A Conversation with Professor Wang Gungwu

|


Editor-in-Chief Brian Wong speaks with Professor Wang Gungwu, the former Vice Chancellor of University of Hong Kong and highly acclaimed historian of Chinese migrant history. Prof. Wang and Brian discuss his academic work, the past, present, future of Chinese politics, and his musings on philosophy of history.

OPR: A lot of your works have focussed specifically on the historical and contemporary developments of the Chinese migrant community overseas. What were some of the primary motivations that drove your work? What were some of the core methodological difficulties and issues that you encountered? One issue I can think of is the empirical difficulty of tracing lineage, coupled with the conceptual challenges of establishing a discrete categorisation for who or what communities count as “Chinese”. Were these questions that you ever had to grapple with?

Wang Gungwu: I was brought up to believe that my parents and I were going back to China the moment we could. Until I was back in Ipoh when the Nanjing government lost to the CCP, I did not think of myself as a huaqiao. After 1949, I became increasingly sensitive to the problems the huaqiao faced in post-imperial nations like Malaya and Indonesia. Where did they belong?

But it was only I after I decided to be a historian that I really began to write about the subject. My primary interest remained the study of China and its long history. I soon realized that studying the huaqiao required a different set of tools and I looked around at the various ways these Chinese overseas were being written about. It was not enough to approach contemporary questions merely by extending my efforts to study the new national history of Malaya.

There were many difficulties. Settled groups of Chinese who identified with the new Malayan nation tended to support the government’s anti-communist Emergency-War. Nationalistic Chinese who looked to China resisted any anti-China propaganda. Agents of the People’s Republic of China and their sympathisers reached out to all huaqiao for help to develop the new China. The more I read, the more I realized that there were several parallel battles going on.

On the whole, I found that it was necessary to  learn mors about the history of Chinese migration over the centuries. So I went back to the records and reports available; I also read the newspapers in order to get the timelinse right before trying to follow the changes in colonial and local nationalist policies towards the migrants.

Yes, I had to be clear who to include as “Chinese”. Each colony/country had its own crtiiteria, while the successive governments in China called them Nanyang Huaqiao and tried to treat them all alike. I should add that the temptation to consider everyone of Chinese origin who is resident abroad as Chinese has reappeared. But the PRC government seems to be primarily interested in the highly skilled and experienced professionals who were born and educated in China.

OPR: Many – in the early years of China’s economic liberalisation – noted that China’s migrant community could play a crucial role in propelling economic and political liberalisation within the country. Do you think this has worked out as initially forecasted (I note here that the terms “liberalisation” are potentially unhelpfully vague, but would like to keep this question open!).

Wang Gungwu: I don’t think the Chinese overseas thought in those terms; they were down-to earth and mainly wanted to continue trading and investing in China to build their own businesses. At the beginning, the PRC needed their remittances for foreign exchange and made efforts to get them to invest in economic development. But the CCP never lost their suspicions concerning the bourgeois mentality that most Chinese overseas displayed.

With Deng Xiaoping’s reforms, and the turning to various success stories in the Korea-Taiwan-HK-Singapore “models”, there came expectations that China would have to follow the”liberal” path to modernization. I doubt many Chinese would have mistaken that as political liberalization as understood in the West. Those who hoped for that were confined mainly to rather ideological analysts, for example, some American commentators who believed that liberalization had to follow after China has produced a large enough middle class.

Not many still think that way today, but it took a long time for them to see that it was possible for illiberal capitalism to be economically successful. That would satisfy most people and lead them to support the current PRC system. Many believe that such a state-driven centralized structure will eventually fail to deliver what any modern society wants. But should the system fail, it would not necessarily be followed by liberalization. More likely, the failure would be followed by internal instability; were that to be further encouraged and supported by external forces, the slowdown that results would bring stagnation and decline, if not something worse.

OPR: You have rejected the categorisation of Chinese migrants as a “diaspora”. May I ask why that is the case? I understand that you have reservations about the term “diaspora” being politicised and weaponised as an exclusionary term that Otherises Chinese immigrants into countries – to what extent do you think “Otherised” populations ought to embrace, as opposed to downplay, their Otherness?

