Migration to China and Attitudes Towards Unification and National Identity Among Young Taiwanese
Introduction
China has long claimed Taiwan to be an integral and inseparable part of the Chinese nation. Over the years, China has engaged in a multiplicity of strategies to coerce Taiwan towards unification, and the Taiwanese towards assimilating under a singular Chinese identity. After the 2014 Sunflower Movement protests in Taiwan, China identified the Taiwanese youth as a target demographic for coercive measures (Li, 2015). Since then, the state has implemented a number of “positive sanctions” (Tanner, 2007) to encourage young Taiwanese to migrate to the mainland. At a press conference on February 28th 2018, China unveiled “Thirty-one Measures for Promoting Economic and Cultural cooperation with Taiwan” (Norton and Barss, 2018), a list of policies of which nineteen are aimed directly at Taiwanese citizens. The policies offer Taiwanese new incentives, on top of ones that already exist, to migrate to China for work or study.
Such incentives have been recognised by Taiwan as an attempt to induce young, talented Taiwanese into favouring unification with China (Cheng, 2016). They seek to exacerbate the huge brain drain problem Taiwan is already facing, as a large proportion of its professional workforce continues to migrate abroad to seek better career opportunities
(Smith, 2017). Through a series of in-depth interviews with young Taiwanese migrants in China, this paper seeks to ascertain whether or not living in China for extended periods of time affects Taiwanese attitudes towards national identity and cross-strait unification. The majority of young Taiwanese migrate to China’s big cities. In order to establish a general consensus about the Taiwanese experience of life in China, a cross-section of young
Taiwanese from different professional backgrounds, living in different cities was selected for analysis.
Through a simple interview coding process and the arrangement of data into cohesive categories of information, this paper provides answers to the follow questions:
How do young Taiwanese experience life in China?
How do young Taiwanese negotiate national identity in China?
How does living in China influence attitudes towards national identity and cross-strait unification among young Taiwanese?
Following the presentation of the findings, there is a discussion section that expands on the results and reintroduces theory to analyse them in the context of existing research. The paper finds that although Taiwanese are gratified with the personal development and career development time in China affords them, they do not change their attitudes towards national identity nor unification by virtue of living in China and interacting with Chinese people. They undertake several practices in order to negotiate their national identity that ultimately end up reinforcing it.
The history of the Taiwan conflict
Taiwan was originally the home territory of several Malay-Polynesian aboriginal tribes. The island succumbed to colonial invasions in the early seventeenth century by both the Dutch and Spanish, who took control of different parts of the land (Ng, 2009, p. 3). China, at the time, was in the midst of another revolution. Manchu forces had driven incumbent Ming dynasty rulers out of the capital and begun to declare the birth of a new empire—the Qing dynasty. The nascent dynasty (which was to be China’s very last) faced substantial opposition. Much of it came in the form of pirate and bandit armies made up of Ming loyalists, one of which was the rebel sealord Koxinga (Ho, 2013).
After failing to protect China from the encroaching Manchu invasion, Koxinga defected to Taiwan, drove out the colonial powers and conquered the island, remaining there until he died in 1662 (Ho, 2013, p. 67). Twenty-one years later, Qing armies invaded Taiwan, surmounted the regime Koxinga had established, and instituted a new one that lasted over two-hundred years. Between 1894 and 1895, the Qing dynasty was at war with the Japanese empire over control of Korea, which concluded when China sued for peace and enacted the 1895 Sino-Japanese Peace Treaty. One condition of the treaty was that the island of Taiwan was to be ceded to Japan, thus marking the beginning of Japanese colonial rule over Taiwan, which lasted until the end of the second world war (Ng, 2009, p. 4).
The defeat of Japan in the second world war meant Taiwan was relinquished to the Republic of China (ROC), the officially recognised Chinese state at the time. However, the mainland once again became fraught with internal conflict and political upheaval. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) established itself as China’s ruling authority in 1949 and expelled ROC forces to the island of Taiwan, which marked the birth of the modern-day country known as Taiwan (Republic of China) (Ng, 2009, p. 5). The new People’s Republic of China (PRC) grew in prominence throughout the next twenty years via its aggressive
foreign policy postures that led to several border wars (Sullivan, 2016, p. 250). It eventually came into conflict with the U.S. in 1964, after the Americans’ decided to bomb Northern Vietnam. However, China’s support for Vietnam gradually receded leading the U.S. to lift trade embargos and forgo the twenty-year diplomatic freeze between itself and China. This, in combination with support from friendly Soviet states, led the PRC to become accepted as a United Nations Permanent Security Council Member. The ROC not only lost its security council membership, but its entire right to representation in the UN (Sullivan, 2007, p. 251).
Officially, both the ROC and PRC have claimed the entirety of China and Taiwan as their sovereign territory ever since. In actuality, the recovery of all this territory remains a top political mandate for Beijing only. While the ROC did actually govern the whole of China at one point, no political representative of the PRC has ever set foot in Taiwan. The PRC’s claim to Taiwan is based on a singular historical narrative in which the Sino-Japanese Peace Treaty conferred sovereignty over the island to China (as in the Chinese nation) rather than any specific government (Charney and Prescott, 2000). According to this narrative, the rightful heir to the governing powers of China is now the PRC and therefore Taiwan rightfully belongs to the PRC (Charney and Prescott, 2000). In this sense, the ROC is
regarded as a renegade government that was long overthrown and merely exists illegitimately on the fringes of society.
Of course, this completely ignores how the people of Taiwan feel, the majority of whom claim their own unique national identity based on what they regard as the country of Taiwan (Rigger, 2015). Taiwan is de facto independent because it exercises self-governance, and contemporary international law that confers the human right to self-determination confirms this (Chen et al., 2017). This makes the situation extremely complicated, especially since neither side the ROC nor PRC appear willing to relent. Certain scholars, such as Charney and Prescott (2000, p. 474) have called for an amicable dispute settlement between both parties. However, with Beijing viewing Taiwan as an integral and inseparable part of the Chinese nation (Xi, 2017) and the number of Taiwanese wanting unification steadily
decreasing year by year, an amicable resolution seems merely a pipe dream.
Beijing’s actual motives for recovering Taiwan are not explicit beyond the rhetoric of its integrity in the drive towards the “rejuvenation of the Chinese nation” (Xi, 2017, p. 1). This notion forms a part of the larger concept of The Chinese Dream; a political framing discourse and public communication campaign espoused by President Xi Jinping. The Chinese Dream found its roots in old Chinese folk songs (Bislev, 2015), but has gained momentum under the current administration, and provides the framework for its grand
development strategy. Ane Bislev (2015) believes it contributes to national identity building and helps foster a renewed sense of unity, purpose and common destination among the Chinese people. Beijing’s insinuation that the Taiwanese are “sons and daughters of the Chinese nation” (Xi, 2017, p. 9) asserts that it considers national identity in primordial terms, rather than as a result of civic participation. With this in mind, relinquishing Taiwan could be akin to pulling a crucial block from the proverbial tower that prevents The Chinese Dream and the Chinese nation from collapsing into disunity.
