[There is an alternative view in the party’s report last
month on culture, one that hints at a less rigorous official stance. That view
points to other snippets of the report — led, ironically, by a famous statement
by Mao Zedong, the leader whose Cultural Revolution plunged China into years of repression and torment.]
By Michael Wines
Shiho Fukada for The New York Times
|
The
question is how to square that goal with what just happened to Yue Luping.
Mr. Yue, a
professional artist for more than 10 years, was preparing his works for an
exhibition in the Shunyi District of north Beijing last month when government officials and police officers
abruptly canceled the show.
The next
day, he said, agents of the local Public Security Bureau interrogated him about
one work, a collection of peppercorns arranged to form numbers. Security
officers had already photographed the piece, studied it for an entire night and
consulted cryptography experts to divine its message.
As they
eventually discovered, the numbers were in a computer language, Unicode, spelling out five phrases that Chinese censors have
banned from the results of Internet search engines. And the pungent peppercorns
were a metaphor for what Mr. Yue called people’s undue sensitivity to ordinary
words.
“It’s very
ironic,” Mr. Yue, 36, said in an interview last week. “On the one hand, they
want to boost cultural development. And on the other, they call off our
exhibition.”
Ironic is
one way to describe it. But viewed against the language of the party’s
declaration on culture — the Oct. 25 report on the annual Central Committee
plenum, held last month — there is not much inconsistency at all, some analysts
say.
Rather,
they suggest, the leaders’ approach to building a world-class culture is not
all that different from the one that powered China ’s economic miracle: set a long-term goal, adopt rigid
specifications, pour in copious amounts of public money, monitor closely to
ensure the desired result.
In this
case, as the report repeatedly stated,
the specifications are to adhere to “core socialist values” in cultural
activities. The desired result is “to build our country into a socialist
culture superpower.”
The
monitoring affects artists like Mr. Yue and Yu Jianrong, a painter and
photographer whose works — on the petitions prepared annually by thousands of
ordinary Chinese whose grievances have been ignored by the government — were
banned two weeks ago from being exhibited in Songzhuang, a suburban Beijing
artists’ colony.
Mr. Yu
declined to be interviewed. But The South China Morning Post in Hong Kong
quoted a microblog post, since deleted, in which Mr. Yu wrote that exhibition
officials in Songzhuang had told him that “the situation this year is tense,
and no sensitive topics are allowed.”
Such tales
show that there is nothing ironic about the current censorship, said Zhang
Ming, a political science professor at Renmin University of China.
“The
government is overconfident about controlling art,” he said. “They think as
long as they provide money and they provide a value orientation, there can be
good art produced. This is not surprising at all, because they have never
experienced the process of free expression.”
In that
view, the notion is lost on Chinese leaders that a great culture — whether in
painting, science or journalism — rests on people’s abilities to push the
boundaries of creativity, no matter whom it offends.
There is
much to support that view, including the arrest in April of the internationally famous artist and dissident Ai Weiwei and the banning of literature like “The Fat Years,” Chan Koonchung’s bleak depiction of a
China-dominated future.
Not a few
officially approved commentaries cast Chinese culture as a sort of zero-sum
contest with its rivals. Xinhua, the government news agency, described the challenge last month as an “international cultural
competition,” in which controlling the world stage is one more hurdle to
surmount in a triathlon toward global greatness.
“Chinese
cultural companies have yet to produce a world-famous brand,” that commentary
groused, offering a litany of shortcomings: China ’s television programs have an “embarrassing” export
record; its total published literature does not approach the output of a single
German firm, Bertelsmann.
Most
embarrassing, the 1998 animated film “Mulan,” based on a Chinese heroine, was
produced by the Walt Disney Studios in California . “China has yet to produce an animated film as internationally
successful,” the commentary said.
There is
an alternative view in the party’s report last month on culture, one that hints
at a less rigorous official stance. That view points to other snippets of the
report — led, ironically, by a famous statement by Mao Zedong, the leader whose
Cultural Revolution plunged China into years of repression and torment.
But before
that, in 1956, Mao made a famous speech in which he summoned ordinary Chinese
to speak out about their needs: “Let a hundred flowers bloom,” he said, “and a
hundred schools of thoughts contend.”