Let me take the two questions together. I am old enough to have been very sensitive about the prevalence of anti-Semitism; in my youth, I read a lot about the Holocaust. Therefore, I took seriously what Harry Benda said about anti-Sinicism becoming something similar. To me, as the Oxford Dictionary of the English Language recognises, the word diaspora primarily describes a Jewish phenomenon. The Chinese, of course, did not lose their country and did not have to live in exile for two millennia.

However, many Chinese have a very deep respect for their history and could carry this in their hearts and minds for a very long time. Without having to return to China, they could maintain their feelings about being Chinese while adopting other living styles, languages, even religions – in some cases, even if they wished to set aside their Chinese identity, there were others who would always see them as Chinese.

Historically, most of those who came originally from China and settled down with local families had totally accepted their new local identities. We do not know how many would still want to returnto the mother country. In any case, as far as we know, none of them had the kind of faith in return that, against all odds, had kept Jewish communities active and strong for so long.

I concede that the powerful social science establishment that have brushed aside the historical origins of the idea of diaspora has won that battle. But I still hesitate to accept that Chinee overseas are comparable.

Of course, it would be true to say that you don’t need the word “diaspora” to politicize discrimination and weaponize prejudice. You also don’t need that word to reach out and appeal to people of Chinese origins to admire China’s modern achievements and ask them to re-identify with, and support, the “mother country” against its potential enemies. The word does not really matter so much under modern globalized conditions, For example, it would not be surprising if those who live in countries that are inclined to be anti-Chinese might respond to such appeals. But those of Chinese origin who have been fully accepted as loyal citizens of their country of adoption are unlikely to be so moved.

OPR: Do Chinese migrants have a role to play in moderating or reforming Xi’s “China Dream” for the better? Or is his dream purely a vision that is founded upon assertive nationalism pertaining to an imagined community that excludes any who do not subscribe to a heavily political Chinese identity?

Wang Gungwu: I think that is a heavily loaded question that I cannot answer without taking a political stance.

Let me then come at the question from a different angle. I simply point to what I know about the contributions that many Chinese overseas have made to China’s modernization during the last 150 year. These contributions were made mostly in the coastal cities and to the counties in their immediate hinterlands. I doubt this has anything to do, one way or another, with Xi Jinping’s “dream”.

However, since Deng Xiaoping’s reforms, those who went overseas to study or work have originatd from every province of the country. Most of them are operating at every level of education and business, specifically in science and technolgy fields, and many have performed brilliantly. They have helped to dilute the CCP’s socialist image and redefine a new kind of national pride.

Those “new migrants 新移民” who have remained outside China have many more layers of ties with those at home than the earlier generations of “overseas Chinese”. On the one hand, they are more likely to understand what Xi Jinping wants for China. On the other, the CCP has greater expectations of them and wants them to help the party achieve its goals for the country and not just return to tell them what the leadership should be doing.

Incidentally, I am not sure the “dream” is personal to Xi Jinping. A lot of it sounds very similar to all the dreams that Chinese national elites have enjoined their people to believe in since the late 19th century. What might be peculiar to Xi Jinping is his faith in the system that his father’s generation had developed and his determination not to allow the CCP to be corrupted and end pitifully like its Soviet counterpart. He certainly believes that only the CCP can save China, keep it united, and go on to achieve the progress the nation needs to become great again.

OPR: I’ve always been fascinated about the continuities between Chinese historical concepts and modern Chinese politics – from “Tianxia” (“天下”) to “Sihaiweijia” (“四海為家”), or the notion of Heaven’s Mandate (“天命”). I was wondering if there are any noticeable discontinuities that you’ve been especially intrigued by. Has China changed much in its core essence since the Ming Dynasty? Or is it merely a neo-feudalistic system?

Wang Gungwu: What fascinates me is how every generation of Chinese voice their faithfulness to many aspects of traditionl (Confucian) values. But the desire for continuity does not hide the fact that the Chinese people have changed. They do not “love the ancient 好古” but are now committted to the idea of progress. And the science and technology they have mastered has not only confirmed their ability to control the country’s development, but also made their centralized bureaucracy much more powerful than anything that the Chinese have ever experienced.

