From Strongroom to Seminar

img_4680Today I attended a fascinating conference titled ‘Strongroom to Seminar’ hosted by the Institute of Historical Research and The National Archives. The aim of the conference was to share strategies and ideas as to how to best engage students in the archival method.

The keynote speaker was Professor Jo Fox of Durham University, whose presentation was so good I thought I’d blog about it here!

Jo spoke about the shifting identity of the archive in the 21st Century and the importance, as well as the challenges, of introducing archives to students as part of a holistic pedagogic method in History Departments across universities. It’s a topic I feel strongly about and one we’ve taken seriously at The Hong Kong Heritage Project, where we’ve rolled out a number of innovative oral history and archive programmes for high school and university students.

Everyday Disappointments

One of the most thought-provoking aspects of Jo’s presentation was to touch on the uncertainty and instability of archival research. We’ve all experienced the gradual dissipation of hope and excitement as documents don’t quite yield the answers we expect – but how can be this be taught as part of a history module?

Jo argues that the process of archival study should shape the questions we ask of our sources, and that as historians we need to constantly re-frame our research questions in the face of everyday disappointments. It’s vital to teach students the value of historical problem solving and the difference between finding documents and finding useful documents. Each research journey is personal, and deeply affecting. Research invokes a spectrum of emotion – from boredom, excitement and frustration – feelings that can’t easily be taught as part of a course module. Jo offers practical solutions to this dilemma by turning to public history. A number of universities have recently offered hands-on modules in which students can critically engage – and indeed literally interrogate – their sources. For example, the 2011 Queen Mary University ‘Blair Government’ course introduced students to key players in the Blair cabinet, including Tony himself!

Digital Solutions?

Finally, Jo addressed another more recent challenge facing historians and the archival method – that of digitization. Digital copies of records are often touted as a cure-all to the dual problems of access and preservation. I know I’ve certainly been grateful for online collections that have saved the cost of a train ticket across the country or flights and accommodation abroad. But besides the problems faced by archives – the huge costs involved in digitisation programmes and the relentless pace of technological change – Jo argues that digitization comes at a cost for the end-user too. The sense of a collection’s materiality is being lost by a new ‘smash-and-grab’ culture in which students enter an archive, launch an eight-hour assault with a digital camera and return home to assess their booty. Something valuable is lost in this process. No longer do we spend days contemplating our sources and intellectually meandering through collections. The archive is now considered as a place to raid rather than to think. Similarly, when collections are accessed online, we not only lose the tactile enjoyment of the record but the sense of a collection’s provenance and accessioning history.  Jo asks whether digitization will prompt a change in the way in which we practice history in the twenty-first century, and I agree that it certainly calls into question the hallowed value placed on digitization in the profession today.

 

 

Dr Irma Frommer

My last blog posting examined the life of Hungarian refugee medic Dr. Jean (Eugene) Frommer and his work attending to wounded soldiers in China during the Sino-Japanese War. His wife, Dr. Irma Frommer, was also a Hungarian refugee and medical professional. She was hired by Hong Kong’s Medical Services Department in 1940 to replace Dr. Fehily, a Russian emigre who worked as the Lady Medical Officer (maternity and child welfare) under Dr. Sewlyn-Clarke from 1939 – 1940.

Colonial Office papers from 1940 reveal considerations such as nationality, pay scales (linked to nationality) and the centrality of the local Medical Register. One Colonial Official writes that:

This must be the ‘Jewish emigre’ referred to in a letter dated 31.5.1940 addressed to Sir Wilson Jameson from Mrs. Fehily, which I have enclosed in her P.F.

As Mr. Blake says, Fehily was a Russian (on both sides) so that we need hardly take exception to the Hungarian origin of Dr. Frommer as long as she is qualified to practice in Hong Kong.

The D.M.S. is satisfied that she is competent to carry out the duties required of her. But they propose to pay her a very low rate of salary and I do not know how this is altogether satisfactory. But I suppose we had better agree? and as well to the creation of an additional appointment of a Chinese woman Medical Officer.

Colonial Office officials were clearly appalled at the low salary offered to Dr. Frommer (at $4,500 PA compared to Dr. Fehily’s $7,500), with one civil servant describing the wage as ‘exploitation’. The Chinese woman Medical Officer’s salary was even lower, at $2,400, paid for by savings made from Dr. Frommer’s low rate of pay. In the event, Dr. Frommer accepted the modest salary and started work in Hong Kong in August 1940.

 

Fortress Hong Kong?