Other scholars, such as Joseph Bosco (2018), suggest Taiwan offers a strategic offensive asset against potential aggressors in both North and Southeast Asia, and this drives the desire for unification. The PRC have been aggressively pursuing maritime expansionism over the South China Seas, building artificial islands that act as military outposts to reassert their claims over the water, and pose a threat to rivals (Specia and Takkunen, 2018). Control of Taiwan could allow Beijing to make its “nine dash line” more enforceable, and less susceptible to counter-efforts from Vietnam, Malaysia and the Philippines (Bosco, 2018). Long-time rival Japan is heavily reliant on sea lanes off the east coast of Taiwan for the transportation of raw materials. Access to these would allow China to employ actions such as a naval blockade when deemed necessary (Bosco, 2018).
Chinese attempts at unification
Above I have outlined why China wants to unify with Taiwan. What Beijing seems to be currently perplexed by is how to administer unification. The most radical and also quickest route would be for China to take Taiwan by force. No attempts have been made as of yet, but internal military documents retrieved and published by a think tank analyst in October 2017 revealed secret plans to invade the island by 2020 (Gertz, 2017). These could, however, simply be purposefully-leaked scare tactics. Some scholars believe an invasion would be too costly to be worthwhile. Michael O’ Hanlon (2000) notes that a considerable amount of Taiwan’s west coast is made up of mud flats, while its east coast is lined with mountains. At any given point of attack, Taiwan would be able to strengthen its defense forces much
quicker than China would be able to build up its attack (O’Hanlon, 2000). Even with China’s now well-equipped offensive forces, Michael Beckley (2017) believes Taiwan’s neighbours can “check Chinese maritime expansion” through U.S. arms bolstering and back-up U.S. forces strategically stationed around the East Asian periphery.
Beijing’s preferred method thus far has been to use sanctions strategy to coerce Taiwan towards unification. The state’s tactics have differed throughout the years, beginning with negative sanctions that included military intimidation during the formal years of
Taiwan’s democratic consolidation (Jaeger, 2018, p. 119). Throughout the early 2000s, Taiwan was under President Chen Shui-bian’s administration, who proposed a referendum on unification. Beijing started to initiate positive sanctions including the introduction of some minor economic incentives (Jaeger, 2008, p. 121). When Chen was reelected in 2004, the focus shifted almost entirely to positive sanctions, with then Chinese president Hu Jintao expressing compassion for “Taiwan compatriots” and attempting to nourish the possibility of reconciliation (Jaeger, 2018, p. 144).
From Taiwanese President Ma Ying-jeou’s first election in 2008, Beijing further softened the negative sanctions and both sides of the strait initiated peaceful development strategies (Matsuda, 2015, p. 11). Taiwan became evermore economically interdependent with China. However, Taiwanese nationalism was on the rise internally so political
reconciliation became evermore unlikely (Matsuda, 2015). Observers in Taiwan eventually began to see what they believed was China encroaching upon the island’s domestic politics; using its allies in the Taiwanese Kuo Min Tang (KMT) party to inject the system with pro-unification influence.
KMT legislators flouted due parliamentary procedure in 2013 to push through a major trade deal with China, which was then negotiated behind closed doors (Rowen , 2015, p. 6). In March of the next year when the bill was due to pass, hundreds of students stormed the legislature in a twenty-four-day occupational protest that has become known as the
Sunflower Movement (Rowen, 2015, p. 5). A similar protest happened once again in 2015, after students believed their textbooks were being inseminated with pro-China propaganda (Gerber and Wang, 2015).
The movements were indicative of a shift in Taiwanese identity politics. Along with major incidents during Ma’s administration that isolated even the most faithful KMT loyalists, the new shift was responsible for the party’s landslide defeat in the 2014 local elections (Hsiesh, 2015). Independence-leaning, Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) candidate Tsai Ing-wen was then elected president in 2016.
Under President Xi Jinping, China’s foreign policy has taken on a new
self-assuredness with increased influence-buying infrastructure building abroad (Zhang, 2017) There have been a number of enhanced, aggressive, yet creative measures to ensure Taiwan’s diplomatic isolation, economic instability and eventual downfall. China was
enraged when President Tsai failed to acknowledge the “1992 consensus” that has upheld unity under the “One China Principle” since the early 2000s (Wong, Wu and Wang, 2016). Conflict has been exacerbated further by the Tsai administration embarking on new economic ventures in South East Asia to decrease reliance on China (Yang, 2017).
China has increased its aggressive poaching of Taiwan’s few remaining allies via what Taiwan describes as “diplomatic money games” (Ponniah, 2017). It has also sought to target private citizens and businesses, both in Taiwan and abroad, to spread its influence. It exercises its “soft power”—a term coined by Joseph Nye to describe using resources and abilities to shape the preferences of others—through Confucius Institutes around the world. These Mandarin training centres have been described as “Trojan horses”, fully administered by the Chinese government with teachers trained to educate students about Tibet and Taiwan in particular, biased ways (Peterson, 2017). Beijing’s recent, largely successful attempts to encourage multinational corporations and airlines to list Taiwan as a Chinese entity are acts of “international signalling”—a practice that entails “discouraging [third party countries] from providing public, diplomatic, economic or military aid” to target states (Tanner, 2007).
Murray Scot Tanner (2007, p. 18) notes that China has targeted specific sectors of Taiwanese society since the early 2000s, where Taiwanese business people in the mainland were selectively threatened and harassed. Some of the state’s more heavy-handed efforts involved touting the arrest of certain figures under allegations of spying (Tanner, 2007, p. 15). Now, however, likely due to the momentum carried by recent youth protest movements in both Taiwan and Hong Kong, and the prominence of Taiwanese nationalism particularly among the youth (Chen et al., 2017), Beijing has begun to target students, recent graduates and young professionals. At a press conference on February 28th 2018, Beijing unveiled “thirty-one measures for promoting economic and cultural cooperation with Taiwan”, drafted by China’s ministries of education, technology, industry and finance (Norton and Barss, 2018). While twelve of them are aimed at Taiwan’s business and finance industries, the other nineteen are aimed directly at citizens.
The measures enhance the benefits of studying, working and living in China for Taiwanese “compatriots”, putting them on more equal footing with their mainland
counterparts (Huang, 2018). Some of the benefits include the right to join Chinese industry associations and the right to study one of the 134 listed professional qualifications (Huang, 2018). Higher education professionals can now apply for China’s “Thousand Talents Plan” which confers successful candidates with the title of “National Distinguished Expert” and offers benefits such as free healthcare and insurance, subsidized housing and extended
residency permits (The Thousand Talents Plan, n.d.). Cooperation in media and the arts is also encouraged, with quotas being lifted on Taiwanese film and television imports to the mainland. Commentators have noted than any cooperative film-making done under the auspices of the Communist Party could be used to propagate biased historical narratives regarding Taiwan (Chung and Hsiao, 2018).
These new efforts accompany existing incentives directed at Taiwanese youth that have been consciously developed over a number of years, including funds for young entrepreneurs and start-up competitions with huge monetary awards (Smith, 2017). The benefits in sapping the young and educated in Taiwan come twofold for Beijing: it exacerbates the brain drain Taiwan has already been experiencing for a number of years (Smith, 2017), and it provides an opportunity for them to experience what the mainland has to offer and hopefully capture their hearts as well as their minds (Goh and Yuh, 2018). This project is concerned with how successful China has been at achieving the latter goal, so the following section deals with the concept of national identity and what it means to both the Chinese and the Taiwanese.
