本版上最常见的帖子往往都是反映中国某一情况，或一个案例或一个具体事件中折射出的中国当下经济与社会发展的困境。这些问题，常常很分散零碎，表面上看相互之间没有任何联系。所以，很多人认为，中国的问题都是发展中必然存在的问题，随着政府一件一件的去解决，必然能够保证中国社会继续向前发展。

但我觉得，要想对全面认识中国的发展困境，就必须有一个整体思维。认识到当年中国发展中出现的大多数问题，都与党和政府缺乏监督，权力过大，既得利益群体利用公权，客观上造成了对普通民众的压榨和侵害。而普通人民权利缺失，无法表达自己的政治意愿和利益诉求，甚至在受到侵害时，没有能力捍卫自己的合法权益。而造成上述状况的主要原因是我们仍然在实行实质上是一种专制性质的威权社会体制。不从根本上打破这个威权体制，就无法保证党和政府能够被广大普通民众监督，能够真正的“全心全意地为人民服务”。这就是我说的整体思维！

但要想打破这个威权体制，是不是一夜之间就能够实现的呢？肯定不是的。从客观条件上来说，人民群众的民主意识还比较缺乏，当然这也和威权体制国家机器过于强大，在政治上和思想上一贯采取高压政策，打击民主思想和民主人士分不开的。至少在短时间内，我们看不到这种“毕其功于一役”的可能。所以，针对一件一件事情去做，在有限的空间里去争得一点一滴的民主，是当前能够打破威权体制的最有效的策略和方法。这样一方面，不断给既得利益者所代表的威权体制以压力，逼迫其自身朝民主的方向让步，另一方面，也能够不断的促进普通民众民主意识的觉醒。那么在两方面的合力之下，当达到某个临界点之时，这个威权体制的崩塌就是一个必然的事件。当然，可能很多人会说，打破了威权体制，是不是中国的民主化之路就完结了，中国民主就胜利了呢？当然不是。与其说这是中国民主之路的终结，不如说是中国民主之路的开始或者起点。真正的民主的确不是三权分立、人民投票那么简单，这种有名无实的民主在全世界随处可见。包括美国等西方民主社会也不能说就是完美的，他们的民主体制也在不断的探索之中。但如果你连这个民主这个“名”都没有，民主的“实”更是永远不可能实现！最后我想说，民主是一种意识是一种生活是一种实践。但在目前的阶段，这些对中国来讲，还是奢侈品，中国现在最主要的任务就是打破威权体制，促进民主之“名”的建立。

爱人的信

亲爱的老家伙：

      其实今天和您通完话后，在去打饭的路上，就很想给您发短信的，呵呵，您肯定想象不到。后来因为我的小手机的遥杆又出现问题，才只好作罢了。那个时候，就是很感慨，在夜幕下一个人穿梭在人来人往的通往食堂的小路上，满眼都是陌生的面孔，情侣们、朋友们、独行侠们，寒风也吹着，可我就是觉得很温暖、很舒畅、很轻快，真的，刚和您通完话，给我了这样的感觉，我当时一点都没有觉得自己形单影支。呵呵，因为不论您在哪里，都是我的寄托，都给了我很大的力量。

       亲爱的老兆，今天不好意思，又和您哭鼻子了，您总是那么好，在我沮丧无助的时候安慰鼓励我，在我任性保守的时候引导我给我讲道理，在我得意忘形的时候放纵欣赏我，在我虚张声势的时候宽容原谅我，在我没有自信的时候肯定赞美我，还经常得哄我这个小女孩儿的小情绪，真是难为您了，呵呵。您总是默默付出，而不是高调的，我的老兆是个好男友，相信将来也会是个好丈夫。呵呵，也要开您玩笑的，您有时是有那么点儿理性、绷着脸、挑剔、爱争辩，可是正因为此，您才是可爱的、真实的您，才会成为我欣赏的正派的、责任心强的、有才华和品位的、不花心的老顽童啊，所以我也在慢慢学习在以后多欣赏您那"烦人"的一面的。

       亲爱的，今天真的很想向您表达我的感情和谢意，还有就是我很想念您，想念我爱的同时也爱我的老兆。

                                                                                                        写信时居然还哭了点鼻子的情感型的小柳

China’s Journos Dodge the Censors(zt)

by Ilaria Maria Sala

Chinese newsstands get more impressive by the day: So much is on offer that most of them have opted to add a few extra magazine holders on the pavement. Here, a holder brimming with publications on collecting and the arts, interior decoration, and architecture. Opposite, another one with magazines on golf and various sports, cars, aviation, video games and so on. Conspicuous consumption publications abound, taking pride of place among the plethora of fashion magazines that becomes ever larger: all the famous international names are there, from Vogue to Cosmopolitan, busy “educating the taste” (as they claim) of contemporary Chinese urban women.

