Sunday, April 4, 2010

"They Produce Lies, We Pretend to Believe"

New Weekly's interview with Wu Si

(Note: The governmental behavior described by Wu Si in this interview seems quite universal. Communism not required.  I think Wu Si has many good insights, though his confidence in democracy seems too high. There's no shortage of lies in America, for instance. — Xujun)

[in translation]

Wu Si has been the executive editor, co-director and chief editor of the Yanhuang Chunqiu magazine. His books, Hidden Rules: the Real Game in Chinese History,  and Blood Remuneration Law: The Survival Game in Chinese History, have widespread influence. He is dubbed "father of the hidden-rule concept." (Interviewer: Hu Jiujiu)

There Is a State System that Makes It Easy to Produce Lies

New Weekly: Lao Tzu said, "With the emergence of intelligence, come big falsehoods." I wonder if it's alright to understand "falsehoods" here as "lies"?

Wu Si: Yes. Either "hypocrites," or "lies," alright.

New Weekly:  This is a question of historical view: what history is true?

Wu Si: The fact is, there is a kind of state system that makes it extremely easy to produce lies, manufacture lies, under which lying becomes legitimate and cost-effective. Look at this system in our history: an emperor, a bunch of bureaucrats under him, facing a country of peasants, peasants with no open information channels. To the person who fights for state power, who rules the country, whether Qin Shihuang, Zhu Yuanzhang, or Liu Bang, the problem he must solve is how to rule the country. The highest ruler has two options: one is using naked violence, compulsion; another is using persuasive power, benevolent governance. The two options also have to be kept in proportion. Ruling by violence alone is fragile, and will not last, or in other words, the long-term gains are not looking good. Thus the partial adaptation of Confucian ways, to convince you, exhort you, let you approve by heart.

New Weekly: Then this becomes a set of lies by the ruler.

Wu Si: This is a set of theories. If the ruler truly follows the theory, then it is not a lie, or at least the proportion of lying is low. If he does not follow the theory, we can say it is a lie.

So, will he follow the theory? He definitely won't, or not completely. On one hand he requires you to follow, on the other hand he himself does not completely follow. For example, "the sovereign be benevolent, the subjects be loyal," "the father be kind, the son be filial," "the husband be righteous, the wife be obedient." My duties are the rights for you to enjoy, and your duties are the rights for me to enjoy. We complement each other.  Even if your rights are bigger than mine, my duties are more than yours, since you are the sovereign and I'm the subject, your responsibility is also bigger. I can accept that. This is the Confucian "three cardinal guides and five constant virtues," and it sounds acceptable.

In reality however, the more powerful side does not want to be restrained, has difficulty obeying, is very easily corrupted, and often is neither benevolent nor kind. Benevolent rulers are rare in history; the proportion is very low. But, lack of benevolence does not permit disloyalty. Therefore [the ruler] can’t rely too heavily on reasoning.  He needs to mix the kingly way with Taoism, Confucian outside Legalist inside. On the outside he is Confucian, talking soundly, persuasive, fastidious about standards in all aspects. What actually happens is that he lets you follow the rules, he doesn't. Further, he doesn’t let you know he’s not benevolent, instead he publicizes his benevolence. If anyone dares to object, no more words, simply destroy him. The ruler carries penal laws and raw power.

Looking at such a state system, persuasive power is very important. It can lower ruling costs, and increase ruling gains. It can form inner constraints in people as the ruled. Not only that, it can bring to the whole system a sacred, magnificent sense.   This persuasive power is so important, naturally it can't be given up.

In particular, how are cost and benefit calculated? The benefit is to have the subjects and people willingly follow rules and norms. The cost is that the ruler himself has to follow the rules, setting an example. Benevolent governing has big benefits, ruling by persuasion, by simply moving lips to make peace in half of the world, such benefits one should completely receive. But the cost of setting an example is very high, one shouldn't pay fully, but should make it look like full payment, even over payment, meanwhile the truth can't be exposed. So the cost of setting an example is transformed into secretly tidying up a few people, sealing the throats of opponents. As to those who lick the ruler's boots, no shortage of them, they come automatically without being called. Under such a state system lying has a high benefit and a low cost. Starting from the top, large scale lying is inevitably going to happen. 

Formation of a Lying Community

New Weekly: The first biggest lie is "the sovereign's authority is bestowed by God." All lies under that come from this root.

Wu Si: That's right. The line "the sovereign's authority is bestowed by God" itself contains a lie. But the lie is a conditional one. It does not mean that God bestows you the power once and for all. The orthodox expression is that God's will falls on a person of virtue. Not everyone can be "God's son." You have the virtues, you get God's will. You don't have the virtues, God's will can change, revolution can happen. So you must pretend to have the virtues. God sees you through your people's eyes, so you must lie to all your people, to display your virtues. Then you'll get God's will; those who covet the power will give up. Where interest lies, where the ultimate trend goes, this decides that the state system inevitably makes lies.

New Weekly: Finally, lies in China form a lying community; from top to bottom everyone has unspeakable secrets. Sometimes, lies are not for hurting others but for protecting oneself.

Wu Si: Don't talk freely. Don't leave evidence that can be turned against you.

New Weekly: We've published an article by Wu Xiaobo titled "Qian Xuesen, Your Greatness Is Short of One Apology". It says the father of [China's] nuclear bomb once wrote an article on the science of how yield-per-mu can "launch a satellite."[1]  Looking back from now, does that count as a lie?

Wu Si: He and Mao Zedong had a more particular conversation. Mao Zedong said, I've read your article. Qian Xuesen said, I wrote that one casually. One datum has yet to be calculated accurately. Mao Zedong immediately said, Ah, you are talking recklessly too. When Mao discussed this with him, he made it slightly ambiguous, taking a step back. Even if he calculated accurately, it may not be a lie theoretically, it still has the room for making a lie: possibility in theory is not equal to possibility in realization using available technology. Anyway, his calculation, that the yield-per-mu could be as high as the solar energy transfer rate dictates, indeed had real impact on Mao Zedong.

Later someone asked Mao, you were born to a peasant family, don’t you know how much one mu could yield? Mao said, I read Qian Xuesen's article, the scientist said so.  — At least Qian played a role of adding fuel to the flames. Thus he indeed owed a great apology. Not great, he owed a proper apology.

New Weekly: Among intellectuals, lets say we can divide them to several kinds, for example one kind are of humanities and social sciences, another kind are of natural sciences and technology, the third are bureaucrat intellectuals. Among the three kinds, which one do you think will most easily produce lies?

Wu Si: Government intellectuals for sure.

New Weekly: His daily needs.

Wu Si: Yes, it is necessary for ruling, but we should also look at particular times. For example, in the Mao era, especially pre-1953, the government intellectuals' subjective feeling was that they had truth in their hand, not lies. They confidently carried out reform on others. At the time intellectuals at large were the subject of reform, many hid their true thoughts and said things against their own will. What is truth, what are lies, the subjective standard is in favor of the government. After the Great Leap Forward, lies were burst, with extremely serious consequences, even by the subjective standard, government intellectuals became the main producer of lies. But intellectuals at large then didn't dare to talk much, the pressure after the anti-rightist movement was too high, so they produced lies in a differently way – by faking belief.

Lying and Split Personality

New Weekly: Ba Jin wrote the book of essays Vagrant Thoughts, claiming to speak the truth, what do you think of it?

Wu Si:  Ba Jin spoke a bit of truth. In a private conversation – I forgot where I read it – he said, I just spoke that little bit of truth, didn't dare to speak the complete truth. According to him, if the measure was a bit wider, if he said a bit more, then it would not be able to get published. Speaking truth is a measurement issue. All truth, three out of ten, or one out of ten?  He could speak five or six out of ten, it's already very good, it's progress compared to one or two out of ten. Not lying is progress.