The Taiwanese national identity
Nationalism and the processes of national identity formation can broadly be divided into two categories among scholarly debate: ethno-cultural nationalism and civic-political nationalism (Brown, 2000). Ethno-cultural nationalism focuses on myths of common ancestry, and the perceived similarities between national that these myths have engendered. Civic-political nationalism focuses on the political and social community one belongs to by way of voluntary participation (Brown, 2000, p. 50). Debate has existed throughout time among scholars about whether or not each form of nationalism is legitimate, or even ethical. Belgian sociologist Emile de Laveleye described ethno-cultural nationalism as primitive and less worthy of respect than a sense of community formed through moral and political
considerations (Kohn, 1957). More recently, Bernard Yack (1999) argues civic-political nationalism fails to understand the importance of communal sentiment and is propped up by weak institutions that try to suppress difference.
Michael Billig (1995) would argue that a weak foundation makes little difference to the strength and legitimacy of nationalism, as it is something constantly on the move, reliant on day-to-day communal activity to preserve its strength. According to Billig (1995), “banal” nationalisms are what underpin the unity of the modern nation-state. Mundane daily practices
help align people with a particular social identity (Billig, 1995). Elsewhere, rather than being “excessive and militant” (Kohn, 1962. In Brown, 2000, p. 52) itself, ethno-cultural
nationalism is used to consolidate identity and garner international support for minorities oppressed by excessive and militant multicultural states. Tibetan nationalists “construct emblematic representations of unique culture and history that attaches to and emanates from Tibet” in order to amplify China’s role as the oppressive coloniser (Anand, 2010, p. 283). Former Taiwanese president Chen Shui-bien attempted to consolidate Taiwan’s claims to independent nationhood via “deep historic roots in aboriginal cultures and early Western influences” that made the Taiwanese “fundamentally distinct from the Chinese across the strait” (deLisle, 2010, p. 516).
Beijing’s exact stance on why the Taiwanese share a national identity with the Chinese is contradictive, as it does emphasise ethnic bonds, exemplified by Xi Jinping in his nineteenth congressional address: “Blood is thicker than water. People on both sides of the Taiwan Straits are brothers and sisters; we share the bond of kinship.” (Xi, 2017, p.51) Elsewhere however, CCP official discourse has explicitly acknowledged that China is a “unified multi-ethnic country (tongyi duominzu guojia)” (Han, 2013, p. 27). The state is also incentivising interethnic marriages between the minority Uyghur Muslim population in Xinjiang and the majority Han population in a disturbing attempt to breed out difference and maintain political control (Denyer, 2014). This implicitly acknowledges that different ethnicities exist within China’s borders. If this is the case, then sharing common ancestry should not automatically determine the Taiwanese to be part of the Chinese nation.
Since primordialism confers that ethno-cultural nationalism is the only valid kind, and ignores fundamental human rights such as self-determination, it is not often employed as the sole basis for an argument (Brown, 2000). Taiwan’s leadership has managed to foster a national identity over time based on common commitment to particular values among its citizens, while still acknowledging the nation’s ethnic Chinese origins. Lee Teng-hui, Taiwan’s first democratically elected president, put much effort into making Taiwan
compatible with the “global village” vision of the time that advocated respect for democracy, compliance with human rights norms, a mixed-market economy and collective security (Hughes, 2001). Taiwan’s success in holding democratic elections ever since, and the continuously decreasing number of Taiwanese citizens that identify as Chinese demonstrate that the Taiwanese think of their national identity more in civic-political terms.
Looking at figures specifically, 72% of citizens recognise Taiwan as an independent country under the name Republic of China and 59% identify solely as Taiwanese (Chen et al,
2017). Among the youth—those born after the end of martial law in 1987—these figures increase, with 78% identifying as exclusively Taiwanese (Chen et al., 2017). Although the majority of citizens do not wish for a formal declaration of independence due to fears of Chinese retaliation, 44% of those under forty years old support independence even if it means risk of war (Rigger, 2016). These figures have astounding implications for how (un)able China may be to sway the opinions of Taiwanese youth, especially since the increase of Taiwanese nationalism and pro-independence shows no signs of slowing.
Globalisation and the pervasiveness of global youth culture may be another factor that hinders Beijing’s ability to sway Taiwanese youth. Whereas Taiwan is highly globalised, with an open market economy and the desire to engage with international institutions where possible, China is becoming increasingly closed-off with more and more restrictions being placed on Chinese society’s access to global media, technology and messenger platforms (Hornby, 2017). Gal Ariely (2012) finds that in countries that are considered highly globalised, ethnic conceptions of membership are becoming increasingly scarce. Although certain scholars have now indicated we live in a post-globalisation world where
neo-nationalism is resurging through representations such as Brexit and the increased popularity of right-wing politicians (Flew, 2018), this does not appear to be the case within every nation, or even within every stratum of society in the West. Emma Campbell (2015) identifies how globalisation has led to the transformation of nationalism in South Korea, where race has become a much less important qualifier for national membership, especially among the opinions of the youth. Support for Brexit decreased by age group and stood merely at 27% among 18-24 year olds too (Kelly, 2016).
Modern technology has provided youth around the world with instant access to a wide variety of cultural artefacts and encouraged convergence around a modernised and
cosmopolitan Western culture (Kahn and Kellner, 2004). This notion has played an important role in recent political demonstrations. The aforementioned Sunflower Movement cannot be disconnected from the wave of social-media-facilitated youth protests around the world in the early 2010s (Tejerina et al., 2013). Ming-Sho Ho (2018) argues that the wave of student-led protests in Hong Kong and those in Taiwan were mutually influential, characterised by shared struggles against a common enemy. Even authorities recognised this when leaders of the Sunflower Movement were refused Hong Kong visas in 2014, shortly before the outbreak of the Umbrella Movement (Loa, 2014).
According to Shiying Run Pan (2014), the student protests in Taiwan not only represented feelings of a strong, exclusive national, but also reconstituted it. The protests
marked a breaking point in which the Taiwanese discovered their national identity can differ from that of the central government (Pan, 2014, p. 459). This led Chinese academics to begin conducting and publishing research into how specifically to adjust the Taiwanese youth’s vision of China, much of which is published in Chinese journal dangdai qingnian yanjiu (Contemporary Youth Research). Li Bin (2015) suggests that China further emphasizes cultural commonalities in order to win young Taiwanese over. But if Taiwanese youth see common civic participation and interaction with global culture as a marker of national identity, rather than their Chinese ethnicity, Li’s advice is misplaced.
The “global city” and Taiwanese migration patterns
Two things China can offer Taiwanese youth that Taiwan struggles to match are high level career opportunities and the theatrical lifestyle of the global city. The idea of the global city was first developed by John Friedmann (1986, p. 69) to characterise “the spatial
organisation of the new international division of labour” in connection with the global economy. Friedmann’s (1986) “world city” was defined through seven interrelated hypotheses that include its usage as a “basing point” for global capital, and its ability to attract large numbers of local and international migrants.
