David Chan
Chinamen and Englishmen: an
exploration of identity
© David Chan and the Royal Geographical Society with IBG 2007
Introduction
If an Englishman goes to China, then he is likely to find the odd billion Chinamen, and have a cultural
encounter that has the potential to amaze, astound and overwhelm. Of course if that Englishman is part
Chinaman, then this cultural exchange will be even more perplexing, for he has to navigate his own cross
continental knowledge and awareness, in a land that is both foreign and familiar.
Let me explain, for your author is of dual heritage, half Chinese, half English, and raised in Britain. It was
from this perspective and with some trepidation that I began to explore the Royal Geographical Society’s
Chinese collections; with layman knowledge of Chinese culture, but no real academic acquaintance of
Chinese history. What I found, what engaged me most, was the encounter (and to use a cliché) of East and
West, and most importantly my relationship to this. With knowledge of both cultures, it became fascinating to
examine the interaction between the Chinese and West and connect it with my personal experiences.
The harbour and Kowloon peninsula from the peak, Hong Kong by R C Hurley, 1897
It was reading the journals of Colonel W H Jeffery, who travelled through China at the turn of the twentieth
century, that initially lead me down this path. Delving into his writings, I began to realise that his encounters
in China and of the Chinese reminded me of my own. For example, on arrival in Hong Kong (although unlike
me, he landed by sea, not air):
“At 9 a very fine view presented itself. The entrance to Hong Kong Harbour. The height and boldness of the
hills on the various islands were striking…. As the harbour opened out the great quantity of the shipping
became apparent… filling the ample space between Kowloon and the rugged island of Hong Kong.” (Jeffery
1902).
Jeffrey continued his journey with a trip across the harbour by the Star Ferry and a ride on the peak tram,
experiencing what I experienced, and millions of other tourists do every year. It was not just similarities of
landscape but also feelings, such as excitement, joy and surprise. Despite the passing of a century and the
accompany changes in culture and society, his writings still provided a parallel that I found I could relate.
With these thoughts I began to consider how the Chinese collections could be explored by the British
Chinese; for they have the ability to understand objects from both sides, as Chinese and Western. In view of
this I decided to use the collections as a foundation to examine how the British Chinese transcend and relate
to both cultures, and what this means for exploration of identity and belonging. So when examining items I
began to ask myself questions: who do I relate to, feel close to, give compassion, understanding, what
landscapes do I feel comfortable in? By exploring the Chinese collections I felt I was also exploring myself;
where would reading it leave me?
Collections
The Royal Geographical Society’s Chinese collections are vast and go beyond the boundaries of China itself,
for they encompass material on Chinese populations in places such as Malaysia, Taiwan and Singapore.
They are also dominantly a collection formed by Westerns, gathered by Europeans working, travelling and
exploring the East. This makes it a collection with context and perspective and not a simple passive
recording of history.
Photographs
Hong Kong
The photographic collection is one of the strongest accounts of the encounter between East and West, and
Hong Kong more so than any other place epitomes this meeting. Here the landscape and people have been
inherently influenced by China and Britain, whilst the photos provide a visual record which nearly anyone can
understand.
‘Queen’s Road central - ‘European decorations’ (left) and ‘ Native decorations’ (right), Hong Kong by R C Hurley, 1897
To begin, two prints in particular illustrate the dualistic encounter between occident and orient. Both of
Queen’s Road in what is now the Central district of Hong Kong Island, they were simply titled ‘European
decorations’ and ‘native decorations’. Examining them we can see both the British and Chinese high streets
on the same road. Together, they pose questions of affiliation; undoubtedly I can understand the advert for
the tailors against Chinese characters that I cannot read, whilst the buildings are more familiar on the former,
but that is not to disregard the familiar faces and architecture in that ‘native’ street. As a reader, I felt that I
was attempting to navigate these alternatives to find a sense of belonging on one or the other.
Such a theme reoccurs constantly throughout the images of Hong Kong, and there initially seem to be a
dualistic tension between the two sides. So a photograph of the Royal Engineers barracks (1897) dressed to
celebrate sixty years of Queen Victoria’s rule effectively shows one country made up as another. An image
of Westerns being carried in sedan chairs and a rickshaw (c1900) creates unease surrounding colonial
masters (although I want to relate to neither master nor servant). A photo of a horse racing track shows
colonialism of culture, with a British sport brought to the territory, gentleman, bowler hats and all. Conversely,
a print of a ruined St Paul’s in Macau, once the largest cathedral in Asia, seems to represents resistance
against the colonialists.
