“Exactly!”
“But that is rebellion against the emperor.”
“Is there any other way?”
“Japan still has an emperor.”
“We are not Japan. Japan is experiencing her awakening. China is in the process of collapse. We want to speed up that collapse so as to rise again, free of oppression.”
“But the Chinese Older Generation is famed for its wisdom, the great heritage it has left China, books and cultural artifacts, a high civilization.…”
“True, but that was the Older Generation when it was the Young Generation. This is the modern age. Any nation and people that cannot absorb the power of Europe, and then arise and utilize it, will be swallowed up by Europe. We have to make our China equal with Europe without becoming Europe, as Japan is doing.”
“Do you really believe in what you are saying?”
“That belief is, indeed, precisely the power that mobilizes us. We have never been conquered by another race, and we are not willing to undergo that experience. On the other hand, we have no dreams of conquering other races. That is our belief. Our people have a saying: ‘In the sky there is heaven, on earth there is Hanchou,’ and we young people have added: ‘In the heart is faith.’”
“You speak like a member of the English parliament,” Nijman flattered him. “You desire and are struggling for a new form of authority.” There was insult in Nijman’s voice. “You want China to become a republic?”
“Yes.”
“You want to rival the United States and France?” Nijman smiled arrogantly.
“Is there any other road that new nations can take in this modern age?”
“While most of the countries of Europe are not yet republics!”
“That’s nothing to do with us.”
“Yet you yourself still wear the thau-cang.”
Khouw Ah Soe smiled politely, bowing. Nijman seemed unable to restrain his amusement and laughed also. I, on the other hand, was offended. Nijman’s words went too far. It was Khouw Ah Soe’s right to wear a pigtail.
“Do you know the meaning of the pigtail?” Khouw Ah Soe suddenly asked in reply.
“No. It must be very important.” There was a smile on Nijman’s face. “Tell us about it.”
“It’s an unusual story, the story of the pigtail. There was once a time when Europe so admired our civilization that the French took to wearing pigtails. Then, sir, the Dutch took on the practice also. So too did the Americans wear thau-cangs.”
Nijman went pale. He murmured agreement.
“But that was when Europe had not known us long. Of course it is not like that now. Even so, it is still quite amazing: Europeans wearing pigtails! Even the Americans, during their revolution! During France’s period of triumph and glory, they not only copied the pigtail but also the habit of eating frogs, which the rest of humanity looked upon as degrading. And what was, in truth, the thau-cang, sir? Nothing more than a symbol of slavery and obedience, originating during the period when China was ruled by the people from the north. Sir, the pigtail in China was a symbol of humiliation. In Europe it was the other way around; it was a symbol of triumph, at one time, during one era. In China people used to eat frogs because of their poverty; in Europe it was a part of its grandeur. So topsy-turvy is history. The mighty race that forced us to wear pigtails is now being subjugated by the Japanese, who seek iron and steel and coal to make themselves strong. That is if I’m not mistaken.”
“A very interesting interview”—Nijman gave his assessment—“almost a lecture.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Editor, it was not my intention to give a lecture. This is a very important moment for me. It is the first time, perhaps, that a member of the Chinese Young Generation has been interviewed like this.”
“This Young Generation—it has no publications of its own?”
“In this modern era, there is no movement that does not have its own publications, sir. And vice versa, sir, isn’t it so? Every publication must represent some specific interest or power group, even your own publication. I’m not wrong, am I?”
“And when will you cut off your humiliating pigtail?”
“There will be a time for that, sir.”
“What was your purpose in coming to the Indies?”
“To see the world.”
“Oh. Ya. You are the son of a merchant who sells anything that can be sold, yes?”
Khouw Ah Soe nodded in affirmation.
“You came by yourself. But you are a member of the Young Generation. How is it possible you have no friends with you, and have just come here to see the world?”
