Walking In The Footsteps of His Mentor

More than just being able to discern the benign intentions in the words and deeds of former Taiwanese leader Lee Teng-hui, Richard C. Bush was also able to discern likewise in similar deeds of current Taiwanese President Chen Shui-bian.

Speaking to an audience of overseas Taiwanese supporters in August 2002, Chen created doubts among many when he noted that "Taiwan is our country, and our country cannot be bullied, downgraded, marginalized, nor treated as a local government. Taiwan is not a part of any other country, nor is it a local government or province of another country. Taiwan can never be another Hong Kong or Macau because Taiwan has always been a sovereign state. In short, Taiwan and China are standing on opposite sides of the strait, there is one country on each side (yibian yiguo - 一边一国). This should be clear."

Even as Bush acknowledged that Chen's words evoked memories of Lee Teng-hui's special state-to-state formulation, he argued that Chen's rejection of subordination to another authority and his specific focus on Hong Kong and Macau as the negative point of reference "were not inconsistent with Taiwan's past position."

Bush added: "To say that China and Taiwan were each countries were no doubt offensive to Beijing, but it did not in and of itself rule out certain kinds of national union, although it did rule out the one-country, two-systems arrangement."

But at least Bush concurred that the damage was done, and that Chen's comments had dashed the hopes of those in China who may have held a slender hope that he would not test Beijing's tolerance. Chen's statement also reconfirmed the beliefs of those who thought he could not be trusted.

Why the Malaise in Taiwan Politics

I do not wish to give the impression that Richard C. Bush's book was an entirely one-dimensional portrayal of former Taiwanese President Lee Teng-hui.

After all, there were other interesting elements in the book as well - such as why politics in Taiwan is often militant and contentious.

For instance, Bush noted that current President Chen Shui-bian had not expected to win in the presidential elections in March 2000 as Chen's goal "had been only to do well in the election as a trial run for 2004." Consequently, Chen made no plans for a transition of government.

Furthermore, the ruling Democratic People's Party (DPP) lacked the personnel, in terms of both numbers and executive talent, to run a complex government like Taiwan's.

And besides, over the years, the DPP had also perfected the skills of criticizing and obstructing the government as part of its strategy for gaining power, "but its leaders were unprepared for being in the hot seat themselves - for having the responsibility for developing a policy agenda, winning public and parliamentary support for it, and implementing related programs."

"To make matters worse", Bush wrote, "the KMT and the People's First Party (PFP), which James Soong formed after the 2000 election, refused to give the DPP a honeymoon and were relentless in their criticism of it."

As Bush concluded, the DPP was slow to learn how to be the ruling party, and the KMT and the PFP were slow to learn how to be the opposition.

Taiwan Has Global Political Significance?

Still on Richard C. Bush's book and Lee Teng-hui, but this time it is not about Bush's somewhat one-dimensional portrayal of Lee, as I think I have made that point abundantly clear in earlier entries.

Rather, this entry is about why it is so easy for the Chinese to dislike the former Taiwanese President.

For instance, Lee had noted during his visit to Cornell in 1995 that "Taiwan had global political significance", adding that "Taiwan's experience of democratization should serve as an example for the rest of the world and particularly for China."

Lee made the claim, in the view of Bush, "to secure the moral high ground for Taiwan and to reject the idea that the PRC was on the right side of history."

Indeed, in Lee's mind, "Taiwan was not just a part of China; it was the best part of China."

I imagined that those very words were uttered by Lee with a contemptuous air, and with very little regard for cultural sensitivities. More than just sounding arrogant, Lee's remarks bordered on obnoxiousness, as far as the sentiments of mainland Chinese were concerned.

Why Lee Teng-hui Visited Cornell in 1995

Still on Richard C. Bush's book on Taiwan.

On why Lee Teng-hui visited Cornell University in 1995, Bush reasoned that Lee pursued the visit because the then Taiwanese President was frustrated that Beijing had been unresponsive to his approach on reunification and wanted "to improve his bargaining power and political position at home."

But Bush also concurred that the Taipei government aggravated the situation by creating the impression in Washington and Beijing that the focus of Lee's remarks in Cornell would be his Cornell years and Taiwan's economic reforms.

But as it turned out, that was not the case. As Bush pointed out: "In fact, the speech had an overtly political character, and both the United States and China felt betrayed."

