Child of All Nations (9 page)

“I trust that you have now got over your troubles, Tuan. That is why I took the decision to write to you.”

“Thank you, Tuan Nijman.”

“We all greatly admire the resolve and patience of you and Nyai. How is your wife’s health, Tuan?”

“Fine, Tuan, fine,” I lied.

“I’m glad to hear it. Do you remember your last article? You compared something with a sparrow in a storm? It’s my own opinion the comparison is not quite right. In my view, and it’s not just my own, it is you, Tuan, that is the storm, and that which you considered was a storm was really the sparrow.”

“This time you are truly exaggerating,” I answered, and I remembered Mother’s warning always to be wary of flatterers.

“No”—he took out his pocket watch and looked at it for a moment—“I doubt if one in a thousand people could get through what you have got through safely. The reality is that you yourself progress further and further because of these difficulties. That is why I decided to write to you: Begin with English! Defeated in one field of battle, but victorious in another. What’s the difference? Isn’t that so, Tuan Minke? If you succeed, your voice will be able to reach the international audience without going via the translations of others, yes?”

“You exaggerate.”

“Not at all,” he said firmly. “Since the Japanese have been given equal status, all sorts of strange things have been happening in Southeast Asia.”

“I’ve studied all your articles but, excuse me, I haven’t read about anything strange happening.”

He laughed and invited me to sit on the settee: “Not everything is reported in the papers, Tuan. Look, you’ve read my writings about the Chinese young people who are restless and jealous of Japan?” His eyes pierced mine with the question.

“Yes, and I read a lot more after I received your letter.”

“Excellent. It looks like these young Chinese have a real passion to catch up with Japan. Once you have begun to write in English, you’ll be able to establish direct contact with publishers in Singapore and Hong Kong. That will bring you closer to the British empire, to the international audience. Your writings about these strange goings-on will be very interesting to the international community, Tuan. Who knows, you might be a big success in this too.”

“Ah, you are exaggerating very much, Tuan.”

“Not at all. We’ll try. To start with, you will note down an interview between myself and a young Chinaman about your age.”

I had not been wrong. It was indeed the young sinkeh with the guava-ball face who was going to be interviewed.

“And besides that,” Nijman went on, “you will be able to see close up just how these strange goings-on are taking form. It will be very interesting. These young Chinese are nothing but clowns making unfunny and dangerous jokes. Not at all funny, even saddening. And everyone knows you are far more educated than all of them. The Dutch education system is rated among the best in the world. Just look upon this experiment as an enjoyable game.”

The Pure sinyo who was outside a while ago opened the door. Guava Face stood in the doorway, bowing his head deeply. When he stood up straight again he seemed even skinnier than before.

“Please come in,” Nijman said in English, without moving from his chair. I followed his example.

The Chinaman’s bare feet made their way nimbly and quickly across the room and brought him up to us. He stopped in front of Nijman’s desk, where he bowed once again and expressed his greetings in an English with which I wasn’t familiar.

I got in first by holding out my hand. Then I sensed my own nervousness: I mustn’t fail this test. I will suffer great embarrassment if I am unable to catch what he says.

Nijman still sat in his chair. His English was clear.

“Please sit down, sir,” he said. “Mr. Minke, this is Mr. Khouw Ah Soe. Mr. Khouw Ah Soe, you must have come across Mr. Minke’s name in the newspapers.”

Guava Face bowed even while seated. He bowed so often I began to wonder whether it really was Chinese custom, real Chinese custom, in its pure form.

“Ya-ya-ya, Mr. Minke…”

I sharpened my listening to accustom myself to his accent.

“The waves of events involving yourself and your family—we followed them closely. We all have sympathy for you and your family. May you remain strong. And what is the news of your wife now?”

“Very good, thank you, Mr. Khouw.”

His narrow eyes penetrated mine. I observed them for a second. Standing there with nothing on his feet, wearing only pajamas, he didn’t seem to suffer any sense of inferiority at all. He moved and spoke as if he weren’t arraigned before a European, but among his own best friends. This approach might not be very pleasant for Nijman, who would be used to being fawned upon by Natives. And that’s what made Khouw’s behavior so interesting to me. He didn’t try to pretend to be anything more than he really was. His face reddened as he talked. His few pointed teeth appeared and disappeared from behind his lips.

