Cosmopolitan Ideal in Timothy Mo’s An Insular Possession

Abstract

Hong Kong-born British writer Timothy Mo’s novel An Insular Possession (1986) focuses on the First Opium War (1839–1842) and critically examines global inequalities. This article explores cosmopolitanism as a potential framework for mitigating cross-cultural conflicts. Instead of embracing cosmopolitanism as an inherently positive vision, the novel critiques two cosmopolitan worldviews—British colonialism and the Chinese Tianxia concept—and reveals the potential complicity of cosmopolitanism in consolidating hierarchical world orders. Through the protagonist Gideon Chase, an American expatriate engaged in studying Chinese language and culture, Mo envisions a de-colonial cosmopolitan vision that seeks to transcend the center/margin dynamic and fosters more equitable cross-cultural interactions. Gideon’s ultimate failure to alleviate Sino–British tensions prompts reflections on global justice and underscores the urgent need to establish a cosmopolitan world order marked by peace, mutual respect and tolerance of difference.

1. Introduction

In an interview with American Malaysian writer Shirley Lim, Timothy Mo claims, “I have an interest in the marginal. That’s what I know looking at in my books now” (Lim and Mo 2010, p. 561). Mo’s personal trajectory and literary career embody his endeavors to pinpoint his position in the liminal space between geographic and cultural boundaries, challenging the center/margin binary opposition. Born in 1950 to a Chinese father and a British mother, Mo spent his childhood in Hong Kong and later received higher education at Oxford. His cross-cultural background inspires his engagement with the hierarchical structures that prevail in global power dynamics, as exemplified by the tensions between the dominant and the marginal in postcolonial and transnational contexts.

Mo’s first three novels, namely The Monkey King (1978), Sour Sweet (1982) and An Insular Possession (1986), critique the imbalanced power structure in cultural exchanges and reflect how the protagonists negotiate multiple identities in the liminal space between cultures. The Monkey King examines the challenges faced by Wallace Nolasco, a Chinese–Portuguese hybrid from Macao, in integrating himself into the Poon family, a traditional Chinese clan in Hong Kong. Sour Sweet, set in 1960s London, portrays the Chen family, who grapples with the tension between assimilation into British society and maintaining cultural isolation. An Insular Possession, written through the lens of American expatriates during the First Opium War (1839–1842), highlights the role of translation as a means of negotiation and a method of reinforcing colonial forces. Mo’s relocation to Southeast Asia in the 1990s marked a turning point in his literary career, as Mo shifted his focus from the China–West relationship to a broader critique of center/margin power structures, especially in Southeast Asian countries. The Redundancy of Courage (1991) explores neocolonialism in postcolonial Indonesia, Brownout on Breadfruit Boulevard (1995) sheds light on the challenges of modernization in the Philippines, Renegade or Halo² (1999) engages with the migratory experiences of an Amerasian Filipino and Pure (2012) reflects the rise of religious extremism in Thailand. Across his works, Mo dismantles ideologies that contribute to the center/margin binary, and seeks to reconstruct power structures from marginalized perspectives.

Although written in the 1980s, An Insular Possession proposes a cosmopolitan outlook that seeks to transcend the binary thinking embedded in imperial and nationalist discourses and continues to offer a critical lens for readers to examine the contemporary global landscape. Amid the recent escalation of the China–US trade war, an observer notes that “[e]conomic and geopolitical tensions between China and the West have deepened, challenging decades of globalization” (Manca 2025). However, the same observer also cautions the following: “The danger lies in confusing political entities with their citizens and assuming that the interests of Western and Chinese people are completely opposed” (ibid.). In light of such binary oppositions in public discourses, this article reads An Insular Possession as a literary intervention that challenges the center/margin dichotomy underpinning 19th–century Sino–British relations. Set in Canton (Guangzhou), Hong Kong and Macao in the 1830s and 1840s, this novel explores historical events, including Britain’s opium trade, the destruction of opium by Chinese officials at Bocca Tigris (Humen), the First Opium War and the subsequent cession of Hong Kong to Britain. This novel centers on Gideon Chase, an American expatriate working for the East India Company in Canton, who finds himself at odds with the local British community over the opium trade and colonial expansion. Gideon and his friends establish The Lin Tin Bulletin and River Bee, a newspaper that articulates the voices of the American community and counters the British-founded newspaper Canton Monitor. The protagonist Gideon’s role in cross-cultural communication proves particularly significant to this research, as his efforts to mediate between China and Britain through translation reflect a cosmopolitan outlook. On the one hand, as a witness to Sino–British conflicts, Gideon critiques the biases inherent in colonial narratives and offers an alternative discourse, which contests the imperial perspective from the colonial peripheries. On the other hand, his commitment to language and culture learning symbolizes the active process of constructing a de-colonial cosmopolitan worldview that embraces cultural plurality and mutual understanding.

