何清涟:与其钻网眼 不如粉碎渔网

 

最近,中国政府的所作所为让国际社会瞠目结舌。一方面,中国当局似乎展现了日益膨胀的自信,其具体例证就是最近引起国际社会高度关注的反卫星飞弹成功测试;而另一方面,中国当局对言论控制的日益加紧又显示了它的极度缺乏自信与政治恐慌:先是划定1957年“反右运动”与1937年“七七事变”为两大言论禁区,继而又由新闻出版总署下令查禁8本书籍。同时,还成立了中央外宣办网路宣传局以“掌握网上舆论主导权”。

由于中国政府多年致力于编织文网,网眼也愈来愈密,国人在谈国事方面早已高度“自律”,所以当局现阶段的主要任务是消解真实的历史记忆,并构造虚假的集体记忆,通过控制言论、资讯隔绝来达成人群之间的隔绝。此举只是效法当年毛时代的故智:只要人被隔离成社会中一个个孤立的原子,也就无法集结成任何有组织的力量来与共产党对抗。如果对中国国情尚有几分清醒的判断力,就会明白此次中国向世界展示反卫星飞弹技术,正是缘于政治恐慌感,想藉此警告美国不要批评中国的人权及政治制度,在中国策划颜色革命。

然而,就算在此情此境之下,言论自由等公民权利也还是不能通过“等待”就能到来。相反,“忍让”的结果是导致文网日益密织,90年代中后期以来中国思想文化界的生存与发展脉络均显示了这一点。

胡平曾用“鱼群与渔网”的比喻,生动概括中国上一世纪90年代以来中国知识界与政府之间的互动关系:“六四”之后,中国当局一方面加固渔网,一方面调整网眼,于是,很多自以为聪明的鱼又重新以钻过网眼为能事,放弃了粉碎渔网的斗争。作为这一过程的亲历者,我认为这一比喻非常恰当。其实,笔者当年在中国历尽周折,发表了《现代化的陷阱》和一些文章,就属于“钻网眼”之举。当时外国传媒误以为这几本书的出版标识着“北京的春天”,我尽管知道这些只不过是“漏网之鱼”,但也曾对这种钻网眼的举动抱有希望,指望钻网眼的鱼多起来,能够将网眼扩张得更大,甚至弄出破洞来。

但此后几年的事态表明:依靠少数鱼钻网眼的举动,并不能粉碎渔网。每逢有几条鱼钻出网眼,当局必将网眼织得更密,于是,能够钻网而出的鱼也日见稀少。

期望当局变得开明一些,将“言论自由”赐予国人,已被事实证明是文化界的一厢情愿。袁鹰的《风云侧记》一书被禁就是一例。袁鹰具有丰富的政治经验,按他的预测,他自己曾说过,他所写到很多事情,在他之前已经有许多人写过了。2006年11月13日,总理温家宝在“同文学家艺术家谈心”时曾许诺“在宪法规定的范围内,保障学术自由和创作自由”。当时其实中国政府正在肆无忌惮地控制舆论,抓捕异议人士。但袁鹰对这种虚情假意的表态还是感到激动,表态说“温总理的这次讲话,给文艺工作者撑了腰,打了气”。语音刚落,他的《风云侧记》竟然被他服务了大半辈子的党指为“泄露国家机密”而遭禁,这真要算是当代中国的黑色幽默。

举袁鹰先生为例,绝无批评之意,而是想说明:在一个依靠谎言维护极权统治的政府管制下,言论自由是等不来的。现阶段,中国社会矛盾日益激化,政治暗流汹涌不息,即使大家非常自律,被政治恐慌感折磨的顾此失彼的当局也会神经过敏,这次被禁的8本书就是一例。

中国当局的愚蠢在于它没有认识到:控制言论在一个封闭的社会里容易做到,因为封闭社会里具备控制言论所必需的社会条件,如资讯传播手段的落后,民众的愚昧,还有民众对政治权威的盲目崇拜等等,比如毛泽东时代的中国就是如此。而现在的中国民众已经不象毛时代那样愚昧,互联网的开通也使当局的言论控制越来越困难,中国当局的政治权威更是严重下滑。所以中国当局控制言论的努力与其梦想的效果相差很远。

但中国知识界人士也必须意识到,依靠钻网眼的方式无法粉碎渔网。目前中国知识界以微言讽刺、涂上政治保护色这类努力争取著作的出版,有如聪明的鱼想方设法钻过渔网网眼一样,只有极少数能够成为漏网之鱼。所以,最好的办法是鱼群团结起来粉碎渔网。

令人鼓舞的是,被禁书的作者之一章诒和女士对当局表达了她的抗议与愤怒,一些身在中国境内的文化人如沙叶新等人也起而支持。这些,就是鱼群试图粉碎渔网的尝试与努力。

44位台湾艺文人士联署签名声援章诒和

 

中国大陆官方查禁作家章诒和等人著作的事件也在台湾引起强烈反弹。星期四,44位台湾艺术文化界以及社会运动人士发起联署签名声援章诒和,并且呼吁中国当局正视禁书事件对世界华文创作产生的负面影响。下面是本台记者荣屹的报道。

