Zi Zhongjun: "Officialdom Corruption Is not to be Feared, Society Corruption Is"

Note: Zi Zhongjun (1936-) is a well-known scholar and translator in China, in the fields of international politics and US study. The following is her speech during the so-called "consensus symposium" held in Beijing on November 26. -- Xujun

[in translation]

I didn't plan to speak, because I'd rather not say anything.  The words in the first paragraph of this document, that "The 18^th Congress …is heartening," is contrary to my own feelings.  I'm not the least bit excited, but feel dispirited, without hope. That speech is full of clichés and set phrases, while the few noteworthy lines are backward-facing.

This morning many insightful people have expressed intelligent and incisive views; I admire that, and their passion is touching. Those opinions have been expressed many times by many people. My first question is:  To whom are we speaking?  Who makes up our imaginary audience?  It seems our eyes are still looking upward, hoping the rulers will adopt [our suggestions], but is that even possible? I recall a small article I wrote, "The Nation's Rise and Fall, Not Everyone's Responsibility." That was to interpret Gu Yanwu's words. His famous saying was, "The world's rise and fall, everyone’s responsibility." But then he also said, "The nation's rise and fall, meat-eaters decide," which means it is not everyone’s responsibility. At the time the Ming Dynasty was dead, and he said you rulers destroyed it, we had no responsibility, our responsibility is to maintain orthodoxy – or national spirit in modern terms.   Why from time immemorial are "meat eaters despicable, lacking foresight"? Because avarice blinds the eye of judgment. It is vested interests that impede good decisions. So the problem is not how to convince them to change. 

I'm thinking, we are talking about such obvious problems; if we can all see them, do the rulers really not? They are not mentally retarded. They must have deeper experience than us on social crises; otherwise why would they mobilize 1.4 million to protect a meeting of thousands [i.e., the 18^th Party congress]?  Why so much fear and guilty conscience?  Now there's no point in analyzing how each line is written. Language is unprecedentedly disjoined from reality, unprecedentedly hypocritical. What is "socialism with Chinese characteristics"? There are Chinese characteristics, but there is no socialism! Now there's still talk of "our" socialism and "their" capitalism, it is very ridiculous. The fact is that China's crony capitalism has combined with transnational capital, and they are linked by common interests.  The victim is China's laborers and laborers of the other countries.

Someone just said, "To reform is to court death; to not reform is to wait for death." This is a widely spread line. But one thing must be made clear: Whose death is it? If reformed, would the entire Chinese nation die? I think the hope of the nation's revival is on reform; otherwise, though not necessarily "dying," it will fall, sink. People hate corruption, but officialdom corruption is present at all times and in all countries. That's not to be feared. What is to be feared is the corruption of society as a whole. Right now our entire society is corrupt. During the KMT era, officialdom was corrupt, but the rest of society –  academia, the arts, journalism and business enterprises – were not all corrupt, so when the regime was overthrown, society still had hope. Now, all walks of life are corrupt, and people are inured to corruption.  Even a child knows that parents should give teachers gifts to get better treatment for her. The children who grow up this way would not think anything wrong with it. Those of us here who are above 40 years of age know it was not like this when we were in school; then there existed the concepts of fairness and justice. If things continue as now, I'm afraid the next generation simply will not care at all about fairness and justice, but consent to the rules of corruption and care only how to better play the game. This is the entire nation spiritually rotten! Mr. Sun Liping's argument on "societal breakdown" was very enlightening for me. So I'm particularly worried about education issues! This speech [about the 18^th Party congress] has no mention of education issues. We need to have our eyes looking downward, focusing on the enlightenment of the people. The people's quality and the leadership's quality interact as both cause and effect. The consciousness of the people is the most important. I was saddened by the vandalism and atrocities in the name of "patriotism" that happened a while ago [during anti-Japanese protests]. A hundred years with no progress; above is still Empress Dowager Cixi, below is still the Boxers. I do not mean to compare any leader with Cixi, but that action [i.e. the anti-Japanese protests over island disputes] began with the connivance and acquiescence of, or perhaps was intentionally orchestrated by, the government, in order to transfer internal conflicts to a foreign enemy. This is the modus operandi. Later when it got out of control, then suppress, in the end still having to compromise with the foreign country. In short, we need a different way of thinking, changing the angle – is our responsibility to the whole nation, or the dynasty?

Speaking of reform's entry point, the most important thing is to establish the rule of law. With a sound legal system in place, the government should try to control other things as little as possible, then society naturally will have vitality and self-control. I agree with someone else who just said that the practice of "double designations" within the Party is a violation of the rule of law, violation of human rights.  It feels a bit like a gang cleaning its own house, not the modern country's rule of law. Who is monitoring the Party's Commission for Discipline Inspection? Without the supervision of public opinion, without transparency, without checks and balances of power, corruption is impossible to treat. There is also the need to clarify a concept, that is, the United States implementing world hegemony must not become the reason for us to oppose constitutional democracy. To take the road of constitutional democracy is to join the common progress trend of mankind. Human rights are equal rights everyone should have, regardless East or West. Equality is a modern society's concept; in feudal times, people had to live with stratified society. In modern society this is not acceptable, as equal rights are required. To use the hegemonic behavior of the US or the pirate past of Britain as the reason to deny human rights, liberty, and equality, is to confuse concepts. It's as if someone eats well, becomes strong, and beats others up or even murders them. Should we then refuse to eat? Those are two different things. The direction of constitutional democracy is our own interest, and has nothing to do with foreign countries.