As part of my MPhil research I’m examining the obstacles and challenges faced by Central European refugees wishing to gain entry into Hong Kong before the outbreak of the Second World War in Europe by looking to the immigration ordinances that governed refugee policy and the relationship between Hong Kong and Britain.

I recently found a case at The National Archives (UK – TNA) that helps shed light on the British-Hong Kong relationship as well as the visa process which refugees needed to navigate in order to gain entry into Hong Kong. Dr. Frederick Reiss was a professor of dermatology at the National Medical College in Shanghai, and Chairman of the Medical Board for the Committee for Assistance of European Refugees in Shanghai under the direction of Michael Speelman (hence it was also known as the Speelman Committee). By September 1939 Reiss was President of the European Emigrants’ Associated Hospitals Committee in Shanghai and also head of the Shanghai Leprosorium. As a refugee from Nazi Germany, Reiss was one of many thousands who found refuge in Shanghai. However his first port of call was not the ‘Paris of the Orient’ – as Shanghai was then known – but rather the British colony of Hong Kong.

Committee for the Assistance of European Refugees in Shanghai
Committee for the Assistance of European Refugees in Shanghai, letterhead

I located Reiss’ file purely by chance whilst looking through the individual files held in the TNA series: Colonial Office – Records of the Colonial Office, Commonwealth and Foreign and Commonwealth Offices, Empire Marketing Board, and related bodies.  I remembered the name ‘Reiss’ from correspondence held in the HKHP Archive, as he was close friends with the Kadoories (most probably through the Speelman Committee connection). Reiss was born in Jerusalem on 26 September 1896 and lived and worked in Germany, most recently at the University Skin Clinic of Berlin, from whom he had procured a reference (written in German and kept as part of his file now held at the TNA). He moved to Paris on 26 August 1938 and by the time of his application to Hong Kong through the city’s British Passport Control Officer, he was living with his brother-in-law, Kahnheimer, also a refugee from Germany. Having escaped Nazi persecution in Germany, Reiss’ ultimate aim was to establish a medical practice in Hong Kong.

IMG_6932
Dr Frederick Reiss’ reference, dated 23 November 1933

 

Kahnheimer secured the help of Mr. Blacklock, a solicitor who was to smooth the visa-procurement process. Blacklock wrote direct letters and sought appointments with the Eastern Department at the Colonial Office in Whitehall, thereby circumventing the usual visa procedure, a move which greatly displeased the civil servants assigned to his case. In a memo written in August 1938, one official writes: ‘Dr. Reiss’ friends have been rather troublesome, and if they only carried out the usual procedures for obtaining visas, etc. instead of trying to short circuit them through this office, it would have been a good deal more rapid and much easier for them (and incidentally for me!).’ By January 1939, correspondence between two colonial officials shows that a subordinate was advised not to send Blacklock’s letters to Hong Kong as it may imply Britain’s interference in this case, which they were at pains to deny: ‘send only the Passport Control form. Mr. Blacklock’s letter makes a lot of assumptions and we should not lead Hong Kong to believe that Colonial Office have promised ‘sympathetic’ consideration. And tell F.O. we are referring to Hong Kong’.

Clearly, Colonial Office officials were keen to demonstrate to both Hong Kong and the Foreign Office that no undue influence was exerted on Hong Kong’s immigration decisions. Such decisions, they noted, should be made under the auspices of Hong Kong’s Immigration and Passport Ordinance once the individual was in possession of a valid passport duly visaed by a ‘competent British authority’. But what became of Reiss? Did he succeed in procuring the Hong Kong visa? Probably not, although it becomes difficult to trace Reiss’ movements in the first half of 1939 as the outcome of his application is not recorded in the TNA file. The final application decision would have been made in Hong Kong as his case was sent to the Hong Kong Government on 3 February 1939. My guess is that Reiss’ application was turned down in Hong Kong and so he made the move directly to Shanghai (an interesting history of Newfoundland and their response to Jewish refugees makes the case that many applications from doctors were rejected on the basis of professional competition, see Paul Bartrop’s False Havens for further details).

As we have already seen, by September 1939 Reiss was already acting President of the European Emigrants’ Associated Hospitals Committee in Shanghai, and also head of the Shanghai Leprosorium. In November 1939, Reiss and his wife are mentioned in a letter by Philip Samuel (based in Shanghai) writing to his mother and father in England: ‘On Saturday I gave my first informal party – 5:30 to the Metropole Cinema to see the Chinese produced film ‘Lady Precious Stream’; then dinner and dancing at this hotel. My party comprised the Wilsons and Dr. and Mrs. Frederick Reiss, who had also entertained me at their flat. He is a celebrated Shanghai skin specialist, and she (Hungarian) is most artistic – her hobbies including floral arrangements a la Japonnaise and the running of the Jewish Refugee women’s workshops.’      