中国大陆新闻出版总署近日查禁作家章诒和的著作,受到各界注目,台湾的艺文界以及社运界人士也发起连署声援章诒和,发起人作家师琼瑜指出,创作不仅是人类可贵的能力,也是推动人类文明进展重要的动力,创作的成果是全人类文明共有的资产,不应以任何理由加以箝制以及禁止流通。

师琼瑜指出,这分连署声明目前采取私下签名连署方式进行,有四十四位台湾艺文界与社运界人士参与这项连署,未来考虑与香港或者海外艺文界一起举办相关活动,参与连署的政治大学台湾文学研究所所长陈芳明,则以过去自己在台湾戒严时期被列为海外黑名单的经验表示,声援章诒和是为了要让全世界看到中国箝制言论自由的行为。

而社运工作者黄洛斐指出,在寻求连署的过程中,部分人士有私人考量没有加入连署活动,他们也能够体谅。

这分声援稿还指出,现今正是华文创作逐步迈向世界舞台的璀灿时期,中国执政当局不但不应该箝制任何创作,更应积极地提供良好的自由创作环境,鼓励华文创作对全人类的文明做出更多的贡献,诚恳呼吁中国执政当局正视章诒和此一事件对于华文创作世界产生的震撼及影响,并重新审视此一事件的处理。

本台记者荣屹从台北发来的报道。

胡 平:读胡发云小说《如焉》

 

去年10 月,中国国际广播出版社出版了武汉作家胡发云的长篇小说《 如焉@sars.come 》(以下简称《如焉》)。这本书的出版称得上当代中国文坛的一件大事。著名作家、《往事并不如烟》的作者章诒和对这本书的评价极高。章诒和说:”六朝无文,惟陶渊明《归去来辞》而已;当代亦无文,惟胡发云《如焉@ sars.come 》而已。”

《如焉》的公开出版引来众多的赞许。不少网友说,这次中国政府有进步了,像《如焉》这样的书都能公开出版了。殊不知掌声未落,这本书又被禁了。

最近,中国国家新闻出版总署副署长邬书林在一次宣传和出版工作会议上宣布 8本书禁止发行,并要对有关出版社进行处罚。这8本被禁的书中就包括《如焉》。另外,章诒和女士的《伶人往事》也在被禁之列。日前,章诒和发表声明对此严正谴责,并誓言”我要以生命维护我的文字”。这份声明在海内外引起强烈反响,得到广泛呼应。

回到《如焉》这本书来。据作者讲,《如焉》一书完成于 2003年。2004年,这部小说的电子文本贴上了陈子明与何家栋主办的《改造与建设》网站,在网上流传很广。其后不久,《改造与建设》网站被下令关闭,但网上发表过的一些好作品仍然在网上继续流传。我是在前年夏天就从《改造与建设》网站上发现了《如焉》,后来又把它转载在《北京之春》网站。 不止一位国内的朋友对我说:你一定要看看这部小说,它正是对你的《犬儒病》一文的形象说明。《犬儒病》是我在 1998 年写的一篇文章,在这篇文章里,我用犬儒主义来解剖和分析六四后中国的精神危机,据说被国内多家民间网站转载,造成一定影响。

小说《如焉》写的是在SARS 爆发前后在某城市发生的故事,主人公茹嫣是位寡居多年的中年女性,她在同事的介绍下与本市的副市长相识并恋爱。同时,茹嫣又在网络上认识了以达摩为代表的几个知识分子。SARS 的爆发引发了原本隐藏的多种矛盾。在这一突发事件中,不同的人表现出不同的态度。小说深入细致地刻画出当代中国的社会生活,尤其是揭示出知识分子的复杂心态和整个社会的一般的精神面貌。

小说《如焉》正面写到了”六四”,揭示出”六四”后犬儒主义在中国的泛滥成灾,特别是知识分子的犬儒化。小说中的人物毛子就是一个犬儒病的典型。小说正确地指出,当今中国知识分子的犬儒化主要是”六四”屠杀所造成的恐惧效应。正像小说中人物达摩所说:”恐惧常常比灭杀更有力量。灭杀只能消灭异端的肉体。恐惧可以改换他的灵魂,让一个最不羁的反叛者,成为驯良的奴隶,并以此作为其他同类的标本。尤其可怕的是,恐惧是长在自己内心的,别人无法帮你将它割除。”

现在,人们一谈起当代中国知识分子的道德堕落,在专制强权面前丧失批判立场,每每归结为他们被共产党收买,成了既得利益者。不少知识分子自己也很乐意承认他们被收买——被收买那就表明自己有身价嘛,所以听上去不那么丢脸,或许还有几分光彩。有的知识分子甚至说:拿人家的钱,就得给人家干活。一边拿着人家的钱一边又骂人家,不地道。照这么讲,那些坚持对专制强权持批判立场的知识分子反而在道德上倒是错的了。其实,共产党总是使用威胁和利诱这两手。对大多数知识分子而言,也总是要在威胁奏效之后,利诱那一手才能奏效。要说邓小平给知识分子带来了幸福,所以知识分子应该感恩,应该拥护邓小平的路线,那么尽人皆知的是,当代中国知识分子命运的大改变是发生在上个世纪的七十年代末八十年代初,是发生在八九民运之前。那为什么还会爆发八九民运呢?为什么知识分子还会在八九民运中扮演领导角色呢?知识分子的犬儒化分明是发生在”六四”之后,因此主要是、首先是恐惧的产物。这还有什么可争辩的呢?

