Fieldnotes From History (59)—Provincial Elections-t

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Fieldnotes From History."

One year ago on Round and Square (24 July 2011)—Hurtin' Country: Holding On to Nothing But the Wheel

[a] En masse RF

Click below for other fieldnotes dealing with Taiwan's 1985 provincial elections:

Election 1         Election 2          Election 3          Election 4          Election 5          Election 6
Election 7         Election 8          Election 9          Election 10        Election 11        Election 12
Election 13       Election 14        Election 15        Election 16        Election 17        Election 18

Part of an occasional Round and Square series that follows the blog’s main theme (east meets west, round meets square, and past meets present), these snippets from my early fieldnotes are reproduced as they were written by hand—and then revised on an ancient desktop computer—during my first fieldwork stay in Taiwan (1985-1987).  All entries are the way that I left them when I returned to the United States in 1987—some nicely-stated and some embarrassing. Although the series began with my assumption that the entries can stand alone, I have found that separate comments and notes might help readers understand a world that is now, well, history. These are always separate from the original fieldnote.

The next several dozen entries in this series represent my memories—in the form of fieldnotes that were already well on their way to being letters—of Taiwan's provincial elections in November 1985. I had taken down what I call "jottings" at the time, and "now," two months later, I was ready to get a little bit more detail down in the form of fieldnotes. If you are somewhat unfamiliar with the five-stage process that framed my work habits even back then, it might be worth a quick look at the introduction to this series. Suffice to say here that in Taiwan in 1985 I was working from "jottings" to "fieldnotes" most of the time. Every month or so, I would write a letter that made it all into a more sustained narrative. Even early on, I realized how powerfully the knowledge that I would be writing letters influenced my fieldnotes. You may see it, too. It has remained my method to this day.

[b] Home fires RF

Like many fieldnotes, these were "written up" (a term I dislike, but am occasionally willing to use) after the fact. I wonder if most students of anthropology know how common this is. The implications for research, eye-witness authenticity, and historiography are numerous. It is a reality that has never gone away for field researchers of all kinds, though, and I suspect that it never will. 

Comment 

This last comment, since this is where I finished on the afternoon of February 16, 1986, is a bit sarcastic. It has some of the better anthropological firepower at work (even now I am a sucker for "agnatic" and "affinal"), and hits a key point about cutting the influence of ethnic Taiwanese. This was a strategy that the Guomindang employed from the moment it arrived on the island, and was effective (depending on whom one asked back then) in diminishing "traditional" influence in island politics. 

Still, the last few sentences drip with a blend of sarcasm and contempt. These are only fieldnotes, after all, so my concern was not about "final draft" quality. Still, I attribute most of my tone to the kind of adrenaline one gets when working too long and almost being done. Many of us have experienced this in term papers, late-night e-mail correspondence, or company reports. A certain Mary Tyler Moore went through a similar adrenaline rush when writing Wee Willie Williams's obituary back in the 1970s.*
*You'll get what you need in the first seven minutes of the link.

The lesson? Edit the next morning. Mary didn't, and neither did I.

Notes 

[c] Meandering RF

[1] "Agnatic" kinship is reckoned through the father's family. "Affinal" refers to marriage relationships that provide the social glue for local politics in China. In China (and this holds for Taiwan), affinal ties provide networks among different villages.

[2] As a political strategy, this Guomindang gerrymandering shows that (unlike many other occupiers) they understood how marriage, politics, and culture fit together in this particular social order.

16 February 1986 

Taipei 
So elections in Taiwan are local and the issues debated severely limited. Higher offices are not negotiable; they are entirely based upon appointments from the Guomindang’s ruling clique. Even local elections have been tightly controlled. During the first wave of elections in Taiwan during the late 1950s, the government drew election boundaries through the heart of most traditional political units. This “cultural gerrymandering” severely weakened the influence of traditional village leaders and village-wide factions in the countryside. The changes reduced political affiliation based on agnatic ties or cross-village affinal relations. Thus the “energies of the people” are channeled in a way that leaves the ultimate decisions—economic, military, and governmental decisions—solely in the hands of those benevolent old men capable of running the country through the force of their virtue. 