Sometimes, incongruity is part of the deal, like when Vogue hailed the “Country Girl” fashion style in English and Chinese on its cover. Inside, no peasant woman from Shaanxi province wrapped in padded cotton layers, but instead a southern belle in Texan hat and boots, pouting seductively from a pile of hay. Not so long ago the same type of urban youth that now reads these publications were “sent down” to rural areas to be re-educated by the peasants (no sexily made up country girl in Texan hat then), and today the newsstands, which are still owned by the Ministry of Post and Telecommunications and sport its logo, do tell the story of the vast changes that have turned the industry—as much else in China—on its head.

It used to be that newspapers were only available by subscription, or, in some cases, at the post office itself. But today only large, mainstream newspapers are sold by subscription, while the more popular commercial newsmagazines and papers can be found everywhere—in the capital, these include the Xin Jing Bao, or Beijing News, published by the Nanfang Group and the Guangming Daily Group (both groups are operated by the party), together with the increasingly popular Evening Legal Daily, and the reputed Nanfang Zhoumo, or Southern Weekend a high-brow, high-quality weekly. The business weekly Caijing usually sits among other news glossies and a few very serious literary magazines.

While this goes to show how hungry for written information people in China are, and how readily the market is trying to satisfy their demands, it is unavoidable to wonder: can such printed abundance really be monitored, censored, and controlled?

“There is not a single private publication in China, this remains strictly forbidden,” says Li San, a journalist working for Sanlian Shenghuo, the highest-selling weekly glossy (although circulation figures are not divulged). It’s a magazine that carries stories on lifestyle, society, celebrities and economics. Mr. Li himself, a very well-groomed man in his forties, a bit vain and determined not to look at all political, writes mostly about “wine, cars, luxury products: stuff that, for China, is a novelty. So, by testing these new products we are doing our readers a service”, he says. Even though it is a decidedly light magazine, Sanlian cannot be independent—it is published by the Sanlian Book Publication Group, which operates under the China Editions Group, a large publishing company that is linked to the Ministry of Propaganda. And none of this guarantees Sanlian immunity from trouble: in April the magazine was penalized and its editor reprimanded for having covered “politically sensitive anniversaries.” Nothing particularly unheard of, as what the magazine carried were photos that can be freely seen in China: a picture of Jiang Qing, or Madame Mao, standing trial at the end of the Cultural Revolution; and one of Mao himself, on the 30th anniversary of his death.

The magazine was penalized with the loss of “six points,” following the latest fashion for controlling publications—the point system is similar to the system some countries use to penalize reckless drivers. A deficit of 12 points and the publication is forced to fold.

“Most magazines, and a few local newspapers, are called ‘commercial’: they do not receive money from the state, but are nevertheless affiliated with some ministries, or local governments, in order to be allowed publication. Big mainstream papers, like the People’s Daily, or Liberation Daily, are directly run by various state organs. Officially, since 2003, they do not receive money from the state either, but…well, that seems unlikely”, says Zhang Jing, vice-editor of Caijing, the business weekly which, together with the Nanfang Group’s other publications, carries the greatest number of critical, informative articles in spite of the censorship and controls. These have become even stricter in the run-up to the 17th Party Congress (opening mid-October) and next year’s Olympic Games.

Mr. Zhang is a very slim man in his mid-40s, sporting a sideways hair style that was very fashionable in the 1980s. He has studied journalism at People’s University, in Beijing, and talks about his profession with passion and idealism. “Our first duty is towards our readers. We must be reliable and tell the truth. Today, we have more leeway: of course there are issues that simply cannot be touched, and there are setbacks, but nobody could accuse Caijing of printing propaganda!” he says, sitting in his small office just across from the newsroom. The latter is a vast space that covers a whole floor on a new, shiny office tower in downtown Beijing. But even here the interior is a little gray and drab. Reporters are typing away on their keyboards, exchanging comments, chatting, pouring over an article or a Web page: the usual concentrated, inquisitive background noise of newsrooms. Yet, most Chinese journalists on a first meeting with a newcomer display a distinct caution, often symbolized by that brief look behind one’s shoulder. It is an acknowledged fact that not all of one’s colleagues are simply reporters; some are surely informers, yet nobody knows for sure who is an informer.