Saskia Sassen (1991; 2005) expanded on the concept through a series of books and articles, adding that the global city is “a nexus for new politico-cultural alignments” and a space where translocal communities and identities are formed (Sassen, 2005, p. 38). Taiwan’s capital Taipei may have once been considered a global city, but its discontinued support after the collapse of Taiwan’s developmental state regime leaves its status unsure (Wang, 2002). It has been surpassed by many Chinese cities in terms of development, and cities like Shanghai have become regional hubs for many small and large businesses (Zhang, 2017).
The appeal of the global city to young people lies not, however, in its location within a particular nation-state but the unique, transnational experience the city itself provides. Yen-Fen Tseng (2011) conducted research into the Taiwanese migrant experience in Shanghai. They found that the city’s appeal lies in its image as a cosmopolitan capital, its capacity to provide economic opportunities via structurally open links to the outside world, and its ability to facilitate the pursuit of a cosmopolitan lifestyle (Tseng, 2011, p. 780). Its “Chineseness” was never cited by subjects as an appealing factor. In fact, one interviewee emphasized that local Chinese were not yet adept enough in his discipline to work alongside him, (Tseng, 2011, p. 772) meaning he would make little contact with local Chinese in his professional
life. Furthermore, Tseng (2011) characterised the migrants as “hypermobile” because few expressed the desire to permanently settle in the city or within China itself. Even if the mainland has the ability to lure young Taiwanese, its capacity to retain them is questionable.
The existence of what is known as a “transnational capital class” has been extensively documented. These are individuals who are highly mobile, influential, and nationally and ideologically rootless in practice (Sklair, 2002; Favell, 2003). Skilled migrants in the global system create their own trans-borderal, post-national socialities through conducting social exchanges and establishing interpersonal relationships in global places (Kennedy, 2007). They wield “middle-class toolkits”, lack ties via kindred bonds to their home or host cities, and specialise in professional cultures that can be easily transported (Kennedy, 2007, p. 357). However, Sam Scott (2006) notes that skilled international migration is no longer confined to economic elites but has become a common, normalised middle-class activity. There now exists a number of categories to define migrants that range from young professionals to lifestyle migrants who simply want a piece of the cosmopolitan lifestyle (Scott, 2006).
While much research has been conducted into the experiences of mainland Chinese migration to Taiwan, significantly less exists on the reverse situation. Tse-Kang Leng (2002) documented the steady flow of small business to the mainland that began in the early 1990s, and was transformed in the 2000s by emergent China-based Taiwanese technology firms that recruited talent from both sides of the strait. This is when an international division of labour via skillset, rather than nationality, began to appear in the area. Financial instruments providing support and promoting start-up incubators—which are now rife throughout Chinese cities (Zhang, 2017)—further strengthened the interconnectedness between China and Taiwan (Leng, 2002).
This interconnectedness, driven by industry and bolstered by the state, began to attract a whole new wave of young Taiwanese professionals and students seeking better
opportunities. Since the early 2000s, China has continually opened up access to its higher education institutes for Taiwanese students via preferential policies. Starting in 2010,
Taiwanese students were able to use their test scores achieved in Taiwan to apply for Chinese universities. In 2013, they were incorporated into the basic medical insurance system for mainland residents (Zhao, 2015). In 2015, the number of Taiwanese students studying in the mainland leaped to 10,870 (Zhao, 2015). Despite this, research conducted by Pei-Chia Lan and Yi-Fan Wu (2016) suggests Taiwanese students utilise their exceptional membership status to “surf the waves of globalisation” via China’s growing economy. Rather than becoming integrated into local society, they use negotiation tactics to maintain their
Taiwanese identity, or are subsumed into the transnationalist migrant class. (Lan and Wu, 2016, pp. 756-758).
Elsewhere, Ping Lin (2011) conducted research into the return migration of
waishengren (descendants of the troops driven to Taiwan with the KMT in 1945). A lot of the subjects still had family connections on the mainland and so were more likely to interact with local Chinese on a day-to-day basis. What he found, however, was that these interactions illuminated cultural differences that had developed between the two nations, and further reinforced the idea among waishengren that they were not Chinese. The immigrants formed their own ethnic enclaves, participated in social activities almost exclusively with other Taiwanese, and overall expressed that they did not enjoy life in China. Though they indicated frustration with Taiwan’s anti-China policies, and felt they were regarded as “aliens” in mainstream political discourse, their move to China did not make them feel any more Chinese. Many began to self-identify as “not the Chinese Chinese” (Lin, 2011, p. 53).
If China is to act as an arena to facilitate integration, rather than a transitory space for mobile, skilled migrants, it needs to exert effort into actively engaging Taiwanese youth with the local population and mitigating any culture shock they might feel. Olga Seweryn (2007) divided the migration experience into three phases and believes successful integration rests on how well one navigates the liminal stage, where the individual feels deprived of the context on which their identity is based. Mechanisms must be in place to ensure the Taiwanese begin to adopt a Chinese identity, rather than a transnational one.
Unsuccessful socialisation into local culture can lead to aggressive and critical attitudes towards the host nation (Seweryn, 2007). If China is unsuccessful, young Taiwanese could leave the country feeling more assured of their own, exclusive national identity.
Research method
This project draws from ten separate interviews conducted with Taiwanese who live in China. The interview period lasted the months of May and June in 2018. Initial
interviewees were recruited through Chinese and Taiwanese contacts, and then further participants were recruited via snowballing. To minimise bias, referral chains were limited to two further people from each initial participant. Time and resource constraints meant it was not possible to conduct more interviews but, in accordance with the principles of saturation sampling, ten was deemed a sufficient amount, as responses to questions began to appear similar in their nature for the most part.
Each interview lasted between forty and ninety minutes and the majority were conducted in English, although parts of some were conducted in Mandarin Chinese depending on how best the interviewee felt they could express themselves. All Mandarin Chinese parts were translated by myself. The interviews were conducted and recorded largely over WeChat, but in some circumstances, Skype was used when the interviewee did not feel comfortable disclosing information over a Chinese messenger platform. Interviewees were all either students, recent graduates or young professionals in the outset of their careers. They were all between the ages of twenty-two and thirty-two, with two exceptions. One, thirty-five years old, was promoted to a regional management position based in Shanghai for a multi-national corporation, and had lived there for two years. The other, fifty-four, had lived in China since 2000 and worked in several occupations but now ran a non-profit organisation targeting microfinance. The rest of the participants had lived in China for varying amounts of time, but none shorter than six months.
The interviews were conducted in a semi-structured manner. This allowed for open responses, and for participants to use their own words to answer questions and explore them from as many angles as possible (Longhurst, 2003, p. 145). Interviewees were asked open-ended questions such as: “How would you describe your national identity and why?”, “How do you feel about China-Taiwan relations?”, “What were your first impressions of China and have they changed?” and “Tell me about some of your close friends”. In order to prevent political bias, I refrained from framing questions in a way that would set up sociological boundaries between China and Taiwan, and instead allowed interviewees to naturally divulge if and how their lives or political views had changed.