As cosmopolitanism bears multiple connotations and encompasses a broad scope of theoretical perspectives, this paper mainly draws on theories of cosmopolitanism that are most relevant to the analysis of An Insular Possession. David Held contends that cosmopolitanism implies “the ethical and political space which sets out the terms of reference for the recognition of people’s equal moral worth, their active agency and what is required for their autonomy and development” and “builds on principles that all could reasonably assent to in defending basic ideas which emphasize equal dignity, equal respect, the priority of vital needs and so on” (Held 2010, p. 49). On the other hand, cosmopolitanism considers “the hermeneutic complexity of traditions, with their unique temporal and cultural structures” (ibid., p. 49). In Held’s definition, cosmopolitanism emphasizes respect for equality, human dignity and basic needs while recognizing cultural diversity.

The theoretical framework of cosmopolitanism, with its focus on mutual respect and tolerance of differences, advocates for cultural hybridity as a means of understanding cultural diversity and interconnectedness. Ian Woodward and Zlatko Skrbis argue that “at the core of the cosmopolitan agenda is a radical decoupling of social action and imagination from national or local anchors—freed from the assumptions of methodological nationalism—toward a cosmopolitan culture which is seen as globally open, and inviting cultural cross-pollination, hybridity and fluidity” (Woodward and Skrbis 2012, p. 128). Their conceptualization of a cosmopolitan culture is manifested in Gideon’s shift to a culturally hybrid outlook through language learning. For the purpose of this research, cosmopolitanism is defined as a discursive framework that emphasizes openness to and respect for different cultures and traditions and proposes a more comprehensive, multi-perspectival outlook on the world. Importantly, this paper conceptualizes cosmopolitanism not as a fixed state, but as a fluid, ongoing process, because cultural interactions feature continuous and inherently incomplete negotiations.

While cosmopolitanism is often celebrated for its ideals of open-mindedness and global solidarity, this essay explores its dark undercurrents and investigates how this ideal notion of global interconnectedness may conceal power asymmetries. Firstly, the universalist ideals of cosmopolitanism have long been entangled with colonialism. As Daniel Weltman claims, “[cosmopolitanism] seems to justify of [sic] colonialism of two sorts” (Weltman 2024, p. 25), because it “supports the enforcement of universal moral norms” (ibid., p. 25) and “promote[s] ideas like common ownership of the earth or open borders” (ibid., p. 26). The intertwining of cosmopolitanism and colonialism is particularly evident in Immanuel Kant’s controversial concept of cosmopolitanism. Admittedly, Kant condemns Europeans’ colonial expansion: “the injustice that the latter [the civilized states] show when visiting foreign lands and peoples (which to them is one and the same as conquering those lands and peoples) takes on terrifying proportions” (Kant [1795] 2006, p. 82). Kant’s cosmopolitanism, however, implies a distinction between Europe as the civilized center and the rest of the world as the uncivilized margin, and this hierarchical worldview is manifested in his justification of war as “an indispensable means of bringing about progress in culture” (ibid., p. 35). Therefore, Kantian cosmopolitanism is often criticized for its “notorious racist underpinnings” (Mignolo 2009, p. 112) and its role in “the formation of European imperial powers and of European expansion in America, Africa, and Asia” (ibid., p. 116). This novel, set in the colonial era, sheds light on the dark undercurrents of cosmopolitanism as reflected in British colonialism and discloses how cosmopolitanism justifies “civilizing” missions and a hierarchical world order that positions Britain at the center of the civilized world and China at the uncivilized margins. Secondly, the novel contests the concept of Tianxia (“all under heaven”), an ancient Chinese version of cosmopolitanism. Tianxia “was a Confucian concept for uniting various tribes and peoples under central imperial rule” (Rofel 2012, p. 444), and this idea “[was] enabled by China’s tributary system”, i.e., “a hierarchical order descending from civilized states, with China at the apex, to barbarian ones” (ibid., p. 443). In a sense, Tianxia, like Kantian cosmopolitanism, establishes a center/margin power structure between China and the rest of the world. The second part of this essay will analyze how An Insular Possession subverts colonial cosmopolitanism and the Tianxia concept as reflected in the Sino–British relationship.

