After Four Decades, Apologies Are Coming Forth

In December 2007, I wrote a news commentary for NAM titled “On Mao’s 114th Birthday, Past Catches up to Former Red Guard Leader,” a story about Song Binbin. (If you are not familiar with the name “Song Binbin,” there is a short introduction in that piece.)

At the time, it was a mystery to me what Song’s role was in the beating death of her school’s vice principal Bian Zhongyun on the afternoon of August 5, 1966. Despite numerous Chinese people proclaiming Song’s guilt (and an American lawyer even advocating bringing her to trial today), in my research I never found evidence showing that Song directly participated in the beating.

On the other hand, witness citations pointed to the fact that Song was on campus at the time, and might even have been in the crowd watching.  For example, a schoolmate of hers named Tao Luosong said in a 2007 statement that while principal Bian and other teachers were beaten on a stage, “Song Binbin happened to stand behind me. I heard her say, ‘That might be a way to cut back their arrogance.’” (“煞煞他们的威风也好.” I should say that the expression “也好” is somewhat difficult to translate; it has a tone of “not the best option, but…”)

I wondered why, when Song gave a veiled interview in the documentary Morning Sun denying any involvement in violence, she did not provide particulars of her whereabouts on that tragic afternoon of her youth. If she wanted to clear up her name, aren’t particularities much more effective than an abstract claim?

Now, two and a half years after I wrote that piece, the picture is getting clearer. In the most recent issue (the 47^th) of a Chinese e-journal titled "记忆" (Remembrance) is a rather detailed dialogue between five women, one of them Song Binbin. The other participants include Song’s high school friend Liu Jin, and three  lower-grade schoolmates of theirs, who did not know Song personally at the time of the violence. In recent years, all of them are actively involved in investigations aimed at recovering facts around the “August 5 Incident.”

In her introduction, Feng Jinglan, who conducted the discussion, says they have visited 110 teachers and schoolmates in their investigations. The article is rather long, divided into six sections:

1.      - The first “big-character poster” (大字报)

2.      - The work-team (工作组) period

3.      - The post-work-team period

4.      - The August 5 incident

5.      -  Red Guards and August 18

6.      - About Song Binbin

On “the August 5 incident,” in a nutshell, the conclusion is that Liu Jin and Song Binbin (both student leaders whose influence was waning in the post-work-team period), as well as some others were meeting in an office when, unknown to them, the violence started in the central campus playground.  After they heard about it, Liu, Song and company went to the site to try to stop the beating, then left when they thought their persuasion had worked. A while later, they heard the teachers were again beaten in the rear playground. For the second time the student leaders went to the site.  Again they left when they saw the beating had apparently stopped. At dusk, they were shocked to hear principal Bian was dying in the rear school yard. They rushed Bian to a hospital, had arguments with a doctor who was reluctant to help a “black gang,” and finally got emergency treatment for Bian, but it was too late.

This largely clears up Song Binbin’s role in the incident. I am pretty much convinced that she neither organized nor participated in the beating, and later that day she actively sought medical treatment for Bian.  In my mind some questions remain, but I’ll address those in another post.

In the section about the “August 5 incident,” Feng Jinglan asks questions, and Liu Jin gives most of the answers based on what she remembers as well as her latest investigations which fill the gaps in her faded memory. Ye Weili adds her part of witness memory and observations. Oddly though, Song Binbin, the center of focus, is quiet. None of Feng’s questions here is directly addressed to her. The only time Song speaks in this section is about a recent visit to an old teacher:

宋彬彬：那天去看梅老师，一进门看见他满头白发的样子，我心里充满愧疚，就说了对不起老师的话，这是发自内心的、一直想说的话。虽然8月5日事发当天，我们也去劝说、阻止过，但是并没有预想到事态的极端后果。想到卞校长被学生暴力殴打死于非命，其他校领导老师们身心遭受重创，40多年来我一直非常痛心、愧疚和懊悔。利用这个机会，我想再次表示对他们的歉意和追悔。

[in translation]

          Song Binbin: That day [we] went to see Teacher Mei, as soon as [I] entered the door and saw his all white-haired look, remorse filled my heart, so I said sorry to the teacher. The words came from [my] heart, what I had always wanted to say.  Although on the day of August 5 when the incident happened, we tried too to persuade them to stop [the violence], we did not anticipate the situation’s extreme consequence. Thinking of Principal Bian’s death under the students’ violent beating, and other teachers and administrators suffering severe physical and mental harm, for over 40 years I’ve always felt heartache, remorse, and regret. I’d like to take this opportunity to express my apology and regret to them again.

