美国人的忧患意识来源与假想敌情结
文章来源: 润涛阎2016-12-04 20:38:38

多年以前润涛阎在旧作里提到美国人从上到下都有极强的忧患意识,今天详细介绍这极强的忧患意识之来源与美国人心目中无时不在的假想敌情结。

在1854年,美国疆土扩大到了西海岸,便与被追赶到西海岸的印第安人发生了最后的激战。一位叫西雅图的部落领袖被当时的西部第一富豪、曾经是医生的亨利-史密斯接触,史密斯引线搭桥,西雅图先生便与指挥灭绝印第安人的将领谈判。双方最终达成协议:印第安人把西海岸的土地卖给医生史密斯,从而获得不被灭绝的待遇---成立印第安人保留区。他们将在那里被政府保护。西雅图先生面对参加谈判的白人代表们发表了演说。印第安人与东北亚人包括日本人中国人韩国人蒙古人同源。西雅图先生聪明过人(否则也当不上部落领袖),勤奋好学,跟白人学会了英语。这个演说的英文全文被史密斯医生留了下来,在1887年发表了出来。当时没有什么疑问,但后人对如此妙笔生花的美文是否出自白人瞧不起的印第安人西雅图先生之手产生了怀疑。也许史密斯医生对西雅图先生的演讲稿在西雅图演讲之前润色过,也有人怀疑是史密斯的作品。从历史作用的角度看,此文是否出自西雅图本人还是西雅图与史密斯二人合作之产品甚或是史密斯医生(当时的首富,第一地产商)独自写就,并不重要。重要的是:西雅图先生的演讲打动了白人将领而导致印第安人没有被灭绝,留下了印第安人保留区。更重要的是:此文自公开发表后,很快就成了美国很多高中、大学甚至后来的研究生院学生的英文写作范文。

这篇演讲稿成为一百多年来的写作范文,表面上说是因为写得水平极高,而事实上是因为它给美国人在读书阶段就被“洗脑”,对美国人产生的极强的忧患意识有着无法代的功能。该功能表现在两方面:一是从此一百年的韬光养晦,不再发生对其它民族的战争,并在第二次世界大战胜利后也不再掠夺土地,在解放菲律宾后同意菲律宾公投脱美,在报复了日本偷袭珍珠港后尽量满足日本天皇的要求,甚至不让德国赔偿二战损失还帮助建设德国(米歇尔计划)。在中国志愿军出战朝鲜时,拒绝动用原子弹与中国人结仇。学校的学生们从心底抛弃种族歧视提倡种族融合,以避免遭到报复。另一方面,美国人经历了百多年的“西雅图警告”(请见下面的介绍)的熏陶,时时刻刻着眼于谁是具有灭绝美国潜力的假想敌。

下面先看西雅图先生当初的演讲稿说的是什么。本来我觉得我没必要翻译这篇妙文,给出英文原文就可以了。只是考虑到在日本的读者,看不懂英文,我就不得不大篇幅介绍这篇文章,那比全部翻译出来还费劲。这里说明一下:我把原文大意翻译一下。在英语国家的读者,建议读后面的英文原文。不论是把中文作品翻译成英文还是把英文作品翻译成中文,译文总比不上原文。

印第安人部落领袖西雅图先生1854年演说的真实文本:

老天爷在为我的人民流下怜悯的泪水。千百年来我们以为那些永恒的无法改变的东西将会改变,这令老天爷都无法不动容。今天天气明朗但不能保证明天不会覆雨翻云,而我的话语则像永恒不变的星空,不会随着时间的变化而改变。华盛顿的伟大酋长应该坚信我西雅图所言,如同坚信太阳回归与四季轮回。白人领袖告诉我他的华盛顿首领给我们带来了友谊与善意的问候。