An Insular Possession diverges from the established framework of diasporic Chinese literature, including Mo’s earlier works The Monkey King and Sour Sweet. This novel employs non-Chinese perspectives and thus revises the established paradigm of Chinese-centric narratives that revolve around Chinese protagonists and themes related to China (see Zhao 2005, pp. 46–47). In addition, the involvement of American expatriates, outsiders to the Opium War, in Sino–British conflicts complicates the center/margin power structure and highlights a nuanced interplay of multiple political influences shaping cultural exchanges in the colonial period. While Mo focuses on cultural conflicts in his literary creation, as he explains in an interview, “What’s interesting about these times, and what I write about, is the clash of cultures, the war of civilisations” (Jaggi 2000), mediation between cultures through a cosmopolitan outlook also emerges as an important theme in his novel. This essay will critically examine two cosmopolitan worldviews, British colonialism and the Tianxia concept, as factors that cause Sino–British conflicts in the 19th century. The analysis will frame Gideon’s cultural mediation as an exploration of an alternative ideal that promises to break through binary thinking and contributes to a more equitable and just world order.

2. Dark Undercurrents of Cosmopolitanism and Sino–British Tensions

The scholarly debate surrounding An Insular Possession stems from its engagement with colonial discourse. Elaine Yee Lin Ho argues that this novel “resists the notion of history as a master narrative produced by a dominant discourse” (Ho 1994, p. 59). Ho’s idea finds resonance with Erhard Reckwitz, who contends that the novel features “the usual mixture of factual generalia and fictional individua” (Reckwitz 2010, p. 55). In his opinion, the novel presents a Bildungsroman at its fictional micro-level, which involves Gideon’s attempts to transcend the ethnocentric perception and ultimately challenges the colonial narrative at the historical macro-level (ibid., pp. 55–57). John McLeod, however, remarks on the limited impact of Gideon’s anti-colonial discourse and concludes that this novel “questions the extent to which arguing for the uncertainty of representation positively effects change and resistance” (McLeod 1999, p. 72). This novel’s ambivalent stance on colonialism also provokes critical scrutiny. Wei Ruan criticizes this novel for its potentially distorted account of the Opium War and what he perceives as derogatory descriptions of China (see Ruan 2012, p. 90). The current study contests the reductive opinion that An Insular Possession merely aligns with Orientalist discourse, an ideological framework that constructs the East as exotic, backward and subordinate while positioning the West as dominant. Instead, this study will contextualize the novel in the colonial era and scrutinize how the novel reveals the dark undercurrents of cosmopolitanism that underpin British imperialism and Sino-centric worldviews.

The 19th century was a period of colonialism, territorial expansions and the rise of capitalism. British colonialism, in particular, entangled with the imperative to promote free trade and was often justified by a civilizing mission that sought to spread the wisdom of Christianity and Western civilization. An Insular Possession critically engages with this colonial paradigm, especially through its portrayal of Britain’s opium trade in China. This ideology creates barriers to cross-cultural communication and exacerbates Sino–British tensions. At its core, the novel reveals that British colonialism, rooted in a hierarchical view of races, asserts British supremacy through the systematic othering of China. The Canton Monitor claims the following:

The price of progress can never be cheap. Civilisation and Christianity may not always find an unobstructed path and, if such proves the case, the forces of darkness and prejudice must be cut down to make a way for the agents of improvement. [...] It cannot be supposed that the Chinese, in their arrogance and false conviction of superiority, should for a moment imagine that the detested foreigner shall provide the occasion and means of their own betterment.

(Mo 1986, pp. 336–7)

This assertion assumes a stark contrast between British “civilization” and Chinese “barbarism”. Such a willful dismissal of the Other as uncivilized inevitably leads to hostility, which justifies violence and aggression. The Canton Monitor openly advocates for war against China, asserting, “Under their guns how would the mandarins have dared be insolent?” (ibid., p. 44), and ultimately frames the Opium War as “a final lesson” (ibid., p. 508). By disclosing the colonial mindset, which fuels Britain’s aggression against China, this novel reveals the paradox of cosmopolitanism, which professes global interconnectedness and legitimizes colonial domination.

