The writer’s wife is one of the granddaughters of TKK. She and I were just two of the many of his extended family members from Singapore and overseas who attended this memorable seminar. My wife was too young to remember much of her famous grandfather, but can still recall vividly her family’s post World War II annual visit on Chinese New Year Day to pay their respects to him at his favourite club, Ee Hoe Hean, where they would meet numerous relatives and an endless stream of other visitors who would also call on him on this auspicious day. This club had become his home where he would spend most of his time holding meetings and discussions with others on community work, often well past midnight. He had less and less time for his own large family and seeing them only on special occasions. I had never met TKK but had garnered my knowledge of him through my late mother-in-law who had lived with her father both in Singapore and in China for a period before her marriage, and through reading books and other publications about him. I was both amused and impressed by his business acumen to marry off her daughter to my father-in-law, who was one of his ablest staff, in order that he would not lose his services to others!

TKK emigrated from his native Jimei Village, near Xiamen City in China’s Fujian Province, to Singapore in 1891 at the age of 17 in order to seek his pot of gold there. Despite having had only eight years’ schooling, he was nevertheless highly literate. He joined his father’s sundry goods business as his assistant and book-keeper. He quickly proved his entrepreneurial flair in commercial matters. By 1906, he had already become a wealthy man through the widening of his initial business activities to include rubber trading and manufacturing, rice mills and pineapple canning. From then on his businesses expanded further to encompass enterprises like shipping, real estate, shoes manufacturing and newspaper publishing. By the time he was 45, he had become one of the richest men in Singapore and in this region. He also made his mark as the undisputed leader of the Singapore’s Chinese community and his views and support were often sought by the colonial government, especially on matters which affected Chinese Singaporeans. At the peak of his commercial career between 1918 and 1925, his business enterprises throughout Southeast Asia and China employed more than 10,000 people. He had amassed a colossal fortune exceeding $12 million Singapore dollars.

By this time, he had already founded and funded many schools and colleges in his native Fujian and in Singapore and had also generously supported other charitable causes too. The poor pupils in China enjoyed free of charge schooling. In 1920, he established the first private university in China, the Xiamen University. He had earlier sought funding support from among the many wealthy Chinese business tycoons both in Singapore and in the region.To his great disappointment, not much was forthcoming. He had no choice but to almost singlehandedly funded its annual operating expenses himself in order not to delay the launch of this ambitious but much needed project. He bore this heavy financial burden for several years until financial help emerged from others, especially from his wealthy close relatives and friends. TKK continued to help finance the university and other educational institutions in China with his vastly reduced fortune even after his businesses failed because of the severe worldwide depression of the late 1920s. Altogether, he had given away virtually all his wealth of more than 12 million dollars, leaving nothing for his large family. It is estimated what he had donated to support education would be equivalent to today’s several hundred million US dollars (based on present day purchase price parity computation).

What motivated TKK to give away all his wealth to advance education in China and elsewhere? In a nutshell, he believed with unwavering conviction that it was only through education that a nation could become economically and technologically advanced. In the context of the then China, the bulk of its massive population were illiterate as they could not afford basic schooling. His own native Fujian Province was no exception. With a population of more than 10 million, it had a paucity of schools and no university until he established the Xiamen University there in 1920.

Besides being a philanthropist extraordinary, TKK was a passionate believer in social justice for Singapore’s Chinese Singaporeans. Whenever they were unfairly treated by the colonial government. he would fearlessly speak up for them or take firm action to protect their interests. As a Chinese national living overseas, he remained patriotic to his motherland. For instance, when Japan invaded China in 1937 and an eight-year war ensued between them, TKK took immediate decisive action to raise large sums of money from the Chinese community in Singapore to support China’s war efforts against the Japanese invaders. He also organised a contingent of Chinese Singaporean volunteers to participate in the war. In view of his unflinching anti-Japan stand, the Japanese military regime would have had him killed when they conquered Singapore in 1941. He managed to escape to Indonesia, which also fell to the Japanese, and succeeded to survive there, largely because he was loyally shielded by the Chinese community during his four years’ stay. I learnt that he always had with him a packet of poison substance so that he could swallow it and die as a patriot if needs be, rather than falling into the enemy’s hands and be executed by them. TKK returned to Singapore after the war and was accorded a rousing welcome by its Chinese community.

TKK continued his active public work in Singapore and kept in close touch with the progress of his educational institutions in China. He finally decided to return to China for good in 1950 so that he could devote his time there to more closely supervising those institutions established by him. He died in 1961 at the age of 87 at a Beijing hospital. He was accorded a state funeral presided over by Prime Minister Zhou Enlai and attended by many top Chinese political elites and other prominent Chinese from other walks of life. Even Chairman Mao praised him as an outstanding overseas Chinese leader and a glory to the Chinese race. A rare honour indeed for TKK who had lived in Singapore for more than 60 years of his life and his passing was deeply mourned in his adopted country. He was buried in his beloved native Jimei Village, very close to some of the educational institutions founded by him. His entire asset exceeding one million RMB, a considerable sum then, was given to the educational bodies there, and none to his family.

