reflection I want to dedicate myself to Liu, the Chinese dissident who was given the Award Nobel.Ho wrote these lines during my last trip to China.
No, I never really loved the cinese.Anche communism in the years when I was immersed in the passion sessantottino, when several were left in China and the infatuated China took everything at face value, even then I could not feel close to this great paese.Certo, the Cultural Revolution as an idea I liked, in fact, I liked just because his name was so. The Chinese names, yet they . How do you care even some slogans, bouncing from China and seems made to express what I carried inside. "Bomb the Headquarters" or "A hundred flowers bloom, a hundred schools vie 'melody to the ears of kids like me. ; words that belonged to our dreams of a society less oppressive, less authoritarian, words that speak out in my first parades. I put my hands on fire, if that were served bear out the truth of the thought of Mao when he asserts that the "contradictions among the people and the Party", also survived the revolution, because the Hegelian process of thesis-antithesis-synthesis does not cease with the seizure of power, because most specifically, the risk dell'imborghesimento brought it with us. And it was at least curious, of course, that such words, so imbued with a need for freedom, comes from a country where freedom was not there. It was all lies, nothing was true. Or worse, is transformed into its opposite, to the delight of lovers of Hegel, provided that there were indeed: and this I have always doubted. China as it was actually still know very little: only a few news filtered through, few images, the horror of the Cultural Revolution. It was easy to brand as anti-communist propaganda that was being said around the purges and the firing squad, the hunger suffered by the masses of peasants and the destruction of the monasteries. If even the best companies could end up being enemies of the people, then the Party - the party with a capital P - had to have eyes everywhere, beware of all, take everything. Big Brother was not hyper and future Orwell's novel, but it worked stesso.Cosa was behind the systematically repeated exhortations to self-criticism? What's behind the times rehabilitation, and what he meant "learn how to make the revolution by making"? I did not know yet, or tried not to know. And all I can say to my detriment, really, is that despite these slogans the Chinese revolution I have never really captured. Shouted words, but with my head away. Shells of mind, his heart was already pointed toward diverse.In Latin America, Africa, rather. But not in that continent in its own right that was, that is China.
Viva la revolution, the revolution in China today morta.Se think these are the words that come to mind, but the headquarters to bomb, leaps forward and stand out from the blooms that explode colori.Non a thousand words are memorable, of course. But in the absence of some pearl of wisdom inspired by Confucian or Taoist, is what passes the monastery. Especially since the idea. These days in Beijing, under a pall of smog and heat, these days that drag that mounts between boredom and impatience that I try to keep at bay, lead me at least great thoughts. Other words, I pass through and leave a flash of nostalgia, the echo of a teenage reading, sometimes the feeling of a perfume or a music. The riches of Cathay, the fabled court of Kublai Khan and Marco Polo as Cambaluc then called Peking. And more that socialist China: I would like to jump a single bound, a single leap backward and not forward, the times of Mao and the five-year plans to go back, leave behind even China in the Opium War and the injustices of the colonial powers, to arrive at a time when China was yet to open a chest, a treasure to unearth. Marco Polo's China, still a virgin in the eyes of Christian travelers, terra incognita for missionaries and soldiers and businessmen. A world of ineffable wisdom and Forbidden City, paddy fields and silences. A thousand-year history in a few decades has been dismissed without hesitation, without regret. First we thought the community, in our eagerness to eradicate old habits and ancestral beliefs. Then he provided the most savage capitalism, although still cloaked red flags: no ideological claims, but equally deadly heat. In this journey, Paul, I met a country that is sinking over-excited in his stay here the same crescita.Cosa Communism? The mummified corpse of the Great Helmsman in his crystal coffin? The distant echoes of the Long March? The yellowed sheets of Little Red Book? It's simple and I can not find words to say: it remains a country without basic values \u200b\u200bthat thinks of doing business without worrying about the most basic rights umani.Non plus gray and buttoned tunics of Chou En Lai and Lin Piao, but the pull of new faces tangerines Party and state. The heirs of Deng Xiaoping: always smiling expressions, grisaille with dark shirts and ties signed seta.Non is no place today for the pioneers of socialism. Today managers are ruthless and efficient, capable of running the giant conglomerates of states and markets in China launch of globalization. People who can decipher the trajectory of the economy, and acceleration hesitation read, keep their accounts on openings and closings of stock exchanges in New York, London and Frankfurt. All have been knocking on the door of the new mandarins. Have rushed to sign bilateral agreements, they jostle to participate in the cutting of the cake. Trade, first of all. Someone between them has probably require commitments on freedom and democracy? Scenes from real capitalism.
http://picasaweb.google.com/titobarbini26 
0 comments:
Post a Comment