加拿大人 在中國大學看中國
《山東院長：一位中國大學小官僚的自白》
作者：丹尼爾·A·貝淡寧（Daniel A. Bell） 2023年3月28日
中國學術圈內部視角及其對中國政治體製的揭示
2017年1月1日，丹尼爾·貝淡寧被任命為山東大學政治與公共管理學院院長，這是中國大陸曆史上第一位擔任政治學院院長的外籍院長。在《山東院長》一書中，貝淡寧記錄了他作為“小官僚”的經曆，深入剖析了中國學術圈的運作方式及其對中國政治體製的揭示。他的學術生涯並非一帆風順——貝淡寧不無諷刺地講述了一些偶爾出現的失誤和誤解——但貝淡寧作為學院院長的職位，為觀察當今中國提供了一個獨特的視角。
貝淡寧既不是中國公民，也不是中國共產黨員，他因在儒家思想方麵的研究而被任命為院長——但他很快發現自己要應對一係列與學術或孔子無關的問題。這些問題包括頭發顏色的重要性以及大學管理人員（無論男女）染發的盛行；山東的飲酒文化（每次聚餐時都會無休止地舉杯敬酒）；以及激烈的學術精英管理製度帶來的一些意想不到的後果。作為院長，他還麵臨著更重要的問題：黨委書記在大學中的角色、全國反腐運動及其對學術界的影響（貝淡寧曾頗具挑釁性地問道：“腐敗有什麽問題？”），以及正式和非正式的審查製度。考慮到過去三十年來儒家思想在中國的複興以及他所說的2008年以來的“共產主義回歸”，貝淡寧預測，中國的政治未來很可能由儒家思想和共產主義共同決定。
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《山東院長：一位中國大學小官僚的自白》，作者：丹尼爾·A·貝爾
作者：薩拉莉·特納 2023年5月30日
https://iaffairscanada.com/the-dean-of-shandong-confessions-of-a-minor-bureaucrat-at-a-chinese-university-by-daniel-a-bell/
薩拉莉·特納（Saralee Turner，碩士）是新加坡公民，曾在西安大略大學獲得社會學家學位。特納在多倫多出生長大，成年後大部分時間在亞洲度過，退休前曾在新加坡的多家圖書館工作。
丹尼爾·A·貝爾於1964年出生於蒙特利爾一個工人階級家庭，在麥吉爾大學接受教育，之後在牛津大學獲得政治理論博士學位。他是一位加拿大籍儒家學者，過去20年一直生活在中國，並在過去的五年裏擔任山東大學政治與公共管理學院院長。中國山東省現所在地是孔子的誕生地。在我看來，貝淡寧的寫作風格既俏皮又嚴肅。本書共11章，每個章節的標題都很奇特，例如《批判可愛》和《暢飲無度》。這本書由貝淡寧在山東生活的短篇故事組成，讀起來令人愉悅。它為讀者提供了西方媒體無法觸及的國家/文明生活的第一手資料。書中對大學高層集體領導製約決策的描述頗具啟發性。集體能夠對任命和晉升事宜保持絕對坦誠，同時又能避免那些未能進入這兩條道路的人遭受羞辱，這一點令人深思。書中無需明確地向“所有人”說明“一切”。另一個備受關注的話題是師生關係。書中展現的親切和真誠比大學裏常見的要多得多。有一次，貝教授被他的一名學生指責態度惡劣，後來這名學生道歉，聲稱自己當時喝醉了，斥責貝教授對“失望”的自私態度。貝教授忠於自己對儒家思想的研究和理解，並提供了自我批評的例子，讀到一位成就卓著的學者的文字，令人耳目一新。
貝教授開篇就表明了他寫這本書的目的，即消除對中國的妖魔化。他耐心而幽默地解釋了中國的政治體製是如何運作的，以及他如何在五年的院長任期內“跌跌撞撞”地犯下每個人在陌生領域都會犯的錯誤。此外，本書還可以概述儒家思想史，並了解中華民族作為一種文明，而不僅僅是一個民族國家或一個政治實體。
鑒於貝爾所宣稱的寫作目的，有必要審視“妖魔化”的概念。在如今仇恨言論猖獗的時代，這種概念已屢見不鮮。
妖魔化是指將某人或某物歪曲為完全邪惡、卑鄙、惡魔般的存在。這是一個令人不快的話題，因為顯而易見的是，這一過程，加上潛在的種族主義、精英主義、民族中心主義、宗教偏見以及我們人類將自身置於同胞之上的諸多方式，正在迅速蔓延。
如今，對於那些想要涉足這種令人厭惡的藝術的人來說，將國家、文明和族群妖魔化似乎輕而易舉。首先，必須阻止任何可能指向被妖魔化者積極特質的內容發表。其次，當然需要一個擴音器，而大眾媒體在現代社會中提供了這樣的擴音器。記者必須參與其中，編輯必須像指揮家一樣，精心策劃“專家”意見，迅速從可能的惡行轉變為確定此類暴行確實發生。最終，那些在沒有可靠證據的情況下發表驚人言論的人必須被相信。
我在一個嚴格的新教原教旨主義宗教環境中長大，很快就染上了一些關於誰會上天堂、誰會下地獄的嚴重誤導性觀念。小時候，我第一次感到羞恥，就是在一個男女混合的聚會中，我毫無顧忌地談論被灌輸的“事實”。那些灌輸這些帶有評判性觀念的成年人感到尷尬，試圖讓我閉嘴，讓我感到不舒服，並為自己無法辨認的罪行感到內疚。這就是我學到的第一課。一個人可以帶著偏見，說出不真實或至少高度可疑的“事實”，但必須謹慎行事。
後來我讀到冷戰期間俄羅斯人被妖魔化的文章，當時我被鼓勵去認為俄羅斯和蘇聯社會是由邪惡的，或者充其量是由一群可悲的、被誤導的人組成的，他們相信報紙上的內容。回過頭來看，有趣的是，與此同時，我被鼓勵去
千萬別相信加拿大報紙上的文章。
貝爾教授在“2021年布雷斯特地緣政治”大會上發表主題演講，探討了“西方為何妖魔化中國”這一問題。他理性地分析了西方如何看待中國、對中國的期望、西方如何看待中國政府和社會，以及對許多西方人來說，民主隻有在“一人一票”製度下才有可能。