TKK has often been compared with the legendary American multi-millionaires Dale Carnegie and Henry Ford, both of whom had richly endowed educational institutions in America and had also set up trust foundations to do so to this day. However, there is a fine distinction between him and them and the rich anywhere else. In TKK’s case he gave away virtually his entire fortune leaving practically nothing at all for his large family; his counterparts in other countries would always preserve a significant portion of their enormous wealth for their own family members, before giving the remainder away. It is quite unlikely that Singapore or any other country can produce someone as selfless as TKK for a long time to come. Another hallmark of his greatness was that he eschewed self-glorification for what he had done and had firmly declined repeated attempts by educational institutions founded by him to name some of the important buildings or other facilities in his honour.

Long after TKK’s death, another feather in his cap came from an unexpected source. In order to further enhance his international reputation as a life long staunch supporter of education, Prof. Y.T Lee, of the University of California’s world-renowned Berkeley Campus, who is a chemistry Nobel price winner and an ardent admirer of TKK, spearheaded a fund raising campaign in 1990 to have the new US$ 40 million 7-storey new postgraduate chemical engineering building named after him provided he succeeded in raising US$ 8.5 million by a certain deadline. The professor, who had never met TKK, believed that this would be a concrete recognition of TKK’s achievements and unwavering belief in the importance of education in national development, which has a universal value, and Berkeley would be the suitable place to do it. He then traveled to many cities in the States and to Southeast Asia and Hong Kong at his own expense to persuade would be donors to support this worthy project. His hard work over several years finally paid off and he managed to obtain the 8.5 million needed to name the structure after TKK. The bulk of the money came from donors in Singapore, Malaysia, Taiwan, Indonesia, Thailand and United States. The Tan Kah Kee Hall is commonly called the Tan (pronounced as Ten) Hall by Berkeley staff and students for ease of remembering it.

This brings to mind an article that I wrote in 1997 on TKK’s contributions to education and his achievements in business and in other fields, and the naming of the chemical engineering building at Berkeley in his honour . An edited version appeared as the Cover Story in Singapore’s leading newspaper The Straits Times’ Life! Supplement on September 11, 1997. I would like to share the original version of it with my readers and it is posted immediately after the above article.

Lam Pin Foo

Among the prominent ethnic Chinese business leaders in Southeast Asia, one man stands apart from the rest of the pack and achieved a stature and acclaim not accorded to others. His name is Tan Kah Kee (1874-1961), who became a legend in his life time. A man of great vision, drive and unflinching convictions, he was an indefatigable champion of education and social justice, and a philanthropist par excellence and patriot.

Throughout his long life, he utilised his considerable financial resources and personal influence for the maximum benefit of the communities in China, Singapore and the region. Tan Kah Kee’s greatest and most enduring contributions, for which posterity will remember him affectionately, are in the field of education.

He was the first Chinese to have founded a major university, the Xiamen University, single-handedly. He also founded colleges and schools in his native Jimei, near Xiamen in Fujian province, and provided the pupils there with free education at a time when this was inaccessible. His colleges in Jimei came of age in recent years and were upgraded to a full-fledge university in 1996, a dream envisaged by him long ago.

In Singapore, many schools and tertiary institutions had benefited from his farsighted leadership and munificence. The Singapore Chinese Chamber of Commerce set up the Tan Kah Kee Foundation and also endowed a chair in history at the Nanyang Technological University to promote scholarship and innovations in his memory.

Thirty-five years after his death, his fame has now spread beyond the shores of Asia, to far away United States. The world-renowned University of California, Berkeley, which has produced more Nobel prize winners than any other universities, recently commissioned a US$ 40 million major science building and named it Tan Kah Kee Hall, in recognition of his distinguished service to education.

How the Berkeley accolade came about makes interesting reading. In the 1980s, the University was planning to construct a major chemical engineering building to cater to its growing needs. It would consider naming it after a deserving benefactor who would donate a substantial sum towards the building cost.

Professor Y T Lee, then teaching chemistry at Berkeley and who was the fourth ethnic Chinese to have won a Nobel prize in chemistry in 1986, is an ardent admirer of Tan Kah Kee for his selfless and unwavering commitment to education for its own sake. He believed that Tan ought to have international recognition, such as extended to Andrew Carnegie and Henry Ford, for his unprecedented efforts and exceptional achievements and that Berkeley would be an eminently suitable forum for it. This would also raise the level of American awareness of Chinese culture and civilisation, and their profound love and respect for scholarship, which most Americans were blissfully ignorant of.