小说描写了毛子和达摩的两次辩论,十分精彩。老朋友达摩步步深入的追问,对毛子有如醍醐灌顶,当头棒喝。最后,毛子决心告别犬儒主义,重新拾回一度失落的理想主义。毛子当然知道他这样做会给自己带来什么样的麻烦乃至风险,但那又有什么了不起呢? 毛子说得好:”我自己就是光着身子混上来的,有什么舍不得丢弃?”更何况现在的压迫再厉害,总比毛时代轻多了吧。

我们知道,犬儒病是心理病。指出它的病症,分析它的成因,在很大程度上就是对它的治疗。犬儒常常不肯承认自己是犬儒。他们每每要编造出各种似是而非的理论或说词,把犬儒心态予以掩饰,予以合理化。这使得治疗犬儒病变得很复杂,但也因此而成为可能。正因为大多数犬儒都不能心安理得地当犬儒,所以,指出他们害了犬儒病就可能会激励起他们去克服它。依我看,这就是小说《如焉》的重大现实意义之所在。

首发自由亚洲电台

朱学渊:领袖意识流--评章诒和第三份声明

 

学渊评怕是章诒和找了一个律师团,要与邬书林上法庭,于是邬书林就要“私了”了。下面当然好戏连台:中国法院受不受理?中共中央如何干预?我想胡锦涛同志很可能在开庭前,就会把“邬书官”废掉,否则就是共产党成了被告,这不是中国出了“依法治国”的笑话局面了?而废了“邬书官”,也有更大的副作用,一则胡锦涛言而无信,没有担当;二则党官们今后是听党中央的好,还是听法官们的好?

于是,当前党的工作又必须转到“教育法官与胡锦涛同志保持一致上来”;……于是;……于是;锦涛同志的“领袖意识流”就洪水滔滔了……

章诒和第三份声明:事态的变化和我不变的立场

──兼告邬书林先生

2007年1月26日14时许,我在家中接到一位同事的电话,说(大意):邬书林同志是个好人,你们之间有误会……那个会上,他没点你的名。其实,不用托人带话,我早就知道邬先生是什么样的人。

2006年,邬先生在出版社总编培训会上说:「我是黑白两道都有人。我刚才接了一个电话,就是□□□打来的……」随后又说:「你们要让我不舒服,我就先让你们不舒服。」当下我被侵害,是不舒服了,但你也未必舒服。至于「黑白两道」的话,别忘了我是坐了十年大牢的。您能吓唬总编们,对我可不灵。

「我没有点你的名」,这是邬先生私下带话的重点。看来,我需要再重复一遍您的讲话(某些字句比我1月20日的「声明」有所补充):「这个人的思想有问题。我们已经反复打过招呼,她的书不能出,稿子走了好几家出版社,都没敢出,你们(指湖南文艺出版社)还真敢出,胆子也太大了(一说太猖狂)……对这本书是因人废书。」接着便是对该社的惩处(摘去优秀出版社称号,削减20%书号配额等)。在那样一个场合,用那样的话语,又针对那样一个出版社,您所说的「这个人」不是我是谁?那本书不是《伶人往事》又是哪一本?用我从事的戏剧专业术语来解释,就叫「规定场合、规定情景中的规定人物」。即锣鼓一响,胡琴一拉,梨园行的人就知道:这是一出什么戏,角儿是谁了。您是政府高官,已经亮相,就别赖账。

邬先生若问这些话,我是怎么知道的?「朝廷小,江湖大」这是从前的话;「政府小,社会大」乃是今日之现实。「进得衙门是官员,出了衙门是百姓」───这是现在很多官员的行为特点,您该知道吧。衙门里刚刚发生的事儿,他们能当信息、当聊天、当谈资都说了出来,其中还隐含着自己的感受与判断。这是常识,也是人性。您要明白,为了升官发财、胡作非为,却能密不透风、一手遮天的时代,已经一去不复返了。

您还说:「这个人的思想有问题。」请问:您是不是要搞文字狱?我的思想有问题与你何干?犯法,有国家的法律、法院管。犯错,有我所在单位过问。您管得着我吗?宪法给你什么权力来管我的思想?这是侵犯我的基本人权,所以您应当公开道歉,并承担法律责任。

最后,再来说「查禁」。根据我的切身经历,现在实施的查禁分速禁、缓禁两种方法。我的第二本书(「一阵风」)刚印完,即封在库房,这属于速禁。我的第一本书(「往事」)则是缓禁,即「卖完了就别再印了」。其实,缓禁的同时也在速禁。我这里就有一张浙江某市查缴「往事」的收据。这第三本(「伶人」),上边专门发了个通知,说(大意):网上流传的查禁八本书的说法严重失实。偏偏就在刚才(1月28日下午6时30分),一位姓戴的先生从张家港市打来电话,告诉我:他们那里的一家民营书店已接到通知,要收缴几本书,其中就有「伶人」。香港一位资深记者1月17日给上海某大报写了篇文章,里面提到我去年12月在新加坡和马来西亚的演讲。很快,上海某大报打来电话说(大意):「伶人」刚刚被禁,「章诒和的名字不能见报」。看来,我真个是书被禁、人被封。您的上级发通知说没查禁书,您却要查禁。您这不是□他们的耳光吗?

