British historian writes book on Mannerheim’s journey through Asia

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By Juha Mäkinen
     
      In the beginning there was a spaceship.
      In 2005 the British publishing company Black Flame released a science fiction adventure novel entitled Strontium Dog Ruthless. The book, by author Jonathan Clements, is unlikely to be a major event in literary history, but from a Finnish point of view it is interesting that it includes a spaceship called Mannerheim.
      This spring the British Haus Publishing is releasing another book by Jonathan Clements - a biography of Finland’s wartime military commander and postwar president, Carl Gustav Mannerheim, under the title President, Soldier, Spy.
      What kind of a man is Jonathan Clements, and why in the world was he interested in Mannerheim?
     
A casually-dressed man, 37 years of age, opens the door of a flat in Jyväskylä. The walls of the apartment contain numerous souvenirs from China and Japan. A small sculpture of Mannerheim sits on top of a chest of drawers in the living room.
      Clements is a non-fiction writer specialised in the cultures of Japan and China. He studied Japanese and Chinese at the universities of Leeds and Stirling.
      One of Clements’ special interests is animé - Japanese animation. As an expert in the field, he was invited to Finncon, an event for Finnish Sci-Fi fans in 2003.
     
The consequences of the trip were more profound than he could have expected. Clements met a Finnish woman at Finncon, and they later married.
      The love created a need to study this strange northern language, and it was during a Finnish language class that Clements first heard about Mannerheim.
      “The lesson was not about Mannerheim’s life. It was about asking for directions in Helsinki: Where is the House of Parliament? Where is the Museum of Contemporary Art? And so on. The Mannerheim statue was used as a landmark”, Clements recalls.
     
As he gradually got to know more about his new home country and its history, Clements became interested in Mannerheim. He had already written a few biographies about Mao and Marco Polo, for instance.
      At the London Book Fair he mentioned to his publisher that he had learned about a man whose life was at least as fascinating as that of Marco Polo.
      Naturally, we Finns know about this even without Clements. He points out that his book is primarily aimed at British readers.
      “In the 1940s and 1950s Mannerheim was an international celebrity, but after that he has been largely forgotten outside of Finland. In Britain there is very little literature about him.”
      As an expert on Asia, Clements was interested above all in Mannerheim’s adventures in Asia. The focus of his book is on Mannerheim’s life before 1917, especially his trip through China, which he made on horseback from 1906 to 1908.
     
Clements had already sent the fisrt version of his book to his publisher when he heard that the Asian diaries of Paul Pelliot from 1906-1908 had recently been published in France.
      Pelliot was an explorer and Sinologist whose expedition was joined by Mannerheim. They travelled together only as far as Kashgari, after which point Mannerheim took his own route.
      Mannerheim’s diaries reveal that he did not like Pelliot, but what did Pelliot write about Mannerheim? Clements immediately ordered Pelliot’s diary Carnets de Route and proceeded to compare the two works.
      “Mannerheim and Pelliot were like an old married couple who do not get along with each other. Their accounts of the events of the same days often differed from each other, at times in an amusing manner.”
     
Clements takes as an example a meeting of the two men on a train on April 18th, 1906. They had met once before, and Mannerheim writes that Pelliot had trouble recognising him, as he was in civilian clothing, and exceptionally, had no moustache.
      Pelliot, for his part, writes that he was annoyed when Mannerheim interrupted his conversation with other passengers. Mannerheim spoke to him in French, but according to Pelliot’s account, Mannerheim’s demeanour was that of an American - not much of a compliment coming from a Frenchman.
     
Before China, Mannerheim and Pelliot travelled in Russian Turkestan. Pelliot spoke Russian Uzbek, and Turkish, and appears to have adapted better to local conditions than Mannerheim did.
      In Andizhan, the men met a merchant who offered them some greasy food prepared in mutton fat. Mannerheim describes the dinner as not very tasty, and mentions that Pelliot had hinted that it would be insulting to leave food on the plate. According to Pelliot, the meal was luxurious.
     