这是他的善良,因为我们清楚他并不需要我们对他所表达善意的回报。他们人多势众,多如草原上的野草;而我们的人所剩无几就像被暴风雨冲刷过后的树木。我假设他们的所言由衷:白首领告诉我,他们要买我们的土地,留下一些给我们让我们能过上舒适的生活。显然,在我们红脸人再也没有了被尊重的权力后,如此的提议是明智的,毕竟我们不需要一个广阔的国土了。

有一段时间,我们的人民拥有了这片土地,宛如波涛汹涌的大海覆盖了铺满了贝壳的海床,但是那段时间已经过去,现在只是伟大部落的一个悲惨记忆。我不会裹足不前,也不会哀叹我们红脸人不合时宜的消亡,也不责备我的白面孔的兄弟们加快了这一过程。尽管我们有被责备的理由。

年轻人是冲动的。当我们的年轻人对一些真实的或假想的错误行为而气愤,脸色黑如漆,表明他们的心里也是如此黑暗,行动便变得残酷无情。我们的老男人和老妇人约束不住他们。这的确发生过,但那只是发生在白人开始把我们的长辈往西部驱逐的时候。希望我们之间的敌对不再继续了,让它永远成为历史。否则我们只有所失而无所得。年轻人认为复仇就是收获,即使以他们的生命为代价。而在战争时期留在家里的老人和失去儿子的母亲看得更清楚。

我们在华盛顿的好国父 --- 我认为他现在是我们的父亲也是你们的父亲,因为乔治国王进一步向北扩大了领土 --- 我们伟大的好父亲,我想请您告诉我:如果我们按照您的愿望行事,您会保护我们。您的勇士将是保护我们的铜墙铁壁,您那美妙的战舰将开进我们的港口,使我们北部的传统敌人海达斯部落和尖沙咀部落将不再恐吓我们的妇女儿童与老人。然后在现实中您将是我们的父亲,我们是您的孩子。但是,这可能吗?您的神不是我们的神!您的神爱他的子民,恨我的子民!他用他强壮的手臂慈爱地保护白孩子,像父亲一样领着幼儿的手前行。然而,他已经离弃了他的红孩子,就算你们说的当真你们的神爱世人红孩子们真的也是他的孩子。而我们的神,大灵,似乎也离弃了我们。你们的神使他的子民日益强大。很快,他们会占领我们所有的土地。我的人民正在消失,就像迅速退缩的潮流,永远不会回来。白人的上帝不可能爱我的人也不会保护他们。他们似乎是孤儿,无处寻求救助。你我怎能成为兄弟?你的上帝如何能成为我们的神并重振我们的繁荣让我们实现再次伟大的梦想?如果我们有一个共同的爱世人的天父,那他肯定是偏心的,他只引领他的白脸孩子。我们从没见过他。他给你们法律条文,但从不替他的红脸孩子们说一句公道话,尽管红脸人巨大的群体曾经在这广博的大陆繁衍,犹如恒星填满了穹苍。不!我们是两个不同的种族,具有独立的起源与独立的命运。我们之间很少有共同点。

对我们来说,我们祖先的灰烬是神圣的,他们的安息之地是圣地。你们远离你们的祖先的墓地,似乎没有后悔。你们的宗教,是你们的神用他的铁手写在石板上的,令你们无法忘记,红脸人永远不能理解或记住它。我们的宗教是我们祖先的传统 --- 我们老人的梦想(那是伟大的圣灵在庄严的夜晚给予他们的)和我们灵魂的愿景,并写在我们人民的心中(润涛阎注:印第安人只有语言没有文字)。

你们死去的人一旦通过坟墓的门就不再爱你们也不再爱他们的诞生之地,跑得远过天上的星星。他们很快就被忘记了,且永远不会回来。而我们死去的人永远不会忘记这个带给他们生命的美丽世界,他们依然爱着它的青翠的山谷、朦胧的河流、壮丽的山脉、被劈开的峡谷和嫩绿的湖边与海湾,永远渴望着对孤独心灵生活的极度喜爱的感情,并经常从愉快的狩猎地回来游览、指引、安慰活着的人们并令他们愉快。