一切都很明了。您───是您个人将我看成思想犯,剥夺我作为一个公民的言论出版权利,您在公然蔑视宪法。否则为什么不按照法律程序,而是像现在这样干些鸡鸣狗盗之事,连自己说了的话都不敢承认?还是「声明」里的那句老话:查禁我的书需要公开、公正、独立的司法程序。我特聘请一个法律顾问团。首席顾问张思之先生,另有浦志强律师、付可心律师,其他律师暂略其名。他们会依法尽力维护我的权利。

邬先生,我讲了这么多,我与您之间有误会吗?基于我对您的了解,事态还可能会起变化,但我的立场不会变化。

2007年1月28日


 

 

海洛英:一个人的晚宴

 

当童心消失不再为新衣和压岁钱心动,当新年来临不再高呼“我又长大了一岁”而是倍感岁月潮涨的威胁,当享受上一代为你准备新年转换成了你为下一代操劳,当新年的激动被机械重複但平淡宁静的心情沖刷,每一个新年也就年复一年地以同一种方式重複度过,新年这一天也就成了如其它三百六十四天一样普普通通平平常常的日子。

中国大陆有一台“春节联欢晚会”为十几亿人年复一年地烹煮着一锅又一锅文娱大杂烩,澳洲庆祝圣诞节总会一年又一年不厌其烦地在圣诞前夜搞一台叫作Carols by Candle Lights的莺歌燕舞晚会,每年庆祝新年也总是不出意料地会在悉尼和墨尔本放上或火树银花或星星点点的烟火,以高呼和惊叫向人们提醒:新年又来了!新年已经成了一个古老的空壳形式,每一个新年的庆祝内容也大同小异年年相仿。

华人庆祝春节和西人庆祝圣诞节,从形式到内容年年相似。但是,竟然会有一档节目从形式到内容每年都是完完全全的一样,并且这样的重複已经持续了43年,没有人抱怨过没有人发过牢骚,相反全球每年有几亿人都会在新年前夜痴痴地守候在电视机旁等待着这档年年不变的节目。

这一档节目,不是英国女王给英联邦臣民们的新年讲话,不是美国总统新年前夜的炉边贺辞,不是澳洲总理的新年电视祝贺,也不是本拉登威胁全世界的新年恐怖录像,而是一部叫作“一个人的晚宴”(Dinner for One)或“90岁生日”只有18分钟的黑白短剧。

这部短剧,由英国剧作家Lauri Wylie於1920年代创作,1963年7月德国NDR电视台录制了由英国喜剧演员Freddie Frinton 和 May Warden演出的这齣英语短片,并成为德国的传统保留节目,全国每年会有一半的人观看,欧洲其它国家特别是斯堪德纳维亚国家都会在新年前夜播放这部短片。这部英语短剧,成了重複次数最多的电视节目,被收进了《吉尼斯世界纪录大全》;据统计,单单2003年新年前夜此剧就在不同的频道上播出了19次,截止2005年新年前夜已被重複播出了230多次。它已经走出德国和北欧,进入了瑞士、南非和澳洲寻常百姓家的新年前夜;澳洲SBS电视台从1989年开始在每年新年前夜的固定时间播放“一个人的晚宴”,至今已有17年的历史。

“一个人的晚宴”讲述的是一位英国上层社会老妇人Miss Sophie庆祝她90岁生日,她像往年一样邀请了好友Mr Pommeroy, Mr Winterbottom, Sir Toby和Admiral von Schneider庆祝这一特殊的日子,不同的则是她的这些好友早已作古,她的90岁生日晚宴的客人位子完全形同虚设,这晚宴是地地道道的“一个人的晚宴”。Miss Sophie在上每道菜时都要辅佐以美酒,形同虚设的客人的盃子则被实实在在地斟满,管家James重任在肩:他得代表四位客人向主人祝贺并饮酒;就这样,菜上四道,酒斟了四巡,James喝了16盃酒,近乎醉倒。

“一个人的晚宴”剧情比较简单,但最令人传诵的就是剧中多次重複的台词: “same procedure as last year(步骤和去年一样), Miss Sophie?” “Same procedure as every year(步骤每年都一样), James.” 使得“same procedure as last year”成了德国家喻户晓的口头语.

这一台词,事实上已经初步具有了存在主义的意识和荒诞剧的雏型,反映了人们已经开始对於日常司空见惯的事情有了反思的意识:人们每天每月每年所做的事情,在小的时间概念中显得无比突出令人激动万分,但是如果放到大的时间维度之中去看的话,会发现其实不过是在重複着过去同样的事情,是在浪费时间浪费生命。然而,发现了这个存在的真理抑或存在的荒谬,人们还是无能为力,还得年复一年地重複着去年的一切。

如果从存在主义积极的角度来看,“一个人的晚宴”给人的启迪在於:一切新的东西其实都隐藏在反复重複的迷藏之中。虽然发现了存在的荒谬,但还得积极而又潇洒地存在下去,该重複的还得重複,该邀请的还得邀请(不管他们是在世还是作古),这人生的晚宴再晚也要开席!

