Reflections of the Second Generation of Mainlanders: The World I Thought I Knew Was Not What It Seemed: Excerpt from 'The Generation of Memory' (2)

As a 'second-generation Mainlander' researching Mainlanders, the author first faces the challenge of being both 'self' and 'other.' To overcome this dilemma, 'reflexivity'—critical self-questioning and self-analysis—is an essential process. In the multifaceted concept of 'reflexivity' (réflexivité), the French prefix 'ré-' functions similarly to the English 're,' signifying a reflective return by the 'subjective I' upon the 'objective I.' This involves the subject critically examining their own actions.

Born in Taipei, Taiwan, and raised in a military dependents’ village (juancun), the author’s father is from Guangdong and his mother from Hunan. The mother’s first son died in infancy during the War of Resistance against Japan due to malnutrition. The eldest brother was born in 1946 and came to Taiwan with his parents. The second brother was born in 1948, but during the 'Great Retreat of 1949,' the father, serving in the military, could not return home and was forced to leave the infant with his grandmother. From then on, the father never returned to his hometown or saw his second son again. When I asked why he never went back, he explained that he had once served as a police chief in his hometown and had made enemies with the Communists during the anti-Communist campaigns, fearing unpredictable consequences if he returned. Thus, he never set foot in his homeland again. In his later years, to ease his regret, he regularly sent money to his second son. In 2002, my father, who had spent most of his life in Taiwan, passed away at the age of 90. None of us brothers have ever returned to our father’s hometown. This is part of my family’s memory.

As a second-generation Mainlander studying Mainlanders, I immediately felt the difficulty of maintaining objectivity. Detaching myself from my own identity, family, and national memories to analyze issues such as ethnic conflict from an outsider’s perspective has been a long-term challenge for both research and writing. Initially, I did not realize that my views on certain ethnic issues were already entangled with personal emotions. Fortunately, my French advisor, Samia Ferhat, a scholar specializing in Taiwan studies, timely reminded me during the writing process. However, occasional reminders were not enough to overcome long-standing biases—subjective feelings and opinions constantly shadowed my interpretations.

After five years of reading and research, especially through a renewed understanding of Taiwan’s history, the 'me' of today is no longer the 'me' of the past. My perspectives on many issues have shifted. Strictly speaking, maintaining an appropriate distance from the 'past me' and fully achieving reflexive thinking is not easy. To conduct analysis free from emotional interference, continuous introspection throughout the process is necessary. As Academia Sinica scholar Xiao Aqin stated: 'Clearly documenting the transformation of one’s self-identity is a task requiring reflexive thinking. Even among political and cultural elites, those who can clearly record such inner journeys are exceedingly rare' (2007: 157).

After beginning to read historical materials and conducting interviews, I discovered issues I had previously overlooked. First was my long-standing neglect of Taiwan’s history and the February 28 Incident. Second, after interviewing first-generation native Taiwanese women spouses, I was shocked by my ignorance of the life experiences of first-generation native Taiwanese and of Taiwan’s history from the end of the colonial period to the postwar era. For someone who has lived in Taiwan for nearly seventy years, these discoveries completely overturned my long-held understanding of the world around me. Even more surprising was that, after interviewing first-generation Mainlanders, I realized the Mainlander world I thought I knew so well was vastly different from reality!

These discoveries left me in a state of bewilderment for months after interviewing first- and second-generation couples. The assumptions and research questions I had initially set were completely shattered by the information gathered from interviews. I began to doubt whether I could continue the research at all. Faced with this predicament, I suddenly realized that unless I changed the way I viewed the world—unless I went through a process of first dismantling and then rebuilding—I would not be able to objectively confront the issues I sought to explore.

Finally, I must emphasize that as a Mainlander researcher, I must avoid interpreting events solely through my personal life experiences in this book. Instead, I aim to understand and explain the thoughts, feelings, and mentalities of interviewees from their own perspectives, with empathy. Moreover, I must acknowledge that my identity as a Mainlander provided a significant advantage in arranging and conducting interviews. Had I not been a Mainlander, I might have been denied interviews; had I not been a Mainlander, I would not have been able to grasp the collective memories and shared emotions of the interviewees, and without this connection, they would not have trusted me enough to openly share sensitive topics and long-buried memories they had never revealed to outsiders. Had I not been a second-generation Mainlander, I could not have understood the perspectives of both the first and third generations of Mainlanders.

Inspired by German physicist Werner Heisenberg’s 'uncertainty principle,' I have applied it to sociological fieldwork: the relationship between observer and observed, interviewer and interviewee, may influence the interviewee’s free will. As research subjects, interviewees may psychologically guard against or remain wary of the researcher. In such circumstances, if interviewees have even slight doubts about the interviewer’s political stance or ideology, in today’s ideologically polarized Taiwanese society, the materials obtained by researchers of different identities and positions may vary greatly. Therefore, the richness of narrative content reflects the interaction and trust between interviewer and interviewee. Precisely for this reason, as an interviewer/researcher/outsider, I must openly declare my ethnic identity and emphasize my role as a researcher of ethnic relations, expressing my desire to hear diverse voices.

Cover of 'The Generation of Memory: Intermarriage and Identity Among Three Generations of Mainlanders in Taiwan'

*Author Fu Ssu-tai served in the military for nearly 20 years before leaving in 1994 to enter business. He served as head of Taiwan Rebo Enterprise Co., Ltd. and chairman of Ningbo Ruiko Motor Co., Ltd. In 2022, he obtained a Ph.D. in Sociology from the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales (EHESS) in France. In 2023, he was invited as a visiting scholar at the Institute of Sociology, Academia Sinica. This article is excerpted from his book 'The Generation of Memory: Intermarriage and Identity Among Three Generations of Mainlanders in Taiwan' (Lianjing Publishing).