With the active support of Prof. Tien Chang-Lin, the first Chinese-American to be appointed Chancellor of Berkeley in 1990 and himself an admirer of Tan Kah Kee, Prof. Lee spearheaded the unenviable and daunting task to raise the targeted sum of US$ 8.5 million in order to secure the naming right in honour of the famous educationalist. He then travelled around the United States, China, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Singapore and other ASEAN countries at his own expense in order to seek support and donations for this worthy cause. Everywhere he went he received an enthusiastic response from many quarters, including Dr K K Phua of the Tan Kah Kee Foundation here, who immediately grasped the significance of his quest.

The aim was not to confine the fund-raising campaign to only the rich and powerful and those who knew Tan Kah Kee or were related to him. From the outset, the organisers felt that it would be more meaningful for those who simply admired his greatness but had nothing at all to do with him to also come forward spontaneously to support the project.

Through the untiring efforts of Prof. Lee and the numerous co-campaigners who shared his vision, widespread public donations from both continents poured in and the mission was thus successfully accomplished, several years after the idea was first mooted. The bulk of the donations came from Singapore, Taiwan, Indonesia, Thailand and the United States.

The seven-storey Tan Kah Kee Hall is primarily used for postgraduate teaching and research, and houses a number of laboratories, a large lecture hall, a state-of-the-art computer facility, conference rooms and administrative offices. It is part of the College of Chemistry and has enhanced the needs of its School of Chemical Engineering.

The Berkeley project led to the formation of the Tan Kah Kee International Society, with Prof. Lee as its first chairman and Singaporean Dr K K Phua as Secretary, to further Tan’s aims to propagate education and culture including the raising of funds to expand the Overseas Chinese Museum in Xiamen and the conversion of the Jimei colleges into a university.

What propelled Tan Kah Kee to persevere in his abiding labour of love with education? What makes his achievements so unique, in view that many prominent business tycoons everywhere also actively support education and charitable projects? With only eight years’ schooling, he emigrated to Singapore at the age of 17 to help his father run his sundry goods business. He quickly showed his mettle in business. By 1906, he had become a wealthy businessman, with interests which included rubber trading and manufacturing, rice mills and pineapple canning.

His businesses continued to expand and prosper by leaps and bounds, and he ventured into new fields such as shipping, sawmills, real estate and shoe manufacturing. By the time he was 45, he had become one of the richest men in Singapore and Malaya. Tan Kah Kee believed passionately that, for any nation to be strong and economically affluent, its people must first become literate and well-educated. He often lamented that, while China is a country with 5000 years of continuous civilisation, a vast number of Chinese were too poor to attend school, and that education was a luxury that only the well off could afford to indulge in.

His own native Fujian province was a case in point. It was then one of the poorer parts of China. With a population of more than 10 millions, there was a paucity of schools and no university to speak of. His simple philosophy was that, as one derives one’s wealth from the community in which one operates in, it is imperative that this should be extended to the advantage of the community and not for personal glorification. He began to practise what he firmly believed in by initiating and establishing a succession of schools in Jimei from 1913 onwards, and providing the funds needed to uplift the children of poor homes in Fujian. This was followed by the founding of a teachers’ training college and colleges for agriculture and forestry, fisheries and marine navigation, also in Jimei.

His generosity extended to schools elsewhere in the province, where such support was most acutely felt. Not content with merely endowing these infant institutions, he took a continuing interest in their management through regular correspondence and by making periodic prolonged visits there in order to keep abreast with their progress and development. Tan Kah Kee’s enterprises reached their zenith between 1919 and 1925. He was now one of the richest entrepreneurs in Southeast Asia, with a net worth of more than $12 millions, a colossal fortune in those distant days. His business empire became even more diversified and spread out in China and throughout the region, employing a combined workforce exceeding 10,000.

Tan Kah Kee was most fortunate to have had good people working for him. Two of his most able and trusted employees, Lee Kong Chian, the would be rubber magnate and founder of Lee Foundation and Oon Khye Hong, a chemical engineer from MIT, became his sons-in-law; while the third, the legendary and inimitable Tan Lark Sye, who also made his fortunes in rubber, co-founded the Nanyang University in 1955 and donated $5 millions to it.

In 1919, he launched his most ambitious project, the setting up of the Xiamen University. An initial funding of $1 million was needed, together with an operating budget of $3 millions for the next 12 years. With his characteristic decisiveness and resolve, he decided to shoulder the above financial burden himself, in order not to delay the launch of this momentous scheme.

He later described vividly his repeated futile attempts to raise the urgently needed endowment fund, from amongst the richest Chinese in the region for the long term viability of the fledgling University, as one of the most disappointing episodes of his life. Simultaneous with supporting education in China, Tan Kah Kee did not forget the needs of his adopted country. He led the establishment and funding of several Chinese language schools in Singapore from 1918 onwards, which were then grossly neglected by the colonial government.

