Ian Buruma talked to numerous Chinese dissidents, both in mainland China and in exile, as well as to political activists in the other Chinese societies of Hong Kong, Singapore, and Taiwan. His findings are set forth in his latest book, Bad Elements.
If you have ever wondered what happened to the former student leaders of the 1989 Tiananmen demonstrations or to the veteran political activists and dissidents who have been forced to leave China, this book is for you. Ian Buruma sets out to understand the diverse range of interests and personalities that make up the dissident community in China, in exile, and in the culturally Chinese societies of Hong Kong, Singapore, and Taiwan. Throughout, Buruma and the people he profiles wrestle with some of the big issues that have confronted modern China: What does it mean to be Chinese? What is the proper relationship between individual and national interests? Are the obstacles to democracy in China primarily cultural or political? Although he does not try to provide definitive answers to these timeless questions, Buruma has written a captivating book that should be required reading for all those interested in China's present predicaments and future prospects.
The book is organized as both an intellectual and a geographical journey among "Chinese rebels." It begins with dissidents who went into exile, voluntarily or otherwise, after the 1989 Tiananmen demonstrations. Buruma profiles student leaders like Chai Ling, Li Lu, and Wu'er Kaixi (now living in Taiwan), describing their personal and professional lives since 1989, and their current thinking on their role in those events. He also visits veteran activists like Liu Binyan and Fang Lizhi; dissidents like Wei Jingsheng, Wang Xizhe, and other lesser known figures; intellectuals like Gong Xiaoxia, who now works for Radio Free Asia, and Su Xiaokang, a co-author of the River Elegy television documentary; and Dai Qing, one of the few remaining active dissidents who still has the freedom to travel in and out of China. In recounting their recent activities, we learn of their idiosyncrasies (such as Wei's belief in conspiracies against him and his fondness for shocking others by picking his feet or farting loudly) and the transformations some of them experienced after leaving China. But above all we learn of their uncompromising natures. Buruma describes Wei as being absolutely unwilling to give up the freedom to think for himself and speak the truth as he sees it whenever or wherever he feels like it. Efforts to make him change his ways, whether by prison guards, fellow dissidents, or well-meaning colleagues, only strengthen his conviction. "On this point he is uncompromising, a quality so rare, and dangerous, that it could easily be mistaken for madness."
Buruma then travels to Singapore, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, focusing not on dissidents in exile but on politicians and political activists who push for increased democratization and liberalization of their own governments. Each chapter focuses on a few politicians. In Singapore, we learn of Lee Kuan Yew's vision for Singapore, and Chia Thye Poh, Chee Soon Juan, and J.B. Jeyaretnam--democratic politicians who rejected Lee's authoritarian system and have paid a high personal and political price for their beliefs. In Taiwan, prominent politicians like Chen Shui-bian, Annette Lu, and Shih Ming-teh are mentioned, but more time is spent on the stories of Yu Teng-fa, the patriarch of Kaohsiung, and his family, and independence activists Chen Tan-sun and Huang Wen-hsiung, who spent many years in the United States before returning to public life in Taiwan. In Hong Kong, Buruma writes of democrats Martin Lee and Emily Lau, but more interesting are the stories of Lau San-ching, jailed for over ten years for helping dissidents within China, and Han Dongfang, who now runs a call-in radio talk show for Chinese workers, offering advice on solving their problems, and suffering from the knowledge that some have been punished for following his advice.
The journey continues into China, stopping first in Shenzhen, then onward through Sichuan and Tibet, and eventually reaching Beijing. Along the way, we meet prominent figures like He Qinglian (now in exile), Chen Yiyang, Ding Zilin, and Bao Tong. In a particularly poignant section, He Qinglian describes her reluctance to leave China. "Our voices in China are already so few. If I leave, that would mean one critic less." As Buruma notes, a year later she was forced to flee China. More interesting are the people he meets by happenstance during his travels. These people give fascinating, if not necessarily typical, opinions on the impacts of reform, prejudices against rural residents, Han-minority relations, the lingering effects of 1989, the appeal of religion and nationalism, and other contemporary topics. It is the spontaneous, unscripted nature of these encounters that makes them so illuminating.
The first section of the book, which focuses on the exiled dissidents who went to the United States, is perhaps the most fascinating. Even in exile, many of the student leaders remained committed to the dream of changing China, but their youth left them unprepared for the celebrity they enjoyed when they got to the United States. Wu'er Kaixi, Chai Ling, and Li Lu reported that they wanted to escape political ideals and instead pursue individualism and materialism--sentiments which made them pre-disposed to the American way of life. The same charisma and charm that made Chai and Li leaders in Tiananmen Square also made them successful in business. Others, such as Wang Chaohua, have kept a lower profile, prefer ring to remain in the academic field and away from politics and business. Veteran dissidents, such as Liu Binyan and Fang Lizhi, have not made the transition so well. They were not able to become so fluent in English and have had difficulty assimilating into American life, even in academic circles. Fang's wife, Li Shuxian, recounts the irony of her new life in Arizona, where she is finally free to talk but has no one to talk to.
