The Japanese had extensive control of political and business interests in Manchuria following the First Sino-Japanese War (1894-1895) and the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905). The railways in South Manchuria fell into Japanese hands.
Ai Yamaguchi got a job in the South Manchuria Railway, and together with his wife, Fumio Yamaguchi settled in Fushun (抚顺), 45 km east of Shenyang. Their daughter, Yoshiko Yamaguchi, was born on the 12th of February 1920.
Yoshiko Yamaguchi (Li Xianglan, 李香兰) was, technically speaking, a Chinese of Japanese descent. If her parents worked for Amtrak and she was born in Los Angeles, she would be an American citizen of Japanese origin. Her life would unfold as dramatically, perhaps even more so, than the stories she acted during the turbulent years of the Japanese occupation in China.
Li Xianglan’s voice resonates deeply in my mind. Whenever I hear her song Evening Primrose (夜来香), Three Years (三年) or Suzhou Serenade (苏州夜曲), they would take me back to my childhood Rediffusion days. In the 1950s and 60s, Rediffusion broadcasts were widely followed, for there were very few entertainment options. She was one of my mother’s favourite singers. I got to know her much better many years later – during my Chinese Jazz days.
Li Xianglan moved to Shanghai and became a star and a successful runaway singer. However, much controversy surrounding her Japanese origin, which she concealed. Many of her movies were perceived to be sympathetic to the Japanese. When the Japanese surrendered in China, she was arrested and treated as a traitor. She saved herself from the gallows by revealing her Japanese identity.
Li Xianglan left China after the war (1946) and continued as an actress and singer. She eventually became a politician and served as an elected Member of the House of Councillors of Japan. In her mind, the Chinese never forgave her for her movie roles that were deemed pro-Japanese. Although she publicly expressed regret and remorse playing those roles (as she was young and naïve then), she never felt comfortable enough to return to the country of her birth. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) banned her song Suzhou Serenade.
With this, I conclude an eight-part series on my thoughts and travelling in China and declare CCP members who were academics arranged sponsorships for my trips. They were no different from academics or professionals from the West. The differences come, I believe, not from us “commoners” but from the politicians that tell us otherwise. We all cherish values common to humanity.