive to be problematic, it also propelled him to heights of heroism and achievement that that do not correspond

to new evidence.6 Hence, this article will set out to dispel some common myths surrounding Columbus, explain why some of these myths still persist in the America, and whether Columbus Day should be replaced by the commemoration of another explorer or community.

Christopher Columbus: A Man of Many Myths In 1492, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain financed the admiral’s voyage, where Columbus set out to obtain gold and spices for Spain’s spice trade.7 In a bid to look for gold and spices for the Spanish crown, Columbus displaced the native Indian population, claimed their territory for the Spanish settlers, and forcefully colonised the indigenous people across the Americas.8 According to Hans Koning, Columbus threatened brutality and even set hounds on the them when they did not hand over their gold.9 For Columbus, profiteering was also the main goal of his enterprise, as Miles Davidson argued that Columbus would bring natives aboard ships to ‘[sell them] as slaves’ when he returned to Spain.10 Massacres and diseases wrought upon the natives by the settlers also had a devastating effect on their population. In just 56 years after Columbus’ landing, Ingber’s research shows that a population of over 300,000 indigenous peoples had been reduced to just 0.000166% of the original population.11

A dramatic rendering of Columbus’ Voyage12

Additionally, Columbus was not a competent navigator who was good at science as some authors had claimed he was.13 For instance, in 770, Raynal called Columbus ‘an obscure man, more advanced in his century in the knowledge of astronomy and navigation.’14

Sabestiano del Piombe. “Portrait of a Man, Said to be Christopher Columbus.” [painting] 1519. Metropolitan Museum of Art. Retrieved from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/ File:Portrait_of_a_Man,_Said_to_be_Christopher_Columbus. jpg 2 The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. “Columbus Day.” Encyclopædia Britannica. 05 October, 2020. Retrieved from https://www.britannica.com/topic/Columbus-Day. Last accessed October 28, 2020. 3 Ibid. 4 Christina M. Desai. “The Columbus Myth: power and Ideology in Picturebooks about Christopher Columbus.” Children’s Literature in Education (2014) 45, 187; Heike Paul. The Myths That Made America: An Introduction to American Studies. Bielefeld: Transcript Verlag, 2014, 43-48. Accessed October 18, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/j. ctv1wxsdq, 43. 5 Liz Mineo. “A Day of reckoning.” The Harvard Gazette. 08 October 2020. https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/ 1

However, studies have showed that he was wildly off the mark in his estimation of distance.15 Columbus also depended on unreliable sources and refused to seek expert advice.16 He read Marco Polo’s travelogues, which included myths and fables pertaining anthropophagi or man-eaters who cannibalised their prey in a place called ‘Nangama’.17 As a result of his incompetence, he thought that the European shore was a short distance away from ‘the eastern shore of Asia,’ when in reality, it was further away than he had ever imagined.18 In fact, Columbus and his crew reached the Caribbean by a stroke of luck. His incompetence had risked the lives of his crew by sailing westwards without knowledge of what was awaiting them.19

Another myth of Columbus is that he had set out on his voyage to show that the Earth was not flat.20 As such, this myth suggests that Columbus had contributed greatly to scientific achievement. However, the flat Earth myth was disputed by the time of Aristotle and Eratosthenes, who lived around the 3nd and 4rd century.21 These ancient Greeks had accurately worked out the radius of the Earth through mathematical studies.22 By attributing progress made in nautical navigation to Christopher Columbus, some scholars are trivialising the ‘[geographical] contribution’ made by ‘the [ancient] Greeks.’23 Further undue inflation of Columbus’ achievements has come under recent academic and public scrutiny and contributes to the overall debate on the legitimacy of the Columbus narrative. The myth of Columbus’ discovery had also been challenged by scholars who argued that Leif Erikson and the Vikings landed in the Americas first. They speculated that the Scandinavian Vikings reached what was known as Canada more than a thousand years ago.24 This was a phenomenal achievement as the Vikings travelled in ships and possessed navigation tools that were considered far less advanced than Columbus and his crew, noting that they had arrived five hundred years before Columbus’ landing.25

story/2020/10/pondering-putting-an-end-to-columbusday-and-a-look-at-what-could-follow/ 6 Paul, The Myths That Made America, 43-45. 7 The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. “Columbus Day.” Encyclopædia Britannica. 05 October, 2020. Retrieved from https://www.britannica.com/topic/Columbus-Day. Last accessed October 28, 2020. 8 Paul, The Myths That Made America, 43-45; Ibid; Bert James Loewenberg. American History in American Thought: Christopher Columbus to Henry James. New York: Simon, 1972, 48-49. 9 Desai. “The Columbus Myth”, 180; Hans Koning. Columbus: His Enterprise: Exploding the Myth. New York: Monthly Review Press, 1991. 10 Ibid; Miles H. Davidson. Columbus Then and Now: A Life Reexamined. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1997. 11 Ibid; Bonnie Verbung Ingber. “The Writing of ‘‘Encounter’’: The Editor’s Perspective.” New Advocate, 5(4), 241–245, 1992.

In 1960, a number of archaeologists had found out an ‘ancient Norse settlement’ had been situated in a plain known as ‘Promontorium Winlandiae’ in the 1670s.26 Helge Ingstad and Anne Stine found ruins reminiscent of those used by Vikings in Iceland and Greenland.27 While Leif Erikson’s achievement is honoured annually by the Presidential Proclamation on the 8th of October, research on Leif Erikson and the public’s recognition of his achievements remains relatively low, which might be attributed to how the Vikings did not establish a permanent settlement in Vinland.28 At the same time, views that either Columbus or Leif Erikson discovered America were problematic because they centred on a European perspective.29 Indeed, other rumours and theories exist, such as the landing of ‘Irish monk Saint Brendan the Navigator’ in ‘6 C.E.’, and Russell Freedman’s argument that the ancestors of the indigenous peoples were the first to arrive in the continent.30 Nonetheless, Leif Erikson’s story calls into question Columbus’ status as the first European person to ‘discover’ America. The problem lies in the use of sources by historians who only referred to Columbus’ travelogues. Heike Paul explained that Columbus embellished details about his travels and voyages as he expected people to read them years later: Columbus was writing his own myths. 31 Loewenberg argued that Columbus termed himself as ‘the first European to write [about] the new world,’ so he could claim his ‘discovery’ of the ‘Americas’ and please the Spanish Crown into funding his voyage.32

More Americans are questioning whether Columbus Day should be celebrated given recent contestations over the triumphalist and heroic narratives of Columbus. As the history of Columbus’ voyage is widely taught within American classrooms, it is often framed through rose-tinted glasses and taught to generally impressionable children.34 John Stephens and Christina Desai noted that the Columbus story has been scoped to protect children from ‘[abandoning] their hero.’35 The myth is also used to inculcate their sense of belonging and national pride.36 Today, Columbus Day remains celebrated as opposition to the holiday comes at a political cost for congressmen who depend on the support of their fellow Italian-Americans.37 Although revisionist works on Columbus have proliferated since the 1970s, Schuman, Schwartz and D’arcy found out that most Americans still spoke of him in ‘traditional’ terms, even though less of them saw him as a hero.38 Nonetheless, the percentage of white American respondents who viewed Columbus as a villain remained the same, leading researchers to believe that their sentiments regarding Columbus were not influenced by revisionist works. Instead, public confidence in leaders had declined after the ‘Vietnam [War] and the Watergate [scandal].’39 They concluded that American textbooks and the media were largely responsible for not addressing the revisionist view.40 The massacre of the indigenous people, and the diseases that Columbus and his crew transmitted to the indigenous peoples were downplayed in many children’s books.41

One of Columbus’ many monuments scattered throughout the United States33 Theodore De Bry. “Columbus Allegory.” [painting] Dr. Schorsch. [scan] Wikicommons . 1598. Retrieved from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Columbus_ Allegory.png 13 Matthew H. Edney ‘Creating “Discovery”: The Myth of Columbus, 1777–1828.’ Terrae Incognitae 52 (2), 195-213, 2020; Desai. “The Columbus Myth,” 185. 14 Ibid., 202; Guillaume Thomas François Raynal, Histoire philosophique et politique des établissemens et du commerce des Européens dans les deux Indes , Geneva (3): 268–291, 1781. 15 Desai, ‘The Columbus Myth’, 185; Edmund S. Morgan. “Columbus’ Confusion about the New World.” The Smithsonian Magazine. October 2009. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/travel/columbus-con12

fusion-about-the-new-world-140132422/ 16 Edmund S. Morgan. “Columbus’ Confusion about the New World.” The Smithsonian Magazine. October 2009. https:// www.smithsonianmag.com/travel/columbus-confusion-about-the-new-world-140132422/ 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid.; Edney, “Creating Discovery”, 202. 19 Ibid. 20 Singham, Mano. “Columbus and the Flat Earth Myth.” The Phi Delta Kappan 88, no. 8 (2007): 590-92. Accessed October 20, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/ stable/20442332 . 21 Ibid. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid; Edney, “Creating Discovery”, 206.

Even when attempts were made introduce a neutral perspective of Columbus, these attempts often fell short of their objectives as Columbus’ heinous acts were merely implied, and rarely explicitly stated.42 Myths regarding his learnedness were repeatedly propagated amidst the Euro-centric framing of the narrative.43 As a result, many Americans continue to believe in the Columbus story and celebrate Columbus Day. Consequently, until minority voices and opinions could gain traction in recent years, these issues have been side-lined by the public.44

Conclusion

In 2020, someone vandalised the monument of Christopher Columbus in a ‘waterfront park.’45 After his statue was vandalised, the Mayor of Boston, Martin Walsh, said that the city will effectively remove his statue from the site.46 Professors and students from Harvard spoke out on the issue, calling for Columbus Day to be replaced by a day which celebrates the ‘survival and resilience of Indigenous peoples.’ Others, especially the Scandinavian-Americans, honoured Leif Erikson’s exploration, as it allowed them to play a crucial ‘[part] in…[America’s history.]’48 Nonetheless, Leif Erikson’s achievement continues to be side-lined by the public and revisionist activists continue to face criticism by the Trump administration for undermining the orthodox interpretation of Columbus.49 Given the slow changes that are taking place in American campuses today, only time will tell how subsequent generations will remember Columbus’ legacy.

24 John Fleischman. “Who was Leif Eriksson and Why was he important?” The Old Farmer’s Alamanac. September 24, 2018. Retrieved from https://www.almanac. com/content/who-was-leif-eriksson 25 Ibid. 26 Ibid, Olivia B. Waxman. “The troubling history of the fight to honour Erikson-not Columbus-as the Man who discovered America.” Time. October 05, 2018. Retrieved from https://time.com/5414518/columbus-day-leif-erikson-day/ 27 Ibid. 28 Ibid, National Day. “Leif Erikson Day-9 October 2020.” N.d. Retrieved from https://nationaltoday.com/leif-erikson-day/; Donald J. Trump. “Proclamation on Leif Erikson Day, 2020.” Whitehouse.gov. October 08, 2020. https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/proclamation-leif-erikson-day-2020/ 29 Stephen Mills and Melanie Menagh.“Who Discovered America? Move over, Columbus; the Vikings Are

Coming to Crash the Festivities.” Omni 13 (12): 33, 1991; Eric Weiner. “Coming to America: Who was First?” npr. October 08, 2007. Retrieved from https://www.npr.org/ templates/story/story.php?storyId=15040888 30 Ibid. 31 Paul, The Myths That Made America , 43-45; Ibid. 32 Ibid; Lowenberg. American History in American Thought, 31. 33 Nicolino Giovannucci. “Christopher Columbus Monument – 2848 S Broad St. Philadelphia Emanuele Caroni, Sculptor – 1876.” Wikicommons. 20 October 2017. Retrieved from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Christopher_ Columbus_Monument_in_Marconi_Plaza.jpg 34 Desai. “The Columbus Myth”, 181. 35 Ibid. 36 Ibid.; Paul, The Myths That Made America , 43. 37 Christine Mai-Duc. “This is why we still have Columbus Day.” Los Angeles Times . October 12 2015. Retrieved from https://www.latimes.com/nation/nationnow/la-na-nncolumbus-day-why-do-we-still-celebrate-20151012-htm lstory.html 38 Howard Schuman, Barry Schwartz and Hannah D’Arcy. “Elite Revisionists and popular beliefs: Christopher Columbus, Hero or Villain?” Public Opinion Quarterly 69 (1), Spring 2005, 10-16; Arthur M. Schlesinger. The Disuniting of America: Reflections on a Multicultural Society. New York: W. W. Norton, 1991; Charles Taylor. “The Politics of Recognition.” Multiculturalism and ‘The politics of Recognition’ ed. Amy Gutmann, 25-74. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. 39 Ibid., 14; Jon Stewart, Ben Karlin and David Javerbaum. America (The Book): A Citizen’s Guide to Democracy Inaction. New York: Wamer Books, 2004; Barry Schwartz. “Postmodernity and Historical Reputation: Abraham Lincoln in Late Twentieth-Century American Memory.” Social Forces (77), 63-103. 40 Ibid., 17-22; Desai. “The Columbus Myth”, 181. 41 Desai, “The Columbus Myth,” 187. 42 Ibid., 181. 43 Ibid., 185. 44 Alessandra Bocchi. “Columbus Day Stands for Diversity.” Wall Street Journal. October 11, 2020. Retrieved from https://www.wsj.com/articles/columbus-day-standsfor-diversity-11602446541 45 Liz Mineo. “A Day of reckoning.” The Harvard Gazette . 08 October 2020. Retrieved from https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/10/pondering-putting-an-end-to-columbus-day-and-a-look-at-w hat-could-follow/ ; Megan Hill. “A Day of reckoning.” Liz Mineo (eds) The Harvard Gazette . 08 October 2020. Retrieved from https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/10/pondering-putting-an-end-to-columbus-day-and-a-look-at-w hat-could-follow/ 46 Ibid. 47 Ibid. 48 Olivia Waxman, ‘The Troubling History of the Fight to Honor Leif Erikson—Not Columbus—as the Man Who “Discovered America”’, Magazine, Time, accessed 5 November 2020, https://time.com/5414518/columbus-day-leif-eriksonday/ . 49 Ibid.; Donald. J. Trump. “Proclamation on Columbus Day, 2020.” Whitehouse.gov. October 09, 2020. Retrieved from https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/proclamation-columbus-day-2020/

