In 2011, The Republic of China (ROC) celebrated its centennial in Taiwan. Often dubbed Taiwan's 100th anniversary, many have argued that the island's history not only precedes this by more than 30,000 years, but has also been characterised by its very autonomous nature. That is, in terms of Chinese involvement on the island, its history has been more disconnected than connected with that of its continental neighbour across the 180 km. strait. Reconstructed Taiwan historiography from the latter parts of the 1980s concluded that written accounts of the Dutch excursions to Taiwan in 1623 provided no evidence of the existence of a permanent Chinese settlement there. Rather, Taiwan was used by China and Japan as a temporary base for trade, fishing, and – most importantly – piracy. It is with this period of Dutch colonialism and the establishment of a more permanent Han Chinese settlement, that Tonio Andrade begins his narrative in Lost Colony.
Its division into three sections makes the book very accessible. The first section, essentially an introduction to the characters, is followed (the second section) by the opening of battle, dramatised by the forces of nature and romanticised through the piratical notions of parlay and surrender. The third, and final, part closes in on Koxinga's victory and examines the differing accounts of his death, all of which seem to hint at a bout of some kind of madness, perhaps precipitated by malarial fever.
Sidestepping typical histories that engage with the actions and perspectives of those who have assumed or retained power, Andrade opens with a micro-historical account of the island's last governor: Frederick Coyet; the accused patsy. Andrade introduces him kneeling in front of the dusty gallows that faced the Batavia River in the Dutch fortified eastern stronghold. What was his crime? The loss of Taiwan. Two themes emerge from the Dutch accounts: one is Coyet's alleged failure to satisfactorily defend the fortified outpost; the other is Coyet's own rejection of any dereliction of duty in the face of attacking forces. Coyet insisted throughout that the loss of Taiwan was not his fault, but reflected the negligence of the High Councillors in Batavia who had failed to reinforce the outpost. There was general agreement between the Dutch factions that Taiwan had been ‘lost’, and that it was result of Dutch failures, i.e. each side blamed the other for this outcome. Central to Andrade's analysis however, “is an assumption. . .that the Dutch could have defeated Koxinga” (p. 6) if it were not for the Other.
This book is not the story of Coyet though, but the story of the often neglected non-European character – the “pale and scarred and handsome, deadly with a samurai sword and a bow and arrow” – Koxinga (p. 9). The story of Koxinga, as he is known in the west (or Zheng Chenggong) is full of interest, not least because he represented the end of what can arguably be called the maritime tradition of the Ming Dynasty. Andrade persuasively shows that as someone whose destiny was so deeply ‘entwined’ with the Dutch colony, Koxinga's father, Zheng Zhilong, is key to the narrative. The Dutch gave Zheng a job as a translator in the newly acquired colony. In his account of its beginnings, Zheng was assiduous to detail, giving particular attention to how the Dutch dealt with Min pirates who were using Taiwan as a base. He was surprised that the Dutch neither drove them away, nor captured and enslaved them. Instead, they invited them to stay; encouraged them to work; and nurtured them as privateers. The Dutch felt Zheng to be an incompetent translator, but a great pirate. By 1627, he was leading an ‘armada’ of four-hundred junks and tens of thousands of men. Assuming the image of a maritime Robin Hood, Zheng robbed the rich to feed the poor. Meanwhile, however, as conferral of official rank and title from the Ming Court enhanced Zheng's legitimacy, his relations with the Dutch changed. The ‘drums of war’ began to sound and in the summer of 1633 the first conflagration between the Dutch and Zheng family occurred.
Essentially a subaltern study of the entwined destinies of the Dutch colonial outpost and the Zheng family, Andrade is at pains to show that it was the maritime discipline and training of the Zheng family's – especially Koxinga's – armed forces that overcame the superiority of Dutch cannons and musket, thereby breaking the Dutch formations and leading to the loss of Taiwan. In his closing remarks, Andrade draws many interesting conclusions from his analysis. He divides these into topics of inquiry that seek to (re)examine more traditional interpretations of military tradition, which, have tended to emphasise western military superiority over the rest of the world. Andrade's comments are a refreshing antidote to this orthodoxy and by encouraging further research on non-European military traditions and practices, promise to redress misinformed interpretations of military discipline as being uniquely European.
Any supposed Dutch military superiority notwithstanding, in the end victory went to the side that showed adaptability and a willingness to listen to others’ advice. Andrade argues that Coyet's refusal to listen to others, especially to the advice given by Chinese defectors, was a key failing. Instead, there is a suggestion that his cultural arrogance repeatedly led him to make foolish decisions, such as launching of assault rather than imposing a blockade, which (to paraphrase Andrade) would not only have starved Koxinga's troops, but would also have dissuaded many Chinese seafarers from attempting to cross the strait (see p. 326).
