1.
I Love America. That’s Why I Have to Tell the
Truth About It
Time Nov. 15, 2018
What it means to love my country, no matter how it feels about
me
Love it or leave it. Have you heard
someone say this? Or have you said it? Anyone who has heard these five words
knows what it means, because it almost always refers to America. Anyone who has
heard this sentence knows it is a loaded gun, pointed at them.
As
for those who say this sentence, do you mean it with gentleness, with empathy,
with sarcasm, with satire, with any kind of humor that is not ill humored? Or
is the sentence always said with very clear menace?
I
ask out of genuine curiosity, because I have never said this sentence myself,
in reference to any country or place. I have never said “love it or leave it”
to my son, and I hope I never will, because that is not the kind of love I want
to feel, for him or for my country, whichever country that might be.
The
country in which I am writing these words is France, which is not my country
but which colonized Vietnam, where I was born, for two-thirds of a century.
French rule ended only 17 years before my birth. My parents and their parents
never knew anything but French colonialism. Perhaps because of this history,
part of me loves France, a love that is due, in some measure, to having been
mentally colonized by France.
Aware
of my colonization, I do not love France the way many Americans love France,
the ones who dream of the Eiffel Tower, of sipping coffee at Les Deux Magots,
of eating a fine meal in Provence. This is a romantic love, set to accordion
music or Édith Piaf, which I feel only fleetingly. I cannot help but see
colonialism’s legacies, visible throughout Paris if one wishes to see them: the
people of African and Arab origins who are here because France was there in
their countries of birth. Romanticizing their existence, oftentimes at the
margins of French society, would be difficult, which is why Americans rarely
talk about them as part of the fantasy of Paris.
The
fantasy is tempting, especially because of my Vietnamese history. Most of the
French of Vietnamese origins I know are content, even if they are aware of
their colonized history. Why wouldn’t they be? A Moroccan friend in Paris
points to the skin I share with these French of Vietnamese ancestry and says,
“You are white here.” But I am not white in America, or not yet. I was made in
America but born in Vietnam, and my origins are inseparable from three wars: the
one the Vietnamese fought against the French; the one the Vietnamese fought
against each other; and the one the U.S. fought in Vietnam.
Many
Americans consider the war to be a noble, if possibly flawed, example of
American good intentions. And while there is some truth to that, it was also
simply a continuation of French colonization, a war that was racist and
imperialist at its roots and in its practices. As such, this war was just one
manifestation of a centuries-long expansion of the American empire that began
from its own colonial birth and ran through the frontier, the American West,
Mexico, Hawaii, Guam, Puerto Rico, the Philippines, Japan, Korea, Vietnam and
now the Middle East.
One
war might be a mistake. A long series of wars is a pattern. Indians were the
original terrorists in the American imagination. The genocide committed against
them by white settlers is Thanksgiving’s ugly side, not quite remembered but
not really forgotten, even in France, where images of a half-naked Native
American in a feathered headdress can also be found. Centuries later, the
latent memory of genocide — or the celebration of conquest — would surface when
American GIs called hostile Vietnamese territory “Indian country.” Now Muslims
are the new gooks while terrorists are the new communists, since communists are
no longer very threatening and every society needs an Other to define its
boundaries and funnel its fears.
Many Americans do not like to hear these things. An
American veteran of the war, an enlisted man, wrote me in rage after reading an
essay of mine on the scars that Vietnamese refugees carried. Americans had
sacrificed themselves for my country, my family, me, he said. I should be
grateful. When I wrote him back and said he was the only one hurt by his rage,
he wrote back with an even angrier letter. Another American veteran, a former
officer, now a dentist and doctor, read my novel The Sympathizer and
sent me a letter more measured in tone but with a message just as blunt. You
seem to love the communists so much, he said. Why don’t you go back to Vietnam?
And take your son with you.
I
was weary and did not write back to him. I should have. I would have pointed
out that he must not have finished my novel, since the last quarter indicts
communism’s failures in Vietnam. Perhaps he never made it past being offended
by the first quarter of the novel, which condemns America’s war in Vietnam.
Perhaps he never made it to the middle of the novel, by which point I was also
satirizing the failures of the government under which I was born, the Republic
of Vietnam, the south.