“Perhaps we have a different idea of what the word friend means. Our members are just workers, carrying out history. That is what I am as well. We are only ants who want to erect a new castle of history.”
“Mr. Khouw Ah Soe, it seems to me that you are not just a high-school graduate. It appears that you have studied at university. The way you bow is not Chinese but Japanese. It seems you are trying to hide the fact that you have lived in Japan—for at least two or three years. You are, at the very least, a very intelligent university student.”
“Truly a compliment to be valued highly, sir.”
“And you haven’t come to the Indies by yourself.”
“I wish that were true; I would not be so lonely.”
“It is not the Chinese way to wander around by oneself.”
“Oh yes? It appears you have a great knowledge of the Chinese. Well, if you are right, let me ask you: May not a Chinese with some European education be somewhat different from his own group and people?”
“Mr. Khouw Ah Soe, what is your opinion of an elephant that leaves its herd? Isn’t he a very dangerous elephant? Can’t you be compared to such an elephant? You are a member of the Chinese Young Generation, a member that has left its group. It is certain you are not here just to wander around and look at the sights.”
“Wonderful. Then you must be right.”
“Why is that?”
“Because according to our ancestors, the host must always be honored.”
“You have a very clever tongue. May I now put to you the last question? Did you enter the Indies legally or did you sneak in?”
“A very good question, one that history will also put to the peoples of Europe: Oh, you peoples of Europe—and not just individuals—did you enter the Indies legally or did you sneak in? It is you yourself who must answer that question, not me. Good afternoon.”
Khouw Ah Soe rose from his chair. Smiling, he shook hands with me, then with Nijman, bowed, and left the office.
For several moments Nijman sat numbed, his gaze riveted on the door now closed behind his guest. Then, realizing his condition, he turned to me, saying, “Yes, Mr. Minke, write up the interview in English. It looks like he is hiding quite a lot. He says he’s from north China, but he has a southerner’s name. Says he has never been to Japan but is unable to rid himself of Japanese customs like that bowing of his.…” He didn’t go on with his grumblings.
I began to write it up. Less than an hour later I left the office. I still had time to pick up May. I dropped into a shop: I had to buy something for the little girl. I found a doll that looked very much like Annelies.
May’s school hadn’t finished for the day. I had to wait a few minutes. As soon as school was over, May caught sight of my buggy, ran to us, climbed aboard, and called out to some of her friends to join her. So we had no choice but to transport this gang of little chatterboxes to their homes. May’s house was the last one.
As she was about to climb down from the buggy, I opened up the box and handed her the doll. She jumped up and down in excitement. She kissed me over and over again. She kissed the plump, pretty doll too.
“Climb down, May. I have to go straight on.”
“No, I don’t want to climb down!” she rebelled.
“Ah, you’re being naughty. I’ve still got a lot of work to do.”
“Everyone’s got a lot of work to do
. Me too. Come on, come in.”
“No, May.”
She went silent. Her eyes moistened, then she cried in French: “Here’s your doll. I’m giving it back. Uncle doesn’t like Papa anymore.”
“You’re getting more and more spoiled, May,” I said, but the words kneaded my heart. How great was this child’s love for her father; she didn’t want to see her father lose a friend. “All right then, I’ll take you inside.”
I climbed down ahead of her, carrying her schoolbag. She carried the doll herself. She ran inside. “Papa!” she shouted. “May was given a doll by Uncle Minke. Isn’t Uncle Minke kind, Papa?”
I came in and saw the child cuddle up to her father. I heard Jean Marais answer, “Very kind, May.”
I avoided looking at the paintings. My heart was troubled by the girl’s behavior, which had thrown my feelings into confusion. In a flurry she brought in some drinks. After putting the glasses on the table she gave me a long look, then those big eyes of hers gazed at her father.
“Why doesn’t Papa talk to Uncle Minke?” she demanded.
“That painting is finished now, Minke.”
The child observed her father, then me.
