Wu Wenjie, bassist for GAR. Behind him, Wang Xu on the drums. And behind him ... anonymous Chinese peasant on the pickaxe?
I didn’t make it as far up front as the mosh pit at the gig pictured above. This was disappointing to the inner mosh pitter who lurks deep – deep – inside every public school Brit, but one benefit was a dry and cigarette-ash free camera to take the video clips below with.
The gig was part of the ‘Plastered Rock Weekend’ at Yugongyishan, on the 19th. I would love to claim that the mother of all rock and roll hangovers is why I’m posting ten days later (one day for each pint of baijiu!), but with a sigh I’ll admit that homework was a bigger reason. To further crush the image, the ‘plastered’ bit in the event’s title is down to it’s having been sponsored by Plastered T-Shirts and is not a reference to the British slang word for drunk (see: pissed, blattered, blasted, wasted, wankered, off your face).
Playing on the night were GAR, Carsick Cars and P.K.14. Those are three top names in an ever-growing roster of bands to watch in the emerging Chinese underground rock scene. The mosh pit and otherwise packed venue – expats far outnumbered by locals – was a testament to the growing numbers of young Chinese listening to this music. Indeed, it was a relief to chat with Chinese students about music other than Britney Spears, as I did so often with Marie.
The week before the gig, I heard Michael Pettis, owner of D22, give a talk on Beijing’s rock scene. As little as five or six years ago, he said, bands like this were getting their first gigs in a scene which was only beginning to attract notice. But his guess is that in thirty years time, the world will be as familiar with Chinese contemporary music as they are with US culture now. The first well known Chinese rocker was Cui Jian, in the mid 1980s: this was the so called ‘generation one’. We are now – conveniently, given the title of this blog – at ‘generation six’. And Pettis compares the Chinese scene now to America in the early 60s – right about to explode. Of course, he would say that, he runs the rock club.
But the music itself is certainly explosive. I’ve had the Carsick Cars’ self titled album on repeat all week – other names to myspace are Joyside and Hedgehog. So without further ado, here are three clips from the night, one from each band. Stay with it until 2.47, and you will be rewarded with a crowd surfer!
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PS – as an addendum, here is an interesting interview Michael Pettis did for Danwei with Zhang Shouwang, lead singer of the Carsick Cars and – according to Pettis – the closest thing my generation in China has for a spokesman. Here’s a quote:
Michael Pettis: Can you say a few words to sum up this generation of Chinese youth?
Zhang Shouwang: I think one thing we all have in common is that there is such a huge gap in our experiences and understanding compared to Chinese who are in their mid-thirties or older. It seems that we live in very different worlds. More and more of us are exploring new ways of thinking and living, and I see this even more for young people who are four or five years younger than me.
I think many of us feel that much of what we learned in school and in the media was not really true, or perhaps didn’t really fit our lives, and so we are reading books, listening to music, and sharing ideas that are very different from what we had been given. I think very few of our generation have beliefs the way older Chinese do. We believe in real things, and we find it hard to take seriously all the big, empty ideas that we were given.
Out in the far flung South-Westerly suburbs of Beijing, Songzhuang is an unofficial artists village. ‘Suburb’ is a misleading term: just an hour’s drive from highrise Guomao, it looks more like the countryside. Lining its dusty streets are eerily accurate reproductions of Renaissance masterworks, side by side with exciting new works by Chinese contemporary artists (with lamb kebab grills filling in the gaps). And even further flung in this ‘village’ lives a French artist, who first came to China in 1988 and has been living in this artists’ community for over ten years. She has a very cool house, every available wall space filled with paintings and sculptures by herself or her friends (it was one of these friends who invited me along for a look).
If I’m back for a closer look at the area, I will write more. It strikes me as more ‘real’ than 798. For the moment, here are some snaps of the French artist’s home (she asks to be anonymous):
Here, with permission, is a long email from a friend of mine, Scott Moore, who was in Beijing this last year to study China’s impact on environmental and energy problems. He wrote a blog from here, China Greenspace (blogspot, so blocked in China), and his brain tends to emit a faint buzzing sound from the amount of information he fits in there.
