This Generation (28 page)

Democratization is inevitable, but it's a complex and difficult process, and it is not going to be easily achieved by reciting these mantras that slip off the tongue so smoothly—revolution, general elections, a multi-party system, overthrowing you-know-what. If you have never cared about the independence of the judiciary or about publishing freedoms, being concerned about elections doesn't really amount to much—it simply shows you're drawn to the slogan's sex appeal, a bit like those people who, when they mention car racing, think it's all about Formula 1, or when talking about soccer know only of the World Cup.

Q. I feel that in China revolution and democracy are just a matter of timing—what do you think will be the best time?

A. Revolution and democracy are two completely different things. There's no guarantee that revolution will bring democracy—didn't we already establish that a long time ago? History gave China a chance to take the democratic path, and our situation now reflects the choice made by our parents' generation. Of all the countries in the world today, China is the least likely to see a revolution, but the one that most urgently needs reform. If you insist that I tell you the best time for revolution, all I can say is: When everyone
knows to dim their headlights when they pass another car on the road, then we'll be ready for a revolution.

But a country like that doesn't actually need a revolution at all. When the people's personal caliber and educational level reach that point, everything will just happen automatically. Perhaps you will see this great change in your lifetime, or perhaps to your dying days you'll just go on being a thread in this huge knot we've tied ourselves into. But in any case, be sure to remember to turn off your high beams—maybe this way our children will sooner achieve what our parents' generation was striving so hard to attain.

December 24, 2011

Q. Revolution doesn't necessarily entail violence, does it? Just think of the Velvet Revolution.

A. I don't think a Velvet Revolution can take place in China. Let's put aside the issue of the international situation at the time and the fact that the entire population of Czechoslovakia then was just half of what Beijing's is now—to put your faith in a Velvet Revolution is to choose to trust in the quality of the people, the acquiescence of those in power, and a leadership made up of intellectuals. Only with the confluence of these three elements could the Velvet Revolution come into being, and I think none of these conditions exist in China. You can't keep harping on about a perfect revolution as a way of rejecting the prospect of a possibly imperfect reform. But no matter whether revolution in China is violent or nonviolent, writers are going to play a lot less important role than they imagine—and they certainly won't be its leaders. Given the quality of the population at large, it's all the more unlikely that writers will have any major role to play
at all. You can't just ignore Chinese realities and pontificate about how things should be in terms of perfect democracy, perfect freedom, and perfect human rights. Reform and democracy are actually a process of bargaining—you can't expect the people in power suddenly to see the light and give you everything you want, just because they have read a few books. You can't be constantly anticipating a Velvet Revolution and rehearsing your role as the Chinese Havel, imagining that overnight every person in China will get to vote, and not one of those votes will have been bought. Even today, the Czech Republic does not have universal suffrage. So my view is simple: We don't want a violent revolution, and a Velvet Revolution is not going to happen in China anytime soon. Perfect democracy will never appear in China, so all we can do is to pursue it one step at a time. It's pointless to fantasize about democracy and freedom in the isolation of your study—you'll just drive yourself crazy that way. Gradual reform is the best way out at present.

Q. Your conclusion is that the Chinese people's quality is too low, so they're not suited to democracy. You've accepted a kickback from the government's stability-maintenance budget, haven't you?

A. I don't know how you can attribute that conclusion to me. I think I've put it very plainly. Democracy is not something that's suitable or unsuitable—sooner or later, it's bound to come. The low caliber of the people doesn't rule out democracy, but it does decide the quality of democracy when it does arrive. Nobody wants to see a Rwanda-style democracy, although that is not a true democracy in the broad sense. Democracy may come slowly or suddenly, and perhaps it won't be all that thorough or comprehensive, or so American or so European, but it will definitely come in your lifetime, and when we look back it may not seem so dramatic.

Q. Are you saying that everything depends on gifts given by those in power, rather than things taken by the efforts of the people?

A. Of course it's vital to put pressure on those in power, but, sadly, their willingness to compromise is even more important, and that requires a degree of vision on their part, and also sheer luck. Currently, the various levels of society are disconnected. Take the people in power, for example: No matter how much of an uproar the Wenzhou train accident provoked, they are still playing it cool, feeling that this is just a minor flap, that things will calm down of their own accord without any need to take more drastic measures. The families of the people in power may well have absolutely no interest in this incident, caring only about who is going up and who is coming down, who's a bit too young or old, how to rank so-and-so. Even with all the uproar over the train collision, they are going to feel that it will all pass in due course and things will revert to normal. Of course, what's even more likely is that they never felt the pressure of public opinion, a bit like if you have a billion in your bank account, you're not going to panic if you lose a thousand. If you add up all the money in the pockets of the people in cultural circles, it only comes to five hundred yuan, and when they imagine the rulers have just six times that, they are simply creating a false picture of how anxious the rulers must be. Actually, the issues you raise are not even on their radar. But many people in cultural circles think that all our problems are a product of our system, as though everything will be solved as soon as we change it. Although they mean well and have their hearts in the right place, they tend to expect peasants and workers to share their values—or even take it for granted that the whole society should think the same way they do—when the reality on the ground is much more discouraging.

