China Blues

Why China Won't Listen--The experts weigh in

Perry Link, professor at UC Riverside and professor emeritus at Princeton University and John Kamm, director of the Duihua Foundation, weigh in on Chen Min's commentary Why China Won't Listen with letters to the editor of the New York Times. Mr. Chen advocated taking a quiet approach to human rights in China, arguing that foreign pressure was counter-productive.

Perry Link quotes Mr. Liu Xiaobo, now serving an 11-year prison sentence, who wrote that “I should emphasize that for people like me ... every little bit of good-hearted encouragement that springs from the human nature of people who live in other places ... causes us to feel gratitude and awe.” This mirrors what rights lawyer Gao Zhisheng told me last year when he was briefly freed from police detention. Mr. Gao said that when he and other dissidents were in prison, it was the knowledge that people outside were fighting for them that kept them going during their worst moments.

I'm also thankful for John Kamm for pointing out that China does indeed bow to firm outside pressure on behalf of human rights victims. He writes: "Public pressure has complemented private diplomacy. If China’s leaders decide that it is in their interest to stop the abuse of Chen Guangcheng, the abuse will stop. In China, interest trumps face."

LETTERS

Who Should Speak for Activists in China?

Published: November 23, 2011

Sophie Casson

In “Why China Won’t Listen” (Op-Ed, Nov. 16), Chen Min advises Westerners not to speak out about the house arrest of the Chinese rights advocate Chen Guangcheng. The “face” of China’s rulers is at stake, he observes, and concludes that Americans should be “a bit more considerate” and understand that Chinese leaders prefer to keep criticisms “behind closed doors.”

His advice contrasts sharply with what China’s dissidents themselves have been saying for years.

A decade ago, Liu Xiaobo, China’s imprisoned Nobel Peace laureate, won a prize for promoting democracy from a group in San Francisco. In his acceptance statement, Mr. Liu wrote that “I should emphasize that for people like me ... every little bit of good-hearted encouragement that springs from the human nature of people who live in other places ... causes us to feel gratitude and awe.”

Here Mr. Liu echoes Wei Jingsheng, Xu Wenli, Liu Qing, Wang Dan, Jiang Qisheng, Ai Weiwei and many other veterans of China’s political prisons.

Are we to believe that Chen Guangcheng is different?

Or can we wait for him to speak for himself on what should or should not be kept “behind closed doors”?

PERRY LINK
Riverside, Calif., Nov. 17, 2011

The writer, professor emeritus of East Asian studies at Princeton University, is chancellorial chairman for teaching across disciplines at the University of California, Riverside.

To the Editor:

In May 1990, I intervened on behalf of a Chinese political prisoner at a banquet attended by Chinese officials. I was on my way to Washington to testify on China’s most favored nation status. I was told by experts on China that China’s leaders would never release a prisoner in response to foreign pressure, as doing so would be a loss of face.

But the prisoner was released. China’s leaders were more concerned with losing most favored nation status than they were with losing face.

Since then, Beijing has released hundreds of prisoners in response to calls from legislators and rights groups. It has done so to avoid sanctions, deflect criticism and smooth the way for state visits.

Public pressure has complemented private diplomacy. If China’s leaders decide that it is in their interest to stop the abuse of Chen Guangcheng, the abuse will stop. In China, interest trumps face.

JOHN KAMM
Exec. Director, Dui Hua Foundation
Geneva, Nov. 17, 2011

 

Tibet's burning martyrs

ABC Radio International's Phillip Adams interviews Paul Mooney regarding the recent spate of self-immolations by Tibetan monks, nuns and lay people. Rare footage of a Tibetan nun setting fire to herself can be seen here. Viewer discretion advised.

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They are being called 'the burning martyrs'. It's been reported that at least eleven Tibetan monks, nuns and former monks have set themselves on fire since March in a desperate protest against the persecution of Tibetans under Chinese rule.

But exactly what policies are the Tibetans protesting against? And will human rights agencies and international governments intervene?

Phillip Adams speaks to foreign correspondent Paul Mooney in China to find out exactly why this wave of self-immolations is occurring and what will happen next.

 

Why China won't listen

The New York Times recently ran an op-ed piece by Chen Min，a former editorial writer for Southern Weekend and a former managing editor of China Reform magazine, titled, Why China Won't Listen. The author argues that China's Communist leaders don't like to be confronted regarding their human rights abuses and that public pressure only makes the leadership less cooperative. Chen Min requested Americans to  "... please be a bit more considerate, a bit more flexible, and a bit more tactful about our leaders’ mind-set." The arguments are straight out of the CCP playbook, and one wonders what the editors at the New York Times are thinking when they run articles like this. This is the second silly commentary to be run by the newspaper this month. The previous one was titled To Save Our Economy, Ditch Taiwan and called for the US to sacrifice Taiwan in exchange for China writing off US debt. My rebuttal of the Chen Min argument follows:

I strongly disagree with Chen Min's argument. The author says that Chinese authorities know they’re bad boys, but they don’t want anyone to bring this up because it would undermine their authority. What undermines the CCP is that it doesn’t respect rule of law or basic human rights. It’s not because foreign countries pressures China. The writer has turned the logic upside down. 

Hitler, Pol Pot, Saddam Hussein and Gaddafi, just to give a few examples, didn’t want to look bad either. The American government doesn’t like anyone pointing out abuses in Vietnam, Iraq, or Afghanistan. Does anyone in the world say we shouldn't talk about such excesses? “Well, America is a superpower. Let’s not embarrass Washington." No.

I don't know why people think the CCP is a special case and that we have to walk around like on eggshells in dealing with its disregard of its own Constitution and disrespect for rule of law. The CCP thought such abuses were worth exposing under the KMT, but once it got into power, that was all forgotten. So it was valid to demand the protection of basic rights in the 1930s and 1940s, but not in the 21st Century? 

Chen Min says that if low level officials were “held accountable for strictly following the law in all cases, most would probably lose their jobs, bringing the state apparatus to a halt”? Is local government so bad after 62 years of CCP rule? Doesn’t that indicate a huge failure on the part of the CCP? Also, not only does the central government turn a blind eye to such things; in many cases it’s directly responsible for what happens. 

Is it foreign meddling if a Chinese person is being mistreated, and a foreigner criticizes the CCP? It seems we only hear this argument when it comes to China. I’ve been reporting on human rights abuses in Taiwan and the mainland for more than 25 years. Not one of the victims I've spoken to ever once complained about foreign meddling. 

We’re supposed to be concerned about Hilary Clinton’s statements on behalf of Chen Guangcheng, a blind lawyer who spent three years in jail on trumped-up charges, and who after his release has had police living in his house, occasionally beating him and his wife and for a while preventing their 6-year-old daughter from going to school? We’re supposed to worry that the CCP sees this as an “intolerable slap in the face”? Chen MIn seems to think the CCP is the victim here. 

Of course the CCP feels dialogue belongs behind closed doors. That way they don’t feel embarrassed by their crimes, and they can just ignore foreign concerns. People involved in diplomatic dialogue with China on human rights say the Chinese flaunt closed door efforts. Look at the EU comments on Wikileaks about the EU's deep frustration dealing behind doors with the Chinese officials on human rights. 

Most important, this is not a question of bowing to American pressure. The pressure comes from all countries and people who respect human rights. I’ve spoken to human rights officers from several foreign embassies in China and they are all deeply concerned about the welfare of people who have been the target of state abuses. It’s not America against China, but right against wrong. It’s not that anyone is clueless about the Chinese government’s mindset. It’s that the mindset is intolerable. 

Chen Min says “please be a bit more considerate .... a bit more tactful about our leaders’ mind-set.” Considerate? Tactful? How about outraged? 

While quiet diplomacy was being used in the case of Gao Zhisheng, he was being tortured for more than 50 days. His family was harassed, his wife and 12-year-old daughter were roughed up by police, forcing the family to make a harrowing escape from China. When the foreign media and governments made a fuss after he was missing for a year, they reproduced him. When things quieted down, they disappeared him again. Not a single word about Gao since April of 2010, despite the fact that quiet diplomacy is working for his release. Likewise with Ni Yulan, a female lawyer who was crippled during police torture, and who is heading for her third jail term, despite quiet efforts on her behalf (Darkness at Noon). 

And Chen Min is arguing for consideration and tactfulness?

 

 

Liao Yiwu: Testimony of Torture

Chinese poet Liao Yiwu describes his four years in Chinese prisons.

Testimony of Torture: Chinese Dissident Exposes Prison Brutality

By Susanne Beyer

The old man seemed unflappable as he spoke. Sitting in a wheelchair, his wooden cane always close at hand and his thick, silvery gray shock of hair as neatly parted as ever, he talked about China, presenting himself as someone who knew the place well, having been there 12 or 15 times. "I admire what China has accomplished since Mao Zedong's death in 1976," he said.