[d] Harmony RF

Fieldnotes From History (58)—Provincial Elections-s

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Fieldnotes From History."

One year ago on Round and Square (23 July 2011)—Longevity Mountain: Summer Wanderings

[a] Glimpse RF

Click below for other fieldnotes dealing with Taiwan's 1985 provincial elections:

Election 1         Election 2          Election 3          Election 4          Election 5          Election 6
Election 7         Election 8          Election 9          Election 10        Election 11        Election 12
Election 13       Election 14        Election 15        Election 16        Election 17        Election 18
Election 19       Election 20

Part of an occasional Round and Square series that follows the blog’s main theme (east meets west, round meets square, and past meets present), these snippets from my early fieldnotes are reproduced as they were written by hand—and then revised on an ancient desktop computer—during my first fieldwork stay in Taiwan (1985-1987).  All entries are the way that I left them when I returned to the United States in 1987—some nicely-stated and some embarrassing. Although the series began with my assumption that the entries can stand alone, I have found that separate comments and notes might help readers understand a world that is now, well, history. These are always separate from the original fieldnote.

The next several dozen entries in this series represent my memories—in the form of fieldnotes that were already well on their way to being letters—of Taiwan's provincial elections in November 1985. I had taken down what I call "jottings" at the time, and "now," two months later, I was ready to get a little bit more detail down in the form of fieldnotes. If you are somewhat unfamiliar with the five-stage process that framed my work habits even back then, it might be worth a quick look at the introduction to this series. Suffice to say here that in Taiwan in 1985 I was working from "jottings" to "fieldnotes" most of the time. Every month or so, I would write a letter that made it all into a more sustained narrative. Even early on, I realized how powerfully the knowledge that I would be writing letters influenced my fieldnotes. You may see it, too. It has remained my method to this day.

[b] Sustained RF

Like many fieldnotes, these were "written up" (a term I dislike, but am occasionally willing to use) after the fact. I wonder if most students of anthropology know how common this is. The implications for research, eye-witness authenticity, and historiography are numerous. It is a reality that has never gone away for field researchers of all kinds, though, and I suspect that it never will. 

Comment 

Again, I wince at the conflation of "Confucian" and "traditional Chinese" here. Almost three decades ago it was easy for me to think of these terms as unproblematic. Today, I would try to express such ideas with a little more nuance. Here is one of the ways I would express that nuance: while it is absolutely true that patience with criticism was never the strong suit of Chinese imperial governments or most Chinese political thinkers, there is an exception. The concept of remonstrance (諫), which I have now studied for twenty years, addresses some of the weaknesses that traditional "Confucian" thought has with regard to critique. This is not to say that it provides for anything like a sustained engagement between government policy and opposed perspectives. It should be part of the larger discussion of politics in the Chinese tradition, though.

The goals of prosperity and harmony should prick the ears of any readers familiar with China today. The verb "to harmonize" has been used to withering effect by critics of this very perspective on government. And even though I think that the next-to-last sentence in the first paragraph of the fieldnote is a bit overstated, there can be little doubt that the step toward organized, competing factions (parties) was different in kind from most approaches to statecraft in Chinese history. Just look at the thirty-plus provinces on the other side of the Strait of Taiwan.

[c] Open RF

The most interesting thing about these sentences for me is the reference to "emotional ties." I don't remember when I thought of that, but I suspect that it came out of discussions I was having with a classmate from Carleton who was at that time doing fieldwork for her dissertation on the emotional life of the Welsh. Our letters, back and forth, deepened my perspectives on these matters, and I think it is fair to say even today that emotional passion and politics strike many people in the Chinese speaking world as unseemly. This is precisely why some people in and beyond China still speak with derision of Taiwan's (the ROC's) move toward direct elections at all levels. The televised fights in parliament and city hall give as much fuel to those on the side of "benevolence and strength" as the messiness of participation does to people arguing for a more open process.