New Weekly: Why does the state system that easily produces lies last so long in China?

Wu Si: It has low cost, high benefit. The core of the state system are the rulers, to them this is a natural strategy. The lies are nothing but statements of how the ruling system conforms to the public will. If the system changed to one with elections by popular will, becoming a negotiation between the public and public servants, then the system would be a trading system, the elected naturally conform with the popular will, there's no need to make lies. Further, in such a trading system, all sides watch to see if you follow the contract. Hence the system is one that destroys lies. If you violate the contract, if you lie, it generally results in bigger loss than gain.

New Weekly:  Living in a state system of lies, I can even feel a split personality in myself.

Wu Si: A split personality might be like this: you must say something you don't agree with, you know very well you are lying, still you have to say it. In so doing, you must deal with the issue of lying, to rationalize it, to find a spirit strategy. This is easy to split. But there is another state: though being demanded to lie, I don't lie. I only speak truth. When it gets to the point that I can't speak truth, I stop talking. This way avoids splits. I reach whatever point I can, then stop moving.

New Weekly:  What's your personal attitude toward speaking truth? To try your best to not lie, or lie occasionally, or what?

Wu Si: We have to limit this in politics. On domestic politics, I only speak truth. If I can't speak truth, I don't lie. If you are talking about daily life stuff, for example when [your parents] asking whether you are getting better from illness, even if you are still sick, you don't want to make your parents worry, you just say yes. Such so-called white lies are unavoidable.


[1] Qian Xuesen (1911-2009), a leading Chinese physicist in the 20th century, published an article in 1958 in People's Daily claiming that scientific calculation shows crops yield can increase more than tenfold. That article is now viewed by some as a significant contribution to the calamity of the Great Leap Forward. Xujun

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Standing Water: "Not the Town’s Problem"

It was sunny while I was in Scotland in mid March. Everyone said it always rained in Edinburgh, but not on me. Only when Bob phoned from home that I heard about rain, and lots of it. He was in the basement of our house, pumping out water everyday.

Now it is April 1st, and the water is there again, and more. We are not alone, we have lots of neighbors with flooded basements and flooded yards, roads are closed, dams have burst. Even our tax filing deadline has been extended because of the flood. We just keep pumping and getting soaked.

Yesterday, the skies opened and it was possible to go outside. In our yard, the standing water formed little lakes (see photo below, taken today). Bob tried to figure out where it spread to. Hopping on his bike, he took a ride to the street corner across from our yard. There he found a little stream running down a road, through a culvert, and into a forest. Following the road, it became clear where the stream wanted to go: a massive wetland on the other side of Rt. 30. But the highway blocked that and the water had no place to go. So the water spills up onto the road and also back to our yard, all the way to our basement.












I finally called our town's Conservation Department yesterday, hoping they would know about streams and, in our case, unwanted little lakes. This was the first time I've ever called the town for help during our 12 years living here. The nice lady there couldn't really understand my question, but she called back in the afternoon, directing us to the Highway Department.

So, here's a rough rendition of Bob's conversation with the Highway Department this morning:

Bob: "There is a stream that runs through a culvert then hits route 30, thus the water on the road. It looks like the highway is blocking the water flow. Could you do something about it?"

Highway Department: "No. The water runs into a retaining area and that is overflowing."

Bob: “Isn’t there a culvert under Route 30?”

Highway Department: “No.”

Bob: "Shouldn’t there be?"

Highway Department: "Not the town’s problem."

Bob: “So who is responsible?”

Highway Department: “Nobody, it is what it is.”

Bob: “Would it be possible to pump the water across the highway?”

Highway Department: “Absolutely Not.”
I would not be surprised if I heard a bureaucrat talking like this in China. But this is Massachusetts, USA. I guess my two countries have more in common than I think.

Update:  Apparently Obama was in our neighborhood today for the flood. 

Thursday, March 25, 2010

One China, Two Chinas, Many?

On Tuesday afternoon, Bob and I went to BU's Pardee Center for a well-attended event titled "Shifting Patterns of Dissent and Repression in a Changing China," sponsored by the Asian Studies Initiative at BU.  Jeff Wasserstrom (UC Irvine) and Yang Jianli (Carr Center for Human Rights) gave interesting – and different – perspectives on the topic.
Jeff Wasserstrom's talk was derived from his new book China in the 21st Century: What Everyone Needs to Know. He points out several misconceptions that Western people commonly hold about China, one of which is to view Chinese people as divided into dissidents and loyalists, whereas in fact there is a whole spectrum of political positions staked out these days. He views this as a very different reality from either the time of the May 4th movement in 1919 or the June 4th movement in 1989; in both of those times, Chinese people's political stances were more united than now.

As a historian, who wrote his PhD thesis on Chinese student movements in the early 20th century, Wasserstrom provides a more historical perspective on China than most. He was finishing his thesis just as the 1989 Tiananmen protests were erupting, so has a good angle to think about that movement. He points out that one of the things the Chinese government has learned from the June 4th event is to be more pragmatic. Recognizing that there are numerous mass protests in China every year, the government brushes most aside as unimportant. It is only when activities are not of short duration or not geographically and socially localized that the central government takes action against them. This is a political change, contrary to some people's view that China has only changed economically.

I largely agree with the views Wasserstrom presented. I categorize myself, for example, in neither the dissident nor the loyalist camp. I'd like to remain an independent thinker for the rest of my life, which is a rather difficult position these days. I've lost some American writer friends because I refused to call the Beijing Olympics "genocide Olympics."  And I don't necessarily fare better with Chinese readers of my blog either. Though most Chinese are not at the extremes of the spectrum, it seems that those who are, are most active and outspoken. Apparently my blog does not please readers who take certain strong positions – the left are unhappy with my often critical attitude toward the government as well as my refusal to let go of the memory of, and lessons from, the past, while the right are unsatisfied that I do not talk as radical as dissidents do and that I advocate political reform rather than revolution. No matter. An independent thinker I will continue to be. Just as there are reasons for the left and right to exist, there is also a reason for someone like me to exist somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. :-)

I'm always happy to hear Western thinkers and writers, such as James Fallows, Jeff Wasserstrom, and Peter Hessler, emphasize the concept of variety when it comes to China and Chinese people. The point that there is a spectrum of attitudes and actions within China is right on the money. With over one billion people you would expect to find almost every imaginable attitude present. Yet surprisingly many Westerners do not perceive this way. Even Yang Jianli wanted to talk about "two Chinas": the elites and the "shitizens" as he calls them. As a writer, I do like the colorful term, but compared to Wasserstrom's more realistic perspective, Yang's two-dimensional classification seems way too simplified to give much insight. One China, two Chinas, many Chinas. I would have to go with the last.

Of course, Yang Jianli is a dissident, as he declared himself right at the beginning of his talk, and he does have more than ample cause to bear ill will toward those that imprisoned him. He was certainly right about one thing. In responding to Wasserstrom's observation that nowadays an individual could stand on Tiananmen Square and curse corrupted officials without being put into jail, Yang Jianli argued that you might or might not be arrested, but you are never sure. This is certainly true. I, for example, when researching on the Cultural Revolution during my China visits, have always worried whether I would get into trouble. I never have, but that did not eradicate my worries.  Yang was also right that, because the political changes are not systematic, there is always a danger that the bad old ways might make a comeback.  I expressed the same concern in a post titled "What Kind of Country is China Today?" last year.

However, I don't see that Wasserstrom's observation necessarily contradicts Yang's. China has changed not only economically but also politically from the time I lived there, yet China has a much longer way to go in its political reform. Whether the Chinese government's current programmatic approach will lead to a more systematic change remains the important question.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

What Do You Know about Edinburgh?

