Foreign Affairs: 100 Years
A New Americanism
Why a Nation Needs a National Story
SHORTLY after the Tientsin Massacre of 1870, China's leading statesman, Li Hung-chang, declared in a memorial to the throne: "China is faced with unprecedented changes in her history of over three thousand years." These words, which Li repeated on several occasions to his colleagues, were prophetic. More changes have taken place in China in the last eight decades than in the previous two thousand years. The political system has changed from a monarchy to a republic and then to a "people's democracy;" the economic and social structures have changed almost beyond recognition; and even the old cultural values have largely lost their meanings. How are these changes related to one another? I believe that the Chinese élite have played a central rôle in bringing them about.
A cardinal feature of traditional Chinese society was the bifurcation of the populace into a literate élite and an illiterate mass consisting mainly of peasants. Agriculture was by far the most important part of the economy, but the illiterate peasants, who accounted for 70 to 80 percent of the population, had little political influence and depended upon the literati for guidance and leadership. Among the literati, there was a hierarchy of higher and lower orders, but together they constituted the only articulate group and held the reins of government in their hands. They exercised power on the basis of Confucian ideals which were for some 20 centuries the dominant principles of life to all Chinese.
Broadly speaking, Confucianism consisted of an elaborate body of ethical doctrine dealing with man-to-man relationships. It emphasized harmony rather than competition. Harmony was to be achieved through self-abnegation and consideration for others. The conduct of man towards his fellow men was governed by explicit rules prescribed on the basis of his status relative to others. Thus, a man should be filial to his parents, loyal to his prince, respectful to his superior and authoritative but kind to his subordinate. The idea of obligation was ingrained in the minds of all. The individual could not exist apart from the whole. The idea of the whole and the emphasis on the hierarchy of status combined to assign to the family a place of paramount importance in man's life. The supreme obligation of a man towards his family was not to give them wealth and power but to reflect on them the honor that he could achieve by the strictest conformity to Confucian ethics.
A natural result of a social structure based upon a body of ethical doctrines was the rise of a small group of semi-theocrats who ruled according to the classics. More specifically, the literati of China acted in three capacities: as government officials, as teachers and writers, and as civic leaders. In their capacity as bureaucrats they had a firm hold on political power. The political hierarchy was headed by the emperor, who as the Son of Heaven ostensibly wielded unlimited power over his subjects. This was, however, more apparent than real. With rare exceptions the emperor had little contact with the outside world and relied heavily on the reports tendered to him for decision-making. Furthermore, the literati spoke in the name of Confucius, and the Confucian ideals were so woven into the social context that the monarch usually found it more expedient to conform than to deviate.
As teachers, the literati not only imparted book knowledge to their pupils but above all served as models of conduct. By his righteousness the teacher inspired respect on the part of his pupil and exercised beneficial influence upon society. The teacher's status was exalted, and the teacher-pupil relationship was nearly as sacrosanct as the father-son relationship. As writers, the literati controlled the only means of impersonal communication and compiled records by which events and personalities were known to contemporaries and to posterity. The literati were thus not only the source of public opinion but also the makers of history.
Under the traditional system the literati were not allowed to hold office in their native provinces. The rule was designed to avoid possible conflict of interest between their rôle as government officials and their rôle as civic leaders. In the sedentary life that they lived, most Chinese were virtually attached to the land where they were born. Hence there was traditionally a strong feeling for one's native area. When they were out of office, the literati were civic leaders in their home towns. In the traditional system of government the tentacles of the central power stopped at the county, or hsien, level. A county frequently consisted of half a million people and a few hundred square miles of territory. The magistrate had only a small official staff, and his tenure in a particular post was short. Hence communal activities below the county level were initiated and supervised by literati residing in the district, known as the gentry. They organized schools, raised funds to subsidize worthy students, and promoted the maintenance of Confucian temples and examination halls. They compiled local gazetteers and were often requested by the government to expound politico-moral maxims to the masses. They initiated famine relief, arbitrated in civil disputes, encouraged the building and repairing of dams, dikes, roads and bridges; and they organized associations in provincial and national capitals for the benefit of their touring townsmen. They also helped in the collection of taxes and often took charge of local defense.
