Viewing the Nation as an Artwork, Not as Shredded Paper Under Tyranny: Excerpt from 'The German Empire in World History' (1)

From the perspective of human history, the concept of the 'state' emerged relatively late. The renowned 19th-century Swiss historian Jacob Burckhardt (1818–1897), witnessing the surging nation-building ideologies across Europe, used a remarkably vivid metaphor in his monumental work, The Culture of the Italian Renaissance: 'The State as an Artwork' ('Der Staat als Kunstwerk'). In European cultural tradition, 'art' (ars) refers to human-made creations crafted through skill and ingenuity—contrasted with 'nature' (natura), which denotes what is divinely given, untouched by human hands, and present since the beginning of creation. Burckhardt saw the birth of the 'state' as a conscious, collective effort by people, not as something naturally inevitable. This reflects how Burckhardt, a native of the German-speaking region of Switzerland, spent his life viewing the German nationalist narrative—promoting the idea that shared blood, race, and language must belong to one nation—with deep skepticism. He was also wary of Germany's rise through militarism and its relentless pursuit of becoming a continental 'power.' For many people in 21st-century Taiwan, it is not difficult to understand why Burckhardt refused to echo the dominant historical narratives constructed by powerful regimes. Facing a neighboring country determined to dominate the world, we clearly understand how many civic movements Taiwan has undergone and how many cultural reorientations it has navigated to continuously defend our cherished democratic political system and way of life amid recurring internal and external crises. As a historian, Burckhardt did not conform to the loud German nationalist discourse prevalent in Central and Eastern Europe. With a graceful metaphor, he stated: 'View the state as an artwork.' The state should not be defined by certain individuals as an inevitable inheritance or national mission. Instead, the state is a human-made creation forged by a large group of people pursuing shared ideals of life and governance. It also requires continuous enrichment through humanistic and artistic cultivation to deepen the cultural substance and empathy of society. In 2007, when I published my three-year translation of Burckhardt’s magnum opus, The Culture of the Italian Renaissance, most people assumed it was merely an art history book. Few realized that Burckhardt was using cultural history to explore profound issues of state formation and the relationship between individuals, the state, and society. Twenty years have nearly passed, and the quality and quantity of Taiwan’s translations of world humanities classics continue to improve. Scholars diligently tackling 'celestial texts'—world classics of extreme difficulty—are no longer rare. Recently, reading Professor Liang Sun-chieh’s translation of James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, I felt immense respect and gratitude. I thank heaven for always timely providing Taiwan with cultural devotees who seek no applause or reward, willing to dedicate their lives to these lonely, endless 'celestial texts.' Cultural translators prefer to meticulously deliberate each word, negotiating with foreign authors beyond the grave, rather than hastily rushing through, treating the weighty task of historical and cultural translation as trivial. The three years spent translating Burckhardt’s masterpiece were extremely arduous. I fully understand the silent, difficult times my academic peers have endured translating 'celestial text'-level classics. Yet, I also know why we are willing to devote ourselves silently to cultural translation, sacrificing sleep and meals. It is because, in the process of negotiating word by word with foreign authors beyond the grave, we glimpse the distant light of our homeland’s culture—even if it sometimes appears dim today. But we are not truly alone. The figures and examples of our predecessors are clearly visible. During Taiwan’s authoritarian rule, cultural information was relatively closed. Mr. Tsao Yung-kun (1929–2006), working in the financial sector, opened his living room in Tianmu, Taipei, every weekend, allowing music lovers to freely enjoy precious European classical records he painstakingly ordered from abroad, accompanied by his guided listening sessions. In Taiwan’s politically repressive era, Mr. Tsao frequently visited the General Headquarters to certify that the content of his imported records posed no threat to the political stability valued by the authorities. For nearly two decades, this persistent grassroots effort nourished the people of Taiwan, who longed for spiritual freedom and artistic expression during a stifling era. At the same time, it quietly cultivated a considerable number of classical music enthusiasts