[中文原文] 资中筠：2012年11月26日在“共识”座谈会上的发言 

Politics on Chongqing's Streets

I'm in Chongqing again. It rains every morning, and stops in the afternoon. The roads and ground stay wet.  I take my parents, who are in their mid-80s with deteriorating health, to walk after the rain, and work on my memoir in the evening.

Yesterday was Saturday and I went with my sister to Jiangbei's "Pedestrian Boulevard" in the afternoon. A friend who had visited Chongqing in the summer told me that she saw men gathered there debating current affairs. Apparently it is a lasting phenomenon, as I’d heard the same thing from someone else during this visit. I was curious.

Jiangbei Pedestrian Boulevard, October 13, 2012

The "Pedestrian Boulevard" was so crowded, "not even a drop of water could trickle through" (水泄不通), to quote a Chinese cliché. Eventually, in front of the New Century apartment store, I found several circles of men.  In each circle, one man stood in the center speaking loudly and excitedly, and others surrounding him listening attentively, chirping in now and then.

They were all men, most looking to be of retirement age. No women in the talkers' circles, though I saw a couple sitting under a tree nearby, not paying attention. My appearance thus caused a small disturbance. A few men approached me, and I asked them what they were talking about. I'm not sure what they thought I was – a journalist perhaps? – but they immediately started to voice their opinions, nearly shouting: "We want a multi-party system!" "We want democracy!"

"Don't you worry about the police?"  I said.

"Why, as long as we are not overshooting the mark," one said.

"You think asking for democracy is excessive?  Your thoughts are so backward!" another man sneered.

"Did you dare to talk like this when Bo Xilai was in power?"

A pause. Then an old man said, "We still did, just a lot less." 

"I heard that many Chongqing residents supported Bo Xilai?" I said.

"Those are just housewives!  We men care about current affairs and know better!  Women have long hair, short sight!" The first man said.

I touched my shoulder-length hair and smiled, "Is my hair long?"

The man replied, "I'm not talking about you!"

I squeezed into a circle and listened a bit. The speaker was saying that one crime of Bo Xilai's has yet to be exposed: selling human organs. "One organ can sell for millions of dollars in America," he said. His audience smacked their lips.

It appeared to me that the listeners were thirsty for information, and the speakers were satisfying them with hearsay.

My sister stood behind the audience of another circle.  She told me later that the speaker was talking about grave problems with China's medical system.

It's comic that, during the National Day holidays in early October, Beijing's central television aired a program titled "Are You Happy?" Its reporters travelled all over the country to ask citizens the question, and on the screen everyone said yes. Not a single person said no. The program got lots of boos on the internet.  It's just hard to believe that CCTV, or whoever was behind the program, would be so dim.  "It's like asking for a slap on its face," one netizen commented.

So, arguably, a case can be made that information from any source is no more flawed than what comes from the official media.

My friend He Shu, a Chongqing historian, tells me that spontaneous gatherings like the one I saw have appeared in several areas of Chongqing.  On Yangjiaping's Pedestrian Boulevard, he says, there are some regular speakers making intelligent remarks on current affairs and have attracted quite some audience. Again, most of the men are retired, and aging seems to instill a more urgent need in them to see a change in their country while there's still time.

Foreigners in China: Now and Then

If you are like me, you are baffled by the idiotic mindset of those Chinese bureaucrats. Apparently, Melissa Chan was expelled because the "relevant" authorities were unhappy about some reports criticizing China that involved her (or not). I'm sure the authorities' desired effect was "killing one to admonish a hundred" (杀一儆百) — but guess what?  It is only natural that such a move greatly increases the awareness and impact of those previously less-known reports.  How clever is that? 

The disturbing thing is, from my contacts with Chinese bureaucrats, they really do believe what they are doing is both good and smart. There is a great gap between reality and their view of it.  Unfortunately, as far as I can tell China's officialdom is dominated by such. Their way of thinking is at least two decades behind the times. I doubt China can have effective political reform before this generation of officials withdraw from the stage.

And be sure to read this hilarious (no kidding) report: Chinese Official Questioned About Al Jazeera Reporter's Expulsion, count how many times the word "relevant" is used, and get a kick out of it.  I'm sure the speaker really believes his answers were very smart.

On a related note, Foreign Policy's Isaac Stone Fish has an interesting post that analyzes the possible connection between race and China's expulsion of Melissa Chan.  To further Fish's point, race has almost always been a factor, if sometimes demonstrated in different ways, in Chinese attitudes toward foreigners.  This again is a generational thing that’s waiting for change.