But he didn't stop there. He continued on to say that, while it's true China isn't a democracy, the country has nonetheless managed to create an economic boom for itself, with the result that "hardly anyone living in China today could say they aren't doing better now than at any other point in their lives." This is "an enormous accomplishment," he added, and Chinese communism has been "successful." Then he raised his index finger, and, stabbing it in the air, said, in a reference to a famous quote by the Prussian king Frederick the Great: "They have the right to find their salvation in their own way."

This 92-year-old man wasn't just chatting by a fireplace somewhere, nor was he just anyone. The man in question was former German Chancellor Helmut Schmidt, celebrated as the grandfather of the nation. And Schmidt said all this as a guest on Germany's most important talk show, sitting across from Günther Jauch, the country's most respected talk-show host. At his side was the man who has set his sights on becoming the next chancellor, Peer Steinbrück. The talk-show host said nothing at all in response to Schmidt's theories, but quickly changed the subject. Steinbrück, for his part, suggested the theories were "in need of some fleshing out," then praised Western-style democratic rule of law in a roundabout way.

Schmidt got away with his statements without criticism, in front of more than 5 million viewers, and with applause from the studio audience.

An Interesting Conversation Partner

The former chancellor certainly appeared sprightly on that talk show three weeks ago, and considering the fact that he seems to be constantly out and about and meeting people, perhaps he could -- though it's just a suggestion -- spare a little time for someone who might make an interesting conversation partner: the friendly 53-year-old Chinese man who has written the year's most brutal and shocking book, and insists every word in it is true.

The man is Liao Yiwu and the book lays out his recollections from nearly four years spent in Chinese prisons, following his arrest and conviction for writing a poem called "Massacre" in response to the bloody suppression of the 1989 demonstrations at Beijing's Tiananmen Square. His latest book, published in German as "Für ein Lied und hundert Lieder" ("For a Song and a Hundred Songs"), is an eyewitness report from the epicenter of human rights abuse, a volume that overflows with blood, urine and excrement.

"Admiration" for China? "The right to find their salvation in their own way?" Liao Yiwu was astonished when told about the former chancellor's statements. He asked whether Schmidt really uttered those precise words, then shook his head.

On Thursday of last week, Liao had just arrived in Munich after a book tour in the United States, in order to accept the Geschwister Scholl literary prize for his prison memoir on Nov. 14. He found his way, exhausted and shivering in the cold, to a restaurant in Munich's English Garden for this interview, but when he heard Schmidt's words quoted, he was suddenly wide awake.

Anyone who talks that way is afraid of jeopardizing trade with China, he said, but such people bring "bad thoughts into the world." If trade is more important than human rights and dignity, "then the end of the world has arrived." And no one should deceive themselves about the Communist Party, he said. "It has a golden body and two faces. It shows the Chinese people its fierce face, and the West its pleasant one."

Multiple Versions

Liao Yiwu described that fierce side in his book. He was forbidden to publish it in China or abroad, but S. Fischer Verlag, a German publishing house, was interested in releasing it this summer. Another of Liao's books, published in English as "The Corpse Walker: Real Life Stories, China from the Bottom Up," had been well received in Germany two years before. In that book, Liao records his conversations with China's poor and disenfranchised, the toilet cleaners and migrant workers, and those persecuted for their political views.

Liao was forced to write multiple versions of his prison memoir. The first version, hand-written and his only copy of the work, was confiscated by the police. So was the second. For the third version, he was able to write on a computer and save back-up copies. After investing so many years in the work, Liao was determined to see it published in Germany. He fled China for Berlin in early July, and the book was released later the same month.

His escape saved not only the book, but himself as well, Liao said. If he had stayed in China, the book couldn't have been published. And if it had been published, he would have been put on trial. And then it would have started all over again.

'Open Fire'

Liao writes in his book that he was a "romantic" before he went to prison, a successful young poet in China during the 1980s, talented, but naïve and apolitical.

The turning point for him came on June 4, 1989, with the massacre at Tiananmen Square. The words poured out of him, and "Massacre" was the result.

Open fire, open fire, open fire 
Shoot women, students and children 
Shoot workers, teachers and vendors 
Riddle them with bullets 
[…] 
Wipe out the flowers, forest, school campuses, love, and the pure air 
Shoot, shoot and shoot… 
I feel good and I feel high

Liao's taped recording of the poem circulated among dissidents. In 1990, he was arrested and taken to an interrogation prison. "They exposed my head, then my body. The (prisoners appointed as guards) examined the clothing they'd torn from my body, centimeter by centimeter, then piled it up nearby. Only then did they examine my mouth, my armpits and the soles of my feet. I clutched both my empty fists at my sides, then moved instinctively to pull up the pants that weren't there, when their leader ordered me to stick out my bottom -- and, with the utmost care, inserted a bamboo stick into my anus."

"I hadn't been exposed to the gaze of others this way, without a stitch of clothing on my body, since I was a baby. The exhibition lasted about seven minutes, but it was longer than an entire lifetime … God damn it, I hadn't thought the first blow would already bring me to my knees."

Beaten with Batons

He was kept in a cell near the latrines, and from there taken to his interrogations. The guards beat him with electric batons, one time delivering 100 blows in a single interrogation, another time for 20 minutes without pause. They cuffed his hands behind his back, once for 23 days straight. The handcuffs were often too tight, causing his hands to swell and the metal to dig into his skin.

There was a clear hierarchy among the prisoners, about 20 of them were held in "a bit more than 20 square meters" (215 square feet). The higher-ranking prisoners were waited on by the lower-ranking ones. There were the "pleasure servants," feminine young men with pretty faces who sang and danced for the higher-ranking prisoners, slept naked beside them and performed sexual favors. Then there were the torturers, merciless with their defenseless victims.

A so-called "menu" circulated among the prisoners, offering 45 "dishes," each a description of a different method of torture. "Twice-roasted meat, served on a steel plate: First, the victim's naked back is pricked at random with bamboo needles, causing thousands of punctures. These are strewn with salt, then the entire thing taped up in bandages. Once the blood has clotted, the bandages are torn off."

Liao Yiwu left prison a broken man, and China's enemy. In one poem, he describes his "fatherland" as a "country of criminals" and exclaims, "I want to see you in prison. I want you, too, to see how it feels to have your hands bound at your back." He asks whether the country wants "for your people to love you like a prostitute loves her client."

No More Potatoes

Writing gives him dignity. He's no longer afraid. And life is about survival.

He feels lost even during the days in Munich leading up to the acceptance of his award, although he has friends here with him. But how can he feel joyful, given his history? How can he, when a friend he has felt closely connected to for 30 years is in prison? Author and Nobel Peace Prize winner Liu Xiaobo, one of the individuals who signed the Charter 08 human rights manifesto, was sentenced in 2009 to 11 years' imprisonment for "inciting subversion of state power." Liao Yiwu thinks of his friend every day. Is he being tortured with electric batons this very minute?

At the restaurant in Munich, Liao orders a fish stew, but leaves half of it uneaten. "It's the potatoes," says the friend sitting next to him. "There were always potatoes in prison. Now he can't force them down."

Translated from the German by Ella Ornstein

My visit to Chen Guangcheng

The following is an account by novelist Murong Xuecun the attempt by himself and several friends to visit the home of Chen Guangcheng, a barefoot, blind lawyer, who remains under house arrest, and who suffers constant abuses at the hands of the authorities. Like the many others who have tried to visit the Chen family recently, the author and his friends were beaten and forced to leave the area. See also my earlier post of a speech by Murong Xuecun titled Caging a Monster.  Ed Wong of the New York Times recently wrote an excellent profile of Murong Xuecun: Pushing China's Limits on Web, if Not on Paper.

Planning the visit

Popular Chinese novelist Murong Xuecun is one of scores of people who have recently tried to visit Chen Guangcheng, a blind lawyer who fell foul of authorities after highlighting official abuses and is now living under house arrest with his family, guarded by scores of thugs.

 

On the evening of 14 October, I was lecturing at the University of Qingdao Haiyang. During question time, a student asked me, "Will you try to go see Chen Guangcheng?" Taken off guard, I spent the next few minutes mumbling something, without answering whether I was going, or not going. My ambivalence embarrassed me. I'd defended Chen Guangcheng once on Weibo but it was a trivial and superficial expression of solidarity. Right now, he is sitting alone in a dark cell. I'm sitting in a bright room sipping a cup of coffee.