By contrast, Koxinga displayed great adaptability. Andrade argues that this was partly attributable to his multicultural heritage, which included a Japanese mother and a Portuguese speaking Catholic father. The same quality of adaptability was evident in his employment of African soldiers, his own wearing of European dress, and the use of Japanese styled armour worn by his famous ‘Iron Men’. Nor should one ignore the role played by a German defector, to whom Koxinga listened attentively. Out of this emerges Andrade's view, and the fundamental abstraction of his book (see p. 326), is that modernisation is itself a process of ‘interadoption’. This suggests a need to broaden one's understanding of modernity in order to find its deeper and more complex roots. One of the great merits of Andrade's book is that it provides a global context from which to deconstruct the global history of modernity that has for so long been dominated by Euro-centrism and, closer to home and perhaps to an even greater extent, the Sino-centric view point of Taiwanese historiography.
One must however, be cautious about using historical hindsight in interpreting past events. It is one thing to say that Koxinga's victory was critical in the struggle for Taiwan; it is another to say (as Andrade maintains) that this represented a major triumph over the west. Had Koxinga taken on the Dutch at Batavia, the Spaniards directly in the Philippines, or the Portuguese in Macao, would he have fared differently? The simple answer is that it is impossible to know. Perhaps therefore the significance of the battle, even the skirmish, that surrounded the Dutch loss of Taiwan, lies in the evidence it offers that military capabilities and disciplines were not simply the monopoly of the west, but were also (as they still are) deeply rooted in non-European cultures. The revision of such concepts has important implications for the interpretation of conflicts between European nations and peoples that have conventionally relied in European documentation and it is in this sense that Andrade's analysis is so useful.
The micro-historical basis from which Andrade writes offers an opportunity for a richer synthesis of historical writings through the fusion of the everyday experiences of real people into the subject matter of more traditional forms of scholarly analysis. From this perspective, Lost Colony makes a major contribution not only to the historiography of Taiwan, but indeed to that of the wider genre of maritime Asia. It provides an excellent basis for comparative inter-disciplinary studies.
The use of sources is outstanding, and Andrade has made a great contribution to the literature through his extensive use of primary Dutch and Chinese source materials (in the latter case drawn from both sides of the Taiwan Strait). As for secondary source material, Andrade makes impressive use of the work of Leonard Blussé, John E. Jr. Wills, Jack Wills, Eugenio Barao, Jared Diamond, Xing Hang, Deng Kongzhao and others, demonstrating his command of the relevant historical literature in many European languages. This said, one important source that is missing is the seminal work of Tsao Yung-ho, who has done so much to bring to light archival-based material on Taiwan history. Andrade's book also serves to highlight very recent scholarship, such as Dahpon Ho's PhD dissertation on the maritime frontier of Fujian province in the seventeenth century.
Andrade's analysis is also significant from the perspective of contemporary debates and issues surrounding Taiwan's status and identity. For example, in his conclusion he poignantly referred to the reported renaming of the PRC's aircraft carrier, Ex-Varyag, to Shi Lang, after the Admiral who first brought Taiwan under Qing rule in 1683 following the defeat of Koxinga's grandson, Zheng Keshuang. Had it have taken on the admiral's name, instead of Liaoning – a namesake of the province, would this have been symbolic of China's determination not to let the question of Taiwan's status remain unresolved? Moreover, in his comments on the Taiwan Relations Act (TRA) – a United States Act of Congress designed to protect Taiwan – Andrade correctly points out that technology alone does not win wars. Leadership is also a key element in military victory, and in the seventeenth century it was Koxinga, the ‘King of the Sea’, who emerged victorious in spite of the odds being stacked against him.
The story of Koxinga, deified in a Taiwanese temple (Yanping junwang ci) in Tainan (the former Dutch colony), is also a reminder of something that is, according to Andrade, often overlooked “the fact that Heaven is the supreme determinant of human affairs” (p. 328). Here, unlike Koxinga's Taiwanese devotees, Andrade is not talking about a God or supernatural entities. Rather, he suggests that regardless of technological capabilities one is always at the mercy of nature – something that was understood by both Koxinga and Coyet equally. This review finishes by offering some food for thought, the ‘what if’ anecdote that Andrade puts forth:
But when he [Koxinga] anchored his fleet at Sheep Island, a typhoon scattered ships and drowned troops. The following year, when he did manage to penetrate the Yangtze, a large Manchu force was returning from its southwestern adventures and helped defeat him. If that storm hadn't struck, Koxinga might have taken Nanjing in 1658. He might have turned the tide against the Qing. He might have never invaded Taiwan (p. 328).
After all, to quote Andrade, “that episode of climate change was nothing compared to what we're likely to see in the twenty-first century” (p. 329).