Following the Melissa Chan incident, NYT's Edward Wong dug up – and Tweeted about –  an old tale of another American journalist, John Burns, who was expelled from China in 1986 because of his exploration of the kingdom’s backwaters.  Burns' story recalls intimately the experience of my husband during that same period. In the summer of 1987, Bob rode his bike across China coming to see me in Chongqing, and enroute he and his bike were both arrested. I wrote about the episode here:    

The American Bicyclist at Large and His Adventure in China

That was 25 years ago.  China may have made great advances in economics and technology, and seen a substantial increase in its openness, but surprisingly little has changed in the depth of official thinking.

Wang Lijun, Bo Xilai, and the US Consulate: What Happened

I just left China today.  By now the whole world knows that Wang Lijun, Chongqing's deputy mayor (and police chief until February 2^nd), is in trouble; so is Bo Xilai, Chongqing's Party boss who has charmed many Western journalists.  

What on earth happened that led to Wang Lijun's "defection" into the US consulate in Chengdu?  Below is what I heard while in China.  Keep in mind part of this is informed speculation, so take it with a grain of salt. 

First, Wang Lijun was not seeking asylum with the US as some have guessed.  He was running away from Bo Xilai and seeking the protection of Beijing's Party Central, and he used the US consulate as a safe house, possibly also a message relay point.  He waited an entire day until the people sent from Beijing arrived, at which point he walked out of the US consulate "of his own volition," as state department spokeswoman Victoria Nuland put it.

Wang then walked into a melee between two forces waiting outside:  Seventy police wagons sent by Bo Xilai, and agents of State Security sent from Beijing. The two parties scuffled and argued about who would take Wang Lijun into custody. In the end, Wang's plan worked: he was escorted to Beijing instead of Chongqing.

So why, at such a key point in Bo Xilai's political future, was he taking this unusual action against his right-hand man and police chief?

According to sources, Wang Lijun was involved in the "Tieling case" and is under investigation.  To make a deal for himself, he informed the Party Central's Commission for Discipline Inspection that Bo Xilai and his family had transferred money and property overseas.  Bo, of course, found out about Wang’s accusations and it led to the sudden arrests of Wang's eleven henchmen, including Wang's driver, as well as the removal of Wang from the post of Chongqing's police chief on February 2^nd. 

Thailand World News says that, a reporter of the Chinese Southern Weekend spoke to Wang Lijun by phone on February 4^th . When asked whether his driver had been arrested, Wang replied, "If he's arrested, so be it."  ("抓就抓唄.")

How Wang escaped Bo's control and drove three hours from Chongqing to Chengdu's US consulate on the 6^th is still unclear. It is said that Wang used the excuse of visiting a university and received Bo's approval.  Which university is that?  It must be somewhere between Chongqing and Chengdu to provide Wang the possibility of escape.

Only 19 months ago, in July 2010, Chongqing's previous police chief, Wen Qiang, was executed by lethal injection.  Wang Lijun, who succeeded Wen Qiang as Chongqing's police chief, played a key role in Wen Qiang's downfall, and has been hailed as the heroic gangbuster.  Ironically and astonishingly, Wang turned from a police hero to a criminal more quickly than Wen Qiang did.  It brings forth the vivid image from the Chinese adage:  "The mantis stalks the cicada, while the oriole is after the mantis."

Wang Lijun is now in the hands of Party Central.  It will be very interesting to see how (or if) Beijing will explain his role reversal to the public. As to Bo Xilai, his hope to ascend is probably finished, though, as I heard someone say, don’t rule him out yet!

A Dual Review of Tombstone and Mao's Great Famine

(Note:  I'm traveling in China right now, where I don't have access to my own blog.  I have to ask someone else outside to put this post up for me.  It was a surprise to me, though, that LA Review of Books is also blocked.  I don't know why and doubt that there was a particular reason, but now with my following review published, the Chinese government might indeed feel the need. Sigh. )

THETEACHER OF THE FUTURE
XUJUN EBERLEIN
on two accounts of the great Chinese famine.

In July 2011, Frank Dikötter’s Mao’s Great Famine won the BBC’s Samuel Johnson Prize, one of Europe’s best known and most lucrative awards for a work of nonfiction. One of the judges, Brenda Maddox, explained to the Guardian why the book impressed her so much: “Why didn’t I know about this? We feel we know who the villains of the 20th century are — Stalin and Hitler. But here, fully 50 years after the event, is something we did not know about.”

That reaction highlights both the main contribution and main limitation of Dikötter’s book. Though there have been many books and articles published on the same subject — in English, Chinese, and I’m sure other languages — apparently Dikötter’s is the one that brought awareness to at least one more Westerner ignorant of the catastrophe. On the other hand, Dikötter’s attempt to draw parallels between the Mao-era famine that swept over the entirety of mainland China from 1959 to 1961 and killed tens of millions, the Holocaust, and the Soviet Gulag is, at best, an over-simplification that hinders understanding. To borrow what the discerning Asia scholar Ian Buruma once said on a different subject: “To distinguish between atrocities does not diminish the horror, but without clarity on these matters history recedes into myth and becomes a form of propaganda.”

The most authoritative study on the famine is Yang Jisheng’s Tombstone, which has a broader and deeper perspective. The Chinese language edition of the book was published in Hong Kong two years before Dikötter’s, and an English version is due out from Farrar, Straus and Giroux in fall 2012.