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“A year ago I arrived in China to begin my Fulbright grant at Peking University in Beijing, which I completed in July. Since then I have been interning at the US Department of Energy China Office, which is part of the Embassy. As I prepare to return home (I write this in the airport…), I thought you might be interested in some reflections on my experience here.
I believe that to live in China is to feel oneself at the center of something important, to feel the pull of tidal forces that are shaping the future. Any experience here is (or at least should be, in my mind…) colored by big questions, including China’s rise as a world power, its vast social challenges, etc. The differences between China and America, too, are obvious and numerous enough to easily preoccupy one’s thinking. But for all that, the most vivid impression from my time in China is the simple reminder that people are basically the same, generous and kind, and desirous of friendship and opportunity. If nothing else, my year here has provided a poignant reminder of that basic truth!
But beyond that, there is also an earnestness that seems to permeate Chinese society. I think, perhaps at the risk of over-generalizing, that life in modern China is shaped by a basic optimism and sense of possibility and opportunity. One of my most fundamental impressions of China is of a nation obsessed with building itself—I just don’t think anyone has a vision of the end result.
Which brings me to my reason for coming to China in the first place. I was interested in how China is responding to and dealing with the drastic environmental change wrought by its rapid development. As you might imagine with a topic like that, I hardly scratched the surface, let alone plumbed the depths (especially given China’s many distractions – so many cuisines, so little time). But in broad terms, I think the right way to think about China’s environmental future lies in some accommodation between two basic truths.
The first is that China has done a great deal, perhaps more so than any other country in the world at a comparable stage of development, to blunt the environmental impact of its development. China’s people have no desire to tolerate severe air, water, and soil pollution, and its leaders are eager to move the country to a less-resource-intensive, greener economic model (they, too, read reports claiming that the next economic revolution will be a green one!). In short, China gets it.
The government has set out a number of policies to minimize resource consumption, improve energy efficiency, and, more recently, to control its greenhouse gas emissions. China has programs that are little-known, but of staggering scale, to encourage afforestation and the use of renewable energy in rural areas. Environmental NGOs represent one of the most vibrant civil society sectors in China, and green consumerism and corporate social responsibility are growth areas. In these and several other respects, I believe China has made a serious effort to set out a vision for sustainable development, which again to its credit nobody has really ever done (despite constant references to sustainability in Europe and the US). You certainly don’t find a model for sustainable growth in the records of Western countries!
But the other side of the equation is that China’s efforts do not come close to preventing or ameliorating devastating ecological consequences, both for itself and the world at large. For one thing, some its accomplishments, which look impressive on paper, are paper tigers. Torrid growth in renewable energy, for example, masks serious issues with actually channeling the electricity produced to the grid. Greenwashing is common – China has a phrase, shengtai wenming, or “ecological civilization,†that seems to mean little apart from appearing on signage against a green background. But even more serious are the macro-scale, out-standing sustainability challenges that China will need to tackle over the next thirty to fifty years.
The first of these is to decrease the proportion of coal in its energy mix. Coal is extremely dirty, both from the perspective of environmental health and its contribution to climate change. However, it is cheap and abundant, promoting both energy security and grist for rapid industrial development. While there are many efforts to burn coal more cleanly, or to sequester its carbon content during combustion, there is little in the way of proven technology, and widespread deployment of these technologies is likely to be extremely expensive. Large infusions of cash, and the attention of thousands of researchers, are needed if these kinds of technologies can be made commercially viable.
The second challenge is to accommodate tens of millions of new urban dwellers in energy efficient buildings linked to sustainable transport systems. Estimates of the impact of China’s urbanization in coming decades are breathtaking – the entire population of the United States (300 million people) could move to cities, and be accommodated in some 50,000 new skyscrapers, by 2030. To avoid being swamped by a tidal wave of cars, smog, and other emissions, these new urbanites will have to live, work, and play in buildings that maximize the use of natural light, incorporate renewable energy sources like solar and wind and use cutting-edge insulation, and travel by subway, light rail, bus, bike, electric car and foot. If this is to happen, China needs massive assistance in improving energy modeling and in developing the sustainable design and planning sector.