妖魔化中國的一個例子是，有人認為，中國在1月23日之後允許飛機飛往西方的幾個城市（倫敦、紐約、舊金山、巴黎和羅馬），從而將新冠病毒從武漢傳播到了這些城市（倫敦、紐約、舊金山、巴黎和羅馬）。這項指控可能出自某位不諳世事的記者之手，但事實上，它出自一位訓練有素、備受尊敬的曆史學家、擁有牛津大學博士學位的尼爾·弗格森教授之手。丹尼爾·貝爾隨後進行了廣泛的研究，以查明2020年1月23日之後從武漢起飛的航班及其目的地。結果證明，這項針對中國的指控毫無根據。貝爾最初於2020年4月21日發表的博客對此進行了詳盡的報道，我在此引用它，是為了指出，當此類指控出自一位備受推崇的學者之手時，其可信度是毋庸置疑的。據我所知，弗格森教授沒有撤回其文章，也沒有為犯下如此嚴重的“錯誤”道歉。事實上，弗格森教授認為貝爾教授欠他一個道歉。
這就是妖魔化的本質。人們普遍認為，被妖魔化的個人或群體必須拿出反麵證據，證明自己並非妖魔，即使證據是虛構的或錯誤呈現的，被妖魔化者也有責任糾正錯誤的印象，而且在很多情況下，媒體本身並沒有提供足夠的支持。
每個社會都有心懷不滿的人，他們會對政府的所作所為進行負麵解讀，並能說服那些不了解這個社會的人對政策和程序提出嚴厲批評。每個社會都有侵犯人權和司法不公的例子。是的，即使是加拿大也有。我想起多倫多刑事律師愛德華·格林斯潘的一本書。書中讓我印象深刻的是，在五六十年代，一名美國人在魁北克狩獵時被槍殺，之後一名男子被抓獲。由於在錯誤的時間出現在錯誤的地點，並且沒有足夠的法律辯護，一個無辜的人被處決了。當時的輿論是，加拿大不願失去寶貴的“狩獵旅遊”，需要迅速解決此事，讓美國公眾滿意。
每個社會都有異見人士。想象一下，這些異見人士拿著擴音器，在世界各地大肆宣傳，媒體也從他們的視角放大他們關於某個國家的一切評論。瞧！妖魔化就來了！把這種妖魔化傾瀉到早已存在的針對“他者”的偏見沃土上，就會引發對某個群體或某個國家的仇恨爆發。
異見人士或那些對被妖魔化的個人/群體持有非常負麵看法的人的觀點，常常被認定為事實，盡管很多時候沒有任何可信的證據。
亞洲傑出的漢學家王賡武教授，MBE，九十多歲，可以不用筆記，連續講授一個小時，解釋亞洲是如何發展到今天這個樣子的，他最近表示，“謊言重複多次”就會變成真理。這才是事情可怕的地方。
我對這本書的主要保留意見在於其既定目標。貝爾教授希望，一位在麥吉爾大學和牛津大學接受過教育、熟悉當地情況的學者，能夠理性地呈現事實和曆史，足以讓那些眼中隻有魔鬼而不是中國人的人幡然悔悟，但我對此表示懷疑。
我強烈推薦這本書給所有想要了解環遊世界、在一個與丹尼爾·貝爾教授出生和成長的加拿大截然不同的國家擔任高級教職的人。或許貝爾教授能夠成功，我讚賞他在這方麵的努力，但要克服多年的虛假信息以及至少兩個世紀的種族主義，這並非易事。
看到許多加拿大人對亞裔的仇恨和帶有偏見的報道，令人震驚。在沒有可靠證據的情況下，指控就變成了判決。我成長的加拿大更加開放和公平。我不禁想問，那個加拿大現在變成了什麽樣？我懷疑那些毫無根據地製造泄密和懷疑的情報機構和人員無濟於事。如今真正的情報已經很少見。令人震驚的是，毫無證據的匿名情報報告竟然被當作事實來迫害民眾。這難道是一個基於規則的秩序嗎？規則在哪裏？更重要的是，秩序又在哪裏？
局內人視角下的中國外部現實：評丹尼爾·貝爾的《山東院長》
保羅·J·丹布羅西奧 (Paul J. D’Ambrosio) 評論丹尼爾·貝爾的《山東院長：一位中國大學小官僚的自白》。
保羅·J·丹布羅西奧 2023年9月19日
https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/an-insiders-look-at-chinas-outside-reality-on-daniel-bells-the-dean-of-shandong/
保羅·J·丹布羅西奧（Paul J. D'Ambrosio）是中國上海華東師範大學的中國哲學教授，同時兼任該校跨文化研究中心主任。他主要從事道教、中古中國思想、當代基於個人形象的身份認同以及人類與人工智能/算法的關係等研究。
《山東院長：一位中國大學小官僚的自白》，丹尼爾·A·貝爾著。普林斯頓大學出版社，2023年。208頁。
近年來，中美關係持續惡化。雖然相互批評的重點往往集中在政治體製、領土邊界和人權等大問題上，但我們應該采取更細致的視角，將細微之處也納入考量。有時，當我們注意到彼此細微的相似之處，並欣賞一些更平凡的問題時，巨大的差異就能得到有意義的探討，甚至化解。丹尼爾·貝爾的新書《山東院長：一位中國大學小官僚的自白》正是其中的亮點。這本書的主要優勢在於，它生動地展現了中國社會一些更宏大、更難以理解的方麵，同時也探討了在中國大學體係中作為一名“小官僚”的意義。
丹尼爾·貝爾曾擔任山東大學政治與公共管理學院院長五年。他出生於加拿大，幾乎整個職業生涯都在亞洲度過：新加坡、香港、中國大陸，現在又回到了香港。除了擁有獨特的專業背景外，貝爾還是一位著名的公共知識分子。多年來，他一直為大眾新聞媒體撰稿，旨在提供關於中國的建設性視角，同時撰寫必要的學術論文和書籍，這些都為他贏得了政治哲學家的尊貴學術聲譽。
《山東院長》巧妙地將貝淡寧對中國思想、政治製度和日常生活的深刻理解，以一種極其通俗易懂的風格交織在一起。雖然他出色地探討了中國一些較為日常的方麵，但我們或許會懷疑，在他詼諧幽默的筆觸中，是否也丟失了我們思考這些問題時應有的嚴肅性。
貝淡寧這本書的開篇便是他的第一個告白，也是他隨後眾多告白中的一次：他承認自己多年來一直染黑頭發。你可能會覺得，以這樣的方式開篇似乎有些愚蠢，因為這本書應該探討的是更嚴肅的問題。然而，在中國，染發是一件嚴肅的事情。政客們染黑頭發既不是為了吸引人，也不是為了顯得更年輕。正如貝淡寧所解釋的，幾乎所有中國官員（包括教授）都會染發，這種習俗已經延續了近兩千年。黑發象征著活力和健康；它表明一個人有能力繼續努力工作，服務人民。以至於當官員不再染發，白發顯眼時，可能意味著他們要求停止公職，或在受到刑事指控時請求寬恕。