(Read the complete review at LOSANGELES REVIEW OF BOOKS)

Christmas in Shanghai

by Maple, guest blogger,  December 25, 2011

[in translation， 中文原文附后]

At Jing'an Temple in Shanghai

I don't know when it started, but my Chinese countrymen have increasingly lost feeling for traditional festivals and become more and more heated up by Western holidays. Even economic depression and "End of the World" panic can't hold back Shanghai's fervor to welcome Christmas.

At a mall in Shanghai

In a place that always leads the fashion trend and where there is no shortage of foreigners and foreign enterprises, it may not be so strange for some people to take this ride for a bit of fun, but when an entire city collectively goes crazy for a foreign holiday, it is a different matter indeed.  Here is the humility that goes with Christianity—such respect for others' cultures must be an overwhelmingly pleasant surprise to the 0.5% of the population in Shanghai that is foreign. So harmonious.

In Shanghai's Zhengda Square

 Each year, when Christmas approaches, the joyful atmosphere seeps to every corner of the city like overflowing water. When nights fall, the city is ever so gorgeous with lit-up trees, silver flowers and colorful embroideries of light, while Christmas music incessantly drones on. Excited young people dress exquisitely, like flowering branches vying for attention. No matter a big department store or small supermarket, no matter a bank or restaurant, no matter a foreign-invested or domestic enterprise or even a government organization, at every building's door there is a Christmas tree fully decorated with neon lights and bags of  presents. Even small residential enclaves and ordinary hospitals are not spared. So what if you are a Buddhist or Muslim, when you go home or go to the hospital, you get to celebrate Christmas.

In Shanghai's hotel

A while ago there was a joke circulating on the internet: in a contest for the most enigmatic department on the earth, the winner is China's "relevant department" ("有关部门").  I suspect, to place Christmas trees in every corner of Shanghai is the glorious mission of a "relevant department."

In a residential enclave of Shanghai

Perhaps people so exhaust their enjoyment during Christmas, that when it actually comes time for our own spring festival, the reaction from both businesses and the populace is fatigued.  Besides the dull red lanterns, sausage and smoked pork, plus the CCTV Gala Show that gets worse and worse every year, there is nothing else. Compared with people's enthusiasm for Christmas, spring festival no doubt is cast in the shadows.

In Shanghai's supermarket

Nowadays when commenting on something interesting, the Shanghai idiom goes, "That has some tunes" ("老有腔调的").  Is it because we Chinese are so insipid and constrained in nature that our traditional festivals are spent with fewer and fewer tunes?  Otherwise why, when the fun and relaxing foreign holidays such as Halloween, Valentine's Day, and Christmas are introduced,  do we progress from fascination to enthusiastic talk  to glad acceptance?  As to why Halloween involves masks, where Valentine's originated or whose birth Christmas is celebrating, no one cares as long as there are big meals to eat, discount goods to buy and colorful decorations to see.

But let's cut the cackle. On Christmas day, real Christians go to church to hear sermons, sing hymns, and read the Bible. There you will again run into situations between laughter and tears.  At the gate of the following church, for example, a bunch of Henanese sit there begging—

On Christmas Day, beggers at a Shanghai church

Even beggers in Shanghai know today is Christmas. That adds some tunes. They must have their simple logic – merciful Christians probably won't refuse to give charity on this special day.  That is why they deploy the most primitive ruse of bodily suffering:  on a frigid winter day, sitting on icy cement ground, wearing patched clothing and a faint smile, they languidly chant to the church goers: Please do something kind, bosses, please do something kind!

The foreigners pass by unfazed, but how can the fellow Chinese bear it? One digs into his pocket and hands money to a begging woman.  The woman takes the bills and says loudly, Thank you, you the good heart! You really are a living Buddha!

The Good Heart sighs looking up to the heavens, Oh my Lord!

China's Officialdom Novels: Translators Pay Attention!

There is a rumor on the Chinese internet that, at various government levels, Party bosses are requiring their secretaries and subordinates to make a new novel their "must-read." This novel, which I'm reading right now, is titled "No. 2 Boss." (By the way, the Chinese word "首长" is a bit difficult to translate precisely in this context.  I'm using "boss" for the moment.  If anyone has a better suggestion, I'm all ears.)

In China's "officialdom" jargon, "No. 2 boss" refers to the boss's secretary (administrative assistant), and this novel's protagonist is the secretary of a provincial Party chief (roughly the equivalent of a governor). Such a character's wide perspective on the Chinese officialdom sphere, from the central government and Party apparatus to the local bureaucrats, supports a plot that is never dull.

The author, Huang Xiaoyang, apparently has intimate knowledge of government business and its daily particulars. In this tremendously entertaining and stunningly detailed novel, Tang Xiaozhou, a journalist-turned-secretary, navigates the open strife and veiled struggles of provincial politics with great skill and craftiness.  While more or less maintaining the tenets of basic decency in a world full of corruption, the protagonist does not sacrifice his own opportunities for advancement.