“I’d like to talk to you one day if you have the time,” he said to me. “In any case, sir, we are very grateful to you that, no matter what the means and route was, you played a role in the destruction of the corrupt Old Generation that Ah Tjong symbolized.”

Word by word I followed what he was saying. But, damn it, I didn’t know what he meant. All I could do was grimace. It seemed he had already become used to speaking English in his own way. I tuned my ear so as to hear better.

“Your contribution was really greater than ours. May I know where you live? Are you still with that business?” he asked.

“Still, Mr. Khouw.” I was amazed that he knew all that.

“May I, perhaps, visit there one day?”

“Of course. And just wait there for me if I haven’t arrived home yet.”

Nijman intervened: “Let’s begin our interview, gentlemen.”

I readied myself with pencil and paper. The Pure sinyo appeared at the door again, but Nijman waved him away.

“Now, Mr. Khouw,” Nijman began, “would you like to tell us where you come from and what education you have?”

“Of course. I am from Tientsin, the son of a merchant.”

“What kind of merchant, Mr. Khouw?”

“Everything that can be sold, sir. I’m a graduate of the English-language secondary school at Shanghai.”

“But it’s not close to Shanghai—Tientsin—is it?”

“Not at all close.”

“Are you a graduate from a Protestant or Catholic mission school?”

I wrote and wrote. Not sentences—just words.

“What kind of school it was and who owned it aren’t important. In the beginning I wanted to continue my schooling in Japan. But knowing that there were very few places put aside for foreign students, I didn’t try, especially as I knew that several of my fellow countrymen there returned before finishing their studies.”

He was silent for a moment. It seemed he was giving me time to take down what he was saying.

“Was their action a protest or the result of discrimination against them?” asked Nijman.

“Neither. They had taken an oath to become good workers for the Chinese Young Generation movement.”

“So then you joined them?”

“Exactly. There is no point in becoming a clever expert, as clever as a May tree—”

“What is a May tree?”

“Just the name of a tree that turns the mountains yellow whenever it flowers.”

“And it is really tall, this tree?”

“No, not really…anyway, any education would be wasted if one had to take orders from the, corrupt and ignorant Older Generation that holds power, or if you had to become ignorant and corrupt yourself in order to be able to maintain that power. All a waste, sir. Even the cleverest of experts who became part of an ignorant power would become ignorant also.”

“So you object to the nature of the power of the Chinese empire at the moment?” asked Nijman.

“Exactly!”

“But that is rebellion against the emperor.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Japan still has an emperor.”

“We are not Japan. Japan is experiencing her awakening. China is in the process of collapse. We want to speed up that collapse so as to rise again, free of oppression.”

“But the Chinese Older Generation is famed for its wisdom, the great heritage it has left China, books and cultural artifacts, a high civilization.…”

“True, but that was the Older Generation when it was the Young Generation. This is the modern age. Any nation and people that cannot absorb the power of Europe, and then arise and utilize it, will be swallowed up by Europe. We have to make our China equal with Europe without becoming Europe, as Japan is doing.”

“Do you really believe in what you are saying?”

“That belief is, indeed, precisely the power that mobilizes us. We have never been conquered by another race, and we are not willing to undergo that experience. On the other hand, we have no dreams of conquering other races. That is our belief. Our people have a saying: ‘In the sky there is heaven, on earth there is Hanchou,’ and we young people have added: ‘In the heart is faith.’”

“You speak like a member of the English parliament,” Nijman flattered him. “You desire and are struggling for a new form of authority.” There was insult in Nijman’s voice. “You want China to become a republic?”

“Yes.”

“You want to rival the United States and France?” Nijman smiled arrogantly.

“Is there any other road that new nations can take in this modern age?”

“While most of the countries of Europe are not yet republics!”

“That’s nothing to do with us.”

