I have been invited by Center for Indigenous Studies of National Taiwan University to talk at a session called "Crushing Waves and Chasing Dreams: International Relations from Indigenous Perspectives"(破浪、築夢:原住民觀點的國際關係). This session will take place on 4th of March in a cafe near my alma mater.
While this invitation honors me especially by coming from a renowned anthropologist of Taiwan and the Pacific, I am also deeply bothered by the session's focus on international relations because of two reasons.
First, despite that I was (probably still am and will be too) involved with multiple events of a diplomatic nature in different capacities for the Council of Indigenous Peoples, I have never really considered myself dedicated to international relations. As I explained in another blog post, 台灣原住民族國際事務, I was merely a vessel that contributed where she saw fit.
Second, to reorient myself back to research, I resigned my work at the International Affairs Section last April to join the newly established Indigenous Languages Research and Development Center(ILRDC). Yes, for the past few months we had international visitors at the center and I again performed a similar role as I was doing before; nevertheless, our purpose was straightforward and targeted. We were exchanging research experience in indigenous languages.
Therefore, what can I talk about at the session? I really wonder, and I confess it has more to do with personal preference than with which story to tell.
Fortunately, my petty self-questioning was soon answered.
Instead of enumerating all events I participated under the name of 'international affairs' (though a quick review is probably unavoidable), I decide to elaborate upon an idea I shared before, that 'doing international affairs is more about what you think than what you do'("[台灣原住民族國際事務]不是指特定的一件事或一種參與,它是一種樂於與不同族群交流分享的心境,它是一種觀點"), and I will support that with my junior scholarly endeavors in history so far.
This enlightenment actually comes from three books about historians I read during Chinese New Year, two edited by a young historian in Taipei, 陳建守, and one by my supervisor in Leiden, Leonard Blusse.
In total, forty-six historians are presented in these three books. Presentation formats include interview , review article, autobiography and Charles Homer Haskins Prize Lecture sponsored by American Council of Learned Studies(ACLS). They all tell how these historians choose their professions; what subjects interest them the most; with which methodologies they research and write their histories; and where they picture the future of history as an academic field.
It is hoped (and commonly expressed by both editors) that by reading the man or woman behind the desk, readers or historians to be might understand the history he or she produces better.
Among these wonderful role models coming from a kaleidoscope of nationalities, I feel especially drawn to historians that dedicate themselves to bring out the history of the unknown and historians that work on a larger scale, global or world.
Natalie Zemon Davis (Jew and Candadian, The Return of Martin Guerre), Gerda Lerner (Austria-born Jew and American, Teaching Women's History), Carlo Ginzburg (Italian, The Cheese and the Worms) or Alain Corbin (French, The Life of an Unknown) are examples that look at individuals or themes, which have long been marginalized in previous histories.
Historians often have at most scattered or even insufficient sources to work out such history, as most sources are about the winners and the powerful. Therefore, they need to grapple with:
(1) their colleagues' tolerance for alternative sources;
(2) a number of non-traditional methodologies and brand-new questions;
(3) especially comparison to draw a coherent narrative from the sources.
Moreover, Ginzburg believes that (4) whatever is unsure in the course of research should be revealed in the narrative because writing history is also a part of the quest for history. In other words, where the sources fail to yield, the narrative should stop to reveal. That gives his histories a montage kind of style.
I feel akin to these historians because I share their interest in the history of the unknown (in my case, indigenous peoples); I share their need for alternative sources (in my case, especially the not-yet defined and accepted oral histories); and I share their predilection for a literary representation of history (combining literature with history).
Though these historians and I are very different in background, and we do concern ourselves with different groups of people, on the whole I share their revolutionary spirit and constant desire for crossing over norms or boundaries. I believe I can still learn from their inspiring journey and research.
Another group of historians that attracts me are those who work on world or global history, such as William McNeill (Canada-born American, The Rise of the West), Philip Curtin (American, Cross-Cultural Trade in World History) and other expansionists like especially the Dutch.
Although I won't deny some historians being part of "the most favoured social groups in our [American] society"(that is white, Caucasian, male) cannot help reveal a bit of Eurocentrism, I associate very much with their:
(1) eye for the bigger picture;
(2) preference for cross-disciplinary approaches;
(3) taste for fieldwork like a real anthropologist.
I have explained my admiration for such history in, for example, Vermeer's Hat by Canadian historian/sinologist Timothy Brook.
I think reading these three books about historians is helping more than my preparation for the coming talk about international relations from indigenous perspectives. It also furnishes me with ideas for my PhD proposal in history.
As I am working towards a history that puts Taiwan's indigenous peoples in the world map under the scheme of 'histoire totale' and 'longue duree', there is obviously a connection with the efforts and intentions of professional diplomats executing international affairs. That is the reason why I tend to think 'international relations refer less to the action than to the attitude'. Important historical questions, as Lerner also contends, are best researched and answered with a perspective of the world. That I do indigenous history here is almost equivalent to I do indigenous international affairs.
Finally, I have to mentions this.
In all three books, except for Portuguese fathers who dedicate themselves to parish and history in celibacy, almost no historians - man or woman alike - marry their own profession! Some even traveled with family on research grants! I will totally do that myself too when conditions meet. It's absolutely not necessary that a mole in the archives will be forever single and lonely despite of sex or age. That is very encouraging indeed! Oh yeah!
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