Because they had excellent connections with the official hierarchy and yet occupied no formal status, the gentry were pressure groups par excellence. They functioned to protect the local populace against government exactions. If the magistrate sent an order to the village extracting special taxes or labor services, the local headman, often a minor gentry elected by his peers, would announce the order in the village teashop and discuss it with all who were present. The opinion of the gentry especially would be ascertained and a decision reached as to whether the order should be followed. If the decision was in the negative, a process of lobbying would immediately be started. The elders of the village would call on the magistrate, or appeal to someone of high standing to intervene. Sometimes the issue gradually moved up to the monarch himself, and pressure of the local interests was seldom without effect.
As an integral part of community life, the gentry existed everywhere in rural China. The main gateway to the status of gentry was through the civil service examinations, which were held at three levels--county, provincial and national. Generally speaking, the higher the level at which a candidate passed his examination, the higher he could rise as an official and the more prestige he had in his private capacity as a member of the gentry. Geographical quotas were enforced in all civil service examinations to give the natives of culturally less advanced areas equal or better opportunity to pass the examinations. As a consequence, geographical balance of leadership was obtained.
Papers in these examinations were limited to a few classics. In order to pass, a candidate had literally to know the classics by heart and understand their meaning in an exhaustive manner. This in itself constituted a process of indoctrination. It ensured a homogeneity of outlook among the literati and imbued them with a sense of mission towards the masses and indeed towards humanity. A strong sense of propriety and of noblesse oblige characterized the Chinese literati, and it was this that helped the Confucian society to last for so many centuries.
The active rôle played by the gentry in local affairs assured them a minimum understanding of the peasant's problems. The understanding was further enhanced by inter-group mobility. Empirical studies indicate that a large proportion of officials originally came from peasant stock in rural areas. The elevation was possible because education was relatively inexpensive. Outstanding students were helped by the clan, the village or the local school, and there was no high tuition to pay or expensive books to buy. In the best tradition of China, once elevated to the gentry status, a family did not give up farming but continued to lead a simple, frugal life at home. This was called the way of an "honorable family of farming-study background." Confucian ideals as well as legal restrictions forbade officials to engage in industry or commerce; hence as a rule they did not amass large fortunes. After an official's death, his family might revert to peasant status after a generation or two. Thus there was a two-way valve between the élite and the masses.
Confucian society, however, had certain weaknesses. Confucianism sought to achieve harmony among men by laying down rules for their behavior according to individual status. The way to conformity was by persuasion and social pressure rather than by naked coercion. The maintenance of a Confucian order therefore depended upon two major conditions. First, adherence to the rules had to be nearly universal. If an appreciable number of people were outside the orbit, the rules would become unenforceable for all, for self-abnegation could hardly lead to harmony unless it was met in kind. The second condition was that the people's pattern of life must remain constant so that established rules of conduct were sufficient to meet all contingencies. To prevent change, technological improvement was not favored; and the acquisition of wealth and indulgence in material desires were condemned. In short, the Confucian society was a closed system which sought stability at the expense of progress. It could not compete effectively with a more dynamic civilization. In her long seclusion, China was helped by geography; the cultural level of surrounding countries was so low that China could maintain tributary relations with them without sacrificing her sedantary way of life.
But in the nineteenth century an expanding West, equipped with superior technology, forced itself upon China. True to tradition, China sought to treat the Western states as tributaries and to impose the customary restrictions on contact and trade. But she emerged badly defeated from the wars that ensued. The humiliation was strongly felt by the literati, but their begrudging attempts at reform along Western lines were doomed to failure: most of them were unable to adjust their view that all foreigners were barbarians. Resistance only increased China's difficulties and developed a pent-up resentment against the régime. When the conservative stand finally collapsed in 1900, a reaction set in: the bewildered intellectuals rapidly came to view everything traditional with suspicion and all Western institutions with an admiring eye. The stage was set for an era of indiscriminate imitation of the West.