貝淡寧在此展現了中國文化中兩個相當重要的方麵，而這兩個方麵往往被生活在非亞洲社會的人所低估：外表很重要，而且，正如這裏的許多事情一樣，外表在社會背景下而非個人的背景下很重要。保持一定的外表，或者更常見的說法是“麵子”，對於維護社會結構至關重要。一個運轉良好的社會，既需要優雅的外表，也需要強大的內心。回到我們最初的例子，白發官員可能看起來蒼老疲憊，所以他們把頭發染成黑色，以此向別人保證自己能夠勝任工作。這種做法與個人虛榮無關，而完全是維係社會整體的粘合劑。
很好地理解這個問題有助於解釋中國許多令人困惑的做法，例如審查製度。正如貝淡寧所說，在教學方麵，其實幾乎沒有什麽不能說的。與美國幾乎沒有可比性。我在美國教書時，總是如履薄冰；我常常甚至不知道最新的敏感話題是什麽，更不用說該如何評論了。相比之下，在我的中文課堂上，我想說什麽就說什麽。然而，我們在中國確實能看到大量審查製度的地方，是在媒體和政治出版物中。貝淡寧概述了這些問題，並毫不掩飾地批評了國家對新聞、網絡博客等的影響力。
在中國出版政治書籍方麵，貝淡寧比大多數人經驗豐富，他的說法也常常令人意外。他本人作品在中國的審查，往往與他提出的修改某些政府部門或政策名稱的建議有關。例如，貝淡寧建議將官方翻譯為“宣傳部”。
英文中稱為“宣傳部”（Propaganda Department，最近已更名為“公關部”）的部門，可以被稱為“傳播部”或“公眾參與部”。這類提議幾乎全部被中國政府審查。這或許看起來有些奇怪，畢竟，它們出自一位本意良好的母語人士之口。然而，當我們回想起染發這件事時，我們就能梳理出一條清晰的思路。外貌很重要，而外貌最重要的是維係社會團結。如果一個政府連自己部門的名稱都不能恰當地命名，又如何管理好它們呢？
另一個例子是應對氣候變化。與其他緊迫問題（包括人權問題或南海領土主張）一樣，外貌及其對社會穩定的影響是核心思維過程的重要組成部分。中國共產黨不能被視為輕易屈服於外國勢力，甚至聽從其建議。這樣做意味著“丟臉”。因此，盡管西方政客可能以（表麵上的）合作為榮，認為這表明他們已經擺脫了純粹（自私的）民族主義意圖，但中國的做法卻截然不同。習近平宣稱中國將製定自己的計劃，不允許其他國家強加甚至建議其措施，以此來維護其政治合法性。無論中國走自己的路究竟意味著什麽，也無論會有多少外國影響，中國以中國方式處理自身事務的形象仍然至關重要。這就像政府的黑發一樣。
貝淡寧深入探討了中國學術界的核心問題，在肯定形象重要性的同時，也提出了尖銳的批評。例如，他描述了每個院係都設有“黨委書記”的角色。此人直接代表中國共產黨，在某些問題上擁有比院長更大的權力。事實上，他們的影響力如此之大，以至於每五年就必須調動一次院係，以避免偏袒。貝淡寧生動地描繪了這些人的所作所為，但對他們的一些意識形態職責卻頗為嚴厲。
在本書的其他部分，他還探討了中國大學如何與中國政府的大部分機構一樣，在很多層麵上都相當民主。與一些人的認知相反，中國存在著大量有意義的投票——而且與許多西方國家相比，這種投票更多地基於擇優錄取。然而，在中國，投票並不總是具有約束力。在決定聘用或任命院長時，係裏所有教授都會投票，但實際上隻有少數高層教授做出決定。投票結果會被納入考慮，並且通常會被采納，但並非總是如此，也並非必然如此。
作為一名在上海任職的中國大學院長，我對《山東院長》有兩點批評。首先，貝淡寧的書中從未提及中國複雜的“報銷”製度，這種製度在大學尤為突出，但在各行各業都能找到。在中國，報銷程序極其官僚，讓人感覺怪異，甚至像奧威爾式的“奧威爾式”故事，常常令人感到極度困惑和沮喪。例如，用於撰寫一係列學術論文或翻譯一本書的研究經費，會被列為需要報銷的款項。為了獲得這筆經費，申請人需要提供各種收據——有的真，有的假——從出租車費、機票費到辦公用品費和會議費，不一而足。這個製度顯然存在問題，因為我翻譯一本書所花的幾個月時間，與我用來領取經費的四台筆記本電腦和十本愛因斯坦傳記的收據之間，並沒有明確的關聯。關於這個製度，有很多值得探討的地方，如果是貝淡寧，他本可以就此展開一場富有洞察力且引人入勝的討論。
一個更嚴肅的批評是，貝淡寧在他的書中忽略了中國的陰暗麵。當他談到辛勤工作的黨委書記、精心安排的晚宴和飲酒儀式時，他關注的是他們如何高效運作，人們如何認同自己的角色並樂於履行職責。這些都是儒家思想中基於陽的一麵。但也有更陰暗的一麵，即“道家”思想中基於陰的一麵（當然，腐敗的“陰暗麵”也算在內）。這種陰暗麵往往不被重視，盡管如果沒有它，儒家的陽的一麵就不可能存在。例如，大多數黨委書記都夢想獲得更好的學術聲譽——許多人擁有哲學博士學位——而且幾乎所有人都希望在政府中晉升（幾乎所有官員都是從擔任這些職位開始的，並逐步晉升）。對於那些未能實現這些願望的人來說，黨委書記的工作通常並不令人滿意；他們既無法從事自己的學術研究，也無法獲得比基層官員更高的晉升。與其感到自己是儒家思想的失敗者，不如轉而投向
縱觀中國曆史，無數人將這種文化與道家思想聯係起來，道家思想對於那些未能滿足各種社會期望的人來說，一直是寶貴的資源。
在關於“可愛”的章節中，貝淡寧描述了即使在高層官員之間最嚴肅的交流中，人們也會使用有趣的表情符號。它們可以表達禮貌或尊重，並有助於緩和緊張的討論。貝淡寧推測，在儒家社會中，人們承受著各種各樣的社會壓力，“可愛文化……在使具有社會價值的生活方式的替代途徑合法化方麵發揮著重要作用”。這在今天無疑是正確的，但盡管“可愛”可能是一種新近流行的權宜之計，但道家思想早已扮演著這一角色，而且相對而言更為深刻。在儒家社會中，道家思想不僅為人們提供了獲得合法性的新途徑，也為尋求社會合法性本身提供了替代方案。貝淡寧過於關注儒家光明的一麵，包括其“可愛”的一麵，而往往忽略了道家陰暗的一麵，或許還低估了其重要性。諷刺的是，《山東院長》本身就帶有道家色彩。
二十多年前，貝淡寧懷揣著成為一名中國政治家的夢想來到中國。如今夢想成真，他卻反思自己並非真正勝任這項任務。貝淡寧聲稱，副院長做了大部分工作，而他自己更像是一個“象征性”人物。但一位“上海院長”卻不敢苟同。雖然貝淡寧可能認為自己的角色更像是一種新鮮玩意兒，而非真正的領導職位，但我懷疑他周圍的人可能並不這麽認為。外國人在中國經常扮演“可愛”或象征性的角色，但這並不妨礙他們擁有真正的意義。正如中國最高層政治人物之間的溝通中會使用可愛的表情符號，而外貌在治理中也至關重要一樣，一位象征性院長的作為可能遠超乎他的想象。事實上，貝淡寧在其最後一章中，為象征性領導力提供了一個令人信服的論據。但他似乎並未意識到自身在這方麵的功績。
