China on the Verge of a "Momentous Era"

In the winter of 1927 Lu Xun summarized China's condition: "China is currently on the verge of entering a momentous era. But 'momentous' doesn't necessarily mean it will bring life, it can also mean death."¹ Drawing on what Lu Xun wrote later, this "momentous era" is similar to the "crisis in the medical sense, as the parting of ways between life and death, which may lead straight to death or recovery."² I never imagined that, seventy years later, when choosing an expression to describe the feeling of contemporary life, I would feel that "momentous era" is still the most accurate. On many occasions since Lu Xun's death, people have believed that China was on a new path and had completely distanced itself from those horrible feelings of upheaval, collapse, and an unpredictable future. In the late 1970s even I was infused with such optimism. However, after experiencing the disorientation of twenty years of twists and turns under "reform," sentiments all too familiar to Chinese in the past—conviction that common society is corrupt, ambivalence about conflicting social phenomena, perplexity in comprehending the fate of the nation and the self—started to spread once again. "Where is China headed?" The question, seemingly so far removed seven or eight years ago, has suddenly reappeared. Moreover, it instigates a series of more detailed questions: "What kind of society is China today anyway?" "Is it still a socialist country?" "Within the world structure of globalism, what is the relationship between China's modernization and capitalism?" "In the process of China's current modernization what changes have occurred in the State, its system of organization, its social classes, its totalitarian ideology?" "Who are the greatest beneficiaries of these changes, and who are the greatest victims?" "Is society in the midst of a crisis?" "What kind of crisis?" "How is it taking shape?" "What are the positive elements in today's society, and how can these be harnessed to mitigate this crisis?" "If crisis were to suddenly erupt, what would result?" "Would there be sunshine after the storm, or a long period of haze?" Today, those who take an honest look at the reality of their own lives will very likely formulate many questions such as these and will feel their pressing weight. I believe today's Chinese intellectuals must take responsibility for providing clear answers to these questions.³

This definitely is not easy. The perpetual changes over the past twenty years have greatly altered the shape of Chinese society, especially in the southeastern coastal areas, which have changed beyond recognition. The gap between various regions in present-day China is so great it is almost shocking.

4 Not only is there a vast difference between the southeast coast and northwest interior, there are even tremendous disparities between cities, such as between those silent, old industrial cities in the recession-stricken northeast and the flourishing consumer culture in cities like Hangzhou and Wenzhou, or between large cities such as Guangzhou and Tianjin, or Shanghai and Beijing. Moreover, the differences are not merely material, but also spiritual; they are not only economic and ecological, but also cultural and political. Even as Deng Lijun's gentle music fills dance halls in Taiyuan, Shanghai high school students purchase the latest Westlife CD. While a group of traveling county chiefs from Ningxia engage in endless debate about whether it is a mistake to visit Chiang Kaishek's old home, the "professional achievement" of officials in Xiamen (long ago in cahoots with the criminal element) consists of turning a private profit of billions of yuan. On the same day that, say, a Chengdu Party newspaper publishes a social commentary severely criticizing the "corrosion" of capitalism, a Shanghai government representative hosts the CEO of an overseas company. And a book censored in Beijing is very likely placed in plain sight on the shelves of some private bookstore in, for...