Some people say that Chen Guangcheng's encounter with the government is our own encounter with the government, so to visit him is to visit ourselves, our better selves. But at the time, I couldn't decide whether or not I wanted to go see him. I had my worries. I made my own petty calculations. I didn't want my books to get banned. I didn't want to become a "sensitive topic". I'd been invited to lecture in several countries. Most importantly, I was scared. I'm scared of pain, scared of getting beaten, scared of losing my freedom. Some people might feel that I'm being dramatic. It's just paying someone a visit, right? That's a normal person's normal logic. But in this abnormal world, the spectacle of visiting one's friend is indeed this dramatic. I don't want to make excuses for my weakness. I live in this kind of world and I carry with me the deep knowledge that freedom is precious, even if it's a hopeless kind of freedom, the kind that exists only through cracks. Once I told a story I called "The Prisoner and the Bone". A prisoner on death row is thrown a bone, and is willing to kneel on the ground with that bone until he dies. I was that prisoner, kneeling on the ground and licking that bone. For a little fame, some benefits, a little protection.

A couple hours after the lecture I saw Wang Xiaoshan at Qingdao's Grand Theatre. We started talking about Chen Guangcheng. He said: "We all owe him our moral duty." I agreed, but I still hadn't made up my mind whether or not I was going to go see him. Neither had Xiaoshan. I felt awkward, and was sure he felt the same way.

The next afternoon I had lunch with Xiaoshan, Enchao, Zhongqiang and Miss Nuola. We hit it off right away, and somewhere during our meal, we decided to go to Linyi, to Dongshigu, to visit that tormented yet fearless hero. I was chicken, and needed a lot of encouragement from the others. We objected to Miss Nuola's insistence on coming – she's slight and delicate and physically didn't look up to the trip. But she was unrelenting: "You can go but I can't? If you don't take me, I'll find a way and go alone!" Zhongqiang brought up Liu Shasha, arguing that women shouldn't involve themselves with something this dangerous. Dongshigu is stuck in a time thousands of years away from us: they could easily pull something dirty, punch us in the head, kick us in the nuts, rob us, frisk us! Nuola was unmoved: "I'm not scared! Anyway, I'm going, with or without you guys!" The scene got awkward, and lightheartedly I interjected: "OK, OK! Let's just all go! It's just threat and danger right? What's the big deal? It's not as if they're going to throw rocks at eggs." Nuola's eyes brightened: "Exactly! It's not as if they're going to throw rocks at eggs."

Zuo Yeben got a van for us, and helped us plan our trip. To prevent the unexpected, Wang Xiaoshan and I left our wallets and credit cards with our friend Yang Ruichun. We took our IDs and some cash. We mulled over the prospect of travelling back to a previous age. Inside, each of us tried to give ourselves a pep talk: the worst thing that can happen is that you get a beating. Don't be scared.

The car came an hour later. Zhongqiang said: "We need to prepare ourselves for the possibility of a beating. Expect to get hurt and to be put into detention. Enchao added: "And be prepared for the possibility of getting things shoved up our asses." I joked: "And be prepared to like that feeling. Be prepared to wind up chasing that feeling for the rest of your lives." The things we said were very crass, but funny. We all laughed.

We entered Lingyi at dusk. The city was shining. There were ads everywhere extolling "The Grand Beauty of Lingyi", "The Culture of Lingyi", "Lingyi Lifestyle". A large screen broadcast the words "A Civilised People Create a Civilised City." I thought about Chen Guangcheng, and couldn't help but feel that this city had its own brand of black humour.

We booked three rooms at a hotel in the centre of the city. Nuola slept in one room by herself. Xiaoshan and I stayed together in room 1310; Enchao and Zhongqiang stayed together in room 1317. Out of the four men, Enchao and Zhongqiang have their names blacklisted on the internet. Afraid that someone on the staff might search their names, we decided to use Xiaoshan's and my ID to register (Both of us use pen names. His name is Han Chunsan. My name is Hao Qun.) The middle-aged man registering us would not stop staring at me.

Feeling heavy in the dead of the night, we came to the agreement that no matter what, we would not raise our fists in retaliation. If they beat us, we'd bear the beating. If they beat us too much, we'd run. If we couldn't run, we'd leave it up to fate. Some people accuse us of doing all this for show, but at the time, we really did prepare ourselves, prepared to bleed, prepared to suffer pain. We just wanted to verify what it takes in this country, at this time, to visit an imprisoned "free man". But it was not until the end that we learned the outcome and truly understood the distance spanning between us and Chen Guangcheng. It was exactly like as Enchao said: The longest distance in the world was from the gate of his village to his house.

 

At the gates of Dongshigu

It was the morning of 16 October. Our car ran for 10 minutes and arrived at an old aqueduct, a remnant of Mao's era. We'd driven to Dongshigu's village gate but then turned around after seeing a couple of burly guards at the entrance.

Instead we got off a kilometre away from Dongshigu. Nuola stayed to set up our base. It was eight in the morning. Just as we were leaving a young man, medium height, skinny, ran towards us with a green coat in his hands. He looked like he'd just finished his night shift. Seeing us, he reached for his phone and made a call. We pretended not to see, and walked towards Dongshigu.

Chen Guangcheng with his wife and son in Shandong, 2005. Photograph: AFP

At the gate of Dongshigu is a single road. Flanking the road are two ordinary houses. There were people both inside and outside those houses. I walked towards one of them when a short man wearing a grey-green jacket blocked my way. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Is this place Dongshigu village?" I asked, smiling.

Ignoring my question, he repeated his: "What are you doing?"

"We're here to see a man called Chen Guangcheng. May I ask if he lives here?"

Taken aback by my directness, he paused. Then covertly he leaned in towards me to say, "Well, there have been some robberies recently here in the village. You know, chickens, cows. So I can't let you in."

I chuckled: "Oh we're not here to steal anything. Don't worry. We're just here to see Chen Guangcheng. We'll leave immediately afterwards."

His expression turned stern. A few others came out of the house, among them a middle aged man wearing a black velvet jacket. The man had a mild face but his words were brusque: "It's harvest season. All the men are gone. We're afraid of losing things so you can't come in."

"We're not here to steal!" exclaimed Enchao, "Don't worry!"

Xiaoshan started talking legalities: "Who knows who you guys are? Look, come over here, come, come. I'll introduce you. I'm a writer, called Murong Xuechun. This here is Wang Xiaoshan, newspaper columnist; this is Zhang Enchao, digital web director; this is Hu Zhongqiang…"

Velvet Jacket started to lose his patience. "I don't give a shit who you people are. I said you can't come in didn't I? That means you can't come in!"

The scene turned stiff and airless. I took a wad of cash from my pocket, probably around 2000 RMB. "Afraid we're going to steal from you? Look, I'll just put this money here with you, as collateral."

"Or you can come with us if you don't trust us. When we come out you can inspect us," said Enchao.

Velvet Jacket shook his head vigorously. "Put your money away! I don't want your money! What would I do with your money?"

"How about we give you our IDs. That would give you a piece of mind, right?" said Enchao They stopped talking. None of them spoke. I decided to start walking again. Two steps in, Green Jacket grabbed me. "Stop! Stop ealking!"

After that they gave us another two or three minutes of silent treatment. No matter what we said, no one replied. Zhongqiang took out a pack of Tarzans and went around offering each guard a cigarette. None of the guards responded.

In China, when one confronts trouble, one of the only solutions is to appeal to a political leader. Xiaoshan said: "If you can't make a decision, then call your village chief. We want to talk to him." A few of them started speaking at the same time, in a local dialect. Something sounded off, they sounded… like they were laughing at Xiaoshan. "And you want to talk legalities? Who says the 'chief' any more?" (Incidentally we learned that the "village chiefs" have been rechristened "village directors")

We stood there for almost an hour but still couldn't get into the village. We also didn't want to leave so we lingered around. Meanwhile, there were villagers strolling and biking in and out of the village gate. No one even seemed to notice us. They looked calm. It was clear to us that these villagers had seen situations like ours. Some of them even stopped to talk to Velvet Jacket. They smiled sweetly at him and spoke in ellipses, as if they shared a secret language. These people must have known Chen Guangcheng. They might have even been his student, friends, or relatives. But in this place, at this time, no one cared about what was happening to him. These villagers treated him as if he were a stranger, or an enemy. All these villagers had come together to gang up against one blind man.