I
made such criticisms not because I hated all the countries that I have known
but because I love them. My love for my countries is difficult because their
histories, like those of all countries, are complicated. Every country believes
in its own best self and from these visions has built beautiful cultures,
France included. And yet every country is also soiled in the blood of conquest
and violence, Vietnam included. If we love our countries, we owe it to them not
just to flatter them but to tell the truth about them in all their beauty and
their brutality, America included.
If
I had written that letter, I would have asked this dentist and doctor why he
had to threaten my son, who was born in America. His citizenship is natural,
which is as good as the citizenship of the dentist, the doctor and the veteran.
And yet even my son is told to love it or leave it. Is such a telling American?
Yes. And no. “Love it or leave it” is completely American and yet un-American
at the same time, just like me.
Unlike
my son, I had to become naturalized. Did I love America at the time of my
naturalization? It is hard to say, because I had never said “I love you” to
anyone, my parents included, much less a country. But I still wanted to swear
my oath of citizenship to America as an adolescent. At the same time, I wanted
to keep my Vietnamese name. I had tried various American names on for size. All
felt unnatural. Only the name my parents gave me felt natural, possibly because
my father never ceased telling me, “You are 100% Vietnamese.”
By
keeping my name, I could be made into an American but not forget that I was
born in Vietnam. Paradoxically, I also believed that by keeping my name, I was
making a commitment to America. Not the America of those who say “love it or
leave it,” but to my America, to an America that I would force to say my name,
rather than to an America that would force a name on me.
2.
Taiwan’s midterm elections, biggest ever, key
test for ruling, opposition parties
Japan Times SEP 14, 2018
TAIPEI
– In November, Taiwan will hold its largest election ever, with about 19
million voters, or 83 percent of the population, casting ballots for more than
11,000 officials, including the mayors of Taipei and five other special
municipal districts.
In
addition to mayors of the six special municipalities, three mayors of smaller
cities will be elected, along with 13 county commissioners, about 900
councilors, 56 indigenous district representatives, nearly 2,300 local representatives
and more than 7,700 borough wardens.
While
filling so many positions is unlikely to change Taiwan’s political scene
overnight, the results of this year’s elections will be carefully scrutinized
at home and abroad.
For
one thing, like the U.S. midterm elections, which will also be held in
November, Taiwan’s “nine-in-one” elections will be seen as a prelude to the
2020 presidential and legislative elections.
Observers
will be watching for signs of weakness in President Tsai Ing-wen’s Democratic
Progressive Party, which has ruled the island’s politics since its blow-out
wins in 2014 and 2016. They will also be looking for evidence of strength in
the Kuomintang (KMT), which has sought to capitalize on areas of popular
frustration with the government over the past two years.
These
frustrations stem largely from a DPP decision to utilize its legislative
majority after 2016 to address the hot-button issues of labor and pension
reform, while committing to a controversial shift away from nuclear and fossil fuels
toward green energy.
According
to an independent poll released in August, the KMT’s strategy has shown some
success, with the DPP’s approval ratings slipping and the KMT gaining ground.
KMT
Chairman Wu Den-yih has set a target for the party to win half of the 22
counties, cities and special municipality districts in the upcoming elections.
Some
see this as overly optimistic, but others point out that while many people are
fed up with the DPP, they will not necessarily switch their support to the KMT,
and therefore the party should expect to pick up only one or two seats lost in
2014.
The
DPP is faced with the opposite problem. Having already acquired most of the
island’s political real estate, the ruling party’s wish list is limited to
winning New Taipei City, the only special municipal district it does not
control. Analysts say that the DPP will be lucky to keep the 13 seats it has.
Also
watching the November polls will be China, which has not regarded the DPP’s
rise favorably and has enacted a wide range of policies designed to make things
difficult for the party long identified with Taiwan independence.
So
even modest gains by the pro-unification KMT are likely to please Beijing,
perhaps enough to ease cross-strait pressure in hopes of building momentum for
2020.
By
contrast, a DPP victory could lead China to double down on tactics such as
stealing Taiwan’s diplomatic allies and conducting military drills around the
island.
However,
regardless of who is in power, China sees the DPP as a party that advocates
independence, said Tai Li-an, a prominent Taiwan pollster.