I have finished reading the first two volumes of the long novel, which can be bought online and in bookstores everywhere in China. The author is still working on the third volume, and is publishing one page a day online as he writes it. Such serial installments as a form of novel publishing in China can be dated back to 1892, according to this study. The difference today is the internet has overtaken newspapers. I confess that reading one new page a day of a Chinese novel has added a certain addictive pleasure to my daily morning tea.

The political worldview expressed in "No.2 Boss," not surprisingly, has a heavy imprint from a Chinese politician's cynically pragmatic angle, and some of it might be unacceptable to American readers. At times, I also feel the book's excessive number of sex scenes undermine its literary quality. (I hope to address these issues more explicitly in a longer review later.) On the other hand, the novel's realistic and meticulous portrayal of Chinese political culture has irreplaceable value to anyone who is interested in understanding China.  Nowadays, an unprecedentedly large number of Western writers and journalists are working and living in Beijing, Shanghai and other Chinese cities,  publishing more and more books written in English.  These books make significant contribution for the world's understanding of China, and the viewpoint of  outside observers is often refreshing to Chinese readers as well.  However, no foreigner could have written a book like "No.2 Boss"; the nuance could only come from the hand of a cultural insider.  

By the way, officialdom novels are not a new genre in China as some foreign observers think. The genre flourished in the Qing Dynasty. In my youth I read with great interest several of those novels mentioned in this article. The genre disappeared in the Mao era, but has made a comeback in recent decades. It seems to be reaching a new peak now. The fact that the genre has become hot again might be a bellwether for the level of government corruption.

Update: here's my longer review in Foreign Policy:  The Rules of the Game

Related links:

• The Officialdom Novel Shines Light in Dark Corners
• Novels about officialdom are hot sellers in 2010
• Rules of engagement
• 重庆一局长写《官场笔记》 登上全国作家富豪榜

Will Chinese Go Alphabetic?

Yesterday, an email header in my inbox caught my eye, not because of its subject but its language. So I clicked the link.  Here is the screenshot of what I saw:

Note the English word "Hold" in the middle of the otherwise all-Chinese headline that translates to: "Can Real Estate Developers Hold Any Longer?"  The article is a commentary from the independent media group (a rare presence in China) Caixin's website, caixin.cn.  

Though English words do show up here and there in Chinese blog posts nowadays, this is the first time I have seen a reputed Chinese publication mixing the two languages in an article.

Why does the author, who looks quite young from the photo, feel the need to repetedly use a particular English word in a Chinese article?  It's possible that he thinks it expresses his meaning more accurately than Chinese; it's also possible that he thinks this mixed language could be a more attractive style of writing for his readers. But, reading his headline makes my tongue feel utterly awkward.

It reminds me of a Mao quote that sticks from my childhood memory, when reciting Mao quotations was a fashion during the Cultural Revolution. "Language and writing must be reformed to go alphabetic, the common direction of languages in the world," Mao said.  And he indeed gave it a try in the 1950s.  Peter Hessler had an excellent piece in the New Yorker several years ago that tells the language reform history.  As it turns out, the reform attempt did not manage to alphabetize written Chinese, though it resulted in the official "pinyin" system that uses the Roman alphabet to assist the learning of Chinese pronunciation, as well as the simplification of some characters.

Since then, the debate on whether written Chinese should be replaced by an alphabet has never ceased.  By birth, I'm a big fan of the square Chinese characters, which hold cultural, artistic and semantic richness in strokes and structures. I am not eager to see them go. However, today's young generation of Chinese seem to be a lot less attached to their ancestral language, one of the consequences of globalization I suspect.  I had never believed our beautiful square characters would one day become obsolete; now I'm not so sure. 

My Own "9/11" Complex

... reposting a personal essay from three years ago.  

The Camphor Suitcase

(Published in Literal Latte, 2008)

In the recent Year of the Snake — I remember because it's my daughter's sign — the image of a maroon suitcase made of camphor wood began to follow me like a phantom. It became most vivid in the dusk as I drove home from work, when my mind was free from corporate politics and daily domestic troubles. Along the road from Newton to Wayland, the famous New England autumn painted my windshield with shifting hues of golden red, dark red, light yellow, bright yellow, eclipsing shades of green and other unnameable colors. For me, born in southwest China, New England’s icy five-month winter imposes an unjust imprisonment; spring is practically non-existent; summer plays the double role of benefactor and spoiler; only the brilliant and solemn autumn calms my soul. But it failed me that year.

I hadn’t set eyes on the camphor suitcase for 13 years. (>>read the complete essay here)

Who Is the Guilty Party?

by Anonymous

(Note: I got this from a friend in China who asked to remain anonymous. – Xujun)

[In translation]

CHINA — Two years ago, I bought a tiny flat from a stranger. While making some minor changes to the old interior, the electrician I hired found problematic wires, and that the electricity meter outside did not work. The electrician, who had more than 20 years of experience, concluded that the previous owner had messed about with the meter in order to steal electricity. He pointed to a jumble of wires and tried to explain – why this wire did not connect to the meter and that wire did not connect to ground – only to make me further confused. Finally I got the gist of what he was saying: the previous owner installed a very small switch inside the apartment, and reconnected the meter to the switch, which fully controlled the meter's readings. As the result, if he had used 100 kwh of electricity, the meter would only read 10 kwh.