几十年之后,当你我独自庆祝新年时,我们不会孤单,我们有“一个人的晚宴”相伴,我们可以学习索菲亚小姐邀请新友旧鬼同开人生晚宴,像苏东坡那样“独邀明月,对影三人”,那将是何等地浪漫何等地富有诗意和禅味呀。

人生不孤独也不寂寞,就看你我如何看待、以何种态度活着了,即使“一个人的晚宴”也照样可以开得充满笑声生气勃勃的。

 

井 蛙:阿姆斯特丹旅馆

 

   1.
   
   
   
   安静啊,让我享有安静的午夜
   
   人们该停止诅咒了
   
   
   
   时钟在旧金山渔人码头响起
   
   我的栖息之所
   
   你是我唯一的栖息之所
   
   
   
   宽大的胸怀
   
   带着异邦人士惯有的自卑
   
   你吻我了
   
   
   
   几个表情暗淡的路宿者
   
   他们也希望吻我
   
   
   
   可是,我需要安静
   
   一些葡萄汁一样的冰凉
   
   渗进我的肌肤底层
   
   
   
   风
   
   只有短暂的一丝
   
   掀开我的内衣
   
   
   
   我并不羞涩
   
   我爱你
   
   在无数个无家可归的时刻
   
   在你身体里寻找失眠
   
   
   
   我确实憔悴极了
   
   你没看见吗
   
   
   
   我的额头本来闪烁天才的光华
   
   现在,是一棵焉谢的狗尾草
   
   上面有被收割的痕迹
   
   
   
   也有被困绑的罪证
   
   
   
   
   
   2.
   
   
   
   我是乞丐
   
   握一束像狗一样难看的狗尾草
   
   站立
   
   
   
   向贫穷看齐
   
   我开始施舍
   
   给路过的每一个没穿衣服的人
   
   
   
   他们没有衣服
   
   没有一切可以遮羞的布匹
   
   
   
   我说,阿姆斯特丹旅馆是个好地方
   
   它是旧金山的灵地
   
   
   
   没人回头看我一眼
   
   没有人需要道德
   
   
   
   他们愿意这样与我友好地对视
   
   
   
   一个夜晚蔓延
   
   许多个夜晚被拉近
   
   
   
   晚钟临近黎明了
   
   我快死了
   
   
   
   3.
   
   
   
   你紧紧地抱着一个加州苹果发呆
   
   你在看
   
   别人的胸脯
   
   
   
   我告诉你
   
   我已经失去了安静
   
   安静是我终生的信仰
   
   
   
   我吐血了
   
   一地都是与你偷情的玻璃片
   
   我的脸
   
   
   
   画满了逃亡的草图
   
   我剩下最后一件能窥见月色的衣衫
   
   
   
   也被你轻轻剥下
   
   
   
   不啊,是我自己
   
   挑逗你多余的无聊
   
   
   
   你在外面逛了几个时辰
   
   没敢
   
   骚扰我
   
   
   
   我其实多么爱你
   
   我爱一个身无分文的人
   
   
   
   你会把我当成你全部的忧郁
   
   
   
   我会在此
   
   永久居住
   
   我是永久客人
   
   
   
   你是我的永久之恋
   
   我的恋人,明天不要忧郁
   
   
   
   4.
   
   
   
   三月离开
   
   那就是雨水嘀嗒的时候了
   
   
   
   我会送你
   
   很多轮船队列
   
   
   
   你也来送我
   
   你走了
   
   我的爱情也消逝
   
   
   
   我会抱住自己的体温思念你
   
   
   
   祈祷,默念
   
   你的到来与你的离去
   
   
   
   这里,阿姆斯特丹旅馆肃立了纪念碑
   
   曾经
   
   一个举世闻名的夜行人
   
   
   
   流泪
   
   为了一刻钟的安静
   
   不松手
   
   
   
   我要攥紧你的大拇指
   
   找到疼痛的位置
   
   
   
   你走吧
   
   
   
   走后
   
   
   
   别
   
   哭。
      
    
   
   2007-1-28 SAN
D BEACH

何德普在狱中继续坚持维权

何德普在狱中继续坚持维权

——何德普妻子2月1日的来信 

贾建英 

 

【2007年2月2日狱委讯】德普在07年1月8日给司法部部长吴爱英写了一封信,内容是关于反映 监狱的伙食问题(每个月每人127元/2006年至今;1996年是124元/ 月),犯人们每天只吃点水煮白菜、萝卜、土豆,长期下去营养不良,身体虚弱。 

“监狱的硬件存在着问题,犯人放风的场地不足,(北京二监)三个 
中队才有一个象篮球场大的户外活动场地,每个中队一个星期只能放 
两次风,每次30~60分钟。有时因为天气或狱警的工作忙不能保障。 
身体活动得不到保障。” 