Of the numerous changes introduced, perhaps the most far-reaching was the educational reform. In 1902 a school system modeled on the West was decreed. Three years later, the time-honored civil service examinations were abolished. Henceforth school education became the major channel of advancement. Broadly speaking, there were three levels of education under the new system--primary school, middle school and college. To this must be added a fourth and highest stage--study abroad. For convenience we shall refer to the foreign-educated and the college graduates as the higher intellectuals. The middle school students stand apart and will be mentioned separately.
Because of the sudden reorientation toward Western education, study abroad became the dream of all college and middle-school students. Oftentimes a student spent years planning and seeking ways and means to go to America. Two occupations particularly favored by the returned students were government services and college teaching. Actually, all top posts in Chinese higher education were monopolized by returned students, particularly those from America. In the Chinese educational system, vocational training had little importance and the main emphasis was placed on preparing students for further study. For this reason, college curricula governed the courses in middle schools and the latter in turn influenced the courses in primary schools. By their control over higher education, men educated in the West controlled Chinese education as a whole.
The foreign-educated were no less prominent in government services. Their proportion among Chinese central government leaders rose from 42 percent in 1915 to 78 percent in 1932 and remained at that level right down to the end of the Kuomintang rule on the Chinese mainland. In the first two decades of the century a number of leaders rose to ministerial positions within five or six years of their return from abroad. Though this rapid rate of advance probably slowed down in later decades, the pattern of prominence held. In a survey made by the present writer in 1937, practically none of some 1,100 American-trained men was found to occupy a position classified as "poor."
Only scanty information is available about the employment pattern of Chinese college graduates, but it doubtless was broadly similar to that of the returned students, except that the latter had more prestige and therefore better positions. On the whole, the modern intellectuals can be said to have inherited the importance of the literati in the old society. The fact is not surprising when we remember that the masses in China remained illiterate. The key question then is, how did the training, outlook and performance of the new intellectuals compare with those of the old?
When the new educational system was introduced in 1902, the Confucian classics occupied from a quarter to two-thirds of the class hours in primary and middle schools. After 1912, under the influence of Western-trained educators, the classics were replaced by citizenship courses, and the hours were reduced. Gradually, ethical teaching all but disappeared from the curriculum while increasing emphasis was given to technical training. The majority of books used in colleges were in foreign languages and even the examples used to illustrate a principle were often of Western origin.[i] Few courses on Chinese culture were taught, and subjects such as Chinese economic history which had received relatively little attention in traditional Chinese education, and which might have derived great profit from an application of Western scientific methods, were more neglected than ever. The heavy impact of Western education in China not only resulted in the absence of ethical teachings but also deprived the student of a minimum knowledge of Chinese culture.
The cost of education changed, too. With little free elementary education provided and practically no scholarships available in middle schools and colleges, study became limited to the wellto-do class. Farmers and laborers, the two largest occupational groups in China, were virtually barred. According to surveys made in the 1930s, a farmer needed to own some five acres of land to be able to send two children to primary school. Only about 11 percent of the farmers in China fulfilled this qualification. To send a son to a middle school, a farmer needed to have some 30 acres of land. Only about 1 percent of the farmers in China could meet this requirement. Since the cost of college education in Shanghai and of study abroad in America in 1930 was respectively about four and one-half and 21 times that of middle school education, it is safe to conclude that no farmer without other sources of income could give his children a college education.