According to rumours, Dongshigu has implemented a multi-layer security system. The gate was only the first step, probably the easiest to get past, and yet we'd exhausted ourselves to no avail. As I said, all I wanted to know was what it takes to visit a person, and I'd gotten my answer: as impossible as walking to the sky. I sat down with my legs crossed and put on a loutish pose. With all the hate I could muster towards Velvet Jacket, I said: "You don't let us into the village. Well, I'm going to sit here! If I don't see Chen Guangcheng today, I won't leave!" Inside I thought: "Well, I guess this isn't a bad way to buy time…"

At the time, I had no idea what they were going to do. Very quickly, two buses arrived. The doors opened and what followed was a skirmish to try to get us onto the bus. Two men grabbed Zhongqiang, two men had Enchao, and one man had Wang Xiaoshan. No one paid attention to me. Only after pushing the other three onto the bus, did the guards make a circle around me. Two of them grabbed my left arm. Another two grabbed my right arm. They dragged me violently towards the vehicle. The scene was anarchy. Everyone was yelling something. I was screaming too, "Let go! I'm not leaving!" People were pushing and shoving. I grabbed the bus door and refused to let go. They started shaking the door. The conductor panicked: "Let go! Don't break my car!" I held on. Velvet Jacket blew his top and started punching my arm. Someone yelled "Stop! Stop!" By that point Xiaoshan told me: "Forget it, and just come in," and so finally, I let go. Humiliated, I stepped onto the bus. Before the door closed, I turned to Velvet Jacket. "You wait, I'll be back immediately!" He ignored me. The driver yelled "Close the door! We're going!"

I bought four bus tickets. Because of all that happened, I didn't even notice how much I paid, or where we were going. The driver and the ticket collector had obviously seen this kind of scuffle before. They looked calm. I got their attention and said "We just wanted to go see a friend!" Xiaoshan got up too. "There is a blind man in this village named Chen Guangcheng! Who has heard of him!" One of the patrons replied: "I think I've heard of him. Heard he was in jail." The middle-aged woman next to me muttered "In jail? Sounds like a bad apple!" I had no words. Slowly I felt a pain in my right hand, and discovered that my ring finger was gushing blood. Probably hurt it when we were pulling at the door.

The bus arrived at the aqueduct. I told the driver to stop. He smiled, and said: "There's no use getting off here. Take a look at what's behind us. They've been tailing us the whole time. Even if you could get off, they'd kick you back up here." One of the cars was a black Santana with no license plate. I didn't know what kind of car the other was.

At Qingtuo we got off the bus. Thirty or 40 metres behind us, the Santana cruised slowly. We moved, they moved. We stopped, they stopped. The windows were tinted, but I had a feeling that the man inside the car was taking pictures of us. I wanted to confront them, but Enchao stopped me.

At the end of the road we waved down two buses, but neither stopped for us. The first one actually stopped and asked us where we were going. We said Dongshigu, but the conductor waved us off: "Not going!" He slammed the door with a loud clang, and then proceeded to drive directly in Dongshigu's direction. The second bus didn't even stop for us. It slowed down at first, but drove away quickly when it got a close look at us. Zhongqiang said "I bet you all the buses on this line have been warned, we shouldn't depend on them." The other three answered in unison: "Then we'll walk to Dongshigu!"

The distance from Qingtuo and Dongshigu is about 10 kilometres, not far, but not close. Xiaoshan said Dongshan's scenery wasn't bad, and we could treat it as exercise. We started our journey on foot. This was late autumn of 2011. The sky was blue. The air smelt like dry grass. Leaves were falling.

 

Violence on the road

 

Once I saw a photo of Chen Guangcheng on the internet. Wearing an old suit, he stands in front of his house with his head tilted. He wears a sunny smile, and looks confident. While writing this essay, I searched for this photo more than once. I didn't understand how he could wear such a fresh smile, but slowly, it began to dawn on me. Here is the difference between those who are brave and those who are ordinary. We are all made the same. Like everyone, he is afraid of suffering and he experiences fear. And yet he continues to hope, continues to believe that the world gets better, that these abnormal days will come to an end.

Almost everyone in our generation has read the book Believe in the Future:

 

"When cobwebs clog my stove 
When its dying smoke sigh for poverty 
I will stubbornly dig out the disappointing ash 
And write on snowflakes: Believe in the Future"

 

This poem was written in 1968 during an abnormal time. That year, the historian Jian Bozan and his wife committed suicide. Tian Han, the lyricist of our national anthem, died in prison. That year, ordinary citizens silently endured a life of injustice. But the real heroes were the ones who held onto hope, who still believed in the future, who still had faith that the world would turn back to normal.

I'm not saying this to praise myself. I'm no hero. I'm someone who wants to be at the side of a hero, doing the little that I can.

We'd gone 200 metres in the direction of Dongshigu when another van drove towards us, stopping in front of us. A young man jumped out. He was tall, wore his hair stylishly and wore a black round-neck T-shirt that revealed part of a tattoo on his chest.

There were six men behind him. Some of them were wearing black. Silently they surrounded us. The afore-mentioned young man decided that I was the chief criminal, and ran straight for me, grabbed my neck with one hand, and pressed my arm violently behind my back with his other hand. At the same time the van roared past our bodies. Zhongqiang and Enchao yelled: "What are you doing? If you have something to say, say it!" Our antagonists acted as if they didn't hear a word and shoved us onto the other side of the road.

I was furious, we all were. Crowding in, we yelled: "Where the hell do you get off!"

One of them said: "This is my territory, I do as I want!"

Beside himself, Enchao roared: "This is Qingtuo not Dongshigu! This is your territory?"

"That's right!"

"Who's your leader? Let's sit and talk," I said.

They said nothing.

"Then we won't go to Dongshigu, we'll go to Lingyi. You can't do anything about that," said Xiaoshan.

Xiaoshan started walking, and was grabbed by a guy. "Stop, don't move!"

I started to panic, and pulled out my housekeeping moves. "Get this straight. We are the citizens of the People's Republic of China! Without a trial, no one can take away our freedom!"

I admit that these words weren't appropriate at the time. They were extremely naive. In this country, the law is not a shield, at least not our shield. So I wasn't surprised when the young man knocked down my words: "Law? We're not talking law with you!"

These words effectively enraged everyone. We'd been standing with our backs against each other, but now each man stood his own ground. My deepest impression is that of Enchao. Some guy kept on tearing at him. Enchao looked like a lion experiencing psychosis, his eyes wide, and his long hair loose. He kept howling in anguish at his opponent: "Where do you get off?! Where do you get off?! Where do you get off?!"

A few minutes later another bus came towards us. They tried to shove us onto the vehicle. We struggled against them. I had only one thought: leave. The farther we go the better! One man kept following me, harassing me and twisting my arm. He was very strong. Mixed in with this chaos were the sound of a bus engine, the sound of wrists cracking, and the words: "You lowlifes!"

Afterward I found out that all of us had met our misfortunes. Enchao's new leather jacket had been ripped. Zhongqiang got hit in the stomach twice. Someone had kicked Xiaoshan in the legs. I didn't feel anything at the time, but found bruises on my arms after I returned to Beijing. These wounds don't represent the totality of what our antagonists could have done to us. It wouldn't have been hard to mess me up completely. It wouldn't be hard to kill me. I have to admit that they never tried to hurt us badly. Theirs was a symbolic form of violence.

At one point the young man in the black T-shirt grabbed my neck and shoved me forward. I fell onto the ground.

Lying there I screamed: "You hit people! You hit people!"

The young man replied: "Who's hit you? Who's hit you?"

"You threw me onto the ground. That counts as hitting!"

"Who hit you? You fell!"

I was so livid I couldn't find the right words. "Hah! So you're scared too! What are you scared of? Tell me, what are you scared of?"

"What am I scared of? I'm scared of nothing!" he said, gritting his teeth.

What happened next was a blur. I didn't know whether the bus had been driven to us, or if we'd been taken to the bus. Again we were forced onto the vehicle. Xiaoshan screamed: "I've remembered you! I've remembered your faces!"

Afterwards, Xiaoshan and I discussed what we'd seen. My argument was that they weren't all bad people. Perhaps, they'd fallen for something they shouldn't have fallen for. If they truly believed that Chen Guangcheng was a national traitor, then naturally they would hate him, and by association would hate his supporters. This was normal. Xiaoshan, however, disagreed. "They don't count as good people either. They're doing this for money. 1600RMB every month to do nothing. To beat people. Where do people even find jobs like that?"

In the end we agreed: this was a group of individuals who'd been sedated, who couldn't care less about good or evil, who cared only about their immediate wellbeing. In certain cases, at certain times in history, these were the people who had the capacity to assist monsters. If they had a gun, they would aim it. It didn't matter to them who they aimed at.

Wang Yanan, the former president of Xiamen University and translator of Das Kapital, once said: "There are three types of people in a pre-modern society: liars, fools and mutes." I think he must have overlooked the fourth type: the participant. In an abnormal society, the participant makes up the society. There are lots of them so each of them has only to do very little. None of them needs to own up to their actions. When times change most of them will be able to defend their actions by saying that they were fooled by someone else, that they were victims too. This isn't untrue, but it is because of their willingness to participate that makes them the very creators of evil itself.

 

The return to Beijing

We rode our bus back to Lingyi. A black Buick followed us the whole way. This was probably the world's most patient car. Wherever we went, it went. We pressed the gas, it pressed the gas. We turned around, it turned around. We stopped to drink sodas and eat noodles, and they sat outside waiting for us. I didn't know who owned the car, but I can bet that they were spending taxpayers' money.