Third, China’s water resource management system needs an overhaul. As a result of climate change, massive shifts in the distribution and availability of water throughout the country will imperil agriculture and rural development. Adaptation is probably feasible, but it will be expensive. Large investment in water storage, efficient irrigation, flood control, and water conservation technologies will be required. Moreover, China will need to accelerate water price reform, to encourage conservation, something that is politically unpalatable since the burden falls on poor rural farmers. Better water allocation systems also need to be developed– one promising method is payment for ecosystem services (PES), whereby downstream water users, like urban industry, pay upstream “guardians,†like those living in headwater regions, to preserve forest land to prevent erosion and upstream water pollution.
Finally, China will need to rebalance its mode of development in several crucial respects. It must ease the disparity between the coasts and inland regions, but even more crucially it must allow and encourage the growth of public interest institutions—independent media, NGOs, citizen groups, and litigation. Since the founding of the People’s Republic, China has operated on the assumption that the Communist Party can best serve the country’s interests. Whether that was ever true is of course in my mind very doubtful, but in any case it’s clear that China is now too complex a place for one institution to do what’s best and right for the country as a whole. For the environment as in other issue areas, state-led capitalism has to be replaced with a richer, more complex, and more durable fabric of actors. China’s pollution and land use challenges will certainly never be solved by government fiat – the pressure of outside institutions is essential, as it was in the United States and other nations.
This last claim leads me to my final reflection, on China’s political future and relations with the United States. Having lived here for a year, I do of course have deep appreciation for many things about China, especially its people. I also believe that, at its best, China’s current regime and political system can effectively guide China towards a sustainable and liberal future. But I have little faith that China’s government will often act at its best. Like most political parties elsewhere in the world, the Chinese Communist Party is interested principally in maintaining power. Other interests, including those of the public, are subsidiary. In the absence of strong countervailing influences (which, in fairness, may yet emerge—never underestimate China), I believe that China’s political system will continue to be prone to corruption, injustice, and occasional extreme brutality (some of you may recall my email on my experiences in Xinjiang).
In my view, this state of affairs will have two primary consequences. The first is to increase the chance of acute civil strife. I am not one of those who believe that China is a powder keg waiting to explode. But there are several potential social time bombs—the most evident is the issue of self-determination for minority nationalities. Moreover, in general terms, I think that China may be headed for a severe identity crisis. The task of economic development has for the past thirty years provided a unifying mission for China, forestalling a coming to terms with its traumatic recent history, including the Cultural Revolution. At some point in the near future, I believe that this unifying thread to Chinese society will start to fray (perhaps it has already), and at that point serious questions will start to be asked about modern China and where it is headed. Beyond the general vision of becoming a developed country, I don’t think anyone has the answer, and that question will become increasingly important and divisive. One influence I fear could be decisive is that of extreme Han nationalism. I personally find this phenomenon terrifying, reliant as it is on xenophobia and bigotry. It is certainly not a dominant social influence at present, but it is virulent, and in a chaotic social situation I could see it gaining a great deal of influence.
The second consequence is that US-China relations may come to be increasingly defined by compromises on traditional American values. By this I mean generally Wilsonian liberalism, valuing human rights and the promotion of democracy abroad. There is no question that the US and China will need to cooperate as equal partners on a huge range of issues, from climate change to North Korea to global currency reserves. But to do so it America will have to downplay, or at least set aside, its traditional critiques of Chinese policy towards Tibet, Xinjiang, Taiwan, and other human rights and values issues. In my mind, some progress is to be made by recalibrating human rights relations – if it is approached more as a dialogue on the challenges and ultimate benefits of building a multicultural and open society, in which the US has long experience, more headway might be made. But I think Americans will increasingly have to come to terms with the idea that their most important partner country is one which has fundamentally different political and social values.