白天和黑夜不能同住在一起。 红脸人已经逃离白人的追赶,就像早晨的薄雾在朝阳面前逃走。 不过,你们的主张似乎是公平的,我认为我的人民将接受它,并将退到你们提供给他们的保留地。 然后我们将和平地分开,因为伟大白人首领的言论对我们来说似乎是让我们从黑暗中走出来,犹如大自然的召唤。

我们在何处度过我们的残存之日并不重要,因为我们来日无多。 印第安人的夜晚绝对是黑暗的, 没有一颗希望之星会徘徊在它的地平线之上。 悲伤的风在四处哀嚎;严酷的命运正等在红脸人的路上令他们随地都能听到驱逐者在接近;他们随时准备面对厄运就像受伤的母鹿听到了接近它的猎人的脚步声。

再过几个月夜或几个严冬,将不是那些曾经驰骋在这片广博的田野或生活在幸福的家中被大神灵保护的红脸人后裔继续在墓前哀悼那些曾经比你们更强大更有希望的亡灵。 我何必要为我们红脸人的不幸命运哀伤? 部落被部落取代、民族被民族更替,如同大海后浪推前浪。 这是自然的法则,遗憾是无用的。离你们衰亡的时间可能还很遥远,但它一定会来,即使是白人,你们的上帝与你们边走边谈,亲如朋友,也无法逃脱同样的命运。 到那一天,我们便是难兄难弟。 我们会看到那一天的到来,不信就等着瞧。

我们会思考你们的主张(放弃土地,放弃反抗,进入保留区),当我们做出最后决定后便会告知你们。是的,我们应该接受它,不过我在这里提出谈判条件:我们有权力随时可以回来给我们的祖先、我们死去的孩子与死去的朋友上坟而不受到你们的阻扰。在我们的人民心中这里的每一寸土地都是神圣的。经历了喜乐或悲哀的每个山坡、每个峡谷、每个平原和树林,将在几天后便成为我们的记忆。即使是愚钝的岩石,在有阳光时也沉岩默岸,也会记住我的人民经历过的生死存亡的动荡事件;你现在脚踩着的泥土,对我们的脚印所表露出的爱与留恋远远超过对你们的欢迎,因为它饱含着我们祖先的血液,我们的赤脚能感受到它的同情的触摸。万水千山都是情。可爱的母亲,欢乐幸福的少妇,甚至住在这里或只在这里短暂生活过几季的小孩子,都会认同我们放弃勇敢,这一令人抑郁的态度。黄昏时分他们会唤起朦胧的回归精神。当我们红脸人最后一个灭亡的时候,我的部落的记忆将成为你们白人间传说的神话,那些看不到的我部落的亡灵将与这海岸同在。当你们的孩子的孩子在田野感到孤独时,看到的只有沉寂的商场店铺公路与树木,然而,他们并非真的孤独。在地球上,没有孤独的地方。夜幕降临,当你们的城市与村庄的街道寂静下来,你别以为你们的子民被遗弃了而举目无亲,曾经拥有这块土地的主人们的亡灵会返回来与他们同住,因为返回的主人们依然爱着这片美丽的土地。阴魂相伴,白人永远不会孤独。

请他(你们华盛顿的领袖)公平善待我的子民,因为死了的人并非真的无能无力了。死了?我说过这两个字吗?世界上没有死亡,只有世道轮回与更替。

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网人说:重要的部分说三遍。不过,我认为说两遍就足够了。下面把西雅图先生留给美国后人的警句(抑或当时是诅咒?)单独拿出来:

“再过几个月夜或几个严冬,将不是那些曾经在这片广阔的土地上驰骋或生活在幸福的家中被大神灵保护的红脸人后裔继续在墓前哀悼那些曾经比你们更强大更有希望的亡灵。 我何必要为我们红脸人的不幸命运哀伤? 部落被部落取代、民族被民族更替,如同大海后浪推前浪。 这是自然的法则,遗憾是无用的。离你们衰亡的时间可能还很遥远,但它一定会来,即使是白人,你们的上帝与你们边走边谈,亲如朋友,也无法逃脱同样的命运。 到那一天,我们便是难兄难弟。 我们会看到那一天的到来,不信就等着瞧。”