I'll be heading to Edinburgh for a writing conference titled "China Inside Out." (I know, the resemblance between the conference's title and my blog's is curious, but I believe this is just a coincidence, with a slight possibility that they copied me. :))

The Chinese name for Edinburgh, 爱丁堡, always rouses the picture of an ancient castle, European style.  I've never been in Edinburgh before and I'm excited for this opportunity, not the least because "in October 2004 Edinburgh became the very first UNESCO City of Literature."

The conference, held in the University of Edinburgh from March 11-13, is "a celebration of Chinese Women Writers in English." Participants include:
  • Writer and academic: Professor Shu-mei Shih, Dr Judith Misrahi Barack, Dr Margaret Hillenbrand
  • Poet and fiction writer: Wang Ping
  • Fiction writers: Xujun Eberlein, Liu Hong, Chiew-Siah Tei,
  • Critics: Professor LuMing Mao. Dr Amy Lai
  • Scottish writers: Lesley Glaister, Dilys Rose, A C Clarke, Dr Bashabi Fraser
  • Convenor of the Women's Committee of Scottish PEN: Faith Pullin
  • President of Scottish PEN and writer: Jenni Calder 

Friday, March 5, 2010

China 2013: A Quick Review

The Prosperous Time: China 2013, by Chen Guanzhong, Oxford University Press (China), HK$70.00.

In a country where social science fiction is currently rare, this neo-Orwellian novel by a Hong Kong author who has lived in Beijing for a decade is quite phenomenal. Set in 2013's Beijing, the story follows Mr. Chen, a writer whose life experience and surname resemble that of the author, as he attempts to track down and pursue the frequently disappearing love of his life, a marginalized woman named Xiaoxi who distrusts the government and whose son is a Party informant. Meanwhile, Chen's old acquaintance, Fang Chaodi, a man in his mid-60s with a complex background, involves Xiaoxi in a different kind of search – for a lost month from the spring of 2011. Both efforts are unpopular and run into political and social obstacles. Suspicious of the government's foul play, Fang, Xiaoxi and another friend eventually kidnap a Party politburo member for questioning. In the novel's final revelations, we learn that there have been 28 bloody days preceding China's prosperous time. However, though the Chinese government has in fact done tricks to successfully create prosperity at a time of world doom, the populace's selective memory loss is not due to one such trick.

What sets the novel apart is its attempt at maintaining an Orwellian perspective against the one-party autocracy while bringing the setting up-to-date: the dark gruesome milieu in Orwell's 1984 is replaced with a jubilant celebratory mood. This proves to be both an accomplishment and a challenge for the plot. The storyline hangs together well for most of the book, but falls short in the end. It seems as if the author had set out to tackle the paradox of why an authoritarian government should be advocated by the majority of people, but ends up being persuaded by his own antagonist of the regime's legitimacy. Part of this weakness might have been caused by missed opportunities in the plot, for which I will attempt a more detailed analysis in a formal review. Despite this neo-Orwellian novel's unintended counter-Orwellian ending, it nonetheless leaves the reader troubled by the possibility of widespread public support for a non-democratic regime and thus the failure of democracy's universal value.

Update: related link - "The Return of Politically Charged Science Fiction in China" (Foreign Policy)

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Food to Die For

In the March 1st issue of the New Yorker, the most fun piece to read is "Where's Chang?" by Calvin Trillin. Despite being a big eater of Szechuan (Sichuan) cuisine, I'd never heard of Peter Chang before, but I’ve converted to a "Changian" afterwards. :-) I also didn't know a restaurant critic's writing could be as delicious as the food –  just read Todd Kliman's description of Chang's Roast Fish:
…really, a heaping plate of expertly fried fish, dusted with cumin, topped off with chopped ginger, fried parsley and diced chilies and served in a thatched bamboo pouch.
And John Binkley's comment on an off-the-menu special provided by Chang:
…crispy eggplant cut like French fries and salt-fried with scallion greens, a hint of cumin, and hot pepper. To die for!
Why not.  From now on I'll be searching for Peter Chang whenever I travel.

Calvin Trillin is such a poised essayist, who is capable of turning a food piece into a thriller. This essay about Peter Chang is structured like a detective story, following each clue from Chang's frequent disappearances and his loyal followers' persistent efforts at tracking him down.  

Those eaters' faithful following of Chang's authentic cooking seems to indicate an increasingly more sophisticated taste for Chinese food among Americans. As a Sichuanese living in New England, one thing I hate the most is the pervasive existence of take-out places that produce Americanized, fake Sichuan food. Whenever I hear an American praising that kind of food I immediately get a toothache. Worse, the majority of Sichuan chefs fall into the awful demand trap and cater to American’s taste expectations; as a consequence it has become very hard to find great Sichuan cuisine in the Boston area.

Fortunately, as I mentioned in a previous post, an excellent newcomer in the Framingham area is Red Pepper, whose chef is a down-to-earth Chongqing man nick-named Old Black, who really knows how to cook. He doesn't use cumin often, as cumin was not commonly used in traditional Sichuan dishes, but Red Pepper does offer a dish named "Cumin Flavored Beef with Chili Sauce," which sounds like a variation of something that might be on Peter Chang's menu. It tastes great.

Even Red Pepper sometimes caters to American tastes. When we lived in Sichuan, one dish Bob and I loved was Dan-Dan Noodles. Naturally that was the first thing we ordered from Red Pepper. The noodles tasted not bad, but were unlike their Chongqing namesake, without even the signature ingredient of sesame butter. The manager told us "Americans don't like real Dan-Dan Noodles," so they modified it.  Thankfully, under our persistence, they’ve added back the sesame.

On a related note, if you are interested in international recipes, it might be worth checking out Matthew Lubin's blog The Laowai Kitchen, written in both English and Chinese.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Where and What to Eat for Chinese New Year

Today is the lunar New Year's Eve and tomorrow starts the year of the Tiger. It is the Chinese tradition to have a great feast today (and for three contiguous days) to celebrate. If you are in the great Boston area, I recommend two restaurants that are the best for Sichuan cuisine:

  • Red Pepper (重庆食府), (508) 620-9998, 17 Edgell Road, Framingham, MA (off Rt. 9)
  • Chili Garden (川王府), (781) 396-8488, 41 Riverside Ave, Medford, MA
We are going with a bunch of friends to one of them. Can't wait!

One of the must-have traditional New Year dishes is smoked pork (腊肉). The restaurants above smoke the pork themselves to make this wonderful dish and it tastes great. Also, when you go to any Chinese restaurant, don't forget to ask if they have sweet-rice balls (汤圆), a must-have dessert to celebrate the New Year. Not every Chinese restaurant offers it, but good ones should.

 
smoked pork 

sweet-rice balls in rice-wine


四川凉粉 (Sichuan's cold rice noodles)

By the way, my old townsfolk in Chongqing believe a Tiger Year will be severe. I don't think the young generation would buy that. Apparently the older generations have a more pessimistic world view.

Among all the Tiger Years I have lived through, the one that stands out is 1974.  In January that year I finished high school, without any graduation ceremony. In May I was sent down to the countryside as an "insert," and labored in the fields with peasants for nearly four years, until universities re-started in spring 1978.  Life was really harsh in the countryside. But unlike many of my peers, I don't resent that time. I treasure that experience; it opened my eyes to the reality of how people at the bottom of society lived. One of the stories in my book Apologies Forthcoming, "Disciple of the Masses," has parts based on my own experience. Check it out.

Happy New Year everyone!

Monday, February 8, 2010

Turning Winds in Chongqing's Crackdown

Have you ever heard a Chinese adage "Going too far is as bad as not going far enough" (过犹不及)?

Chongqing people's attitude toward the campaign of crackdown on gangsters is changing. A little more than a month ago, when I called friends in Chongqing, I heard genuine praise of Bo Xilai and the crackdown he led. Now people either speak hesitantly or refuse to give an opinion.