The situation was equally striking among laborers. Between 1917 and 1931 some 82 surveys were made on their living conditions in various districts. Among 303 families in Shanghai, where wages were highest in China, only one youngster went beyond primary school and over 60 percent of the children had less than one year's education. The one exception came from a family which had other sources of income and hence was not typical. Education was largely confined to the families of government officials, educators, and professionals including merchants. In 1924, each of these groups accounted for about a third of the students at Tsinghua College, with a small residue--3.7 percent--coming from agricultural families. It is therefore clear that social mobility was sharply reduced under the new system. The valve between the intellectual élite and the masses was nearly closed.[ii]
A related phenomenon of the high cost of education was the geographical distribution of Chinese colleges. There was a heavy concentration in the large metropolises, particularly Shanghai and Peking. In 1934, out of a total of 111 institutions of higher learning, 25 were in Shanghai, 14 were in cities near to Shanghai, and 26 were in the Peking-Tientsin area. Some 60 percent of university students were found in 1930 in two cities alone, Shanghai and Peking. Large parts of China were unserved by any college.[iii]
This pattern of uneven distribution had important social implications. Most large cities in modern China--particularly Shanghai--grew up under the direct influence of Western traders. In the process a distinct culture developed. Whereas life in rural China bore the marks of simplicity, frugality and traditionalism, the treaty ports were characterized by luxurious living, moral unscrupulousness and discrimination by Westerners against Chinese. The heavy concentration of schools in Shanghai therefore tended to restrict educational opportunities to youths reared in an atmosphere of self-seeking commercialism and also contaminated those students who came there from rural areas. It was commonly observed that once a student came to a large city, he stayed on after graduation, even when he was unemployed. The same urbanization tendency characterized the men educated in the West, a large part of whom were residents of treaty ports to begin with. In 1937, among 1,100 American-trained men, 24 percent were located in Shanghai, 39 percent were in six other major cities and 6 percent were abroad. Of the remainder, not a single person was in any town smaller than a county seat. Higher education drained the rural areas of men and leadership instead of feeding it.
In modern China, then, the higher intellectual stood in contrast to the old literati in almost every respect. He had little ethical training and was not particularly acquainted with China's cultural background. In all probability, he was a city-dweller. The geographical distribution of educated men was uneven. Most students came from urbanized merchant or official families. There was little mobility between the élite and the masses. The typical higher intellectual was one who knew nothing about the peasant or his problems.
By their nature, social phenomena defy simple cause and effect analysis. Nevertheless, the characteristics of China's intellectuals seem to have had a definite impact upon the Chinese body politic. The years from 1928 to 1948 were crucial. During this period the carry-overs from the old intelligentsia largely disappeared, and men educated in the new way dominated the scene. The political center shifted from Peking, the city of the mandarinate, to Nanking, located on the outskirts, so to speak, of Shanghai. The characteristic Kuomintang leader was the Western-educated son of a merchant. He maintained his residence in Shanghai and commuted to Nanking every week. Approaching politics from an urban point of view, he never seriously attempted to put through the agrarian reform program to which the party was committed. During its best years, from 1928 to 1937, the government very largely disregarded peasant and local government problems except in so far as they might be immediately involved in the military campaign against the Communists. The land tax was assigned to provincial treasuries in 1928. The attention of the government was concentrated on the urban sector of the economy. Eighty-five percent of the central government revenue was derived from taxes on foreign trade and commodities of industrial origin located in a small coastal area. To finance its costly military campaigns, the government borrowed heavily from banks in Shanghai at exorbitant interest rates. Yet the fiscal potentiality of the rural sector was untapped. At the height of Kuomintang power, the value of output taxed by the central government did not exceed 10 or 15 percent of the national income. On the other hand, speculation in commodities, government bonds and foreign exchange became a common practice among circles close to the government. Under official auspices, banking syndicates were organized to gain monopolistic control of industrial and financial enterprises. In all these developments the treaty-port orientation of the ruling hierarchy was unmistakable.