Even as Bush acknowledged that what Lee had done "certainly did nothing to endear him to either Washington or Beijing", he nevertheless argued that the content of Lee's speech does not justify the conclusion that Lee was engaged in a separatist project.

Oh well. So Lee is a separatist only in form, but not in substance. No wonder Beijing is befuddled.

More Defense of Lee Teng-hui

More on Bush's defense of Lee Teng-hui from my previous entry.

In his book, Bush argued that Lee's suggestion of a "two nations theory" (liangguo lun, 两国论) in 1999 was largely "consistent with Taiwan's long-standing rejection of the one-country, two-systems formula, which, in Taiwan's view, assigned subordinate status to special administrative regions."

Bush noted that it was reasonable to conclude that "Lee was making explicit what had been implicit in Taipei's position for almost a decade: that the government of Taiwan possessed sovereignty, just as the Beijing government did."

Bush also argued that Lee was challenging not the status quo itself, but rather the idea that Beijing's relationship to Taipei was one "between a legitimate government and a rebellion group, or between central and local governments."

While Bush's argument may seem fairly logical, I think Bush had largely overlooked the cultural nuance of Lee's statement. While it may be true that Lee had not changed his thinking fundamentally by making known the "two nations theory" in 1999, and that Lee was merely making explicit what had been implicitly known for a long time, the very act of turning something implicit into something explicit was certainly cause for concern.

Come to think of it, it may not be even be entirely right to ascribe cultural undertones to Lee's 1999 statement. In every culture or even within non-cultural contexts, it is natural for eye brows to be raised when someone makes explicit something that had all along been implicit.

Why was it so hard for Bush to see that? But then of course, we have to understand that the central tenet of his book was to defend Lee in a most spirited, vigorous and robust manner.

Richard C. Bush - A Lee Teng-hui Sympathizer

If anyone needed a sympathetic account of Lee Teng-hui, he/she need look no further than Richard C. Bush's book titled Untying the Knot Making Peace in the Taiwan Strait.

In the book, Bush made it clear that Lee was not a separatist and that the former Taiwan President had benign intentions in moves which Beijing interpreted as largely calculative, if not devious.

For instance, Bush argued that Lee's attempt in seeking more international space was linked to the need to forge a stronger Taiwanese national identity, as Lee had argued that "if Taiwan's identity is not completely clear to its people, how can we deal with mainland China?"

This need to give the island a stronger bargaining position vis-a-vis China, according to Bush, was the reason why Lee had tried to revise textbooks and reopen cases of the then ruling Nationalist Party's repression of the Taiwanese people in 1949, as well as making it clear that the people of Taiwan shared a common fate.

In another example cited by Bush, Lee reportedly did not have questionable intentions when he compared himself to Moses, a claim which suggested that he was going to lead the people of Taiwan out of China.

In his defence of Lee, Bush noted that Lee's remarks had been exaggerated by Beijing, adding that even though there was a change in Lee's tone, it did not represent a new direction in Lee's substantive thinking.

Bush added: "(Lee) saw himself as leading the people of Taiwan out of past repression, not out of China ... those in China wanted to see the worst in his intentions and did not bother to read carefully."

The rest of Bush's book were interspersed with similar defences of Lee and while Bush's approach was refreshing initially, it becomes predictable, one-sided and even tiresome after a while.

Hong Kong Movies

According to critic Geoffrey O'Brien, Hong Kong has the distinction of being one of the few places left in the world where its population prefers its own movies as compared to its American equivalent.

O'Brien noted that the territory "makes the most raucous and least contemplative movies on the planet" adding that "hopping ghosts, cart-wheeling comedians, heroines who sing and fire machine guns with equal flair, vampires kept at bay by chicken blood and sticky rice, passionate gangsters caught up in ruthless dynastic struggles, martial arts masters who set off cascades of special effects at the least flourish of their fingers: the hyperactive characters who inhabit Hong Kong cinema make the energy level of Hollywood types like Kevin Costner and Bruce Willis seem tepid by comparison."

An excellent summary of Hong Kong movies. I could not have said it any better.

A Chinese Poem - Was it by Li Qingzhao?

风住尘香花已尽,
日晚倦梳头,
物似人非事事休,
欲语泪先流.
闻说双溪春尚好,
也拟泛轻舟,
只恐双溪蚱蜢舟,
载不动许多愁.