Disclaimer: Based on events, not an accurate retelling.

daIren, 1931. Kwantung is perpetually sleepless, and like all cities, it takes pride in its insomnia. The Dalian1 syndrome, the locals call it: the Mantetsu 2 men in their stiff young suits, the merchants fresh off the docks from Kyushu, the entertainers from the bars – bearing the name of every great city on Earth, they say. It’s a seamless flow of lights, dazzling, dizzying. Seductive.

I murmur something into my drink. Not quite sure who I’m addressing – my old self, with Marx on the brain and fire in the eyes, or the new me who slumps in bars waiting for impossible job offers.3 Not quite sure which is more pathetic, either.

The Councilman seated next to me doesn’t share my dismay. The cigarette smoke wavers in the spaces between the ceiling fans as he speaks – I barely hear a word, but I know he’s talking local politics again. His friends guffaw with him, the drink heavy on their breaths, as he jokes about the incompetence of the local government. Bawdy things, too: Dairen has the best nightlife, it is said, this side of the Empire outside the Home Islands.4

Now his voice rises to comprehensibility. “Oh, and you wouldn’t believe the things the Mantetsu are taking about. Damned money-grubbing men – they don’t give a hoot for us poor folk stuck here in Paradise!” Another chorus of giggling, like a clique of lawyers mocking their latest cases. “Just the other week they were talking about moving into Manchuria, like prettyboy Zhang never died5 and the damned Republicans aren’t strutting about like the monkeys own the place.” Another voice pipes up. “I heard another of their – ah – representatives is holdin’ up in town. Ain’t they got business dallying with the Chinese? Maybe Hu Shih turned up again, so’s they can lick his – “6”

“Oh, I wish they were just here to grease the balls of the Shinamen.” The Councilman doubles over. “They were talking about railroads – ugh – like we don’t have enough of them already! Do you know how many people I’ve had to suck up to in the goddamned Youth League because of the last provocation over railroad rights?7 And don’t get me started on the quarrels with the Sentetsu8 thieves – “

I’ve heard enough. The cold hotel walls are better company than these. As I turn, someone clad in the uniform of the Police bursts into the bar. His eyes lock onto mine, then the Councilman’s My heart stops.

“Councilor. You need to come with me. Now. There’s been an incident four hundred miles north. We’re at a state of war.” He turns to me, his eyes hawklike. “And you’re the émigré from Tokyo, I assume? I have a message for you. Pack your things and prepare to leave by dawn tomorrow.” He smiles. “Your friends are calling you back. And they say there’s a job waiting for you, when our boys are done up in Hsinking…”

Kwantung, or Guandong in Putonghua, is an umbrella term for the land concessions on the Liaodong Peninsula ceded after the 1898 Sino-Japanese war. Dairen, or Dalian, is its urban centre, a port on the coast of the Kwantung Holdings. 2 Mantetsu: a Japanese colonial railway company that owned lands in Manchuria. 3 Many Reform Bureaucrats had Marxist origins 1

Darryl Shya Shao Feng | darryl_shya@u.nus.edu

hsInKInG, 1933. The Salt Palace10 is uninspiring, to say the least: cramped, its squat stature ill-fitting to its Imperial occupants. Still it stands before us, and in front of it stands the General. The head of the Kwantung Army in Manchuria – and, it appears, our new superior. Kishi doesn’t bother with salutes – he offers a stiff hand-shake.11 I do likewise.

“Let’s get down to business then, shall we?” Kishi hands his briefcase to an underling, unfurling notes that look as yellowed as the University paper they’re written on. “Your superiors – and Tokyo – want their money’s worth from this place. I’ve read the introductory papers. You want to keep the businessmen out, you’re suspicious of what they’ll bring.”12

The General nods, slowly, like his head will fall off with excessive zest. “That is our concern, yes. The Mantetsu are – well, they have proven invaluable so far. But they are beginning to act a little strange in the pursuit of their goals.” He hands us a pamphlet, the ink freshly-stained on the paper. “We think some of them are beginning to go behind our backs. These Concordia people, who want to reject Japanese rule13 – and there are those who think the Marxists have it right – “

By some divine providence, I keep my face still. “Well, what can we do? The rails are the only thing worth profiting from here. The soybean trade – why, Manchuria would be desolate if not for that.”14

Kishi leans forward. I’m not sure I like the gleam in his eyes. “That’s where we come in, General. Industrialization is our goal, yes? And we want to kick the Mantetsu upstairs, so your precious Army can have all the space it wants to play games with Tokyo.” Kishi smiles again. “The answer is simple. The Mantetsu are powerful here because they know how to build things. All we need are some builders of our own – and we border the most populous country in Asia. All we need to do is to start moving men.” He unfurls a map – of course Kishi is the one with a map – and begins to speak of the trains.

Dairen was referred to as a “kokusai toshi”, an international city, and its expatriate class drove a thriving entertainment industry. 5 Zhang Zuolin, the head of the Fengtian Clique that ruled Manchuria, was assassinated in 1927 at the behest of Japanese Army leadership. His son later pledged allegiance to the KMT government in Nanjing. 6 Hu Shih, a prominent Chinese 4

democratic activist, and other intellectual exiles from KMT-ruled China visited Dairen due to its lack of censorship on free speech and publishing. 7 Manchurian Youth League: a mock parliament of Japanese settlers formulated in 1928, it was known for encouraging electoral reform and pan-Imperial sentiment. 8 Chosen Tetsudo: the Korean equivalent of the Mantetsu. 9 This is the 1931 Mukden incident – a faction of the Japanese Army staged an attack on a Mantetsu railway as pretext for intervening in Manchuria. 10 The Salt Palace was the holding residence of the Emperor Puyi, so called because it had previously been used by a provincial salt taxation authority. He lived in the building from 1932 to 1945. 11 Nobuosuke Kishi, at this time a Reform Bureaucrat sent from Tokyo. 12 Industrial concerns expressed interest in the Manchurian economy in the immediate post-conquest period. 13 The Concordia Association, a famously pro-Chinese organization based in Dairen. 14 The Mantetsu specialized in soybean trade, and Dairen was a prominent shipment port for soy from the hinterland.

The General nods again, his face a carefully managed blank. He traces a hand over the cities of Manchuria – and the railroads, criss-crossed, that connect them to Dairen and Korea, and then to the outskirts of Manchuria itself. As I leave, I hear whispers about Harbin, but it doesn’t seem to be anything important. Who would care about a god-forsaken frozen hellhole parked on the Soviet backyard?

1936, harBIn.

Amakasu Mashihiro15 chuckles at the suspect. The man looks faintly absurd in the uniform of the Kempeitai – I’ve heard the rumors of Yakuza involvement, but in all honesty, the man looks more at home in a Western family dinner

portrait than in an interrogation chamber.

Again the slap of pistol-butt to flesh, and the bloodied man falls off his chair. Mashihiro leans over, grinning. The pistol glints with the light of seasoned polish, with the blood, like jewels, studding the barrel. I can see nothing else.

“I’ll ask you one last time: whose bright idea was it to have your men steal the shipment? You’re nothing but a drug mule, and quite frankly the Civil Affairs Ministry has no time for you – but we need your boss.” The man is silent – the side of his head is stained red, and his eyes are listing. I’m no doctor, but even I can tell this one isn’t long for the world. Mashihiro snarls, hits the supine

man again, for good measure, and walks out to meet me. “If he doesn’t talk, we’ll shoot him out back. It’s not like there isn’t another like him every other week.”

I have to fight to un-grit my teeth. “Captain Mashihiro. I assure you, I am not here to chase down your little – ah – private commercial operations.” 16 God, to call a smuggler a smuggler, even one as well connected as this… “I am here to ensure that the connections between Tianjin and Manchukuo remain unmolested. Quite frankly, I would have preferred your Hsinking office.” “Ah, yes. Your labor flows, is that right?” Mashihiro shrugs expansively. “You must understand, you reform bureaucrats, that I simply do not take notice of all the orders you are passing onto me. I know the urge of all Tokyo suits is to turn reality into charts and tables, but what I am doing here – well, it simply does not work that way: I think you know as well as I do that Manchuria is built on the blood of the Chinaman.” “That is well out of your pay-grade, Captain. We intend to build a new nation here, one that serves the Japanese – not a nation born in atrocities.”

Mashihiro merely nods. “Yes, and your plans show it. Naïveté, that is what it is: your state-led companies, your polished economic planning. You people have never grasped what power in this land really is.” He waves at the smokestacks of the city. How many of them burn with the kindling of the Chinese? How many more will taste blood before dawn? “This land is built on bloodshed, and no numbers will fix that. Tell that to our mutual friend, will you? And tell Kishi he’s always welcome if he ever wants to visit. If he can get his ass off those pleasure-barges in Dairen, anyway…”

A Kempeitai military policeman, involved in the assassination of several Japanese anarchists, reviled for brutality. Would later become head of the Manchurian Film Association. 16 Mashihiro is believed to have aided in drug smuggling operations in Manchuria and China. 15

A Map of Manchuria 20

1939, daIren There is a pit at the heart of my stomach, one which no amount of alcohol can make go away. I see it in the numbers that come through my office. Always the numbers from the factories of Fengtian – casualties here, statistics there – and behind them how much have we concealed? Enough. I must focus, focus on Kishi and his smiling face – is it just me or does it look more like a rictus these days? “So I was saying that the latest plans the Board has look pretty ambitious until you consider the end-game of Tokyo, right? There’s talk of building a real Eastern Autarky with our Chinese territories, and an end to the petty steel trade that the Americans thought to cripple us with…”17

“Kishi, I think you should take a look at this.” I open the dossier, fishing a random image out of theclustered tangle of papers. “We found, well, I found evidence of your indiscretions. And goddamn if you can’t hide your indiscretions, Nobusuke. A monthly trip to Dairen, the biggest gossip chamber this side of Osaka? What the hell were you thinking?” 18 Kishi stares at me and begins to laugh. It’s his trademark laugh, like the howl of a jackal, and it echoes into the far corners of my mind.

The United States imposed steel tariffs on Japan following its invasion of China in 1937. 18 Kishi was a notorious womanizer, known for his frequent visits to the brothels of Dairen. 19 Fumimaro Konoe, a Japanese nobleman, took the office of Prime Minister in 1940. His reign would mark the passing of the National Mobilization Law, and the beginning of Japan’s transition into a semi-fascist state. 20 Driscoll, Mark. Absolute Erotic, Absolute Grotesque: The Living, Dead and Undead in Japan’s Imperialism, 1896-1945. Duke University Press, 2010. 17

“I don’t think you get it, man. Who are you going to tell? We were hanging with the top brass, the Army fellows and the Tokyo suits. Who is going to be surprised by this?”

“Listen, Kishi – we’re subjects of the Empire. We have rules, and there will be consequences – and maybe we can get some of that slave labor accusations checked out while you’re at it - “ “Listen – around these parts, I am the Empire .” Kishi coughs a little on his sleeve. “You’ve never really gotten it, have you? The plans we make, the industries we organize – coal, copper and steel – that’s business. And exploitation is part of that, yes, I know, but it’s also natural, you know? We come in here and we build things, and maybe we enjoy ourselves in the process.” I can barely focus my attention at the man. “We signed up to build something different from what we’re building now. I can tell you that. When did it all become so… inhuman?”