across all social backgrounds, ensuring this cultural force could be passed down generationally. Today, Taiwan has become a country many world-class musicians love to perform in, thanks to our passionate classical music fans, a remarkably high proportion of whom are young people. This is not due to 'Eurocentrism' or 'worship of the West,' but rather the result of generations of internationally minded musicians’ dedicated efforts, and the cultural foresight of many respected Taiwanese cultural pioneers. They knew that for Taiwan to thrive in the future, even during difficult, dormant periods, it should not limit itself. Instead, it should steadfastly cultivate citizens’ openness to the wider world and their ability to understand and appreciate diverse cultures. In addition to fostering the ability to understand and appreciate the world’s diverse historical cultures, we must also cultivate sharp analytical thinking to grasp historical complexity. We must avoid letting partial understandings obstruct deeper historical inquiry and prevent traditional myths from continuing to mislead our society. As Burckhardt said, 'cultivating oneself into an informed person' is a 'weighty national duty.' Understanding 'the complexity of history' is like encouraging someone to bravely enter the adult cognitive world—requiring concrete recognition that life and the world are filled with complex dimensions, learning to untangle them, and building independent judgment. Taking German history as an example, Taiwan should abandon the long-standing 'Prussian perspective' linked to militarism and nationalism when viewing Germany’s nation-building and rise to power. In studying powerful states, we should develop research perspectives grounded in Taiwan’s democratic subjectivity, clearly analyzing how powerful states justify themselves and how authoritarian rulers manipulate rhetoric. Taiwan’s history education should strive to cultivate sharp historical insight, capable of thoroughly dissecting the various methods authoritarian rulers use to mythologize themselves. Compared to Britain, France, and even the United States, Germany was a latecomer in state formation. Rather than seeing this as unusual, most nations in the world were established in the 19th and 20th centuries. Germany’s historical position as a 'latecomer state' is tied to its experiences of constant obstruction and suppression by France and Austria. Consequently, German nationalism often opposed key tenets of modern French political thought (e.g., democracy). Opposition often serves to define oneself through resistance to the 'other.' But opposition without universal values and humanistic concern, when overdone, harms both self and others. Human history has repeatedly shown that healthy 'subjectivity' does not stem from indulging in closed, inward-looking mentalities or self-glorification. Healthy 'subjectivity' comes from a willingness to open dialogue, allowing one’s nation’s 'civil society' to grow and thrive, rather than cultivating only obedient citizens dependent on authoritarian rule. Healthy subjectivity also comes from a willingness to build cultural openness and inclusiveness, rather than constantly issuing wolf-warrior-style confrontations, treating any 'other' deemed an obstacle to becoming a powerful state as an enemy to be eradicated. This book is written for readers of all ages and backgrounds in Taiwan—from teenagers and university students to diverse audiences. To promote knowledge accessibility, I have chosen to integrate the latest and best academic research into clear, easy-to-understand historical writing. At a time when Taiwan is actively and vigorously moving toward the world, I hope this book opens fresh, vibrant perspectives for readers interested in modern German history. In this 21st century, when democracy faces unprecedented challenges, I also hope this book helps us better understand that when a nation exists solely to embrace world-dominating 'power,' short-term political self-hypnosis leaves future generations with long-lasting nightmares and bitter consequences. Only by courageously correcting past mistakes and bravely fighting for the democratic freedoms that ensure sustainable national development can a nation build sufficient institutional resilience to respond positively and recover clearly when facing various challenges. As German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier stated in his speech at the British Parliament on December 4, 2025, Germany, having actively turned toward democracy and freedom, has moved beyond the illusion of dominating the world by the law of power and can now clearly embrace the broad free world alongside its former adversaries: 'Today, for freedom, for democracy, for a rules-based international order, we walk side by side. So that the rule of law in this world may triumph over the rule of force.'