Notes 

[1] The Republic of China still saw itself in 1985 as a bulwark against Communism. Although the intensity of the "Free China" rhetoric had diminished in other parts of the world, anti-Communism was alive in Taiwan when I was there. That is why I make the specific mention to the Guomindang goal of abolishing Communism in this note. Positives such as prosperity and harmony were fine, but the rooting out of dangerous ideology (as Guomindang leaders saw it) was just as important. This is a new twist on a centuries-old political argument.

16 February 1986
Taipei
Confucian political philosophy does not especially concern itself with minority interests and equal representation. It also has little patience with criticism of government policy. From Confucius onward, the Chinese view of the relation between ruler and ruled was based upon the view that the ruler represented a moral force intent upon attaining a single goal: establishing a prosperous and harmonious society. To prosperity and harmony, Taiwan’s Guomindang elite would add the abolition of Communism. Still, the very idea of competing interests with vastly different views at all levels of government is antithetical to Confucian political philosophy. When push comes to shove, the masses defer to their leaders.

Traditional Chinese political philosophy stresses that the relationship between a leader and follower should not be based upon emotional ties—the kind of ties all too easily created by an electoral process. Confucianism has no time for demagogues. Taiwan’s Guomindang elite fears demagogues—from separatists to Communists—and they fear the role elections may have in encouraging them. This is the crux of the problem behind the plan to open the energies of the island's people, and one of the main reasons why the party is wary of the process. 

[d] Wary RF

Fieldnotes From History (57)—Provincial Elections-r

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Fieldnotes From History."

One year ago on Round and Square (22 July 2011)—Longevity Mountain: Table of Contents

[a] Rocky RF

Click below for other fieldnotes dealing with Taiwan's 1985 provincial elections:

Election 1         Election 2          Election 3          Election 4          Election 5          Election 6
Election 7         Election 8          Election 9          Election 10        Election 11        Election 12
Election 13       Election 14        Election 15        Election 16        Election 17        Election 18
Election 19       Election 20

Part of an occasional Round and Square series that follows the blog’s main theme (east meets west, round meets square, and past meets present), these snippets from my early fieldnotes are reproduced as they were written by hand—and then revised on an ancient desktop computer—during my first fieldwork stay in Taiwan (1985-1987).  All entries are the way that I left them when I returned to the United States in 1987—some nicely-stated and some embarrassing. Although the series began with my assumption that the entries can stand alone, I have found that separate comments and notes might help readers understand a world that is now, well, history. These are always separate from the original fieldnote.

The next several dozen entries in this series represent my memories—in the form of fieldnotes that were already well on their way to being letters—of Taiwan's provincial elections in November 1985. I had taken down what I call "jottings" at the time, and "now," two months later, I was ready to get a little bit more detail down in the form of fieldnotes. If you are somewhat unfamiliar with the five-stage process that framed my work habits even back then, it might be worth a quick look at the introduction to this series. Suffice to say here that in Taiwan in 1985 I was working from "jottings" to "fieldnotes" most of the time. Every month or so, I would write a letter that made it all into a more sustained narrative. Even early on, I realized how powerfully the knowledge that I would be writing letters influenced my fieldnotes. You may see it, too. It has remained my method to this day.

[b] Disputation RF

Like many fieldnotes, these were "written up" (a term I dislike, but am occasionally willing to use) after the fact. I wonder if most students of anthropology know how common this is. The implications for research, eye-witness authenticity, and historiography are numerous. It is a reality that has never gone away for field researchers of all kinds, though, and I suspect that it never will. 

Comment 

I am a little uneasy with the simplistic rendering here of the term "Confucian." As I have stated elsewhere in this series, I was much "faster and looser" with such characterizations back in the day. Still, my overall point about the Guomindang leadership's self image comes through clearly; they saw themselves as strong, benevolent, and productive. What struck me most powerfully when I lived in Taiwan in the mid-1980s was the "tone" of that governmental rhetoric. I was trying to capture it here—a combination of compassion and "knowing better" that was at least somewhat at odds with the electoral process. Again, this is not unusual in political discourse, and a quick study of historical examples (or international relations today) should provide sufficient examples.