Among the schools that owe their existence to his pioneering efforts are the Chinese High School and Nanyang Girls’ High School, both of which have become leading schools here. He also made substantial donations to the local English language institutions including the Anglo Chinese School and Raffles College, one of the predecessor institutions of the National University of Singapore. The dark clouds of the Great Depression of the late 1920s started to cast its sinister impact on his extensive business ventures, as the Malayan and Singapore economies took a precipitous plunge which resulted in drastic declines in rubber and tin prices, the two territories’ biggest revenue earners.

Even while Tan Kah Kee was trying desperately, to keep his businesses afloat and to cope with the mounting cash-flow problems, he continued to finance his educational projects in China, rather than let them flounder due to lack of funds. Even after the inevitable winding up of his business conglomerate in 1934, he still managed to remit monies to China, relying on his now greatly reduced personal resources and generous financial assistance of his loyal friends and relatives. It must have been a tremendous relief to him that the Chinese Government was finally prevailed upon to take over the financing and running of Xiamen University in 1940. He retired to Jimei in 1950, and devoted much of his time to overseeing the direction and development of the schools and colleges he founded there.

What makes Tan Kah Kee’s contributions to education so unique was his all-consuming belief in its importance and role in nation building, to the extent that, instead of giving only a portion of his wealth as other benefactors the world over would have done, he gave practically all he had for the advancement of education, leaving virtually nothing to his own large family. Moreover, it is a hallmark of his greatness that he eschewed personal publicity and recognition for what he had done and had consistently and tenaciously declined repeated attempts by his well-wishers to have some of the important edifices named after him.

He died in 1961 at the age of 87 and was buried in his beloved native Jimei. He left his entire fortune of more than ¥1 million RMB to the schools there, which he first founded almost 50 years earlier. Today, his birthplace has become one of the top attractions in Xiamen as visitors, both from China and overseas, flock there to pay fitting tributes to a visionary who was well ahead of his time.

Lam Pin Foo

In a recent speech delivered at the 21st Century Forum in Beijing, Singapore’s Senior Minister, Mr Lee Kuan Yew, spoke optimistically of the renaissance of East Asia which would re-invigorate the world. His optimism was buttressed by the progress made by East Asians in the last 30 years. He predicted that, barring major unforseen events, “… China will quicken the pace of its development by using inputs from the industrial and newly industrialising countries to catch up with and become first, a fully industrialised, and next, a high-tech society – if not in 50 years, then in 100 years”.

“If the present concentration of economic growth and cooperation prevails in East Asia for another 10 to 20 years, Asia will be transformed… By 2020, East Asia’s GDP (Gross Domestic Product), at present rates of growth, extrapolated for 25 years, will be 40 per cent of the world’s total GDP in PPP (Purchasing Power Parity) terms, as compared to North America’s 18 per cent and EU 15 countries’ 14 per cent …”, he added.

The Senior Minister said that, as Asia develops, its people would master the media. Asian documentaries would interpret world events to us from an Asian perspective. This would take several decades to achieve.

While China could acquire economic and military strength (hard power) in 30 years, he believed it would take it much longer time to attain cultural influence (soft power ). This would come about “… only when other nations admire and want to emulate aspects of that nation’s civilisation. Before others will want to do so, that civilisation must be seen to be superior and it has to be open, receptive and generous, allowing easy access to its knowledge and culture. American aid and investments helped many developing countries. This was the difference between the soft power of America and that of the former Soviet Union …”

The development of East Asia, he stressed, would lead to a re-affirmation of Asian culture, its traditions and values. To appraise China’s future prospects to become both a hard and soft power, it is instructive to comb through Chinese history, to ferret out the periods where Chinese influence was at its greatest. Was China ever an international soft power in the sense described by Senior Minister Lee?

The Dynastic Contenders

Throughout its 5000 years of history, four periods stand out for the purpose of our investigation. The first period when Chinese civilisation and military might reached a high point was the Han Dynasty (206 BC – AD 220). During this period, China established trade relations with countries in Asia, the Arab world, Iran, Turkey ,and through them, with the Roman Empire. Other nations were greatly attracted by Chinese silk and other luxury goods, which were symbols of an advanced and gracious society.

While China was undoubtedly rich and powerful, Han’s ascendance, 2000 years ago, came too early for its influence to be widely transmitted to other Eurasian civilisations. Transportation and communications technology of the period did not permit much cultural transmission, beyond the osmotic impact of mercantile trade. Also, while Han was rich and powerful, so was the contemporaneous Roman Empire. Proximity to the ancient centres of the Middle East ensured that the Romans were the dominant civilisation throughout much of antiquity.