與貝淡寧的其他著作，包括《中國模式：政治賢能政治與民主的局限》（2015）和《公正等級：社會等級為何在中國及世界其他地區重要》（與王培合著，2020）相比，他在《山東院長》中的貢獻或許顯得有些漫不經心。書中有些章節聚焦於看似無關緊要的話題，例如染發和“可愛”的形象，並通過一係列個人軼事來講述。然而，這本書的最終目的是探討如何通過欣賞外貌的作用，讓我們更好地理解一個外貌概念真正重要的世界。
The Dean of Shandong: Confessions of a Minor Bureaucrat at a Chinese University
by Daniel A. Bell (Author) March 28 2023
An inside view of Chinese academia and what it reveals about China's political system
On January 1, 2017, Daniel Bell was appointed dean of the School of Political Science and Public Administration at Shandong University—the first foreign dean of a political science faculty in mainland China’s history. In The Dean of Shandong, Bell chronicles his experiences as what he calls "a minor bureaucrat," offering an inside account of the workings of Chinese academia and what they reveal about China’s political system. It wasn’t all smooth sailing—Bell wryly recounts sporadic bungles and misunderstandings—but Bell's post as dean provides a unique vantage point on China today.
Bell, neither a Chinese citizen nor a member of the Chinese Communist Party, was appointed as dean because of his scholarly work on Confucianism—but soon found himself coping with a variety of issues having little to do with scholarship or Confucius. These include the importance of hair color and the prevalence of hair-dyeing among university administrators, both male and female; Shandong’s drinking culture, with endless toasts at every shared meal; and some unintended consequences of an intensely competitive academic meritocracy. As dean, he also confronts weightier matters: the role at the university of the Party secretary, the national anticorruption campaign and its effect on academia (Bell asks provocatively, “What’s wrong with corruption?”), and formal and informal modes of censorship. Considering both the revival of Confucianism in China over the last three decades and what he calls “the Communist comeback” since 2008, Bell predicts that China’s political future is likely to be determined by both Confucianism and Communism.
The Dean of Shandong : Confessions of a Minor Bureaucrat at a Chinese University by Daniel A. Bell
BY SARALEE TURNER MAY 30, 2023
https://iaffairscanada.com/the-dean-of-shandong-confessions-of-a-minor-bureaucrat-at-a-chinese-university-by-daniel-a-bell/
