By Chester B Cabalza
Blogger's Notes:
Commentary of an Academic
(Copyright @ 2014 by Chester B Cabalza. All Rights Reserved).
Blogger's Notes:
Commentary of an Academic
(Copyright @ 2014 by Chester B Cabalza. All Rights Reserved).
(Asia’s Cauldron, Chrysanthemum and the
Sword, Secrets of the 18 Mansions)
The
fighting spirit in me to read a number of books this semester challenged me as
a working graduate student. Although
the books are easy read if it really interests me. But as I reflect, even if I
keep on acquiring books, I oftentimes forget to browse or even read it. Because
of my World Ethnography class, I have been encouraged to smell the pages of my
books and read the texts of some classic and current paperbacks locked inside
the drawers of my mini-library at home.
Three
years ago, I had invited Dr Mario Miclat to lecture in my module at the
National Defense College of the Philippines, and as a gesture of his kindness,
he gave me a copy of his novel, Secrets
of the Eighteen Mansions. I have known him as a China expert on society and
culture in the academic community, although, I had no chance to enroll in his subject
back when I was finishing my masters at UP Asian Center. After inviting him in
my class to lecture about China with military officers as my students, the more
his memories reverberated about the Middle Kingdom. All the while, I started to
fall in love with Chinese culture and society, especially that China has become
one of my research interests.
On
the other hand, since my college days, I had been hearing about how prolific a
writer anthropologist Ruth Benedict was. I am told that I need to read her
ethnographic masterpiece, The
Chrysanthemum and the Sword: Patterns of Japanese Culture, most especially that
I work for the National Defense. Some says it is considered a classic book. And
to better review it, I might as well to read it, to know whether or not the
ethnography is truly excellent. Given the culture
at a distance context of the writing, the ethnographic research is truly
superb in narrative. I am thinking in the future, when I will be writing later
on a dissertation about China, given my limited travel and studies in China for
a short period of time, it may not be considered as a fieldwork in its full scale,
perhaps, I can use the same methodology as what Ruth Benedict had done in her
best-selling book about the Japanese culture and society.
With
the success of 2012 Jacques Martin’s provocative testimonial on When China Rules the World, a new book
published this year is making some noise about Asia’s Cauldron: The South China Sea and the End of a Stable Pacific by
Robert Kaplan. It talks about the security environment of the world and the
change of fulcrum of power from Europe’s landscape to Asia’s seascape. With my
current interest on the South China Sea vis
a vis West Philippine Sea issue, perhaps this western narrative can help me
understand deeper the impacts of defense and security architecture of the
Asia-Pacific region.
Given
the backgrounds of these three great selection of books, Mario Miclat’s story
is based from his personal life’s struggles about the commune and secret
society in China and the Philippines, disguised as a novel, as a literary
license he can think of to freely express his narratives about communist China.
On the other hand, the ethnography of Ruth Benedict should be viewed from a historical particularism context because
Japan during World War II became the prime foe of the Americans inspired by
archival research and key informant interviews without the support of actual
fieldwork in Japan. What interest me about the book is that it was used for
intelligence and espionage by the Americans using the methods of the
anthropology of war and war anthropology. Lastly, journalist Robert Kaplan’s
latest book discusses hottest maritime issues in the 21st century
and analyzes the use of maps as flashpoints of conflicts from the multi-disciplinary
perspectives of history, anthropology, international relations, and strategic
culture.
Content
wise, Miclat’s 251 pages novel, published by Anvil in 2010, has a prologue and
epilogue divided into ten chapters. The story starts in Manila and ends in
Beijing. The novel is also long listed in the 2009 Man Asian Literary Prize.