This is new and significant. Though I wish Song had laid out specifics in her own words about her activities on the day of August 5, 1966, not just let others speak on her behalf, I applaud for her sincere apology nearly 44 years later.  As I wrote two and a half years ago, “So far, few former Red Guards have come out and talked about their actions. Most are in their 60s now, remaining behind a wall of silence. I can understand their excuse that the violence they were involved in was circumstantial, non-personal, and, at the time, even politically correct.  Still, I can't help but wonder: Had Song Binbin acknowledged her part in, clarified her position on, and properly expressed her sorrow for that tragic day of 1966, would people's reaction today have been more restrained? Would she have been forgiven by those who crouched in terror that day, as well as by those who had terrorized and now try to forget their shame?”

I recall years earlier, after seeing the documentary Morning Sun, a friend, who felt Song was too caught up in clearing of her own name, commented, “Why didn’t she express any sorrow about Bian Zhongyun’s death at all?”  Yes, it would have been better for both Song and the film audience if she had spoken those sincere words then, but it’s still not too late now.

Many CR participants who weren’t physically involved in violence might feel their apologies are not called for. ("They haven't stepped out, why should I?")  Other more enlightened minds feel differently. A few weeks ago I went to Harvard University to attend a conference titled “Red Legacy in China.” One of the speakers, Carma Hinton, director of Morning Sun, told a story of her high school reunion in Beijing last year: the entire class gave a collective apology to their old teachers. The teachers, now aged, were very touched. So was I. My understanding is that none of those in the reunion had committed violence, yet they were not exceptions to denouncing teachers, as it was the norm of the time.

After all, few of the CR generation were completely innocent. The Cultural Revolution was an all-people movement. It was a time that few escaped the mob mentality. Even today it gives me cold sweats with the thought that, if I were old enough then, I could have done terrible things that I would regret for a lifetime.

As a writer, I’ve always been more interested in understanding the mob mentality than pointing fingers. To understand we have to keep digging through the past. I don’t think we have dug deep enough, have understand enough. I heard that, early this year, when Zhang Yimou made a New Year movie that many deemed too stupid, the famous director claimed that Chinese people had enough heavy topics like the CR, what they needed now were light-hearted, relaxing movies. It surprises me that Zhang’s sight is this narrow, from only the viewpoint of his generation. Has he noticed that today’s young people are very ignorant of the recent past such as the CR and 1989? Without learning the lessons from their parents, new signs of mob mentality have already began to show on the internet.

A reader once asked me what I think the present effects are in China of people not being able to openly discuss what happened during the CR. I told her the real danger is not from the government restriction on the topic but from a voluntary silence of the people who participated, because what was glorious then, is shameful now. And there are a lot of them, the entire generation that grew up with Mao’s New China, the older sisters and brothers or my generation, the parents of the post-70s and even 80s.

I’m a pessimist when it comes to human nature and I’d thought the apology would forever be in the forthcoming (but never arriving), thus my book title. Song Binbin’s apology and that from Carma Hinton’s class seem to be rays of new hope. I can see how the courage to apologize has taken more than 4 decades to pluck up; it is courageous nonetheless. Perhaps the wall of silence is starting to crack?

Of course, for those who committed violence, the obstacle in delivering the apology is a lot bigger.  I remain pessimistic on this.

Ba Manzi's Tomb

It was reported that, early this month, the Ba Manzi Tomb in Chongqing was reopened to the public ("for free"), after being closed for more than a decade.  This news bears certain intimacy to me because, I suspect, Ba Manzi's blood once steeped deep in my mother's veins.

During China's Warring State Period (475-221BC), Ba Manzi was a general commanding the Ba Kingdom's army. This small kingdom was caught in a civil strife that its tiny army was unable to quell. Manzi turned for help to Chu, a much bigger neighboring kingdom, and offered Chu three towns to restore order. Chu’s army came to Ba and quelled the internecine war, at which point Chu’s king sent an envoy to receive the three promised towns. Manzi said to the envoy, “My head may be given, our land may not. Because I can’t give you our land, to keep my promise I’ll give you my head.” He drew out his sword and cut off his own head. All were shocked. The envoy brought Ba Manzi’s head back to the King of Chu. The king was so moved that he held a grand burial for the head, while the Kingdom of Ba gave an equally grand burial to the body. The three towns of Ba stayed intact.

Thus Ba Manzi's head and body were buried in separate locations. However, Huayang Guozhi (《华阳国志》), the ancient book that recorded the story, does not say exactly where. Experts say the Ba Manzi Tomb in Chongqing does not contain his remains; it could contain just clothing, or could be empty. Why such an empty tomb is in Chongqing, who built it and when, is one of numerous puzzles in China's history.