Saralee Turner (MLS) is a citizen of Singapore who was trained as a sociologist at the University of Western Ontario. Born and raised in Toronto, Turner spent much of her adult life in Asia working with several libraries in Singapore before her retirement.
Daniel A. Bell, born in 1964 in Montreal and raised in a working class family, was educated at McGill before obtaining a DPhil from Oxford in the area of political theory. He is a Canadian Confucian scholar who has lived in China for the past 20 years working for the last five years as the Dean of the School of Political Science and Public Administration at Shandong University. The current location of the Shandong province of China is the birthplace of Confucius. Bell wrote this book in what seems to me to be a playful yet serious way. It includes eleven chapters with quirky titles such as A Critique of Cuteness and Drinking Without Limits. An enjoyable read, it is composed of short stories of Bell’s life in Shandong. It gives the reader a firsthand account of living in a country/civilization that is impossible to find in the Western media. The description of the constraints that collective leadership impose on decision making in the upper echelons of a university are instructive. The ability of groups to be brutally honest about appointment and promotion matters while preventing the humiliation of those not chosen for either of these paths is illuminating. The need to explicitly state ‘everything’ to ‘everybody’ is absent. Another topic that receives attention is the relationship between teachers/professors and students. One sees more affection and honesty than is often found in universities. In one instance Professor Bell is accused of a bad attitude by one of his students who later apologizes and claims he was drunk when he upbraided Bell for his rather selfish approach to a ‘disappointment’. True to his study and understanding of Confucian thought, Bell provides examples of his own self-criticism, which is refreshing to read from an accomplished scholar.
At the outset, Bell declares his stated purpose of writing the book, to dedemonize China. He has patiently and with good humour explained how the Chinese political system works and how he managed to ‘stumble’ his way through his five-year deanship making the kind of mistakes everyone makes when they are in unfamiliar territory. In addition, one can pick up along the way an outline of the history of Confucian thought and learn about the Chinese as a civilization, not simply a nation state or a political entity.