The novel also critiques the Tianxia worldview, which prevailed in ancient China until the mid-nineteenth century, when the intrusion of European countries threatened China’s tributary system. This concept, which “delineated different gradations of how thoroughly peoples had embraced Confucian precepts”, is “metaphorically and spatially manifested in going from the center out to the borders” (Rofel 2012, p. 444). The Tianxia idea envisions an interconnected world order, where China, referred to as Tianchao (“Celestial Empire”), is located at the center of the world, while regions such as Southeast Asia, South Asia and Europe are categorized as Waiyi (foreigners or barbarians). This Sino-centric worldview is considered “overwhelmingly arrogant cast in relation to the peoples and cultures China had historically encountered” (Basu 2014, p. 928). Although An Insular Possession does not explicitly mention the term Tianxia, it critically examines the hierarchical structure embedded in this worldview, as evidenced by its ironic reference to the phrase “Celestial Empire” (Mo 1986, p. 48). The novel describes the Portuguese colony Macao as “the transplanted civilisation of the Atlantic” separated “from the Celestial Empire” (ibid., p. 48). This spatial description subverts the hierarchical geography embedded in the Tianxia worldview, because Europe is conceived as an equal and autonomous civilization sphere rather than a marginalized and subordinate Waiyi. Furthermore, the novel suggests that China’s sense of superiority provokes resentment among British traders and diplomats, intensifying the friction between China and Britain that unfolds through the narrative. A notable example is the diplomatic dispute over the term pin, which means “an [sic] humble petition” (ibid., p. 42). When Lord Napier, a British diplomat, refuses to employ this submissive term in his commission and instead opts for expressions that suggest diplomatic equality, Chinese officials reject this commission and expel him from Canton. The editors of The Canton Monitor view the rejection as “a magnificent disregard and condescension” (ibid., p. 43) and openly suggest military retaliation. The tensions, partly stemming from ritual submission and the unequal power structure implied by the Tianxia concept, lead to the escalation of bilateral conflicts, which culminates in the Sino–British war and concludes with China’s defeat.

As Mo writes in an article, “Strife is the motor of both the great novel and the indifferent motion picture. Neither will work without this ‘binary opposition’” (Mo 2015, p. 317). British colonialism and the Chinese Tianxia concept foreground cosmopolitan ideals of global interconnectedness, yet their shared insistence on cultural hierarchies deepens misunderstandings and contributes to Sino–British conflicts. By exposing the problematic logic embedded in the two worldviews, An Insular Possession demonstrates how they fuel Sino–British tensions and ultimately cause a violent war. This novel thus invites a reflection on the limitations of the cosmopolitan visions in the 19th century, which often masked a hierarchical power structure under the pretext of spreading what was deemed a sophisticated civilization. An Insular Possession thus challenges the idea that cosmopolitanism inherently advocates for equality, and discloses how cosmopolitanism can justify exclusion and reinforce hegemonic systems.

3. Cross-Cultural Communication and an Alternative Cosmopolitanism

An Insular Possession illustrates Gideon’s development of a new cosmopolitan vision, rooted in cross-cultural communication and respect for cultural differences. At the beginning of the novel, Gideon is depicted as an idealist young man, who opposes the proposition to force open the Chinese market. As he claims in public, “Is it right, though, Ridley, that we should force the Chinese to trade with us when it is not their wish?” (Mo 1986, p. 17). Gideon’s idea promises an alternative cosmopolitan ideal, which breaks through a hierarchical view and instead recognizes China’s sovereign equality.

Gideon’s commitment to language acquisition and culture study is a crucial aspect of his cosmopolitan ideal. Despite his friends’ prejudices against China, Gideon dedicates himself to his studies, which enable him to appreciate cultural differences and develop a hybrid identity. Walter Mignolo defines languaging as the moment in which “‘a living language’ [...] describes itself as a way of life [...] at the intersection of two (or more) languages” (Mignolo 2000, p. 264). Building on this term, Mignolo further defines “bilanguaging” as “living between languages” (ibid., p. 264). In essence, Mignolo conceives language as a way of life and bilanguaging as the interaction between different ways of life by oscillating between languages. This perspective finds resonance with Galin Tihanov, who contends that “[c]ultural cosmopolitanism [...] has at its core the appreciation of difference, and language is the centre to this understanding of the world as the site of interaction between distinctive cultures” (Tihanov 2021, p. 15). Both Mignolo’s and Tihanov’s ideas are confirmed in the novel by Gideon’s linguistic practice, influenced by his teacher Father Ribeiro’s assertion that “[t]o learn the language of the Chinese is perforce for you to become something of a Chinese yourself or at least to adopt for a while their habits of thought” (Mo 1986, p. 105). Gideon embodies the practice of living between languages through linguistic and cultural fluidity, and a telling example is Gideon’s editorial work, in which his bilingual capability contributes to cultural interaction. While reviewing a newspaper article, Gideon comes across the phrase “Bulletin and River Bee and Prices Current” and argues that the repeated use of the conjunction “and” “appear[s] inelegant” and “impart[s] a certain looseness of thought” (ibid., p. 233). Drawing on his knowledge of the Chinese language, Gideon suggests replacing the conjunction “and” with the preposition “with” and explains that “[i]n its terseness, in its grammatical sinew, the most classical Chinese exquisitely avoids such a weak jointure” (ibid., p. 233; italics in the original). Gideon’s linguistic hybridity confirms the equality between cultures and languages and envisions a cosmopolitan outlook that privileges intercultural dialogue and enriches English expressions through reciprocal exchange.