This is Dedicated to the ECP

This is the final weekend of the examination season and my mind is flooded with all kinds of relevant and irrelevant factual information, and inundated with questions I have answers for, and countless other questions that I have no answers for.

So I guess it is time to take a day off from blogging my usual stuff, and instead dedicate today's entry to the Enlightened Chauvinist Pig (ECP) who took me out for a samgyupsal (Korean barbecued pork) dinner last night.

Hmm, pig and pork. Was there some kind of bizarre cannibalism going on last night?

The Robert Reynolds Case

More on the anti-U.S. protests that I mentioned in my entry a few days ago, specifically the case involving the killing of a Taiwanese by U.S. Army Sergeant Robert Reynolds.

According to further sources that I recently came upon, it seems that there is more to it than meets the eye.

To recap, Reynolds killed Liu Tze-jan in May 1975 outside his (Reynolds') house claiming that he saw Liu peering through the window at his disrobed wife, and feared that Liu was planning an attack.

But according to other reports which surfaced later, Reynolds and Liu apparently knew each other. Indeed, Reynolds had reportedly entrusted Liu on several occasions to resell PX products taken from his barrack.

Reports also indicated that Liu was well aware that Reynolds would be charged and sent back to the United States if the latter were caught reselling military products. Hence Liu reportedly took advantage of the situation to give himself a bigger share of the profits. This naturally angered Reynolds, and was said to have been one of the main reasons why he killed Liu.

Anyway, the long and short of it was that the incident had been exploited by the then Taiwanese leadership who had deliberately allowed anti-U.S. sentiment to get out of control.

University of Hong Kong

I once lived at one of the hostels at the University of Hong Kong so it was interesting to read that one of the main motives for re-establishing the University in the immediate post-war period was "the promotion of British culture, British prestige, and British interests ... in the face of growing U.S. influence."

After all, according to Rudyard Kipling in 1898, Hong Kong was said to be "dressed by America, from the haircutters' saloons to the liquor bars with the bordello girls all speaking with American accents." (Nancy Bernkopf Tucker, Taiwan, Hong Kong, and the United States, 1945 - 1992, Uncertain Friendships)

I cannot be sure if the promotion of all things British had been entirely a success. But one of the deepest impressions I carried with me after one year of living in Hong Kong years ago was the crisp British accents spouted by many of the territory's elites and officials such as Martin Lee (李柱铭), Emily Lau (刘慧卿), Christine Loh (陆恭蕙), Anson Chan (陈方安生), Lee Cheuk Yan (李卓人) and so on.

Chinese Writer Zhang Ailing and Pre-revolution Shanghai

Works by renowned Chinese writer Zhang Ailing's (张爱玲) in the 1940s and 1950s had a great influence on many other Chinese writers - whether elite or popular genres - and her literary style had frequently been imitated over the past few decades.

Zhang's writings were mainly cast in pre-revolution Shanghai, and her concept had been reincarnated many times over in the works of later Chinese artists from different regions.

These include an impressive number of celebrated literary and cinematic works produced in the last few years of the 20th century by people like Yim Ho (Red Dust, 滚滚红尘, 1990), Stanley Kwan (Red Rose White Rose, 红玫瑰白玫瑰, 1994), Peter Chan (Comrades Almost a Love Story, 甜蜜蜜, 1996), Ann Hui (Eighteen Springs, 半生缘, 1997), Wang Anyi (Song of Everlasting Sorrow, 长恨歌, 1996), Hou Hsiao-hsien (Flowers of Shanghai, 海上花, 1998), and Wong Kar-wai (In the Mood for Love, 花样年华, 2001).

Indeed, the idolization of Zhang Ailing was said to be symptomatic of the surge of "cultural nostalgia" in the early 1980s. This trend was partly driven by second-generation mainlanders' homesickness for an imaginary China of the past, and partly by increasing demand for cultural products of all types within the booming domestic market.

As Yvonne Chang explained, "thanks to the backward looking Nationalist historical narrative and the reopening of mainland China, pre-revolution Shanghai became an object of popular cultural fantasy."

Shanghai as a Cultural Icon

According to writer Yvonne Chang, prewar Shanghai became an icon for Taiwan in the early 1980s, where the island witnessed a "cultural nostalgia trend."