We arrived in Xuzhou at three in the afternoon. Every one felt more relaxed after leaving Shandong. Someone called Xiaoshan to ask him where he was born. He said that we'd left Shandong, and didn't mention Xuzhou. If someone had asked me, I would've answered. My thoughts were that we were just going to see a friend. There's nothing more normal than this and there's no need to be dramatic. Later some things happened, proving that Xiaoshan, an old pro, was right to take precautions. It also proved that in an abnormal era, one pays a price for normal behaviour. This is China and I am a Chinese citizen. I have the right to lead a normal life. This is the lowest requirement for life. But at this time, in this place, it has become a dream.

Four days later, the five of us met up in Beijing. Xiaoshan played with his smart phone. Enchao wore a different leather jacket. Zhongqiang played poker. Nuola sat beside us smiling. I'd offended Enchao with another inappropriate joke and spent the rest of that meal apologising to him. We ate, drank two pots of coffee, and said things we didn't need to say. It was as if we'd returned to our ordinary lives, but we were all deeply aware that at that very moment, Chen Guangcheng was still in Dongshigu, still sitting alone in a dark cell. I know that Nuola will never forget. Zhongqiang will never forget. Enchao will never forget. Xiaoshan will never forget. There are others who will never forget. As we sat in that bright and clean room with our drinks, Chen Guangcheng was still in Dongshigu, sitting alone in a dark cell.

If you live in Dongshigu you are very close to Chen Guangcheng. When he fell foul of the government, everyone fell foul of the government. His fate is everyone's fate. A single man captive, the whole of man captive. You don't have to care about Chen Guangcheng, but you do need to know that at the moment his freedom was arbitrarily taken away, your freedom came under threat.

I once read this passage on the internet: "China's road towards development is long and slow. It doesn't promise to be smooth. If there's going to be blood, then please, start with me. If we're doomed to bear loss, then please, start with me. I will bleed, but that means that you cannot let others bleed. I am willing to bleed to death. If I lose, no one else is allowed to lose. I am willing to lose everything."

Chen Guangcheng did not write these words, but it might as well be him who said it. I hope, in a future not too far away, to read this passage to him on a warm spring day. I hope to sit down and have a drink with him. Then finally I would have realized this dream: To live a normal life.

On that night of 15 October at the hotel in Lingyi, I was reading a book called The Blinding Absence of Light by the Moroccan author Tahar Ben Jelloun. The book described a dark cell. In this cell sat a group of prisoners waiting to die. For them, time no longer held meaning. There was one boy, however, named Karim who continued to cherish this thing called time. Sitting quietly in a dark corner, he counted each passing minute. Every day, for three times a day he would announce the time to his fellow prisoners, giving shape to their lives. Though he'd lived in utter darkness, he found light in time. Though physically imprisoned, he'd found freedom.

The second day after I came back to Beijing, someone sent me a message. You are a writer. What was the purpose of what you did?

My answer: For Light, For Time

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/nov/11/chen-guangcheng-china-visit

• This piece originally appeared on Chinahush. It was translated by Cathy Song at ChinaHush

 

Caging a Monster

Caging a Monster, a speech by popular novelist Murong Xuecun, is a must read for anyone interested in China--especially for the growing number of observers who are sympathetic to the Communist Party's policies and who play down--even excuse--it's many shortcomings. Murong Xuecun's article shows that the Party's ruthless determination to hold on to power at any cost is having a huge and deletrious impact on the country and it's people. Ed Wong of the New York Times recently wrote an excellent profile of Murong Xuecun: Pushing China's Limits on Web, if Not on Paper.

把怪物关进笼子里

Caging a Monster

Murong Xuecun
Translated by Jane Weizhen Pan and Martin Merz

我是一个中国作家,在这里向你介绍一下我的国家。正如你们所知,在过去的三 十年里,这个国家建造了无数高楼,修了无数机场,铺平了无数道路,它的GDP位居 全球第二,它制造的商品造销往全世界每一个角落。在伦敦、在纽约、 在东京,到处 可见身穿昂贵西装的中国游客,他们大声谈笑,出手不凡,他们占领了大多数赌场, 疯狂抢购LV皮包。人们惊诧于这样的场面,说中国强大了,中国人有钱了。可我要说 ,在这表面的强大和富足之下,中国还有许多不为人知的细节,而正是这些细节,让 中国变成了一个极为奇怪的国家。

I am a Chinese writer. Allow me to say a few words about my country. Everyone knows that in the past thirty years China has built countless skyscrapers, commissioned countless airports, and paved countless freeways. My country’s GDP is the world’s second largest and her products are sold in every corner of the planet. My compatriots can be seen on tour in London, New York and Tokyo wearing expensive clothes, chattering raucously. My compatriots also fill up casinos and line up to buy LV bags. People exclaim in amazement: China is rising, the Chinese are rich! But behind this facade of power and prosperity there are details of which many people are unaware, and it is precisely these details that make my country a very strange place.

生活在中国,就像坐在一个巨大的戏院里,随时可以看到荒唐的故事、离奇的情 节,超过每一个作家的想象。

Living in China is like watching a play in a giant theatre. The plots are absurd and the scenarios are unbelievable—so absurd, so unbelievable that they are beyond any writer’s imagination.

这个国家有含有三聚氰胺的奶粉、用避孕药喂大的鱼鳖虾蟹、用工业酒精勾兑的 假酒、用大粪熏制的臭豆腐,还有著名的地沟油,这是一种从下水道中提炼出的食用 油,它出现在每个家庭的餐桌上。

My country manufactures powdered milk containing melamine, feeds fish and shrimp contraceptive medications to enhance their growth, uses industrial alcohol in fake wine, preserves beancurd with human excrement, and produces “gutter oil,” the product of a notorious practice in which waste oil from gutters outside restaurants is recycled for human consumption.

这个国家的法律系统是这样运作的:先制定无数法律,然后制定无数精密的程序 ,然后制定无数实施细则,然后制定无数司法解释,最后......由领导决定案子输赢。

在这个国家,有许多事不能起诉,即使起诉了,法院也不会受理,即使受理了, 也会毫无疑问地败诉。

1

In my country, the legal system works like this: countless laws are enacted, and then countless procedures are created, followed by countless enforcement regulations and detailed judicial interpretations, but ultimately it is up to the political leaders to decide who wins and who loses a case.

In my country, many cases cannot be pursued in the courts. Even if legal action is taken, courts can refuse to hear a case. Even if the case is heard in court, the judgement is made well before the hearing starts.

在这个国家,有一些人会无缘无故地消失,有一些人未经审判就失去了自由。还 有一些人冤屈难申,按照法律规定的程序寻求公平,这些人被称作“上访人员”,这个 词在中文里的含义是讨厌鬼、精神病人和恐怖分子。为了对付他们,我们的政府动用 了大量人力物力,有时把他们赶回老家,有时把他们关进监牢,最聪明的是把他们关 进疯人院。

In my country, many innocent people disappear, and some people lose their freedom without ever being sentenced by a court. Some people attempt to have their grievances addressed at a higher level by following procedures prescribed in law. These people are branded “petitioners.” In my country, the word petitioner conveys the sense of a nuisance, a mentally ill person, a terrorist. To deal with these petitioners, the government mobilises a huge amount of resources to herd them home, jail them, and in a particularly creative measure, incarcerate them in insane asylums.

最近有一位上访者引起了广泛关注,他是一位盲人律师,名叫陈光诚,他曾经为 了别人的利益呼喊奔走,而此刻,他正被严密地看管在自己的家中,任何人都不能接 近,许多人,包括我在内曾冒着危险前去探望他,可无一例外,全都被政府雇用的打 手打了出来。

Recently a famous petitioner, a blind lawyer called Chen Guangcheng has attracted a lot of attention. Chen is an advocate for people’s rights and dignity. At this very moment, he is a prisoner in his own home. Many people, including myself, have attempted to visit Chen but all have been chased away by government employed thugs.

这个国家有各种各样的离奇死法,在看守所内,如果有人无故死去,官方会给出 各种富有想象力的解释,说他们因捉迷藏而死,因做梦而死,因发狂而死,还有人仅 仅因为喝了一口水就会死,但是毫无例外,这些死去的人都带着满身的伤痕。

In my country, there are many peculiar ways to die in detention and officials are more creative than a novelist like me in coming up with explanations: died playing hide-and-seek; died while dreaming; died of psychosis; died sipping water. But in all cases the bodies of those who die in custody are covered in bruises and wounds.