The Devil of Manchuria shrugs. “Perhaps it always was. But this is no work for the innocent. You know that. Now please, I have another Nissan representative to amuse.” He gestures me out, like a policeman shuffling away an errant rickshaw.

coda: ToKyo, 1940 It’s night when I arrive at the branch office. It’s a long way from Kwantung, this little outpost tucked away in the suburbs of Shibuya. The rains fall softly between the wooden walls.

I leaf through the final report I have to offer. Konoe’s new men are everywhere in the woodwork, and the numbers with them, too. The Sphere has much to rationalize, and pliant natives to support the work of the Emperor, and what else is there to say, really?19

I know when I am beaten. The old dream – of building a humane state in Manchukuo – is forgotten, and the cold numbers have reached Japan itself. There is a new dawn coming, one whose colors splay brilliant and ugly on the drywalls, and I am not sure I wish to witness it. I note the final numbers. Kishi has the ear of the Prime Minister, and doubtless he will come to report this as a victory: but there are twenty million who have arrived on the shores of Manchuria, sent there to live and die for our machines.20 As I leave, the ghosts of the past rustle in the cold breeze. I have long since given up on quieting them, and so, like me, they tarry a little and are gone.19

Manchuokuo, 1940s

Kaleidoscopic K-pop: The Journey of K-pop’s Singapore Salifian B. Sulaiman | salifian@u.nus.edu The popularity of Korean Pop (K-pop) in Singapore and the world today is a phenomenon that is both unprecedented and astonishing. Who would have thought that K-pop, delivered in a language that was once nearly non-existent in Singapore, would take the country by storm? Year after year, we see massive crowds welcoming K-pop idols arriving at the airport and K-pop concerts being sold-out in just a span of a few hours. One might wonder, “How did K-pop reach this stage? Was it just a part of the Hallyu (Korean) wave1 that was driven primarily by K-dramas?” This essay answers these questions by examining the journey of K-pop, a budding genre’s decade-long pursuit of achieving the success and ubiquity observed in Singapore today. Facing steep competition against other global music genres, K-pop adopted an adaptable stance, where it rode heavily on existing popular cultures and regional events. This adaptable stance ultimately contributed to its consolidation as a genre in Singapore by the early 2010s. Aware that the Korean language in K-pop songs was a huge barrier against reaching out to non-Koreans, K-pop singers initially collaborated with more familiar languages spoken in the region. This enabled them to widen their reach and influence in Singapore. Before the rise of K-pop in Singapore in the early 2000s, Singaporeans usually listened to music sung in a language familiar to them, such as Western English music and traditional music from Malay, Chinese, and Tamil artistes. Even though music from less-familiar languages, like Japanese and Latin music, managed to

Hallyu wave refers to “a surge in the international visibility of Korean culture, beginning in East Asia in the 1990s and continuing more recently in the United States, Latin America, the Middle East, and parts of Europe”; Sue Jin Lee, “The Korean Wave: The Seoul of Asia,” The Elon Journal of Undergraduate Research in Communications 1, no.1 (Spring 2011): 85. http://www.elon.edu/docs/e-web/academics/ communications/research/vol2no1/09suejin.pdf. 2 Samuel Lee, “More J, K and L to fill your radio days,” The Straits Times, April 20, 2001. 3 I am sure everyone remembers how popular Wonder Girls “Nobody” was in 2009 when an English version was released! It was so popular globally that it even “became the first K-pop song to appear on the [Billboard] Hot 100.”; Tamar Herman, “Looking Back On Wonder Girls’ ‘Nobody,’ A Decade Later,” BillBoard, September 23, 2018, https://www.billboard.com/ articles/columns/k-town/8476481/wonder-girls-nobody10-year-anniversary-k-pop-hot-100-chart.

permeate into Singapore’s music scene, they were not widely popular.2 Of course, with limited access and exposure to foreign languages, such music’s appeal remained low.

The K-pop industry recognised that they faced the same language barrier against their entry into Asian markets, and they pushed artistes to assimilate into the local music scene using more familiar languages in the region. K-pop’s desire to appeal to a wider, non-Korean audience can be seen by the incorporation of English lyrics in its songs, not only as catchphrases but also entire choruses or even songs.3 Aside from the incorporation of English lyrics, artistes also included English songs in their discography at concerts. An apt example of this assimilation can be found in the very first K-pop concert in Singapore, featuring Lena Park Jung Hyun, who performed live in front of 1500 fans in December 2002. Lena Park was a phenomenal vocalist in South Korea and was especially unique due to her English fluency and her familiarity with Western pop songs in the 1990s.4

Lena Park: The first K-pop idol to hold a concert in Singapore. This pioneering K-pop idol spent her childhood in Los Angeles, which explains her English fluency and familiarity with Western pop songs of the 1990s and early 2000s. In 2002, “In a Dream”, the title song featured in her album Op.4, was THE K-pop song in Singapore, which garnered her a large number of fans in her concert. While it is now common for idols to be bilingual or even multilingual, note that in the early 2000s, K-pop idols that could converse and sing in English was a rare sight. 4

s Prevalence in T W IC E

While she still performed songs from her new album, Op 4, she also sang popular English songs that appealed to the Singaporean audience.5 Her decision to include a fair share of music covers in her concert discography illustrates the lack of prominence K-pop had then and shows recognition of the language barrier K-pop faced in Singapore then. This tactic of assimilating into more familiar music genres can also be observed in K-pop artistes’ image and promotion methods. To capitalise on the growing Chinese market in the early 2000s, many K-pop artistes collaborated with Chinese stars to reach a wider audience. For instance, BoA, one of the pioneers of the ‘dance and singer’ K-pop soloist, starred in a Chinese movie and subsequently included Mandarin tracks in her new album, My Name.6 Did You Know? When BoA made a huge transition from her cute image to one that was more sexy and flirtatious in the early 2000s, even Singaporean fans took notice and responded with mixed reactions- an occurrence that is not new to K-pop fans today. Yes, fan wars did exist in the early 2000s as well, proving that K-pop fans in the past are just as immature as they are now. *sighs*.

Next, the K-pop industry also took advantage of regional and global events and initiatives to expand its reach across the world, including Singapore. The early 2000s provided various avenues and opportunities for K-pop to be exposed and publicized to the rest of the world. The first most prominent and famous global event was the 2002 FIFA World Cup. Jointly organised by Korea and Japan, the FIFA World Cup received billions of viewers, giving featured K-pop artistes an exceptional opportunity to reach out to a huge number of people.8 The FIFA World Cup was particularly popular in Singapore, where football is a sport loved by many, regardless of age or ethnicity.9 As the World Cup happens once every four years, viewing the World Cup forms a quadrennial tradition for football fans in Singapore. Hence, when artistes perform for the event through theme songs or live performances, these football fans watching the World Cup are exposed to these artistes and genres.10

RY R R O IO YS RR R JUN O S PE SU

The resounding success that the proclaimed “K-pop princess” had in Singapore thereafter signalled the importance of producing Mandarin songs to permeate into the Chinese market and, subsequently, the rest of Asia. This sparked the rise of Mandarin subgroups in the late 2000s, such as Super Junior-M, the Mandarin subgroup of popular K-pop group Super Junior.7 Therefore, K-pop managed to overcome the language barrier in Singapore by actively assimilating into the music scene through more familiar local languages.

Elisa Chia, “A diva in demand,” TODAY, December 17, 2002, http://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/ today20021217-2.2.37.2. 6 “BoA to star in Chinese film,” TODAY, April 7, 2003, http://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/ today20030407-1.2.30.3.2; “Untitled,” The Straits Times, October 13, 2004. 7 “Face of K-pop turning Chinese,” The Straits Times, June 8, 2008. 8 “213 countries tuned into 2002 FIFA World Cup,” FIFA, December 6, 2002, https://www.fifa.com/worldcup/news/213-countries-tunedinto-2002-fifa-world-cup-27690. 5

Mishelle Lim, “Football Fever!- Kickoff@Singapore,” Roots, July to September, 2020, https://www.roots.gov.sg/learn/stories/football-fever/story. 10 A prime example of artistes who gained popularity through the FIFA World Cup 2002 was Lena Park. She gained Singaporeans’ recognition as South Korea’s Whitney Houston through “her lung-busting performances at the recent World Cup opening and closing ceremonies.” ; Eltsa Chta, “You saw her during the World Cup,” TODAY, December 5, 2002, http://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/ today20021205-2.2.99.4. 9

Popular Dramas of the 2000s and famous OSTs Other than the FIFA World Cup, there was also the “Visit Korea Year” in 2001, an active promotion by the Korean government to boost tourism.11 K-drama was also becoming increasingly prominent, and they always featured Official Soundtracks (OSTs) by popular K-pop artistes. For instance, the top K-drama of the early 2000s, Winter Sonata, featured the OST “From the Beginning Until Now”, which took Singapore by storm.

Lastly, Korean brands in Singapore also actively promoted rising K-pop stars, who acted as ambassadors to their products. Electronic companies, like Samsung, advertised new products by featuring performances by rising groups such as Super Junior in its showcases.12

Ryu, “From the Beginning Until Now,” Winter Sonata (2002)

These events intensified the Hallyu wave in Singapore, which K-pop actively rode on and gained exposure with. With international events and the rapid developments of the Hallyu wave, K-pop became increasingly familiar to Singaporeans.

Taeyeon (From Girls Generation), “Can You Hear Me,” Beethoven Virus (2008) SS501, “Because I’m stupid,” Boys Over Flowers (2009)

11 12

“Come on over!” The Straits Times, November 24, 2000. “Super Galaxy,” TODAY, June 8, 2010, http://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/Article/today20100608-1.2.48.6.

After effectively utilizing existing avenues to gain a following in Singapore in the 2000s, a multitude of K-pop groups entered the Singapore market in the 2010s. The large influx of groups allowed the K-pop genre to secure a foothold in Singapore’s music market, setting the genre to dominate the music scene later. As discussed above, K-pop was suffused into Singapore’s music scene during the 2000s. By 2010, K-pop was already an established and recognised genre in Singapore, reaching the same popularity as J-pop and Latin music. The K-pop industry capitalised on this fame, as evident from the huge number of groups beginning to infiltrate Singapore’s music scene in the 2010s. The early 2010s saw a surge in K-pop concerts in Singapore, many of which sold out.13 This included the Korean Pop Night 2010, which featured numerous top groups of the time, such as Girls’ Generation and Big Bang, and was attended by almost 9000 fans.14 This new era of K-pop, also known as the ‘2nd generation of K-pop’, saw increased vibrancy in the type and style of groups. In 2011 alone, over thirty groups and idols came to Singapore for concerts and featured performances.15 During this period, K-pop also started to play an increasing influence on local music and culture. Local artistes such as Revalina, a local Malay group, infused K-pop into their music—a trend which continues

until this day.16 Additionally, K-pop also permeated into local culture through local brands such as BreadTalk, which promoted Korean-inspired products, such as the KimCheese bread, which was “meant to evoke the Korean pop culture craze.”17 The deliberate use of K-pop to boost the popularity of local brands exemplifies the notion that K-pop was not just a huge part of popular culture but it was also an effective medium to reach out to people, mainly those of the younger generation. This is testament to the success the 2nd generation of K-pop had in consolidating its position in Singapore through the proliferation of K-pop groups in the 2010s. K-pop did not achieve its dominance in Singapore’s music scene overnight. Instead, it took an entire decade for Singaporeans to be familiar with the genre and embrace it enough to be part of Singapore’s popular culture. This music genre’s journey from being relatively unknown in Singapore to becoming a genre synonymous with popular music reveals how diverse and open Singapore’s entertainment scene is. This suggests that we, too, as Singaporeans, have a shot in making our own genre, and perhaps, in a decade, people would be starting to embrace a new and hip genre of music.