Chang noted that as Taipei and Kaohsiung (高雄) developed into modern metropolises, city dwellers "tried to come to terms with the tantalizing and disorienting urban lifestyle."

During this period, the media fully exploited people's curiosity about the "forbidden motherland", to the extent that even the places that zhiqing (知青, or educated youths) were sent to perform manual labor during the Cultural Revolution became "exotic and alluring."

Indeed, this fascination with the "forbidden motherland" lasted for several years, at least until the annoucement that Taiwan residents were allowed to travel to the mainland in the early 1990s.

It seems that a forbidden fruit is always sought after. And in the case of China, even though it is no longer the same forbidden fruit that it used to be, the place (especially Shanghai and its surrounding areas) is still attracting large numbers of Taiwanese such that Kunshan (昆山) is now known as the "Little Taiwan" of China.

Taiwanese Writer Wang Dingjun

Born in Shandong province, Wang Dingjun (王鼎钧) is one of the most productive and versatile writers in Taiwan. He contributed to underground newspapers during the War of Resistance against Japan, and after 1949 established himself in Taiwan as a columnist, radio playwright, short-story writer, literary critic, communications theorist and television scriptwriter.

His published works include: Three Books on Human Life (人生三书), A Lover's Eyes (情人眼), The Bachelor's Temperature (单身汉的体温度) and Whirlpool of the Left Atrium (左心房旋涡).

In the first chapter of Whirlpool, Wang poignantly compared his parting from his native place 39 years earlier to a reincarnation, with all traces of his "previous life" completely erased.

The suppressed memory of his mainland past, however, constantly returned to haunt him at night in the form of a bizarre dream. In the dream, he was separated into halves at the waist, and his lower body was desperately chasing the upper one.

The nightmare is triggered by something he saw earlier in the day - a row of mannequins without torsos displayed in a department store.

How graphic and unforgettable - the image of the "lower body desperately chasing the upper one"!

Anti-US Protests in Taiwan

Some of us might remember the recent incidents in Japan and South Korea where the U.S. military either raped or killed innocent civilians. But in Taiwan too?

In Japan, the incident took place in Okinawa in 1995, where U.S. servicemen gang-raped a 12-year old girl. The incident led to a public outcry for a reduction in U.S. troops, and a revision to the U.S.-Japan military pact that prevents American servicemen from being handed to local police.

While in Korea, a U.S. armored vehicle accidentally ran over two middle-school girls in Yangju, a suburban city, in June 2002. Apart from a public outcry, the incident also led to violent protests and unprovoked attacks on US soldiers.

In Taiwan, a similar incident happened almost three decades ago - in May 1975, when an American soldier based in Taiwan, U.S. Army sergeant Robert Reynolds, shot and killed a 30-year old Chinese man outside Reynolds headquarters.

Reynolds said the victim had been peering through the window at Reynold's disrobed wife, and that he feared the man was planning an attack.

But a court-martial acquitted Reynolds, sparking a wave of anti-American protests. Americans in the streets were harassed, the victim's widow went on a hunger strike, and an angry crowd occupied and set fire to the U.S. embassy.

Funeral Diplomacy

Most of us have heard of "shuttle diplomacy", "ping-pong diplomacy" etc. But what about "funeral diplomacy"?

In 1974, under pressure from Beijing, Tokyo announced a plan to downgrade the privileges of Taiwan's China Airlines' operations in Japan. This meant that the Taiwanese flag could not be used, the airlines' name would be changed, and its aircrafts could not use airports servicing Chinese airliners.

Predictably, Taipei decried the changes as "insulting" and forbade air traffic between Taiwan and Japan.

But restoration of air links came soon enough - a year after in 1975. Known as "funeral diplomacy", the restoration was due to the deaths of Chiang Kai-shek and former Japanese Prime Minister Sato Eisaku.

But there was still a catch - Taiwan and Chinese aircrafts would not be on the ground at the same time.

You know, sometimes I think the cross-strait impasse is as much about theatrics as it is about politics.

Chinese Diplomats Seeking Political Asylum

Watch this space for a sequel to the ham recipe that makes use of leftovers from that ham dinner.

Anyway, in the meantime, let's compare two separate cases of Chinese diplomats seeking political asylum - one in the 60s, and one recently.