Eyewitness: Hong Kong on the eve of War

Last week I visited the University of Southampton to read the papers collected during the lifetime of Hon. Philip Ellis Herbert Samuel (1900-c.1992), today housed at Hartley Library’s Special Collections. With 6.5 million manuscript items and 50,000 printed books, the library is home to one of the largest Jewish archives in Western Europe, and so well worth a visit. I was first notified about the collection a couple of years ago by a historian friend researching life in 1930s Hong Kong for an upcoming book. She kindly revealed the close links between the Hong Kong Heritage Project (the archive of the Kadoorie family) and the P.E.H. Samuel collection housed at Southampton. Samuel was employed as the confidential office manager of Sir Elly Kadoorie & Sons in both Shanghai and Hong Kong during the period 1939 – 1941. His papers provide a vivid first-hand account of the day-to-day workings of various Kadoorie businesses and also depict Hong Kong British-Jewish society on the eve of the Japanese Occupation.

Samuel was the son of British political royalty: his father, Herbert Louis Samuel, first Viscount Samuel, was the leader of the Liberal Party in Britain from 1931 – 1935 and the first High Commissioner of Palestine in 1920 – 1925. His letters to his mother, Beatrice, and father, Herbert, are often touching and affectionate, showing signs of a close familial bond. Samuel’s letters and diaries also shed light on a number of important and controversial historical events in Hong Kong on the cusp of war, including the evacuation of British women and children (for more information and first-hand accounts of the evacuation see Vivian Kong’s excellent blog), the Chinese refugee crisis, military training of volunteers and racial discrimination in the ill-fated Immigration Department – this is also covered in more detail in my blog post here.

Samuel arrived in Shanghai from Southampton in August 1939 to work for the Kadoorie family. He was met by Horace Kadoorie at Hong Kew and stayed for several weeks at Marble Hall, the family’s palatial Shanghai home, before settling into the arguably just-as-luxurious Palace Hotel. Samuel was soon introduced to another side of Shanghai, a city that had long been home to extremes of both rich and poor, as he had arrived in the midst of a Chinese, Russian and European refugee crisis. He describes his initial contact with refugees from Central Europe following a visit to a refugee ‘camp’ with Horace Kadoorie in August:

‘This camp is housed in a well-built school building with plenty of light and air, but they have to sleep in bunks (upper and lower) so as to house the maximum number. Apart from 16,000 refugees from this source, there are in Shanghai many thousands who previously came from Russia, and over a million Chinese who have come into the Settlement and French Concession and the area known as ‘Greater Shanghai’ as a result of Sino-Japanese hostilities. I hope to see more of those camps and of the Schools during my present stay in Shanghai’.

Horace Kadoorie with Miss Smith and William Deman
William Deman (teacher at SJYA School), Miss Smith and Horace Kadoorie

As someone with a keen background in volunteering and social work, Samuel immediately showed a natural interest in supporting Horace Kadoorie in the day-to-day management and operation of the Shanghai Jewish Youth Association (SJYA), an organisation established to provide aid and education to these Jewish refugees. In one of his many letters home, Samuel describes the charitable work undertaken by the Kadoorie family:

‘The problem of the refugees here is terrific. Hundreds of them are being fed by Sir Elly and his sons; and thousands – including grown-ups – are receiving education, either general or in English and in business or other subjects to fit them to take up a new career. It is not only in the provision of money and guidance that they excel. They have accurate means of discovering the needs of individual cases of hardship, and will often personally provide soup or cod liver oil to someone who is in sore need. Consumption is very general among these refugees owing to under-nourishment: so they have presented a fine X-ray installation to one of the hospitals here on condition that a free examination is made of any refugee who may be suffering from T.B.’

Following eight months in Shanghai, Samuel was transferred to Hong Kong on 20 April 1940. He was initially lodged in the Peninsula Hotel and later moved to 31 Kadoorie Avenue in August 1940 following an invitation to share the home of W.R. Lambert, manager of the E.D. Sassoon office in Hong Kong, whose wife and two sons had been evacuated to Australia. Samuel worked as the office manager of the Hong Kong branch of Sir Elly Kadoorie and Sons, then housed on the second floor of St George’s Building. Samuel soon became active in Hong Kong’s social and religious life. He subscribed to Hong Kong’s Ohel Leah Synagogue and began attending lectures at the Jewish Recreation Club organised under the auspices of the newly formed Hong Kong Jewish Youth Association. The talks were given by individuals in Hong Kong’s small Jewish community: in April Dr. H. Talbut gave a lecture on Sigmund Freud and in the following month Mrs. J.N. Frenkel spoke on the topic of ‘The Problems of Modern Youth’ –  a perennially fashionable topic it would seem! Samuel became firm friends with many in the Hong Kong Jewish community and was especially fond of E.M. Raymond, with whom he often went walking in Repulse Bay, an area noted for its natural beauty.