After the interview period concluded, each recording was transcribed in full at the discretion of the participants. The transcripts were then coded via a simple, by-hand process into several categories that would help provide the most accurate summation of the findings. While it is important to maintain nuance in data, overly-complex coding schemes can prove cognitively difficult for coders if they are required to keep track of too many categories at once. This can mean a greater chance for coding error (Campbell, 2013). At the request of some participants, interviewees will be referred to by numbers rather than names in order to preserve anonymity. A discussion section follows to summarise the discoveries, and
contextualise them in terms of prior theoretical works.
For many middle-class migrants to non-Chinese global megacities such as Paris or London, there are a plethora of reasons that motivate their movement. Sam Scott (2006) undertook a study on British middle-class migration to Paris and found their motives could be grouped into diverse categories such as “young professional”, “lifestyle migrant” and
“bohemian”. The complex political circumstances between China and Taiwan means less Taiwanese opt to move to China as part of a lifestyle choice. Many of the interviewees
expressed that growing up in Taiwan had led them to develop extremely negative impressions of the mainland. These were directed towards the character of the Chinese people,
environmental conditions and life under Communist Party rule. For some, such as
Interviewee #1, a twenty-two year old student who had moved to China with their parents eight years ago, family had shaped their perceptions:
My grandfather and uncle used to make a joke: ni zai bu ting hua wo jiu ba ni song dao dalu qu (If you are not a good boy, I will send you to the mainland). These things are in the minds of Taiwanese people: the mainland is poor, there is no food, you will die there…
Some had not fostered negative impressions, asserting that their first thoughts about China were its technological developments and the grandeur of its modern cities. However, even with these things in mind, none said that they moved to China in order to obtain a particular lifestyle. Motives could be divided into two categories: “exploration” and “career
development”.
Migration as exploration
Three interviewees characterized their move to China as a desire to see new lands, meet new people and absorb different influences and perspectives. Although these interviewees acknowledged the benefits China offers in terms of job prospects, its allure as a foreign land was their primary incentive. However, the available opportunities, as well as the shared language did make the decision easier. Interviewee #9, an e-Commerce Consultant in Shanghai, expressed:
I felt like I wanted to see something different, so I decided to move somewhere. A lot of people my age want to go to the United States but it’s very hard to find a job there, so I thought China would be easier.
Interviewee #10, who runs a microfinance NGO in Beijing, wanted to explore the differences between China and Taiwan specifically:
I was just interested in the differences between Mainland China and Taiwan. My big brother gave me a job and said, “Do what you want to do, come to my resort and explore whatever you want to explore”
Migration for career development
The other seven interviewees said that China provides a means to a better future via higher paying jobs and career development prospects. Many of them had visited China before which influenced their decision on where to relocate to. Interviewee #6, a finance student in Beijing had a previous exchange experience at Beijing University:
I want to become an expert in finance and I want to stay in Asia so I choose to move to a more international city. I could choose maybe Singapore, Hong Kong, Shanghai, but because of my exchange experience, I think Beijing is suitable because I have some friends here.
For those living in Shanghai, it was life at the access point to a global capital market that either motivated or necessitated their decision. They believed the city and the opportunities it provides encourage both career and personal development. Interviewee #4, a student in Shanghai who moved with parents many years ago, wants to remain there so they “have space to grow”, and believes the city provides them with “something that [they] can learn”. Interviewee #3, the APEC manager of a large international firm, had to relocate to Shanghai to receive a promotion. Interviewee #9 migrated after witnessing the successes of a friend:
I had a friend who recommended that I come to China. She’s been working in China for 2 years at that time and she’s quite ambitious and thinks China is a very good place for young adults for career development. Which is true, I feel so.
As with all forms of transnational migration, there were a number of “push” factors, as well as “pull” factors (Soja, 2000) that encouraged the informants’ decisions. Several felt there was a sense of inevitability about their move. Interviewee #7 commented that, “the
work environment in Taiwan is not friendly to young people”. For interviewee #2, a screenwriter and film producer in Beijing, remaining in Taiwan, or even in the U.S. would mean giving up their dream job:
For me, I wanted to make movies and the only place I could do that was in China. The film industry in Taiwan was kind of bad so I didn’t have a choice. In China, because I did [one] movie, I can now be an independent screenwriter and I don’t have to worry about not having a job. That’s why I could do a commercial film and then do what I want but I could not imagine doing that in the States, at least not within ten or fifteen years.
Few interviewees said they came to or remained in China because of direct incentives provided by the state or a state-run organisation. One participant, a former student in Shenzhen, was encouraged by the special scholarship offered to Hong Kong, Macao and Taiwan-born students. Two others felt that the university admission process was much easier for them as Taiwanese students and suggested that they could more easily be accepted into elite institutions in China. None of the interviewees characterised their move to China as a “return to their ancestral homeland” like the waishengren did in Ping Lin’s (2011) study and many Singaporeans did in a separate study conducted by Yeoh and Willis (2005). They, instead, portrayed migration to China as a fresh experience in a new country, much as British “Culturalist” expatriats did in Yeoh and Willis’ (2005) study.
Life in China: opportunity and escape
Interviewees viewed China as a place of limitless possibility, where their grand ambitions could finally be met. It was characterised both in terms of its development and its people as future-oriented. All but one interviewee (who lived in Chongqing) lived in either Beijing, Shanghai or Shenzhen which according to Timberlake et al. (2014) are “global cities”. This is important, as global cities operate at the intersection between the international market economy and the domestic state, usually offering a different experience than life in smaller, less internationally-oriented places. In some ways, the informants’ responses were emblematic of the modern citizen, relating “fragmented moments to a larger direction of progress” (Hannigan, 2005, p. 63). In other ways, their self-reflection upon encounters with progressive technology and intercultural spaces were characteristically post-modern. Overall, life in China allowed them to see the bigger picture and paint with more colours than life in
Taiwan did, and this encouraged self-reflection and a different outlook on their home country.
China as a place for ambition
Half of the interviewees characterized China as a place where they could not only learn more, engage in new experiences and fully realise their own potential, but also be in the company of others on the path to doing so. These others consisted of both young mainland Chinese and international citizens. They thus associated China with success and achievement. Interviewee #7, a financial trader who moved to Shenzhen of their own accord, proclaimed that they “came to the mainland with a clear purpose, to do something big, to learn things, to play a bigger game”. They also commented that people in Shenzhen always seemed to be busy striving to make their lives better, and reflected that the Chinese are some of the most hardworking and intelligent people they had encountered. They said they worked long hours but got paid what they deserved, which is something not many people in Taiwan did.
Interviewee #2 lamented the lack of cultural activities in Beijing but lauded the
opportunities it gave them. As a screenwriter educated in the U.S., they were able to utilise their experiences to bring a fresh perspective to an emerging market. They mentioned that after Taiwan had entered into agreement with the World Trade Organisation, it lifted quotas on foreign film imports which have flooded the market since. Only Taiwanese movies depicting local life and culture gain traction and thus working in Taiwan would hinder their creative ability. Being able to fulfil their career goals was the most important factor in choosing a place to live:
I still love Beijing more than Taipei because in Beijing it’s where I can realise my dreams. This is the place I want to be even though there are a few things not that satisfying. Even if you let me choose between Beijing and New York, I would still choose Beijing.