在1887年的年代,美国媒体就能把这样的诅咒话语公开发表出来,表明美国白人那时的内心还是强大的,因为他们清楚这样的警示并非只有自责、被诅咒的负面效果,也有激励后人自强不息艰苦奋斗的正面意义。与美国同一个种族同一个宗教的欧洲白人远没有美国人的强大忧患意识与假想敌情结。

本文发表后,美国白人对印第安人的态度立刻大转弯,著名的《道斯土地分配法案》便成为法律,目的在于想把印第安人同化于美国白人之中。虽然该法案的实施其效果刚好相反,印第安人反而失去了更多的土地,也未跟白人走向同化之路。直到黑人的民权运动,才改变了少数族裔包括华裔、印第安人等族裔的社会地位。然而,“西雅图警句”对世世代代美国白人的忧患意识起到的正面作用是巨大的,也令他们时时刻刻从两方面着想:一方面需要和解民族矛盾,最后发展到政治正确地步;另一方面随时盯着世界上哪个民族可能成为“西雅图警句”里令美国白人重蹈印第安人覆辙的假想敌。在第二次世界大战之前,美国基本上不参与他国的战争,孤立主义成为全社会的共识。也就是说不招惹他人。在日本偷袭珍珠港之前,美国的军力早已是世界第一,经济上美国是第一债权国,但美国仍然韬光养晦不出头。二战灭了希特勒与日本后,美国立刻找到的假想敌是苏联。苏联与共产主义阵营的高速发展的确令美国不敢怠慢。苏联垮台后,美国有两派,一派认为亨廷顿的观点是对的(中东伊斯兰教国家的独裁政权是美国的第一假想敌),一派认为俄罗斯依然是美国的第一假想敌。这两派都属于建制派。认同这两个假想敌的不论哪一派占上风或两派轮着来,都给中国在夹缝中借助全球化的西风迅速崛起提供了天机。在这两派的假想敌还未被消弱时,商人闯王登场了。

闯王不认同建制派里的两派,他认为美国需要掉转船头,因为建制派里的这两派把假想敌都搞错了。

闯王起先的思路是:重新回到二战前美国孤立主义的老路,把制造业重新拉回来,让美国成为那时的世界最大债权国,而现在是世界最大债务国。路子彻底走反了。

然而,闯王在获得总统位子后他必须组阁他的班子。在组阁他的班子时他发现他想走回头路的设想是“此路不通”,因为他找不到认同他的理念的同路人。当初口头上认同他理念的副总统候选人盆子也绝不会真的认同闯王的理念,只是等组阁时其他人都劝闯王时再谈不迟。闯王无法彻底脱离开建制派,他必须与共和党的议员大佬们共商国是。而建制派国会议员们不可能认同闯王走孤立主义道路。闯王剩下的另一条路便是:远离伊斯兰教,咱们井水不犯河水行不?闯王不认同经济上半死不活的俄罗斯会成为美国的假想敌,它早已没有了资格。只要美国不再与中东伊斯兰世界纠缠,不参与欧盟对俄罗斯的敌对行为,俄罗斯就没机会与美国作对。闯王不想再次与中东伊斯兰世界纠缠下去,与俄罗斯缠斗毫无意义(因为闯王认为俄罗斯不可能成为美国的假想敌了),就是防止再次给中国“一带一路”提供机遇。这是闯王“打电话”事件的来龙去脉,润涛阎给出的沙盘推演:他先给中国北边的俄罗斯联系,然后是中国东边的日本韩国、西边的巴基斯坦、南边的菲律宾,然后是台湾(跟蔡英文打电话不那么重要,重要的是他公开承认菜是“台湾总统”而非“中华民国总统”),就剩下中国最近的近邻金三胖了。在闯王还没竞选完之前就公开说他可以跟金三胖谈话的。如果你读过所有润涛阎的旧作就应该记得有这么一段:有一天美国国务卿突然出现在平壤,你对此不需要感到吃惊。诚然,美国突然斩首干掉金三胖的可能性也不低,这也是一选项。