Another period to consider was the Yuan Dynasty (1279-1368). Its Mongolian rulers created the most powerful empire in the 13th Century, with its territories spread over Asia and Europe. While this was one of the largest empires the world has ever seen, it was essentially a Mongolian rather than a Chinese empire. Also, while it was clearly a hard power given the Mongol’s military prowess, it was not a soft power in terms of cultural influence.

Indigenous Chinese prestige was briefly rekindled during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), when Admiral Zheng He’s fleets sailed through Southeast Asia, India to Arabia and East Africa. Many countries from all over Asia came to China to seek trade or protection against their stronger neighbours.

From the mid-15th century onwards, however, Ming China had lapsed into a self-imposed isolation from the outside world due to its Court intrigues. Its once powerful navy was drastically reduced in strength until it ceased to be a force to be reckoned with. A cocooned society, the late Ming Empire was a force primarily within its own boundaries.

The Splendours of Tang

Only the Tang Dynasty (618-906) came close to possessing soft power, in the sense defined by Senior Minister Lee. What then were this dynasty’s contributions to China’s internationalisation?

Historians generally agree that China was, in the 7th and 8th Centuries, the strongest, most advanced and the best governed country in the world. It possessed a then unprecedented population of over 50 million. Its capital Changan (now Xian), with an estimated population of one million, was the largest and most cosmopolitan city in the world. In both cultural and material terms, the country was better endowed than anywhere else.

The splendours of China were a magnet which drew a continuous stream of visitors to its capital. They came to China via the “Silk Road”, which was at its busiest. during Tang time. This began at Changan, on to the neighbouring states along its northwestern border and through to Central and South Asia, Middle East, Iran, Turkey and ended in Rome.Official foreign envoys came to pay tributes at the Chinese Court. Foreign traders brought their exotic merchandise to exchange for Chinese luxury items which could be sold for huge profits back home. Students and officials came to learn what made China tick. Monks,too, came and spread Chinese religious cults to their own people.

Tang China had official relations with some 70 countries and states, a feat unsurpassed by other countries. The foreign community, which numbered more than 10,000 in Changan alone, were generously treated and had special quarters set aside for them. Every assistance was extended to them in order to make their stay a successful and happy one. Many stayed for years, or even decades, while a few were appointed Court officials and took up Chinese nationality.

The Tang government was liberal and receptive to foreign ideas and culture. These enriched Chinese life and contributed to its intellectual development. Two-way trade was of mutual benefit. Most coveted among the Chinese quality goods were silk, textiles and porcelains. The Chinese, in turn, were fascinated by novel foreign products like grapes, cotton, precious stones, exotic arts and crafts and the famed sturdy stallions.

Culturally prodigious, Tang China’s painting, sculpture, calligraphy, poetry, literature, music and dance reached a new high. Important scientific innovations, such as woodblock printing on paper and silk, helped to speed up knowledge and literacy. With peace, prosperity and an efficient bureaucracy, life was orderly and pleasant. The Tang elite were refined and accomplished, their lifestyle cosmopolitan and elegant. The game of polo, introduced from Iran, became the favourite sport of the Emperor and his Court.

The glory of Tang has been so deeply implanted in the collective folk consciousness of the Chinese, especially those of the coastal South, that, even to-day, they still call themselves “ Men of Tang”. Chinese quarters in overseas countries, ungrammatically called “Chinatown” by Westerners, are habitually referred to by the Chinese themselves as “Tang Quarters”.

The Emergence of East Asian Civilisation

It was during this period that the Chinese language, culture, and the distinctively Chinese creed of Confucianism were firmly transplanted in Korea, Japan and Vietnam, providing East Asia with a common cultural heritage.

The Japanese, whose first contacts with China date back to Han times, were the greatest admirers of Tang culture and society. Their scholars and Buddhist monks who came to Changan were awed by the powers and magnificence of the Tang Court and the efficient way the country was governed. They perceived Chinese civilisation to be superior to Japan’s. On their return, they spoke glowingly of what they saw and this created excitement about China.

The Japanese government decided to send official missions to China by arduous sea journeys, with the prime objective of observing and studying exhaustively all aspects of its system of government and society that Japan could draw upon for its own development. The envoys and their subordinates were the creme de la creme of the Japanese elite who were carefully handpicked in accordance with their rank, learning, technical or vocational skills. The size of each mission varied between 100 and 500. Many remained in China for years or even decades in order to accomplish their assigned tasks.

The Tang government was favourably impressed by the sincerity and humility of the Japanese in their desire to learn from China and gave them unstinting help and guidance to make their quest a fruitful one.

Between the years 618 and 894, numerous such study missions came to China. As a result of their strong recommendations, the Japanese government finally decided to overhaul its society by adopting the Chinese language, its government structure, the tenets of Confucianism, its cultural and religious practices, in order to propel the Japanese nation forward.