That the Guomindang leadership saw a need to open the process back then...well, this still surprises me, and the fact that I did not see it coming is clear enough in these fieldnotes. For me, the linkage to a long philosophical tradition was also important. The quotations from Confucius's Analects summed up what I saw as the "studied privilege" (I mean that in several ways) perspective of the Guomindang leadership. One had to work at it, and stay good at it. This wasn't a perspective that merely rubber-stamped existing privilege. No, it was something thought to be earned through careful attention to the arts of rulership. The second quotation makes that abundantly clear.

Yet, in the end, this same process—throughout Chinese history—created a group (I hesitate to say "class") of people who were quite taken with their abilities and successes. In time, they sought to perpetuate it. Does that sound familiar today? Just read the papers, all over the world.

[c] Outlet RF

Notes 

[1] The "still point of the turning world" reference is from T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets. I still think that it sums up the ruling philosophy in early Chinese philosophy as well as anything. Let me add that Eliot was not referring to China, unless he had somehow channeled some knowledge from Ezra Pound in over the decades.

[2] In some ways, I would take exception to my third sentence. There was the language of competing political philosophies, especially as what we call the Spring and Autumn period (771-403 BCE) gave way to the Warring States period (403-221 BCE).* This latter period is the backdrop for one of the most interesting books in Chinese studies in the last thirty years—A.C. Graham's Disputers of the Tao. This was contended—and often contentious—discourse. My overall point in the note, however, still holds. The Guomindang leadership in 1985 was extremely suspicious of competition, even as it planned to open the process further, and this can clearly be seen in some of the government newspaper editorials in my previous fieldnotes about provincial elections. 
*I have my reasons for using these dates, not the least because the partition of Jin in 403 BCE was the most important event of the period. My professional opinion.

16 February 1986

Taipei

It is not easy to resolve democratic and Confucian values. Like the imperial leadership of the Chinese dynasties, Taiwan’s Guomindang leadership sees its role as the guidance of the masses and, ultimately, the country toward a more perfect society. This is not the language of competing parties. Underlying Confucian rhetoric is the assumption that some people are better positioned to lead than others. In their virtue, their scholarship, and their moral rectitude they show distinctive capabilities for leading the country. 

The Analects state the matter clearly. Rulers—the still point of the turning world—guide the ruled through sagacity and force of virtue. The government’s political vision must be accepted by a unified populace and instituted by enlightened scholar-officials. Two closely connected passages in the Analects succinctly state both the privileges and responsibilities of leaders. If all works well, society prospers.
 

          The Master said, He who rules by moral force is like the pole star, which 
          remains in its place while all the lesser stars do homage to it 
                                                                             —Analects II,i

          The Master said, Govern the people by regulations, keep order among 
          them by chastisements, and they will flee from you. Govern them by moral 
          force, keep order among them by ritual and they will keep their self respect 
          and come to you of their own accord 
                                                                             —Analects II,iii

[d] Bridged RF

Fieldnotes From History (56)—Provincial Elections-q

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Fieldnotes From History."

One year ago on Round and Square (21 July 2011)—Longevity Mountain: Introduction

[a] National RF

Click below for other fieldnotes dealing with Taiwan's 1985 provincial elections:

Election 1         Election 2          Election 3          Election 4          Election 5          Election 6
Election 7         Election 8          Election 9          Election 10        Election 11        Election 12
Election 13       Election 14        Election 15        Election 16        Election 17        Election 18

Part of an occasional Round and Square series that follows the blog’s main theme (east meets west, round meets square, and past meets present), these snippets from my early fieldnotes are reproduced as they were written by hand—and then revised on an ancient desktop computer—during my first fieldwork stay in Taiwan (1985-1987).  All entries are the way that I left them when I returned to the United States in 1987—some nicely-stated and some embarrassing. Although the series began with my assumption that the entries can stand alone, I have found that separate comments and notes might help readers understand a world that is now, well, history. These are always separate from the original fieldnote.