A few days ago an American journalist reporting on the crackdown wrote me from Chongqing, asking for help finding local people to interview, so I called a few Chongqing friends who I think might have something to say. One friend first could barely contain her discontent with the latest death sentences and then politely turned down my request. "We'd better not talk about this sensitive topic," she said. "We don't want to get any trouble." Her words surprised me because not long ago she had happily praised the crackdown.  

The second friend said, "If speaking truthfully [about the crackdown], then everyone has psychological hindrance. If speaking untruthfully, then what's the point?" His conclusion: better not speak at all.

The third person advised me to stay away from politics (remotely familiar advice I haven't heard expressed since the early 1980s!). "Don't you see the left wind in the media all the time now? Sweep yellow [porn], crackdown black [gang crime]. But what's yellow what's black is not up to us laobaixing [ordinary names] to decide. We are afraid to be trapped again, like the anti-rightist campaign in the '50s. Chinese know about fear. Things now don't smell right; to involve one more thing is not as good as to involve one less."

All those people are ordinary citizens not in any important position. I haven't seen this amount of fear for quite some time. In Chongqing, this seemed to have begun with the Li Zhuang case, with which Bo Xilai's image is turning from that of an enlightened leader to a Maoist despot. He might be neither, but the campaign-style move is what frightens people, because it recalls bad memories of the Mao era. Only the youngsters who have no knowledge of (and are not told about) that time stay enthusiastic – and this is equally scary.


There is also a rumor that Bo Xilai might be out of favor with the central Party, because his name did not show up in a recent high-rank event where all other politbureau members appeared. This seems to me more a wish than concrete evidence.  Analyzing name appearances in the media was what people used during the Cultural Revolution to guess which direction the political wind would blow, much like technical analysis is used on Wall Street to guess which way the stock market will move. Neither is really predictable, but the return of such guesswork in politics may be another warning sign.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

What Are Li Zhuang and the Chongqing Government Up to?

Like most, at first I was surprised that lawyer Li Zhuang opened his February 2 appeal hearing by admitting to the crime of fabricating evidence for his alleged gangster client.  Only a few weeks ago, Li had made a vehement and heroic proclamation that he was willing to exchange his freedom for progress in China's rule of law.  His unexpected admission of guilt shocked not only his numerous supporters (mostly people outside of Chongqing) and defense lawyers, but even the prosecutor.

Part of the initial confusion, though, came from a few media outlets' early reports that included Li's words for abolishing the reasons for his appeal but omitted any mention of his insistence on keeping the appeal. I wouldn't be surprised if this omission was intentional. It gave the false impression that Li Zhuang was withdrawing his appeal all together. The predictable consequence was that many of Li's supporters, who had made Li a sort of hero, got very upset by his "betrayal." 

However, as more complete coverage from independent media such as the Economic Observer appeared, it becomes evident that Li did not admit guilt genuinely, and that he tried to present obvious clues to that effect wherever he could. Here's a small example: at one point, when examined by the prosecutor on how he incited Gong Gangmo, his client, to fabricate evidence of torture, Li said he leaned over an iron bar and whispered into to Gong's ear. This is in complete contradiction to what Gong had told the court and CCTV, that Li gave him hints by "blinking his eyes."  Later, Li's defense lawyer asked a police guard whether there was an iron bar in that room, and the witness said "no." When it was Li Zhuang's turn to question one witness, he asked, "Now there are two versions of how the 'fabrication' took place, so which is true?"  Aha! He had created the 2nd version himself in order to ask this question. Though the witness evaded the question by answering "I don't know," Li fulfilled his purpose in revealing conflicting evidence.

Li Zhaung in court (photo from eeo.com.cn)

I'm now convinced that Li was forced to admit quilt in exchange for a more favorable sentencing from the appeal court. In previous posts I said that the hurried arrest of Li Zhuang had actually put the Chongqing government on the defensive (in fact I would now say it's "riding a tiger and hard to get off" or "骑虎难下"), and that if the government wanted a less damaging way out they could declare Li guilty without giving him jail time. However the lower court that held the 1st trial missed the opportunity. I didn't expect that judge to be smart or courageous enough to do it anyway. But apparently now someone higher up is recognizing the damage and trying to find a ladder off the stage (or tiger back). 

As part of the strategy change, the court has allowed six witnesses to appear for the prosecutor, which is in sharp contrast to the first trial when there were none. Is this progress toward the rule of law? Not really. It shows the government's desire to please criticizers and prove its own legitimacy. I would have given them credit if they hadn't done things so stupidly, but in the court, the answers (or methods used to evade answering the defense questions) from all the witnesses were so uniform it points to a certain kind of training prior to the trial.  I'd say it's kind of the court's trying to outsmart itself (弄巧成拙). Without judicial independence, no strategy can really help.

Meanwhile, Wang Lijun, the current police head who is credited with carrying out Chongqing's crackdown on gangsters, and apparently also the strategist behind Li Zhuang's arrest,  gave a surprising interview to The Beijing News that appeared on Feb. 2, the day of Li Zhuang's 2nd trial and Wen Qiang's first trial. Wang said that the evaluation of his predecessor Wen Qiang, Chongqing's highest official involved in "organized crime," should respect history, and that Wen "has many merits, made many contributions." It's odd that such positive comments should appear on the day of two heavyweight trials. It looks more like an effort to show his (and the government's) objectiveness. Why the need for such a show?  Because the Li Zhuang case has brought pressures from the outside public for Chongqing to prove the legitimacy of its crackdown practice. Wang had never made a public speech about the crackdown. He couldn't (or was unwilling to) soften the accusations against Li Zhuang, so he said some good words about Wen Qiang instead.  The timing of this interview shows it's a retreat, a compromise, just like Li Zhuang's admission of guilt. In this case the two sides are trying to reach a solution in which the government loses less face and Li Zhuang gets less jail time.

Why would Li Zhuang accept such a deal if he's not actually guilty?  Well, why not? The Chinese have sayings like "A great man can bend or stretch" and "a wise man knows how not to take imminent trouble." History provides no shortage of examples from greater people.  No need to look too far: as recent as Deng Xiaoping, the helmsman of China's economic reform, who wrote not once but three times to Chairman Mao during the Cultural Revolution, to self-criticize, admit guilt in straying from Mao's revolutionary line, and promise that he would never ever try to turn the guilty verdict around. (Li Zhuang's promise to the court that he would never revoke his guilt admission certainly recalls Deng's story.)  Deng's strategy and persistence eventually worked, and Mao stopped his punishment. That's how Deng was able to turn China around later. Whether Deng had broken his integrity is anyone's take.  I will leave the question of whether China's economic success today justifies Deng's "bend" to historians, but personally, I would be more willing to say "yes" if Deng hadn't also shown his ability of "stretch" by giving the order to shoot students, something even Mao hadn't done.

There is a more well-known tale called "humiliation under crotch."  Han Xin was the greatest Han Dynasty general. When he was young, he once ran into a gang of local thugs on a bridge. The thugs teased him about his aspiration to become a general, and the thug's leader ordered Han Xin to choose between crawling under his crotch and being stabbed. Han Xin chose the former. He survived and, true to his wish, grew up to be one of the greatest generals in China's history. This tale of his youth has since become an admonition for Chinese man to take humiliation for a greater cause.

Li Zhuang might have accepted the humiliating deal for his family and his own freedom, not necessarily for a greater cause. If there is a wrong in this, it is more the government's than Li Zhuang's. It's truly sad that he had to go through this.