This was the first time I heard of such a thing, so I was at a loss as to what to do. I asked the electrician, "Could you please rewire the meter to its original design for me?" He teased me, "Why should I? Isn't it better for you to save electricity cost?" I waved my hand and said, "Drop it, I'm a coward, I won't be able to sleep if I steal. The money saved this way wouldn't even be enough to buy me sleeping pills."

The electrician fiddled with the meter, but in the end couldn't do much to help, because there was a red seal in it that said, "Do not remove seal, Electricity Bureau only; otherwise bear full consequences." He said he couldn't take the responsibility.

I called the previous owner, who neatly denied everything. His voice was full of surprise: "Really? Really? I had no idea! How could it be?"

With no choice, I went to the housing estate's property management, hoping they would help me solve the problem. The director was a young man who looked like he was just out of college. He patiently heard me out and calmly said, "Things like that are not our responsibility. We wouldn't dare to touch that seal either. Why don't you call the Electricity Bureau, perhaps they will send someone for you? But…" he hesitated a few seconds and then said, "For this kind of thing, you know, the Electricity Bureau is very hard to deal with…" He stopped again, his expression looked restrained.

Coming out of the property management office with a foggy head, I ran into Manager Zhou of the real estate agency. After listening to my story, he warned me against acting rashly. "I have heard things like this before," he said, "the Electricity Bureau only holds the current owner accountable. Change electricity wires without authorization? Fine 5000 yuan. You don't pay? They cut your electricity immediately."

I argued, "Can't they be reasoned with? I haven't even moved in, how can it be my doing? Plus, if it were me who did it, why would I take the trouble telling them? It only makes sense for them to consider it the previous owner's responsibility!"

Manager Zhou laughed in surprise: "My God! Are you from an alien planet? China's electricity is a monopoly trade, they are the boss, who do they fear? What's there to reason with them? They don't care to figure out who's right or wrong; it is the most convenient to just grab you. You want to live in this house? Then you have no way to escape. Even going to the court it is 100% your fault. Believe it!"

I didn't believe, but I took his advice to make the call from a public phone a few housing estates away. I explained the situation to the Electricity Bureau. The woman who answered had a flat tone like machine: Please provide your name, phone number, and address.

With Manager Zhou wagging his head to signal me, I hurriedly said this was for a friend, who just wanted to know what she should do in this case.

The woman's tone was unchanged: 5000 yuan fine. After the fine is paid we will send someone to fix the wires.

I couldn't help but raise my voice: "But this wasn't my friend's fault! It was the previous owner, don't you understand? Wouldn't you be wronging a good person and letting a bad one go?"

The woman's same cold voice held to the end: We only hold the current owner accountable. This is the procedure.

I almost cried out: Fuck the procedure! Are you a robot?

I also wanted to say, Are you forcing an innocent girl to prostitute herself (逼良为娼)?

Manager Zhou looked at me sympathetically: "You really don't need to care, let it be. It's not just one or two households stealing electricity. To tell you the truth, the house I rent now has the same situation. In our building 60% of apartment owners do this."

I was speechless for a while. Then I said, "No way! Thieves are in the open, and a moral person must sneak around, this is turning things upside down! I don't care what others do, I must correct the meter. Please help me find a way."

Manager Zhou gave me a wry smile: "Never seen one as stubborn as you are. Go look in the famers market, there may be someone specialized in this sort of thing."

I suspected he was toying with me. I often went shopping in farmers market, how come I never saw such a person?


In a corner of the market, I asked a fish seller if there was an electricity master who could change wires. He pointed behind without lifting his head. A fat man wearing oil-stained clothes took the hint and came to me, asking directly: "Where do you live?" and then simply said: "500 yuan."

I glared at him: "Are you robbing me? At most 200."

He did not get upset, but smiled: "What a temper! 200 then. Deal."

The fat man made a call, lowering his voice to give the other end my address. He then told me "Go wait at home. Arrival within an hour."

In less than half an hour, a slight man wearing the work robe of Electricity Bureau arrived. Within a minute of opening the electricity meter, he was done. Seeing suspicion in my look, the man said: "Rest assured. Wires corrected and the seal replaced. I'm from the Electricity Bureau myself and have done this job often. There will be no problem."

I was curious: "You are often asked to change wires?"

He said frankly: "Illegal changes are naturally more than corrections. I do all. 500 yuan for an illegal change, not a penny less. For corrections I can give better prices."

I saw a big wad of seals in his bag and suddenly understood: When the electricity meter was changed in the first place, the seal must have been removed; why did I see one that was intact? The only answer is: the Electricity Bureau's staff must be the thief who steal what they are guarding (监守自盗). Who knows, perhaps the one who changed the wires last time was the same man today?

I sighed about the shadiness when I handed the man the money.

He said modestly: "We are just giving a hand to help everyone, otherwise what's to be done? Everyone needs to be fed, right?"


Nearly two years passed. On a hot day last month, the power went off at noon. I called the Electricity Bureau, and a worker arrived in 5 minutes. He said the fuse was burned and needed to be changed to a thicker one. Then he discovered something and said: "The meter has been messed around with."