“Are there other things that you want to paint, Jean?”
“Yes, there are many more.”
“Why isn’t Uncle laughing, or smiling and grinning as you usually do?” May demanded.
So I laughed and laughed until I felt my jaw would drop off. Seeing all this, Jean Marais also laughed boisterously. May was the only one who didn’t laugh. All of a sudden she embraced her father, and wouldn’t let go.
Jean Marais and I went silent on seeing the child’s strange behavior.
“What is it, May?” She let go of her papa and ran into her room. We heard her howling; it seemed she would never stop.
I ran into her room. She was hiding her face under her pillow and her arms were hugging the edges of the mattress of the small wooden divan.
“May, May, what’s the matter?”
I took the pillow from her face and caressed her head. Slowly the crying faded. I sat her up; she didn’t resist.
“Don’t cry, May. Don’t make Papa and Uncle Minke sad.” She didn’t want to look at me. Jean Marais came in, limping, and sat on the divan.
“The two of us don’t understand, May. What is it?” I asked. Still she wouldn’t look at either of us.
“Do you love your papa?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Do you love Uncle Minke?”
She nodded again.
“We both love you very, very much. Don’t cry!”
But she started howling again. Between her sobs she protested: “You’re lying to me. You’ve become enemies.”
Later in the evening, having convinced May that the two of us hadn’t become enemies, I was able to go home.
Soerabaiaasch Nieuws van den Dag hadn’t yet published my interview with Khouw.
The next afternoon the much-awaited report finally appeared. It wasn’t a headline, but it was placed in a prominent corner with an attention-getting title: “A Meeting with a Member of the Chinese Young Generation.” I was tremendously pleased that my first work in English was good enough to be used by Nijman. I would enjoy it after dinner.
After dinner I sat with Mama in the front room. Seeing her so busy with all kinds of calculations, I quickly said: “It’s late, Ma. Give them here; let me do them.”
“No, this is very personal. That wolf wants fifteen percent. I’m only prepared to let him have five.”
I knew the wolf was Mijnheer Dalmeyer, an accountant. There was no need for me to interfere. Why bargain over percentages? But my curiosity was aroused and I asked about it.
“Just read your newspaper.”
Now and then I caught a glimpse of the figures on the sheets of paper. Figures and totals with six digits. I made a quick guess: the value of the whole business. She didn’t take much longer to finish her work; then she told me: “Tomorrow I’m going to withdraw Annelies’s money from the bank, Minke. I want to know how you feel: Do you feel I’m violating your rights by doing that?”
“Mama! What are you saying? I don’t have any such rights!”
“No, Minke. No matter what, you are my own son, the same age as Robert. And you know that this business is going to be taken over by somebody that the law says has a greater right to it. I want to start another business. I need Annelies’s money. Her savings from the last six years aren’t all that much. She saved all of it—less than three thousand. I can invest that money in your name.”
“No, Mama, thank you very much. But no.”
I began to read. But what was this? From the very first line, there was no similarity to the interview that had taken place. It read like this:
At eleven o’clock last Monday morning there appeared at the editorial office of this paper a member of the Chinese Young Generation. This person wanted to sell us information about his movement. He gave his name as Khouw Ah Soe, his place of birth as Tientsin, and said he was a graduate of an English-language High School in Shanghai, and was aged about twenty years. His entry into the Indies was no doubt illegal! And we would not be wrong in assuming that he arrived as a member of a large group with orders from their organization’s headquarters in Japan.
As we all know, there have been many disturbances in the Indies since the arrival of members of this Young Generation. They openly seek the rapid abolition of the pigtail. The violation of this time-honored custom of China must be resisted.
From the very moment they arrived, they have been opposed by the Chinese sinkeh and Mixed-Blood subjects of the Indies. These former love and respect their ancestors, and feel that to lose one’s pigtail is to lose one’s Chineseness. They condemn the idea and any effort to abolish the pigtail.