Whereas, Benedict’s ethnography has thirteen chapters, written in 1964 and published
by World Publishing Company in 1967, containing 324 pages including
acknowledgements, glossary, and index. It is considered one of the best-selling
ethnographies of all time. Meanwhile, Kaplan’s book, published by Random House
in New York, has 209 pages with eight chapters, also has a prologue, epilogue,
acknowledgements, notes, and index. Among the three, Benedict’s work has the
most number of reviews because of its timeless theme, more than five decades of
presence as a classical literature; though, there are few reviews for Miclat’s
book, mostly from the local readers; while, Kaplan’s research is starting to
get good reviews from the international critics.
Context
wise, the strength of Miclat is his power to narrate stories and his literary prowess
that would compel his reader to compare Chinese and Filipino culture and
society. The period of the novel should also be understood in order to better
understand the setting and soul of the account – it tackles stories from the
first quarter storm of student activism and the formation of the New People’s
Army in the Philippines, including fragments of back stories about China’s
Cultural Revolution in the late 1960s and early 1970s. On the other hand,
Benedict is swollen with a mission to profoundly tell a story about the
ideology of the Japanese as it is reflected in the daily manner and customs of
their life. It outlines the multi-faceted Japanese society, ethics, political,
religious and economic life. Lastly, Kaplan dissects contested perspectives in
the South China Sea as he renders the importance of geography and maps, discusses
China’s Caribbean referring to Southeast Asia, frames concert of civilizations
referring to major powers across the region, and pushes the Unites States role
in the security environment of the region. It gives us a view on how geography
determines destiny. He has a poignant thesis on how to construct the imperative
roles of economics, military strategy, maritime power, Sinitic culture, and
geopolitics.
In
trying to flesh out important details of thinking from the thinkers of the
three chosen books, Kaplan’s account in Asia’
Cauldron: The South China Sea and the End of a Stable Pacific, describes
the contested South China Sea as (p9), “the
throat of the Western Pacific and Indian oceans – the mass of connective economic
tissue where global sea route coalesce. Here is the heart of Eurasia’s
navigable rimland, punctuated by Malacca, Sunda, Lombok and Makassar straits.
More than half of the world’s annual merchant fleet tonnage passes through the
choke point, and a third of all maritime traffic worldwide.” In Kaplan’s
musing into understanding the concert of civilizations in Asia, he was helped
by the late anthropologist Clifford Geertz to understand a bigger picture, in
which he said to him (p73), “while the
reality of a foreign culture is not simply a prejudice on the part of the
observer, at the same time, there was such a thing as the ‘basic unity of
mankind’. Thus, too much of an emphasis on culture and civilization could
obscure the reality of human reality itself.” And as Asia’s Cauldron
connotes in his book, he points out that (p49), “domination of the South China Sea would certainly clear way for
pivotal Chinese air and naval influence throughout the navigable rimland of
Eurasia – the Indian and Pacific oceans both. The South China Sea is now a
principal node of global power politics, critical to the preservation of the
worldwide balance of power.” In his mind, China thinks out it has the right
to tight belt Asia’s maritime territories using the controversial cow’s tongue
or nine-dashed line concept because (p166), “the
South China Sea and its environs are Chinese near-abroad, where China is
harmoniously reasserting the status quo, having survived the assault upon it by
Western powers,” Kaplan believed.
Reading
the mind of Ruth Benedict in her influential ethnographic book, The Chrysanthemum and the Sword, it
brings me to her thesis on the concept of hierarchy, as she wrote (pp56-57), “such a bald statement of hierarchy in the
Japanese family does not, when Americans read it with their different standards
of interpersonal behavior, do justice to the acceptance of strong and
sanctioned emotional ties in Japanese families. There is considerable
solidarity in the household and how they achieve it is one of the subjects of
this book.” Thus, as a substantial example of wartime ethnography, she was
commissioned to write the book and explain the Japanese culture including their
psychology of militarism and patriotism since WWII, as she shares her thought (p1),
“conventions of war which Western nations
had come to accept as facts of human nature obviously did not exists for the
Japanese. It made the war in the Pacific more than a series of landings on
island beaches, more than an unsurpassed problem of logistics. It made it a
major problem in the nature of the enemy. We had to understand their behavior
in order to cope with it.” Unable to undergo the Malinowskian model of
fieldwork due to the wartime situation, Benedict furthermore had relied much her
data at that time from US-based Japanese translators, by reading and watching
Japanese propaganda books and movies, and by using comparative method to better
understand the contradictions in Japanese traditional culture. With that, her
work received harsh criticisms among anthropologists, and other critics slammed
her method something as not so different from what historians do; however, it
remained influential in shaping the minds of American policy-makers during the
WWII.
