China Watcher: Confessions of a Peking Tom by Richard Baum University of Washington Press HK$240 China expert Richard Baum confesses that in 1967, he was mimicking James Bond in Taipei. Working on a mimeograph, Baum secretly copied 30 confidential mainland documents and smuggled them out. Dating from 1964, they were the earliest proof of Mao Zedong's 'rising animus' towards less radical leaders. This is but one tale that Baum reveals in his retrospective, 'equal parts personal memoir, travelogue, political landscape painting and critique of ... China-watching'. From his 'intellectually honest but entertaining story' we learn that even though he was a talented student, Baum's taciturn father never praised him. During his comprehensive college exams, the rival testers bickered, failed to quiz Baum - and passed him. In another incident, Baum insists American diplomat Richard Holbrooke almost beat up the self-promoting China hand Michael Oksenberg. He praises Robert Scalapino for his fairness, decency and talent in developing East Asian studies in the US. The sensibly moderate Baum favoured cordial relations with China, but chronicles how he eschewed the Western scholar-apologists for Mao and their pained recantations. One time, recalls Baum, the progressives protested against Vietnam war hawk McGeorge Bundy at a lunch. They flipped over their plates to reveal underneath the picture of the naked, running Vietnamese girl. Such boorish shenanigans merely hastened the revival of conservatism in the late 1970s. Baum says his book is popular, because 'lay readers are pleased ... that an apparently serious scholar can write a light-hearted, self-critical appraisal'. Yes, he 'touches raw nerves' among big shots, but he magnanimously spurns indicting 'insecure' younger scholars. Baum is renowned on the mainland. Forty years ago, the long-haired visitor strummed a guitar for Chinese students, as a mid-1970s picture shows. Now his Beijing publishing contacts warn Baum that many 'naughty bits' - such as observations about political life - must be 'excised' before any translation. He is not optimistic, but 'as for a Hong Kong or Taiwan translation, I remain open to offers'. Regarding his 007 gambit, Baum, now a professor at the University of California, Los Angeles, advises his doctoral students that if their 'well designed ... dissertation project' fails then try 'purloining politically sensitive documents from Taiwan or ... mainland China [because] it worked for me'. Baum's son is now a Harvard professor in international relations. The senior boasts that he 'has already outshone me - the blighter'. Does the father praise his progeny? 'I [must] or he'd limit my access to my granddaughter,' Baum laments. One suspects that many a stodgy China hand will publicly disdain Baum's candid, colourful - often hilarious - retrospective. But they will clandestinely read this expose under the covers.