More disconcerting is the bitter strife among the dissidents, such as Wei Jingsheng, Xu Wenli, and Wang Xizhe. Some are clearly bitter at Wei's status as one of the few Chinese dissidents whose name is recognized in the United States, and also do not agree with his iconoclastic views. Whereas in China, these disparate individuals had a common enemy--the Chinese Communist Party--in exile, their personal and political differences are more apparent. They are cut off from political dynamics within China, unfamiliar with the ongoing social and economic environment, and unable to influence the pro-democracy activities that they pioneered as far back as the 1970s. What is more, if China does democratize, they may not have much of a role in the new regime since they are so far removed from the scene. They are left with little more than their bitterness, rivalry, and frustration at their diminished role. They find it impossible to agree on how to change China, much less cooperate toward their shared goal.
Most of the older exiles are also angry at the student leaders, and Buruma argues that this anger "comes from the humiliation, the failure to shake off despotism, the indignity of not being free." Hopes were raised in 1989 that China could finally be free, but those hopes were soundly dashed on June 4. The failure of the protests is blamed, not on the state, but on the student leaders who are criticized for being selfish, immature, idealistic, and unwilling to compromise. The fact that so many of the student leaders have since avoided political activities to focus on their own careers reinforces this judgment.
This introduces one of several themes that recur throughout the book: the importance of attitude, sincerity, and character in evaluating the motives and actions of others. Many of the exiles told Buruma that the alleged complexity of Chinese culture makes it impossible for foreigners, even specialists, to understand China. According to Liu Binyan, "We Chinese are too complicated, too clever at playing tricks. Confucian culture makes people hypocritical.... I think we inherited these problems. They are in our blood." From these and other similar statements, we are left with the impression that the problem is not that the complexity of China's culture prevents foreigners from understanding China, but that it prevents Chinese, particularly the rebels in exile, from understanding one another. Buruma describes this sentiment, which he encounters throughout the journey, as "this cultural self-loathing, this despair of being Chinese," a viewpoint best expressed in Bo Yang's The Ugly Chinaman.
Another theme is the importance of religion among the rebels. Many of the rebels came from Christian families or turned to Christianity after leaving China. Others examined Christianity, but in the end turned away. Although Buruma identifies this surprising common link among Chinese rebels throughout the book, many of the rebels themselves (such as Han Dongfang) seemed reluctant to talk about their faith or its influence on their political activities. This theme has not received much attention by other journalists and scholars, and merits additional research to gauge the influence of this purported link. In most cases, the religious faith seemed instrumental: religious values will help make China rich, stable, modern. Like the traditional emphasis on collective interests and national well-being, much of the interest in religion--at least as it is portrayed in this book--is that it will benefit the nation as much as the individual. Rather than being a personal relationship with God, which is stressed in the West, the people Buruma interviews portray religious faith as a route to a better China.
This interest in religion leads to different kinds of rebels. Within China, simply showing an interest in religion makes one suspect. Buruma describes several Han Chinese who have converted to Christianity or Buddhism, as well as Tibetans and Moslems who have an interest in exploring their religious roots. Most of them do not view their interest in religion as politically motivated, even though the state's response to the spreading popularity of religion, and even the response of fellow citizens and friends and family, is overtly political. Although the faithful are motivated by a combination of personal and national well-being, their critics question their loyalty to the government.
Another theme is the often surprising sense of nationalism felt by most of the people portrayed in the book. Many of the rebels in exile remain committed to improving China and look forward to the day when they can return freely, without having to negotiate humiliating terms with the current regime. The rebels in Singapore, Taiwan, and Hong Kong are focused more on local identity than greater China, but have struggled for years to accomplish their goals despite the enormous personal costs they have suffered. Within China, the "bad elements" that Buruma documents do not necessarily seek fundamental political change, but more often just want to examine the past, to "live within the truth," as Vaclav Havel put it, rather than have to acquiesce to the official line. In a country whose people take great pride in its long and accomplished history, it is ironic and sad that much of its recent history is being lost under a blanket of self-imposed silence. In his travels, Buruma meets several people whose children cannot learn about their grandparents' lives or even their parents' involvement in 1989. To know these truths would only complicate their young lives by leading them to ask inconvenient questions. In the process, political history is whitewashed and personal histories are erased. Because recent events cannot be discussed openly, nationalist feelings are based on more distant history or the promise of the future, not the reality of the present.
Despite the often disheartening content of the book, it is nevertheless a joy to read. Buruma addresses these weighty issues with a light touch, offering his own viewpoints throughout, but also maintaining a sympathetic perspective on the people he encounters and how the tragic experiences of their lives, especially years in prison, have shaped their beliefs and influenced their actions. It is both fascinating and depressing to read about the personal experiences and motivations of the rebels described in this book. Buruma does not believe, as so many rebels told him, that a cultural or spiritual transformation must precede political change. He shares Wei Jingsheng's concern that the longer the transition to democracy is delayed, the more violent the process will be. Ironically, Buruma shows how Chinese attitudes toward their own culture may be an obstacle to political change, even among those who do not support the regime in Beijing.
Bruce J. Dickson is associate professor of
political science and international affairs
at the George Washington University. He is
the author of China's Red Capitalists: The
Party, Private Entrepreneurs, and
Prospects for Political Change (forthcoming)
and Democratization in China and Taiwan:
The Adaptability of Leninist Parties.
Copyright 2002 by Bruce J. Dickson.