在这个国家,每个城市都有拆迁队,他们的标准装备是铲车和棍棒,铲车用来拆 除别人的房子,棍棒用来殴打和驱赶那些不听话的人。为了保卫自己的家园,有人痛 哭,有人下跪,有人把汽油泼在身上点火自焚,但无论他们做什么,都不会影响到拆 迁队的工程进度。许多人因此而死,却从来没有人为他们的死亡负责。

2

In my country, every city has demolition crews equipped with bulldozers and truncheons. The bulldozers are for levelling people’s homes and the truncheons are for bludgeoning stubborn homeowners. To protect their homes, some homeowners beg on their knees, others cry, and some threaten to kill themselves or even actually self immolate. But nothing can stand in the way of the demolition crews and no official is ever brought to account when demolitions result in deaths.

在这个国家,选举是一场奇怪的游戏,最终结果由上级决定,上级需要哪个人当 选,哪个人就一定会当选,很少出现误差。在很多时候,人们需要从两个人中选出两 个人来,还有些时候,这种选举甚至会违背数学原理,要求选民们从两个人中选出三 个人来。每过五年,会有一次全国范围的选举,选上的人被称为人民代表,而事实上 ,他们几乎不能代表人民,只能算政府雇员,也只会帮政府说话。

In my country, elections are a charade—the government decides the results in advance. Their candidates are always elected. Very often people are asked to elect two out of two candidates. Other times, elections even defy basic math—three winners can be elected from two candidates. Every five years there is a national election and the winners are called people’s representatives but the majority of them only represent the government.

他们的典型人物是一位七十多岁的老女士,她当了五十几年代表,从没反对过任 何提案,也从来不曾弃权,她的工作非常简单,只是举手,并因此过上了舒适的生活 。最近情况有所变化,有些人未经政府同意就想参选,但他们几乎全都失败,还有一 些人因此过上了悲惨的生活。

One woman in her seventies, for example, has been a people’s representative for over fifty years and yet she has never tabled a motion, and never once voted against a motion. Her job is simple. All she has to do is raise her hand and she can live a comfortable life for performing this task. In recent years some people have attempted to compete in these elections without receiving government approval. These people almost always lose and often suffer miserably for their actions.

在这个国家,政府开办的救济机构会公开地买卖人口,有智力智碍的病人会被当 成奴隶,在工厂和矿井中过着暗无天日的生活。在这个国家,怀孕的妇女会被强迫堕 胎,一些婴儿会被强迫送进孤儿院,如果他们的父母不能及时凑够钱把他们买回去, 这些孩子很可能会被卖到外地,甚至外国。

In my country, government-run relief organisations engage in human trafficking; intellectually-disabled people slave away in factories and mines; pregnant women are coerced to have abortions and infants are taken by force to be handed over to orphanages. These infants then are sold to other regions and even foreign countries if their parents cannot come up with the cash to buy them back.

在这个国家,报纸和电视的责任不是报道真相,而是为政府做广告。教育的目的 不是传授知识,而是教人愚蠢,教人效忠政府。这种教育和宣传,让许多人都活在未 成年状态,他们有成年人的身体,但在精神上,就像是世事懵懂的孩子,时至今日, 还有许多人在怀念文革,鼓吹个人崇拜,还有一些人认为那场空前绝后的大饥荒纯属

3

子虚乌有,只是某些阴险小人阴险的编造。

In my country, the job of the press and electronic media is to promote the government, not to report the truth. The education system is tasked with instructing the people to be loyal to the government and keeping the people ignorant, not with disseminating knowledge. As a result, many people have never grown up intellectually even though they are adults. Even today, many people in my country still are nostalgic for the catastrophic Cultural Revolution that ended over thirty years ago and still promote the cult of personality. Some people still deny that the unprecedented great famine of the early 1960s ever occurred, and insist that the millions of deaths by starvation is a fabrication.

在这个国家,每一种学问都必须为政治服务,政治需要什么样的历史,学者就会 创作什么样的历史;政治需要有什么样的经济学,学者就会发明什么样的经济学;大 人物可以随意发明真理,这些真理适用于任何一个领域,能够指导这个国家的政治工 作、经济工作、文化工作,甚至能够指导动物交配。

In my country, every academic undertaking must serve the interests of the government. Academics must fabricate history in accordance with the government’s political interests. Economists must develop economic theories to support the government’s political agenda. In my country, leaders invent truths and their pronouncements are applied to every field of human endeavor, be it political, economic, cultural, or even animal husbandry.

这个国家号称消灭了阶级,事实上,一个壁垒森严的阶级社会已经形成,上等人 吃特供食品,下等人只能吃肮脏而有害的食品。第一等级的人就读豪华而昂贵的贵族 学校,第二等级的人就读普通学校,第三等级的人就读简陋的民工学校,第四等级的 人基本没机会读书。

In my country, the government claims to have eradicated classes, but in reality, class divisions are glaringly obvious. The highest class enjoys exclusively produced foods while the lower classes are left to consume contaminated and dangerous products. Children of the dominant class study at opulent private schools, while children of the second-class study at ordinary schools. The third class attend shabby schools for migrant workers and the fourth class, well, they don’t get to go to school at all.

这个国家最喜欢干的事就是买飞机,经常慷慨地对外援助,但在自己的国土上, 乞丐四处流浪,许多人看不起病,许多孩子读不起书,还有许多人正活在可耻的贫穷 之中。

My county takes delight importing the latest jet airplanes and providing aid to foreign countries, despite destitute beggars roaming the land at home, despite many of her people being unable to afford medical care, despite many children being too poor to go to school and despite a huge number of people living in poverty.

这个国家鼓励告密,政府为每个人都建立了一份秘密档案,档案中记录了从生到 死的每一个变化、别人的评价以及许多当事人自己都不知道的事。在工厂、在学校、 在街头,密探们正秘密地观察每个人的言行。这里的空气压抑而紧张,民众不相信政

4

府,员工不相信老板,学生不相信老师,妻子不相信丈夫。

In my country, informing on others is encouraged. The government has a secret dossier on every single citizen which records everything about us until the day we die—from innocent remarks about us to unsubstantiated accusations as well as many things we don’t even know about ourselves. Secret agents in factories, schools and residential neighbourhoods covertly record everything people say and do. The atmosphere is oppressive—people do not trust the government, employees do not trust employers, students don’t trust teachers, and wives do not trust husbands.

这个国家有一种奇怪的制度,总是让说谎者得到奖赏,久而久之,每个人都对谎 言习以为常,每个人都主动说谎,说谎甚至成了一种美德。

In my country, there is a strange system that rewards liars, and with the passage of time, people have become accustomed to lying. People lie as naturally as they breathe, to the point that lying has become a virtue.

在这个国家,写作成了一种危险的事业-有人因为写文章而入狱,有人因为说了 某句真话而入狱。作家不能评述历史,不能批判现实,更不能幻想未来。许多字不能 写,许多话不能说,许多事件不能提及,每一本书的出版都要经过严格的政治审查, 许多书被查禁,然后它们就会成为国外的畅销书。

In my country, writing is a dangerous occupation. People are sent to prison for writing essays, or saying a few words of truth. Writers are not allowed to talk about history, or to criticise the present, let alone fantasise about the future. Many words cannot be written, many things cannot be spoken, and many issues cannot be mentioned. Every book has to go through a rigid censorship regime before it can be published. Many books are banned in my country, and then become bestsellers overseas.

这个国家可以把卫星送入太空,却造不好一座桥。这个国家可以把政府大楼造成 金碧辉煌的宫殿,却让孩子们坐在摇摇欲倒的危房之中。这个国家有无数豪华的行政 座驾,却没有一辆坚固的校车。就在两天之前,在中国甘肃,一辆只有坐9个人的校车 塞进了64个孩子,然后很不幸地遇到了车祸,19 个孩子因此而死。这些孩子大多来自 最贫穷的家庭,他们还没有吃过一次麦当劳和肯德基,还没有去过一次动物园,他们 的人生还没有开始,却已经过早地结束了。

My country is capable of launching a satellite into space but not of building a safe bridge across a river. My country is capable of building palatial government offices yet condemns children to substandard schoolhouses. My country provides millions of luxury cars to government official yet few safe school buses for children. Only two days ago in Gansu province in China’s northwest, 64 children were crammed into a nine-seat school bus. Then there was an accident and nineteen of them died. Most of these children came from poor families. They had never been to a Mcdonald’s, a KFC, or a zoo. Their lives ended tragically before they even started.

5

这个国家最近几年举办了多次盛会,为此建造了大量美仑美奂的场馆,然而每 次开幕之前,都会有许多“危险分子”眼含热泪离开自己的家,官方发言人说:他们自 愿离开,没有人强迫他们。

In my country, extravagant structures have been built one after another to host one extravagant event after another. However, many citizens considered “dangerous elements” are forced to leave their own homes in tears whenever such an event is held. Yet, government officials insist that these people leave their homes voluntarily.

