TRUNG HỌC DUY TÂN - PHAN RANG

[buihongloan]

A plaintive plea, out of love not hate, to cage the monster

Murong Xuecun

I AM A Chinese writer. Allow me to say a few words about my country. Everyone knows that in the past 30 years China has built countless skyscrapers, commissioned countless airports, and paved countless freeways. My country's gross domestic product is the world's second largest and her products are sold in every corner of the planet. People exclaim in amazement: China is rising, the Chinese are rich! But behind this facade of power and prosperity there are details of which many people are unaware, and it is precisely these details that make my country a very strange place.

Living in China is like watching a play in a giant theatre. The plots are absurd and the scenarios are unbelievable - so absurd, so unbelievable that they are beyond any writer's imagination.

In my country, the legal system works like this: countless laws are enacted, and then countless procedures are created, followed by countless enforcement regulations and detailed judicial interpretations, but ultimately it is up to the political leaders to decide who wins and who loses a case. In my country, many innocent people disappear, and some people lose their freedom without ever being sentenced by a court.

In my country, there are many peculiar ways to die in detention and officials are more creative than a novelist like me in coming up with explanations: died playing hide and seek; died while dreaming; died of psychosis; died sipping water. But in all cases the bodies of those who die in custody are covered in bruises and wounds.

In my country, every city has demolition crews equipped with bulldozers and truncheons. The bulldozers are for levelling people's homes and the truncheons are for bludgeoning stubborn home owners. To protect their homes, some home owners beg on their knees, others cry, and some threaten to kill themselves or even actually self-immolate. But nothing can stand in the way of the demolition crews and no official is ever brought to account when demolitions result in deaths.

In my country, the job of the press and electronic media is to promote the government, not to report the truth. The education system is tasked with instructing the people to be loyal to the government and keeping the people ignorant, not with disseminating knowledge. As a result, many people have never grown up intellectually even though they are adults.

In my country, writing is a dangerous occupation. People are sent to prison for writing essays, or saying a few words of truth. Writers are not allowed to talk about history, or to criticise the present, let alone fantasise about the future. Many words cannot be written, many things cannot be spoken, and many issues cannot be mentioned. Many books are banned in my country, and then become bestsellers overseas.

My country is capable of launching a satellite into space but not of building a safe bridge across a river. My country is capable of building palatial government offices yet condemns children to substandard schoolhouses. It provides millions of luxury cars to government officials yet few safe school buses for children.

My country was entirely a status-oriented society just over 20 years ago. What a person could do depended not on that person's intelligence and competency. Rather, it depended on who that person's father was. During the Cultural Revolution, if someone was deemed a ''son of a bitch'', then his son would be deemed a ''son of a bitch'', and many years later his grandson would also be deemed a ''son of a bitch''. Twenty years on, is there any progress? Yes, but not much.

In my country, the sons and grandsons of officials are still officials while second and third-generation migrant workers are still migrant workers. All power, all business and all resources are monopolised. There is almost no hope for the sons of ordinary citizens to move up. There is no possibility of them ever becoming an Obama or a Steve Jobs.

Creativity never flourishes in a status-driven society. That's why in every field of endeavour - industry, agriculture, commerce and culture - my country contributes few innovations and new ideas, but excels at counterfeits and imitations. I believe that without reforming this rotten system, China will continue to be a nation that contributes few innovations and new ideas to mankind. It may have a lot of money but there won't be much culture left. It may become a mighty military power but it will still be incapable of making its people feel secure.

This rotten system is the mongrel of Stalinist Maoism and imperial Chinese political culture, a cross-breed of the rule of the jungle with traditional Chinese trickery and communism. Decades later, this creature now has become a monster. This monster is vain, tyrannical and arrogant. It never admits to mistakes. It destroys people in the name of justice and rehabilitates them, also in the name of justice. It takes credit for everything positive, and blames others for all failures. It wants to lord over everything and tolerates only one faith, faith in itself. This monster allows praise to only one thing, praise to itself. It owns every newspaper, every school, and every temple. Without its permission, even flowers may not bloom.

More than 2000 years ago, Confucius said one should only serve the state if it is righteous. However, to become citizens of a modern society, I say we should criticise the government if it does not do the right thing, and we should also keep an eye on the government even if it is already doing the right thing.

Finally, I hope you believe me that I am not a class enemy, nor an overthrower of governments. All I want is to cage the monster. Yes, I am criticising my country, but that doesn't mean I hate my country. Rather, I love my country. I love her splendid mountains and rivers and her great civilisation. I appreciate the suffering she has experienced. In fact, I love my country even more because of the suffering she has been through. Yes, I am criticising her rotten system, but I do not want to see bloodshed while my country is improving herself. I hope the system will improve gracefully. I hope in the near future, in my country, flowers of freedom will blossom and children will smile without fear. I hope in the near future, my country, an ancient civilisation, a land of suffering, will become a nation of prosperity, peace and freedom, for all.

(This is an edited extract from Chinese author Murong Xuecun's recent speech at the Oslo House of Literature. Translation by Jane Weizhen Pan and Martin Merz. Murong Xuecun is the author of the novel Leave Me Alone: A Novel of Chengdu.)