A note I sent to Seanan on January 14, 2011
Hi Seanan,
It was nice to see you again yesterday evening, and to have the 
whole gang back together. Reading and discussing Confucian texts is 
actually pretty engaging, and it does feel like we gain something 
when we explore the meaning of a passage and consider its relevance to 
our lives today.
Hm ... but after the meeting, I guess the conversation did get a little intense when we talked about Traditional Chinese characters and Simplified Chinese characters. The reason I had such a strong reaction is that I really care about culture and cultural preservation, and this is one of the issues that seems to personify how we treat the past. It poses the question: should we discard things from the past because it currently seems useful or ideologically popular to do so? Or is there value in holding onto our history and applying it in a contemporary context?
I'm confident that we are all fine with intellectual debate, so I 
hope no one felt uncomfortable, though I do feel bad that the discussion
 started to move into emotional territory. I feel bad when other tribes 
or nations lose aspects of their identity (whether it's to Western 
expansionism or globalization); but it feels especially sensitive when 
it is our own culture that's on the line. In light of what happened in 
the 20th century in China, I have an acute reaction to these kinds of 
issues. It is our heritage in question, and I don't believe that we 
should give it up so easily.
To help illustrate: I think the way that I relate to the issue of Traditional Characters,
 is how you relate to Cantonese. How would you feel if the Communists 
told people, "Oh, there's no need to speak Cantonese. It's too 
complicated! All those tones. We're going to force everyone to use 
Mandarin all the time now. It's better for 'unity' and 'harmony' if 
everyone would just stop speaking Cantonese." Well, as you 
noted, they have begun trying to do this, and people in Guangdong are 
getting pretty riled up about it. 
Cantonese has survived as a viable and accessible language for all 
this time, and it has produced wonderful cultural treasures that could 
only exist in Cantonese. The analogy isn't perfect, because dialect is 
focused on spoken languge and is regionally based, and a script focuses 
on visual and aesthetic components and was at one point universal, but I
 think it captures the idea that just because a policy seems useful at 
the moment doesn't mean it's the only or even the right thing to do.
And here's the rub: it really shouldn't be an either/or situation. If we are sensitive and careful and thoughtful and creative
 enough, we can find solutions that pay proper respect to the past, and 
that take into account future generations, while still dealing with the 
exigencies of the present. For instance, a national language (國語) i.e. 
Mandarin, can be taught in conjunction with local dialect, so that one 
can be used on a national scale for official functions and 
communications, whereas dialects would continue to serve as the local 
vernacular. In this scenario, the streets of Guangzhou and Guandong 
would still ring with the sounds of 廣東話, and this would be seen as 
something to be celebrated, not a failure of a centralizing policy. 
Similarly, if we recognize the beauty of Chinese characters,
 and the meanings imparted by their composition; if we cherish the fact 
that they provide a direct link to our heritage and ancestry, and marvel
 at their coherence -- following their formation, eventual codification,
 and continual transmission, generation after generation; then we ought 
to care about what happens to our civilization's writing. I'm not sure 
if you know this, but Traditional Chinese characters are often called 世界上最美,歷史最悠久的文字. It's a very moving phrase.
Once again, either/or thinking can be limiting, forcing people to 
give up Tradition simply because it has been so ordered. A more 
appropriate approach would be to continue teaching Traditional Chinese characters
 as has been done for millenia, so that people everywhere may recognze 
them, but allow for people to write in whatever script they wanted to --
 so you could, for instance, use shorthand to take notes or jot letters 
to friends. After all, that was what "simplified" characters originally were: abbreviated ways of representing a fully-formed character, a reference to the actual character
 which you knew in your mind. And indeed, in this day and age, it is 
less relevant what script you handwrite things in, because we end up 
typing many of our words, so the argument of "convenience" disappears.
I hope you can understand why I, and why so many other people, care
 about these various elements of our culture. If you recall that phrase 
"世界上最美,歷史最悠久的文字" -- President Ma Ying-jeou is one of the people who 
utters it in the most earnest and serious way. He is a major proponent 
of Traditional Characters, and of Traditional
 Chinese Culture in general -- a tireless advocate for preserving and 
expanding its place in this world. He believes in our culture's strength
 and value -- that it has much to offer the world -- and asks us all to 
work for its revival, so that one day, Chinese culture will flourish not
 only in the places where it has survived and persisted in the last half
 century, but also in all the places where it historically had 
influence. And one day perhaps, even beyond.