The next several dozen entries in this series represent my memories—in the form of fieldnotes that were already well on their way to being letters—of Taiwan's provincial elections in November 1985. I had taken down what I call "jottings" at the time, and "now," two months later, I was ready to get a little bit more detail down in the form of fieldnotes. If you are somewhat unfamiliar with the five-stage process that framed my work habits even back then, it might be worth a quick look at the introduction to this series. Suffice to say here that in Taiwan in 1985 I was working from "jottings" to "fieldnotes" most of the time. Every month or so, I would write a letter that made it all into a more sustained narrative. Even early on, I realized how powerfully the knowledge that I would be writing letters influenced my fieldnotes. You may see it, too. It has remained my method to this day.

[b] Figures RF

Like many fieldnotes, these were "written up" (a term I dislike, but am occasionally willing to use) after the fact. I wonder if most students of anthropology know how common this is. The implications for research, eye-witness authenticity, and historiography are numerous. It is a reality that has never gone away for field researchers of all kinds, though, and I suspect that it never will. 

Comment 

This one is important. Let's just say that the challenge of political participation in Chinese history has a fascinating and fragmented legacy. From Confucius to Mao Zedong, "the people" have figured in Chinese political theory, and so has their participation in "politics" under heaven (天下). This Chinese phrase refers in elegant ways to what a Westerner might call "the whole world."

The vast majority of thinkers (not to mention rulers) thought of "the people" as a problem to be solved...or coddled or assuaged. Many of the memorials quoted in the book I have studied for thirty years, the Comprehensive Mirror, speak of the necessity of reassuring the people so they don't boil over like bubbling broth. In other words, this is a key question, and one that (here I go again) I think anthropologists should study just as readily as do political scientists and historians. To be sure, many do (good job, Marissa Smith '08!), but we need even more.

And this is the other reason why some of these notes seem sort of "academic." My training has been in history and anthropology from almost the first day of college, and it has never wavered. In a nutshell, I am interested in political culture, and that is a topic that has multiple dimensions.

[c] Social (trust me) RF

Notes 

[1] Winckler nailed it here, I think. This "liberation of energy" and "channeling into public affairs" is key to understanding the motives—and the plan—of Guomindang leaders in the mid-1980s. As we will see in the next few notes, this is central to understanding what a millennia-old strategy in new, democratic robes.

16 February 1986 

Taipei 
“The national elite would like democracy to liberate the energies of the people,” writes Edwin Winckler, a Harvard political scientist studying Taiwan. [It wishes to] “channel them into public affairs, and discipline them into the orderly pursuit of a unified general will.”  This appears to be Confucian political philosophy with a modern, somewhat democratic twist. Political participation has always been an issue in China. It simply has rarely been cast in terms of all the people.

In theory, Taiwan’s elite—the upper echelons of the Guomindang—see elections as a way to bring the talents of the most able and conscientious citizens to the aid of government. Like the selection of scholar-officials in imperial times, democracy should provide the country with a vast storehouse of talent, to use, as Professor Winckler puts it, “in the orderly pursuit of a general, unified will.”  This phrase combines the rhetoric of Confucianism with that of modern democracy, and therein lies its problem. Therein, too, lies the challenge for Taiwan’s political elite. 

[d] Fishing votes RF

Fieldnotes From History (55)—Provincial Elections-p

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Fieldnotes From History."

One year ago on Round and Square (20 July 2011)—Seinfeld Ethnography: Motor Oil

[a] Provincial Center RF

Click below for other fieldnotes dealing with Taiwan's 1985 provincial elections:

Election 1         Election 2          Election 3          Election 4          Election 5          Election 6
Election 7         Election 8          Election 9          Election 10        Election 11        Election 12
Election 13       Election 14        Election 15        Election 16        Election 17        Election 18

Part of an occasional Round and Square series that follows the blog’s main theme (east meets west, round meets square, and past meets present), these snippets from my early fieldnotes are reproduced as they were written by hand—and then revised on an ancient desktop computer—during my first fieldwork stay in Taiwan (1985-1987).  All entries are the way that I left them when I returned to the United States in 1987—some nicely-stated and some embarrassing. Although the series began with my assumption that the entries can stand alone, I have found that separate comments and notes might help readers understand a world that is now, well, history. These are always separate from the original fieldnote.

