Finding good in Sodom: Leung Man-tao on Xu Zhiyong

Today Xu Zhiyong’s arrest was formally declared. Leung Man-tao (梁文道), a social commentator and TV critic who has published books as well as written numerous newspaper articles and blog posts, penned a blog post on August 13 inspired by Xu’s disappearance and the rape of a petitioner at the Juyuan Hotel in Beijing this month.

The post has been deleted from my1510.cn, a liberal blog aggregator, and it doesn’t seem to be on Leung Man-tao’s Sina or Phoenix blogs.

The article does seem to be available on this Douban topic discussion, for now.

Leung uses addresses a mysterious “You” in the post, and towards the end his tone is sardonic, but beginning with a serious note about Xu Zhiyong.

Welcome to Sodom, and let me introduce to you the few philanthropists left in this city.

Xu Zhiyong is an example. Zheng Yongxin (郑咏欣), a middle school student from Hong Kong, wrote an open letter on behalf of Xu recently in the newspaper, asking Wen Jiabao to “convince me using the principles of the law.” Reasonable and making one sigh with regret, this was a focal point for some time. From my point of view, what made me most depressed was when Miss Zheng recorded Xu Zhiyong’s words to her a few months before his arrest. He told her not to just see the petitioner-barring Public Security forces as barbaric, but pay attention to the things that are getting better; this is what he said: “The Chinese government are working hard, and you have to be more tolerant!” (“中国政府已很努力，要对政府有多点耐性!”)

You know that every time Hong Kong and Taiwan does an overview of the situation of the interior today, someone will criticizes my position as too flirtatious, and my attitude too soft. They think that the Chinese government is still that big ferocious beast in the sea, a despotic dictatorship, ingesting countless men, without any hope for moderation or change. Yet each time I would tell them that the real circumstances are more complicated, and to avoid simplifying and generalizing China’s problems, and not to use rooted prejudgements to see China, and to “be more tolerant.”

My friend Xu Zhiyuan (许志远) also wrote a deeply moving essay, “Our Generation,” (“我们这个时代”) in which he wrote that two years ago Xu Zhiyong had spiritedly said to him: “The 2008 Olympics will bring along with it a huge opportunity for reform. When the whole world has its eyes on Beijing, political authority will be restrained, and different grassroots organizations will use the opportunity to expand civil society.” I am not unfamiliar with this speech because I have expressed similar opinions: I was once full of hope for a China that had experienced the Wenchuan earthquake and the Beijing Olympics. Whenever a foreign journalist finds me to discuss China’s dark aspects, I would remind them at the end to always look on the bright side of things, just as I once reminded you to do.

And that brighter side included Xu Zhiyong and his partners at Gongmeng, and the rising group of rights lawyers, and the countless other warm-hearted people who want to do good things. But this country’s corruption, this social coldness, it’s as if everything is maintained through the tacit understanding of 1.3 billion people and certain lies. Even so, there are still many people who give up their time and go hither and thither for other people’s children, such as Tan Zuoren; and there are also many people willing to sacrifice the life that they could have enjoyed, instead choosing to knock doors for their fellows in trouble, such as Xu Zhiyong. I even optimistically put the government into this category, because at least they once let the rays of light sway in the murkiness. Perhaps they too will be swept up with it, and when they put in a vote by their foot, they’ll see how important the existence of good people is. If Heaven permits that you’re able to find someone good in Sodom.

They send their own children to study abroad, to freely go to school and grow up; but they let our children shoulder the burdens and receive laughable “education.” They get their own families to move to the US and Europe, to enjoy clean waters and clean air; but leave for us a scarred and poisoned landscape. The country is corrupt and society cold, and now they’re killing people and threatening others so they won’t become good people. Right, so you’re being robbed on the bus, and crying aloud for help, but find that not one single person raises a hand to help, turning their head; don’t be surprised because we encourage these social values.

But it can also be fine if you want to be a good person, the prerequisite is that it wasn’t your idea. When they “motivate” you, it won’t be too late to start thinking kindly, just like an actor altering their emotions and making their tear ducts work. Here, the good people better be actors who are complicit with the government, philanthropy is an acting skill that needs to be learnt; the requisites for being kind doesn’t fall from the sky above you, and also does not come from the morality inside your heart. It’s decided by Gandong Zhongguo’s* rules. Whatever you do, be careful, if you know that someone has bullied a woman, you can’t casually report on it because you don’t know who the rapist is; but if you hear that volunteers are being called for a sports event, you will quickly sign up and not lag behind anyone else.

Let’s forget Xu Zhiyong, and forget those people who are “good” in your heart, don’t use your high ideals to judge us, because we Chinese have our own models and moral meter.

Oh yeah, did you hear about the Juyuan Hotel near the Beijing South Railway Station? Inside many barred petitioners are imprisoned － the kind of people that Xu Zhiyong would have helped. Their living conditions are really terrible, and the people looking after them very violent － they sometimes rape the weaker girls. Xu Zhiyong knows this, but he still told the girl from Hong Kong to “be more tolerant towards the government;” because he’s too kind.

Now the good Tan Zuoren and Xu Zhiyong have finally disappeared, and those petitioners are still in Juyuan Hotel crying for help. They sing in the middle of night in the hope that someone outside will notice. It’s said that they sing Internationale with Zhongnan Hai just 5km away; it’s said that they sing The East is Red with Mao’s Mausoleum only 5km away. The singing starts with indignation and turns into wretchedness, until they’re choking with tears; the light from the street outside is lonesome.

I don’t know what kind of report you will make when you go back. You understand, Chinese people don’t believe in evil. I have long ago turned my back on you and all that you represent. Today, I will stay here and wait for the huge waves made by the Leviathan.

Another friend of mine, the Taiwan critic Yang Zhao (杨照), once wrote in Taiwan After Ten Years (“十年后的台湾”) this passage, which I repeatedly quote:

I can remember, I can distinctly remember, when I was young, the Formosa Incident and the big shock of the military trial, and feeling the tragedy of that period of history: the KMT system, which became a beast, feasting on generations and generations of democracy activists. The earlier generation was swallowed, and this breast thinks: no one will dare go against my will again. No, the new generation will stand in front of the beast knowing that they will be sacrificed, but that even though they are so scared that they’re shaking, they’re still standing there. Because letting the beast swallow them up is the only thing that they can do independently: it’s the only action that proves that their independence still exists, and they can’t give up.

He continues to say: “I have never seen myself as a brave person, but in that moment, I predicted tragically － when the time comes, the people of my generation will take up the baton of democracy, overcome their over-cautiousness and indecision, to stand in front of the beast, and will be watched, pursued and put into prison by omnipresent totalitarianism.”

I know that I’m not a philanthropist, but I put faith in the lessons of the future that I will be able to prove myself. In Sodom, a city full of evil ways, the philanthropist will use their own withering ends to prove that are still philanthropists.

Note: Gandong Zhongguo (感动中国) is an annual CCTV show that selects the year’s figures to highlight, rendered in a way that is often sentimental and sometimes cheesy. Previous figures, according to the Baidu entry, include Aids activist Gao Yaojie and in 2008 Jin Jing (金晶), who was the wheelchair-bound Olympic torch carrier.