“Unification
is clearly Beijing’s ultimate goal,” Tai said, meaning that it will continue to
support the KMT as the party most likely to advance that goal.
Also
of interest to the Chinese leadership will be the fate of incumbent Taipei
Mayor Ko Wen-je, whose China-friendly remarks earlier this year infuriated many
in the DPP, which supported his successful candidacy in 2014.
A
political independent, Ko is currently leading in the polls as many voters turn
away from traditional parties.
A
Ko win this time around without the backing of the DPP would suggest that
voters identify with Ko’s views on China, which hold that the people on both
sides of the Taiwan Strait are “one close family” and “a shared community of
destiny.”
In
addition to Ko, the mayor of Taoyuan and the former Kaohsiung mayor, both
members of the DPP, have expressed similar conciliatory views of the mainland,
and the continued electoral success in those two areas would send a positive
message to Beijing.
One
thing new in November will be a large number of referendums, which will be the
first since the voting age on such initiatives was lowered from 20 to 18.
While
some, like You Ying-lung, chairman of the Taiwanese Public Opinion Foundation,
celebrate what they see as the “deepening of Taiwan’s democracy,” others worry
that an increase in direct polls that are legally binding will put governments
in a bad spot with respect to complicated, often highly charged issues that are
not adequately understood by the public being asked to vote on them.
“The
large number of referendums has a lot to do with the lack of leadership from
the government itself,” said Wang Yeh-li, a political science professor at
National Taiwan University.
Ten
referendum proposals are likely to be voted on, most of which concern domestic
issues involving same-sex marriage and energy policy.
Two
could have wider repercussions, however.
One
is a proposal by an alliance of civic groups that Taiwan’s sports teams participate
in future international events under the name “Taiwan” rather than “Chinese
Taipei” as is currently done.
According
to polls, a large majority of Taiwanese favor the proposal, which would include
participation in the 2020 Tokyo Olympics under the preferred name.
Successful
or not, the referendum is unlikely to change the policies of those who organize
such events. In May, the International Olympic Committee stated it would stand
by a 1981 agreement that Taiwanese athletes must compete as Chinese Taipei.
China
has been annoyed by the proposal, not surprisingly, and recently pressured the
East Asian Olympic Committee to revoke Taichung’s plan to host the 2019 East
Asian Youth Games.
Another
referendum initiated by the KMT seeks to maintain the ban on food products from
five Japanese prefectures imposed because of the Fukushima nuclear disaster.
Taiwan’s
representative to Japan, Frank Hsieh, has criticized the initiative for
undermining Taiwan-Japan relations. He has also said that if China eases its
restrictions before Taiwan, Taiwan will be “embarrassed” because it will be the
only place to retain such a comprehensive ban on Japanese food products from
regions affected by the triple core meltdown in 2011.
3.
Why there’s no such thing as a perfect vegan
Almost
everything we eat involves some kind of animal suffering – but we can do our
best to minimise it
Vegan
chatrooms sometimes host intense discussions over who is living the best vegan
life. Illustration: Guardian design team
Eight
years on, veganism still has me scratching my head. My commitment hasn’t
wavered, but the questions surrounding what is and isn’t vegan continue to
plague me on a weekly (and sometimes daily) basis. While many assume veganism
is strictly about refusing to use animal products, for most vegans it is also
about living a life that excludes all forms of animal exploitation. And with
mainstream veganism firmly on the rise, the questions keep coming as we learn
more about the agricultural price-tags of our choices. Of course, each new
discovery is greeted with delight by many non-vegans, who revel in the notion
that we’ve been caught out. There is now even a website dedicated to almonds not being vegan (more on this
later).
As
recently as last week, my “nearly vegan” mother passed on a concerned message
from a close friend who felt it imperative that I know almonds (yep, them
again) are emphatically not vegan. Cease the almond consumption immediately
(that is, if they come from California). Oh, and don’t forget avocados too –
particularly if they’re of the Mexican variety. Add dates to the list while
you’re at it … and what’s the deal with figs again?
It’s
not just non-vegans who want to catch us out. My brief foray into vegan
chatrooms quickly made it clear that there was a competitive side to the vegan
community. The dos and don’ts quickly morphed into intense question marks over
who was living their best vegan life.