One final thought: for the issue I’ve focused most intensely on, climate change, much will be determined by US-China cooperation in the coming months and years. I remain optimistic that such a partnership can avert the worst consequences of climate change, though some are inevitable. But it will mean a fundamental shift in economy, politics, and society. We will have to approach the entire earth system as something to be managed – the atmosphere as a common resource, and things like industrial structure as the concern of all countries, not only one. If this all is to come to pass, reflections like these I’ve offered on what distinguishes China will become far less important than those on what binds us all together.”
And I’m not talking about that bootleg copy of Adam Smith you bought on an overpass for ten kuai (down from fifty because you’re a guizi). I’m talking contemporary books, often with Western takes on China, translated into Chinese and published officially, on sale in Xinhua bookstores.
The answer is yes, as testified by the publication of this book* by the Oriental Publishing House (dongfang chubanshe) last spring – translated into Chinese by none other than Six contributor Jack. Jack worked on it for most of 2007, while still in full time study – I remember him asking me with great concern that summer if ‘council housing’ meant ‘parliamentary housing’ as he thought it did.
The Downing Street living conditions of Britain’s poorest rectified, Jack’s translation is thorough and faithful. But it’s no surprise, I guess, that the references to the 1989 student protests in the book are nowhere to be found. At the publishing house itself (hammer and sickle flag on the table right next to the communist stars), we were told this is because potential readers might not understand such references, or be offended by them, and therefore not buy the book.
This is of course complete rubbish if presented as the only reason for censorship. It was echoed again when I met up privately with a young Renmin University graduate who works at the publishing house: fear of losing profit was the motivation for cutting those bits out, not fear of political whiplash. She assured me there was no government interference at their editorial round table. She also repeated what her boss had said: that, “by the way”, the presentation of 6/4 in Western books tended to be very “bloodied”.
The publishing house also asked Jack to write a preface for the book. They clearly had in mind that he would distance their company from the ideas which were to follow. To this end, there are liberal reminders in the preface that the book is written “from the perspective of Western culture”, and Jack’s penultimate paragraph tells readers:
Many of the thoughts included in this book, it should be said, are relatively typical of the Western world, reflecting Western scholars’ outlook and their environment, and there are some points of view and statements that we cannot fully agree to. The translation and publishing of this book in China is only so that readers can open the window of understanding to the West, and to have a positive effect on advancing communication between the two sides.**
So the answer to my question is ‘yes’ but a cagey ‘yes’: Chinese translations of Western writings are the book, nothing but the book, but not necessarily the whole book. I gather that only very few Western books are actually banned from publication in China, including Bill Clinton’s My Life. [or that was what the publisher told me at the time, and turns out to be completely wrong, thus exposing my fact-checking nudity]
Still, in an ever opening China, it’s the ‘yes’ that counts and not its myriad qualifications.
*Update*: here’s an email from Jeffrey Wasserstrom, professor of history at UC Irvine and founding China Beatnik:
I’d amend [your post] a bit to say that almost anything can be published that isn’t specifically about China, with just some tweaks and cuts (and I’ve found it fascinating that for some time, Orwell’s work has been more readily available in China than tended to be in Central and Eastern Europe when under Communist Party rule). But as for books specifically about China, that’s a different matter. It is a hard thing to track, but certain subjects are off-limits, and sometimes it seems, a China specialist author is treated as non-suitable for translation no matter what he or she is writing about…
Below is a new essay for 6 by Jack, with my thanks.
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The visits of US leaders to Beijing, including Hillary Clinton, Nancy Pelosi and Timothy Geithner, seem to show a fundamental change in Sino-American relations. As The New York Times put it:
China is growing more assertive on the international stage, and Washington is seeking to find ways to cooperate with Beijing on everything from economic reforms to climate change.
Washington is now showing the most kindness to Beijing, the only possible crutch in the eyes of American decision-makers to help the US out of the crisis. All of a sudden, the common model of past Sino-American engagement, that is ‘US pushes – China responds’, appears to be transforming with more weight on the side of China. In my opinion, the financial crisis has indeed heralded a period of transition for the balance of the two countries’ relationship, but a lot of questions are yet to be answered: what will be the result of the change? how long and how big will the change be? Facing such uncertainty, there is no room for complacency for the Chinese. On the one hand, within our capacity, we are facing a challenging task to find solutions to international issues. On the other hand, we should be fully aware of our own weaknesses and address them through deepening reform and opening-up.