One of the latest issues of Mr. Zhang’s magazine carried a detailed report on water pollution in China, one of several environmental problems that have reached the level of national crisis, and are frequently discussed in the press. But in an article concerning the alarming levels of pollution on lake Tai, China’s third-largest lake on the border between Zhejiang and Jiangsu provinces, Wu Lihong, an environmentalist who spent more than 15 years attempting to clean up the lake, is conspicuously absent.

Previously nominated as one of China’s most effective environmentalist, Mr. Wu was sentenced in August to three years imprisonment for “racketeering”—or, as most observers believe, for running afoul of local officials who benefit from the polluting industries along the lake. Caijing did report Mr. Wu’s arrest, but has not mentioned the activist since.

“Well, obviously, there are things we cannot report, it would be useless to pretend the contrary”, says Mr. Zhang: “Chinese reporters, today, are under three kinds of pressure: censorship, the market, and the risk of being beaten up by thugs who may be hired by local officials or private businessmen to prevent reporters from digging up stories,” he says.

“Until now, no reporter from my magazine has been beaten up, but it might happen, as it has happened to others, and there is simply nothing we can do to protect the journalists that we are sending out. Nothing,” he says.

Cases of reporters beaten up while trying to cover stories are numerous. Among recent cases, the most notorious happened to journalists who tried to report on the Fenghuang bridge collapse (Hunan province), which killed scores of people last August. Five reporters, including Wang Weijiang, from the Communist Party’s People’s Daily, were kicked and punched by a group of people that have been described as thugs. Nobody is safe from these hired hoodlums according to a recent report by Human Rights Watch, “You Will Be Harassed and Detained”, which details the many impediments to media freedom encountered in China (in spite of the assurances of greater openness that the Chinese government had given to boost its candidacy as host of the Olympic Games). Non-uniformed men openly follow journalists, Chinese or foreign, and intimidate them, all the while refusing to produce identification or declare their affiliation. Often, they seem to be plain-clothes officers; this, despite new rules that guarantee temporary free access to people and places (except Tibet) for the foreign media.

Unfortunately the new regulations do not apply to Chinese journalists: many restrictions still limit them and their work. “For me, there is no choice: I can only be a journalist,” says Liu Chang, one of the most important young investigative reporters, with the China Youth Daily. A very quiet man, he points out of the windows of the meeting room at his newspaper, and says: “You see, our society…and the city itself, change so quickly. We must strive to leave a written diary of what is happening. I do not mean our personal diary, but that of those who have no voice. The workers who have built Beijing’s skyscrapers, but have remained poor and without protection. The peasants whose land has been expropriated to build these same skyscrapers without adequate compensation. And the miners, the workers who get injured or die in work accidents. It is to give them a voice that I write,” he says.

“We all know that there is a line beyond which we cannot go, but nobody ever spells it out for you. It would be easier if we knew…. Instead, it is up to us to keep on pushing, gently though, otherwise we get stopped. We must use our intelligence, and write as much as possible, without getting censored or beaten,” says Y. M. (not her real initials), a reporter for a national daily. “The risks are there, but I believe ours is an important job that allows us to truly contribute to our society,” she says. The “risks” range from a tighter control by the authorities over the newsroom, to the outright termination of a story (a measure that is especially effective because Chinese journalists are paid according to the number of characters they print, on top of a meager monthly stipend for those employed by a publication). Risks also include political intimidation, forced resignation or, in the severest cases, detention—not forgetting the thugs.

Not everything is a guessing game though: the Propaganda Department and other ministries send regular letters “advising” against the use of certain words (“‘constitutionalism’ has been on the black list for a while!” says Y. M., amused) or topics—to reveal what these words and topics are is illegal, as this is a state secret.

Defy the ban, and you will be punished, as happened to the Nanfang Group after the Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome epidemic, or last year to the Beijing News after reporting on street protests in a northern city. “It is a game of wits,” says Li Datong, the former editor in chief of Bingdian (Freezing Point), a weekly supplement of the China Youth Daily. He was dismissed from his post last January, after printing one too many challenging articles. His fame and popularity did not protect him, and today Mr. Li, 54, spends his time writing on his own and chain-smoking.