中国一带一路的确是有可能成功的。中国在非洲几乎是在代替美国的地位,尤其是中国对中南美洲的经济渗透,会令美国人感到威胁。美国人固有的忧患意识与假想敌情结便必然高速发酵。非洲人抱怨美国:当初是美国人手里拿着圣经,我们拿着土地与资源。后来我们家家都有圣经了,而土地与资源到了美国商人手中,从此再也看不到美国商人手里拿着圣经了。而中国则不同,中国在搞大撒币,简称SB,到处撒钱,而不是送去非洲人认为的是给傻子洗脑后骗钱的圣经。然而,一带一路很可能被闯王堵死。靠什么?别忘了润涛阎的忠告:闯王是玩破产高手,他成功玩过四次,次次令投资人血本无归。美国有20万亿的国债,如果算上各级政府的债务,今天的总债务额是$66,881,022,888(此数字每秒钟都在增加),就是说一共近67万亿。闯王只能宣布美国联邦政府破产,联邦债务一笔勾销,那也是20万亿美元。闯王当然是上台后先稳住债市,说尽早还债,同时大量发行新债刺激经济,再借它5万亿。然后突然宣布破产。逮着谁算谁?那倒未必。外国的就活该了,美国公民的,尤其是个人的,就转成新贷。被坑的是中国、日本、沙特、科威特等国。如果不这么干一下子,仅债务利息,现在是每年5600亿左右,美国很快就会回到加息周期,债息哪怕到5% (记得2001年时是6%;而在我刚来美国的八十年代是15%),那每年的利息就是一万亿。美国根本还不起每年一万亿的利息,更别说闯王还要给个人减税、给企业大减税(从35%减到15%),还要修建公路桥梁铁路,还要增加战机军舰,还要发放新贷款呢,新贷款利息会更高。傻子都知道你家只有100块钱,你计划需要花200块,还欠银行的利息,这日子你怎么过?卖儿卖女?私人可以,国家怎么可能?早在奥巴马上台时润涛阎就预测美国会走到“对等贸易”一步,就是你在美国卖多少钱的货物就必须进口美国多少钱的货物,不需要什么谈判。一对一,好算账。但奥巴马惹不起美国财团,只能眼看着贸易逆差增大和债务攀升。闯王敢不敢招惹既得利益集团而毁掉全球化?估计很难。对他来说,最拿手的是宣布破产,外债一笔勾销。特直接,对他来说简直就是蒲元识水、家常便饭、看家本领、轻车熟路。

下面是西雅图先生演讲的英文原文。文章短小精悍,美不胜收。读起来的确是享受。看不懂英文的,就只好凑合着读我上面的译文。

"CHIEF SEATTLE'S 1854 ORATION"

AUTHENTIC TEXT OF CHIEF SEATTLE'S TREATY ORATION 1854

Yonder sky that has wept tears of compassion upon my people for centuries untold, and which to us appears changeless and eternal, may change. Today is fair. Tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like the stars that never change. Whatever Seattle says, the great chief at Washington can rely upon with as much certainty as he can upon the return of the sun or the seasons. The white chief says that Big Chief at Washington sends us greetings of friendship and goodwill. This is kind of him for we know he has little need of our friendship in return. His people are many. They are like the grass that covers vast prairies. My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain. The great, and I presume -- good, White Chief sends us word that he wishes to buy our land but is willing to allow us enough to live comfortably. This indeed appears just, even generous, for the Red Man no longer has rights that he need respect, and the offer may be wise, also, as we are no longer in need of an extensive country.

