In his work, ‘The Bund: Littoral Space of Empire in the Treaty Ports of Asia’,  Jeremy Taylor attempts to examine the bund as a generic spatial form; analysing its importance in both sustaining the lifestyle of European residents and its significance to the Western residents of the treaty ports as space with military, commercial and lastly recreational functions[1]. He concludes by hoping that his work will stimulate further debate surrounding the questions of space and power within the treaty ports. Outside of treaty ports, Taylor’s work is part of a burgeoning field of historical discourse examining the importance of European urban expansion on cityscapes across the world. This can be seen in works such as Antony King’s Urbanism, Colonialism and the World-Economy: Cultural and Spatial Foundations of the World Urban System. Interestingly the Shanghai Bund arguably demonstrates King’s thesis that these colonial spaces are eventually integrated into what he calls the single world economy, transitioning from a colonial space with primarily military and economic functions to one that is largely recreational in its nature and ultimately part of the broader world economy[2]. Although Taylor demonstrates its importance to Westerners, he does not explore Chinese understandings or conceptualisations of the Shanghai Bund as a space[3]. However, a comparison of the Shanghai Bund with colonial buildings and Korea and Taiwan demonstrate that, despite fulfilling similar functions, most colonial spaces found in treaty ports and colonial cities have in fact been treated differently to the bund, which has arguably endured as an important space after the colonial period.

In Korea, the construction of the Japanese Western style colonial building in front of the Kwanghwa palace disrupted and challenged the ancient geomancy calculation known as Pungsu, which sought to enhance the vital energies of the ruler[4]. The intentions of the Japanese in overturning the cognitive map of the Koreans by constructing a modern western-style government building on this site is clear. In Taiwan, the central government building and redevelopment of downtown Taipei was finalised by the completion of the Sōtokufu in 1919. Although nothing was demolished to construct this building, the Japanese did raise the Yamen in 1931 to build the Old City Hall[5]. As with the bund, the construction of these sites was both conscious and deliberate. They were centrally located, western style buildings designed to convey both the modern and civilising intentions of the colonists as well as establish their dominance in the spaces in which they were created. Parallels with this can arguably be seen with the bund which remained a space of power through its use as an economic center and space which military might could be demonstrated. As these building were ultimately used as spaces that convey power, it is unsurprising that in many cases these buildings continued to be used until the end of the 20^th century. In Taipei, the Chinese were quick to occupy many of the buildings that were part of the Japanese colonial occupation, occupying the central colonial buildings and only bothering to switch on Chinese character in the name[6]. However, although they remained politically significant in both Korea and Taiwan these spaces continue to be contentious. In Taiwan the city government challenged the nationalist government’s building by moving ‘away from the downtown and into a new spatiality’[7]. Even with the demolition of the government building, restoration of the Kwanghwa gate and creation of the Kwanghwa square in 2009, the spatial configuration of  downtown Seoul remains intrinsically linked to their identity and history[8]. Ultimately the importance of these buildings as spaces of empire is now lost and unlike the Shanghai Bund, many are beginning to lose their significance as nations begin to recognise the colonial origins of these space’s associations with power.

Returning to an examination of the Bund, it is clear that perhaps the Shanghai Bund’s association with finance and business within the Chinese identity that has perhaps ensured its continued importance as a centre in Shanghai. In order to fully understand the typology of the Shanghai Bund as a space of empire, it is perhaps important to consider its perception amongst the Chinese in Shanghai, who have arguably enabled its transition from a space of empire to a space of economic entrepreneurialism.

[1] Jeremy E. Taylor, ‘The Bund: Littoral Space of Empire in the Treaty Ports of East Asia’, Social History, Vol. 27, No. 2 (May, 2002), pp. 125-142

[2] Antony D. King, Urbanism, Colonialism, and The World Economy: Cultural and Spatial Foundations of the World Urban System, (London, 1990), pp1-12.

[3] Talyor, ‘The Bund’, p128.

[4] Hong Kal, Aesthetic Construction of Korean nationalism: Spectacle, Politics and History, (Oxford, 2000), p45.

[5] Joseph R Allen, Taipei: City of Displacements, (Washington, 2012), p43.

[6] Allen, Taipei, p35.

[7] Ibid, p65.

[8] Kal, Aesthetic Construction of Korean nationalism, p1.

When I close my eyes and think of the most common images of Beijing, the first ones that come to mind are Mao’s portrait at the gate of the Forbidden City and a rickshaw leaning against a grey wall outside of a Hutong. The history behind this second mental image is described in the second chapter of David Strand’s “Rickshaw Beijing: City People and Politics in the 1920s.” The chapter, titled “The Rickshaw: machine for a mixed-up age” illustrates the social dynamics of rickshaw pullers in 1920s Beijing. The early 20^th century was an extremely turbulent time in Beijing. In 1900, Boxer rebels besieged the city. Eleven years later, the Qing dynasty fell and a republican government came to power under Yuan Shikai. The republican government was not able to consolidate control over the country and many smaller cities and rural areas were plagued by varying degrees of lawlessness and the corrupt rule of warlords.  Over this chaotic period, rickshaws became a tool of survival for those whose lives were upended. The famous author Lao She noted that the population of rickshaw pullers in Beijing was largely made up of those who had been laid off as a result of the end of the Qing dynasty and the subsequent breakdown of the bureaucracies and institutions that had brought stability to the city.[1]

Strand’s remarkably readable and detailed history of Beijing’s rickshaw pullers strikes me as significant because of the way it transcends its micro-historical scope to comment on broader class relations. Rickshaw pullers embodied the collapse of Qing-era social relations and Beijing’s transition into the contemporary world. Strand remarks that if “rickshaw pulling provided a channel for upward and lateral mobility among immigrants and the urban poor the job also functioned as an occupational life raft for downwardly mobile urban residents.”[2]  The rickshaw itself, despite ostensibly being a simple piece of technology, was a very modern form of transport at the time. It could be taken on both paved major roads as well as mud and dirt side streets. Between 1910 and 1920, rickshaws overtook mule-carts as the main mode of transport and tripled in number.[3] The more they proliferated, the more convenient they became for people who could afford it. Rickshaw pulling became an accessible and stable form of labour for those who had no alternative occupation. Strand alludes to the notion that the rickshaw pulling business stimulated a form of urban class consciousness. For the “downwardly mobile” like former Qing bannermen or officials, pulling a rickshaw was degrading, almost inhumane labour. The end of the dynasty and the advent of republican rule had caused their downfall and perhaps they sought an alternative that would promise them dignity if not prosperity. For the upwardly mobile, pulling granted them relative comfort. While they made a meagre wage, they could afford to feed themselves and live humbly provided they didn’t have many dependents. By being a part of an urban poor that were struggling but not totally deprived, they became a part of the largest social class in the city. They were also making daily contact with those of higher social status – making them reliant on the good-will of their passengers but also degraded by their physical juxtaposition. For both upward and downwardly mobile rickshaw pullers, one can speculate that the social dynamics of their occupation contributed to an elevated awareness of their social status and – subject to more research – more inclined to support the communitarian ideals that would soon sweep across China.

 

Bibliography:

 

David Strand, “The Rickshaw: Machine for a Mixed-up Age” in Rickshaw Beijing: City People and Politics in the 1920s (Berkeley; London: University of California Press, 1993).

[1] Page 31

[2] Page 32

[3] Page 27