Interviewee #9 works for a company founded by a young French expat that translates the names of other corporations. They used this example to express the breadth of opportunities available to young people in Shanghai. Even seemingly inconsequential tasks could be transformed into profit-turning businesses, and this notion inspired them to think more entrepreneurially themselves. Part of what characterized life in Shanghai was the feeling of
being in constant competition, which influenced them to strive for growth in their “mind”, “salary” and “assets”. They claimed that they now “want to be a winner”.
Many interviewees exhibited traits emblematic of the emerging “New Shanghainese” identity; a term used to refer to a class of cosmopolitan migrants living and working in Shanghai (Huang, 2006). The identity confers an elite status to migrants from other parts of China and elsewhere that sit near the top of the new international division of labour. By portraying Beijing, Shanghai and Shenzhen as cities of the ambitious, the informants reified their identity within this transnational class.
Living out the “fantasy city” cosmopolitan experience
Life in China tended to be described as “fast”, both in terms of how cities developed and how people moved and worked. One of the things several informants said they enjoyed most about life in China is the technology and convenience this brings to daily life. One said that life was becoming “easier and easier each day” and much quicker due to technologies like mobile pay apps. Super high-speed internet also made life extremely “comfortable”. For interviewee #8, the image of Shanghai city itself left the biggest impression:
I was shocked. It’s one of the most blinging cities I’ve ever seen. Even though I’ve been to New York, it’s a newer city, and everything is new and tall and shiny. I thought, “Wow! This place is not how I imagined.”
The seductive forces of new technology and the production of spectacles are distinctive features of what John Hannigan calls the post-modern “fantasy city”. High-rise buildings at the forefront of a city’s image create an illusion that is so attractive precisely because it masks the inequalities that lay below (Hannigan, 2005).
Respondents in Shanghai also cited the “internationality” of the city as something they enjoyed most. The three interviewees that lived there lauded its ability to allow them to absorb many different “international perspectives”, interact with people of many different nationalities and eat different kinds of food from around the world. Interviewee #1 explained that many Taiwanese people they knew in Shanghai were extremely satisfied with the good money they earned and the ability they had to eat at nice restaurants every day. For
Interviewee #3, a regional manager of a transnational corporation, Shanghai provided access to a wealth of international culture unavailable at other places:
Shanghai is very large and also because it is a world-class city, in terms of development, so there are a lot of jazz clubs and world class exhibitions because I love art very much, there are many more museums here and the world-famous singers will perform here but not in Taiwan because Taiwan is relatively small.
For some who lived in other cities however, the experience felt much less culturally enriching. Although Beijing may be a global city, it does not have the same illusive effects as Shanghai. Interviewee #6 expressed that the city’s infrastructure was not as they imagined. They noticed inequality gaps very quickly and said the disparities between the new, soaring skyscrapers and old hovels and alleyways were very apparent. Interviewee #2 said they were a little dismayed by the impersonality of the city, also expressing there was no particular corner or neighbourhood of the city they felt attached to. The two respondents working in Shenzhen made similar comment, with Interviewee #5, a transport planner, drawing a direct comparison to Shanghai:
Shenzhen always says it’s a well-developed city but it’s not as advanced as I though before because it’s hardware is good, that’s true, but most people come from rural areas. I think Shanghai is more international.
This shows that the daily experiences that characterise life in China can be different for Taiwanese migrants depending on where they live. Literature on global cities tends to
overgeneralise. Shanghai has more of a capacity to provide the “fantasy city” experience that might appear attractive to some, whereas migrants to other places may find their careers are the only focal point of their existence within the country.
Taiwan as a place left behind
Their experiences in China led interviewees to reflect back on Taiwan. Most expressed that they felt Taiwan had not developed for a long time and this has left younger generations with a lack of hope about future prospects. Interviewee #10, who moved to Beijing in 2000, went as far to suggest that there was no possibility for recovery in Taiwan:
The most serious problem in Taiwan is there is no future right now. I was so surprised, I haven’t heard such a clear message before the end of last year when I returned home, this time tens of people told me: Taiwan wan le (Taiwan is finished).
These sentiments were evident in the behaviours of Taiwanese people. While interviewees described the Chinese as fast-paced, with a “fighting spirit”, they tended to describe
Taiwanese people in Taiwan as slow, unambitious, and a little lifeless. Some particular habits that two had noticed were that, while riding the subway, Taiwanese people would lean
against doors and look exhausted, whereas Chinese people tended to look happy and talk to each other. Interviewee #8 commented:
You can just tell the difference. One city they have a lot of hope and they are moving forwards and the other [Taipei], people are just working, they don’t have prospects.
Interviewee #4, a Japanese Studies student in Shanghai who had been recently accepted into a job role there upon graduation, commented that Taiwanese people tend not to see the bigger picture. Their reason for leaving was that they felt confined in the country. They suggested Taiwanese were not internationally-minded and did not tend to pay attention to things happening outside the island’s borders. Interviewee #6 said that Taiwanese “just want to follow a path that has been established for a long time” but implied this could not be helped because of Taiwan’s status in international politics. Interviewee #10 suggested that Taiwanese had “no hope in tomorrow; in the future of Taiwan”. Interviewee #9 suggested Taiwanese are contented with simple pleasures:
Some of my friends moved back and they are okay with xiao que xin, the little happiness. You feel happy by really tiny things. But also people living in his environment, they are not ambitious, they just think, “my life is okay as it is”
Such descriptions starkly contrasted with how informants viewed China. As well as describing the general pace of life as much faster, respondents suggested people in China have more vigour and drive. For Interviewee #4, not only did people in Shanghai physically move quicker, but they cognitively looked further ahead. One informant described people as more “passionate” in China, suggesting they have more of a sense of drive and purpose in their interactions. Interviewee #9 suggested the pace at which life is conducted in China is
tinged with an anxious optimistic about the future and that Chinese think more about personal development:
In China I feel a lot of young people think, “how can I make a difference?” If I’m learning, I’m working in some company they will come up with questions like, “How can I benefit from this company?” Then they will found their own company and make more money.
Several participants commented that the pace of life and the behavior of the people around them had affected their own thought processes and the way they conducted themselves. Interviewee #9, for example, felt that life in Shanghai had made them more competitive and conscious of their own reputation among peers. Interviewee #5 reflected on their own behavior:
In China I have more Chinese friends than Taiwanese friends. I think I need more Chinese friends to learn about the customs and culture here—like I said, if they really want something they will really work hard and these are my shortcomings, because I’m not so proactive.