这个国家有全世界是庞大的官僚队伍,他们中的绝大多数都在贪污或受贿,每 一种权力都被污染,成为致富的法宝或伤人的利器。根据公开的报道,每年有大量的 财富用于这些官僚的吃喝、旅游和公车消费(每年九千亿人民币)。或许有人会问: 纳税人为什么不反对?抱歉,在这个国家,没有纳税人这个词,有的只是“人民”。

My country has one of the largest bureaucracies in the world. Most of these bureaucrats are either bribing or taking bribes. Power is being abused in every way imaginable and turned into a money-generating tool. According to publicly available reports, enormous amounts of public funds are wasted on sumptuous banquets, luxury trips and expensive cars provided to these bureaucrats. We are talking about 900 billion yuan or over US$140 billion a year. Some may ask: Why don’t the taxpayers say no to this practice? I’m sorry, the concept of taxpayers’ rights doesn’t exist in my country. All we have is the term “the people.”

有人会说,这些事不足为奇,任何一个国家都会有,任何一个国家都曾经有过。 我承认,但还是要说,如果腐败可以分度数,那么 5 度腐败和 100 度腐败的差别不仅 是个数字,前者还可以算是瑕疵,而后者已经成了灾难。我还要说,不能因为别的国 家有腐败,就认为中国人应该忍受这种腐败。

Some may say, well, this is nothing to get excited about, because corruption exists in every country, at any time. I agree. But still, I want to say that if there were degrees to measure the rampancy of corruption, then the difference between five degrees and a hundred degrees is not merely a difference in readings—the former shows minor defects, but my country’s rampant corruption means disaster. I also want to add: It’s wrong to suggest my compatriots should put up with corruption simply because corruption exists elsewhere.

难道因为中国人的素质太低,所以不配享有更美好的生活吗?请你相信,说这话 的人,他自己的素质就很低;难道因为中国的独特国情,所以不能给民众以太多自由 吗?请你相信,说这话的人,他自己就是国情;难道中国最需要的真的不是自由,也 不是人权,而是稳定吗?在这里,我请你相信,说这话的人,他自己就是不稳定的因 素。

Chinese people don't deserve a better life because “the quality of the Chinese people” is low. Believe me, people who say this are themselves of low quality. The Chinese people should not be given too much freedom due to China’s “unique situation.” Believe me, people who say this are themselves perpetuating China’s “unique situation”. Stability is what China needs the most, not freedom, not human rights. Believe me, people who say this are themselves contributing to instability.

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2009 年底,我混进了一个传销团伙,在其中生活了一段时间之后,我发现传销团 伙几乎就是中国社会的缩影,一位中国学者曾经对此做过精准的论述,他把这种社会 称为“前现代社会”,主要有三种人构成:骗子、傻子和哑巴。不过令人高兴的是,中 国已经进步了,情况发生了深刻的变化,那就是:骗子越来越多,傻子和哑巴都快不 够用了。

At the end of 2009 I infiltrated a gang of pyramid scammers. After spending some time living with them, I realised that the world of pyramid selling is Chinese society in miniature. A Chinese scholar once defined this kind of society as being in a “primitive state,” a society that is comprised of three kinds of people: liars, the deaf and the mutes. The good news is that Chinese society is moving forward —now there are more and more liars and we’re running out of the deaf and the mute.

英国学者亨利·梅因先生曾把从身份到契约的转变视为现代文明社会的标志。按 这个标准,中国还有很长的路要走。

The English scholar Henry Maine refers to the transition from individuals bound by social status or belonging to traditional social castes, to a modern world where people are independent entities free to make contracts on their own, as the progression of "from status to contract." If this progression is the benchmark for entering a modern civilised society, then China is still a nation in a primitive state.

就在二十多年前,中国还是一个完全的身份主导型社会,在那个社会中,一个 人能做什么,能做出什么成绩,不是取决于他本人的能力和素质,而是取决于他爸爸 是谁。如果某人是个王八蛋,他的儿子也必是个王八蛋,很多年后,他的孙子依然是 个王八蛋。

My country was entirely a status-oriented society just over twenty years ago. What a person could do depended not on that person’s intelligence and competency. Rather, it depended on who that person’s father was. During the Cultural Revolution, if someone was deemed a “son of a bitch,” then his son would be deemed a “son of a bitch,” and many years later his grandson would also be deemed a “son of a bitch.”

在二十多年之后,情况有了什么变化?我要说,有所进步,可是进步不大。

Twenty years on, is there any progress? Yes, there is, but not much.

在这个国家,政府官员的儿子、孙子依然做官,民工二代、民工三代依然是民工 。 到今天,中国社会已经成了一个以身份为主导的板结型社会,每一种权力、每一门 生意、每一项资源都被彻底垄断,平民子弟几乎没有希望,他绝对没机会能成为奥巴 马或乔布斯。

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In my country, the sons and grandsons of officials are still officials while second and third generation migrant workers are still migrant workers. All power, all business and all resources are monopolised. There is almost no hope for the sons of ordinary citizens to move up. There is no possibility of them ever becoming an Obama or a Steve Jobs.

在这个国家,人们即使只想过正常的生活也无比艰难。最近的几年,中国市民阶 层的生活正日益艰难,沉重的税负、昂贵的房价,日益上涨的物价和微薄的工资。在 这个国家,开出租车可就在几个月之前,有位司机亲口告诉我:他已经有几个月没吃 过肉了。当我们经过一片豪华住宅区,他这样感慨:这里的大楼越建越多,为什么我 的日子却一天比一天艰难?

In my country, just striving for a normal life is difficult. In fact, in recent years life has become much harder for the urban population due to the heavy tax burden, exorbitant housing prices, high inflation and low wages. Driving a taxi previously provided a good income, but a taxi driver recently told me he had not eaten meat for several months. He sighed as we passed a luxury residential estate. “More and more skyscrapers are going up,” the driver said. “But why is my life getting harder and harder?”

中国已经成了奢侈品消费大国,但更令人高兴的是,在这个国家,连死亡本身都 已经成了昂贵的奢侈品。有一首歌谣极为生动地描述了人们的忧虑:“生不起,剖腹一 刀五千几;读不起,选个学校三万起;住不起,一万多元一平米;娶不起,没房没车 谁跟你;病不起,药费让人脱层皮;死不起,火化下葬一万几。”

My country has become the world’s largest consumer of luxury goods. And now, even living and dying in my country have become a luxury. A popular song encapsulates people’s anxieties:

Can’t afford to have children—caesarians cost five thousand and more Can’t afford to go to school—a good school costs at least thirty K Can’t afford an apartment—more than ten thousand for a meter of floor Can’t afford to get married—no house, no car, no wedding, she’ll say Can’t afford to get sick—medicine costs an arm and a leg

Can’t afford to die—cremation costs are through the sky

一个以身份为主导的社会,必然是一个缺乏创造力的社会,所以我们看到,无论 在工业、农业、商业还是在文化艺术领域,中国人都绝少创新,有的只是抄袭和模仿 。我相信,如果不改革这糟糕的制度,在未来的几十年间,中国仍将是一个缺乏创新 与发明的国度,它或许会有很多钱,但一定不会有太多文化;或许会有强大的武力, 但一定不会让它的国民感觉平安。

Creativity never flourishes in a status-driven society. That’s why in every field of endeavor—industry, agriculture, commerce and culture—my country contributes few innovations and new ideas, but excels at counterfeits and imitations. I believe that without reforming this rotten system, China will continue to be a nation that contributes few innovations and new ideas to mankind. It may have a lot of money but there won’t be much

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culture left. It may become a mighty military power but it will still be incapable of making its people feel secure.

谈到中国的种种问题,人们有各种各样的解释,恋权者说那是因为中国人的素质 太低,保守者说那是因为伦理道德的缺失,某些宗教人士说那是因为中国人没有信 仰。

People in China have come up with a multitude of explanations for my country’s numerous problems. Those who want to hold onto power say China has problems because the Chinese are just a “low quality people.” Therefore, they have to be controlled and managed. Conservatives say China’s current problems result from the Chinese people abandoning traditional moral values. Some religious groups say China’s problems result from the Chinese not having any faith, and consequently commit evil because they do not fear the wrath of god.

但在我看来,这一切都是因为我们有一个糟糕的制度,在这种制度之下,权力不 受约束,只能渐趋腐败;法律形同虚设,它是权贵的利器,更是平民的枷锁;在这种 制度之下, 警察和军队最大的作用是维护统治,只会让人们感觉更加恐惧,而不是更 加安全;在这种制度之下,没人对历史负责,所以也就没人对现在负责,更不会有人 对未来负责。

In my view, everything stems from the rotten system. A system with no restraints on power can only lead to corruption; a system in which the law exists in name only turns the law into a deadly weapon high officials use to oppress the citizenry. In this system, the primary purpose of the police and the military is to maintain the political rulers in power and inspire terror, not for making people feel secure. In this system, no one takes responsibility for the past, present and future.