The impact of the new class of Chinese intellectuals upon local politics was even more serious, though here it was by default rather than by participation. A remarkable characteristic of Chinese politics from 1912 onwards was the absence of Western-educated intellectuals in governmental activities from the provincial level downwards. Out of 151 provincial heads in certain sample years between 1916 and 1947 that I surveyed, only six were Western-trained, and only three of these were appointed after 1932. Of these three, two either did not assume their posts or, if they did, remained in office for only a short time. The great majority of the provincial heads were militarists, veterans of civil wars who had had little academic education. A number of these militarists came from peasant stock. Oppressed and without hope of rising through regular channels, the peasant sometimes left the land and joined the army. He might in time rise to be a commander; and as most of the higher intellectuals were not particularly interested in provincial posts, he might be the logical choice for the provincial governorship. The opportunity for economic exploitation in such posts was great, and many militarists amassed large fortunes. While the rise of the soldier in a sense broadened the base of the Chinese ruling hierarchy, it differed basically from the old farming-study pattern in its implications. Whereas the traditional union of peasants and literati increased political and social harmony, the peasant-militarist and the intellectual were virtually two antibodies. They differed both in outlook and sphere of influence. As a consequence, neither contributed to political stability.
As I have indicated, local government below the county level had traditionally been in the hands of the gentry. The absence of educated men in rural areas caused a breakdown in the customary power structure and made good government impossible. Reliable surveys of rural districts in the mid-1930s demonstrated clearly the deterioration of local government. The old gentry virtually disappeared; their place was taken by petty militarists or their underlings, whose only concern was to loot the peasant to the maximum possible extent. These men were not infrequently known murderers, but there was little that the county government could do about them; indeed, there was a temptation for the magistrate to fall in with them in unsavory transactions. Much depended upon the locality: the riffraff were usually less active in areas close to the modern cities, where there was peace and order, and more obnoxious in the interior, where higher intellectuals were few and public opinion weak. In times of civil wars, usually confined to the rural areas, the situation reached its worst. The peasant had the choice of fleeing or staying on the land and taking the consequences. Either way he faced probable extinction.
Of special interest is the educational background of the local riffraff. A number of them had been students at middle schools of one kind or another; but the middle school student was now far less favorably situated than the old literati of comparable rank had been. He had a training basically inferior to that of the college man and could scarcely hope for good careers and positions. He was not prepared to achieve success in the city, yet he was detached from the agrarian masses and looked down on them. He was a man with aspiration but no future; frustrated, he used his intellect to rob the peasants successfully. Thus, instead of being a stabilizing factor in the rural areas the rootless lower intellectual class became a source of evil.
The appalling conditions in rural China did not escape the attention of all Kuomintang leaders. Interest in rural reconstruction movements was widespread in the mid-1930s. But the effort was meager in relation to the task, and the time was short. After the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War in 1937, the government was entirely absorbed in the fight for national survival. The seat of government was moved into the interior, but there was no change in the top personnel or in their orientation. The tensions of war merely let the weakness accumulate beneath the surface.
When V-J Day came, all the evil symptoms reappeared with double vigor. Corruption in the government reached an all-time high. The head of the cabinet was absorbed in government financial operations which he directed mostly from his office in Shanghai. Meanwhile, large parts of rural China continued to fall into Communist hands. When the régime was faced by a large peasant army, led by the Communists, with nothing to lose but a world to gain, it crumbled like a house of cards.