“SG Schedule,” X-Clusive, accessed on October 25, 2020, http://x-clusive.sg/sg-schedule/ Jocelyn Lee, “K-pop gig with a Bang,” The Straits Times, October 25, 2010, https://www.straitstimes.com/lifestyle/entertainment/k-pop-gig-with-a-bang. 15 Just ten years ago in 2010, it was mind-boggling for reporters that two K-pop groups of the same gender, number of members, and similar concepts could co-exist together. However, with the prominence of K-pop over the years, this mentality has since changed “For Muzik 4 Minute,” TODAY, February 4, 2010, http://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/newspapers/Digitised/ Article/today20100204-1.2.59.4.6; “SG Schedule,” X-Clusive, accessed on October 25, 2020, http://x-clusive.sg/sg-schedule/. 16 Juliana June Rasul, “K-pop boleh! *(*Malay for can)”, The New Paper, October 25, 2010. 17 Veronica Koh, “Flour power,” The Straits Times, June 27, 2010. 13 14

K-pop generations explained th 1st Generation:

The pioneers of K-pop in Singapore (early 2000s) Shinhwa

Boa

Super Junior

Girls Generation

2nd Generation:

Sources: Hellokpop, Vistaponte, Kpop. fandom, Amino Apps,Film Daily, Time, E Online, Kpop Profiles

The first batch of a large influx of groups entering the Singapore music scene (late 2000s/early 2010s)

hrough the lens of Singapore 3rd Generation:

The increased vibrancy of K-pop groups; groups of similar concepts widespread (mid-2010s)

BTS

Itzy

Twice

Stray Kids

4th Generation:

The ‘new’ groups that made their debut recently and brought new variations in K-pop’s image and music (late 2010s) 27

Retracing the Ancient Silk Road Cities of Uzbekistan Stanley Toh Jun Wei | stjw1998@gmail.com In this article, Stanley recounts the Uzbekistan leg of his travels through Central Asia. He goes in search of remnants of the Ancient Silk Road, but leaves having instead found companionship in friends who he realises are not so different after all – perhaps a result of the cultural exchanges of globalization that the Silk Road laid the foundation for ages ago. Less than a hundred meters away, the imposing Hotel Uzbekistan with its steel frames and concrete slabs, is a striking example of Sovietera brutalism reminiscent of the country’s more recent history under the Soviet Union. The feature of countless tales, books, and documentaries, I had come to Uzbekistan to see its famed Silk Road cities with my very own eyes.

The statue of Amir Timur

As I made my way to the centre of Amir Timur Square in Tashkent, I was confronted with a towering bronze sculpture of a bearded man on a reared horse. With his arm beckoning to the sky as if to signify his command over all, one would not be mistaken in assuming the significance of this particular Great Man of history. Indeed, this statue is dedicated to Amir Timur – also known as Tamerlane – one of history’s greatest military commanders and the founder of the Timurid Empire.1 However, with the monument situated in the modern city of Tashkent, it seemed to belie Uzbekistan’s rich medieval history. 28

Hotel Uzbekistan in Tashkent.

Saunders, John Joseph. The History of the Mongol Conquests. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001. 1

How did I end up on this journey in the first place? Having always enjoyed travelling and experiencing new cultures, and as I awaited the return to formal education after two years in the military, 20-year old me figured that I should make the most of my time before university. Hence, no sooner had I landed at Changi Airport, fresh from a month-long backpacking trip to Myanmar in the January of 2019, than I decided to embark on another journey. Drawn to the allure of the Silk Road and the remoteness of Central Asia, I booked a one-way ticket and, four months later, I was on an Uzbek Airways flight bound for the city of Tashkent. Mosaics on Soviet-era apartment buildings

Modern, clean, well-paved roads, these were not characteristics that I would have associated with Tashkent. The drive from the airport to the city centre took me past rows of Soviet-era apartments, adorned with mosaics of geometric patterns and elegant colours. Soviet brutalism and modernism further revealed itself in the architecture of the city as I explored on foot, walking past monolithic and concrete masses like the State Museum of History of Uzbekistan and Hotel Uzbekistan.

State Museum of History of Uzbekistan

But the slice of Tashkent that best represents the legacy of the Soviet Union is undoubtedly its sprawling metro system. First built in 1977, every metro is designed uniquely to reflect Uzbekistan’s history and culture.

Pakhtakor station with its mosaic Alisher Navoi station, named Kosmonavtlar station, where the of yellow and white cotton flowers, on a backdrop of green and blue, showcases Uzbekistan’s role as one of the world’s leading producers of cotton.2

after the great 15th century Uzbek poet, with its ornate light blue domes lining the ceilings resemble the mosques and madrasahs that are so prevalent in Uzbekistan’s Silk Road cities of antiquity.

Soviet Union’s greatest cosmonauts – like Valentina Tereshkova, the first woman in space – are imaginatively immortalized on the ceramic white, blue and black walls of the station. This was definitely my favourite station of the Tashkent Metro.3

A ride on the Tashkent metro was more than just a journey from point A to B. It was akin to entering a time machine that took me back to the old Soviet Union, producing a certain wistful, Soviet feeling further enhanced by the elderly population –remnants of the ex-Soviet republics themselves. While Tashkent gave me a glimpse of the old Soviet Union, the famed Silk Road was what I had come to see. With a heart full of hope, I soon departed for the city of Samarkand.

The Siab Bazaar in Samarkand

The Gur-e-Amir

Central Asia’s oldest continuously habited city – Samarkand – has seen the likes of conquerors such as Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan, but none would compare to Timur. Under the rule of Timur and his descendants, Samarkand was transformed into one of the centers of Islamic scholarly study of its day, drawing artisans, craftsmen and architects from across the empire. 4 As I walked past the azure blue domes of the Bibi Khanym Mosque and the traditional Islamic murqanas that decorate the Gur-e-Amir (the mausoleum where Amir Timur’s body lies today) and its interior, my eyes were treated to the beauty of medieval Islamic architecture of Timur’s day.

Statista. ““Leading cotton producing countries worldwide in 2019/2020.” Accessed November 1, 2020. https://www. statista.com/statistics/263055/cotton-production-worldwide-by-top-countries/. 3 Griswold, Robert L. “’Russian Blonde in Space’: Soviet Women in the American Imagination, 1950-1965.” Journal of Social History 45, no. 4 (2012): 881 – 907. 4 Mathur, Ashrani. “Travels in Uzbekistan.” India International Centre Quarterly 40, no. 1 (2013): 77 – 106. 2

Registan Square

Embodying one of the world’s greatest examples of medieval Islamic architecture, and arguably the most iconic place along the Silk Road is the Registan. This crown jewel of Samarkand dominates the covers of postcards, travel guides, and Google search images of the city. Standing at the centre of Registan Square, I was surrounded by three towering madrasahs about 50 meters in height. Under the evening sun, the madrasahs were bathed in a

golden hue, and with every step I took, I could not help but gaze in awe at the intricate patterns of turquoise and blue all around. I imagined Arabs, Mongols, Chinese, Indians, and Europeans hailing from across the Timurid Empire and beyond, trading and interacting in the very same public square I stood. I imagined the square alive.5 However, this vivid image of Samarkand’s golden history which I hoped to see, was nowhere to be found. In place of the traders, artists, and scholars who hailed from across the world, were tourists with their phones and camera busy capturing the grandeur of the complex. As I entered the courtyard of the madrasahs, the dormitory cells which was once the abode of Islamic scholars centuries ago, were now converted into souvenir shops selling all sorts of trinkets and gifts. Tourism, as I would soon come to realise in Bukhara and Khiva, was engulfing the Silk Road cities of Uzbekistan, just like any other part of the world. Samarkand is a beautiful city, but it is unmistakable that much of its historic sites have been rebuilt and polished, an inevitable process of tourism development and modernization.

Interior of one of the madrasahs in the square UNESCO. “Silk Roads Programme: Samarkand.” Accessed November 1, 2020. https://en.unesco.org/silkroad/ content/samarkand. 5

The streets of Bukhara

Waiting for a ride

Bukhara according to several travellers I met during my time in Uzbekistan happened to be their favourite Silk Road city in Uzbekistan. As I explored the historic old town after a train ride from Samarkand, I could see why. With hundreds of well-preserved madrasahs, caravanserais and mosques, Bukhara or Bokhoro-isharif (Noble Bukhara) as it was known, is the cultural and religious heart of Uzbekistan. Standing at the foot of the 12th century Kalyan Minaret, I could do nothing but admire the grandeur of the tower. No wonder that Genghis Khan, so impressed with the tower during his siege of Bukhara, spared its destruction while laying waste to everything else.6 The old city of Bukhara is without a doubt architecturally beautiful, memerising tourists at every corner and junction.

With Samarkand and Bukhara now visited, Khiva remained the last stop of the Silk Road cities in Uzbekistan. Feeling adventurous, and with time on my hands, I decided to try a new mode of travelling: hitch-hiking. I had made my way to the A380 highway on the outskirts of Bukhara, all that is left to do is to find my transport West to Khiva. Under the scorching Central Asian heat with my outstretched hand giving a thumbs-up sign, I hoped that any passing vehicle would be kind enough to offer a ride. I soon found myself in the passenger seat of a white cranky Soviet Lada accompanied by a fellow Uzbek man bound for the town of Gazli. While Gazli was hundreds of kilometres short of Khiva, I settled on Gazli as it was still in the right direction. Besides, how could I say no to a Soviet Lada?

However, the melancholy that developed in Samarkand followed me to Bukhara. The Silk Road charm that I had been yearning to see with my own eyes remained elusive. Bukhara’s historic buildings were converted to hotels, restaurants, and souvenir shops catering to busloads of tourists. Ironically, the extensive refurbishment of the old town with the aim of restoring its architectural integrity instead drained it of its Silk Road character. As I walked through a town with 2000 years of history, it felt more like an open museum, or funnily enough, the movie set of Tatooine in Star Wars. At perhaps the most disappointing point of my journey thus far, I made my first Uzbek friend, Ulugbek - named after the grandson of the legendary Timur, while making payment at a restaurant. Since our accommodation was in the same direction, and that he was interested in practicing his English, we walked back and made some small talk along the way.

Before he left, Ulugbek asked to exchange our contact numbers. “Let’s hang out when you are in Tashkent”, said Ulugbek with the limited English he knew as he typed out his number. I did not think much about this fateful encounter, but it would soon lead to one of the most heartwarming moments on my journey. 6

The Soviet Lada Stanley hitches a ride in.

Atlas Obscura. “Kalyan Minaret.” Accessed November 1, 2020. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/kalyan-minaret.

“Spasiba Bolshoi,” I thanked the Uzbek driver for the ride as he dropped me off at a roadside cafeteria in the town of Gazli. After a quick bowl of lagman (a dish comprised of noodles, meat, and vegetables), it was time to continue my hitch-hiking journey. However, this time round, countless cars and trailer trucks passed me by without ever stopping, and even if they did, they were not heading in the same direction. After more than half an hour of waiting, I started to wonder if I had made the right choice. But all hope was not lost as a blue trailer truck pulled up and – after confirming that they were indeed heading to Urgench (a town next to Khiva) – I found myself once again back on the journey to the West.

You can’t find these on Grabhitch.

“Khitai-ski?”, asked one of the Uzbek drivers. It was only after returning to Singapore, that I learnt that he was asking if I was ethnic Chinese. The word “Khitai” originates from the word “Khitan” – which is the name of the nomadic people who founded the Liao dynasty, and is still used today to refer to China in parts of Central Asia. With my limited Russian vocabulary of “Spasiba”, “Da”, “Niet”, and “Kharosho”, I tried my best to guess and answer whatever questions they were throwing at me. Understandably, they were curious in finding out more about the 20-year old stranger they had just invited onto their trailer truck.

For the next 6 hours, we would traverse across the vast Kyzylkum Desert, vibing to a CD mix of Turkish and Uzbek electronic and pop music, with Turkmenistan visible just across the Amu Darya River on the left. Gazing out at the golden-brown sand that stretched out endlessly to the horizon, I wonder how long and arduous of a journey Marco Polo or Genghis Khan had to make centuries before me.

By nightfall, I had arrived in Khiva, the city known for being the birthplace of famous Persian polymaths like Al-Biruni and Al-Khwarezmi – the founder of algebra and whose name gave rise to the term ‘algorithm’. Stepping foot into the old walled city of Itchan-Kala in search of the remaining vestiges of the Silk Road, I was again greeted by the many madrassahs, mosques and minarets. As the evening sun set over this desert town, and the last tourists of the day depart, the Uzbek babushkas (old women) set off to close their souvenir stalls lining the main street, keeping their postcards; ceramic magnets; and traditional Uzbek headgear. Strolling through the main street of Itchan-kala, my gaze was fixated on the turquoise blue Kalta minaret. As the Kalta Minaret’s colours faded away under the darkening sky, so did my hopes of finding the ‘real’ Silk Road. After one final day in Khiva soaking in as much of the surroundings as possible, I took a 15-hour sleeper train back to the city of Tashkent.

The streets of Khiva.