My mother shares the hometown, now the Zhong County (忠县), with Ba Manzi. The place, a few hundred miles downstream from Chongqing, was the ancestral land of the Ba tribe that mysteriously vanished some two thousand years ago. It was an improbable chance of literacy that brought my mother, the daughter and only surviving child of poor peasants, to learn the story of Ba Manzi at age thirteen. For two thousand years until the 1949 liberation, in each spring, on the third day of the third moon of the Old Calendar, Zhong County held a grand temple fair called “third moon festival” to commemorate Ba Manzi.  As a middle school student in the early 1940s, my mother danced and sang and paraded in each year’s “third moon festive." Since then, Ba Manzi's patriotic, self-sacrificing heroism has never lost its vitality for her. I suspect her drive to join the underground Communists before the liberation and risk her life for a cause that later proved vain, that brought her life-long pain, had something to do with Ba Manzi's spirit. On the other hand, her illiterate mother, my grandma who we called Gaga, who knew nothing of heroes beyond cats, water buffaloes and mythical rhinoceroses, lived a relatively more contented life of 95 years. Gaga was born in the same year as Mao – 1893, but out-lived Mao for a full cycle of twelve Earthly Branch years.

My mother is sure that her ancestors were native Zhong County inhabitants ever since Pangu separated the sky and earth from chaos, because in her youth she had read her family genealogical chart. "It contains eight generations of my ancestors, all in Gingko Bay village," she once told me. When the Chinese say "eight generations," it does not mean eight; it means all. If this is the case, then I'm fairly confident my mother is a descendant of the Ba tribe, the valiant, dance-love ancients who forged bronze swords along the Yangtze and buried their dead in boat-coffins hanging on high cliffs above the gorges.

In February 2009, I revisited the Ba Manzi Tomb in Chongqing. It had become a forgotten, dilapidated, dark basement of the commercial world. Though its name was on the tourist map, few residents along the street knew about its exact location, and I had to ask many people to eventually find its obscured entrance. Down a flight of wide stone steps piled with furniture supplies, the tomb front had turned into an unauthorized storage room for a retail store. Another, fancier furniture store sat on top of the tomb. I asked a store worker if he worried about the government's punishment for occupying the site of a cultural relic, he said no, during the several years he worked next door to the tomb, he had seen occasional tourists, even foreigners, but no government people. That's why they had unscrupulously piled their furniture supplies, blocking the sight of it.

The Ba Manzi Tomb in Chongqing (February 2009)

in front of the tomb (Feb. 2009)

on the tomb's top (Feb. 2009)

Now, why did the Chongqing government suddenly remember it? Is it because Bo Xilai needed another teachable instrument for heroism and patriotism?

That's beyond me at this moment, as I'm fascinated by something else: it just occurred to me that my father's lineage has an almost opposite nature, almost anti-heroism, from that of my mother's.

The Chinese say marriage is the combination of yin and yang, in which the woman possesses the softness of yin and the man the power of yang.  In my upbringing, however, it had always seemed to us children that our mother was the yang element. This is to say, while we grew up, the family's roof had been pillared by our mother, not father. I wonder if my father's soft personality has to do with his ancient heritage.

Next time I'll tell you the fascinating story of my father's ancestry, one that he himself might not be aware of. 

New Photos of Covered Bridges in Taishun

A reader, Steve, recently left a comment under my post Dream Left on Covered Bridges 廊桥遗梦:

I spent a week in Taishun County during the Chinese New Year. You can see my photo's here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/byrnzie28/sets/72157623306936489/

Those are beautiful photos! Go take a look.

Han Han and Time's 100 Competition

Best on-line fun of the month: watching Han Han's climbing rank in Time's list of the "100 most influential people in the world" nominees. When I first noticed it, Han Han was 12^th; two days ago he was 7^th; today 5^th.

Meanwhile in China, the People’s Daily website, people.com.cn, reported this news with the headline "Han Han Included in World’s Influential People: Time Magazine Deeply Nearsighted?" In addition to the negative angle shown in the headline, the site holds two "small polls" (I've included the results so far):

1. "Do you like Han Han? Why?"

Like him because of his blog and books (64%)

Like him because of his intelligent and seasoned personality (13.4%)
Like him because of his unusual personal experience and appearance (4.6%)
Don't like this person (14.6%)

Can’t say clearly (3.3%)

2. "Do you think Han Han can represent China?"