The next several dozen entries in this series represent my memories—in the form of fieldnotes that were already well on their way to being letters—of Taiwan's provincial elections in November 1985. I had taken down what I call "jottings" at the time, and "now," two months later, I was ready to get a little bit more detail down in the form of fieldnotes. If you are somewhat unfamiliar with the five-stage process that framed my work habits even back then, it might be worth a quick look at the introduction to this series. Suffice to say here that in Taiwan in 1985 I was working from "jottings" to "fieldnotes" most of the time. Every month or so, I would write a letter that made it all into a more sustained narrative. Even early on, I realized how powerfully the knowledge that I would be writing letters influenced my fieldnotes. You may see it, too. It has remained my method to this day.

[b] Direct RF

Like many fieldnotes, these were "written up" (a term I dislike, but am occasionally willing to use) after the fact. I wonder if most students of anthropology know how common this is. The implications for research, eye-witness authenticity, and historiography are numerous. It is a reality that has never gone away for field researchers of all kinds, though, and I suspect that it never will. 

Comment 

I'll stick with the point here, even though (I'll keep this brief) I would now prefer elegant little details about daily campaigning to these broad matters. Broad or not, they are important, though. To this day we hear people from Vladimir Putin to Jackie Chan saying something along the lines of "our people cannot handle democracy." This is the kind of truism—and that is surely one of the things we engage in our work—that should be studied by anthropologists. It is meme-like in its persistence, and is worthy of careful reflection.

What I regarded back then as a throwaway observation can be thought-through from new perspectives today. Maybe crappy old notes are more useful than even I thought.  

Notes 

[1] The Nationalists did, indeed, have a plan, and it is covered in several of the notes in this series. The fact that it led to direct elections within a decade (despite the chaos to which Jackie Chan refers) is significant.

[c] Participation RF

[2] The century of near-total autocracy on Taiwan since 1895 (almost exactly 100 years before the first direct presidential elections) must not be forgotten. The Japanese, followed by Jiang's (Chiang Kai-shek's) Nationalists, did not have serious opposition, making the eventual "opening" quite interesting for the observer interested in political culture. Internal pressures, while relevant, were nowhere close to what other states had encountered in the 1970s and 1980s. The "opening" is somewhat curious in that sense (and one can think to another state, across the Strait of Taiwan, that must be thinking about plans). In short, these questions remain relevant. 

16 February 1986 

Taipei
Taiwan’s local elections have a reputation for being corrupt—permeated by graft, vote buying, and even gangland violence. Many people have noted that countries such as China and the Soviet Union, with centuries of imperial rule behind them, cannot adjust as easily to democratic practices as countries without the burden of autocracy. This has a kind of surface appeal that ultimately cannot hold up to scrutiny. No society is inherently democratic. A more significant matter is the relationship between past practice and leaders' visions of political power for the future. 

Here, the Guomindang has a plan, and the biggest question is whether or not it can hold to it. It is true that in Asia, democracy is a system of government that has historically come from the outside, but it must be instituted from within. Japan has adjusted quite well to its form of democracy, as have India and others. For me, the greater issue remains the limited and peculiar forms of political participation found on the island. This has historical dimensions (occupation in some form or another for hundreds of years) as well as ethnic ones, and it is hard to see how electoral politics on Taiwan can avoid struggles over Taiwanese and mainland ethnicity.

[d] Overview RF

Fieldnotes From History (54)—Provincial Elections-o

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Fieldnotes From History."

One year ago on Round and Square (19 July 2011)—Middles: Imaginative Ethnography in Utopia

[a] Transition RF

Click below for other fieldnotes dealing with Taiwan's 1985 provincial elections:

Election 1         Election 2          Election 3          Election 4          Election 5          Election 6
Election 7         Election 8          Election 9          Election 10        Election 11        Election 12
Election 13       Election 14        Election 15        Election 16        Election 17        Election 18
Part of an occasional Round and Square series that follows the blog’s main theme (east meets west, round meets square, and past meets present), these snippets from my early fieldnotes are reproduced as they were written by hand—and then revised on an ancient desktop computer—during my first fieldwork stay in Taiwan (1985-1987).  All entries are the way that I left them when I returned to the United States in 1987—some nicely-stated and some embarrassing. Although the series began with my assumption that the entries can stand alone, I have found that separate comments and notes might help readers understand a world that is now, well, history. These are always separate from the original fieldnote.