在这种制度之下,人们只关心眼前的利益。在这种制度之下,不守规矩成了最大 的规矩,不择手段成了最好的手段,在官场,在商场,大多数竞争其实都是底线的竞 争,总是让卑鄙的人胜出;在这种制度之下,人人都在犯罪,却没人需要忏悔;在这 种制度之下,每个人都会感觉屈辱,不管身边有多少“和谐社会”的广告,大多数人想 的都是同一件事:离开这里,到平安的地方去。

In this system, people only care about short-term profits. In this system, not following the rules is the rule, and unscrupulous means are the only means in government and business so only the dirtiest players emerge victorious. In this system, everyone is a criminal so no one needs to repent. In this system, humiliation is felt by everyone, so no matter how much a “harmonious society” is promoted, the majority of people dream of escaping to a safe place.

这糟糕的制度,斯大林—毛泽东主义和中国王朝政治的不伦之子,丛林法则、儒 家权谋和共产主义的混血产品,经过几十年的发育,已经成长为一个又大又丑的怪物 ,它虚荣、蛮横、自视甚高、从来不会认错,它打倒一个人是因为正义,给这个人平 反,还是因为正义。一切好事都是它领导的,一切坏事都是因为背叛了它的领导。它 主宰一切,只允许一种信仰,那就是信仰它;只允许一种感谢,那就是感谢它;它拥

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有每一份报纸、每一所学校、每一座寺庙,没有它的允许,连花朵都不能随便开放。

This rotten system is the mongrel of Stalinist-Maoism and Imperial Chinese political culture, a cross-breed of the rule of the jungle with traditional Chinese trickery and communism. Decades later, this creature now has become a monster. This monster is vain, tyrannical and arrogant. It never admits to mistakes. It destroys people in the name of justice and rehabilitates them, also in the name of justice. It takes credit for everything positive, and blames others for all failures. It wants to lord over everything and only tolerates one faith, faith in itself. This monster only allows praise to one thing, praise to itself. It owns every newspaper, every school, and every temple. Without its permission, even flowers may not bloom.

这个怪物既强壮又脆弱,既身患重病,却有着强大的杀伤力;既异常笨拙,又有 着无比敏感的神经,一点风吹草动就能让它神经紧张,一件微不足道的小事就能让它 怒火中烧。这糟糕的制度,就像一个越来越大的毒瘤,毒害着每一滴血液、每一根神 经,并将最终把整个国家拖入可怕的灾难之中。

This monster may be frail, but it is still resilient. It is terminally ill, yet it still possesses lethal power. It is dumb yet is also extremely sensitive—the slightest breeze can set off anxiety attacks, trivial matters can ignite a towering rage. This rotten system is like a festering tumor that is poisoning every drop of blood and every nerve cell of my country, and will ultimately drag the entire nation towards catastrophe.

几千年的战争和杀戮之后,人类终于明白了一个道理:权力如同猛兽,随时可能 暴起伤人。因此,必须把它关到笼子里。但在中国,大多数人总盼望迷信明君贤相式 的统治,总希望有一只不那么残暴的猛兽来统治他们。我觉得这是不可能实现的愿望 ,因为猛兽的野性尚存,随时准备择人而噬。

Wars and man-made catastrophes over thousands of years have taught people one thing: Power is a monster that kills. Therefore, it must be caged. But rather than striving for a better system, many Chinese people are still dreaming of a wise and kind-hearted ruler—a not-so-vicious monster. I believe this dream will remain a dream because a monster will attack as long as it is not caged—it is the nature of the beast.

当权力的野兽在身边咆哮,人们会变得格外谨慎,只要日子还能过得下去,他们 就绝不会多说一句话。他们漠视自己的权利,也漠视别人的权利,邻居的房子被拆, 他们若无其事地看着,等到他们自己的房子被拆,邻居们也在旁边若无其事地看着。

When this powerful monster roars, people become timid. They are content to be mute as long as they can survive. They neglect their own rights, and the rights of others. They stand by idly when their neighbour’s home is bulldozed. When their own homes are bulldozed, other people stand by idly.

一个月前,我在一次演讲中谈到中国人的责任。我说,作为现代公民,我们应该 知道,这国家有你的一份,它好,有你的一份,它不好,也有你的一份,我们不能假 装自己可以避开了这些问题。人类社会是一个整体,没人可以置身事外。一人不自由

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,则人人不自由。一人不安全,则人人不安全。有人说,中国是一个没有底线的国家 ,这话不对,这国家并非没有低线,它以你我为低线。这糟糕的制度能够运行,是因 为我们都曾经为之出过力,我们就是制度。如果它越来越好,是因为我们都曾为之努 力,如果它越来越坏,也是因为我们的努力。

In a speech I delivered a month ago I spoke about the responsibilities of the Chinese people. I said: As citizens of our country, we must know that every one of us is an owner of our country. We are responsible for both its goodness and its flaws. We must not pretend we have nothing to do with China’s problems. We all live on the same planet and no one can stand by idly. When one person’s freedom is deprived, no one is free; when one person’s safety is jeopardised, no one is safe. Some people say China is a nation that behaves as if it doesn’t have a bottom line. I disagree. I believe there is a bottom line—we are the bottom line. This rotten system persists because we all have contributed to it, in one way or another— we are the system. If the system improves, that’s because we have worked on it. If the system gets worse, that’s also because we have contributed.

要想这个国家变好,首先要做的是让自己变好。一个美好的国家不是一群奴隶 能够建成的,她需要许多聪明而有担当的人,这就是“公民”二字的含义。他们不仅爱 自己,还爱国家;不仅关心自己的权利,也关心别人的权利;不仅捍卫自己的自由, 也捍卫别人的自由。不仅捍卫自己的房子,也勇于捍卫邻居的房子。他们在大众沉默 之时敢于发出声音,他们在大众踟蹰之时敢于迈出脚步。把自己变好是一场光荣而艰 难的事业,注定要经历挫折和磨难,但我们看到,有越来越多的中国人开始明白自己 的责任,他们从沉默中走出,诚实地说话,温和地建言,有些人因此而遭受不幸,但 他们还在坚持,坚持在黑暗中发出孤独的声音。

To make this country a better country, we first must make ourselves better. A group of slaves can never build a great nation, but modern citizens can—citizens who are intelligent and responsible. They not only love themselves, but also their country. They not only care about their own rights but also the rights of others; they not only defend their own freedom, but also the freedom of others; they not only defend their houses, but also their neighbour’s houses. They will never evade their responsibilities and will speak out when everyone else is silenced; they will never stop advancing when everyone else halts in hesitation. To make ourselves better is an honourable process and we are bound to encounter setbacks and hardship. Despite hardship, more and more Chinese people now are aware of their responsibilities. They break the silence, speak the truth, and calmly make suggestions. Some are suffering for their actions but refuse to be cowered or silenced.

两千多年前,孔夫子说过一句话:邦有道则仕,邦无道则隐。但作为一个现代公 民,我们更应该这么说:邦无道,我们应该批评它,监督它,使之有道。邦有道,我 们应该批评它,监督它,使之更加有道。这是我的理想,也是我的事业,我将终生为 之努力。

Over two thousand years ago, Confucius said one should only serve the state if it is righteous, otherwise one should eschew serving the state. However, to become citizens of a modern society, I say we should criticize the government if it does not do the right thing, and we should also keep an eye on the government even if it is already doing the right thing. This is my belief and this is what will I do for the rest of my life.

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最后我要说,我不是阶级敌人,不是颠覆分子,我只是想把怪物关进笼子里。 没错,我是在批评自己的国家,但这并不表示我恨这个国家,相反,我爱我的祖国, 我爱她壮丽的山河、辉煌的文明,也爱她的苦难,并将因为这苦难而加倍爱它。没错 ,我是在批评这糟糕的制度,但在这个制度变好的过程中我绝不希望看到流血,我只 希望可以使这制度温柔地变好。我有一个梦想,希望在不久的将来,花朵能在我的祖 国自由绽放,中国的孩子可以尽情欢笑,中国,这古老的国家,苦难钟爱之地,能够 变成富足、和平而自由的国家。

Finally, I hope you believe me that I am not a class enemy, nor an over-thrower of governments. All I want is to cage the monster. Yes, I am criticizing my country, but that doesn’t mean I hate my country. Rather, I love my country. I love her splendid mountains and rivers and her great civilization. I appreciate the suffering she has experienced. In fact, I love my country even more because of the suffering she has been through. Yes, I am criticizing her rotten system, but I do not want to see bloodshed while my country is improving herself. I hope the system will improve gracefully. I hope in the near future, in my country, flowers of freedom will blossom and children will smile without fear. I hope in the near future, my country, an ancient civilization, a land of suffering, will become a nation of prosperity, peace and freedom, for all.

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