It's likely that Li Zhuang may get a reduced sentence. At this point, however, unless the court admits that the evidence against Li Zhuang is inadequate, there will be no gain for the government's image or credibility. Before Li Zhuang's case the crackdown in Chongqing had enjoyed almost universal praise, now the clamor for procedural justice is on the rise. This, is what's significant.  #

Related posts:

Lawyer's Trial in Chongqing Rivets Public and Tests Chinese Courts
The People vs. Li Zhuang (2009)
Fortune or Calamity? A Gift for Chongqing's Indicted Police Chief

Monday, February 1, 2010

The Cultural Revolution Complex in Contemporary Chinese Art

…How the once brutal real suffering has now become romantic imaginary suffering
By Chen Dehong

[Note: I find the author's summary and criticism of contemporary Chinese art from the late 1970s to present involving the Cultural Revolution extremely interesting and well-formed. Translated with occasional comments (in italic) and annotation added. Original post is slightly longer with a few more images shown. – Xujun] (XNZKZXA4YWZH)

"x/x/1968, snowing" by Cheng Conglin (1979)

The Cultural Revolution ended 30 some years ago, but contemporary Chinese art continues to make a matter of it, as if it wouldn't be contemporary if the CR were not addressed. Reflections on, or utilization of, the CR requires a serious analysis.

1. "Scar Art" Launched the First Wave Displaying the CR

It marked the starting point of China's contemporary art.

"Why" by Gao Xiaohua (1978)

Representative works include Cheng Conglin's "x/x/1968, Snowing," Gao Xiaohua's "Why" and other works reflecting "armed fighting." He Duoling produced "Youth" in the 1980s, which became the epilogue of that wave. Scar art's attention to the CR has artists' commemorating and lamenting their brutal youth; though more of individual experiences, it was in tune with the time's rethinking. Scar art lacks deep reflection on the CR; it uses victim pathos to touch the audience, but is only superficial in its rethinking. At that time this was already difficult and valuable, but its obvious limitations come to show as time goes by.

[I don't completely agree – I view those works as deeper than most of their later counterparts. I still remember how, as a college student, I first saw He Duoling's oil painting "We Once Sang This Song", and how the feeling of shock it caused in me lasted for years. There wasn't  obvious "victim pathos" in that painting, only the scene of a bunch of young "zhi-qing" – city youth sent down to the countryside – singing a song, yet its impact was profound.  –  Xujun]

"We Once Sang This Song" by He Duoling (1980)

2. Early Trend of Modern Art in Reflecting CR

Part of the works in the "Stars" art exhibition [in 1980] criticized the CR's totalitarianism from a democratic perspective; the "Great House Head" series produced by southwest "stream of life" artist Mao Xudong echoed this trend. They touched the core issue of the CR, that is, the intrinsic connection between the CR and China's feudal dictatorships. This trend clashed with the mainstream ideology then; its artistic method is symbolic and metaphoric. This also reflected the sprouting of democratic awareness in the 1980s' ideological liberation movement.
(title and author unknown) "Idol" by Wang Keping (1979)

"Great House Head" by Mao Xuhui (1991)

3. Utilization of CR Symbols in Political Pop Art

This is represented by Wang Guangyi and Zhang Xiaogang.   Wang Guangyi's work directly borrows from posters of the "great criticism" era. It is a kind of commemoration of an unforgettable past; however, in reality, the big shift to a market economy makes that past more and more remote.  Wang Guangyi forcefully pulls that past back in sight, but he also realizes the irreconcilable conflict between the two. Is it a better choice to have Coca-Cola advertisements replace "great criticism" posters? [Good question.] It is difficult for us to give a positive answer. Wang Guangyi's work reflected the Chinese people's bafflement.

"Great Criticism" by Wang Guangyi (2003)

Zhang Xiaogang's "Big Family" series entered Chinese's collective subconscious. These yellowed old pictures induce a melancholic mood of nostalgia, like the melody of an old phonograph record that can't be waved away. This category of political pop art has been mistakenly interpreted as an insinuation of China's political reality, and improperly analogized with ex-USSR's political pop art, by some Westerners. [Interesting.]

"Big Family" by Zhang Xiaogang (1993)

 4. Satire Use of CR Images in Cynical Realism and Vulgar Artwork

The 1989 rumpus [i.e., the Tiananmen massacre] is the background of those works, which focus on China's social reality rather than historical rethinking. They have been labeled as "post 89", and show a political attitude through teasing those once sacred political symbols and images. In dispelling the lofty and disassembling grand narratives, they show a kind of criticalness; however such criticalness is more like a seasoning spice, its cynical attitude refuting serious thought. Thus these works often reduce to a superficial teasing of ideology, their awkward status of "embassy art” based on denying one ideology while having to rely on a different ideological pivot. [Well said.]
 

5. Post-80 Generation's Utilization of CR Images


The post-80 generation was born in the reform era after the CR, and they don't have the direct experience of CR like the "zhi-qing" (the sent-down youth) and Red Guards did. To them the CR was an incomprehensible comedy. CR symbols are cool extraordinary fashion as well as the art market's popular Chinese card. Using their familiar cartoon style to treat the CR symbols becomes those artists' common strategy.

6. Commercial Interest

Driven by commercial interests, the opportunistic use of CR symbols is largely a petty speculation of the art market. Those works completely lack the spirit and point of cultural criticism; all they present is shallow consumption and desire.




7. Middle-Aged Artists' Rethinking and Recalling

The 30th anniversary of the end of the CR [in 2006] was a symbolic time. The CR was again remembered. As a reflection of the society's mentality, the impulse to nail the coffin and give a final assessment of the CR is understandable.  Furthermore, the mainstream ideology's meticulous avoidance caused a backfire. The rethinking of the CR from middle-aged intellectuals broke through personal experience and rose to historical significance, restoring that history's heaviness and tragic nature. However, this rethinking more often than not stopped at ceremonial commemoration, not raising new questions, and often encounters a double misread from both power and capital.

Xu Weixin's "Chinese Historical Figures: 1966-1976," Sui Jianguo's "The Legacy Mantle," and Liu Yong's "Comrades" etc. are representative of this trend.


"Comrades" by Liu Yong (2006)

Conclusion

The Cultural Revolution was China's most enthusiastic and dreamy time, and it was also a time of broken dreams. In our lofty sentiments and happiness under brilliant sunshine, what we lived through was actually an unprecedented catastrophe. Contemporary new Confucians view the cleft in Chinese culture as formed by the May 4th movement [in 1919], but in fact following May 4th was a period of cultural prosperity with all-inclusive cultural trends and thought schools, which established the foundation of modern Chinese culture. But in the Mao era, especially during the CR, we abandoned traditional culture and denied foreign culture, everyone taking pride for being a rough uneducated person, culture falling into a deep abyss. That, was the real cleft of Chinese culture. […]

Today the CR remains a carefully guarded topic. The CR is far from entering history and still linked in a thousand ways to present China. Politics is an art of compromise. Deng Xiaoping oversaw Chinese society's rapid transmission to a new track without getting overly entangled with past issues. Today, despite China's great economic progress, it still faces huge pressure in its development as well as severe social conflicts.   Though the CR has ended for 30 years, historical truth still hasn't been completely revealed. It is not yet time to deliver the final assessment. Temporary avoidance is the practical choice for the incumbent party; however for intellectuals as a collective to rethink the CR is not necessarily a conflict. The first requirement, for such rethinking to have significance and strength, is that it must reach the level of rational historical judgment.

In the post-CR era, in China's art field, the CR has gradually changed from a serious social tragedy to an entertaining comedy for a consumer society. How we commemorate the CR today is a question Chinese can't avoid!!!  Fu Lei once said, "Only real suffering, is capable of driving out romantic imaginary suffering; only the brave tragedy of overcoming suffering, can help us to bear brutal fate; only when we hold the spirit of 'If not I to hell, then who?', can a dispirited and selfish nation be saved."  Fu Lei committed suicide in the CR; he took the hellish way to warn and try to save the nation he loved. However, he would not know that the once brutal real suffering has now become a romantic imaginary suffering, and what a dispirited and selfish soul today's Chinese have. [A powerful statement.]