Gideon’s command of the Chinese language enables him to gather first-hand materials for his newspaper and foster mutual understanding between Chinese and English-speaking readers. In an essay titled “On the literary modes of the Chinese”, Gideon examines classical Chinese novels Chin Ping May and The Dream of the Red Chamber, alongside European novels Don Quixote, Clarissa, Tom Jones and Moll Flanders. Gideon challenges the notion that “[t]he flagrant flaunting of immorality and, indeed, the revelling in scenes of vice and debauchery distinguishes the Chinese novel from its Western counterpart” (ibid., p. 316), and further argues that the main differences “appear to reside in their respective notions of what properly constitutes narrative” (ibid., p. 316). Drawing on his linguistic expertise, Gideon attributes this distinction to grammatical differences, observing that “Chinese is uninflected; that is to say, it lacks tenses” (ibid., p. 317). Gideon’s conclusion that “there are advantages and disadvantages in both” (ibid., p. 317) manifests that he recognizes Chinese as an equally valid and coherent language and refuses to assume the superiority of European languages.

Gideon’s approach to language, in essence, embodies a de-colonial vision of cosmopolitanism. As Gideon says, language learning primarily aims to “communicate properly with [the Chinese], in terms acceptable to them as to ourselves” (ibid., p. 53), an opinion that aligns with Karpinski’s idea that “[t]he meaning of language is communication: a performative gesture of receptiveness, opening to the ‘foreign’ or Other” (Karpinski 2012, p. 8). Gideon’s de-colonial cosmopolitanism manifests in his journalistic work, which, due to its translingual and transcultural awareness, attempts to narrate history from the margins of the imperial structure and disrupt the colonial narrative. While the empire is often perceived as a monolithic entity that imposes metropolitan dominance over its colonies, An Insular Possession discloses the internal fractures and contradictions within the imperial power. An internal other of the empire refers to a member marginalized in the imperial hierarchy due to his/her unfavorable qualities assumed to hinder the solidarity, progress and expansion of the empire. As an American expatriate, Gideon embodies the marginal position of the United States within the hierarchy of the imperial structure in the 1830s and the 1840s, when “the official U.S. presence [in China] was so small, poorly funded, and militarily weak as to verge on insignificant. The British sometimes scoffed at it” (Haddad 2013, p. 3). This marginal position enables Gideon to interrogate the contradictions inherent in colonialism. While The Canton Monitor serves as a propaganda instrument for British colonizers, Gideon seeks to contradict the British-centric narrative by amplifying American voices. He strategically employs nationalist rhetoric in his articles, as evidenced by his declaration in the inaugural issue, “Let our small, clear voice of reason be heard in London” (Mo 1986, p. 242) and his slogan-like proclamation, “WE ARE PROUD TO BE AMERICAN” (ibid., p. 274). In essence, Gideon narrates history from an anti-colonial stance. While The Canton Monitor describes the Opium War as an occasion “when the Chinese were on the point of being taught a final lesson” (ibid., p. 508), Gideon exposes the atrocities committed by the British army and justifies Chinese villagers’ self-defense, as follows:

When their brutish appetites were slaked, they did not scruple to mutilate the outraged flesh of their victims. Their behaviour around the village of San Yuan Li became so offensive to the inhabitants that they rose as a man in defence of their hearths, their temples, and their daughters.

(ibid., p. 509)

Instead of describing the war as a missionary or enlightening enterprise, Gideon recounts it as a series of “inevitable reverses and humiliations” (ibid., p. 509). Gideon’s newspaper article diverges from the dehumanizing rhetoric of colonial narratives; instead, it humanizes the Other and represents the Chinese as equals to Westerners. Gideon’s nuanced depictions, therefore, challenge colonial narratives and question the hegemony of the metropolitan center from the marginal position within the imperial power structure. Gideon’s journalistic work, in this sense, embodies a cosmopolitan vision that acknowledges the fundamental equality of human rights and dignity in international relations.