In 1963, Chinese diplomat Zhou Hungjing went to the Soviet embassy in Tokyo and asked for political asylum. He expressed interest in several options, including defecting to Taiwan. But in the end, Japanese authorities decided to send him back to China.

Just last year, another Chinese diplomat Chen Yonglin who was in charge of political affairs at the Chinese Consulate in Sydney sought political asylum in Australia. Despite the initial refusal to grant him political asylum status, Chen and his family were later granted permanent protection visa by the Australian Immigration Department,

Of course the two cases are very different and I am just drawing simple conclusions here.

It seems to me that 1) even when China was not as much a rising power as it is now, countries still saw the need to "give in" to China, and 2) western countries (sorry Australia, you aren't really Asian, are you?) are more inclined to take up and support cases involving the violation of human rights as Chen reportedly feared for his safety if he were to return to China.

Ham Recipe

Just received a very interesting (and hilarious) recipe on how to cook ham. It is so easy that all you have to make sure is that you have an oven, as well as some pots and pans. Try it.

"First pre-heat the oven to 400 degrees. Then, prepare the glaze by mixing mustard, brown sugar, and some molasses. While that mix is being prepared, get in your car and quickly run down to the Honey Glazed Ham Company and purchase one of their ham.

Bring it back and pop it into the pre-heated oven. While the ham is warming up, take out every pot and pan you have in your kitchen and smear the glaze mixture. Pile the now dirty pots and pans in the kitchen sink so people will think that there was some major culinary activity that has taken place in that kitchen.

If people are present in the kitchen or near by, be sure to ply them liberally with wine or any other spirit of their liking. I find that when people are tipsy, they are less likely to notice that there really was no cooking taking place!"

Liu Shaoqi's Son Liu Yuan

More (propagandistic?) stuff that I have unearthed while researching into Liu Shaoqi (刘少奇).

Liu died in 1969 in Kaifeng (开封) in Henan (河南) province, in a less than dignified way. But this posting is not about how he died. Rather it is about his youngest son Liu Yuan (刘源), who was appointed vice-governor of Henan, 23 years after his father died in the same province.

Billed then as the youngest vice-governor in history, Liu Yuan graduated in 1992 from the Beijing Teachers' Training College (北京师范学院). Upon graduation, he requested to work in a village in Henan, in order to "better remember and draw strength" from his father.

During the 10 years he was vice-mayor, Liu was said to have accomplished two major tasks.
1. Increased the urban living space for residents in Zhengzhou (郑州).
2. Introduced the use of natural gas eight years ahead of schedule for over 40,000 residents.

On accusation that he had become vice-governor because of his father and that he had made use of his parentage to get things done, Liu argued that even though he opposed special privileges, there was nothing wrong in making use of one's "connections" to accomplish "something good for the people."

In Liu's words: "When I decided on the natural gas project as one of my key priorities, I had little difficulties in getting the assistance of related departments. Being my father's son has been helpful and had played a lubricating role. If people say that what I had done is resorting to special privileges, then let me assure everyone that I will only make use of special privileges to achieve the common good, and not for private interests."

Maybe there really might be some good in nepotism?

A Cultural Revolution Story

I think I am a sucker for Chinese propaganda stories.

While going through Chinese sources for a paper that I am working on, I came across a book about the offspring of top Chinese officials. One such offspring was Liu Yunbin (刘允斌), son of Liu Shaoqi (刘少奇).

After his father was derided as "China's Khrushchev" and "the number one capitalist roader" during the Cultural Revolution, it came as no surprise that Yunbin and his siblings were also attacked and prosecuted.

Yunbin and his wife apparently had a nanny for their children known as Grandma Wang and a chef known as Grandpa Wang. Of course, having domestic helpers were seen by the Red Guards as a bourgeois crime and both the Wangs (not sure if they were related) were ordered to leave Yunbin's family so that they would not be "further exploited."

Even though Grandma Wang and Grandpa Wang had no choice but to leave, their sense of devotion and loyalty were so strong that they could not bear to leave Yunbin's two young boys behind, especially since the boys' parents were constantly facing "struggle sessions" and had no time to look after the boys. When the boys were taken away, Yunbin's wife Li Miaoxiu (李妙秀) apparently told the children "never to forget the kindness of Grandma Wang and Grandpa Wang."