Culture comes in many formats: it encompasses ideas, but does not 
consist only of ideas. It also includes form (such as art 
and architecture), language (spoken, written, recorded, live), 
performance (song, dance, ritual), custom (practices and habits). One 
cannot deny the fact that not all change is beneficial to a culture -- 
that there can be destructive or harmful forces that denigrate and deny 
the legitimacy of tradition. It is one thing for culture to gradually 
evolve, as new trends gain traction among the people. Things do change, 
whether it is in the Tang Dynasty or the Qing. But that is different 
than embarking on a campaign to destroy and eliminate culture wholesale.
 One should be properly suspicious when the campaign is spearheaded by a
 group that has no fundamental commitment to that culture, as was the 
case in Mainland China -- and in fact, condemned this group condemned 
culture as "feudalistic" and worthy of destruction. One should also 
beware when it is carried out at the point of a gun. That is why I feel 
things like the Cultural Revolution were antithetical to Chinese 
identity, which took as a core value a reverence for the past. The CCP 
and Mao sought to create a China devoid of Chineseness, so it could 
instead be shaped as a Marxist, Communist state. I find this incredibly 
offensive and deeply tragic.
People and society are gradually evolving, but organic 
transformation, and even conscious transformation, is rather different 
than having an abrupt and destructive caesura imposed on society by the 
force of arms. One would wager that a reasoned discussion within society
 would not have yielded the outcomes sought and enforced by violence. 
It's especially sad to countenance this kind of crime perpetrated on 
something that had endured for so long, and would have continued to 
endure had it not been for such an unfortunate historical moment.
Here is another historical example that may shed some light on the 
situation: In Spain during Franco's dictatorship (1939-1975), the Basque
 language and culture were brutally suppressed. So was that of the 
Catalan nation -- spoken tongue, customary practices, literature -- all 
of it was banned. Only Castillian Spanish, as dictated by the Royal 
Academy was allowed. Students were harshly punished for whispering any 
other language. Parks had signs that read, "No barking. Speak 
Spanish." Basque and Catalan writings were outlawed; their festivals 
ceased; their songs silenced. It was a long, dark period of cultural 
suppression, pervaded by fear and violence, committed by the state's 
roaming squads of enforcers, and deep, systematic discrimination.
After the end of Franco's rule and democracy returned, everyone 
could have just said, "Well, we all speak Castillian Spanish now. We 
write only in Spanish words. Our vocabulary is that of Castile & 
Leon. This was mandated by El Caudillo and enforced by la guardia civil.
 What is done is done" -- and simply accepted the subjugation and its 
results. However, the Basque people and the Catalan people refused to 
capitulate. They resolved to recover what once was lost -- for a 
generation of children who had grown up speaking only the state-approved
 language, who had never read a Catalan text or sung a Basque tune. 
Grandparents taught their grandchildren, parents dug deep into their 
childhood memories to recall what they knew, and today, Euskadi has seen
 a renaissance in Basque culture. Barcelona in Catalunya is a hub for 
Catalan publishing, where the language is used in both affairs of the 
state, as well as in everyday life. Obviously these regions are still 
connected to Spain as a physical territory and a constitutional entity, 
but in their cultural identity they seek to become, once more, the 
homeland of their peoples.
It was not easy, it was not convenient, it was a monumental task --
 but they were committed to this mission of cultural reconstruction 
because it was the right thing to do. The fundamental right to 
exist as a Basque person in a Basque society, the legitimacy of being a 
Catalonian in a free Catalonia -- these were crushed by Franco's iron 
glove. In the face of such illegal suppression, illegal erasure, illegal
 denial of a community's right to exist -- the people of each region 
banded together, and once freedom was achieved, they resolved to undo 
the harm visited upon them. They fought to save their culture, as fully 
and wholly as possible, in all its forms -- written, oral, linguistic, 
literary, musical, customary, philosophical, religious, in temperament 
and attitude and values and beliefs. They sought to be Basque again in 
Basque Country, to be Catalonian in Catalonia, so that their children 
and their children's children could live with the stories and wisdom of 
their forebears, and could celebrate the merits and virtues of their 
people. So it was committed, and so it has been done. It is an ongoing 
mission, an enterprise that engages all of society -- a challenge of 
great proportions that will require the mettle and the talents and the 
will of as many dedicated people as can be found. But it can be done.