The royal engineers, Wellington Barracks, Hong Kong (left) by R C Hurley, 1897; Europeans being carried in litters (sedan chairs)
and a rickshaw on the quay side, Hong Kong, c1900
These are complex relationships though, which we cannot simply take at face value. Hence the image of a
horse racing track does not solely present British history, but also that of Hong Kong, as over time horse
racing has grown to become the most popular spectator sport in the territory. Whilst in Macau, about 5% of
the population are still Catholic, and in fact the cathedral’s destruction was in no way related to any sort of
resistance, but destroyed by a typhoon. We therefore find multiple meanings in these photographs, and it is
this that makes them initially difficult to read as we cannot simply follow the cliché. It is only by avoiding the
dualism of seeing East and West as opposite and separate, that I can recognise the conjunction of both
histories as central and find any sense of belonging.
Race course, Hong Kong, 1908
In some instances, however, the subject presents no desire for belonging. This is the case in a photograph
of an execution in Kowloon, 1891, where Western men stand proud over the bodies and heads of what are
titled ‘Chinese pirates’. The context of their death is undoubtedly different to the social rules of today, but it
still presents unease about the way the bodies have been lined up as trophies to be lauded over. If this is
considered a European atrocity though, then the counter is Colonel Jeffrey’s journal account of a Chinese
execution and his own horror. In the case of a picture like this, the idea of identifying becomes irrelevant, as I
seek to avoid familiarity to either party. Nevertheless, this is still someone’s history, and denial does not
mean it did not happen or influenced our culture; in particular considering the number of executions that still
occur in China today.
Execution of ‘Chinese pirates’, Kowloon, Hong Kong, 1891
Foreign Concessions
Moving away from Hong Kong but on a similar theme are the images of foreign concessions. These were
found all across China during the 19th and early 20th centuries and were largely a product of forced and
unequal treaties. Again, the photos illustrate the meeting of East and West and also present a dualistic
conflict, especially considering the way the lands were established.
One standout image is a huge panoramic of the costal city of Tianjin, taken from roof of the Astor House
Hotel, 1904. Scanning the landscape though it is difficult to associate the image with China, there are hints
with the occasional traditional Chinese curved roof, but European architecture dominates, with even the odd
American flag! More famous is the Bund in Shanghai, where a photo taken in 1929 illustrates the grandiose
European urban architecture. Again, this could well be any city in Europe were it not for rickshaws hauling
people along the road.
Panoramic of Tientsin, by Lt Col. P McChinty, 1904 (cropped)
The result for me is that when these images are read visually without context, they present a familiar
landscape that can almost be reminisced about, more European than Chinese. However, given background
and the realisation that this is not Europe, but thousands of miles away, it also becomes a contested
landscape, one that has been encroached upon. As a reader this makes me questions if I should be allowed
to reminisce; but the problem is that aside from reminiscing there is little else to relate with, it is in essence
Europe in China. Again though the history here is important, for in Shanghai the very presence of a
concession helped make the city the economic power it is today. Once more it is only by avoiding the
inherent desire to examine the dualism (the two sides in opposition) that I can begin to accept the history and
find any sense of belonging.
The Bund, Shanghai, G S S Gordon, 1929
Portraits
The photograph collection holds numerous portraits of people, not just the Chinese, but also Europeans.
However, although we see the educated, rich and poor of China, it is only the wealthy Europeans that appear
for they alone could afford to travel.
Amongst this wealth of images are photographs of a Chinese scholar (1907), an immaculately dressed lady
(c1880), and beggars in Canton (1907). There are likewise portraits of Europeans, such as mission officials
in Zhejiang provenance (1895). Most interesting though are the imagines of the Chinese and British together,
like those of children sitting in a wheelbarrow being carried by a Chinaman (1895) or a missionary school in
Canton (1907).
Portrait of a Chinese lady by R H Brown, c1880; Beggars, Canton by H Kirkhope 1907
Within these images there is again the opportunity to construct the dualism of East and West in conflict for we
could consider how they show an unequal balance of power, for example children being carried by a
Chinaman or the passive nature of those captured on film. However, for me the diversity in content (from
scholar to beggar), and the very nature of portraiture highlights the human encounter above all else. This
subverts any dualism or conflict; an idea which can be seen clearly in a photo of a police officer holding a
baby in Taiwan, 1925. Hence in these images of people I feel particularly comfortable, for they present
people on their own terms and allow me to find an equal sense of belonging as I choose.