Peninsula in the early days
The Peninsula Hotel, Hong Kong pictured soon after its opening in 1928

Importantly, Samuel also encountered several European Jewish refugees including Edgar Laufer who hailed from Berlin and worked as the Chief Chemist at China Light and Power, as well as a mystery Viennese refugee couple and their 16-year-old daughter who Samuel treated to a night at the cinema in June 1940. In September 1940 Samuel informed his parents that he had started military training as a volunteer under Major Harry Owen Hughes. In the same letter he also described in detail the activities of the SJYA, excusing his letter’s diversion to Shanghai by explaining: ‘I side-tracked myself on this aspect of social work as there is nothing comparable to it in Hong Kong where the Jewish community is small and refugees from Europe have been expelled.’ As Samuel had made clear, by September 1940 many Jewish refugees had already left Hong Kong for Shanghai. I’ll be writing about the background to this as well as the internment and expulsion of the refugees in an upcoming blog post.

The Wiener Library, London

Dr Alfred Wiener
Dr Alfred Wiener

Next up on my whistle-stop tour of London archives is the Wiener Library, nestled opposite Russell Square and located in close proximity to Senate House and SOAS university. The Wiener Library has a fascinating history as an ‘eyewitness’ archive that recorded and documented Nazi atrocities from the 1920s onwards.

The library was originally founded by Dr Alfred Wiener in response to the surge of right-wing antisemitism in Germany and used as a device to monitor and collect information on the Nazi Party. Dr Wiener later fled Germany in 1933 and settled in Amsterdam, where he set up the Jewish Central Information Office at the request of the Board of Deputies of British Jews and the Anglo-Jewish Association.

Following the November Pogrom of 1938, Wiener made preparations to transfer his collection to the UK, which later served to help the British Government as it fought the Nazi regime. In the post-war years the library assisted the prosecutors at the Nuremberg Trial, amassed early survivor testimony and helped to shape the emerging academic study of the Holocaust.

I first came across the Wiener Library at an archives conference hosted at the London Metropolitan Archives earlier in June. The Wiener Library came up again a few months later following an email exchange with an archivist at the International Tracing Service (ITS) in Bad Arolsen, Germany. I’d originally got in touch to gather more information about a series of records created by the Hong Kong branch of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) featured on the ITS website. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately for the prospect of any future Euro trips!) the ITS archivist kindly advised me that digitised copies of the UNHCR records were housed at the Wiener Library, having been donated by the Foreign Office in 2011. A couple of days later I braved the wind, rain and generally miserable London weather to take a closer look at the records held on the library’s computer terminals – and what I found was well worth the visit.

The library’s UNHCR records provide a near complete set of case files – over 80,000 in fact – created by the organisation’s Hong Kong branch from around 1951 onwards. The files pertain to individuals or families who stayed in Hong Kong or in the Asia region and include documents and application forms concerning assistance, resettlement and emigration to various countries. The collection has been catalogued by first name, surname and date of birth. The library staff kindly allow patrons to copy documents (onto Wiener Library USB’s to avoid viruses and malware) which means files can be taken home for closer analysis.

Unfortunately, the sheer quantity of records held in the UNHCR collection make it difficult to refine searches unless names are cross-referenced across archives or according to a pre-designated list. For example, not all of the individuals recorded as part of the collection may have transited through Hong Kong, and individually saving 80,000 documents onto a fair few USB’s is also no mean feat!

Needless to say, it’s clear that these records will be an invaluable resource for the Hong Kong Refuge project. The UNHCR collection includes official and administrative information on European Jewish and White Russian refugees exiting China, reports and memorandums written by the Kadoorie brothers (Lawrence Kadoorie, later Lord, and Horace Kadoorie, later Sir) and correspondence with the International Refugee Organisation (IRO) Philippines and Far East Branch and Shanghai Branch, as well as government departments such as the Hong Kong Immigration Department.

Now that the collection has been located, the hard work of sifting through the UNHCR files and pin-pointing the refugees who transited through Hong Kong begins.