Through the above process, coupled with the Japanese genius for imitating and improving on their imported models to suit their own needs, the country was irreversibly transformed into a sinicised culture underpinned by Confucianism. After the collapse of the Tang Dynasty in 906, the Japanese stopped sending official missions to China as they started to build up their own public institutions and culture more independently, with new found national confidence.

Soft Power After Tang: Confucianism and Art

The dynasties after Tang – Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing, had their high points, but none could match Tang in terms of its international prestige and influence. Nevertheless, two aspects of Chinese soft power have achieved widespread interest and admiration down to modern times: Confucianism and art.

In traditional China, the Confucian precepts were the bedrock upon which government and the social structure were built upon. Among its admirers were European rulers and philosophers such as King Louis XIV of France and the philosopher Voltaire. The latter regarded the sage as a “precursor of Eighteenth Century rationalism” and the Chinese government as an “Utopian” role model worthy of emulation.

As for Chinese art, its products rapidly became the prized possessions. First introduced into Europe during the Middle Ages, perhaps after the publication of Marco Polo’s travels in China in the early 14th Century, Chinese porcelains were in great demand from kings and nobles, and were often depicted in Renaissance paintings.

The West’s love affair with Chinese porcelains and other works of art such as carved jades, lacquers, furniture and paintings continued unabated during the Renaissance, and into modern times. Large quantities were imported and sold in Europe at highly inflated prices, especially between the 16th and 18th Centuries. These gave Europeans a glimpse of the unsurpassed Chinese standards of elegance and delicacy, and greatly enriched their life.

So highly esteemed had Chinese porcelains become that the German Elector of Saxony was reputed to have bartered a regiment of his grenadier guards in exchange for a set of Famille Verte vases of the Kangxi reign (1662-1722 )!

Europe’s insatiable appetite for Chinese art ushered in an era of “ Chinoiserie” during the 18th Century. Fanciful European notions of China were reflected in its arts and crafts. “Chinese taste” was also reflected in European gardens and architecture. Pagodas and palaces were erected all over Europe and embellished with dragons, mandarin figures and Chinese genres. Prominent examples of these can be seen in London’s Kew Garden and the Chinese Pavilion in Brighton.

Today, Chinese art continues to fascinate foreigners. The country’s objects d’art are among the most keenly collected in the world. Ms. Jessica Rawson, Editor of “Chinese Art” and Keeper of Oriental Antiquities at the British Museum, said, “…Day to day life in the West was transformed by the introduction of Chinese silks, teas, spices and porcelains…In addition, Chinese technology – printing, the making of gunpowder, iron casting and methods of mass-production – altered the West beyond recognition. By contrast, Western products, technologies and ideas had very little impact on China before the twentieth century.”

Soft Power in Today’s World

There is a direct correlation between a nation’s cultural influence and the state of its political and economic fortunes. Great Britain provides a classic example. At its peak, the proud boast was that “the sun never set” on the British Empire. However, by the end of 1960s, the British colonies had virtually disappeared as that country became weaker and nationalism re-emerged everywhere.

With the British decline, world leadership passed to the Americans. It inherited from the British, and built upon, the all-pervasive soft power of the English language. Even one of the most august and admired of British institutions, Oxford and Cambridge, have lost some of its gloss over the years. By contrast, the image and prestige of the better endowed and equipped American universities, such as Harvard, Yale, MIT and Stanford, have risen. They are increasingly attracting many of the world’s best talents into their folds. In my native Singapore, both the National University of Singapore and the National Technological University now look to Harvard and MIT for inspiration in their quest for world status.

It is a truism that one can best imbibe and appreciate a country’s culture and civilisation if one is familiar with its language. In this respect, both Britain and United States have a tremendous advantage over China in that English is an international medium of communication. Also, unlike China, both these countries have efficacious adjuncts, such as the Voice of America, United States Information Service, British Broadcasting Corporation and British Council, and a powerful print media, which are well placed to spread their respective cultures and to influence the world opinion accordingly.

I agree with Senior Minister Lee that for China to acquire soft power, the road ahead will be a long and difficult one. Much needs to be done before it can again achieve the well-deserved fame of the Tang era. Nevertheless, as China’s economy expands further, more foreigners will see the palpable benefits of being familiar with its language and culture, if not for its intrinsic value, at least for economic advantage. In this regards, more and more foreigners are now learning Chinese in their own countries or in China itself.

Whether or not China will ever acquire the soft power which the United States now has over other countries, only time will tell.

Lam Pin Foo

The institution of names gradually evolved when society became more developed and civilised. It was then necessary to devise a more practical and permanent method of identifying and differentiating one’s kith and kin and others. The general scholarly consensus is that personal names came into use at a very early period of human history. According to historians and anthropologists, all people of the world now have names, including the most primitive tribes, and that no contrary evidence has so far been found.