Rally-race venues tend to be in fairly remote areas, so in
recent years I've visited over a hundred county towns. None of them, I find, are particularly deprived or cut off from the world. When I talk to their residents, I find that they are not thirsting for democracy and freedom as hungrily as people in cultural circles imagine. Their resentment of authoritarian government and corruption does not lead them to ask, “How can we limit and monitor these things?” but rather “Why can't I, or why can't my family, have what bureaucrats have?” Only when they bear the brunt of some inequity, only when they personally feel the need to protest, will they reach for a dictionary to find those progressive concepts in an effort to protect themselves. So long as the government gives them adequate compensation they'll be satisfied. If a social conflict can be resolved simply by some money changing hands, it's not really much of a problem. But intellectuals tend to regard people's ad-hoc adoption of these fashionable words as the expression of a universal demand and assume that everyone is on the same page. I don't believe there are good prospects for a revolution in a country where there's such a stark divide separating one group of people from another. “If those people are so docile,” you may say, “that's just because the government trained them to think that way. So we need change at the top.” But this is the reality we're facing, and it's not going to change radically anytime soon. At the same time, I'm not pessimistic, because when I talk with these people's children, the Internet and other kinds of media have broadened their outlook considerably.

The Chinese Communist Party now has eighty million members, and if you throw in all their relatives, that's another three hundred million, so it can't be thought of simply as a political party or a ruling elite. A lot of the time, the Party's shortcomings are the people's shortcomings. A powerful one-party system, it seems to me, amounts in the end to a no-party system, because once a party reaches a certain scale,
it takes on the character of the people, just as the people exemplify the system, so the issue is not what we do with the Communist Party—the Communist Party is only a label, just as the system is only a label. To change the people is to change everything. So we need to focus on improvements. The legal system, education, and culture have to be the foundation.

Q. If revolution does come, what role should influential intellectual figures play?

A. They should sit on the fence, but turn their faces against the wind. Intellectuals need to have a sense of justice, but shouldn't be wedded to a single position; the more influential they are the less they should take sides. If they see one faction getting the upper hand they should express support for some other force in society; they should keep their distance from any particular agenda, any particular faith. They need to think of all revolutionaries as potential confidence men and disbelieve all their promises, doing everything possible to ensure that no one party can eliminate others and become dominant. Thus, if China has a revolution in the future, I will stand by whoever is the weaker, and if they become strong, I'll side with their rivals. I'm ready to sacrifice my own view in order to see that different sides coexist. Only that way can we achieve everything we're seeking to accomplish.

Finally, just to be able to discuss these things as the year draws to a close makes for the best possible New Year. This time round, unlike in previous debates, there is no single adversary. I'm grateful to all the friends who have raised issues with me—they are all excellent points. If my answers don't always address the questions, I hope you'll understand.

December 26, 2011

A couple of essays ago
I said that different people want different freedoms and in my last essay I said that democracy and the rule of law involve a process of bargaining. No matter how big the markdowns in the Christmas sales, you're not going to get something for nothing. So now I need to start doing some bargaining.

For a start, as someone involved in culture, in the coming New Year I demand a freer hand in literary creation. I'm not putting it in terms of freedom of this or freedom of that, because those two expressions will only provoke wariness and alarm in certain quarters, even if these freedoms have always been written into our constitution. In reality, they have never been well implemented. At the same time, on behalf of my colleagues in the media, I need to demand more freedom for the press, since the news is always subject to such rigid controls, and freedom also for my filmmaking friends, who have a terrible time. Working in the cultural arena is like stepping into a minefield—you have to walk slowly, and never in a straight line.

It is in the direction of freedom, after all, that our age is surely
moving, and we are not asking for things the government hasn't already promised. I know that you've done your research on the Soviet Union; I know you think a big reason for Communism's collapse there was that Gorbachev relaxed press restrictions and transferred supreme power from the Communist Party to the Congress of People's Deputies, as mandated by the constitution. So this makes you extremely circumspect about freedom of speech and constitutional government. But we live in an era where information moves so freely that trying to block it is futile, and your restrictions on culture simply mean that it is next to impossible to produce literature and cinema that will have any influence in the world. Chinese authors and directors alike are reduced to a state of perpetual embarrassment. China's media, likewise, has no global impact, for there are lots of things that money simply cannot buy. A culture boom is actually the cheapest thing around—the less you try to control culture, the more it is going to flourish. If you continue to insist that Chinese culture is not subject to restraints, that's just too disingenuous. So in the year to come I call upon the authorities to loosen the bonds that are stifling culture, publishing, media, and film.