"Perhaps the Silk Road is not something to be seen and photographed, but an experience to be lived." About a week ago, I had departed Tashkent in search of the Silk Road with a heart full of hope. Instead, I returned with a heavy heart, lamenting the fact that cities like Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva were merely shells of their former selves, devoid of their Silk Road charm. With a day left before I crossed into Kyrgyzstan, I decided to reach out to Ulugbek whom I met in Bukhara. He readily agreed to hang out and in the late afternoon I met him at his university – the Tashkent University of Information Technologies. Ulugbek took me on a tour of the modest looking campus, proudly showing me around the computer labs, libraries and classrooms. We then paid a visit to his school dormitory, where I got to meet his friends and roommates. I guess a fair description of Ulugbek’s environment would be humble and modest. It is during such visits and experiences where I am reminded of how fortunate Singaporeans are compared to people living in other countries. “Do you know Lee Kuan Yew? We learn about him in school. How he killed the bad guys to make Singapore not corrupt,” said one of Ulugbek’s friends over dinner. I could not help but laugh at this imagined reality that he had of Singapore, though it did amaze me that the reputation of our tiny red dot had managed to reach even Uzbekistan. Throughout dinner, Ulugbek and his

friends caught up with one another and I found out that they all hailed from different regions of Uzbekistan and had travelled to Tashkent for university. Despite being worlds apart, I soon found that Ulugbek, his friends and I, are more similar than I thought. They too wore Adidas apparel, got excited about Marvel blockbusters, played games like Counter-Strike, and were even diehard football fans.

It was at this moment, that I realized my search for the ancient Silk Road has been misguided all along. The stories and the images of the Silk Road presented in our screens and literature depict a romanticized version of an all too distant past that does not exist anymore. Did I really expect to see scholars in their robes and traders with white turbans on their camels, populating the city centres of Samarkand, Bukhara, and Khiva?

Perhaps the Silk Road is not something to be seen and photographed, but an experience to be lived. From all the pilov, lagman, and shashlik I have eaten, to the hospitality of drivers who have allowed me to hitch a ride, guest house owners, and Ulugbek, in my search for the Silk Road, I have created my own version of the Silk Road journey.

Dinner in Tashkent. Stanley is seated in the back, on the left side of the table. Ulugbek is seated to his right, giving a thumbs-up.

Home No More: Is the 9,000-year nomadic legacy on the Tibetan Plains coming to an end? Yau Wai Ying | e0420538@u.nus.edu Cutting across China and the northern parts of Bhutan, India and Nepal, the Tibetan nomadic pastoral areas are considered one of the world’s most inhospitable locations. Inhabiting these areas are the Tibetan nomads, who have for thousands of years been surviving by raising animals and moving seasonally to different pastures as per their herds’ needs. It also remains as one of the last notable examples of relatively undisturbed rangeland ecosystems, providing refuge for endangered wildlife such as wild yaks, Tibetan antelopes and snow leopards.1 However, this system of unfettered movement has been increasingly threatened by China’s political and economic developments, with the Chinese government not only seeking to secure their borders by erecting fences across the grasslands, but also systematically constructing houses, enclosures, and barns in an effort to sedentarise the nomadic population.2 In light of such developments, this article hence aims to document the nomadic lifestyle and patterns of movement as they have been for thousands of years, and discuss how China’s intensifying and relentless pursuit for political control and economic growth increasingly spells the possibility of the end of the nomads’ unique migratory lifestyle and traditions in the near future.

Daniel J. Miller, “The World of Tibetan Nomads,” in Drokpa: Nomads of the Tibetan Plateau and Himalaya (Florida: Vajra Publications, 2008), 1 – 2. 1

The Origins of Nomadic Pastoralism Nomadic pastoralism originated about 9,000 years ago with the domestication of goats and sheep in the mountains of Southwest Asia before dispersing into Central Asia.3 Residing at altitudes of about 3,000 to 5,000 meters, the Tibetan nomads’ residence was able to provide extensive grazing land for livestock despite being too cold for crop cultivation, and could support an estimated 2 million nomads at any one time.4 Today, pastoral production practices are generally similar across different regions of the Tibetan Plateau, with most nomads raising the same kinds of animals: yaks, sheep, goats, horses and dogs. Livestock composition and sizes of the herds can, however, differ widely across the region owing to various rangeland factors, the suitability of landscape for different animals, the nomads’ skills, and their preferences and availability of labour.5 Daniel J. Miller, “Nomads of the Tibetan Plateau Rangelands in Western China. Part Three: Pastoral Development and Future Challenges,” Rangelands 21, no. 2 (1999): 17. 3 Daniel J. Miller, “Nomads of the Tibetan Plateau Rangelands in Western China. Part One: Pastoral History,” Rangelands 20, no. 6 (1998): 27. 4 Miller, “The World of Tibetan Nomads,” 1. 5 Daniel J. Miller, “Nomads of the Tibetan Plateau Rangelands in Western China Part Two: Pastoral Production Practices,” Rangelands 21, no. 1 (1999): 17 – 18. 2

Strategically, since different species graze off different plants, herding a range of livestock together allows for more effective use of rangeland vegetation than a single species. Moreover, different animals also have varied uses and provide diversified products for home consumption or sale.6 Yaks in particular have become an integral factor in the development of nomadic pastoralism on the Tibetan Plateau, used as draught animals and providing a variety of foods such as milk and milk products, meat, hair, wool and hide. Even their dung is used as a source of fuel when firewood is not available.7 In fact, Tibetans place so much value on yaks that the Tibetan term for yaks, nor, can be translated to ‘wealth’.8 Even prior to its domestication about 4,000 years ago, Tibetans had already ascribed mythic status to wild yaks. Hunting wild yaks was perceived as a symbol of bravery, and many of their pastoral rituals and religious festivals centre around the yak, such as yak dances and races.9 This ritualistic symbol of yaks continues to be maintained even after its domestication, with white or piebald yaks – also known as tse-yak (“life yaks”) – being left free to roam until they die of natural or predatory causes as an offering to the gods to atone for the sins of slaughtering animals and warding off ominous disasters.10

Meanwhile, livestock such as goats and sheep were solely reared for food and monetary benefits. Sheep meat is actually preferred, with many nomadic families in Western Tibet butchering up to 30 sheep and goats every year for consumption.11 A significant portion of the nomads’ income is also derived from sheep wool and goat cashmere, both of which are known for their superior quality, with the former ranking among the best carpet wools in the world.12 Horses and dogs on the other hand are raised for security reasons; the nomads do not milk or eat them. These animals play important roles in securing the parameters from cattle rustlers and robbers, and horses are also used for making environmental patrol rounds to guard against poachers, and for transportation.13 Horses reared in Eastern Tibet were also highly renowned among the Chinese, with a lively tea for horse trade developing during the Chinese Tang Dynasty.14 With such a heavy premium placed on livestock, mobility has become a central characteristic of Tibetan nomadic lifestyle so as to maintain animal productivity and optimal rangeland conditions. This movement is not random – rather, they are often highly regulated and strategic to take advantage of the climatic factors to make the best use of pastures in different seasons throughout the year.15

Tibetan nomads in Eastern Tibet. Source: Reurinkjan

Ibid, 18. Miller, “The World of Tibetan Nomads,” 8. 8 Miller, “Nomads of the Tibetan Plateau Rangelands in Western China Part Two,” 17. 9 Miller, “The World of Tibetan Nomads,” 7 – 8. 10 Rinzin Thargyal, and Toni Huber, Nomads of Eastern Tibet: Social Organisation and Economy of a Pastoral Estate in the Kingdom of Dege (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2007), 75. 11 Miller, “Nomads of the Tibetan Plateau Rangelands in Western China Part Two,” 18. 12 Miller, “The World of Tibetan Nomads,” 8. 13 Gillian G. Tan, Pastures of Change: Contemporary Adaptations and Transformations among Nomadic Pastoralists of Eastern Tibet (Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2018), 31, https://doi-org.libproxy1.nus.edu. sg/10.1007/978-3-319-76553-2. 14 Miller, “The World of Tibetan Nomads,” 10. 15 Ibid, 7 – 8. 6 7

A Year in the Life of Tibetan Nomads

Cutting yak hair in summer. 26

Summer Tibetan nomads usher in summer by herding their animals to higher pastures where fields are more bountiful. Summer is typically the most productive season for the animals, with peak supplies of milk being produced. Consequently, it is also the busiest time for nomadic pastoralists, who have to convert the milk into storable products such as butter and chura, a type of Tibetan cheese.16 Clothes are also generally washed during this period, and nomads may sometimes go to nearby hot springs to wash themselves.17

Making chura.27

Caterpillar fungus.28

Autumn

Winter

By autumn, most of the labour for animals would have been completed, and they start preparations for winter. Nomads might move their livestock to slightly lower altitudes, and even frequent the winter pasture area in preparation for the actual move.18 Chura that was made and dried will be stored in large leather bags, and any animals that are weak or infirmed will be slaughtered, with the meat dried and stored for the long winter months ahead. Female yaks are also checked for any signs of impregnation, and if found to be barren, nomads might attempt to assist the bulls by tying her horns to her forelegs to keep her in place.19

Winter marks a time for recuperation and semi-hibernation. The movement from autumn to winter pastures are often times slow and deliberate to maximally exploit available pastures along the way.20 As winters on most of the Tibetan Plateau are generally dry with light snow, animals are herded to various pasturage sites where they are able to graze all winter, such as in the valleys through which rivers flow which allows for lush pastures. 21 H o w e v e r, s e v e r e winter snowstorms do occur periodically that bury forage, and the accompanying low temperatures might place additional stress on the livestock, resulting in large numbers of livestock death. Animals that manage to survive through winter remain quite weak in early spring, and nomads will often witness relatively higher numbers of animal deaths during these 2 months.22 While this allows them to have more meat on the table, they have to turn to gathering caterpillar fungus as well to maintain their livelihood.23

Year in, year out, this continues to be the fixed cycle of movement for Tibetan nomads as they move with their animals from pasture to pasture. Unsurprisingly, nomadic lifestyle has adapted to the frequent and constant mobility. For example, nomads have learned to fashion highly functional tents made of yak hair that could be easily taken down and packed on yaks when moving camp.30 Different types of yak hair tents are also made to cater to the changing seasons: in winter, Tibetan nomads would use winter black tents made from the thicker undercoat fur of the yak called kulu, which were woven to a thicker pile to provide additional warmth. Warmer temperatures would warrant the use of summer black tents made from the yak’s coarse belly hair called ra instead. Should sections of the tent become old and frayed, they can also be easily replaceable with new strips of woven yak hair.31 However, while this practice has accompanied many generations of nomads, various sedentarisation policies introduced throughout China in the early 2000s come to increasingly threaten their identity and lifestyle.

A ra black tent in Kham.29

Spring Compared to the autumn-winter movement, the spring movement is even slower and pasture-conscious due to the weak animals and limited grass available. Households might even need to separate temporarily to facilitate movement and take weaker animals to nearby rivers and pastures because they are too weak to go on their own.24 Nonetheless, spring marks a season of stability for the Tibetan nomads as robbers and raiders would typically stay away since the animals would be too meagre to be eaten and weak to drive away. It is only in late spring when herds would become strong enough for the nomads to make the ascent back to the higher summer pasture area. During this time, nomads would often move together within their communities in order to protect themselves and their herds from raiders, especially since the area would become increasingly traversable by potential raiders or robbers as the cold starts to fade.25

Tan, Pastures of Change, 25. Ibid., 32. 18 Thargyal and Huber, Nomads of Eastern Tibet, 113 – 114. 19 Tan, Pastures of Change, 32. 20 Thargyal and Huber, Nomads of Eastern Tibet, 114. 16 17

The end of Nomadic Pastoralism in Tibet? Since China’s successful annexation of Tibet in 1951, sedentarisation has always been a part of their policy on the Tibetan grasslands. Such efforts have only intensified with the introduction of the “Opening the West” development strategy （西部大开发）launched in 1999, which saw the central government shift their focus from the coastal areas of Eastern China to the Western regions.32 A slew of policies soon followed in its wake, with major programmes targeted at the Tibetan nomads including the “Four Way Scheme” (四配套）in the 1990s, the “Rangeland to Grassland” policy （退牧还草）in 2003 and the “Nomadic Settlement” policy（游牧民定居）in 2009.33 All of these policies were structured to target two main issues identified by the central government: firstly, improve the degrading grassland ecosystem by reducing the number of domestic livestock, and secondly, enhance the socio-economic status of nomadic populations. Such claims are made on the perception that Tibetan nomads are ‘backward’ and hence practice inefficient methods of land and livestock management, which entirely disregards the nomads’ ecological knowledge and traditional management expertise underscoring their long history of survival.34 How then have these specific policies affected the livelihood and mobility of these nomads?