So far as the rôle of the intellectuals in the Communist movement is known, the lessons seem to be similar. In 1915, Ch'en Tu-hsiu, a scholar of traditional background who had, however, studied in Japan and France, founded the magazine Youth for the purpose of reforming the thought and behavior of the youth in China. According to Ch'en, Confucianism represented fetters to progress which should be ruthlessly thrown off. Warmly supported by a group of foreign-educated professors and intellectuals, including Hu Shih and Lu Hsün, Ch'en's stand caught the imagination of the students, who, having been freed somewhat from the hold of tradition, were psychologically receptive to a new approach. The attack on Confucianism soon developed into a movement for "dumping the national heritage" in general. The students launched a "Family Revolution," a "Theatre Revolution," a "Funeral Revolution," a "Woman of Love Revolution," and so on. All existing institutions and authority now came under attack. On May 4, 1919, some 10,000 students stormed the residence of a high official, set fire to it and critically injured another official, all on mere suspicion that they were traitors. Faced with the crisis, the government faltered and dismissed the officials. From then on, discipline disappeared in Chinese schools. Students went on strike over trifles, and in many cases secured the right to hire and to dismiss their teachers.[iv]
The intellectual and moral tumult of the May 4th period indicated that the collapse of Confucianism created rather than settled problems. For a society that had long been used to a comprehensive explicit system of beliefs, the downfall of Confucianism created a void that had to be filled. The answer of Ch'en Tu-hsiu and his friends was a cry for Mr. Science and Mr. Democracy. Neither, however, represented something easily comprehensible. What was the essence of democracy? How was it to be implemented in China where some 80 percent of the population were illiterate? Was science mere technology, or was it a way of thinking, a philosophy of life? Ch'en and his friends had no satisfactory answer. Lacking the essential knowledge to gain a real insight into Western culture, Ch'en soon identified production and technology as the keys to human progress. At this point a schism developed among the New Thought leaders. One group, led by Ch'en, became Marxists and founded the Chinese Communist Party. Another group, among whom Hu Shih was conspicuous, believed that the American way of life was the best and that by deduction Marxism was wrong. They continued to advocate "total Westernization of China." In time most intellectuals with the latter view were drawn into the orbit of the Kuomintang, while the Communists, after a series of unsuccessful urban insurrections, retreated in the early 1930s into the interior and joined forces with the peasants.
In its early stage, the Chinese Communist movement had a distinctly urban and intellectual flavor. The men most responsible for the founding of the Party were foreign-educated intellectuals. The main issue discussed at the first Party Congress was whether the Party should limit its activity to propagating the Marxist faith or whether it should organize the proletariat for seizure of power. From 1921 to 1935 the Party leadership was in the hands of returned students. Significantly, this was also the period of defeat and frustration for the Party. Dogmatism blinded the intellectuals to the reality in China; they placed their hope on a proletariat that was largely non-existent, and urban insurrections only roused the fear of the masses.
Communist fortunes did not turn until 1932 when the Central Committee under Kuomintang pressure left Shanghai for the interior. The move was decisive. For a decade and a half the Communists, as a result of Kuomintang strategy were confined to the rural areas and were cut off from practically all urban influences. The intellectuals in the Party were forced to reorient themselves towards the peasants. The Party leadership passed into the hands of Mao Tse-tung, a man of rural origin who had given up an opportunity to study in France and who had developed a taste and some aptitude for traditional Chinese poetry. Mao had long stressed the paramount importance of the peasants in a Chinese revolution. Under him, the proportion of men of rural origin in the Communist leadership steadily increased. The Party entrenched itself among the peasants. The old team of intellectuals and peasants appeared in a new form and eventually became invincible.
It is of course true that Communism and Confucianism differ in their basic stands. Confucianism believes in harmony among men; it is humanistic, and it deplores physical violence. Communism, on the other hand, views class struggle as the mechanism by which all political changes take place; it relishes violence and it suppresses all opposition with ruthlessness. Confucianism, despite its emphasis on the family, is essentially individualistic; it is concerned with man as an individual, and the hierarchy of status, so basic for the regulation of man's behavior in the Confucian order, is merely a scale of preference, built upon the proximity of one individual to another in their social relations. This contrasts sharply with the Communist notion that the individual counts mainly through his membership in the class because his ideas--his moral convictions and esthetic preferences--are in the main a reflection of the ideas generated by the class. Lastly, technological progress is inimical to the Confucian order but is actively pursued by all Communist régimes.