The Cultural Revolutionunable to get aroundnot daring to face up;  no way to dispel; unwilling to forgeta thousand contradicting and complex feelings buried in the heart.#

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Past and Present Significance of the Cultural Revolution

by Michael Geracie  

[Introduction: I am very impressed and touched by this essay, written by a college senior in Physics. Not only is it well-written, but it demonstrates the discerning eyes of a thoughtful reader.  It gives me hope for the young generation. In addition to Michael's carefully laid-out analysis of the stories and characters, which is very interesting, please pay special attention to his conclusion, which catches the nuance of one of the book's main themes. Posted with permission. -- Xujun]

In Apologies Forthcoming, Xujun Eberlein presents a number of perspectives on the Cultural Revolution. In “Disciple of the Masses,” the reader observes the changing personal meaning of the Cultural Revolution in Shanzi as she realizes a more sophisticated view of her place in China’s political and economic framework. Belatedly, “She saw a reality that would never be taught in school. Sorrow overtook her, and she whispered to no one, ‘I’m sorry…’”. In “Disciple,” this new insight is lost forever, but in “Second Encounter,” the reader is shown how this realization of shame creates both tentative hope and enduring difficulties for all who live with its memory. The author explores the Cultural Revolution’s significance not only across social and gender boundaries, but also across time, illustrating a dynamic picture of meaning that helps the reader understand the Cultural Revolution both as an immediate experience, and as a shared historical tragedy with current and future implications.
In the closing of the book, Wei Dong notes “only those who survive the waste can understand”, and indeed, in “Disciple of the Masses,” Eberlein presents a detailed and messy picture of understanding in transformation, catalyzed by an environment of unremitting tragedy. In the course of the chapter, Shanzi’s confident commitment to revolution develops into a more sophisticated appreciation of the social, political, and economic conflicts within China. However, her story is also characterized by a singular resistance to this change, as Shanzi becomes an unwitting perpetrator of tragedy before recognizing it in the lives of those around her.
Interestingly, Shanzi is portrayed as a highly observant individual. She repeatedly notes the telling details of life in Lily Village, the evidence of suffering. However, her capacity for observation is neutralized by her inability or unwillingness to analyze her environment. When Shanzi first encounters Secretary Xia, she can immediately tell he “had never worked in the fields”. Yet, late into the chapter, she’s still hesitant to view his treatment of the villagers as unfair. Even after nearly a year of observation, “she needed more time to think” before accepting the existence of the social conflict she’s beginning to see.
This superficial nature is immediately apparent in the reader’s introduction to Shanzi. When Mr. Tan asks her why she is being sent to the countryside, he effectively probes her understanding of her role in current events. Again, Shanzi’s interpretation is shallow; she doesn’t even understand the point of asking, as the movement is “mandatory”. While certainly aware of her situation, she does not question or analyze, simply accepting what she’s told to do. Once in Lily Village, her initial ignorance, though understandable, is highly reluctant to give way. Eberlein’s division of the chapter into “seasons” reminds the reader of the sheer amount of time passed, and Shanzi’s delay comes across as even more striking. As soon as the “Summer” marker passes, the reader is aware Shanzi has spent at least two full seasons immersed in peasant life, yet is asking for expensive delicacies and wildly inappropriate questions such as, “do you always have watery gruel?” When Zhou Sixth mentions “public rice eaters” affinity for lotus root, Shanzi’s response “I like them too” shows she does not yet view herself as part of the crisis of want surrounding her.

"Youth" (oil paining by my friend He Duoling)

Shanzi’s eventual realization of the social and economic conflicts surrounding her is thus accompanied by the shock that she’s been a part of them all along. When “the caveman” begins to breach Shanzi’s carefully constructed worldview, she initially refers to an enemy “they,” responsible for China’s deterioration. The correction to “us” profoundly disturbs Shanzi. For her, as with many of the characters in Apologies Forthcoming, the lessons of the Cultural Revolution do not only change their view of the times, or of China, but bear deep personal significance and abiding pain. In the end, “I’m sorry” apologizes not only for informing Secretary Xia of Lily Village’s grain production, but for being part of oppression she didn’t understand.
In “Disciple of the Masses,” Shanzi’s experience is a tragic example of not only loss of potential, symbolized by the unsolved Goldbach’s Conjecture, but loss of memory and learning. However, Wei Dong carries a similar realization to the present, giving him the opportunity to consider the meaning of the Cultural Revolution to both himself and future generations with no direct memory of it. In particular, Wei Dong’s experience in “Second Encounter” shows the enduring difficulties of those that survived the Cultural Revolution. Even before Wei Dong encounters Zhang, he expresses fear of a “mainlander who would not hesitate to lay ambush for a fellow Chinese”. Though Wei Dong seems a model of forgiveness and change, his memory of the Cultural Revolution haunts him with anxiety and mistrust.
In light of Wei Dong’s concerns over future generations repeating the catastrophe of the Cultural Revolution, his difficulty in discussing the past is quite threatening. In his final ruminations, Wei Dong mentions how passing through the Cultural Revolution may have been necessary to understand his own ignorance. However, shortly thereafter, he decides to stop thinking about it. Though he recognizes the necessity of remembering his shame, he is nonetheless quite resistant to actually doing so. This is more powerfully demonstrated throughout his discussions with Zhang. Despite Zhang’s openness, Wei Dong is reluctant to share any information, or even partake in the meal. When Zhang asks Wei Dong for his motivation in freeing him, Wei Dong deflects the question.
Thus, though Apologies Forthcoming shows hope for the future, that hope is portrayed dubiously, as the understanding requisite for future progress is necessarily accompanied by shame. While the shame itself may be a positive influence, the magnitude of the crimes of the Cultural Revolution enhances it to such an extent so as to choke Wei Dong’s attempts to discuss it. When current events remind Wei Dong of his own crimes, “his hands sweat cold”. As distant as the Cultural Revolution may be in place and time, its memory still bears acute significance, enough so to elicit a physical reaction.
At the same time, Wei Dong possesses a remarkable ability to examine his experience. When Zhang recounts the armed fight ‘8.31’, Wei Dong is clearly tense, checking nearby tables, goosebumps rising from the details. Though his emotions are heightened, his thoughts and questions show him approaching the situation with outward detachment. He patiently waits out Zhang’s dramatic presentation of events, carefully confirming the details. Repeatedly, Wei Dong nonverbally verifies Zhang’s account: his superstition, his numerical accuracy. In a number of instances, Wei Dong assesses the motivations of himself and his team. He also attempts to reevaluate the story’s personal significance, asking Zhang if his team killed others after he was freed. Eberlein takes care to note that through all this, Wei Dong holds his cup steadily.
Both “Second Encounter” and “Disciple of the Masses” are stories about realizing the painful realities of the Cultural Revolution. The opening quote connects the stories in this way. Between the two, Eberlein presents the Cultural Revolution as a continuing learning process, viewed from two different times. One story is looking back on the Cultural Revolution while the other lives in it, but both reflect on it. For Shanzi, her newfound awareness is a personal shock,not only upending her scholastic paradigm but elucidating her involvement in the structure of social and economic oppression surrounding her. Even as the surrounding catastrophe enables this realization, it consumes her. However, Wei Dong’s story explores the unique opportunity survivors of the Cultural Revolution have to put these lessons to use. His recognition of his own learning and of the necessity of its continuance show how the Cultural Revolution will and should remain a part of the public consciousness. However, the difficulty with which he endures it exposes lasting challenges to present and future generations. By considering the Cultural Revolution from both perspectives, Eberlein shows its lasting significance and more completely probes its complex meaning to a variety of audiences.