Khouw Ah Soe came to Surabaya about two months ago. He doesn’t speak Malay, but speaks good English, Mandarin, and Hokkien, and there are reports he has mastered two other southern dialects as well. Within a week of his arrival in Surabaya it appears he was able to influence several people. Together with these he organized a public meeting in the Kong Koan building. There he explained his lie, that the thau-cang was a symbol of humiliation that had its origins during a period of Mongol domination. And that it was a sign of the Chinese people’s slavery under the northerners. The pigtail is no symbol of honor for the Chinese, he said.
The Kong Koan building burst into an uproar. The fury of the crowd couldn’t be restrained. The whole debate was conducted in Hokkien. They all demanded: Cut his pigtail so he will be cursed by his ancestors!
According to our reporter, Khouw Ah Soe alone remained calm. He was not unnerved by the threats. He shifted his pigtail from his back across to his chest. Smiling he spoke: “Don’t worry! I myself have already begun.”
He lifted up his hair, and the pigtail was false. His hair was cut short; he was almost bald.
The crowd charged the speaker and the meeting’s organizers. Fighting broke out and there were many cries and shouts. Various martial arts left many people sprawled on the floor, some with broken bones. Khouw Ah Soe himself, with his false thau-cang, was taken to the hospital where he was to undergo treatment for fifteen days.
He has escaped from the hospital and it looks like he has run out of both energy and money. The Chinese community of Surabaya has rejected him. He has not received any support, especially not funds. His attempt to sell us information is a sign of his failure. He is in very, very difficult straits.
What I had transcribed was nowhere to be found; there wasn’t even the slightest similarity. One thing was clear however: Khouw Ah Soe would be in great difficulty as a result of this article.
“Why are you gasping like that?” asked Mama.
I told her what had happened. She also read the report.
“How could they lie in an article like this? Something that should be respected because it’s going to be read by thousands of people?” I exclaimed.
Mama looke
d at me with pity in her eyes.
“Don’t be sentimental. You’ve been educated to respect and even deify Europe, to trust in it unreservedly. Then, every time you discover reality—that there are Europeans without honor—you become sentimental. Europe is no more honorable than you, Child! Europe is only superior in the fields of science, learning and self-restraint. No more than that. Look at me, an example that is near to you—me, a villager, but I can hire Europeans and their skills. You can too. If they can be hired by anyone who can pay them, why can’t the devil hire them too?”
Why can’t the devil hire them? I lifted my eyes to look at her. Nyai was standing before me. She looked so tall, like a giant, like a mountain of coral. What kind of person was she? The whole world admired Europe because of its glorious history, because of its extraordinary achievements, its literary works, because of Europeans’ abilities, their forever-new creations, and their newest creation of all: the modern age. My thoughts flew quickly to that anonymous tract that Magda Peters had given me. Among other things, it had said: The Natives of the Indies, and especially the Javanese, who have been defeated again and again in battle for hundreds of years now, have not only been forced to acknowledge the superiority of Europe, but have also been forced to feel inferior. And the Europeans, wherever they saw Natives not contracting the disease of inferiority, viewed them as a fortress of resistance that must be subjugated.
The tract went on to say: Is the European colonial view appropriate? It is not only unjust, it is not right. But colonial Europe doesn’t stop there. After the Natives have fallen into this humiliation and are no longer able to defend themselves, they are ridiculed with the most humiliating abuse. Europeans make fun of the Native rulers of Java who use superstition to control their own people, and who are thereby spared the expense of hiring police forces to defend their interests. The Powerful Goddess of the South Java Seas is a glorious creation of Java whose purpose is to help preserve the authority of the native kings of Java. But Europe too maintains superstitions—the superstition of the magnificence of science and learning. This superstition prevents the conquered peoples from seeing the true face of Europe, the true nature of the Europe that uses that science and learning. The European colonial rulers and the Native rulers are equally corrupt.