The next several dozen entries in this series represent my memories—in the form of fieldnotes that were already well on their way to being letters—of Taiwan's provincial elections in November 1985. I had taken down what I call "jottings" at the time, and "now," two months later, I was ready to get a little bit more detail down in the form of fieldnotes. If you are somewhat unfamiliar with the five-stage process that framed my work habits even back then, it might be worth a quick look at the introduction to this series. Suffice to say here that in Taiwan in 1985 I was working from "jottings" to "fieldnotes" most of the time. Every month or so, I would write a letter that made it all into a more sustained narrative. Even early on, I realized how powerfully the knowledge that I would be writing letters influenced my fieldnotes. You may see it, too. It has remained my method to this day.

[b] Forward RF

Like many fieldnotes, these were "written up" (a term I dislike, but am occasionally willing to use) after the fact. I wonder if most students of anthropology know how common this is. The implications for research, eye-witness authenticity, and historiography are numerous. It is a reality that has never gone away for field researchers of all kinds, though, and I suspect that it never will. 

Comment 

Moving right along, I'll just say that this and the surrounding notes have too much "background" and not enough new stuff. I'm pretty critical as I read it. And yet... And yet, there is that little snippet that is relevant to what I am doing now, twenty-five years later. I have been thinking about ethnicity in Asia in some depth for the last year or so, and some snippets in the first paragraph have gotten me to thinking about access (controlled and otherwise) to power. The Nationalists were in a position that, in terms of structural relations, was hardly unknown in world history. They were a minority of the population, but with enormous resources. Sound familiar? How does that dynamic play out on a small island, and in terms of electoral politics. The point is that even dull notes can get us thinking. And, alas, this is a pretty dull note. 

Notes 
[1] Japan held Taiwan since the end of the Sino-Japanese War in 1895 until its surrender in 1945 after World War II. The Japanese occupation remained a point of contention in my conversations with people, even then.

[c] Palatial RF

[2] Nationalists with ancestry in Taiwan did make their way up the political system through the 1980s and 1990s. Indeed, the first democratically-elected president of the Republic of China, Lee Teng-hui, was Taiwanese and worked his way through the Guomindang rank. 

16 February 1986 

Taipei 

The reasons the Guomindang has not abandoned elections altogether, are varied, but two stand out. Since the ruling elite consists almost exclusively of outsiders (who, like the Japanese, have ruled for forty years), local elections allow native Taiwanese to hold moderately responsible positions at the city and provincial levels. While it is a long way from the inner circles of the Guomindang, local elections have provided some access to the political system, and have snuffed out more than a few internal political brushfires.

More importantly, because the Republic of China is diplomatically isolated in the world, with only a handful of middle eastern and South American countries recognizing it, it Taiwan needs to maintain what little it has left of its standing as a free, democratic alternative to the Chinese communist party on the mainland. This is, in fact, one of the few reasons why the rest of the world paid attention to the Republic of China at all. In the 1950s—before Taiwan’s economic success helped create more lasting economic ties to the world—the political support of the United States was crucial to its security. Almost thirty years ago, the first, fledgling, local elections were instituted partly to please the Eisenhower administration.

[d] Linkage RF

Fieldnotes From History (53)—Provincial Elections-n

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square series "Fieldnotes From History."

One year ago on Round and Square (18 July 2011)—Le Tour de la France: Reaching France

[a] Selection RF

Click below for other fieldnotes dealing with Taiwan's 1985 provincial elections:

Election 1         Election 2          Election 3          Election 4          Election 5          Election 6
Election 7         Election 8          Election 9          Election 10        Election 11        Election 12
Election 13       Election 14        Election 15        Election 16        Election 17        Election 18

Part of an occasional Round and Square series that follows the blog’s main theme (east meets west, round meets square, and past meets present), these snippets from my early fieldnotes are reproduced as they were written by hand—and then revised on an ancient desktop computer—during my first fieldwork stay in Taiwan (1985-1987).  All entries are the way that I left them when I returned to the United States in 1987—some nicely-stated and some embarrassing. Although the series began with my assumption that the entries can stand alone, I have found that separate comments and notes might help readers understand a world that is now, well, history. These are always separate from the original fieldnote.