The report
repeated those words verbatim, citing them as a guiding principle for China ’s cultural development. Other passages call for an
“opening and reform” in China ’s cultural development, echoing the economic approach to
the rest of the world that spurred China ’s growth over the last two decades.
Liang
Xiaosheng, an author and a government-appointed member of China ’s legislative advisory body, said last week that Mao’s
statement and other clauses in the report are a muted call for more artistic
freedom, at least over the long haul.
“In China , the policy won’t be quickly carried out because the
executors need a digesting and understanding process,” he said. “Even a small
step for China may take as long as 10 years.”
People
here pay great attention to history. Mao’s hundred-flowers campaign was a
disaster. Freed to say their piece, intellectuals denounced government
repression and incompetence, and party leaders quickly reverted to a crackdown
on expression.
It may not
be lost on the creative community that Mao quickly replaced his hundred-flowers
campaign with an anti-rightist movement in which hundreds of thousands of
intellectuals were stripped of their jobs, with many of them sent to labor
camps. Mao later said he had been seeking to lure the snakes from their dens in
order to cut off their heads.
In China , then as now, liberalization and crackdown reliably — and
unpredictably — ebb and flow.
Free-thinking
students spawned the Tiananmen Square demonstrations, which, in turn, provoked
a new crackdown that has lasted to this day.Which may explain one genuine
irony: when asked, some of the artists who organized the Shunyi and Songzhuang
exhibitions chose to pretend that their colleagues were not censored at all.
Free-speech
principles or not, some artists here appear to have no appetite for trouble.
“There is
some misunderstanding going on,” Shen Qibing, an organizer of the exhibition
that was to have shown Mr. Yue’s peppercorn art, said in a telephone interview.
“The exhibition was called off because more and more artists are trying to sign
up for the exhibition, and we feel we have a lot of work to do.
“I am the
executive organizer,” he said. “I know what is going on. Some of the artists
try to exaggerate things.”
SOUTH KOREA APPROVES SENDING MEDICAL AID TO NORTH
[While South Korea remains frustrated with the North’s
persistence in its nuclear program, it has faced growing appeals from
international relief agencies calling for aid shipments, arguing that the
North’s most vulnerable should not be punished for their government’s deeds.
The United Nations humanitarian chief, Valerie Amos, said last month that 6
million North Koreans are in urgent need of food aid.]
By Choe Sang-Hun
The
decision, the latest sign of easing tensions on the Korean Peninsula, “was
based upon our belief that purely humanitarian support for the young and
vulnerable in North Korea should continue,” a senior Unification Ministry
official told reporters Tuesday during a briefing given on condition of
anonymity.
In 2009, South Korea donated $13 million for a W.H.O. program to send medicine
and medical supplies to the North. But it asked the United Nations agency to
suspend distribution of the money after the March 2010 sinking of a South
Korean warship, the Cheonan. Seoul says the North torpedoed the ship, killing 46 sailors. North Korea rejects the accusations.
On
Tuesday, the Unification Ministry accepted W.H.O.’s request to distribute the
remaining South Korean money, totaling about $7 million, the official said.
Unification
Minister Yu Woo-ik told the United Nations secretary general, Ban Ki-moon, in New York on Saturday that his government would consider sending aid
to the North through the world body.
Recent
months have seen some easing of tensions on the divided Korean Peninsula, with
the government in Pyongyang signaling a possible willingness to resume talks on
ending its nuclear weapons program and the government in Seoul
easing restrictions on nongovernmental aid shipments to the North.
While South Korea remains frustrated with the North’s persistence in its
nuclear program, it has faced growing appeals from international relief
agencies calling for aid shipments, arguing that the North’s most vulnerable
should not be punished for their government’s deeds. The United Nations
humanitarian chief, Valerie Amos, said last month that 6 million North Koreans
are in urgent need of food aid.
Aid
organizations have warned South Korea that the malnutrition that has plagued two generations in
the North will have consequences for a united Korea , should reunification one day occur. North Korean children
on average are considerably shorter than their South Korean counterparts, and
doctors have reported signs of malnutrition hindering North Korean children’s
cognitive development.
South
Korean officials say they are ready to step in with significant aid shipments
in the event of another nationwide food crisis in the North, but they say that
with harvest season having just begun, the chronic food shortages there have
not reached crisis level.