There is nothing feudalistic about making Karl Marx their other sage, the one that looks to a progressive future. The CCP leaders are now confident that they have the capacity to directly control people, ideas and institutions throughout the country. This is very different from the ability of Ming or Qing bureaucracies to get things done. The major discontinuity stems from the rapid transformation of a rural economy to a highly industrialized one dominated by a new urban middle class. This represents a steady “Shanghaization” of society that the centralised state seeks to monitor and control and also direct towards towards a commitment to order and stability. The CCP may feel threatened by foreign efforts to channelize China’s future in other directions, but it will not hesitate to use some very modern “progressive” instruments to nullify those efforts.

OPR: 2020 is not a good year so far for the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Given the challenges posed by the Trade War, Hong Kong protests, and the raging Coronavirus – what advice would you offer to Xi Jinping? Where lies the future of Chinese politics?

Wang Gungwu: I have no idea how to run a huge country or, for that matter, cook a small fish. Having read several of Xi Jinping’s all-encompassing speeches, and also seen him in action and found him surprisingly cool and gentle, I am sure he does not need any advice from the likes of someone who has only lived in “stand-alone” (more or less) cities like Singapore and Hong Kon,g and countries like Malaysia and Australia at times when they each had less than twenty million people.

It is difficult to apply the word “politics” to China without explaining that the Chinese word 政治  carries a different burden there. In the West, politics today suggests participation by many partisan groups representing a mulitplicity of interests and competing (more or less openly) for a chance to wield power and make a difference. China had experimented with that kind of poliitcs for a few decades but ended up rejecting it when the PLA helped the CCP to total victory on the battlefield.

Mao Zedong then invented a kind of populism to represent his understanding of “people’s democracy” and the word “politics” became more like intra-party rivalries within a centralized bureaucratic system. It is striking that when Western scholars complain about the lack of political reform in China to accompany economic reforms, the Chinese seem genuinely puzzled. The former are referring to the lack of improvement in matters like participation, transparency and accountability, while the latter point to the many political reforms that post-Deng China had made to enable the CCP government to ensure order and stibility and sustain economic development.

Sometimes, I like to compare what the PRC is up against to the way “(red-)classicists” or generalists try to keep control over professional bureaucrats or experts/specialists who know more than they do about any specific subject or problem. If that comparison is valid, the CCP has a long way to go before they can manage it efficiently.

OPR: As a trained historian, how would you remark on your own methods in historiography? What advice would you give to aspiring historians seeking to make an impact in both research and public advocacy, if at all?

Wang Gungwu: I hesitate to call myself a “trained” historian. Because of the university conditions of the 1947-57 period, I was left largely to “train” myself with the help of a variety of scholars, from historians to sinologists, from poetry, fiction, theatre and music critics to economists, philosophers, anthropologists, linguists and archaeologists (to mention the most obvious). I also learnt from some journalists, political and security analysts (“China-watchers”, for example) and IR theorists, a pretty mixed bunch, I must admit. That is why one of my friends described me as “someone widely untrained”. I do not regret what had befallen me, but that description is not one that I would wish on anyone.

My advice for an aspiring historian, for what it’s worth, is to get as much training as you can from the best scholars in history – that was something I missed as a student in an earlier age. While doing that, continue to read all the books and articles that interest you, and avoid being locked into any one set of methodologies.

I should add that I have never practised public advocacy as a historian/scholar. This was not because I am opposed to doing that on principle. I simply believe that I am better at explaining historical issues than at offering practical solutions to problems in areas beyond my competence. I have my own opinions as a private citizen and freely share them with my friends, but I respect the difference between doing that and claiming to know how to do better than those on the job.

OPR: History is propelled by a mixture of factors – ranging from individuals (“Great Men”, if you will) to structures, from collectives to coincidences. What is your view with regards to the centuries-old individual vs. structure debate? Do you lament or regret the increasing shift in historical studies away from the “Great Man” school of historical analysis?

Wang Gungwu: Like many historians, I started with “Leaders” (whether great or not) and was then fascinated by the power of ideas (even ideologies) and the persistence of institutions, systems and structures in determining the longer-term course of events. And there were also moments when I acknowledged the role of chance. So you can see that I have been through a range of possible approaches to understand the flow of historical events.

However, I have found none of these factors satisfactory, and recognize that each might have contributed to some part of the fuller story. The historian needs to take more than one of them into account in order to explain what, how and why something happened. He has a responsibility to do what he can to identify the likeliest possibilities; ultimately, he would wish to suggest which factors had the greater impact on any significant change to our world and what we can learn from that.