Absolutely can't represent (34.4%)
Can only partially represent (58.8%)
Unclear (6.8%)

While the first question is sort of interesting, the second is a complete hack. First of all, Time's competition is not for the "most representative" people of a country. Second, the poll asks a positive question, then positions the most negative answer at the top. Further, such muddling of the issue of "representing a country" shows an inability to distinguish the identity of a person from that of a country; apparently the communist tradition of mixing the two still occupies some minds.  

Also strange is that, since the poll includes the extreme option "absolutely can't," shouldn’t it also include the other extreme "absolutely can" for completeness and symmetry? Plus, the word "only" in "Can only partially represent" is redundant unless its intention is to emphasize the negative biases against Han Han. If a poll is set to be biased, is it really a poll?

All that said, I'm not completely sure such negativity was the editors' true intention. It could also be a strategy. As far as I can see, since this report from people.com, Han Han's votes on Time.com have increased rapidly. The poll results on people.com also show that public opinion strongly opposes the editors' negative diction. So the question boils down to whether the editors there are smarter or stupider than we think: It is certainly a clever thing to do if they made the report and polls appear negative in order to pass censoring, while expecting the public to react differently. Otherwise, the unintended results have made fools of them.

Another article I found entertaining: "Han Han is hardly a hero of our times" from ShanghaiDaily.com (h/t ESWN). I thought the aim of a commentary should be to convince. Failing that, at least one should avoid contradicting oneself, right? Now hear this: "It strikes me as naive that being critical of the Chinese government should be the major, if not sole, criterion for making Time’s list..." Didn’t he see the Chinese government officials Bo Xilai and Wang Qishan on the same list? What is “the major, if not sole criterion” for them to make the list then?

While I do view Han Han as "a hero of our times," such a view is subjective and not a basis for meaningful argument. The commentary’s author, however, confuses the more measurable concept of "influential" with the largely subjective notion of "heroic,"  and his criticism of Time's "wrong" choice might have stemmed from another typical communist principle of "one standard for all." Well, Time is not a communist magazine that takes setting heroic examples as its mandate; as such applying a "hero" selection standard to its influential people list is like "donkey lips not matching horse jaws," as we Chinese like to say. "Influential" is not a moral term. There is nothing in the definition of "influential" that excludes a person whose influence is viewed as "good" by some and "bad" by others. The fact that Time's list has Chinese government officials Bo and Wang sharing space with Han Han (who's critical of the government) and an imprisoned dissident, Liu Xiaobo, certainly illustrates this point.

It is even more aimless for the author to suggest that Time replace Han Han with "Tang Fuzhen, a 47-year-old in Chengdu who died after setting herself on fire in November of last year to protest the forcible demolition of her home.” I wonder, if Time did include Tang in the list, how many votes she would get, given how few people know her name? And if she did not get many votes, wouldn't the ShanghaiDaily author become even more outraged with Time?

I must say that I'm not a big fan of Time, and I usually don't care about its 100 competitions. My main point here is that a journalist who opposes something should have a clear aim, and at least some knowledge of the target before shooting his bullets.  I guess being honest is the most essential quality for a journalist. Without it, one's words can easily become a laughing stock.

Personally, I'm very happy to see the ever rising votes for Han Han. For one thing, and an important one at that, based on my reading Han Han is a way more honest person and definitely a way better writer than most Chinese journalists. Not only is he bravely candid and sharp, he also makes sense, and has good humor. And he cares. He cares about social justice. Reading his blog posts often makes me feel 痛快 (to be honest I don't know how to translate this expression precisely and satisfactorily), a nice feeling I don't often have reading the writing of others.

As to why Liu Xiaobo's votes lag behind Han Han's, again it has to do with the extent of influence. Liu Xiaobo may be a deeper thinker, but for various reasons his influence has not spread to ordinary people of different ages and classes as extensively as Han Han’s. While Lui Xiaobo may be a hero to intellectuals, Han Han is a hero to ordinary people. And to say Han Han is one of the most influential people is no exaggeration. Really amazing, considering that he is only 27 years old, without even a high school diploma.

"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 20^th 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

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. 

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 4^th movement in 1919 or the June 4^th 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 20^th 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 4^th 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.

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 

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)

Food to Die For

In the March 1^st 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.

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!

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.

Bo Xilai with Children Reciting Marx

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.

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 1^st 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 2^nd 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

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 30^th 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 4^th movement [in 1919], but in fact following May 4^th 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 Revolution：unable to get around；not daring to face up;  no way to dispel; unwilling to forget；a thousand contradicting and complex feelings buried in the heart.#