Meanwhile, Mario Miclat’s Secrets of the Eighteen Mansions, claimed
by critic-readers as disappointing, uninspired, a narrative of the author’s
misadventures in his youth, a black propaganda, life of a communist cadre in
China during Martial Law in the Philippines, a tale of an underground Filipino
expat in China, and the book is incoherent as its chronology. However, it can
be inferred that the form of the novel maybe considered as an art too, given
his poetic license, to articulate his thoughts in such a form. Regarding the
title of his novel, the eighteen mansions refer to the buildings in a secret
compound in Beijing where the Chinese Communist Party in 1960s and 1970s housed
delegations of Communists parties all over the world to facilitate its secret
aid to their own insurgencies. The Mansion No. 7 is where the author, as a
member of the Communist Party of the Philippines, stayed with his family since
1971. He lived and worked in that mansion at Radio Peking. In his novel he has
vivid memories of the mansion, as he writes (P108), “twenty-meter-high skyrocketing poplar trees at 10-meter intervals
within the cypress hedges hemmed in the cemented two-meter-wide driveway
fronting our mansion. But the Chinese describe most everything in precise
mathematical terms and one gets to used to their system after a while.
Meanwhile, the back and southern side of the house was an orchard of walnut,
plum blossom and apple trees.” He returned to the Philippines in 1986 and
felt disillusioned with the party he help founded it with Jose Ma Sison aka Amado Guerrero. In the novel he continued by
writing (p109), “we constantly discussed
how to weaken the dominant superstructure – ideas, customs, habits, culture –
all the institutions that supported, strengthened and consolidated the economic
basis of US imperialism, the law, the authorities, the military, the police,
and Washington apples.” Roberto Tiglao (PDI: 2010) in his column, strongly
deems that Miclat’s book is not a fictional novel, rather a personal and
political memoir of his nearly two decades as one of Sison’s earliest recruits who
worked as an editor and translator in Beijing. In Tiglao’s words, since the
novel is overtly titled, Secrets of the
Eighteen Mansions, he views that secrets range from the personal to the
political. To quote from one of his examples, there’s an instance where CPP’s
founder Joma Sison found him womanizing and bearing an illegitimate daughter
and even physically abusing his wife – it is trivial yet shocking for many
readers like me.
Each
book has its strong points in terms of genre and style of story-telling.
Miclat’s book is a novel but documents his personal life since some characters
in his story are real like his own family members and other personalities used pseudonyms
in his organizations in China and the Philippines. Benedict’s book is an
ethnography based from her research assignment as Head of the Basic Analysis
Section of the Bureau of Overseas Intelligence of the United States’ Office of
War Information (OWI) who later on advised then US president Theodore Roosevelt
by the time Japan lost the war in WWII to the emerging superpower of the late
20th century, the United States, not to dethrone the emperor of the Japanese
to allow continuity of his divine monarchy in the Rising Sun. Kaplan’s book is
the latest book on how to understand the security dynamics around the South
China Sea as he tries to mine important historical narratives as to why China
is behaving as a hegemon robed by its Middle Kingdom mentality in the East
Asian region which has parallel comparison to the US when it was emerging as a
superpower in the Atlantic region. Security interests as a hegemon requires
dominance over resources and other important strategic defense and security
dynamics. Kaplan even foresees the fate of the disputed seas which cover the
hottest sea lanes of communications (SLOCS) in the globalized world as all
cargo ships and goods from various continents worldwide pass through these high
seas.
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