In the case of the Chinese, they are said to have had given names as well as surnames (family names) dating back to almost 5000 years. The use of hereditary surnames was at first the prerogative of the nobility, but from the Han dynasty (206 BC – 220 AD) onwards all Chinese, rich and poor, came to possess it.

By contrast, the use of surnames by most of the other countries is of later origin. In England, William the Conqueror is credited to have introduced it after 1066. Soon, surnames were adopted by aristocratic families and the land-owning upper classes. It was only from the 16th Century that most English people began to have surnames. This practice was spread to Scotland, Ireland and Wales during the 18th Century.

In ancient times, the Japanese also had no surnames, only personal names. However, after the Meiji Restoration in 1868, the government promulgated a decree in 1875 making it compulsory for all Japanese to have a surname.

Like the Japanese, Turkey did not adopt a surname system until after it became a republic in 1923.

To the Chinese, people with the same surname are regarded as clansmen and descended from the common founding ancestor. The tie of kinship is a hallmark of Chinese social structure and binds its members wherever in the world they might be. They network with each other through regular global gatherings to renew ties and to promote matters of common interest. This is a good example of the Chinese concept of “guanxi”, which includes an element of the “old school tie” in Britain.

In old China, marriage between those within the clan was taboo, mainly due to the belief, not always genealogically correct, that they would be related by blood. The force of tradition is such that, even today, such a union is not common in the Chinese world and still frowned upon.

For a country with 1.3 billion people, China is estimated to have a relatively small pool of approximately 10,000 surnames, of which some 500 are said to be in common usage. In contrast, Japan with a far smaller population of about 130 million, has at least 100,000 surnames. According to a Chinese survey of 1980s, the most common surnames were , Li, Zhang, Wang, Liu and Chen. Together they constituted more than a third of the country’s population. The majority of Chinese surnames have one character, but those with double-character are not uncommon. More rare are those with three or even four characters.

While most cultures attach importance to the selection of personal names, the Chinese are among the most fastidious in making sure that the chosen names are right for their offsprings. They have, over the centuries, developed this into an art, with characteristics and flavours all its own.There is a time-honoured Chinese adage that says: “It is far better to have an ugly face than to be given a wrong name”. This is because the name confers a permanent identity and can either uplift or reduce one’s self-esteem. If it is aptly chosen, one would be immensely proud of it; conversely, if it is childish or crude, one will, perforce, have to bear it as a life-long liability or change it by legal means.

In old China, when a child was born, the head of family would usually consult an astrologer before naming it. If the latter advises that the child is lacking in any of the five elements of life (metal, wood, water, fire and earth), he would then suggest that the name should include the needed element so as to “overcome” such deficiency in order that the child would have a successful life. In my own case, as I was believed to be lacking in water element, my given name should make up this deficiency.

The children of some illiterate and poor families were not so well catered for by their parents. They would sometimes take the more down to earth approach of naming the boy child after the domestic animals, which were probably their most valuable earthly possessions, in the hope that he would grow up sturdily like them.

In antiquity, a high-born Chinese boy child would only be named three months after birth. In the meantime he would have a “milk name”, which would remain with him for life and be affectionately used by his family members. This would enable the patriarch to carefully observe his temperament so that he would be appropriately named.

Unlike Westerners, Chinese parents do not name their offsprings after saints or royal personages. Instead, they would favour names with profound meaning, are creative or poetical or those that reflect elements of nature.

What’s in a name? There is perhaps more to it with the Chinese than other cultures. By the given name, the Chinese parents hope that the recipient will live up to it and achieve great things or lead a virtuous life. With these aims in mind, popular names for boys often encompass hopes of glory to the family, bravery or heroism, patriotism, loyalty, filial piety, uprightness, wealth, happiness and others with auspicious meanings. Traditional names for girls would invariably embrace unique feminine qualities like virtues, gentleness, beauty, seasons, flowers and birds and those that mirror the more compassionate side of the female nature.

Since the founding of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, choices of names, for both sexes, have tended to be more influenced by socialist ideology or those that symbolise its developments or significant national or world events. Names that smack of feudalism or superstition, or are reflective of the decadent old value systems, have largely gone out of fashion. Under the Chinese law, a citizen has the ultimate option to choose which parent’s surname he or she would rather have. As in other countries, most would prefer the father’s surname in keeping with custom. However, unlike in the West, a Chinese woman retains her own surname upon marriage.

Foreigners living in a Chinese community, be it China, Taiwan or Hong Kong, often assume a Chinese name in order to facilitate communication and dealing with the local residents. Likewise, many Chinese living in Western countries find it more convenient to adopt a Western name as a sign of assimilation into their society. In Hong Kong, Malaysia, Singapore, Taiwan, and increasingly, also in China itself, it is seen as glamorous, especially among young people, to have a Christian name even though they are not Christians, in addition to their Chinese name.