Despite all that, I still believe in agency in the way events occur in history –- not only the top-down actions of one man or of a group, but also the crowds and mobs that responded to alternate ideas and systems, and those among them who were ready to challenge the way the erstwhile powerful had behaved.

OPR: What do you see as the future for Singapore’s relationship with China? How, if at all, could Singapore navigate the US-China trade war?

Wang Gungwu: Singapore’s priority is to be able to live in peace with its neighbours of the “Malay world”. As I see it, this is best done if the ten-nation ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations) can stay united when dealing with the great powers that are trying to dominate the region in one way or another. If Singapore can succeed in getting all its neighbours to support independent positions between any of the big powers, it would also be making a major contribution to China’s relationships with the strategic countries to its south. I think such a contribution is something that China might well appreciate.

Should there be open US-China rivalry in all disputed areas, that would make Singapore’s position more difficult. Ideally, if ASEAN stands united, the pressure on Singapore would be lessened. If there is any uncertainty, and the city-state is forced to balance security guarantees against economic advantages, the decisions that Singapore might have to make would be tough indeed.

Therefore, there is everything to gain to help the world avoid allowing those two powers to get into that position. Singapore would always have to be among those seen to be consistently open and fair when dealing with the US and China, and be proactive in doing what it can to enable them both to keep their rivalry under control. This may be a mission impossible for a small country, but being known to be constantly trying to resolve problems through reason may help Singapore to keep the trust of both sides. However, this may still not mean much without the united support of the ASEAN member-states, whose interests must also be to persuade the two powers to back away from open confrontation.

OPR: What were your fondest memories of your tenure as Hong Kong University’s Vice Chancellor? And what do you see as the way out for Hong Kong given the crisis it is undergoing?

HKU made good progress during my time there turning from a largely undergraduate teaching university into one that did original research and attracted brilliant graduate students. It was a time when staff and students shared a common interest in achieving the same goal, that is, to make the university so respected that, when the Hong Kong system became part of China as one country, the PRC authorities would be proud of its achievements and give it every support for further development.

As for the current crisis, I did not predict that it would come to this, and cannot tell what will happen in the years to come. All I can hope to do is to explain some key elements in the tragic developments of recent months.

It is true that the government in Beijing has sought greater control across the board throughout China, and has not been responsive to the expectations in Hong Kong about the promise of general elections. It is also true that the city’s economic development has benefitted the rich much more than ordinary Hongkongers, and this has deeply hurt not only the poor but also the young who aspire to upward mobility.

What is clear is that the “one country, two systems” frame has inadequacies and has left room for distrust among all concerned. In particular, for young Hongkongers, the idea that the PRC will not eventually become more like Hong Kong as many had hoped but, instead, Hong Kong may become more like other cities within China, is now seen as an intolerable prospect. It is not unthinkable for Beijng to extend the “two systems” beyond 2047, following the formula of “50 years no change”, and that would be a welcome development for most people in the city. But that would only be so if China becomes more open and sensitive to local needs. The devil remains in the detail, in how the Basic Law is interpreted by Beijing whenever the occasion calls for it.

OPR: Do you think historians have an inherent obligation towards uncovering the truth, even if the truth is dangerous or damaging for the present – particularly when taken out of context? Where truth and practical interests collide, which should take precedence – if at all?

Wang Gungwu: I have no illusions about how far historians are able to determine the truth in what they write. They can present the facts that they can vouch for as accurate, and offer the best possible account of an event based on those facts. At some levels, the facts are not too difficult to verify. However, many historians (if they feel obliged to) also do what they can to deal with larger issues that require them to draw some conclusions without all the facts being knowable. They would then seek to learn the hows and the whys, and try to judge the importance of what is known. For example, they may have to interpret the extent of responsibility of the protagonists involved; they may even have to dispute the reasons why earlier writings had come to different conclusions and question such conclusions about the consequences that followed.

As for truth in history being dangerous or damaging, I do not subscribe to that possibility. What can be dangerous are the ways certain kinds of knowledge are used or abused by people or communities or governments, even by certain historians, for ulterior motives. In most such cases, they can easily be seen as propaganda.