The adage goes that "A thief's guilty consciences make him cowardly (做贼心虚)." I wasn't the thief but was cowardly all the same. I tried my utmost to deny.

The worker said: "Come and see – someone changed here. The ends are still here. We experts can tell with one glance. No need to deny. I'm going to call the Bureau and have them handle this."

He started to dial his cellphone. I was forced to ask pardon. I told him the whole story and hoped he would let me go.

I bet the man was just a big boy not even 23 years old. With plump cheeks and shining eyes, his face was full of innocent smile. He said: "I believe you. But the other guy did not do a thorough job. He must have been posing as an Electricity Bureau staff. Also possible he's a relative of a staff member, got the work robe, and used it to make money. You found me by calling the Bureau, so I can't be fake. I can redo the correction for you and ensure you can sleep in peace from now on."

Now seasoned, I asked: "How much?"

He said calmly: "At least 300 yuan."

I said: "At most 200. Please give me your name and cellphone number. I don't want to be endlessly extorted by you Electricity Bureau people."

He smiled brightly: "Don't get angry, we are only taking money to remove ill fortune (拿人钱财替人消灾)."

Two minutes later he declared everything was OK now. He left his cellphone number and told me to call him if there was any problem. "But there won't be any problem. Rest assured, there'll be problems no more." His smile was very warm.

My Block Booking for a Red Movie in Shanghai

by Maple, guest blogger

[Note:  July 1st this year marks the 90th birthday of China's Communist Party. To celebrate it, "red" movies and TV shows are sweeping the country, to the extent that popular spy shows are banned May through July. The biggest film made especially for this occasion is "The Great Cause of Founding the Party" (《建党伟业》), which, in the China-made English ad, is translated as "Beginning of the Great Revival." Its release day was June 15th.  Here is the experience of an ordinary moviegoer on June 17th. -- Xujun]

[in translation， 中文原文附后]

(Shanghai, June 17) I went to a movie theater this afternoon, to give myself a break after a week of intense painting. A French movie festival was ongoing, but I would have to wait until evening to see it. The 3D "Kung Fu Panda" was on, but that kind of fad is for teens with high-tech addictions and would only daze me.  

Coincidentally, the movie "The Great Cause of Founding the Party" (《建党伟业》) was about to start in 5 minutes. I bought the ticket, as if guided by a deity. Entering the screening room, I was stared at by the theater staff. They were whispering about me -- did they suspect my head was crushed by the door?

It turned out that,  in the whole screening room, with more than 400 seats, I was the only audience member, the only person who voluntarily dug into my own wallet to receive the "red" education.

To be fair, the movie is well made. The plot is tight, some details are moving, and the actors are high quality.  But to put more than a hundred of the most famous stars into one movie, that seems like a practical joke.

Last time when "The Great Cause of Founding the Country" (《建国大业》) was made [in a similar fashion], many people went to theaters driven by the urge to "identify famous faces." From the beginning to the end, every time a face appeared on the screen, the hundreds of audience would roar in one voice: "Tang Guoqiang!" "Liu Yiwei!" "Liu Dehua!"  For two hours, all were engaged in identifying, shouting, and guessing; identifying, shouting, and guessing. No one knew what the movie was about.  To call it "great education for all people" is not as precise as "great entertainment for all people."  Perhaps this was the leaders' real goal after all? Educating by entertaining?

Now once again the great entertainment comes, but the masses are tired, they don't want to play anymore. They have left me alone doing the identification and guessing. I still don't understand why Zhao Benshan (赵本山) would wordlessly stand in Yuan Shikai's (袁世凯) shadow, with an expression half laughing half crying, and why Liu Yunlong (柳云龙), an actor I admire, would be half hiding in the left lower corner like a shadow. This was too distracting! I identified this face and then that, couldn't hear at all what Zhou Runfa (周润发) was saying. What was the director's motive? I couldn't enjoy the movie itself, I was only thinking: Why is Wang Xuebing (王学兵) so haggard? Who is playing Xiaofengxian (小凤仙), so beautiful?

      

The most far-off thing was that all the scenes of Tang Wei (汤唯) were removed. She was acting Mao Zedong's first love (not Yang Kaihui), but because she had been all nude in "Lust, Caution," someone thought she would tarnish the great man's image.  Yet Liu Ye (刘烨), the man who plays Mao himself, had starred in the most well-known homosexual film "Lan Yu" (《蓝宇》), with many shots of him all-nude in bed. If the same logic were used, wouldn't he tarnish Mao's image more directly? If we were back in the Cultural Revolution, the director would certainly be executed twice.

My only consolation is that, as a big screen lover, I enjoyed 135 minutes of exclusive block booking of the theater all by myself. I sat there straight to the last minute, until all names of the actors, workers, and musicians ascended beyond the screen.

For a moviegoer like me who's sick beyond cure, the staff member at the door was very sad. He slowly shook his head, like an owl.