Friday, January 22, 2010

The Oct. 15 "Counter-Revolution" Incident in Chongqing

This is rather bizarre news to me: on October 15, 2009, a "national conference" was held in Wansheng, Chongqing, by the "Chinese Communist Party (Maoist)," or "中国共产党(毛泽东主义)"(简称"毛共"). All (34) attendees were arrested by police. 

I read this in the latest issue of Remembrance, or <记忆>, a Chinese newsletter dedicated to Cultural Revolution (CR) research in China. The above news appeared in a brief report titled "Ten Things in 2009 Related to the CR," because "many of the participants in 'CCP (Maoist)' were Rebellion members during the CR." The CCP (Maoist) "only recognizes CCP's 9th and 10th Congresses that were held during the CR; they were arranging the so-called '11th CCP Congress'."

For the record, the actual CCP's latest Congress was the 17th, held in October 2007.

I searched the Chinese internet for media coverage, but found only the following two blog posts:

1. "Ten things in 2009 related to CR"  (2009年与文革有关的十件事)
2. "Chongqing's Oct. 15 counter-revolution incident" (重庆1015反革命事件)

The first one is the same report I saw in Remembrance, but the blogger's name, Bai Lei, is different from the byline ("Bian Du") printed in the newsletter. It could be a pen name, I guess.

The second post appeared on a leftist website www.mzdsx.cn, which gives some details of the incident: the participants were "old comrades" and the leader's name was Ma Houzhi; more than 150 armed police suddenly attacked and shots were fired; 24 of the arrested participants were detained for 10 days, and the remaining ten were still in jail waiting to be sentenced. But you have to muddle through its overwhelming CR language to get the details. It's not a pleasant read, I tell you.

Note the term "counter-revolution incident" in the post's title: it does not refer to the conference; it refers to the police raid of the conference. The words sent a shiver through me, as if the Cultural Revolution was coming back all over again.

Who are those people? What are they up to?

When I asked, a Chongqing friend who knew about this told me that the "CCP (Maoist)" has developed two "party groups" (党小组) in Chongqing. All are old factory workers in their 60s- 70s, who had played small roles as Rebellion members during the CR. "You know how muddled those people's minds are?" My friend wrote, "They couldn't even say who 'Teacher Ma' was after being inducted by him into his party, and they just followed him to 'do revolution'! Truly laughable, yet sigh-worthy. On the other hand, it goes to show that Mao's way still has its places at the lower level of society."

Having spent my childhood and part of my youth during the CR, my first reaction to the news was that those people were insane. What for? But I really shouldn't be so surprised. A few years ago when I interviewed ex-Red Guard leaders, one of them, now in his 60s, told me that if he could make enough money he'd build a dissident party truly Marxist-Leninist. The unsaid words: the CCP today aren't really that. I couldn't tell if he was serious or it was just words to impress his audience (me). I'd thought it might be a reflection of nostalgia for his Red Guard youth, a sentiment many other ex-Red Guards displayed during my interviews. Now apparently someone else – some Teacher Ma – was carrying out the idea he was unable to.


Huaxi Village


It was during those interviews in 2006 that I heard, for the first time, of a place called Huaxi Village. The ex-Red Guard who wanted to build a dissident party told me Huaxi Village is an example of true Communism and people there are having a great life. "You must go see it to know what I'm saying," he urged. He got me really curious, and I thought about making the trip. It turned out my younger sister, Maple, an avid traveler, had already visited Huaxi Village at the time. If your purpose is to talk to the villagers, Maple told me, then forget about it. They are not allowed to talk to any outsiders. (That did sound like "true Communism" to me.) Though it was a bit far, I didn't completely give up on the idea of visiting until one day I saw a big photo of the Huaxi Village, in which every house, relatively upscale as they all are, looks exactly the same.

In any case, as a writer I'm still interested in exploring the mentality and motivation of those "CCP (Maoist)" members. Meanwhile, another curious question comes to mind: don't those leftist people have the same human rights as the democratic dissidents do? If so, why haven't I seen any protests against their arrests from human rights groups?

Related articles:



Saturday, January 16, 2010

Communist Spies at Google China?

Have fun and read this amusing version of the Google predicament story.  Clicking on the Chinese link results in a message "only the author can read this post." Predictably though, a Google search with the Chinese title "google事件真相(ZT)" finds copies on the internet. This time, the copies I saw were on a few Taiwan-based sites.

Did a CCP mole among Google.cn's Chinese employees caused the whole crisis? It sounds plausible. I was almost convinced when I read the English translation last night. However reading the Chinese version today I saw the term "tg" (="土共") in it, and that tells me the post was written by a Taiwanese. A mainland Chinese almost certainly would not use such a term, no matter how strongly he opposes the CCP. This probably also explains why copies of the post have appeared on Taiwan-based websites so far.

In any case, the author could be a good fiction writer. It is an intriging story. To have the original post disappear is also a good way to whet the readers' appitite.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

The People vs. Li Zhuang (2009)


The most unusual thing about the Li Zhuang case might be the sharp disparity between local people's reaction and that of the elites around the world.  By now major English media outlets have all reported on Li's sentence of 2.5 years, and almost without exception, questioned the justice of it.

But not the public of Chongqing. Yesterday I got an email from my older sister, a retired clerk living in Chongqing with a teenage son. She wrote, "Lawyer Li Zhuang practices law and breaks the law intentionally, his sentence is too light!" Coincidentally, just that morning I had spoken to a Chongqing friend on the phone. The friend, a senior physician, said that no one he knew had any sympathy whatsoever for Li Zhuang.  "So how do people feel about the crackdown on gangsters?" "All support it of course," he said. He went on to say public security and social order have improved since the crackdown began. As an example, he mentioned a friend's private clinic that he helped to set up. Before the crackdown, the clinic was extorted by gangsters for "protection fees," but those gangsters have disappeared now. He expressed surprise when I mentioned broad sympathy for Li Zhuang outside of Chongqing. "People here don't have good impressions of lawyers in general," he said. "Lawyers care only about money. Who pays more, is who they help."

Personally, I didn't think Li Zhuang's trial and sentence made a lot of sense. The arrest was too hurried and the evidence was weak. It does not bode well for Bo Xilai's image. Realistically, given the lack of judicial independence in China, I did not expect a fair trial. A judge "within the system," no matter how good he is, can't turn the system around overnight. But limiting the harm to society is still possible. Before Li's sentencing on Jan. 8th, I'd thought there might be a practical way out for the local court, that is, it could deliver a guilty verdict without jail time. I was disappointed, and I thought the judge missed the chance to become a "hero" of some sort.

Now in light of the local people's reaction opposite to what we read in media outside of Chongqing, I realized that the judge might not have merely chosen to be the government's gun. He might have felt that he was indeed doing the right thing for his people.

All this tells me that there is still a long, long way to go for China to become a truly "law-governed society," using the ironical title of the section in China Youth Daily where the first (and biased) report on the Li Zhuang case appeared.


Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Lawyer's Trial in Chongqing Rivets Public and Tests Chinese Courts

New America Media, news analysis, Xujun Eberlein, Published: Jan. 5, 2010

China's eventful 2009 ended with another controversial episode: a record-length trial in the widely observed case of Li Zhuang, a prominent criminal defense lawyer from Beijing. Li is accused of  fabricating evidence for his gangster client. The trial opened at 9:10 a.m. on December 30 at a local court in the city of Chongqing, with a heated argument between prosecutors and the defense team that lasted for 16 hours. The session adjourned at 1:03a.m. on Dec. 31. No verdict has yet been delivered, and a tense debate between news media, legal circles, and Internet commentators continues.