National identity: renegotiation in a “contact zone”
Despite having a relatively negative outlook on Taiwan as a place after living in China for an extended period of time, this did not change the way any interviewees felt about their national identity. The majority, before entering China, identified exclusively as
“Taiwanese” and still did so at the time of the interview. Similar to the Taiwanese student migrants in Lan and Wu’s (2016) study, the interviewees encountered a “contact zone” for the negotiation of their national identity, which ended up reinforcing it. Mary Louise Pratt (1992, p. 7) defines the contact zone as, “an attempt to invoke the spatial and temporal copresence of subjects previously separated by geographical and historical junctures”. The invocation of this copresence made the interviewees aware of how different they were. They then engaged in practices that further distanced them from the Chinese. These practises can be discussed under three headings: in-group and out-group nationalism, historical
In-group and out-group nationalism
In-group and out-group nationalism is the construction of a cognitive barrier between oneself and one’s people and the outside. In psychological theory, the in-group are those to whom one feels they owe loyalty; usually family members, close friends or national
compatriots, depending on the context (Neiger and Rimmer-Tsory, 2012). The out-group is defined as “a social group of which individuals have a stereotypically negative image, towards which they feel animosity, and which they perceive as inferior, unstable and
aggressive” (Neiger and Rimmer-Tsory, 2012, p. 724). Interaction with Chinese peers caused the interviewees to invoke categorical separations between themselves and the Chinese people at large.
The first kind of separation became apparent in informants’ use oppositional deixis when answering questions. They used “we” when referring to themselves and the Taiwanese population, and “they” when talking about the Chinese. This is demonstrative of the already well-acknowledged cognitive dissonance between what China and Taiwan consider the nation. China (at least in official rhetoric) uses “we” to describe the people of both China and Taiwan (Xi, 2017). Not one interviewee used “we” to refer to themselves and Chinese peers as part of the same group, unless discussing everyday activities with friends, for example.
As well as this, observed customs and behaviours became markers of both cultural and moral difference that fundamentally separated the Taiwanese and Chinese people. They were expressed through four categorical dichotomies:
Taiwanese as altruistic vs. Chinese as opportunistic
Interviewees characterized the Chinese as deceitful and money hungry. Some felt that the Chinese placed money above all else including respect for the law, loyalty to friends and honesty among peers and colleagues. Some informants expressed that they felt Chinese people were always bluffing and exaggerating their money and assets in order to gain respect from their peers. In contrast, they emphasized that when Taiwanese exhibited entrepreneurial spirit, it is done so in a less morally-corrupted way:
People in China are more interested in real daily life, in making money or getting famous, more superficial things like being very successful. And there is nothing more important than making huge amounts of money. I think because they were too poor twenty or thirty years ago they
think earning money is more important than being a good person. I think they put money before anything else, any good spirit or morals. But Taiwanese are not like that. We like to earn money, but we like to earn it in the right way.
As well as this, they were characterized as obsessed with their personal reputation,
something which informants felt was gleaned from having money and power in China, rather than being a respectful and honest person:
They take something not because of their personality or ability, some because of their
relationship. They establish good relationships in order to gain some powers or privilege. If my classmate is a rich person and I’m friends with him, maybe his father or family can refer me to a good company. It works in China. People will try to connect to celebrities or rich people to gain privileges.
One interviewee expressed that, rather than share ideas and experiences with those needing help, Chinese co-students would retain their knowledge to give them a competitive advantage, and only help out those to whom they could benefit from. They found that these attitudes were also reflected in institutions:
In Taiwan, the professors don’t really care about how much you can earn after you graduate. They care about your grades and if you can tell the truth—what is right and what is wrong… in Beijing a lot of top universities just care about the rank, their money, and hope after you graduate you can donate to the school. They don’t care about humanity and welfare.
Taiwanese as civil vs. Chinese as uncouth
Informants used words and description that depicted Chinese people as uncivilized, and reinforced this by contrasting them with Taiwanese people who they characterized as civil, polite and respectful. Petty issues like personal hygiene and habits acted as a marker of distinction for interviewees #4 and #6 respectively:
When I walked into my community area, there was a person eating seeds and spitting them out on the floor and also spitting on the floor. It’s quite different from Taiwan. My first impression is very bad and I don’t like Chinese people until now. They are not polite, and they don’t think of others and they cannot queue.
Sanitary consciousness in the school is not so good. When you go to the toilet, you will think: ‘why didn’t they flush the toilet?’ It’s disgusting and I think, wow these students are excellent but they don’t do it, why?”
Chinese were also characterised as abrasive and inconsiderate. Those who were students discussed how it was normal for Chinese students to copy each other’s work, either unaware or uncaring of the consequences. They also implied Chinese had a fundamental disrespect for the environment and spoke about Chinese always littering. While they emphasized that matters in Taiwan are usually dealt with amicably, taking into consideration the best outcome for all parties involved, they explained that Chinese tend to think only of themselves.
Interviewees #10, #7 and #2 respectively commented:
Maybe because China has too many people, so the ways of thinking is rough. The way of dealing with things is rough. Taiwanese are more detailed and considerate…just not that close.
I have one roommate from Dongbei and she doesn’t care about the little things. I think it is very different. Sometimes they don’t care about what you think, just about what they think and say it directly.
The people on the street, for example, we have to fight for cabs, people spit, a lot of people bump into you. To be honest, for me still, I feel that a lot of people are very rude.
Taiwanese as harboring community spirit vs. Chinese as detached
Many informants expressed they felt at a distance in China, but not just personally due to an explicit cultural difference; they felt that generally, there was less unity among the Chinese people. Taiwanese people, on the other hand, were said to be more integrated and cooperative, with there being much more of a community spirit among them. This clash caused the interviewees to feel remote, and in some cases unhappy, in their surroundings. Some reported that in China, people tended less to greet each other which amplified the social distance. Some characterized the Chinese as “cold” to both each other and outsiders. Taiwanese were described as being more hospitable by interviewees #9 and #1:
to say, “it’s not my business, I’m not in charge of that, ask someone else, it’s not my fault”. So, I think the working spirit is very different from Taiwanese people.
With my sister and Taiwan friends we can share the sadness, the things we want to talk about. In mainland they keep it in their hearts and they go through the pain and sadness by themselves. It’s not a bad thing but for me, Hong Kong, and Macao students, we cannot talk with each other or become really close friends.
This was further reflected in the lack of community activity that took place. While informants from Shanghai praised the wealth of cultural activities that were available, these tended to bring people together based on interest rather than a sense of companionship with fellow compatriots. One informant in Beijing expressed this sentiment through what they felt was a lack of the idea of “citizenship” in comparison to Taiwan:
In Beijing they don’t have the concept of citizens, it’s a place for middle class to work but most came from different provinces, so they don’t have big connections to do something with each other. It’s just a place to earn money and be rich. In Taipei, there are a lot of people from different cities but because its politically more open, people feel more united, for example people organize community events and activities like picnics or music performances in the park or mobilise people to protest certain things, but in China only some rich people, celebrities or politicians family have right to do something. Most people just care about themselves. In Taiwan, a lot of people volunteer to donate money or other things but in Beijing, for example, if there was a blood donation truck, people wouldn’t encourage each other to go. Beijing feels a little more impersonal and detached.
Historical differentiation
Rather than characterizing the Chinese as fundamentally “different” or “other”,
interviewees suggested that differences in customs, behaviors and morals could be explained by historical events. These events were given such significance that they erased former bonds that the peoples shared and constituted new identities for each. One of these historical events discussed was the Cultural Revolution in China. One interviewee suggested that people were so poor during this time that they had to put themselves and their family before anyone else in order to survive. This was used by Interviewee #8 as an explanation for some of the more brash and “uncivilized” behaviours:
There are a lot of things like the cultural revolution which created a gap and destroyed a lot of things, and it kind of effects people from generation to generation. For example, you can see kinds peeing on the street, but you would never see that in Taiwan, as their parents allow them to do that and it’s their parents’ parents teaching them.