First, the US, as well as other countries, expects more from China on the international stage. There are currently three hot issues between China and the US, namely, financial crisis, regional security and climate change. But it is very difficult for today’s China to resolve these problems.
On financial crisis, the US hopes that China could continue to buy its treasury bonds when China’s large holdings of these assets are already on the verge of major devaluation. The US makes money simply by turning on its bank-note printing machine, while China is using the general public’s hard-earned money to buy them. This is not sustainable. But due to the close connection between these two countries, China will also suffer if the US economy collapses. China has proposed to strengthen the importance of Special Drawing Rights and accelerate the internationalization of RMB. How can we strike a balance between short-term and long-term solutions? This is a pressing issue for us to deal with.
On regional security, there has appeared a great uncertainty as DPRK withdrew from the six-party talks and Kim Jung-il identified his successor. In addition, ROK is having a big domestic problem after Roh Moo-hyun committed suicide. How much influence does China have over DPRK? What will happen in Kim Jong-un’s DPRK? Can DPRK and ROK get together again? So many variables are looming before the Korean Peninsula could be denuclearized – daunting and complicated are the tasks for China.
On climate change, the US and China are trying to reach a common understanding before the Copenhagen conference late this year. Currently the 40% emission reduction goal raised by China seems to be too high for the U.S., while the mandatory reduction requirement proposed by the US is unacceptable for Beijing. The two countries are engaging intensively, and hopefully a deal can be brokered at the strategic and economic dialogue late July in Washington. There is an interesting point here. When calculating, China pays more attention to per capita figures while the US total numbers. Everything is small when divided by 1.3 billion, but big when multiplied by 1.3 billion. Based on total figures, China has become the biggest emitter, therefore should do more. However, when using per capita figures, every Chinese person’s contribution to world GHG emission is very limited, so it is unfair and beyond China’s capacity to shoulder the same responsibility as developed countries. A balance also needs to be struck here.
Therefore, in terms of the three biggest expectations placed on China by the US, we wish to do more, but we should not overrate ourselves when making commitments. A well-thought and carefully-crafted balance is badly needed between international responsibility and China’s own interests.
Second, we should always bear in mind our own weaknesses. Thanks to reform and opening-up, China today has much stronger economic power than before. But we are still facing many difficult domestic problems, for example – at the macro level – to strengthen the rule of law and democracy, to carry out economic restructuring, to improve soft power; at the micro level, to address the very problems that the general public hates to see, including corruption, unemployment, and environmental degradation. Some of these problems, if not properly dealt with, may endanger what we have already achieved and destabilise our whole society.
Generally speaking, we cannot be more rational and down-to-earth. China is developing fast, but there is still a long long way to go. We are limited in our capacity and facing numerous domestic problems. China will never seek hegemony. This commitment is based not only on moral grounds, but also on realistic considerations. We should always work hard – there is no room for complacency for the Chinese.
Calligraphy in the breeze at Sichuan Normal University, a year on from the earthquake which killed tens of thousands (picture by Katrina Hamlin)
Young, patriotic crowds gather in Chengdu's Tianfu square to mark the anniversary (picture by a friend of one of Katrina's students)
Below is a guest post by Katrina Hamlin, a friend of mine who has taught English in Chengdu since last August. I find especially interesting the idea (in the fourth from last paragraph) that the earthquake has encouraged in the city’s youth the spirit of a civil society, at the same time as channelling immense pride in China’s state.
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Tuesday 12th May 2009 in Chengdu, Sichuan. A year since the earthquake. In the morning, I attended my Chinese class at Sichuan Normal University. In the afternoon, I taught English. No-one mentioned the anniversary. There was no memorial or silence. I don’t think I heard the word ‘earthquake’ once.