德普建议:将犯人的伙食费由现在的127元/月,提高到300元/月。每 
周两次放风改为每天放风一次。 

伙房的经营权应该由社会上的公司来承办。监狱伙房工作的社会化、 
公开化是维护犯人健康权利的最直接、最具体、最关键的改革措施。 

他说:犯人的健康权利得到尊重和维护是体现我国宪法中“国家尊重 
和保障人权”的重要标志,而服刑人员的伙食和放风的质量与他们的 
健康状况又有着最直接的关系。 

(贾建英:[email protected];86-10-6835-5230) 

 

China at sea

China at sea

Jonathan Mirsky


Edward L. Dreyer
ZHENG HE
China and the oceans in the early Ming dynasty 14041433
238pp. Longman. Paperback, £12.99.
0 3210 8443 8

During the early years of the Ming dynasty (13681644), the Chinese eunuch Zheng He was the commander of the greatest state-directed voyages in the age of sail. Zhengs seven vast armadas, with crews and soldiers numbering about 27,000, included the largest wooden ships ever built. Beginning in 1405, these voyages were the first projection of Chinese Imperial power by sea over vast distances, reaching across the Indian Ocean to the eastern shores of Africa. They were also the last.

Edward L. Dreyer, a well-known Ming historian, comprehensively examines this stupendous story in his book Zheng He. As he says, his account rests squarely on Chinese primary sources, of whose complexities he has masterful control. This mastery extends to details of naval architecture, court hierarchies and maritime geography that for the most part interest only specialists. But some of the information is staggering. Of the well over 200 ships in each armada, more than sixty were 385440 feet long. The number of Ming ships, which Professor Dreyer considers to have been huge shallow-draught river barges, overshadows the Spanish Armada; in size, they dwarfed British ships-of-the-line such as Nelsons Victory. Most of the 27,000 men in the fleet were soldiers, intended to overawe any ruler or potentate wherever the Chinese fleet appeared.

Eunuchs were important to the early Ming rulers, who prized their exclusive loyalty to the Emperors and recruited hundreds, perhaps thousands, of them for court duties. Traditional Confucian officials despised them, partly because eunuchs created no offspring, partly because they were said to be deeply corrupt, and partly out of envy. Nothing is known of Zhengs character apart from what his career implies, and the facts of his personal life are meagre. Born into a famous Muslim family in Yunnan, Zheng He (13711433) was castrated as a boy and sent to serve the prince who became the Yongle Emperor (who reigned from 1402 to 1424). When the prince fought the Mongols along the northern frontiers, Zheng He was at his side, admired for his intelligence, bravery and bulk. He may have been chosen to command the armadas because his Muslim background (although he became a devout Buddhist) would please many of the rulers along the shores of the Malay-Indonesian waters and the Indian Ocean, men well known to generations of Chinese sailors. In some Ming sources, Dreyer points out, Zheng He is exempt from the usual condemnation of eunuchs, although, and I hope Dreyer meant this to be a comical aside, he later became just another eunuch as far as Confucian opinion was concerned.

There have been many theories about Zheng Hes voyages. He was, and remains, the symbol of Chinas sea power in a period of Chinas historical greatness. The most recent theory, masquerading as fact, is the fantasy, disputed by all authorities, of the retired Royal Navy submariner Gavin Menzies in his best-selling 1421: The year China discovered the world (2002). Menzies claimed that Zheng Hes sixth voyage reached the western shores of the Americas and sailed home across the Pacific. Dreyer briskly rejects this nonsense: There is no evidence for any of this in the Chinese sources, which do document the return of the sixth expedition in 1422. Other explanations, some of them very early, suggest that the reigning Emperor Yongle was searching for vanished rival or that he was fascinated by exploration. In more modern years, especially after the humiliations of foreign dominance in the nineteenth century, Chinese nationalists contended that if China was once the mightiest naval power on the planet, it could be so again. In recent years, Beijing has claimed that Zheng He’s benign voyages, and contacts with rulers throughout South-East Asia and along the east coast of Africa, parallel the People’s Republic’s slogan of “China’s peaceful rise”. Dreyer dismisses such “sentimentalising” that prefers, he says, Chinese tranquil history to the violent expansion of the West. Although here, I think, he is unfair to the late Joseph Needham, who in Volume Four Part Three of Science and Civilisation in China, suggested that “while the entire Chinese operations [of Zheng He] were those of a navy paying friendly visits to foreign ports, the Portuguese east of Suez engaged themselves in total war”. But Needham correctly avers – as does Dreyer – that Zheng He engaged in three battles, one of them a sensational victory over a pirate force whose much-feared chief was carried back to the Ming capital and executed. Portuguese and other Western expansion into Eastern oceans, based in part on firepower, was far more violent than that of the Ming fleets, which established no colonies, enslaved no rulers or subjects, and made no attempt to corner the goods of the East for China alone.

Dreyer emphasizes that the Yongle Emperor intended, in the words of the “Mingshi”, the official history of the Ming, “to display his soldiers in strange lands in order to make manifest the wealth and power” of Ming China. In different formulations this was also Needham’s view.

