Storms, State, and Society in South China Since the Fifth Century Ce
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WEATHERING HISTORY: STORMS, STATE, AND SOCIETY IN SOUTH CHINA SINCE THE FIFTH CENTURY CE A Dissertation submitted to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences of Georgetown University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in History By Clark L. Alejandrino, M.A. Washington DC, USA April 16, 2019 Copyright by Clark L. Alejandrino All Rights Reserved ii WEATHERING HISTORY: STORMS, STATE, AND SOCIETY IN SOUTH CHINA SINCE THE FIFTH CENTURY CE Clark L. Alejandrino, M.A. Thesis Advisers: Carol A. Benedict, Ph.D. and John R. McNeill, Ph.D. ABSTRACT My dissertation looks at typhoons in the history of the richest, most populous, and most typhoon-prone province of China: Guangdong. It considers political, social, cultural, and environmental aspects of typhoons from the fifth to the twentieth century and argues that successive states and generations of Chinese that occupied the province’s littoral regarded it as a “typhoon space.” The real and perceived vulnerability of the Guangdong littoral inspired efforts at community- and state-building that had many consequences. In exploring the deep consciousness of storms and the social structures they inspired in a major part of China, I will contribute to both climate history and Chinese history by reimagining the spatial frameworks within which we study human interactions with the environment. My project takes seriously the constructed nature of the Guangdong littoral as a “typhoon space” and its location in a tropical cyclone basin, arguing that its perceived vulnerability to storms across centuries was as influential in shaping its history as was the destructive force of the storms that so often came ashore. By delineating specific spaces where climatic phenomena have a deep influence on human society and culture, my project facilitates the reimagining of China, and even the world, as consisting of discrete, but at times overlapping, climate spaces. These, crucially, would not be the same as climate regions as understood by climatologists and enshrined in countless maps. Rather, they would be based both on climatic phenomena and social, cultural, and political structures that evolved to cope with climate features. Since climate spaces iii do not neatly coincide with the nation, province, or other familiar spatial categories, my project invites a rethinking of space in Chinese history and more globally in environmental history. Thinking in terms of climate spaces also eases comparisons by providing a common language for speaking about similar phenomena across the globe. For example, we can think of typhoon spaces in the Western Pacific and hurricane spaces in the Caribbean as comparable “storm spaces” within a transnational history of wind, water, risk, and response. It is my hope that reimagining coastal China as a typhoon space and thinking more broadly in terms of climate spaces may serve as catalysts for advancing both global environmental history and the underdeveloped field of Chinese climate history. iv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS On September 26, 2009, Typhoon Ketsana, better known in the Philippines as Typhoon Ondoy, turned Manila into a water world. My entire home was underwater and half my family might have drowned had they not jumped across to our neighbor’s home, which was just one story higher than the floodwater. Though I was not in Manila then, Ondoy still affected me greatly with an anxiety I felt for the safety of my loved ones. When I returned home, Ondoy left its imprint on the landscape and mindscape of Manila through its floodmarks and the many stories people told about it. Trained in Sinology, I wondered if typhoons left its own lasting impressions on the denizens of coastal China. I thank Ondoy first, for I would never have embarked on this dissertation project had it not left such a deep impression in my mind. As I navigated the tempestuous journey called graduate school, many helped me along the way. At Georgetown, Carol Benedict and John McNeill took me under their wing, knowing when to trust my trajectory and when to gently nudge me toward other directions. I would never have written about twentieth-century China if I had not studied it under Carol. She also lavished my writing with great care and often completed my thoughts long before I figured them out. She also got me to see the spatial implications of my work. John inspired me to think at a larger scale and to read more broadly in world and environmental history. A towering figure in the historical profession, he always amazed me with the speed and cheer of his responses to my drafts and emails and how accessible he was despite his inordinately busy schedule. His alacrity came with pithy insight and he never allowed me to lose sight of how my work might reach a larger