Regarding Bell’s stated purpose of writing the book, it is necessary to examine the concept of demonization which is all too common in these days of rampant hate mongering.
To demonize is to misrepresent someone or something as being entirely evil, contemptible, demonic. This is an unpleasant subject as it is all too obvious that this process, coupled with the underlying presence of racism, elitism, ethnocentrism, religious prejudice and our many human ways of putting ourselves above our fellow humans, grows quickly.
Demonization of nations, civilizations, ethnic groups now appears to be an easy task for those who wish to dabble in this unsavoury art. First one must prevent the publishing of anything that might point to positive characteristics of those being demonized. Then of course one needs a megaphone which in modern societies is provided by the mass media. Journalists must be on board and editors must be like conductors, orchestrating ‘expert’ opinions and moving quickly from probable evil doings to certainty that such atrocities have happened. Eventually, those making outrageous statements without credible evidence must be believed.
Growing up in a strict fundamentalist religious environment of the Protestant variety, I quickly picked up some seriously misguided ideas about who was going to heaven and who was going to hell. As a child one of my first encounters with shame was when I spoke freely about the ‘facts’ I had been fed in a mixed congregation. The adults who had fed me these judgmental ideas were embarrassed and tried to hush me up, making me feel uncomfortable and guilty of some misdeed which I couldn’t identify. So that was my first lesson. One could be prejudiced and state ‘facts’ that were not true or at least highly suspect, but one had to be careful about how this was done.
I later read about the demonization of Russians during the Cold War when I was encouraged to think of Russian and Soviet society as being comprised of evil or, at best, sadly deluded people who believed what was written in their newspapers. It is interesting to look back and see that at the same time I was encouraged to believe what was written in Canadian newspapers.
Professor Bell gave a keynote address at “Les Géopolitiques de Brest 2021” in which he addressed the issue as to “Why China is Demonized in the West”. He provided a rational analysis of how the West perceives China, what is expected of China, how China’s government and society is viewed in the West and how for many in the West, democracy is only possible if there is a ‘one person, one vote’ system in place.
An example of the demonization of China was the theory that China had spread the COVID 19 virus from Wuhan to several cities in the West (London, New York, San Francisco, Paris and Rome) by allowing planes to fly to these cities after Jan. 23rd when it stopped planes flying from Wuhan to other cities in China. The accusation could have been made by some journalist who hadn’t done his/her homework but was in fact made by a highly trained and well-respected historian with a DPhil from Oxford, Professor Niall Ferguson. Extensive research was then undertaken by Daniel Bell to discover what flights had left Wuhan after Jan. 23, 2020 and what their destinations were. It turned out that this accusation made against China was unfounded. This story is well covered in Bell’s blog initially posted April 21, 2020 and I include it here to note the legs that such accusations have when made by highly regarded academics. There was no retraction that I am aware of, and further no apology for making such a serious ‘mistake’. In fact, Professor Ferguson felt he was owed an apology by Professor Bell.
This is the nature of demonization. It is assumed that the one or the group being demonized must prove a negative, that he/she/they are not demon(s) and even when the evidence is fictitious or presented wrongly, the onus is on the demonized to correct the wrong impression and in many cases, without the megaphone the media provided in the first place.
Every society has the disgruntled, the people who interpret everything the government does in a negative light and can convince those who don’t know the society to be highly critical of policies and processes. Every society has examples of human rights abuses and miscarriages of justice. Yes, even Canada has these. I think back to a book by Edward Greenspan who was a criminal lawyer in Toronto. What sticks in my memory is a man who was picked up after an American was shot while hunting in Quebec during the 50’s or 60’s. For being in the wrong place at the wrong time and without an adequate legal defense, an innocent man was executed. Such were the sentiments of the day that Canada did not want to lose valuable ‘hunting tourism’ and needed to resolve the case with speed to the satisfaction of the American public.
Every society has dissidents. Now imagine these dissidents getting a megaphone around the world with the media amplifying everything they write about a country from that viewpoint. Presto! You have demonization! Pour that onto the fertile soil of prejudice that already exists against ‘the other’ and you have the explosion of hatred towards a group of people or a country.
The views of dissidents or those who hold very negative opinions about the person/group being demonized are often assumed, many times without any credible evidence, to be true.
Professor Wang Gungwu MBE, Asia’s illustrious sinologist, in his mid 90’s, who can lecture, without notes for an hour explaining how Asia has come to be what it is now, has stated recently that ‘untruths repeated often enough’ become truth. That is the frightening part of this.
My main reservation for this book is the stated goal. Professor Bell hopes that rational presentation of facts and history from someone who knows his way around several blocks, having been educated in McGill and Oxford, would be enough to have the scales fall from the eyes of those who see demons instead of Chinese people but I have my doubts.
I do recommend his book to anyone seeking to understand what it is like to traverse the globe and assume a high-level teaching position in a country so different from Canada where Professor Daniel Bell was born and became an adult. Perhaps Bell will succeed in his quest and I applaud his efforts in that regard, but it is a tall order to overcome years of disinformation as well as at least 2 centuries of racism.