(Continue to read the Chinese text / 继续阅读中文原文)

Another Kind of American History in Chongqing 1-5

Did Americans run a concentration camp in Chongqing in the 1940s?  My first post at James Fallows' Atlantic site went up yesterday - Another Kind of American History in Chongqing, 1: Prologue

Update: the 2nd post is up - Another Kind of American History in Chongqing, 2: Evolution

Update 2/2: the 3rd post is up -  Another Kind of American History in Chongqing, 3: Puzzle

Update 2/3: the 4th post is up -  Another Kind of American History in Chongqing, 4: Explorers

Update 2/4: the final post is up - Another Kind of American History in Chongqing, 5: Revision

The Unbearable Lightness of Nobel Prize Jokes

In my childhood, during the CR, there were no fun books to read, so one of my great entertainment pleasures was to tell and retell international political jokes.  These were jokes I heard from others, or read in Reference News (参考消息,a Party newspaper my parents subscribed to).  The subjects mocked by those jokes were, almost exclusively, the United States and the Soviet Union.  Sometimes the jokes were so clever and funny my playmates and I would roll around on the ground laughing.  Nobody then would have imagined that one day China itself could become a subject of political jokes.

In the vociferous reactions to this year's Nobel Peace Prize, there is a lighter side:  a number of political jokes have been circulating on overseas Chinese websites.  The following is my translation of one of those.

It Is the Moon Festival

Today is the 15^th day of the 8^th month in the lunar calendar – the Mid-Autumn Festival, what people here call "the moon festival."  If you look up at the moon tonight, chances are you'll find it the roundest, brightest of the year.  When I was a child, my grandmother used to tell us that if you place a basin of clear water under the moon on this day, you'll see the jade tree and the jade rabbit in it.  I tried, and I always saw a vague shape in shadow, which could be interpreted as almost anything. (Image from http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap070926.html)

Ancient Chinese poets seemed to have a special sentiment for the moon, as evidenced by numerous poems intoning it. One of the most well-known perhaps is Su Dongpo's "Shui Diao Ge Tou," in the form of Song ci, a rhymed verse composed of lines of three to seven characters which first appeared in the Tang Dynasty (AD 618-907), and reached its perfection in the Song Dynasty (AD 960-1279). It was 934 years ago today that Su Dongpo wrote this classic masterpiece.

Many English translations exist, however none could convey to me the sentiments wafting through the Chinese words.  As an example, the following are three different translations of Su Dongpo's lines "人有悲欢离合，月有阴晴圆缺，此事古难全":

• As translated by Tr. A. Ayling & D. Mackintosh:

Men know joy and sorow, parting and reunion;

The moon lacks lustre, brightly shines; is al, is less.

Perfection was never easily come by.

• As translated by Xu Zhongjie (1986):

The moon has weather that change,

Fine or foul; it wax and shine.

Mankind is sad at parting;

Happy at reunion again.

From the utmost ancient time,

Down to our own very days,

The imperfection of all things –

Has for ever been the case.

• As translated by Yang Yixian etc (2001).:

For men the grief of parting, joy of reunion,

Just as the moon wanes and waxes, is bright or dim;

Always some flaw – and so it has been since of old.

All are fine translations, but whereas the Chinese sounds extraordinary, the English makes it dull.  It is not the translator. It is the damn language. This is the reason I almost never attempt to translate ancient poems – I simply can't get the succinct beauty, the exquisiteness, and the sonorous sound across.  An ancient Chinese poem can make my heart tremble, but an English translation of it never does.  It is not the translator. It is the damn language.

Some say a pictographic language is more primitive than an alphabetic one – or in other words, an alphabetic language is progress in civilization.  Mao seemed to agree with this.  I still remember a Mao quotation from my childhood: "Chinese language should go the common alphabetic direction of other countries in the world."  I am glad this did not happen.  I'm sure an alphabetic Chinese would never give me the joy and intimacy the square characters do.

I recently read a very enjoyable book, Dreaming in Chinese by Deborah Fallows. Her experience in learning the Chinese culture through learning the language – the frustration and triumph, the pain and pleasure, the questioning and understanding –  are presented from a refreshing angle, often surprisingly so to a native Chinese speaker like me. I'd recommend this book to anyone who's new to things Chinese.  In one of the chapters the author asks a legitimate question, "Why do the Chinese hang onto this difficult character-based writing system?" She points out its disadvantages: cumbersome, hard to learn, awkward to look up in dictionaries, etc.  She also recognizes its merits, mainly its historical and cultural significance.  I want to add a personal perspective:  I think Chinese is the richest language in the world.  For me, as probably for most Chinese, its merits clearly overweigh the inconveniences.  (As a native speaker I actually never felt the inconveniences anyway.)

Why then, you might ask, am I writing in English now?  In fact several editors who interviewed me have asked that question. The answer is:  for communication.  I live among English speakers and I feel the need to communicate.  (If you want to know why I came to the US, the short answer is "for love."  Read the story here if you are interested.)  In other words, Chinese is a passion, English is a tool.  Today I still prefer to read Chinese books over English ones, and in fact I can read Chinese 30 times faster.

It is a pain to love one language and use another in daily life. It causes a schism in my consciousness.  But that's imperfection of life, and I accept it.  Su Dongpo has said it, 此事古难全.