When Grandma Wang died in 1977, the two boys reportedly cried their hearts out, wore the mandatory Chinese hemp gown that were customary for children whose parents had died, and saw to her burial rites.

Li Miaoxiu also reportedly said, presumably to the authorities: "Please allow me to, in the name of Grandma Wang's daughter, purchase a urn for her to store her ashes."

I cannot even be sure if this was an authentic account, yet I still shed a tear or two. Told you I am a sucker for sob stories!

As for Yunbin, well, apparently he killed himself on a railway track during the Cultural Revolution.

Japanese Media Coverage of Crimes Committed By Foreigners

Before I come across as a Japan-basher, this is possibly my last entry (for now) on Japan's anti-foreigner sentiment.

In Shipper's article, the author noted that Japan's five major national newspapers, the Asahi, Mainichi, Yomiuri, Nikkei and Sankei tend to associate Chinese with serious crimes such as murder, rape, arson and armed robbery.

Thai women, it seemed, were associated with prostitution.

While Iranian men? Drug-related crimes.

Hmm. Seems that criminals and outlaws in Japan have decided among themselves to have a clear division of labor.

"Demonization" of Chinese in Japan

More on the "demonization" of Chinese in Japan that I was talking about in yesterday's entry.

According to Apichai Shipper, Japanese police associated foreigners with criminals and instilled fear of foreigners among the Japanese public.

In 2000, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police apparently distributed posters picturing a young man wearing a worn-out suit and dirty shoes, and crouching down while picking a lock. It also pictures a woman making a phone call.

The poster's caption read: "Apartment break-ins occur frequently. If you think (the person) is Chinese, call (the police at) 110. If you hear them speaking Chinese ... call 110."

Apichai wrote: "By focusing on the Chinese, the poster implies that it is mostly Chinese who break into apartments. Although burglaries involving Chinese have increased, about 97 per cent of the cases in 2000 still involved Japanese"

But after protests from human rights groups, the 700 already distributed posters were withdrawn.

Might as well declare that speaking Chinese is a crime!

Japan's Anti-Foreign (or Anti-Chinese) Sentiment

Japanese have an anti-foreigners streak, that much is apparent. And given that Koreans are the largest group of foreigners in Japan, it does not come as a surprise that they are the ones who have to bear the brunt of such negative sentiments.

But Chinese too have in recent years increasingly made their presence felt, and they are now the second largest group of foreigners in Japan, after the Koreans.

So naturally, the Chinese too have became the object of "demonization", so to speak.

According to Apichai Shipper, former Tokyo governor Ishihara Shintaro once invoked the "Snake Heads" (Chinese gangs that operate in human trafficking of Fuzhounese workers to Japan) to "further construct a fearful image of illegal foreigners." (Apichai W. Shipper, Criminals or Victims? The Politics of Illegal Foreigners in Japan, Journal of Japanese Studies 31:2 2005)

But this construction was countered by the police who noted that the rise in murders committed by Chinese "Snake Heads" were not considered alarming because victims were mostly members of Japanese organized crime, the yakuza.

The police explained that this was mainly due to a conflict over turf and the low prices that Chinese assassins charged for the services rendered. Apparently, a Chinese gangster would do three jobs for the price a yakuza would charge for one.

Anyway, Ishihara tried to justify his remarks by associating illegal foreigners with ruthless foreign gangsters, and even though the media denounced him for being a racist, there was an outpouring of public support for Ishihara's position.

Oh well. Maybe doing three jobs for the price of one (cut-throat competition!) was indeed ruthless and truly deserved scorn, contempt and even bloodshed.

Elasticity of the Chinese Language

How nice it would be to be the type of wordsmith as described by contemporary Chinese poet Yu Guangzhong (于光中).

Writing about his modernistic aesthetic in his creative work, Yu said: "I tried to condense, flatten, elongate, and sharpen the Chinese language, rip it apart and piece it together again, fold it this way and that, so that I might test its speed, density, and elasticity."

A wordsmith is like a craftsman, and Yu's quote conjures in my mind an image of a craftsman kneading dough the way an expert chef does, except that in place of dough, language is the malleable object.

Incidentally, apart from being a poet, Yu is also writer and critic. Born in Nanjing in 1928, he had to flee with his family in 1937 from the Japanese invading forces, and after returning to Nanjing in 1947 he again fled the Communist advance in the civil war. His family settled in Taiwan in 1950.