It has been shocking to see the anti-Asian hatred in many Canadians and the biased reporting. Accusation turns into verdict without credible evidence. The Canada I grew up in was more open minded and fair. I wonder where that Canada has gone? I suspect intelligence agencies and personnel that produce leaks and suspicions without foundation don’t help. Real intelligence is rare these days. It is surprising to see anonymous intelligence reports without a shred of evidence taken as fact to persecute people. Is this a rules-based order? Where are the rules? And more importantly, where is the order?
An Insider's Look at China's Outside Reality: On Daniel Bell's "The Dean of Shandong"
Paul J. D’Ambrosio reviews Daniel Bell's "The Dean of Shandong: Confessions of a Minor Bureaucrat at a Chinese University."
RELATIONS BETWEEN China and the United States have been deteriorating for a few years now. While the emphasis in mutual criticisms is often on large issues, such as political institutions, territorial boundaries, and human rights, we should take a more nuanced perspective, in which we should include small things as well. Sometimes big differences can be meaningfully engaged with, or even dissolved, when our small similarities are noticed, and more mundane issues appreciated. Enter Daniel Bell’s new book, The Dean of Shandong: Confessions of a Minor Bureaucrat at a Chinese University. The book’s major strength lies precisely in bringing alive some of the larger and more difficult-to-understand aspects of the Chinese world even as Bell addresses what it means to work as a “minor bureaucrat” in the country’s university system.
Daniel Bell served for five years as the dean of the School of Political Science and Public Administration at Shandong University. A Canadian by birth, he has spent nearly his entire professional career in Asia: Singapore, Hong Kong, mainland China, and now Hong Kong again. In addition to having a unique professional profile, Bell is a noted public intellectual. For years, he has written for popular news outlets aimed at providing constructive perspectives on China, alongside the requisite scholarly papers and books, which have gained him an esteemed academic reputation as a political philosopher.
The Dean of Shandong wonderfully weaves together Bell’s deep knowledge of Chinese thought, political institutions, and everyday life in an extremely accessible style. And while he does an excellent job at discussing some of the more mundane aspects of China, we may wonder if, in his jocular manner, some of the seriousness with which we should consider these issues is not lost.
The initial chapter of Bell’s book contains his very first confession, one of many to come: he admits to having dyed his hair black for many years. A somewhat silly way to begin a book that should address more serious matters, you may think. Hair dye in China is, however, a serious matter. Politicians dying their hair black is neither about being attractive nor looking younger. As Bell explains, nearly all Chinese officials (including professors) dye their hair, and this has been going on for nearly 2,000 years. Black hair is a sign of vigor and health; it indicates an individual’s ability to continue working hard and serving the people. So much so that when an official no longer dyes their hair, when white hairs are prominently shown, this can signal a request to be done with public office, or a plea for mercy when criminally charged.
Here Bell demonstrates two rather important facets of Chinese culture, often underestimated by those living in non-Asian societies: appearance matters, and it matters, as many things do here, in a socially determined context, not an individualized one. Keeping up a certain appearance, or what is more commonly known as “face,” is important for maintaining the social fabric. A well-functioning community can rely just as heavily on a polished exterior as a robust interior. To go back to our initial example, officials with white hair might look aged and tired, so they dye their hair black to assure others that they are up to their duties. Personal vanity has nothing to do with the practice, it is entirely about the glue that holds the social whole together.
A good grasp of this issue helps explain many perplexing practices in China. Censorship, for example. As Bell relates, when it comes to teaching, there is actually not much one cannot say. There is almost no comparison with the United States. When I teach in the US, I am constantly walking on eggshells; often I don’t even know what the latest sensitive issues are, much less what I should say about them. In my Chinese classroom, in contrast, I say whatever I want. Where we do, however, see much censorship in China is in the media and in the publications covering politics. Bell outlines these issues, and does not hold back in criticizing the state’s influence in news, online blogs, and the like.
When it comes to publishing books on political issues in China, Bell has more experience than most, and what he says can be surprising. Censorship of his own work in China has often been about suggestions he makes for renaming certain government branches or policies. For example, Bell recommended that the Xuanchuanbu, which is officially translated in English as “Propaganda Department” (and which has recently been renamed the “Publicity Department”), be referred to as the “Department of Communication” or “Department of Public Engagement.” Such proposals are nearly all censored by the Chinese government. This may seem strange. After all, they are made by a native speaker with only good intentions. Yet when we reflect back on hair dye, we glean a coherent line of thinking. Appearance is important, and the most important thing about it is that it holds the society together. If a government cannot even name its own departments properly, how could it ever run them?
Another example is tackling climate change. As with other pressing issues, including human rights or territorial claims in the South China Sea, appearance and its impact on social stability is a large part of the core thought process. The Chinese Communist Party cannot be seen as easily folding to, or even being advised by, foreign powers. To do so would mean “losing face.” So, while Western politicians might pride themselves on (the appearance of) cooperation, which demonstrates a move away from purely (selfish) nationalistic intentions, the Chinese approach differs. Xi Jinping asserts his political legitimacy by saying that China will develop its own plan, and not allowing other nations to impose, or even suggest, their measures. Regardless of what exactly it means for China to follow its own path, or how much foreign influence will be involved, the appearance of China handling its own affairs in a Chinese way remains paramount. It is the black hair of the government.