As Barbie Zelizer correctly claims, “when journalists are involved in record-keeping about the past, they reflect larger impulses that complicate its ownership” (Zelizer 2008, p. 381). In other words, journalists engage in recording history and thus contest historians’ exclusive access to and authority over history. In addition to offering written accounts of historical events, journalists also “explain events in the public sphere”, and therefore “drawing from memory and the past offers an obvious source through which to understand topical events” (ibid., p. 383). Gideon, as the founder and journalist of The Lin Tin Bulletin and River Bees, illuminates the complexities of Chinese society and Sino–British relations in his newspaper articles and transforms journalism into an interpretative historical discourse. Gideon’s newspaper articles serve as a contrapuntal interpretation of historical events represented by The Canton Monitor. As “there is always a residue of incomprehensibility behind what is known, and an engagement with subjectivity that cannot be eliminated” (Megill 2007, p. 56), history is in a process of perpetual reinterpretation, with each historical account revealing new perspectives and challenging established narratives. Writing from the colonial margins, or adopting the stance of “a citizen of a neutral republic” (Mo 1986, p. 351), Gideon contests colonialism and offers an alternative framework of historical representations, one that aspires to transcend hegemonic narratives, dismantle entrenched prejudices and foster dialogue with marginalized voices.

4. The Limitations and Further Development of Gideon’s Cosmopolitan Ideal

Despite his anti-colonial stance and efforts at cross-cultural communication, Gideon’s approach is marked by an inherent ambivalence that ultimately compromises his cosmopolitan ideal. His oscillation between opposition to and complicity with colonialism ultimately undermines the de-colonial cosmopolitan ideal that he upholds. While attempting to revise British representations of China, he paradoxically remains entangled in the very colonial narrative that he critiques. For instance, he remarks on what he perceives as the “apparent inhumanity of the Chinese” by drawing broad conclusions from isolated cases and claims that “[t]ruly, life is strange and holds out some perverted instances” (ibid., pp. 257–58). Similarly, Gideon laments that “in their besotted arrogance, the Chinese are unable to distinguish between honourable and dishonourable foreigners, those who are implicated in this disgraceful trade and those who, to their eternal credit, abstain from it” (ibid., p. 314). While these critiques may be intended for a nuanced and comprehensive portrayal of Chinese society and contest China’s Tianxia worldview, the rhetoric of demoralization inadvertently reproduces the Orientalist logic and may perpetuate the very stereotypes that he seeks to dismantle. Gideon’s cross-cultural communication is inherently contradictory. It is thus no wonder that some scholars criticize this novel for inheriting the Orientalist tradition (see Ho 2000, p. 84; Ruan 2012, p. 90), and even Mo himself admits in an article that “I received some politically incorrect criticism for so doing” (Mo 2015, p. 305).

This critique, however, risks a simplistic reading of this novel. An Insular Possession highlights the constraints of cosmopolitan ideals when confronted with strong political power. Gideon’s failure is illustrated by the fact that his linguistic knowledge is exploited by the British army to facilitate violence against Chinese civilians. Gideon’s Chinese translation of the proclamation, issued by the British Land Forces, that “It is not the intention of General Gough or the officers and men under his command to cause needless destruction to life and property at Canton” (Mo 1986, p. 474) assures a sense of security to the Canton residents, even as they later fall victim to attacks launched by the British army. Although Gideon denounces the “hypocritical and provocative” exploitation of his language skills to a British major-general (ibid., p. 474), the bitter irony of Gideon’s predicament illuminates the limitations of Gideon’s cosmopolitan ideal within the overarching framework of colonialism. As Pheng Cheah contends, “This simplistic analogy between the contingency of signification and the contingency of sociocultural formations repeats the axiom that reality is discursively constructed” (Cheah 2007, p. 84). While Gideon’s cross-cultural communication contributes to mutual understanding between China and Britain, his intervention proves futile within the overarching colonial power structure. This is because his de-colonial cosmopolitanism, which corresponds to Cheah’s critique of “a reductive understanding of colonial rule as the establishment of cultural authority” (ibid., p. 84; italics in the original), simplistically attributes colonial rule to a matter of cultural representation and neglects material dimensions of imperial power, such as institutional structures, legal systems and economic exploitations. This theme is reinforced in the final chapter, which portrays Gideon’s disillusionment following Britain’s military triumph and the subsequent occupation of Hong Kong. Walter’s response lays bare the inadequacy of Gideon’s cosmopolitan ideal in a world governed by force and power, as follows:

I see you belong to the category, old friend, which will have things in the round, which does love an end, causes, the balance sheet drawn and equalled. But, my dear Gid, the world is not like that—it is untidy, there are no reasons, the final sum never balances.