audience. Carol and John believed in my ideas and nurtured them, treating me more like a junior colleague than a student. I could not have asked for two better advisers. v Micah Muscolino was my first adviser and though he left Georgetown in my third year, he never left me behind. He has always been ready to write me letters and read my drafts whether from rainy Oxford or sunny San Diego. Though we are not far in age, his knowledge of East Asian environmental history is far more advanced and I can only hope to follow in his pathbreaking footsteps. More than anyone else, he constantly reminded me to find my niche in Chinese history in general and Chinese environmental history in particular. Jim Millward, through his classes on Central Eurasia and many conversations, taught me much about the wider world to which China belonged and he did it with a lot of cheer, music, and a few house parties. He was also there to guide me during a particularly difficult period of my studies. Tim Beach taught me how to appreciate the geosciences and their potential uses in history. To have a scientist of Beach’s caliber expressing so much enthusiasm for my work was also most uplifting and made it easier for me to bridge the gap between science and history. None of the work I did for my doctoral studies at Georgetown would have been possible without the solid foundation laid by my first mentors in Sinology at the University of Sydney. Helen Dunstan, Tim Chan, and Derek Herforth combined to teach me Classical Chinese, and the intricacies of sinological research. Helen gave me a firm grasp of late imperial Chinese history and she has been my most steadfast advocate. She never failed to lend me an ear or a sympathetic heart when I needed it. Tim made me appreciate Chinese literature, especially poetry and literary criticism, and I could never have written one of the earlier chapters without his training. He also provided me with library access and food in Hong Kong. Derek made me love Classical Chinese, both reading and teaching it. His constructivist approach made me conscious of the importance of knowing how language means not just what it means. vi Other faculty members of Georgetown’s Department of History shared their expertise and support. Jordan Sand, as my sensei in Japanese history and as Director of Doctoral Studies, helped me to think about the cultural aspects of my dissertation and was always there to provide valuable perspective on academic life and the job market. Adam Rothman, Howard Spendelow, Tommaso Astarita, Erick Langer, Dagomar Degroot, Timothy Newfield, John Tutino, Toshi Higuchi, Chandra Manning, David Painter, David Collins, Ananya Chakravarti, Meredith McKittrick, and Bryan McCann all guided and encouraged me on many occasions that they may not necessarily remember. Outside of Georgetown, Robert Marks, Mark Elvin, Judith Shapiro, and Michael Szonyi also read, commented, and supported my work. Negotiating the bureaucracy of graduate school would have been more difficult without the staff of the Department of History. I thank Carolina Madinaveitia, Miriam Okine-Davies, Jan Liverance, Kathy Gallagher, and Amy Chidester for all that they do to make the department a viable and sane place to work in. Fellow graduate students accompanied me on my academic journey on the hill. I thank Jonathan Van Harmelen, William Buchholtz, Anthony Eames, Jackson Perry, Graham Pitts, Jordan Smith, Alex Macartney, Chad Frazier, Laura Goffman, Kate Dannies, Daniel Cano, Gao Yuan, Shen Yubin, Shi Yue, Jason Halub, John Gregory, Robynne Mellor, Alan Roe, Bader Al-Saif, and Faisal Hussain for their company. Various institutions funded my graduate studies and research. Georgetown’s Graduate School of Arts and Sciences and the Department of History provided me with a generous five- year fellowship and some money to attend conferences. The Luce Foundation and ACLS made it possible for me to do initial research in China in the summer of 2014. Jim Millward and Michelle Wang gave me a pre-doctoral fellowship under their Mellon-funded Critical Silk Road Studies Seminar series in spring of 2015. A research grant from the Center for Chinese Studies at the vii National Central Library of Taiwan allowed me to begin my research years away from Georgetown at lovely Taipei in summer and fall of 2015. A Mellon SSRC International Dissertation Research Fellowship allowed me to complete the bulk of my research in China during the entire 2016. A Chiang Ching-kuo Foundation doctoral fellowship (project number DD032-A-16) in 2017 allowed me to conduct mop-up research and begin writing the dissertation. Georgetown’s Department of History gave me the opportunity to teach in the summer of 2018, while the Department of East Asian Languages and Cultures, under Philip Kafalas, entrusted me with their students in spring of 2019. During my travels, I met and benefited from the advice and company of many amazing individuals.