In the evening, I found the teachers’ flats surrounded by dozens of paper wreaths, taller than me and glowing with colour. There was a tent containing trestle tables and the remains of a banquet. I slipped inside. No, the guests assured me; this has nothing to do with the earthquake. They showed me a picture of a serene old man who had recently passed away.
I know my students and colleagues won’t forget last May. I’ve heard many stories about comforting hysterical friends and sleeping on the basketball courts for a week. Why, then, did they act as though the earthquake had never happened?
I wondered if I’d mistaken the date.
I didn’t see anything until the end of the day, when I spotted a line of pastel posters; doves, candles and rainbows. Behind, calligraphy hung in the trees. It was beautiful in its simplicity. But I still struggled to see how thousands of deaths prompted a few pictures while one old man had drawn a crowd.
I thought of what I heard before the anniversary. I’d asked my boss whether class would stop in honour of the occasion. She stared, told me not to expect a holiday, and promptly changed the subject. I also had a meeting at the university’s international office.
“Don’t speak about that,” the wide eyed secretary implored me.
So I avoided the topic in this week’s classes. Instead I prepared lessons on national identity and moral dilemmas.
What does being Chinese mean to you, Candy?
“Since the earthquake, China has changed for me; I feel more together with the Chinese people; more united.”
Why would the passer-by not rescue the drowning boy, Serena?
“Sometimes, we must be selfish. Even in the earthquake, some people were selfish, not everyone can be a hero.”
I slowly learnt that the earthquake was on everyone’s minds. I finally plucked up the courage to speak to some students in private. I asked about the anniversary, and how they’d marked it on campus – if at all.
Well, they’d made a banner. There were some photos too, but they were taken down because it rained. What else? Nothing.
What was their impression of Wenchuan’s recovery?
They were overwhelmed by the initial response. But now they feel very aware of how much remains to be done, though resources and media interest are dwindling. Moon, an English major, told me about her concern for the victims� mental health. Many psychologists had volunteered to help those suffering from severe emotional trauma. But without a salary, they couldn’t stay. A year is a long time without your home or family, but far too brief a period in which to come to terms with such a loss.
Moon and the other students responded to all my inquiries with a great deal of thought and quiet passion. They’d kept up with developments, and spent time thinking through what had happened. They really did care. But had they found a more public way to express that, beyond posters and photos? Some had.
Jia you! Xiong qi!
‘Add oil!’ – ‘Go! Go!’. Sichuan Normal University might have been quiet on the Tuesday, but Chengdu’s Tianfu Square was not. Moon’s friend had joined the crowd. We pored over pictures taken on his mobile phone. People laid chrysanthemums beneath the Chinese flag, sung the national anthem and observed a three minute silence. Then they sang again: ‘tuan jie jiu shi li liang‘, ‘Unity is Strength’, and ‘wu xing hong qi‘, ‘The Five Star Red Flag’. But here too, grief wasn’t much in evidence. Optimism came first.
After speaking with my students, I sought out other members of Chengdu’s foreign community to ask them to share their observations.
Teachers’ and students’ experiences mirrored my own. There’d been little signs of mourning in their schools and campuses.
Sichuan Quake Relief’s project manager Walter Brown has worked with young people in Chengdu and the disaster zone since last May. He described his impression of the youth’s response.
To him, they seemed increasingly selfless. Many were eager to contribute to relief work. Children are declaring “I want to grow up to be a volunteer”. Overall, the quake was encouraging the growth of a civil society. But, Walter cautioned, it also represented another way for them to express their national pride.
I believe that despite what I could – or couldn’t – see on the day itself, the students and young people in Chengdu felt the anniversary deeply. But they are only comfortable showing that in certain ways and contexts. The posters and banners provided one, superficial, outlet. But more striking expressions required a large group and a collective confidence. Individuals responded as a part of the crowd, or as a part of China; and that public response had to be positive.
When they came together they demonstrated determination and pride. Not sadness. I think – I’m certain – that grief and anxiety are there too. But for now these are private emotions, out of sight.
I hope this doesn’t sound like a nothing conclusion – ‘they are sad’. It felt like a revelation after what I did not see here on 12th May.