Ibid; Tan, Pastures of Change, 31 22 Miller, “Nomads of the Tibetan Plateau Rangelands in Western China Part One,” 26. 23 Tan, Pastures of Change, 31. 24 Thargyal and Huber, Nomads of Eastern Tibet, 114. 25 Ibid, 114 – 115. 26 Tan, Pastures of Change, 32. 27 Ryan Chang, and Joyce Siu, “The Dying Art of Making Tibetan Cheese,” filmed February 11, 2019 at Zekog County, Qinghai, China, video, 1:22, https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=7KpO7MGwqWg. 28 Kevin Frayer, Getty Images, accessed November 6, 2020. 29 Tan, Pastures of Change, 28. 30 Miller, “The World of Tibetan Nomads,” 10. 31 Ibid; Tan, Pastures of Change, 27. 32 Jarmila Ptackova, “Implementation of Resettlement Programmes Amongst Pastoralist Communities in Eastern Tibet,” in Pastoral practices in High Asia. Advances in Asian Human-Environmental Research, ed. Hermann Kreutzmann (Dordrecht: Springer), 217 – 218. 33 Ibid, 218. 34 Kenneth Bauer, “New Homes, New Lives – the Social and Economic Effects of Resettlement on Tibetan Nomads (Yushu Prefecture, Qinghai Province, PRC),” Nomadic Peoples 19, no. 2 (2015): 210, http://dx.doi.org.libproxy1.nus.edu. sg/10.3197/np.2015.190204.; J. Marc Foggin, “Depopulating the Tibetan Grasslands: National Policies and Perspectives for the Future of Tibetan Herders in Qinghai Province, China.” Mountain Research and Development 28, no. 1 (2008): 27, http://www.jstor.org/stable/25164178. 21

Four Way Scheme 四配套 (1990s)

A completed winter house, livestock shelter, fence (wall) and winter fodder, and a traditional tent in the foreground.35

First introduced in rural Qinghai with the intention of alleviating poverty among the nomads, the “four ways” detailed in this policy includes subsidising houses, livestock shelters, fences and growing additional fodder.36 They were aimed at increasing the over-winter survivability of livestock and thereby increase the overall rate of production. However, this also led to a decrease in seasonal mobility and flexibility in managing their livestock, forcibly putting an end to their ‘normal’ nomadic lifestyle and moving rapidly towards sedentarisation.37

Rangeland to Grassland policy 退牧还草 (2003) Unlike the Four Way Scheme, the primary intention of this policy is to move domestic livestock and herders away to restore the degraded grassland from overgrazing. Such environmental factors were justified to be of particular concern since the high plateau environment would have a downstream impact on the main Chinese river systems.38 This resulted in tens of thousands of families being asked to move off the grassland and adopt new livelihoods in farming or trade and live in new towns. Particularly affected were the nomads in Qinghai and Sanjiangyuan, where it had been projected that 61,899 herdsmen and 100,000 people were to be resettled in 2007 and 2010 respectively.39 The evacuated grasslands would then be completely fenced off and a grazing ban set down for 10 years, during which households had to reduce their livestock significantly and were provided with fodder and grain subsidies by the government.40 Though the government granted housing and subsidies to ease the nomads’ transition and daily expenses, these subsidies were often unable to even cover the costs of basic needs which rose exponentially after they gave up their livestock. Moreover, their relocation might not even be in the locality of their initial grassland, but instead to a different province within the same county, entirely severing their connection to the grassland and uprooting their socio-cultural customs and structures.41

Foggin, “Depopulating the Tibetan Grasslands,” 28 Ibid. 37 Ibid. 35 36

Nomadic Settlement policy 游牧民定居 (2009)

Longzang resettlement village in Ningxiu, Zeku County42

This latest addition builds upon the previous two policies to target both ecological restoration and improving the nomad’s socio-economic conditions. In addition to the structures promised in the “Four Way Scheme”, this policy also pledges to plant grass, establish irrigation systems, build roads and construct solar and methane gas energy facilities.44 Embedded within the contract to secure government housing is the condition that the government reserved the right to claim 50% of the household’s grassland to be held for restoration in exchange.45 This new policy hence delivers similar consequences as the prior policies in ending the 9,000-year-old practice of nomadic pastoralism. It should be noted that while the abovementioned policies have been discussed generally to provide an overview of the government’s actions towards the Tibetan nomads as a whole, the policies were not necessarily applied uniformly and may often be enforced in different regions at different times and with varying criteria. Nonetheless, the overarching goal of sedentarising the Tibetan nomads remains throughout. There is also more to these policies than meets the eye – underlying the official justifications lie the political agenda of the state, which, as former Chinese President Hu Jintao had remarked, “Rapid economic development is the fundamental condition for realising the interests of all ethnic groups in Tibet and also the basic guarantee for greater ethnic unity and continued stability”.46 The nomads’ relocation is hence of symbolic value to the state, used to gauge their level of integration into the Chinese society, and of the regions’ modern development.47 While relocation to urban centres would provide the nomads with greater access to healthcare, education and trading routes, these policies also carry with them a whole host of social issues when executed in reality including unemployment, inequality and poor standards of living as they struggle to adjust to the shift from a nomadic subsistence lifestyle to a consumerist society.48 Far from being self-sufficient, they are instead heavily dependent on state provisions which are oftentimes also lacklustre, with provided housing often lacking in sanitation and running water and government subsidies barely able to help make ends meet.49

Resettlement houses of ‘New Happiness Village’ in Yushu Prefecture, Qinghai Province.43

Conclusion Despite having inhabited the Tibetan Plateau for thousands of years, the past few decades have seen Tibetan nomads being uprooted and turned out from the only home and lifestyle they have ever known. As subsequent generations are raised away from the fields, their children also become increasingly detached from their pastoral roots and ecological knowledge.50 Considering that the Chinese government have previously been successful in ‘modernising’ the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region by stamping out their prior traditions of nomadic pastoralism, it seems that the Tibetan nomads’ thousands-year legacy of nomadic pastoralism will also eventually meet the same fate.51 Will this legacy continue marching on, or will it only be a matter of time before the Chinese government puts their journey to an end?

Jarmila Ptackova, “Sedentarisation of Tibetan Nomads in China: Implementation of the Nomadic Settlement Project in the Tibetan Amdo Area; Qinghai and Sichuan Provinces,” Pastoralism: Research, Policy and Practice 1, no. 1 (2011): 3, http://dx.doi.org.libproxy1.nus.edu.sg/10.1186/20417136-1-4. 41 Ibid. 42 Ptackova, “Implementation of Resettlement Programmes,” 229. 43 Bauer, “New Homes, New Lives”, 215. 44 Ibid, 4. 45 Ibid, 7. 46 Susette Cooke, “Merging Tibetan Culture into the Chinese Economic Fast Lane: The Great Western Development policy should increase immigration from inner China to the Tibet Autonomous Region,” China Perspectives 50 (December 2003): 4, https://doi.org/10.4000/chinaperspectives.775. 47 Bauer, “New Homes, New Lives,” 210. 48 Sodnamkyid, and Emilia Roza Sulek, “’Everything Costs Money’: Livelihood and Economics in ‘New Resettled Village’ of Sogrima, Golok (Qinghai Province),” Nomadic Peoples 21, no. 1 (2017): 141, http://dx.doi.org.libproxy1.nus.edu. sg/10.3197/np.2017.210107. 49 Foggin, “Depopulating the Tibetan Grasslands,” 29. 50 Bauer, “New Homes, New Lives,” 215 – 216. 51 Cooke, “Merging Tibetan Culture,” 11. 40

Ptackova, “Implementation of Resettlement Programmes,” 220. 39 Foggin, “Depopulating the Tibetan Grasslands,” 29. 38

Chinese Marriage Law to Emancipation Wong Jia Yi | e0420356@u.nus.edu The development of marriage in China was not a linear one as it underwent several major legal developments in the 20th century. Unlike Qing China, where marriage laws were especially oppressive towards women, there had been greater attempts to establish a more gender-egalitarian marriage tradition after the New Culture Movement in the late 1910s and the rule of the CCP (1949). In particular, the influence of Marxism, as well as Mao’s personal agenda-both political and economic- were important driving forces that led to marriage laws being more liberal compared to the pre-revolutionary era, where marriages were dictated by Confucianist tradition and used for social mobility. This essay tracks the journey of Chinese women’s marriages via their rights from a legal perspective, mainly from the Qing period to the early-Maoist period. Late-Qing Period (Late 1800s - 1912) and Oppressed Women Rights Marriages under this period were characterized by a “contractual” relationship between families as “the search for eligibles” were driven by “family needs and values”. 1 Often, considerations of socio-economic status determined marriages and only partners who matched the family in terms of social standing would be chosen.2 This was known as “Mendang hudui” (门当户对).3 Parents had a monopoly of rights in pre-determining the spouse of their children and the male and female parties were unable to exercise any form of freedom in spousal selection.4 Women were also seen as passive entities who were subjugated to men whereas men held ultimate power in the household.5 Such a disparity was the result of the long-standing Confucianist tradition, which permitted, and even encouraged gender hierarchy to penetrate all aspects of society. Resultantly, the confucianist ideology shaped Qing legal frameworks, where statuses served to enforce hierarchy in marital affairs rather than protect the specific rights of both sexes. The Republic (1927-1949) and the Gradual Move Towards Greater Gender Equality After the 1911-1912 Revolution that ended the Qing Dynasty, China became a state divided by competing powers and interests. Subsequently, the trajectory of marriage laws was richly influenced by many factors, such as the New Culture Movement, the rule of the CCP and predominantly, Mao Zedong’s personal thoughts. John W. Engel, “Marriage in the People’s Republic of China: Analysis of a New Law,” Journal of Marriage and the Family 46, no. 4 (1984): 955, https://doi. org/10.2307/352547. 1

New Culture Movement (1910s - 1920s) and the Propagation of Liberal Ideals The New Culture Movement was the period of cultural renaissance for the Chinese, where the ideas of traditionality and culture were held up for critical scrutiny. Confucianist ideas reinforcing gender inequality were debunked, replaced by the guiding principles of western ideals such as liberalism, science, equality and pragmatism. The tenet of this event was family reform, where the idea of Xiaojiating (conjugal family) was promoted. At the core of the household stood couples who married for love and earned their own income. 6 This movement provided the impetus for liberal ideals to take root, though they did not supersede Soviet influence and the Marxist theory in becoming the main driving forces behind modern China’s liberal marriage laws.7 As an outcome of the New Culture Movement, the conception of gender hierarchy was abolished, and “equality of all citizens before the law” was pursued.8

Yang Hu, “Marriage of Matching Doors: Marital Sorting on Parental Background in China,” Demographic Research 35 (August 31, 2016): 557–80, https://doi. org/10.4054/demres.2016.35.20. 3 Chun Shan, “Marriage Law and Confucian Ethics in the Qing Dynasty,” Frontiers of Law in China 8, no. 4 (2013): 823-824. 4 Ibid., 821. 5 Philip Huang, “Women’s Choices under the Law: Marriage, Divorce, and Illicit Sex in the Qing and the Republic,” Modern China 27, no. 1 (2001): 3–58. http:// www.jstor.org.libproxy1.nus.edu.sg/stable/3181363. 6 Ibid., 44. 7 Yuan Yuan, “The Origins of the Chinese Communist Party’s Early Marriage Laws,” Senior Projects (Spring 2017): 223, https://digitalcommons.bard.edu/senproj_ s2017/223. 8 Huang, Women’s Choices under the Law: Marriage, Divorce, and Illicit Sex in the Qing and the Republic, 28. 2

ws and Women’s Road 1931 Marriage Regulations and 1934 Marriage Laws- Women’s Political and Economic Role Much as the NCM was an important development for more liberal ideals in modern China, the more important driving forces towards a more gender egalitarian society was Mao’s personal agenda. Highly influenced by Marxism, the liberation of women was ideal for the CCP, specifically because of the benefits that they could bring. The first was that of economic benefit. Mao believed that women constituted a valuable reserve of labour as their physicality could be tapped upon for an increase in economic production. Mao had consistently maintained this stance, where he argued that until China could sustain or increase her production through mechanization, “labour-intensive” methods were ideal. Women could thus fill in the positions and remedy the problem of labour-shortage.9 However, given the long tradition of women domesticity and the favour of some Chinese leaders towards the Soviet-based model that advocated for the homely confinement of women, Mao understood the difficulty of convincing other party leaders and the public about the importance of women and their economic potential if the oppressive marriage laws remained.10 Thus, he proposed to attack the marriage system in China, which were the patriarchal chains restricting women’s freedom and limited their economic capacity to contribute to the country. The modification of marriage forms, he argued, could increase the possibility of tearing down the long-standing laws and practices on women oppression, leading to their greater economic contribution and resulting better economic performance.

From the political aspect, the CCP believed women had an essential and ‘revolutionary’ role, where the latter’s support was paramount for the successful implementation of policies. Furthermore, the party’s reasoning mechanism behind women’s role was that when women were liberated from the “shackles of arranged marriages”, they would reveal their “latent revolutionary strength” by expressing their gratitude to the CCP through a selfless and self-sacrificial fight against the revolutionary cause.11 Their new allegiances would redirect their attention and energy, thereby constructing a new power dynamic between them and the CCP, thus reshaping or accentuating women’s status to become a political apparatus that the CCP could leverage on amidst its political fallout with the GMD. Women, and their politicised role, were thus an important motivating factor for the CCP to roll out its gender-equalising policies, since the former could increase the latter’s political support and legitimacy, thereby accelerating its path to power. Hence, it was apparent that by the 1920s, the view towards women had shifted largely from their mere objectification to that of political and economic importance, at least on the part of the CCP.