The antipathy that the men felt toward each other comes out best at a Kirghiz wedding which they attended on August 19th. Both took part in a game known as Baiga, in which men on horseback compete over the carcass of a goat.
      Mannerheim commented sarcastically on Pelliot’s poor horsemanship, and noted that he might have succeeded in the game himself with a good horse under him. The cape that Pelliot donated as a prize is described by Mannerheim as a “modest cloak”. Pelliot, for his part, was angry because Mannerheim would not pay for his share of the gift.
     
So why did the men not get along with each other? One might have imagined that while travelling in remote areas they would have enjoyed each other’s educated company.
      “They came from different worlds. Pelliot was a young and gifted academic, but he was not one for the outdoors. Mannerheim, for his part, was a soldier who was accustomed to discipline. From the very beginning he was annoyed by the inability of the French to get on the move early enough in the morning”, Clements says.
     
Both men looked down on each other. Mannerheim felt that Pelliot was a petty upstart, while Pelliot felt that Mannerheim was sullen and - in contrast with himself - a man of weak language skills.
      In the eyes of Pelliot, Mannerheim was a necessary burden. In order to travel to Central Asia, Pelliot needed a Russian visa, and to get it, he had to take Mannerheim along on the expedition.
     
Money was also an issue. Pelliot had been promised considerable monetary compensation for taking Mannerheim along, but the money did not come with Mannerheim, as Pelliot had expected. Pelliot was irritated that Mannerheim benefited from the equipment that the expedition shared, but did not share in their costs.
      “I believe that as the journey continued, Pelliot started to do things to deliberately annoy Mannerheim”, Clements says.
      “He writes, for instance, about a conversation that he had with a prestigious Kirghiz man, and mentions that Mannerheim withdrew to his tent. Not speaking the language, Mannherheim was forced to be an outsider in these conversations.”
     
When Clements told the relatives of his wife that he was involved in drawing up a biography of Mannerheim, they took a suspicious view of the project.
      “I discussed the matter with my wife’s uncle and insisted that my intentions were good. I said that I understood that Mannerheim is a demigod for Finns. The uncle commented by saying that the ‘demi-’ part might reasonably be dropped off”, Clements says.
      “Younger Finns, for their part, felt that it was strange that I was interested in Mannerheim at all. It came out that they knew only about his role in Finland’s wars, but not about how he taught archery to the 13th Dalai Lama. It would appear that Mannerheim’s early years are not known in Finland very well.”
     
Clements feels that many of the books on Mannerheim that were written by Finns portray him as too perfect, and that the human disappears behind the words of praise.
      “Those books produce a serious-minded portrait of a hero, while overlooking the British-style sarcastic humour that he cultivates in his letters, for instance.”
      Clements himself admires Mannerheim, but he knows that the Finnish Civil War has divided Finnish opinions.
      “Once I started to talk about Mannerheim in a bar with a Finn whom I didn’t know. He tried to convince me that the wounds that were inflicted in the Civil War had not yet healed, and to prove his point he managed to get a fight going with the table next to us.”
     
Clements was amazed at the controversy that arose in connection with the puppet animation film Uralin perhonen (“Butterfly from the Urals”).
      “As an animation, it was done beautifully, and it was entertaining. However, the historical claims that were made in it are deceptive.”
      As a result of the furore, the first question that a Mannerheim biographer is usually asked nowadays is whether or not Mannerheim was possibly a homosexual.
      “Yes, it is frustrating, because the question of his sexuality is in no way the most interesting aspect of his life.”
     
Helsingin Sanomat / First published in print 15.3.2009


Previously in HS International Edition:
  Danish Nordisk Film pulls out of Mannerheim film project (24.2.2009)
  Controversial Mannerheim puppet animation wins prize at Tampere Film Festival (10.3.2008)

Links:
  Carl Gustaf Emil Mannerheim (Wikipedia)

Helsingin Sanomat