The Li case might seem minor, but taking place during Chongqing's powerful campaign to crackdown on organized crime, it could set an important precedent. While the prosecution has been criticized by legal experts, there is great local, popular support for a guilty verdict, and the trial’s outcome could affect progress in China toward judicial independence.



The case developed surprisingly fast. On November 22, Li was hired by the wife of alleged organized crime leader, Gong Gangmo, who faced accusations of murder, illegal weapons trade, drug dealing, and running a criminal organization. Li flew from Beijing to Chongqing and met his client three times on Nov. 24, 26, and Dec. 4. According to Li, each time he had arguments with the police who insisted on being present during the interviews.

Eighteen days after Li took on his client, on Dec. 10, Gong reported to the police that his lawyer was trying to fake evidence that he had been tortured. (Gong's action was later commented upon by legal experts as being "extremely unusual." Gong claimed that he did it in order to gain sufficient credit to avoid the death penalty.) Two days later, on Dec. 12, Chongqing police flew to Beijing and arrested Li, where he was visiting Gong’s wife in the hospital. According to reports, he was informing Gong’s wife that he was dropping the case. The next day, Li's arrest was formally approved by Chongqing's Procuratorate.

On Dec. 14, a major national newspaper, China Youth Daily, published the first news report on Li's arrest, written by the chief editor of the paper's "law-governed society" section. The article detailed Gong Gangmo's motivation for reporting on his own lawyer, and how Li obtained high legal fees from Gong – 1.5 million yuan (U.S. $220,000). The report portrayed Li as a greedy and malevolent lawyer. It stated that, on an investigation initiated by the "Chongqing crackdown leadership group," his crime of fabricating evidence and blocking justice had been clearly established by the collaborative work of the police, procuratorate, court, and Judicial Bureau.

The report caused such strong controversial reactions from supporters and contenders alike that the editor was stunned. She was quoted as saying it was, by far, the strongest response "in the 15 years of my journalist career."

Support for the partial report – and Li's arrest – came mainly from Chongqing netizens. To date, the crackdown on gangsters and government corruption has gained the city government and its leader, Bo Xilai, strong popular approval. The overwhelming majority of internet comments from Chongqing expressed anger at Li for "rescuing" a heinous criminal and making big money so doing. They believed that Li acted to impede justice and that he should be punished for it.

On the other hand, the chief voices in Beijing's legal circles, including many law offices and universities' law schools, strongly questioned the legitimacy of the reported evidence and article 306 of criminal law, which provided the basis for Li's arrest. They viewed his conversations with his client as nothing beyond a defense lawyer's standard practice and duty. They criticized the China Youth Daily article for partiality and fanning public sentiment against a man who has not been proved guilty.

In media circles, Chongqing's newspapers and web portals uniformly condemned Li, with most of their arguments based on the justice of the crackdown on gangsters. In contrast, more independent newspapers, such as those of the Nangfang Daily network and The Beijing News, tended to be more neutral,  and occasionally displayed sympathy for Li. After Li’s trial, the aforementioned reporter of China Youth Daily published another story. Perhaps having learned a lesson from readers' criticism, this time the article exercised caution in using derogatory language. However its biases against Li were not completely hidden.

Also worth noting is that several well-known Chinese dissidents used their Twitter posts to publicly support Li Zhuang, and criticize the Chongqing government.

All this made Li Zhuang's trial on Dec. 30 widely watched. Still, no clear conclusion could be drawn from it. From an neutral point of view, the prosecutors' case seems to be weakened by the fact that no single witness was present at the trial, and written statements against Li came from suspected criminals under detention.

The question remains whether the Chongqing court is capable of an independent trial uninfluenced by either the government or the public. During the trial, Li said an interrogator told him that his arrest was a joint decision by "three big heads," --the heads of Chongqing's Court, Procuratorate, and Police Bureau. If this is true, given the lack of judicial independence in China, one certainly has reasons to doubt whether a fair trial for such a case is possible. This said, the thoroughly argued trial that was open to the public did show signs of improvement in Chongqing's court system and raises hope for more.

One main issue the court debated was whether Gong Gangmo had, in fact, been tortured. Judging from various news reports, neither the defense nor prosecution convincingly established their claims. Consequently, whether Li Zhuang had attempted to fabricate evidence of Gong's torture remains unclear.

Legal conclusions aside, the Chongqing public's suspicion that a criminal lawyer like Li Zhuang is capable of doing anything in order to make big money needs no empirical support. Compared to the human-rights defense lawyers, who often work pro bono to help those at the bottom of the society, rich criminal defense lawyers are not as popular. Li's reported arrogance and disrespectful attitude toward the local court during his trial cast him in an even less sympathetic light in the locals' eyes.

On the other hand, the case practically puts the Chongqing government, and the Chinese legal system more broadly, on the defensive. The hurried arrest of Li raises concerns outside of Chongqing that legal process (however imperfect they are) was trampled to achieve political goals and that the broadly supported crackdown may not be as righteous as has been propagandized. Apparently, Chinese people have not totally forgotten the Cultural Revolution of four decades ago, a disastrous time when political righteousness was above everything else.

Related links:


Saturday, December 19, 2009

Drake Emerging Writer Award in Short Fiction

My book Apologies Forthcoming, together with Loranne March Temple's Coming to You from the Blue Room, has been selected as a runner-up for the 2009 Drake Emerging Writer Award in Short Fiction. The winner is Andrew Porter's The Theory of Light & Matter.

Congratulations to Loranne March Temple and Andrew Porter! I look forward to reading their books.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Book Review: Paper Butterfly by Diane Wei Liang

Paper Butterfly by Diane Wei Liang
Simon & Schuster (May 5, 2009), 240 pages, $24

The 1989 student movement that ended in blood underlies the cause and effects in this detective novel set in Beijing, China. That year, a 19-year-old student named Lin is condemned to a labor reform camp. Eight years later, he is released and becomes a migrant worker. Meanwhile, private detective Mei Wang, the heroine of the novel, takes on an investigation into the disappearance of a famous pop star, Kaili. When Mei finds a paper butterfly and a stash of old love letters in Kaili's apartment, she feels a historical link between Kaili, the letter writer, and herself. Soon Kaili is found dead, and her boss, who hired Mei for the investigation in the first place, now deploys, without success, all means at his disposal to stop Mei. More paper butterflies appear in a poor neighborhood, where a child also vanishes. With the help of her connections, Mei eventually ties all the ends together and discovers the truth.

This novel is the second of Diane Wei Liang's Mei Wang series that features China's first female private detective. The plot of Paper Butterfly is more gripping than the author's first novel, The Eye of Jade, and there are a number of rural scenes that are rendered quite vividly. Unfortunately, the characterization is weaker. Mei Wang's personality traits, which may have fascinated the reader in the previous novel – her aloofness and distaste for "back doors," her rare courage as a female detective, her conflicting emotions toward her mother – are no longer given enough stage to perform, or develop, in this 224-page thin sequel. As a consequence, Mei Wang's role in Paper Butterfly is not as memorable. Using a political event familiar to Western readers as the plot driver might be a clever idea, but it does not necessarily work well for an uninteresting protagonist.

Contemporary Chinese detective stories are not a new comer in the stage of English literature. Qiu Xiaolong, for example, has successfully portrayed inspector Chen Cao in a series of novels set in Shanghai. Diane Wei Liang's unique angle is the introduction of a female detective, but that uniqueness has yet to be well exploited.

The novel's writing, executed in the author's second language, poses an issue as to how much rendering of foreign-language terminology is too much. The author seems very eager to teach her readers Chinese nouns, as she uses pinyin (the most commonly used romanization system for standard Mandarin) way too frequently. Many of those nouns, such as "hulu," "tufei," etc, are insignificant words in the book which have readily available English equivalents, thus presenting them in Chinese pinyin doesn't seem to serve much of a purpose. A less arbitrary display of Chinese terms might be more effective.