Shelah Gilbert Leader, “The Emancipation of Chinese Women,” World Politics 26, no. 1 (1973): 55-79. Accessed October 27, 2020. doi:10.2307/2009917. 10 Ibid.,59. 11 Ibid., 58. 9

The practical essentiality of women’s rights and freedom, came to materialize principally in the 1931 and 1934 laws. In the rural areas such as Jiangxi Soviet, the CCP promulgated gender equality through the freedom of marriage, abolition of purchased brides and divorce under specific terms in the 1930s. These intended to “mobilize young men and women and bring women into work outside the household”.12 For instance, in the 1931 law, CCP actively recruited women and gave them huge responsibilities for leading peasant movements. This served to topple the age-old traditional practice of male dominance in state affairs, while affirming women of their political rights and capacity. Such a move to recruit women was well-received by them, to the extent where some women were not satisfied with their politically-tainted cultural roles of spreading “cultural propaganda” through drama troupes, and “agitated to join the Red Army. By late 1933, the local Red Guard militia mostly consisted of women, with 120 women and 46 men.14 However, despite an outpouring of good intentions from CCP’s laws and measures, they were not well-received by the male parties and their families. Peasant men and their mothers condemned the divorce policy so much so that it was dehorted by the local cadres later on.15 The 1934 Marriage Law was generally similar to the 1931 provision, with the main spirit rooted in the liberation of women- setting up a “love-based conjugal marriage” and paving the way for equality of men and women.16 However, different from the 1931 law, the dynamics for the privileges of women had changed. More duties were imposed upon them while many of the freedoms were retracted. For instance, Article 15 declared that men were only obligated to support women and tilled the land for them when women lacked the capacity to do so.17 In the event of destitution of such capacity, men would not be required to help women.18 Similar to what was argued above, these accorded duties, were to mobilize women to “support the revolutionary cause”.19

1950 First Chinese Marriage Law, Great Success in the Liberation of Women and Their Economic Role After the end of the civil war, CCP’s victory saw a rearrangement of his agendas, with his political agenda taking a relative backseat and the economic one coming to the forefront. It was then a matter of bettering the devastated economy that had suffered the detriments of astronomical inflation and unemployment rates, rather than desiring to secure Mao’s political prestige or political power against the GMD. As a strong subscriber to the Marxist brand of socialism, Mao remained firmly rooted in the belief of women’s economic role and their contributions to the country. He once said, “Women hold up the other half of heaven,” signifying his view on women’s paramount importance and capabilities.20 The 1950 marriage law therefore formed a direct assault on Confucian practices and dynastic Chinese culture, which were the perceived causes that justified the oppression of women. In comparison to the 1930s’ laws, the 1950 law was considered to be the most successful marriage law for two reasons. First, CCP’s newfound control of the country allowed it to conduct a nationwide enforcement of the law, thereby allowing the discourse and practice of gender equality to penetrate the whole country.21 Second, the articles left no room for ambiguity in its fight for gender-equality. They were also more detailed and comprehensive in terms of the set of circumstances ascribed, thus negating many situational loopholes that the previous two laws failed to cover. With regard to the issue of rights and duties between a couple under the new law, husbands and wives shared equal rights in the management and inheritance of property.22 Abuse, together with the belittling of women, would invoke harsh sanctions against men. In fact, the party dealt with discrimination against females so severely that parallels were drawn to “foreign imperialism” were such acts to be committed.23 Thus, it could be seen that the greatest liberation of women came under the 1950 law, compared to the previous two.

Gail Hershatter, Women in China’s Long Twentieth Century (The Regents of the University of California, 2007), 16. 13 Gail hershatter, Women and China’s Revolutions ( Lanham, MD, United States: Rowman & Littlefield, 2018), 171. 14 Ibid.,171. 15 Hershatter, Women in China’s Long Twentieth Century ,16. 16 Ibid.,2. 17 Ibid.,34. 18 Ibid., 34. 19 Ibid.,1. 20 Gregory Freitag, “MAO A FEMINIST?” International Journal of Current Chinese Studies, no. 1 (2010): 159–67, https://doi.org/http://www.estudioschinos.com/ revista/fulltext/20100109.pdf. 12

Women’s response to Mao’s policies were supportive. A case in point would be Qiao Yindi’s story. After the CCP’s takeover of the country, Qiao spent most of her time hoeing the fields with men, an activity less seen in the past due to women’s domestically-confined role.24 This increased physical participation reflected her support for the regime, especially Mao’s policies like rural collectivization. Qiao’s example was an important one as it reflected how many women in her era made use of their increased rights, from suppressed physicality, to toil harder as a show of support for Mao’s policies and his ideology of favouring women’s role in the state.

In sum, the journey of marriage is a long one, and an especially tortuous one if the inferior party was made to suffer in the course of the marriage. The different set of laws listed above have all pointed towards the central problem of socially-constructed women inferiority, which shaped their accompanying treatment and circumstances in the late Qing period. It was such oppressive conditions under the Qing laws that created the opportunities for progressive ideals to take root, under movements like the New Culture Movement, and the influence of Marxism on Mao’s ideology. For Mao, gender equality were tools to advance his political and economic interests, both during its political conflict with GMD in the 1930s, and after the civil war, in the initial stage of its ruling years (in the context of this essay). Nevertheless, he successfully espoused women’s value through their economic and political potential through the laws, in turn ascending their status in the family and the state. Overall, women’s marriage journey in modern Chinese history has seen increased equality.

Mao, a Feminist? The cognizance of women’s role in the state, led Mao to write at length about this topic in publications like Ta Kung Pao, where he shared his personal views about the role of women, their rights and marriage before the implementation of the 1930s laws. In his articles, he provided three aspects that could break the status quo of marriages. The first was to break out of the deep-seated traditionalist belief structure that marriage was preordained by fate.25 He argued that this would destabilize the orthodox practice of predetermined marriages, thereby giving way to more liberal marital unions.26 The second was to dispel parental power which granted parents the right to make marriage arrangements on behalf of their children. 27 Mao strongly believed in the sacred nature of love and naturally, he felt this demanded its independence from parental will.28 Accordingly, there should be no coercion or materialistic considerations involved in partner-selection. The third was to stop granting prestige to matchmakers.29 In China, while it seemed that parents held arbitrary power over spousal selection, Mao deemed parents as only having the capacity to ‘host’ the partner-choosing event. The ultimate decision-making power laid in the hands of the matchmaker as they could talk families into forging successful marriages. Thus, Mao’s works, reflected to some extent, the conditions he thought to be imperative for marriage reforms and greater women’s rights. Deng, Yuan. “Conservatism within Women’s Revolutions: The CCP’s Marriage Reforms and Women’s Movements.” (Master’s thesis.,University of Toledo, 2017), 12, https://etd.ohiolink.edu/!etd.send_file?accession=toledo1493224796269504&disposition=inline 22 Ibid, 13. 23 McIvor, Women and Marriage in China, 13. 24 Gail Hershatter, The Gender of Memory: Rural Women and China’s Collective Past (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2014), 129. 25 Liu Chunyan 刘春艳, “Lun Mao Zedong yu woguo hunyin zhidu gaige” 论毛泽东与我国婚姻制度改革 [Discussion of Mao Zedong’s Thought and China’s Marriage Law Reforms], Bridge of the Century, 世纪桥, (2015). https://www.ixueshu.com/document/814a23b6b51168d42d3fe50309648304318947a18e7f9386.html. 26 Ibid, 17. 27 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 29 Ibid. 21

Freedom of marriage, happiness and good luck, 1953

The Jacaranda Tree Burma Lois Kok Yu Qin | lois_kok_yu_qin@u.nus.edu

Written in elegant prose and filled with rich, colourful imagery, The Jacaranda Tree by H.E. Bates is an engaging work of historical fiction. Set in colonial Burma, at the beginning of the Japanese Occupation, it depicts the journey of a small British community (led by a rice mill manager named Paterson), Paterson’s two Burmese servants (a young Burmese boy and his older sister Nadia – who is Paterson’s mistress), and one biracial (Anglo-Burmese) nurse, Allison, as they drive across Upper Burma, fleeing for the Burma-India border in 2 cars. Bates had been an official war writer for the British during World War II. Posted to Burma and India in 1945, this experience, and his interactions with soldiers and refugees from the war, inspired him to write The Jacaranda Tree. The title refers to the jacaranda tree which takes pride of place in Paterson’s bungalow. I found this rather intriguing, as Bates never explained if there was a deeper significance to the jacaranda tree. Upon scrolling through Goodreads, I found one user who pointed out that jacaranda trees were not native to Burma, but were introduced during British rule. Though the jacaranda tree is not mentioned often in the novel, its description is memorably vivid:

“The tender flowers of the jacaranda tree, blue as hyacinths, still more bud than flower, made the only colour against the white dust that came right up to the steps of the verandah like a stretch of deserted shore…”

Paterson’s jacaranda tree only appears in the first chapter of the novel, providing a striking contrast of colour and life against the forlorn description of an empty “deserted shore”, before the British’s departure from their small town. Beyond Paterson, another character who admires the jacaranda tree and its vibrant colours, is the young Burmese boy, Tuesday, who, at the beginning of the novel, tries reaching up to touch the flowers of the jacaranda tree (though he had not grown tall enough to do so). Bates never explicitly explained the significance of the jacaranda tree in the novel. Given its association with Paterson and Tuesday, as Paterson, Tuesday and Nadia survive their journey and cross into the relative safety of India, I personally believe that the jacaranda tree foreshadows this hopeful ending for Paterson, Tuesday and Nadia.

However, the character who truly resonated with me was Allison, the Anglo-Burmese nurse who accompanies the small British community and the two Burmese servants on their journey across Burma. In my opinion, most of the other characters reflect common colonial archetypes, and do not change much 44

over the course of the novel: Paterson himself, though remaining mostly likeable because of his evident sympathy and concern for the Burmese (especially Nadia), was a somewhat bland character made to fit in the paternalistic role of efficient British colonial official. Among the main cast, Allison is the only biracial (half-caste) character: in the turmoil of war, it is Allison who struggles most with her sense of identity, and undergoes a significant personal journey over the course of the novel. Allison was scorned by some of the British characters for being non-European, but her English heritage and formal education also set her apart from the Burmese. While on the journey across Burma, Allison remains conflicted as to whether she should leave Burma for the relative safety of India, or stay behind in Burma, where her skills as a nurse could be crucial in saving lives:

“She was troubled by whether she had any part in this journey, by whether she ought to stay behind with the people to whom she only half-belonged, or whether she ought to go on with the English to whom she wanted to belong…”

Throughout the novel, Allison struggles to reconcile her English and Burmese heritage, especially when the Japanese invasion forces her to make a decision as to whether she wants to stay in Burma, given that she has never really felt a strong sense of belonging to her country. As may be seen from the above quote, Allison does – even if somewhat unconsciously – believe in European superiority, with her desire to be English. However, during the journey, she undergoes a personal journey as well, becoming more comfortable in her own skin, using the skills she learnt at the hospital to look after others, from her companions on the trip when they fall ill, to other refugees and villagers they encounter along their journey. Eventually, she decides to remain in a small camp near the border to care for the villagers there, given the lack of medical facilities in the area. I felt that Allison’s choice to stay in Burma, when she could have easily crossed the border into safety, was an admirable one that reflected her personal growth. Overall, by focusing on the journey of this small group of characters, The Jacaranda Tree presents an interesting view of colonial Burma prior to the Japanese Occupation. Those who enjoy contemporary historical fiction, such as George Orwell’s Burmese Days should give this a read!

e: A Journey Across

THE MOTORCYCLE DIARIES Nicholas Lam Wei Xiang | NicholasLamWeiXiang@u.nus.edu

“This is not a story of heroic feats,” so begins The Motorcycle Diaries, written by Che Guevara, the Marxist guerrilla leader best known for his involvement in the Cuban Revolution. And indeed, it is not. This book introduces us to Che before he became Che – a time when he was just Ernesto Guevara, a bright-eyed medical student with a keen sense of adventure and dreams of furthering the boundaries of medical science – and captures the transformative journey that triggers a political awakening within.

The Motorcycle Diaries documents Che Guevara’s nine-month journey through Latin America with his long-time friend Alberto Granado. In 1951, the two set off across the continent atop Alberto’s motorcycle, La Poderosa II (The Mighty One).