It was a consensus among most that modes of behavior were inherited in China; passed down from generation to generation. Some of these included citizens being encouraged to report “transgressors” to authorities during the Cultural Revolution, which Interviewee #9 believes even now causes suspicion and a lack of unity within Chinese communities:
Shanghainese, we are kind of afraid of them, especially for those people who are 50ish because… I’ve summarized this and I think maybe because they came from the cultural revolution time and at that time you have to fight very hard. And you will report if your
neighbor or even your father did something not benefitting the party so I think the trust between people is low. Not even the trust, I would say they’re so used to fighting and being loud, they’re very rude, and if they want anything they will grab it. Which, for me, it’s hard for me to take it.
One interviewee suggested that since China is still a dictatorship, Chinese people have not been given the space and opportunities to evolve and shake off a lot of their “negative” habits. For one informant, China’s One Child Policy had encouraged generations of selfish behavior because people “never learned to share”. Several interviewees suggested the country’s lack of development in many rural areas, and only recent economic prosperity could explain difference between the Chinese and Taiwanese. Interviewees #1 and #2 respectively commented:
I think because they were too poor twenty or thirty years ago they think earning money is more important than being a good person.
I think culture is only the same when it comes to very subtle stuff such as Chinese New Year or the notion of filial piety. But Taiwan and mainland China have been separated for almost seventy years, almost three generations. People have faced different lives and we’re in different stages of economic [growth] so we’re not 100 percent the same. China is so big, so even in the north and south they are different. But I feel that’s not the issue here. I think even if you can prove we’re the same the barriers we all hold will not vanish.
Similar to how former Taiwanese president Chen Shui-bien tried to situate the nation during his time in office (DeLisle, 2010), some interviewees commented that Taiwan’s early interactions with Western nations had impacted their development. Two interviewees suggest that Taiwanese are “more polite to people” than Chinese because they were colonized by Japan.
Tactical deflection
Many interviewees had mixed groups of friends and found that it was just as easy to become close to Chinese people as it were Taiwanese. However, many also felt particularly guarded when interacting with Chinese people. Interviewee #6 felt this was because of self-censorship by the Chinese:
Most of my close [friends] are almost all Taiwanese. We are close because we share the same experiences, so we can chat and have conversations freely. [The Chinese] may want to share ideas with you but you will feel cautious because their customs don’t permit them to talk about certain thing. So these obstacles prohibit you from maintaining a good conversation with them.
However, others expressed that the ways in which they interacted with Taiwanese and Chinese were different due to the tension created by nature of their identity. The majority of informants said that upon discovering they were Taiwanese, Chinese peers would immediately ask them their opinions on unification and whether they considered Taiwan to be a part of China or not. This caused Interviewee #5 to adjust the way they speak in order to try and conceal their identity:
In China, maybe I have changed the habit of talking… words, accent sometimes. When I’m here I try to talk more like them because I don’t like them instantly recognizing that I’m Taiwanese. Because they will ask me questions. If I don’t need to say I’m Taiwanese then I won’t.
This is a practice that I have named “tactical deflection” and in various ways was utilised by most informants. In Olga Seweryn’s (2007, p. 28) discussion of the phases transnational migrants go through when encountering a new culture, the author explains that in order for the migrant to reach the third and final stage of “adaption”, they must have the tools to
negotiate culture shock. Questioning the identity and allegiances of migrants who, although may have been prepared for it, previously took these things for granted creates a shock. Interviewees felt that they were unable to discuss politics or cross-strait relationship in any meaningful way with the Chinese. Because of this, they would usually either deflect the questions or answer in a way they felt would appease the questioner, as interviewees #3 and #4 respectively explained:
I never talk about politics with my Chinese friends. And every time they express their political statement, I will say, “okay”. I won’t say “no” to them because I don’t want to debate. Most of my Chinese friends think Taiwan still belongs to China, but actually I don’t think so, and I don’t think it’s necessary to debate with them because it’s not up to us to determine.
I still identify myself as Taiwanese, I don’t want to pretend I’m Chinese. I will not say, “hey! I’m Taiwanese” too much but they can tell by my accent. When they say, “hey! You’re from Taiwan,” I say, “Yes I’m from Taiwan and Taiwan is small but very beautiful, I love Taiwan, if you like it you can go to Taipei” etc.
Politics and unification: Taiwan is still Taiwan
Most interviewees expressed disinterest in politics and suggested when choosing political candidates, they focused more on their attitudes towards domestic or larger international affairs than cross-strait relations. Some could not remember the last time they voted, and the majority made no extra effort to go back to Taiwan in order to vote in local or presidential elections. When questioned about their last voting experience, interviewees expressed they generally voted for a mixture of DPP and KMT candidates dependent on their policy platforms at the time, or on how well they felt a candidate could govern the nation. There were only two exceptions: one candidate who suggested that “every vote is like a bet” but the most important thing is “not to be unified to China”. The other candidate had attended the Sunflower Movement protests just before migrating to China. However, generally informants attitudes to cross-strait relations were not dependent on alignment with a particular political party, but how they felt about their own national identity. Interviewees #6 and #4 respectively commented:
I feel I’m Taiwanese… so imagine if America unified with the UK? We have our pride, I feel so. Even though we’re weak now I still don’t want to be unified. We’re Taiwanese; we’re not Japanese, we’re not Chinese… Ethnically I’m Chinese, yes, but as for my self-recognition, I don’t think I’m Chinese.
I wouldn’t like it to happen because Taiwan has been apart from China for many years and people in Taiwan, the culture, our lives are very different from China.
Several interviewees used China’s domestic politics as a reference point to ascertain their opinion on why a Chinese takeover would be bad for Taiwan. The fact that ideology plays a key point in why unification should not happen was exemplified by one respondent
expressing that, if China was willing to become democratic, they did not think unification would be a bad thing. This included highlighting that Taiwan would lose its democracy, and that the CCP had a “dark history”. Several also used Hong Kong as a reference point for Taiwan’s situation. One suggested apprehension at a Chinese takeover due to people being “less free” in Hong Kong now. Interviewee #1 explained that unification was unnecessary as the Taiwanese and Chinese would still be different people, just like in Hong Kong:
You can see Hong Kong today. Although it belongs to China, if you have ever been there you can find that things are different in daily life and in the minds of people. Even though they are one country.
Three respondents expressed ambivalence towards unification, largely because they saw it as an inevitability. One suggested that defense against a Chinese invasion would be too costly for Taiwan and therefore their time would be best spent thinking about how they could
protect themselves rather than the integrity of the nation. Another expressed that they would rather a timetable be worked out for a friendly acquisition than send people to die for the cause. Only interviewee #8 viewed acquisition with a more positive outlook as they believed it could afford Taiwan renewed economic prosperity, and thus facilitate their return:
I think people from Taiwan will not be happy about it but it’s inevitable. It’s a complex, complex thing. Economically, I would be very, very happy. To be honest, I would just go back to Taiwan because there would be so many opportunities.