European children, Fukien by Isabella Bird Bishop, 1895; Police officer and child at Doba, Taiwan by E D Bunsen 1925
Manuscripts and books
Although by their very nature the collections are more dominated by a Western experience of Chinese
culture, this perspective is not exclusive. The Chinaman abroad or a desultory account of the Malayan
Archipelago, particularly of Java (1849) is a translated account of Ong-tae-hae’s travels in South East Asian
at the end of the 18th century. Amongst descriptions of the region, he also reflects on Westerners.
Amusingly, and without irony, the English translator’s preface points out that Ong-tae-hae’s “…distorted views
and occasional mistakes, are ascribed to his early habits and partial information…” and that “The singular
representation given to European habits and manners will perhaps contribute to the amusement of western
readers, as serving to show what the Chinese think of foreign nations” (1849, translators preface).
The English are thus described as the “red-haired people” and that their “manufactories are very superior,
while their swords and guns, and other implements, are the best in all countries to the north-west” (Ong-taehae, 1849, 30). We are told of the French that “Their dispositions are violent and boisterous; their country is
poor, and contains but few merchants… Whenever the Dutch are insulted by the English, they depend on the
French for assistance” (Ong-tae-hae, 1849, 31).
Such generalisations can of course be equally found in Western texts. Although Hardy’s (1905) John
Chinaman at home provides a more multifaceted perspective on Chinese culture recognising regional
differences, it cannot help but make sweeping statements:
“The Chinese are fond of their children, though they pet them one moment and beat them the next.” (Hardy
1905, 96).
“The Chinese are cruel to animals, but they know how to make them do what they want. If, for instance, they
are disturbed by a donkey braying at night, they tie a big stone to his tail, and this humiliates him into silence.”
(Hardy 1905, 96).
“A Chinese thinks money, and is uncomfortable as an American until he ascertains the price of everything he
sees. Most Chinese are so poor that they can only seek for food; the rest are as hard and materialistic about
money.” (Hardy 1905, 97).
Although Hardy’s text can be considered both uncomfortable and amusing, it does hold some insights, for
although stereotypical perspectives are dangerous they are not necessarily detached from any reality. So
amongst all these writings we again can find two sides, both of which are trying to interpret the other. If we
recognise though that they each have varying degrees of success, then they become most useful texts for
exploring identity, as we stop focusing of the flaws. Taking this further though, I occasionally feel that I can
also relate to the nuances and inaccuracies of such texts, for as the authors are attempting to navigate and
understand the other party, I am also sometimes doing the same.
Cartography
The maps in the collection can also provide a dualistic form of cartographic representation of China. In
particular, two maps of Beijing help illustrate how the same city can be drawn differently depending on
culture. Hence we find an 1895 Chinese map which presents the city blocks in a fluid style, highlighting the
thick protective walls and accompanied by heavy text. A German map meanwhile offers a more familiar
European perspective of the city, with straight lines that appear to have been carefully surveyed. For me the
latter is more familiar and easier to navigate, but this is because I lack understanding of the Chinese map.
So although it may appear less accurate, the text could carry insights and information not cartographically
represented. Furthermore, the style in which it is drawn and the subjects highlighted, for example the thick
protective walls, may carry further significance.
Reading these maps it is difficult to find ideas of belonging or identity in either, as unlike phonographs or texts
they are harder to interpret without prior knowledge. They do though tell a history, for example a map of
China dated 1819 presents a nation and its borders as seen by the Chinese. Again, they also represent how
the dualism between occident and orient can appear.
Conclusions
So where did exploring these collections and the encounter between East and West leave me? Initially it was
an overriding theme of conflict, which came from a dualist approach to understanding the items. Everything
felt at opposites, it was differences rather than similarities that stood out (for these are often easier to see).
However, when I was able to read beyond this and recognise the joint history, the relevance to my own
identity and sense of belonging became clear and quite enlightening. I gained much from exploring the
collections, not only an understanding of China, but also myself.
Every person that examines these collections will of course have a different interpretation, and that is in part
the joy. We each have our own understanding of the world and through these items we can expand that on
our terms. To feel slightly closer to a China, or at the same time British too. Navigating ones own past and
identity really makes you think about how important the history found in such collections is; an idea I only
hope to have reinforced. Having a dual heritage can make the exploration more perplexing, for there is so
much to reconcile, but it also only makes the journey more interesting.
Of course these are not experiences unique to people of British born Chinese heritage, but apply to the
hundreds of million of people that have crossed continents and found themselves with a dual heritage in any
sense of the term. Such collections are important in helping all of us recognise and understand the different
histories. I will leave you with a quote from Colonel Jeffery, who neatly concludes for himself the significance
of this:
“One more volume of wonderings; when shall I learn to see what I look at.” (Jeffrey, 1902).