The trip allows both men to appreciate the true beauty of Latin America – scaling the Andes, cruising down the Amazon River on a raft, and bearing witness to the “pure expression of the most powerful indigenous race in the Americas”, Machu Picchu. The journey has many light-hearted moments of Alberto and Ernesto kidding around, stealing wine, and having fun – allowing us to see a lighter side of Ernesto before his image was intertwined with the concepts of revolution and class struggle. The Motorcycle Diaries, Ernesto “Che” Guevara1

“This is not a story of heroic feats.”

But the trip has its moments of frustration, sadness, and both mechanical and emotional breakdowns – poignant moments of growing up, and formative experiences that impacted Guevara’s thinking and growth as a social being. Along the way, Guevara witnesses the remnants of Spanish empires, exploitation of laborers by the U.S. mining conglomerates, the compassion of patients within a leper colony, and the oppression faced by communists. As he learns of the pains of others he becomes increasingly a social being. These sights marked both Guevara’s physical journey – but also a transformative political awakening – a revolution within himself. The Motorcycle Diaries capture moments in which we can detect Guevara’s commitment to improving his country – the beginnings of a revolutionary. By the end of the book we meet a new Guevara – we meet Che, who has now traded in his medical pursuits for political ones in his quest to cure the social sickness of South America that has addled many of his countrymen. The diary couples Ernesto’s observational canvassing of the Latin American countryside with his contemplations and reflections – recording his deepest motivations and political transformations, humanizing the man we are most used to seeing as the symbol of the revolution. It provides a new dimension to our conventional understanding of revolution as an inherently violent process by capturing Che’s values – love, justice, and a deep drive to do better for his countrymen.

I count The Motorcycle Diaries as one of my favourite books – it combines notions of Catcher in the Rye’s loss of innocence and frustrations about the realities of the world with Jupiter’s Travels’ exciting vignettes of travel and the spirit of wanderlust. It was very effective in representing that special time in a young man’s life where he tries to find his place in the world – and how he finds it in a place so different from where his life seemed to be headed towards. I felt it was very apt to review this book for this issue of Mnemozine because of the physical and individual journeys documented in Diaries. Perhaps there is something to be said about the value of getting in touch with the world around us – the environment, people, and culture – in order to find out not what the world has to offer us, but what we can offer to the world.

No matter where you stand on his politics, The Motorcycle Diaries, equal parts travel book, memoir, and coming-of-age story, has something to offer for all readers. It is perfect for the traveller whose insatiable wanderlust has been denied by the current travel restrictions, the curious historian who wishes to know more about Che’s origins, or the casual reader who wishes to see Latin America on the back of La Poderosa II through the eyes of two young men on a journey that would change them, before they changed the world. GoodReads. “The Motorcycle Diaries.“ Accessed October 29, 2020. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/172732. The_Motorcycle_Diaries. 1

'Walk, Run, Cha-Cha' by Laura Nix Tan Ler Nie | lernie.tan@u.nus.edu 48

Produced in 2019, ‘Walk, Run, Cha-Cha’ is a 20-minute documentary by Academy Award nominee Laura Nix that tells the tale of Vietnamese couple Paul and Millie Cao’s rediscovery of their love story on the dance floor. In a New York Times opinion piece with the same title, Nix stated that instead of taking the well-trodden paths of many previous films in focusing on refugees who had just entered the US, her aim in producing this documentary was to accurately depict the lives of refugees who have settled down in the US for many years. Although not explicitly mentioned, it seems that Nix’s work, which shows how refugees can achieve better lives in the US than in their home countries, is a statement against the Trump administration’s current anti-immigration policy. While Nix’s effort in providing a new perspective into the lives of refugees is commendable, ‘Walk, Run, Cha-Cha’ disappointingly simplifies or ignores nuances in the Cao’s story and in other narratives of the Vietnam War in exchange for the accomplishment of Nix’s aforementioned agenda.

Nix chose to use music and dance as the main thread tying Paul and Millie’s lives together. The documentary starts with a scene of Paul and Millie taking dance lessons at a nightclub and ends with them performing professionally, in sequined outfits and glitzy make-up. Throughout the video, Nix’s script reminds viewers that dance and Western music are at the core of Paul and Millie’s story. Her script tells of how the couple met through slow dancing at Paul’s illegal birthday party in Vietnam. It also tells of how they and their refugee friends’ common appreciation for Western pop by celebrated artists like the Bee Gees and the Carpenters helped them to reconnect and rekindle friendships with one another. On the surface, it seems that the documentary is merely a love story of two people who fall back on ballroom dancing as a way of ‘rediscovering’ their love for each other. However, underlying this seemingly simple tale of two lovers is Nix’s is the romanticising of the US as a promising refuge for the displaced. The last scene of the documentary features the couple dancing to ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’ by the Carpenters. The song speaks of a couple “sharing horizons that are new to [them]” and “find[ing] a place where there’s room to grow”. Although this “place” is not explicitly mentioned, the documentary does hint that this utopia is the US. Just prior to this dance scene, Paul alludes to the fact that life in Vietnam was hard and that they were deprived of “the luxury to enjoy life”. Yet, a life in the US has brought hope to them and gave them the opportunity to “make up for the lost time”. While I do not seek to deny or minimise the hardships they may have faced in Vietnam, it is rather uncanny that Paul and Millie’s lives seem to fit so well into the US’ narrative of being a safe haven for refugees like them. Furthermore, there is no mention in the documentary of the US’ involvement in the Vietnam War or the crimes they had perpetrated against the people there. Could it be that after having lived in the US for so long, Paul and Millie’s lens of their own past has been influenced and tainted and by the narrative of the US and Nix’s agenda?

Although the documentary’s caption, “after a lifetime of struggle and perseverance, they are rediscovering themselves on the dance floor”, promises much, it ultimately disappoints. Very little is said about this “struggle and perseverance” apart from Paul’s brief mention of how the communists had threatened to take away his family’s business and possessions, how the couple spent six years apart, and then later felt disconnect when they met again for the first time. Furthermore, the idea of “rediscovery” is very vague. As a curious media consumer, I am left puzzled about what they needed to rediscover about each other after having spent 40 years together or why this process of rediscovery did not take place sooner when Millie first arrived in the US. I wonder if the ambiguity is intentional so that other refugees might be able to relate to Paul and Millie’s story and find similar purpose in their new lives in the US or so that Americans can insert their own definition of rediscovery into the story, and possibly protest against current US refugee policy. If that is the case, the potential richness of Paul and Millie’s story is compromised to accommodate a wider refugee-triumph-over-hardship-in-the-US story. The vagueness of details in the documentary could potentially promote a sweeping view of the experiences of the Vietnamese, whether refugee or not. It seems that Paul and Millie could have been from South Vietnam because of their exposure to Western culture even while still in Vietnam and that Paul’s family was in the business line. In addition, the documentary seems to imply that Paul and Millie are ethnic Vietnamese, but they are actually Cantonese. In the video, when interacting with family and close friends, Paul and Millie speak Cantonese rather than Vietnamese. This detail is completely left out and a general American audience might not be able to tell the difference in the language spoken. It is possible that Paul, Millie and their families were a minority group in Vietnam rather than the majority. On top of that, the duo are quite highly educated – Paul is an engineer while Millie is an auditor. Their experiences as being middle class or even upper class in Vietnam would have been unusual rather than the norm. All these omitted details suggest that Paul and Millie’s “struggle and perseverance” could be very different from and not reflective of the stories of the common Vietnamese experience, much less the experiences of the pro-communist Vietnamese. For an audience that may not be aware of the different life experiences among the population of North and South Vietnam, including more background and qualifiers would be more responsible to avoid making sweeping generalisations of a single Vietnamese experience. Overall, the documentary is a simple love story that celebrates Western culture and the US’ romanticised history as a beacon of hope for refugees in the pre-Trump era. While it was lovely to get to know Paul and Millie, it would have been more helpful if their backgrounds were further specified for nuanced understanding of the various experiences of people living in Vietnam, fleeing Vietnam, or adapting to life in the US.

FUKUSHIMA 50: A JOURNEY OF HOPE. Chan Qiu Qing | e0325970@u.nus.edu

奇跡は起きると信じたからこ: Because I believed that miracles would happen.

In a clash of nature and machinery, nature won.

Fukushima 50 is a tale of perseverance, bureaucracy, nature and mankind. It is also a disaster movie about the 2011 nuclear disaster at Japan’s Fukushima No. 1 Power Plant. But beyond all that, it is a story of hope and the journey that the Fukushima 50 took to arrive at salvation.

The film itself is based off Ryosho’s Kadota’s On the Brink: The Inside Story of Fukushima Daiichi, which in turn compiled hundreds of interviews from those involved. Think Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO) employees, SDF personnel, politicians, journalists, researchers, and evacuees; it is no wonder that the film struggles to capture all of that in just 122 minutes.

Nevertheless, the film does it best to retell the story of the 2011 incident at the Fukushima No. 1 Nuclear Power Plant, presenting the audience with a tale about mankind, our relentless exploitation of nature, and the sheer unimaginable force of nature’s retaliation. 50

The story begins with a portrait of the everyday: gentle waves, cawing seagulls, and a light smattering of snow. But before you can stop to appreciate the scenery, tectonic plates shift deep within the sea, revealing Nature’s terrifying destructive power in the forms of a massive earthquake and giant waves. TEPCO’s employees have obviously been paying attention to their earthquake drills, because none of them panic when the earth literally starts shaking beneath their feet. Instead, they grab their helmets, take readings, and wait for the emergency power to come on. Shift supervisor Toshio Izaki (played by Koichi Sato) leads his team at the central control room to take safety precautions and quickly resume their daily work. On the other side, site superintendent Masao Yoshida (played by Ken Watanabe) gathers the power plant’s upper management in the Seismic Isolation Block (SIB). All seems well. But the crises are yet to come: the tsunami is the first of many, and Izaki and Yoshida are naturally the poor souls who have to deal with the consequent crises.

Yet what’s impressive is the sheer perseverance that Izaki, Yoshida and their teams demonstrate in the face of hopeless scenarios. They’re perpetually forced to make tough choices because everything is broken: the power supply is down, so the reactors can’t be cooled, the monitoring systems don’t work, and no one knows what’s going on in the deep recesses of the reactor. Even when they manage to think of possible solutions, these are typically completely untested ones or incredibly hard to implement.

Loyalty and self-sacrifice – two values commonly attributed to the Japanese – make themselves known here. Izaki knows he must send investigative teams into the reactor to check, and despite some initial resistance, most of his team volunteers to go despite the risk of being exposed to insanely high levels of radioactivity. Some break down in tears upon returning without having completed all their tasks, even though they would have died if they had stayed longer than 10 minutes. Their genuine desire to sacrifice is reminiscent of war movies.

Yoshida fights a different war with the TEPCO upper management in Tokyo; no one wants to take responsibility for the disaster, or authorise Yoshida to test innovative solutions, and consequently no decisions get made. Yoshida’s frustration and anger at these irresponsible bureaucrats is immense, but there is not much he can do other than yelling at them. In this aspect, he is far from the usual bureaucrat: the movie depicts him as a caring man who genuinely wants the best for his employees, and his desire to minimize the damage leads him to command Izaki to pump seawater to cool down the reactor, completely disregarding TEPCO’s instructions and thus jeopardizing his entire career. Fukushima 50 is ostensibly a tribute to the heroes who stayed behind in the power plant during the 2011 Fukushima incident. But the themes that emerge in this movie are much more complex than that: Izaki’s ending monologue carries a sense of gratitude to

bountiful Nature, even while he remains painfully aware of its destructive abilities.

Similarly, the Fukushima 50 may be venerated as heroes in the movie’s ending (three months after the disaster), but in reality they have only suffered for their role in the incident. Despite their efforts in pulling off a miracle of unprecedented proportions, many members of the Japanese public are actively hostile as they view the Fukushima 50 as members of TEPCO, i.e. the betrayer of public trust which assured Japan that nuclear power was safe. Beyond that, many of the the Fukushima 50 illogically blame themselves for not having “fixed” the problem earlier, leading to psychological stress and depression.

Do miracles exist? We don’t know - and no one knows if the Fukushima 50 did what they did because they believed in a miracle. But if miracles do happen, that means there is hope that the Fukushima 50 will receive their personal miracles and be freed from the painful aftermath, which they continue to endure today. One can only hope that the movie’s deliberate distinction between the everyday worker and the bureaucratic higher-ups at TEPCO will go some way towards helping the plight of the real-life Fukushima 50. Who were the Fukushima 50?

Fukushima 50 is in itself a misnomer. Western media popularised the use of “Fukushima 50” as a term to describe the workers that remained at the nuclear power plant, despite the imminent risk of death and radiation sickness. However, as shown in the movie, members of the Self-Defence Force (SDF) and other workers showed up to help and stayed till the end - calling the team Fukushima 50 casually neglects the passion and determination these people exhibited.

MNEMOZI

NE’18

JOURNEYS

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