The secret of archival research in Mainland China: lower your expectations and be patient

In this post, I’m going to describe what my week in Harbin taught me. I visited two archives, as well as the libraries, museums, cemeteries and talked to several local scholars. How successful my research trip is deemed, depends on the perspective I choose. If I compared it to more accessible archives in Europe or the U.S. it’s easy to see it as a failure. But if you consider the general level of restrictions in Dongbei archives, you might see why I think I made some achievements. Overall, it was a great time spent in a unique Sino-Russian environment, where the legendary Northeastern cold climate seemed to suspend its business-as-usual, allowing me to enjoy six days of mostly sunny and mild weather.

1) “Chinese Baroque” (中华巴洛克) streetview in Daowai 道外 (ex-Fujiadian 傅家甸) district; 2) St. Sophia Cathedral (Софийский собор); 3) Evening view of the Kitaiskaia Street (Китайская улица/中央大街)

The Provincial Archives

The first research site I visited was the Heilongjiang Provincial Archives (黑龙江省档案馆) in the city’s Nangang district (南岗区). Although I had connections through a friend to one of the leading archivists, I was not expecting too much to achieve, especially because I had already been refused during the summer while I was preparing my trip ahead. In July, I had asked the Hungarian Embassy in Beijing to reach out to the Provincial Office of Foreign Affairs (黑龙江省人民政府外事办公室) in order to obtain a recommendation letter for me to access the archives. Unfortunately, in August my request was denied based on a not-so-surprising reason: those files are “not open for the public” (“非对外公开”). Nevertheless, armed with my relentless determination I mentioned in my previous post on the Jilin Archives, I still went to try my luck.

1) The Heilongjiang Provincial Archives 2) the main reading room 3) Sino-Russian historical exhibition inside the archives

My friend’s friend’s name did help me to get through the basic obstacles, that is the gates of the archives. The archivist was already waiting for me and introduced to her colleague whom I had the chance to discuss my research and the kind of documents I was looking for. Despite his kind attention and honest interest in what I presented, he regretted to inform me that none of those files I listed from the official Guide (指南) were currently available for research, let alone without the Office of Foreign Affairs’ permission. I knew it was futile to argue, I would have got nothing anyways and probably even alienated this friendly employee who seemed to show genuine interest in my work.

There was no need to show my recommendation letters from the university or the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences – only a recommendation from the Foreign Affairs Office could have got me closer to the records. So, I decided to have a chat with the archivist and learn about everything else they have and perhaps build a relationship for the future. Besides being shown the published materials of the archives, I was also given a private tour in the exhibition of the public material concerning the history of Heilongjiang Province, not to mention a copy of their latest publication and a chance to comb through the latest edition of the archival guide (slightly different than the standard one from the ‘90s).

As I was about to say goodbye there was a clear sense of an apologetic atmosphere around my host for not being able to show me the original sources, so I decided it is probably a good time to ask for a favor that he is actually going to be able to do for me. Since until this point I didn’t have the right channel to get to the Municipal Archives, I thought he could arrange a visit and a pass for me with their colleagues. And that’s how I’ve got into my second objective on the following day.

The Municipal Archives

Barricaded behind construction workers’ shacks and the double line of trucks parking on the non-existing sidewalk leading up to its gate, the Harbin Municipal Archives (哈尔滨市档案馆) was facing indifferently in front of the bustling complex what is the city’s “fashion district” (服装城). The noisy and vivid wholesale stores couldn’t contrast better with the quiet and dull archival reading hall. One feels like as if by design, nothing is supposed to be really happening in these places. Yes, you can come to ask for your parents’ birth/marriage certificates or other government-registered and family-related documents, perhaps you’ll even get them. However, based on some of the reactions I’ve got from the staff, doing research doesn’t seem to be a common reason for someone to come here. “Why are you interested about this topic?” “What are you going to do with the material?” My favorite question came actually from another fellow-visitor. A retired lady, while flipping through some old school-registers probably looking for a family member, was clearly trying to make sense of my presence there as a foreigner. When she learned where I’m from, she seemed to find the clue based on her accurate, if outdated knowledge on Hungary’s political system. “Isn’t Hungary a socialist country? So, you must be a Party member then?” Clearly confused hearing my denial, she confronted me: “Then what are you doing here?”. The idea of someone looking at other people’s lives to whom he has no personal connections whatsoever, looked genuinely alien to her, and frankly I couldn’t blame her. That’s exactly how the government archives in many places seem to be set up.

The Harbin Municipal Archives

Despite the structural difficulties I feared to face again, this time eventually, I got luckier than many of my predecessors. Thanks to my visit in the provincial archives on the day before, I had the chance to try to convince the director (处长) himself about my honest intentions and ask his cooperation. Ensuring him about my familiarity with the strict policies and that the necessary arranging/digitization processes could take more time than expected, I was able to overcome his obvious suspicion. Showing him my understanding and empathy about his obligation to adhere to higher regulations, his initial unease started to melt away and I think this made all the difference. Skipping the otherwise inevitable disputes, eventually, he agreed to show me the catalogue (目录) of foreign residents registered in Harbin during the 1950s, two unofficial booklets originally intended for internal use.

Based on what local researchers told me, I must have been the only one outsider, who was allowed to see this informal compilation of records on Eastern European individuals. One of the two volumes included Russian, Polish and Lithuanian names while the other was to list Jewish people’s files. The director was skeptical when I told him that I’m looking for Austrian, Czech(oslovak), Hungarian, Romanian or Yugoslav names, but nevertheless he let me study the two books. And voilà! Combing through the hundreds of rows, I was able to identify surnames, nationalities and religious affiliations that led me to “my people”. I even stumbled into names that were now cross-referenced with other archival sources from Europe! Yes, I was told that the actual files affiliated to each names are yet to be opened, as they are currently restricted (控制) but hey, I’ve got names, and basic personal information such as DOB, arrival in China, occupation, address, date of departure from Harbin etc. This was clearly a victory for me, however small it might look like. Perhaps one day I’ll return and see the whole folder on each of these people, but for the time being I have the next couple of pieces in this big jigsaw puzzle.

The Huangshan Orthodox Christian and Jewish Cemeteries

For the rest of my time in Harbin I was roaming the streets to locate addresses of former residents like I did in Shanghai, visiting the best publicly available historical material in museums like the one in the former “New Synagogue” (犹太新会堂), or meeting up with local researchers. It was one of these friends’ help that got me to see the Orthodox and Jewish cemeteries outside of the city (皇山东正教墓地、犹太墓地). After 1958 some of the graves of the old downtown cemeteries were moved in the outskirts, where now it takes about an hour drive in often heavy traffic, a serious deterrent for any visitors. Luckily I was able to see the tombstones of both graveyards, discovering a few potentially relevant Central-European names in the Jewish one. (The Orthodox cemetery had only Russian, Polish, Armenian and some mixed Sino-Russian inscriptions.) Although you can only experience the atmosphere of the place when physically present, if you just want to research the grave-inscriptions, you can do that online too. A database created at the Heidelberg University in Germany contains photos of all the Jewish tombstones.