The next several dozen entries in this series represent my memories—in the form of fieldnotes that were already well on their way to being letters—of Taiwan's provincial elections in November 1985. I had taken down what I call "jottings" at the time, and "now," two months later, I was ready to get a little bit more detail down in the form of fieldnotes. If you are somewhat unfamiliar with the five-stage process that framed my work habits even back then, it might be worth a quick look at the introduction to this series. Suffice to say here that in Taiwan in 1985 I was working from "jottings" to "fieldnotes" most of the time. Every month or so, I would write a letter that made it all into a more sustained narrative. Even early on, I realized how powerfully the knowledge that I would be writing letters influenced my fieldnotes. You may see it, too. It has remained my method to this day.

[b] Competition RF

Like many fieldnotes, these were "written up" (a term I dislike, but am occasionally willing to use) after the fact. I wonder if most students of anthropology know how common this is. The implications for research, eye-witness authenticity, and historiography are numerous. It is a reality that has never gone away for field researchers of all kinds, though, and I suspect that it never will. 

Comment 

Indirect. That is the key word for this little moment in a flurry of fieldnote writing on the afternoon of February 16, 1986. There is more background here, as I discussed in yesterday's commentary. And even though there is nothing particularly deep about my insights here, I find this note strangely useful in understanding a great deal of political life all over the planet.

My regret? I wish that I would have pursued that idea more aggressively back in 1986. In other words, a deeper pursuit of what it means for a one-party state to move toward (in)direct representation, even while keeping a close and sometimes nervous watch on it, is as relevant to political culture all over the world today as it was in the mid-1980s. On the other hand, that is precisely the role fieldnotes should play. They are not merely informational. If they "work" (and I would argue that almost all of them do...if they are written in the first place), they can inspire thinking months, years, and even decades later.

[c] Meat-n-greet RF

And don't tell me that this is "political science." No, a careful reflection on indirect selection and one-party states should be as much the territory of anthropology as political science or any other discipline. Don't be surprised if you see a Round and Square series in the future called "Political Culture." You know I'm serious.

Notes 

[1] The Philippines were the biggest news of 1986. I was riveted, as were many others, by the unfolding drama of the Marcos legacy and its fall. The elections to which I referred were carefully controlled ones before the advent of the Aquino government.

[2] The fascinating little hint in the second sentence is what I wish I had pursued in great—and even exhaustive—detail. Another regret. What is it to have a population outwardly accept a government's political legitimacy? It is a question that more anthropologists need to consider. IR and political science have their very significant roles, but this is the very stuff of anthropology, if you ask me.

[d] Indirect RF

[3] For Chinese langauge readers, it will be apparent that I used mostly Pinyin to render names such as "Jiang Jieshi" and "Guomindang." It was habit for me, even then, and my notes would "flowed" less well if I had to think about the more common form of Romanization on Taiwan at the time, Wade-Giles. Later, I became equally adept at using the system, and I implore students, as I do every year, to learn both.

16 February 1986 

Taipei 
But it is the party—the Guomindang—which is the ultimate source of political power on the island. The majority of Taiwan’s citizens outwardly accept the Guomindang’s political legitimacy. The Guomindang is the government; there is no political opposition within the ultimate realm of decision making on Taiwan. All of the country’s important decisions are made by party members elected directly or, more often, indirectly by the people. The indirect selection is the key to understanding both the status quo and movement toward change.

Elections can be a problem for authoritarian states; this is evident from recent elections in the Philippines, Nicaragua, and Argentina. Once given the right to choose their leaders, people do not easily give it up. For this reason, many one party states have suppressed elections or drastically restructured them. In contrast, Taiwan’s elections are reasonably open and competitive. But they are only local in scope; it is as if Americans could vote only for city councilmen and state representatives; mayors, governors, and all national offices would be appointed by “the party.” Taiwan’s leaders have created free, democratic elections while limiting their scope, their duration, and the issues covered.

[e] Choice RF