“What happened to me is not important: every now and then, one of us gets hit. But the freedoms that we have conquered cannot be taken back. Readers are now accustomed to a freer environment, and they will never settle for less. Of course, we are still far from abolishing censorship, and you know how it goes, it is not just a matter of what, but also when, we can write,” he says. A genial man, he talks with sudden bursts of laughter, moving his arms and hands around vigorously. “Our calendar is peppered with ‘sensitive’ moments: because of the Party Congress, the summer has been very tense, and then, there will be the Olympics. But even in a normal year, it is full of obstacles! In March, there is the National People’s Congress plenary session, nothing goes. June? Tiananmen anniversary, hopeless. April and May too: full of politically delicate anniversaries, forget it! October? Be on your guard, National Day is there,” he laughs.

“You do not know what the Party will accept, so the responsibility is on the reporter, the editor, the vice-editor-in-chief, and the editor-in-chief. But everyone in the chain is becoming bolder. Every now and then, there’s a chill. But,” he adds, using one of his favorite metaphors: “think of a rubber balloon: the press swells up, clamoring for space. The balloon has to expand, and becomes thinner. What happens then?” he asks.

与网友的对答——“好”政府与“坏”政府的标准是什么？

的确，世界上没有任何一个政府是完美的，完美到国家的每一个成员都全心拥护。甚至，在大多数情况下，人们普遍对政府表示出更多的抱怨，而不是满意。但是，这是不是就说，我们就没办法判断一个政府是“好”政府还是“坏”政府了呢？

答案肯定是否定的。标准在上文我已经提到过了，“如果政府是在人民的意志下建立，能够充分表达人民的意愿，并且愿意为人民的利益而服务”。如果说，完全达到这个标准或者说完美是不可能的，至少我们是朝这个方向去努力的。要想实现上述目标，当然不是简单的说把所谓某个国家的政府“搬”到另一个国家去，而是有一套政治机制来保证能够产生这样的政府，并按照我们既定的目标去运作。这个机制就是民主。“民主并不是一个完美的机制，只是在所有试验过的国家体制中，最不坏的一个”。

至于，简单的以经济指标作为衡量一个政府是“好”是“坏”，显然是有所片面的。就拿你说的德国的例子，二战之前包括二战之中的德国，在希特勒的统治下，德国经济有一个比较快速的发展，人民生活水平也有所提高。但这一切最后导致了什么？

就中国的情况而言，把中国改革以来的经济成就全都记在政府的账上，不仅是不符合事实的，也是略显荒谬的。
改革以来，我们的政府把国家的发展纳入正常的轨道，的确取得了较大的经济发展成就。但建国之后，改革之前，我们的政府牺牲了整整两三代人搞运动，不是造成我们生活水平低下直接原因吗？言外之意，我们现在经济发展速度快，人民生活水平提高幅度巨大，难道不是我们之前落后太多吗？“忘却历史，就会遮蔽我们的眼睛”。好比是一个无罪的囚徒，在受尽了折磨和困苦之后，终于被取下了枷锁，难道他还要感谢给他戴上枷锁的人吗？

何况，随着改革程度的加深，我们的政治体制在很多方面已经成为经济进一步发展的桎梏。就经济的总体而言，现在我们的发展，难道不是以牺牲大多数普通的人利益为代价的发展吗？难道不是以牺牲下代人甚至后几代人的利益的发展吗？就具体的经济环境而言，也不像你说的形势大好，一片和谐！不见垄断部门大行其道，无视普通消费者的权益；政府部门动辄以保护国有资产为名，动用行政权力巧取豪夺私有财产；同时既得利益者们又以保护私产为名，把国有资产装进自己的腰包；普通老百姓收入水平的确在提高，但在整个收入增长中的份额越来越少，而且收入差距也越来越大。。。

最后，还要澄清一点，拥不拥护一个政府和颠覆一个政府的行为，是有本质区别的。不拥护代表对政府的基本观点和看法是不抱有希望，但这并不意味着要采取实质性的行为，所谓“妄图颠覆政府”。事实上，恐怕中国政府几乎不可能被颠覆，只能被瓦解和分化。