Delving into central aspects of Chinese academia, Bell balances a nod to the importance of appearance with pointed criticisms. For instance, he describes the role of the “party secretary” assigned to each department. This person directly represents the Chinese Communist Party, and on certain issues holds far more power than the dean. Indeed, they have so much influence that they have to be moved to a different department every five years so as to avoid favoritism. Bell paints an animated picture of what these people do, but does come down rather sharply on some of their ideological duties.
Elsewhere, he looks at how the Chinese universities, like much of the Chinese government, are quite democratic on many levels. Contrary to what some might believe, there is a good deal of meaningful voting in China—and this is based more heavily on merit than in many Western versions. However, in China, a vote is not always binding. When deciding on whom to hire or make a dean, all professors in the department vote, but only a few at the top actually decide. The results of the vote are taken into consideration, and often followed, but not always and not necessarily.
As a dean in a Chinese university in Shanghai myself, I have two critiques to level against The Dean of Shandong. First, the elaborate “reimbursement (報銷)” system in China, which is especially prominent in universities but can be found in many walks of life, is never discussed in Bell’s book. Reimbursement in China is a hyperbureaucratic process that produces strange, almost Orwellian feelings, often leaving one feeling extremely confused and frustrated. For example, a research grant for writing a series of scholarly articles or translating a book will be given as money that needs to be reimbursed. To get the grant money, one needs to provide receipts—some real, some fake—for anything from taxi rides and plane tickets to office supplies and conference fees. The system is clearly problematic as there is no clear correlation between the months I spend translating a book and the receipts for four laptops and 10 copies of a biography of Einstein that I use to get my grant money. There is much to be said about this system, and Bell would have been in a position to provide an insightful and entertaining discussion.
A more serious critique is that, in his book, Bell leaves out the darker side of China. When he speaks of hardworking party secretaries, elaborate dinner arrangements, and drinking rituals, he focuses on how well they function, how people identify with their roles and enjoy participating in their duties. This is all Confucianism and yang-based. But there is also the darker, “Daoist” and yin-based side (the “darkness” of corruption notwithstanding). This darker side is often not well appreciated, even though without it, the Confucian-yang part could not exist. For example, most party secretaries dream of acquiring better academic reputations—many hold PhDs in philosophy—and nearly all of them hope to advance in government (nearly every official starts by holding one of these posts, and is gradually promoted). For those who fail in these aspirations, the work of a party secretary is usually less than fulfilling; they can neither pursue their own academic research nor advance beyond a low-level official. Rather than feel like a Confucian failure, they can then turn, as countless others have throughout Chinese history, to Daoist thinking, which has been an invaluable resource for those who fail to meet various social expectations.
In his chapter on “cuteness,” Bell describes how funny emojis are used even in the most serious communications between high-level bureaucrats. They can express politeness or deference and help soften strained discussions. Bell speculates that in Confucian societies, where a person experiences all sorts of social pressures, a “culture of cuteness […] has an important role to play in legitimizing alternative avenues for socially valuable ways of life.” This is certainly true today, but while “cuteness” might be a newly popular expedient, Daoism has long played this role, and with comparatively more depth. In Confucian societies, Daoist thought offers people not only new paths to legitimization but also alternatives to seeking social legitimization itself. Concentrating too much on the brighter Confucian parts, including cuteness, Bell tends to overlook the darker Daoist side of things, and perhaps underestimates its importance. Ironically enough, what The Dean of Shandong has to offer is itself something Daoist in nature.
Over 20 years ago, Bell arrived in China with a dream of becoming a Chinese politician. Now that he has achieved it, he reflects that he is not really up to the task. The vice dean, Bell claims, did most of the work, while he was more of a “symbolic” figure. A “dean in Shanghai” here begs to differ. Though Bell may have seen his role as more of a novelty than a position of actual leadership, I doubt that those around him felt the same. Foreigners often play cute or symbolic roles in China, but that does not eschew their having real significance. Just as communication between Chinese politicians at the highest level can include cute emojis, and appearance is paramount in governing, a symbolic dean may do much more than he thinks he does. Indeed, in his last chapter, Bell himself provides a compelling argument for symbolic leadership. He does not seem to have realized his own merits here.
When compared with Bell’s other works, including The China Model: Political Meritocracy and the Limits of Democracy (2015) and Just Hierarchy: Why Social Hierarchies Matter in China and the Rest of the World (co-authored with Wang Pei, 2020), his contributions in The Dean of Shandong may appear somewhat casual. There are chapters focused on seemingly trivial issues like hair dye and cuteness, told through a series of personal anecdotes. Yet the book, ultimately, is about how appreciating the role of appearance opens us to better understand a world where such a concept truly is substantial.
Paul J. D’Ambrosio is a professor of Chinese philosophy at East China Normal University in Shanghai, China, where he also serves as dean of the Intercultural Center. He mainly writes on Daoism, medieval Chinese thought, contemporary profile-based identity formation, and the relationship between humans and AI/algorithms.
