China's Establishment Intellectuals, edited by Carol Lee Hamrin and Timothy Cheek—New York/London: M.E. Sharpe, Inc., 1986 (266 pp.)
After the Nightmare, by Liang Heng and Judith Shapiro—New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1986 (240 pp.)
These three new titles, on the surface, appear to have little in common. Each deals with a different theme: concepts of human rights in the first, Chinese intellectuals in the second, and post-Cultural Revolution mainland China in the third. However, the combination provides us a deeper understanding of Chinese traditional culture and society.
In the collection of essays on Human Rights in East Asia, Japan and the two Koreas are also included since, the editors note, these countries share cultural roots with the Chinese mainland and the Republic of China on Taiwan in the form of Confucian humanism. Citing, also, another common characteristic—defined as "a consensual (not adversarial) model of democracy"—Professor James C. Hsiung of New York University tells us that "human rights in East Asia do not have the same individualistic connotation—the individual's right to freedom and emancipation" commonly under stood by Westerners.
Confucianism, a major cultural influence in politics and society in East Asian countries, deeply affects intellectual thought and behavior, especially among the Chinese. One of its most obvious elements is respect for authority, whether of the state or of the family.
As a result, observes John Israel, in his forward to China's Establishment Intellectuals, all Chinese intellectuals have been "inextricably embedded in an authoritarian ruling elite" at one time or another. Though "the cooptation of intellectuals into bureaucratic alliances is by no means...a uniquely Chinese phenomenon," he adds, "anti-establishment intellectuals in China have less to gain and more to lose than their American counterparts." He cites, as an example, Wang Ruo-shui's removal from his post as deputy editor of Communist China's People's Daily, "for expressing critical ideas."
This may be further illustrated with the many examples in Liang Heng's new book, After the Nightmare, co-authored with his American wife, Judith Shapiro. Liang's own father, a former editor of the Communist paper Hunan Daily, "was denounced, beaten, and humiliated" during the Cultural Revolution "for taking the capitalist road in news reporting."
A founder and editor of the quarterly Chinese Intellectual, published in New York, Liang Heng, himself, typifies the Confucian tradition through his efforts to press mainland reform.
Individually, Human Rights in East Asia and China's Establishment Intellectuals are scholarly studies involving different concepts and personalities, by various professors. And After the Nightmare is but a personal account, with observations of one extensive trip back to China by a gifted Chinese-American couple.
Other contributors to Human Rights, beside Professor Hsiung, include Ardath W. Burks ("Japan: The Bellwether of East Asian Human Rights?"), professor emeritus of Asian studies at Rutgers University; Ilpyong Kim ("Human Rights in South Korea and U.S. Relations"), professor of political science at the University of Connecticut; Hung-chao Tai ("Human Rights in Taiwan: Convergence of Two Political Cultures?"), director of Asian studies at the University of Detroit; Richard W. Wilson ("Rights in the People's Republic of China"), professor of political science at Rutgers University; and Manwoo Lee ("North Korea and the Western Notion of Human Rights"), professor of political science at the University of Pennsylvania Millersville campus.
It should be pointed out here that China's Establishment Intellectuals is confined to studies of Communist China only, excluding the Republic of China in Taiwan and Chinese communities elsewhere. The particular subjects of study in this book are: Peng Chen, concerning his "evolving views on (Communist) party organization and law," by Pitman B. Potter, a doctoral student at the University of Washington; Yang Hsian-chen, concerning "upholding Orthodox Leninist theory," by Carol Lee Hamrin, a research specialist on China at the U.S. State Department; Teng Tuo, concerning his "Leninist approach to journalism," by Timothy Cheek, a doctoral candidate in history at Harvard; Sun Yeh-fang, concerning his work on socialist economics, by Barry J. Naughton, an assistant professor of economics at the University of Oregon; Wu Han, concerning being an "upright official," by Tom Fisher, a senior lecturer at La Trobe University, Melbourne, Australia; and Pai Hua, concerning his political authority as a writer, by Richard Kraus, who teaches Chinese politics at the University of Oregon. In addition, there's also a separate study on contemporary Communist Chinese youths, concerning their "growing alienation" from official party lines, by David Ownby, another doctoral candidate in history at Harvard.
For this reader, though, After the Nightmare has the major impact among the three, perhaps because it deals with those traditional Confucian virtues with which all Chinese can identify—such as: respect for parents, trust among friends, love between siblings, patience and per severance in adversity, etc,—and which are mirrored in both the real-life experiences of the author and through the intimate accounts of those who are closely related to him. In describing a dramatic, unexpected meeting between his long-divorced parents at his hotel, for instance, Liang writes:
At my urging, she (his mother) walked slowly to the waiting car and bent her head to look in the open window. "Old Liang," she said tentatively, "Hello." Father's mouth fell open. He looked at her without words, clutching his well-worn crutch. To me, it seemed an eternity. Although she knew about his stroke, Father's invalid appearance must have been a great shock to her.
"Old Liang," she said, her voice breaking, "take care of yourself." Tears streamed down her face, and she turned away, unable to continue. She walked quickly up the ramp into the hotel, and I did not pursue her. I climbed into the car next to Father and took his hand.
As we pulled away into the street, he seemed more dazed than anything else. "Her eyes," he finally said, "they don't seem so bright as before."
"Father!" I exclaimed, the tears breaking in my own throat. "It's been twenty-five years!"
"I feel sorry," Father whispered. He was silent for the remainder of the short distance to his home.
What makes this human tragedy so poignant is that Liang's parents were divorced not because of irreconcilable differences between husband and wife, but because of ideological absolutes under Communist rule which, Liang notes, "had led us Chinese (on the mainland) to treat one another in ways that ran counter to any human feeling."
Liang's retelling of composer Peng Ming's ordeal—his cruel treatment during imprisonment for ideological deviation under Mao Tse-tung—is another example of the general situation of human rights abuse in Communist China.
Basically, all three books complement one another in providing readers worldwide the information required to better understand the disappearing "inscrutable" Oriental.—(Dr. Chiang is a senior researcher-reporter with Time magazine, specializing in Asian affairs.)