There was a time when our people covered the land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor, but that time long since passed away with the greatness of tribes that are now but a mournful memory. I will not dwell on, nor mourn over, our untimely decay, nor reproach my paleface brothers with hastening it, as we too may have been somewhat to blame.

Youth is impulsive. When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure their faces with black paint, it denotes that their hearts are black, and that they are often cruel and relentless, and our old men and old women are unable to restrain them. Thus it has ever been. Thus it was when the white man began to push our forefathers ever westward. But let us hope that the hostilities between us may never return. We would have everything to lose and nothing to gain. Revenge by young men is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and mothers who have sons to lose, know better.

Our good father in Washington--for I presume he is now our father as well as yours, since King George has moved his boundaries further north--our great and good father, I say, sends us word that if we do as he desires he will protect us. His brave warriors will be to us a bristling wall of strength, and his wonderful ships of war will fill our harbors, so that our ancient enemies far to the northward -- the Haidas and Tsimshians -- will cease to frighten our women, children, and old men. Then in reality he will be our father and we his children. But can that ever be? Your God is not our God! Your God loves your people and hates mine! He folds his strong protecting arms lovingly about the paleface and leads him by the hand as a father leads an infant son. But, He has forsaken His Red children, if they really are His. Our God, the Great Spirit, seems also to have forsaken us. Your God makes your people wax stronger every day. Soon they will fill all the land. Our people are ebbing away like a rapidly receding tide that will never return. The white man's God cannot love our people or He would protect them. They seem to be orphans who can look nowhere for help. How then can we be brothers? How can your God become our God and renew our prosperity and awaken in us dreams of returning greatness? If we have a common Heavenly Father He must be partial, for He came to His paleface children. We never saw Him. He gave you laws but had no word for His red children whose teeming multitudes once filled this vast continent as stars fill the firmament. No; we are two distinct races with separate origins and separate destinies. There is little in common between us.

To us the ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their resting place is hallowed ground. You wander far from the graves of your ancestors and seemingly without regret. Your religion was written upon tablets of stone by the iron finger of your God so that you could not forget. The Red Man could never comprehend or remember it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors -- the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn hours of the night by the Great Spirit; and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people.

Your dead cease to love you and the land of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb and wander away beyond the stars. They are soon forgotten and never return. Our dead never forget this beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its verdant valleys, its murmuring rivers, its magnificent mountains, sequestered vales and verdant lined lakes and bays, and ever yearn in tender fond affection over the lonely hearted living, and often return from the happy hunting ground to visit, guide, console, and comfort them.

Day and night cannot dwell together. The Red Man has ever fled the approach of the White Man, as the morning mist flees before the morning sun. However, your proposition seems fair and I think that my people will accept it and will retire to the reservation you offer them. Then we will dwell apart in peace, for the words of the Great White Chief seem to be the words of nature speaking to my people out of dense darkness.

It matters little where we pass the remnant of our days. They will not be many. The Indian's night promises to be dark. Not a single star of hope hovers above his horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Grim fate seems to be on the Red Man's trail, and wherever he will hear the approaching footsteps of his fell destroyer and prepare stolidly to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter.

A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of the descendants of the mighty hosts that once moved over this broad land or lived in happy homes, protected by the Great Spirit, will remain to mourn over the graves of a people once more powerful and hopeful than yours. But why should I mourn at the untimely fate of my people? Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of nature, and regret is useless. Your time of decay may be distant, but it will surely come, for even the White Man whose God walked and talked with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We will see.

We will ponder your proposition and when we decide we will let you know. But should we accept it, I here and now make this condition that we will not be denied the privilege without molestation of visiting at any time the tombs of our ancestors, friends, and children. Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land. The White Man will never be alone.

Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds.

 

(Appeared in the Seattle Sunday Star on Oct. 29, 1887, in a column by Dr. Henry A. Smith.)

注:美国华盛顿州最大的城市西雅图的名字就是以本文作者命名的。