Despite these differences, however, certain similarities obtain between the two ideologies. Both are comprehensive explicit systems of belief. Both emphasize the rôle of the élite and exhort sacrifice and devotion on their behalf. Both are authoritarian and paternalistic. Both exalt the group, whether it is the family, the class, or the Party. Both are this-worldly and are little concerned with the supernatural. In both the charismatic quality of the leaders is important. In both the character of the cadres or the literati is cultivated by a process of indoctrination in which persuasion, self-examination and confession form the essential parts.
Weighing the differences against the similarities, one is tempted to conclude that the two ideologies differ more in their basic stands than in their approaches. Apart from the degree of coercion employed, there seems to be little difference in the modus operandi of the two systems. Perhaps it may be said that Communism in China merely turns Confucianism "right side up" by substituting struggle for harmony and the Party for the family. The affinity between the two ideologies is in contrast to the gulf between Chinese tradition and the Anglo-American tradition with its implicit political ideology, its cult of the individual, its economic free enterprise, and its religious belief. The incongruity between these two traditions appears to have been an important factor in China's inability to Westernize--or more specifically, to "Americanize"--herself successfully. Assiduous efforts made towards that end by China's leaders merely resulted in the rise of a treaty-port-oriented intellectual élite.
Looking back, we may conclude that Confucianism, while attaining social stability, impeded technological progress and reduced the adaptability of Chinese society. This constituted one of the basic reasons why the traditional social structure crumbled when a powerful West descended on China. The intellectuals were the first to feel the impact, but a gradual transition proved to be impossible. The reaction from staunch traditionalism was toward unqualified rejection of all of China's cultural heritage. In their pilgrimage to the West, China's intellectuals gained little insight into the essence of the civilization which they so much admired. Technology and production appeared to them the only keys to human progress. Once the necessary shift from a proletarian to a peasant base had been made, Communism provided a ready substitute for the traditional faith.
At another level, Westernized education and experience abroad alienated the top intellectuals from the rural masses. The elimination of ethical teachings individualized their attitude. As a consequence, the power structure in rural China broke down, and the peasants suffered unprecedented misgovernment. By simply adapting themselves to the situation, the Communists became invincible in China. All they needed was a period of consolidation, and this was afforded by the Sino-Japanese War.
My analysis embodies many generalizations that need qualification and omits many relevant factors. For instance, economic factors need to be brought into the general framework. But enough has been said to suggest that the political and social changes in China are largely explainable in terms of men and ideas, and that the success of the Communists is probably due more to their grasp of China's traditions than to the materialistic tenets of their faith. Unless this is recognized, contemporary China will remain a puzzle and the political measures adopted to combat Communism there will probably not achieve the desired effect.
[i] Cf. Wang Shih-chieh, "Education in China" (Shanghai, 1935), p. 18; League of Nations, Institute of Intellectual Coöperation, "The Reorganization of Education in China" (Paris, 1932), p. 165.
[ii] Cf. Ho Jih-pin, "Chinese Education," in Chung-hua Chiao-yü-chieh (Chinese Educational World), v. 19, No. 3, p. 10-11; China, National Land Commission, "A Summary Report of National Land Survey" (Nanking, 1937, Table 21); Chou Yung, "The Reconstruction of Chinese Education," in Chung-hua Chiao-yü-chieh, v. 18, No. 12; Institute of Pacific Relations, "Agrarian China" (Chicago, 1938), p. 171; L. K. Tao, "The Standard of Living of Chinese Workers" (Shanghai, 1931), p. 4; City Government of Greater Shanghai, Bureau of Social Affairs, "Standard of Living of Shanghai Laborers" (1934), p. 158-159.
[iii] Cf. "Chinese Yearbook," 1935-36, p. 503; "The Reorganization of Education in China," op. cit., p. 147.
[iv] Tse-tsung Chow, "The May 4th Movement and Its Influence upon China's Socio-Political Development" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan, 1955), p. 133; Tsi C. Wang, "The Youth Movement of China" (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 1925), p. 81; Tsao Chü-jen, "Wen-t'an San-chieh" (Hong Kong, 1950), p. 18.