“Yet you yourself still wear the thau-cang.”

Khouw Ah Soe smiled politely, bowing. Nijman seemed unable
to restrain his amusement and laughed also. I, on the other hand, was offended. Nijman’s words went too far. It was Khouw Ah Soe’s right to wear a pigtail.

“Do you know the meaning of the pigtail?” Khouw Ah Soe suddenly asked in reply.

“No. It must be very important.” There was a smile on Nijman’s face. “Tell us about it.”

“It’s an unusual story, the story of the pigtail. There was once a time when Europe so admired our civilization that the French took to wearing pigtails. Then, sir, the Dutch took on the practice also. So too did the Americans wear thau-cangs.”

Nijman went pale. He murmured agreement.

“But that was when Europe had not known us long. Of course it is not like that now. Even so, it is still quite amazing: Europeans wearing pigtails! Even the Americans, during their revolution! During France’s period of triumph and glory, they not only copied the pigtail but also the habit of eating frogs, which the rest of humanity looked upon as degrading. And what was, in truth, the thau-cang, sir? Nothing more than a symbol of slavery and obedience, originating during the period when China was ruled by the people from the north. Sir, the pigtail in China was a symbol of humiliation. In Europe it was the other way around; it was a symbol of triumph, at one time, during one era. In China people used to eat frogs because of their poverty; in Europe it was a part of its grandeur. So topsy-turvy is history. The mighty race that forced us to wear pigtails is now being subjugated by the Japanese, who seek iron and steel and coal to make themselves strong. That is if I’m not mistaken.”

“A very interesting interview”—Nijman gave his assessment—“almost a lecture.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Editor, it was not my intention to give a lecture. This is a very important moment for me. It is the first time, perhaps, that a member of the Chinese Young Generation has been interviewed like this.”

“This Young Generation—it has no publications of its own?”

“In this modern era, there is no movement that does not have its own publications, sir. And vice versa, sir, isn’t it so? Every publication must represent some specific interest or power group, even your own publication. I’m not wrong, am I?”

“And when will you cut off your humiliating pigtail?”

“There will be a time for that, sir.”

“What was your purpose in coming to the Indies?”

“To see the world.”

“Oh. Ya. You are the son of a merchant who sells anything that can be sold, yes?”

Khouw Ah Soe nodded in affirmation.

“You came by yourself. But you are a member of the Young Generation. How is it possible you have no friends with you, and have just come here to see the world?”

“Perhaps we have a different idea of what the word
friend
means. Our members are just workers, carrying out history. That is what I am as well. We are only ants who want to erect a new castle of history.”

“Mr. Khouw Ah Soe, it seems to me that you are not just a high-school graduate. It appears that you have studied at university. The way you bow is not Chinese but Japanese. It seems you are trying to hide the fact that you have lived in Japan—for at least two or three years. You are, at the very least, a very intelligent university student.”

“Truly a compliment to be valued highly, sir.”

“And you haven’t come to the Indies by yourself.”

“I wish that were true; I would not be so lonely.”

“It is not the Chinese way to wander around by oneself.”

“Oh yes? It appears you have a great knowledge of the Chinese. Well, if you are right, let me ask you: May not a Chinese with some European education be somewhat different from his own group and people?”

“Mr. Khouw Ah Soe, what is your opinion of an elephant that leaves its herd? Isn’t he a very dangerous elephant? Can’t you be compared to such an elephant? You are a member of the Chinese Young Generation, a member that has left its group. It is certain you are not here just to wander around and look at the sights.”

“Wonderful. Then you must be right.”

“Why is that?”

“Because according to our ancestors, the host must always be honored.”

“You have a very clever tongue. May I now put to you the last question? Did you enter the Indies legally or did you sneak in?”

“A very good question, one that history will also put to the peoples of Europe: Oh, you peoples of Europe—and not just individuals—did you enter the Indies legally or did you sneak in? It is you yourself who must answer that question, not me. Good afternoon.”

Khouw Ah Soe rose from his chair. Smiling, he shook hands with me, then with Nijman, bowed, and left the office.