While it is true that Zheng He brought back, for the exclusive use of the Ming household, lions, leopards, ostriches and giraffes, spices and minerals – his largest vessels were called Treasure Ships – the purpose of the voyages, as the main authorities now agree, was to enfold distant rulers, some of whom sent their envoys to China on Zheng He’s ships, in the ancient Chinese “tribute system”. According to this tradition the Emperor, ruling from the centre of the world, by his virtue and splendour attracted foreigners to his Court. There they presented him with their goods, deemed to be “tribute”, and performed the kowtow. In exchange, the Emperor bestowed on visiting rulers and their envoys goods exceeding in value what he received. As Dreyer and others have pointed out, this process permitted thinly disguised trade. After Zheng He’s voyages, there were no further tribute missions from rulers around the Indian Ocean.

When the Ming frontier armies fought losing battles with the Mongols and sent equally unsuccessful armies against the Vietnamese, this may have reflected, especially in the case of Yongle, an impulsive expansionism; the same impulse that inspired him to command Zheng He’s fleet to sail along centuries-old trade routes to display Chinese power, and make trade safer from the Malay-Indonesian waters to southern India and beyond. Historians have long debated why the Ming voyages were terminated – in 1436, the construction of deep-sea vessels was banned – and their logs either destroyed or concealed. Dreyer provides the most likely reasons. Apart from merchants, venturing far across “blue water” was an aberration in China’s long tradition of focusing on its land borders. Zheng He’s armadas were not a “navy”, for which there was no Ming department. The voyages were expensive, costing far more than the “tribute” they gained. The presence of eunuchs at Court and as champions of the voyages, on which some of them, as well as Zheng He, played leading roles, also made the Confucians despise the armadas. This hatred of eunuchs may explain why the plans for the ships disappeared, perhaps were destroyed, although this is not certain. And when the Ming capital moved permanently from Nanjing to Beijing, and China once again became inward-looking, Overseas meant out of mind, as far as official China was concerned.

This is indeed a stupendous story, and Dreyers learned and often vividly written book lays out its details and ramifications. It will be the last word for some time to come. His conclusions are vigorous and profound. Had the Chinese maintained their great armadas, Vasco da Gama and his successors would have found a powerful navy in control of the Indian Ocean. Instead China withdrew from the sea . . . . After Yongles grandson, the Emperor Xuande, died, none of the eleven succeeding Ming Emperors cared about the Western Ocean and its countries, and their eunuchs did other things. True enough, but as Edward Dreyer says of Zheng He, he is likely to sail on forever in our imaginations.

The Plot Thickens

The Plot Thickens

A New Book Promises an Intriguing Twist to the Epic Tale of ‘Doctor Zhivago’

By Peter Finn


Washington Post Foreign Service
Saturday, January 27, 2007; C01

MOSCOW Into one of the most sordid episodes in Russian literary history, the Soviets’ persecution of Boris Pasternak, author of “Doctor Zhivago,” a Russian historian has injected a belated piece of intrigue: the CIA as covert financier of a Russian-language edition of the epic novel.

Ivan Tolstoy, who is also a broadcaster for Radio Liberty and Radio Free Europe, writes in a forthcoming book that the CIA secretly arranged for the publication of a limited Russian-language edition of “Doctor Zhivago” in 1958 to help Pasternak secure the Nobel Prize in Literature that year.

“Pasternak’s novel became a tool that was used by the United States to teach the Soviet Union a lesson,” Tolstoy said in a telephone interview from Prague, where he works as a Russian commentator for the U.S. government-funded radio stations. The novelist knew nothing of the CIA’s action, according to Tolstoy and the writer’s family.

Tolstoy said his book, “The Laundered Novel,” is based on more than a decade of research and will be released later this year, the 50th anniversary of the publication of “Doctor Zhivago.” He previewed its contents in a recent lecture in Moscow.

A CIA role in printing a Russian-language edition has been rumored for years. Tolstoy offers the first detailed account of what would rank as perhaps the crowning episode of a long cultural Cold War, in which the agency secretly financed literary magazines and seminars in Europe in an effort to cultivate anti-Soviet sentiment among intellectuals.

A CIA spokesperson said the agency would have no comment on Tolstoy’s account. The agency’s files on its cultural underwriting in Europe remain closed, historians said. An official at the Swedish Academy, which chooses the Nobel winner in literature, said that materials on the prize committee’s internal deliberations are sealed for 50 years. The Pasternak file will not become public until 2009.

The CIA connection has dismayed Pasternak’s family and sparked a feud with Tolstoy, himself the grandson of an acclaimed Soviet-era novelist, Alexei Tolstoy.

“It is a detail hardly worth mentioning, a cheap sensation,” said Yevgeny Pasternak, the author’s 84-year-old son and an editor of his collected works, in an interview at his Moscow apartment. “I can add that my father knew nothing about this game. There is no doubt he would have won the prize anyway — in 1959.”

Pasternak, also a renowned poet, finished “Doctor Zhivago” in 1955 and submitted the novel to a Soviet publishing house for consideration. The story of a man torn between two women against the backdrop of the Russian Revolution was rejected.