 And thus Euskadi and Catalunya will persist and live, not only in 
popular imagination, but also in the world of human beings, a living, 
thriving community in touch with its roots -- one which continues to 
deepen those roots and revive what once had been feared to be lost. It 
is an ongoing act of courage, and utter determination; a fierce act of 
hope, and of unrelenting commitment, and above all, unrelenting love.
It is irony that it sometimes takes a tragedy of epic proportions, a
 national disaster, for citizens to rise up and defend their culture, 
and to pledge to work for its continuation. It is in those moments that 
we see what a people are made of. (And interestingly, it is the smallest
 nations that work the hardest to preserve their identity in the face of
 outside pressures, be they foreign governments or development 
projects).
You and I and the others here -- I am glad we can discuss things like culture and tradition and identity. And though we may have a range of opinions, it's important that we engage with these issues. We are deeply fortunate to have this opportunity today, because so many other people were deprived of it. Faced with war and conflict, recent generations of Chinese people were forced to deal with matters of pure survival. Later on in Mainland China, they were denied permission to even think about tradition, under the threat of being declared a political enemy and condemned to social marginalization (not to mention violence, torture and sometimes death, not only for oneself, but for one's family). In that era of constant political campaigns and persecution for categorical crimes, the idea of engaging in a society-wide discussion was simply unthinkable. To be Chinese was a crime. To defend Chinese culture was a ticket to hell.
I look forward to the journey, and hope all is well.
Sincerely,
Kevin 
 
1 comment:
Main part of my reply on 1/27/11:
Hi Kevin,
Thank you for the powerful words. They have made me reconsider my thoughts about complex characters, and I see how complicated stands as one symbol of the Hua cultural heritage. More importantly, I see how important the "due process" of change can be to a people's heritage -- how imposition cannot ever be justified over organic evolution.
One thing to keep in mind, however, is that even in Chinese history before the Communists, there was constant imposition -- there was always cultural domination and cultural destruction over the course of every dynasty and every warring period. The complex script (or an earlier form of it) that would become the standard over the following centuries only became the standard because of the centralized imposition by Qin Shihuang. Later, this complex script itself may have been a tool of the landed elite for the domination of some oppressed classes. The systematic usage of the complicated script itself started with imposition, and before we put it on a pedestal, it too must be held up to the same standard of judgment.
Second, I think you cannot dismiss the intentions of the simplified script, which fundamentally was to bring literacy to hundreds of thousands of Chinese people. Although you are probably right that the path by which the simplified script became the standard in the PRC was wrong (namely, by imposition), I think the endpoint was legitimate: to simplify the language and increase literacy for the improvement of the lives of real people. The calculation may have been off -- they might not have had to formulate the calculation this way, or maybe script really doesn't make a difference to education -- but as they understood it the deciders were weighing two fundamental things: abstract aesthetics and concrete livelihoods. Given their understanding of the issue, I would have agreed with them. When the livelihoods of real men and women collide with aesthetics, I choose livelihoods.
To illustrate the third point, we could make an analogy with the obscure Latin scripts used by monks in the Middle Ages and the handwriting script we teach in schools today. To me, the switch from those scripts to the simpler, clearer scripts used today is fine with me, especially if it saves time, effort, and improves literacy. But you are still might be right about the wrongness of cultural imposition: while the decision to switch from obscure medieval scripts to modern simple scripts might be the right one, to carelessly enforce it by imposition would be wrong. (I don't think this happened.)
Most importantly, I want to add that, more so than script, the most marvelous treasures of the Hua cultural heritage is its intellectual, ethical, and spiritual content. While I think it's true that script may be important, it is secondary to the semantic content that it captures. And by the very nature of language, beyond aesthetics, the semantic content is captured equally in either complicated or simplified script. These are the treasures that truly matter to me. If the semantic content is preserved (and I think it is), it doesn't matter what it is written in. Indeed, many of the classics probably were not originally written in the standardized script that Qin Shihuang imposed -- yet today we still enjoy the richness of their meanings in both scripts we use today. Yes, having an aesthetic connection to Han Dynasty writers is valuable, but our pride in the Hua heritage should not rest too heavily on it.
Sincerely,
Seanan
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