(Mo 1986, p. 575; italics in the original)

Walter’s words thus convey this novel’s critique of a world order, where power prevails over everything and suffocates the pursuit of cosmopolitan ideals, however noble and sublime. At the height of colonial expansion, Gideon’s attempts to negotiate through translation and journalism remain powerless against the political mechanism that sustains colonial dominance.

This essay, however, does not dwell on a pessimistic perspective of Gideon’s cosmopolitan ideal. Following Walter’s critique of injustice, Gideon claims, “This unequal contest [...] cannot endure for ever” (ibid., p. 575). In the face of Walter’s skepticism, he further argues, “when it must end, and it must, is with the exit, by death, of all the actors, ourselves among the number. That is as inevitable as the victory of the British” (ibid., p. 576). Gideon, thus, envisions a period marked by the end of power politics and offers an alternative mindset that seeks to transcend the constraints of the colonial era. To deepen the discussion, it is necessary to analyze the two pseudo-appendices that conclude the novel, as the appendices constitute an integral part of the fictional narrative rather than merely serving as a paratext relegated to the margins of the “main text”. As many scholars have argued, An Insular Possession is in essence a work of historiographic metafiction that blurs boundaries between fact and fiction and defies definitive interpretations of history (see Ho 1994; Zhang and Wang 2011 and Guo and Liu 2015). The inclusion of the appendices exemplifies this narrative strategy and invites a reconsideration of the novel’s inquiry into cosmopolitanism. Often overlooked in critical readings, these pseudo-appendices trace the further development of Gideon’s career and reaffirm his ongoing commitment to the cosmopolitan ideal, which resists narrative closure and bears an open-ended, evolving nature.

The first appendix is a name list extracted from A Gazetteer of Place Names and Biographies Relative to the Early China Coast, published in Shanghai in 1935. According to the entry relevant to Gideon’s biography, Gideon pursues a lifetime career as a Sinologue and serves as “a bridge between the first generation of the ‘pioneer’ scholars of the Chinese language [...] and the second generation” (ibid., p. 579). Gideon continues to promote cultural exchanges and, instead of confining himself to cultural approaches, such as translation and journalism, actively involves himself in sociopolitical reform. As noted in the biography, “His considerable prestige with the Chinese Government and personal friendship with Viceroy Li Hung Chang and Prince Kung assisted in reform and modernisation in the last quarter of the 19th century” (ibid., p. 579). In doing so, Gideon’s cosmopolitan ideal evolves beyond its initial limitations and extends into the realm of political engagement. Therefore, this essay agrees with Reckwitz’s opinion that this novel, as a Bildungsroman, portrays Gideon’s journey of learning to overcome an “ethnocentric perception of the Other” (Reckwitz 2010, p. 50). As Pheng Cheah claims, world literature and world history play a pivotal role in an individual’s Bildung, which “makes us renounce one-sidedness and particularity and see things from the multiple perspectives of others” (Cheah 2016, p. 63). Accordingly, Gideon’s Bildung is indicated by his attempts to surpass a particularistic viewpoint and understand the Other by studying Chinese culture and engaging with Chinese history.

This feature is further confirmed in the second appendix, which includes excerpts from Gideon’s autobiography titled The Morning of My Days. In his writing, Gideon recollects his experiences in China and reflects on broader historical developments. In the postcolonial and postmodern context, an autobiography can be read as “social and literary documentations of alternate histories and resistance movements thereby debunking available dominant histories recorded by privileged groups of historians” (Bose 2020, p. 28). Gideon’s autobiography expresses his cosmopolitan ideal that challenges cultural hierarchy. Daniel Levy and Natan Sznaider’s concept of “cosmopolitan memory” proves valuable in supporting this analysis. In their opinion, cosmopolitan memory “focus[es] on the simultaneity of universal and particular outlooks” and “questions the ‘methodological nationalism’ that still prevails in much of the social sciences” (Levy and Sznaider 2002, p. 103). Specifically, cosmopolitan memory highlights “some recognition of the history (and the memories) of the ‘Other’” (ibid., p. 103). In his autobiography, Gideon recognizes the modern history of China and observes that “[a]t that very moment history appeared to be repeating itself in China with the Allies knocking at the gates of Peking, while in our homeland the thunderclouds gathered” (Mo 1986, p. 590). Here, Gideon parallels the Second Opium War (1856–1860) in China and the quasi-contemporary Civil War (1861–1865) in America and thus establishes a dialogical relationship between “us” and “the other”. In addition, cosmopolitan memory presupposes a “universalistic minimum”, or “cosmopolitan common sense”, which “involv[es] a number of substantive norms that must be upheld at all costs” (Levy and Sznaider 2016, p. 201). These norms may include “a pursuit of moral justice” and “a universal human concern” (Wang 2014, p. 172). In his writing, Gideon tends to draw lessons from regional issues and further engages with universal problems. By examining Sino–British conflicts, Gideon not only meditates on the specifics of these historical events but also extends his analysis to broader and universal themes, such as human nature. For example, he recalls that it was shocking to see some purveyors of opium, “large-minded, hospitable, and kindly” by nature, involved in a bad cause (Mo 1986, p. 588), and laments that “[h]ow I could wish for some catalyst, some alchemical ingredient that, tossed into the crucible of men’s actions, would free the dross from the gold of a man’s nature” (ibid., p. 588). The shift from the Sino–British tensions to the complexity of human nature underlines Gideon’s cosmopolitan vision, as he transcends regional issues to a universal concern about justice, morality and the possibility of human improvement.