But Soviet-era documents published in 2001 show that even in unpublished manuscript form it was hardly ignored. “Boris Pasternak’s novel is a malicious libel of the USSR,” wrote Soviet Foreign Minister Dmitry Shepilov in an August 1956 memo to members of the Central Committee of the Communist Party. In a memo of its own, the KGB offered the opinion that “a typical feature of his work is estrangement from Soviet life and a celebration of individualism.”

Other Soviet papers show that the KGB knew that Pasternak was looking abroad as well and had reached a deal with the Italian publisher Giangiacomo Feltrinelli to issue the novel in Italian.

In the months leading up its publication date in late1957, the Soviet authorities called on Italian communists to urge Feltrinelli, himself a communist, not to go forward with it.

Pasternak was pressured into sending Feltrinelli telegrams telling him he was withdrawing his consent for publication. But Pasternak sent separate, secret letters to Feltrinelli urging him to go ahead despite what his officially encouraged cables might have said, according to extensive correspondence between the two that is quoted in a memoir of Feltrinelli by his son, Carlo.

In early November 1957, just days after Feltrinelli received a letter from Pasternak scolding him for lack of decency because of his determination to publish, Pasternak secretly wrote how happy he was that the Italian was not “fooled by those idiotic and brutal appeals accompanied by my signature (!), a signature all but false and counterfeit insofar as it was extorted from me by a blend of fraud and violence.

“We shall soon have an Italian ‘Zhivago,’ French, English and German ‘Zhivagos’ — and one day perhaps a geographically distant but Russian ‘Zhivago’!”

Pasternak had been nominated for the Nobel Prize for his poetry every year between 1946 and 1950. The novel, which after the Italian edition appeared in English and French, received almost universal acclaim abroad, rekindling interest in Pasternak as a potential laureate. In 1958, he was nominated again for the prize by the previous year’s winner, the French writer Albert Camus.

But there was still no Russian-language edition of “Doctor Zhivago,” and the Swedish Academy required that any work under consideration be submitted in its original language, Tolstoy said. Soon a Russian “Zhivago” appeared at the academy, bearing the name of Feltrinelli as publisher. But the Italian house had not printed it.

In the memoir, Carlo Feltrinelli wrote that his father had suspected a CIA hand in the pirated edition. The agency “allegedly photographed the typescript at the Malta airport when the plane Feltrinelli was traveling in made a bogus emergency landing,” the younger Feltrinelli wrote in his book “Feltrinelli: A Story of Riches, Revolution, and Violent Death.”

Later, in a 1970 article for the Sunday Times of London, the elder Feltrinelli wrote that “while the literary world was acclaiming ‘Doctor Zhivago’ and its author, I became aware of the first signs of a battle between me and a number of persons and institutions (all connected with the same circle of anti-Soviet activities that in one way or another were connected to the CIA). It would seem that someone had printed an edition at the request of some Russian emigres in Paris who had certain ties with Americans.”

According to Tolstoy, among those seeking a Russian-language copy in 1958 was Nikolai Nabokov, secretary-general of the Congress for Cultural Freedom. The organization, based in Paris, was exposed in the 1960s as a leading vehicle of the CIA’s attempt to woo anti-Soviet intellectuals in Europe.

Carlo Feltrinelli remains skeptical that any such secret publication was aimed at the judges in Stockholm. “If there were some fake copies, if there was some CIA edition, I still don’t see the connection with the Nobel Prize,” he said in a phone interview from Milan, where he runs the company founded by his father.

Tolstoy said that he tracked down the Russian emigre who typeset the book, found the publishing house that printed it, and interviewed ex-CIA operatives to unravel a web of agency deceptions behind the publication. The forthcoming book “has all concrete details,” said Tolstoy, who added he was not going to steal his own thunder by revealing all his evidence in advance of publication.

The Soviets, certainly, had no doubt that the writer hadWestern promoters. “In the summer of 1958, a large campaign to award Pasternak a Nobel prize was initiated by Americans and launched in the West,” wrote a KGB official in a memo to the Central Committee of the Communist Party. “All reactionary and anti-Soviet forces took an active part in this campaign.”

Pasternak won the prize on Oct. 23, 1958, “for his notable achievement in both contemporary poetry and the field of the great Russian narrative tradition.”

“Infinitely grateful, moved, proud, amazed and confused,” wrote Pasternak in a telegram hurriedly sent to the Swedish Academy.

“He was very happy for a few hours,” recounted his son.

But Soviet authorities quickly unleashed a torrent of abuse on the celebrated author. He was forced to turn down the honor and was expelled from the Writers’ Union, where 29 members, including some old acquaintances, spoke against him.

Tolstoy argues that the Nobel Prize kept Pasternak out of prison because such a punishment would have been too embarrassing internationally for the Soviets. “The KGB wanted to destroy him,” said Tolstoy. “A Russian publication and a Nobel Prize were necessary to save him.”

That is an interpretation that Pasternak’s son contests. He said the writer’s health, already fragile, buckled under the official onslaught. Boris Pasternak died of cancer in 1960 at the age of 70.

“Some of his friends believed that it would be fine if he got the prize one year later — the scandal would be over and everything would be quieter,” said his son, who accepted the honor on his father’s behalf in 1989. “I don’t know.”