Certain Chinese names are anathema and will be shunned and avoided at all cost due to historical reasons. Apparently no Chinese has been named Kui for the past 800 years, all because of the treachery of Qin Kui, the arch-villain of China. A Prime Minister during the Southern Song dynasty (1127-1279), he was responsible for the execution of the much venerated and patriotic general Yue Fei in 1142 on a trumped-up charge in order to strengthen his own power at Court.

Over the centuries, Qin’s name has lived in infamy, while that of Yue has come to epitomise valour and loyalty. The latter was deified by a posthumous royal decree, and his tomb in Hangzhou is a must-see tourist attraction.

Such was Qin’s notoriety that one of his kinsmen Qin Dashi, who was placed first at the Imperial Examination in 1752 and was appointed a high official during the Qing dynasty (1644-1911), felt obliged to kneel before the general’s grave in order to atone for the dastardly act of his disgraced and hated kinsman.

One of life’s ironies was that, in Imperial China, one’s name could either bring about an unexpected good fortune or be the unwitting cause of one’s downfall. Under the Imperial Examination system, the Emperor was the final arbiter of the rankings of the top three candidates who were earmarked for top appointments. There were isolated instances where he did alter the examiners’ recommendations, sometimes for whimsical reasons.In one case, the top candidate was relegated to the second position because his name offended the susceptibilities of the Son of Heaven. By contrast, the name of the second-placed candidate was so pleasing that the Emperor felt justified to reverse the ranking in his favour.

One of the main causes contributing to the growth or decline of some Chinese surnames was the changes made to them for various reasons. For instance, following the collapse of the Taiping Rebellion in 1864, which almost overthrew the Qing regime, those connected with the movement had to flee their homes by changing their names in order to escape retributions.

In the West, one of the best known cases of name changes involved the British Royal Family. King George V changed his Germanic family name of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha to the English name of Windsor in order to pacify the British public due to the aftermath of World War I.

Traditionally, it was common for many Chinese to have an alias in addition to their own name. Furthermore, the educated people would also have a “scholar name” or “pen name” which would reflect their interest or ambition in life. For example, Lu Xun is the pen name of one of China’s best-known authors and whose real name is often forgotten.

This is not peculiar to China as some Western writers and show business personalities also use assumed names, for which they will be remembered by posterity.

A person’s name is one of his most precious possessions and should be jealously guarded against any possible infringement. Not infrequently, names of famous people are being made use of by unscrupulous people for their own ends without their knowledge. Less pernicious, but morally reprehensible nevertheless, is the common practice of “name dropping” in order to satisfy one’s ego or to improve one’s social standing. It transcends national boundaries and linguistic lines.

It is of vital importance that we should always address someone correctly as a common courtesy and mark of respect. Failure to do so can cause resentment or embarrassment to the aggrieved party. For example, the Malaysian Foreign Minister, Datuk Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, once chided the Malaysian Chinese media for having repeatedly mixed up his name with his father’s through ignorance of the Malay custom. The minister said he had to put this right before any confusion arose. He became his country’s prime minister later on.

As many countries have popular names and surnames that are shared by a large number of people, what steps did they take to minimise confusion and cases of mistaken identity that might arise in such a situation? In China, people were encouraged to avoid using over-burdened names and to resort to names less likely to be thought of by others. Another way was to increase the usage of double-character names in place of single-character ones.

This problem also plagued Sweden some years ago. As a high percentage of Swedes preferred surnames like Andersson, Johansson, Svensson and Karlsson, the Government had, perforce, to pass a law aimed at persuading those with common surnames to switch to the less used ones for reasons of good public administration. It even provided a long list of other alternative choices to help them make up their minds.

As names play such a vital role in our life, language experts and scholars have offered useful advice on how to get them right for your children, and to avoid the pitfalls which could be a life long regret for their bearers. Here are some of the tips:

• A name confers an indelible identity, and everyone needs one that will harmonise with the owner’s personality.
• You must be wary of names that already have inherent problems built into them.
• Adopting names of celebrities may not turn out to be a cause for celebration. It can often be a life long misery if one fails to live up to it or, worse still, might make one a butt of jokes especially if the namesake becomes notorious.
• You should refrain from sexually ambiguous names.
• Be aware of the practical problems of hard to pronounce or write names.
• Avoid choosing both the stale (overused) or those that will startle others.
• Do not opt for too trendy a name; it would become dated and sound ludicrous in time to come.
• It pays to aim for meaningful, creative or poetical names, less likely to be duplicated.
• Traditional Chinese names that sound childish, are related to domestic animals or one’s prominent physical feature are perfectly in order as family nicknames, but are no longer suitable as proper names.

Happy name hunting!

Lam Pin Foo