However, the cosmopolitanism suggested in Gideon’s autobiography is better understood as an ideal rather than a definitive reality, as manifested by the employment of both the past tense and the present tense. This rhetorical strategy reveals a tension between the limitations of the current world order and the vision of a more equitable future, while constructing a temporal connection between reflective hindsight and ongoing negotiation. For instance, when recalling his career in journalism, Gideon deplores the futility of his work by claiming “how deluded was this search for truth, literal truth, and how fallacious its instruments” (ibid., p. 589; italics in the original). Gideon revisits his time as a journalist and complains about the inherent prejudices within journalism, thereby exposing a lack of justice in the current international politics. In the last two paragraphs, the temporality of Gideon’s autobiography shifts to a future-oriented perspective. As he writes, “Just as I have received, so now do I give in my turn. [...] It was true of our predecessors and shall be true of those countless more who shall come when we are gone, wandering down like white sheep after us to the dark shore of eternity. To you, reader, I reach out my hand” (ibid., p. 593). By passing down his career to his readers, Gideon positions himself not only as a recorder of historical events, but also as a participant in reforming the world. Gideon urges his readers to inherit his cosmopolitan ideal and transform the unequal international relations that he has witnessed. Gideon’s autobiography serves as a bridge between the past and the future, which shares his lived experiences with posterity and promises to shape their outlook on the world. As Pheng Cheah asserts, “the imperative to act to change the world is a response to the advent of the other” (Cheah 2016, p. 161). Gideon calls for meaningful engagement with the other, especially the Non-West, previously marginalized by the imperial power structure, and proposes the “evolution of our human societies” (Mo 1986, p. 593). Through his autobiography, Gideon acknowledges the deficiencies of the current world order and his limitations in promoting the evolution of the world. Rather than resigning himself to these constraints, Gideon envisions a cosmopolitan world order characterized by peace, mutual respect and tolerance of difference.

5. Conclusions

Cosmopolitanism is generally viewed from an optimistic perspective, but Timothy Mo’s novel, An Insular Possession, set in the 19th century, reveals how British colonialism and the ancient Chinese Tianxia concept, two cosmopolitan worldviews, promote binary thinking and reinforce bilateral conflicts. The novel envisions an alternative cosmopolitan outlook that seeks to transcend binary oppositions and advocates for the coexistence of multiple cultures on equal terms. Adopting the perspective of Gideon Chase, an American expatriate and outsider to the Opium War, An Insular Possession dismantles the center/margin dynamic and explores the possibility of disrupting colonial narratives from the margin of the imperial power structure, particularly through language learning and journalism. This novel, however, exposes the limitations of a de-colonial cosmopolitan ideal in the colonial era, as Gideon seeks to mediate between China and Britain only through cultural strategies. The evolution of Gideon’s cosmopolitan outlook suggests that cosmopolitanism, as an ideal rather than a given fact, is an ongoing process of negotiation.

As Laura Hall concludes, “Mo’s new world order [...] centers itself on the individual who strives but does not always succeed in asserting his or her right to secede from institutions and the group” (Hall 2008, p. 296). An Insular Possession illuminates the constraints imposed by global power dynamics on individual agency. This novel functions not only as a historical novel that narrates historical events from a marginal perspective, but also as an invitation to reflect on global justice that requires critical engagement from every human being. Through Gideon’s appeal to his readers, the novel positions cosmopolitanism as a collective responsibility that involves an awareness of the injustices in the world order and an active participation in systematic reform. Nowadays, geopolitical tensions such as the Russo–Ukrainian war and the China–US trade war reinforce the uncertainty of the global order. The cosmopolitan ideal conveyed by the novel retains its relevance, as it insists on the mediation between competing interests and recognizes shared humanity in the face of global conflicts.