加拿大人 在中国大学看中国
《山东院长：一位中国大学小官僚的自白》
作者：丹尼尔·A·贝淡宁（Daniel A. Bell） 2023年3月28日
中国学术圈内部视角及其对中国政治体制的揭示
2017年1月1日，丹尼尔·贝淡宁被任命为山东大学政治与公共管理学院院长，这是中国大陆历史上第一位担任政治学院院长的外籍院长。在《山东院长》一书中，贝淡宁记录了他作为“小官僚”的经历，深入剖析了中国学术圈的运作方式及其对中国政治体制的揭示。他的学术生涯并非一帆风顺——贝淡宁不无讽刺地讲述了一些偶尔出现的失误和误解——但贝淡宁作为学院院长的职位，为观察当今中国提供了一个独特的视角。
贝淡宁既不是中国公民，也不是中国共产党员，他因在儒家思想方面的研究而被任命为院长——但他很快发现自己要应对一系列与学术或孔子无关的问题。这些问题包括头发颜色的重要性以及大学管理人员（无论男女）染发的盛行；山东的饮酒文化（每次聚餐时都会无休止地举杯敬酒）；以及激烈的学术精英管理制度带来的一些意想不到的后果。作为院长，他还面临着更重要的问题：党委书记在大学中的角色、全国反腐运动及其对学术界的影响（贝淡宁曾颇具挑衅性地问道：“腐败有什么问题？”），以及正式和非正式的审查制度。考虑到过去三十年来儒家思想在中国的复兴以及他所说的2008年以来的“共产主义回归”，贝淡宁预测，中国的政治未来很可能由儒家思想和共产主义共同决定。
Reviews
《山东院长：一位中国大学小官僚的自白》，作者：丹尼尔·A·贝尔
作者：萨拉莉·特纳 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/
萨拉莉·特纳（Saralee Turner，硕士）是新加坡公民，曾在西安大略大学获得社会学家学位。特纳在多伦多出生长大，成年后大部分时间在亚洲度过，退休前曾在新加坡的多家图书馆工作。
丹尼尔·A·贝尔于1964年出生于蒙特利尔一个工人阶级家庭，在麦吉尔大学接受教育，之后在牛津大学获得政治理论博士学位。他是一位加拿大籍儒家学者，过去20年一直生活在中国，并在过去的五年里担任山东大学政治与公共管理学院院长。中国山东省现所在地是孔子的诞生地。在我看来，贝淡宁的写作风格既俏皮又严肃。本书共11章，每个章节的标题都很奇特，例如《批判可爱》和《畅饮无度》。这本书由贝淡宁在山东生活的短篇故事组成，读起来令人愉悦。它为读者提供了西方媒体无法触及的国家/文明生活的第一手资料。书中对大学高层集体领导制约决策的描述颇具启发性。集体能够对任命和晋升事宜保持绝对坦诚，同时又能避免那些未能进入这两条道路的人遭受羞辱，这一点令人深思。书中无需明确地向“所有人”说明“一切”。另一个备受关注的话题是师生关系。书中展现的亲切和真诚比大学里常见的要多得多。有一次，贝教授被他的一名学生指责态度恶劣，后来这名学生道歉，声称自己当时喝醉了，斥责贝教授对“失望”的自私态度。贝教授忠于自己对儒家思想的研究和理解，并提供了自我批评的例子，读到一位成就卓著的学者的文字，令人耳目一新。
贝教授开篇就表明了他写这本书的目的，即消除对中国的妖魔化。他耐心而幽默地解释了中国的政治体制是如何运作的，以及他如何在五年的院长任期内“跌跌撞撞”地犯下每个人在陌生领域都会犯的错误。此外，本书还可以概述儒家思想史，并了解中华民族作为一种文明，而不仅仅是一个民族国家或一个政治实体。
鉴于贝尔所宣称的写作目的，有必要审视“妖魔化”的概念。在如今仇恨言论猖獗的时代，这种概念已屡见不鲜。
妖魔化是指将某人或某物歪曲为完全邪恶、卑鄙、恶魔般的存在。这是一个令人不快的话题，因为显而易见的是，这一过程，加上潜在的种族主义、精英主义、民族中心主义、宗教偏见以及我们人类将自身置于同胞之上的诸多方式，正在迅速蔓延。
如今，对于那些想要涉足这种令人厌恶的艺术的人来说，将国家、文明和族群妖魔化似乎轻而易举。首先，必须阻止任何可能指向被妖魔化者积极特质的内容发表。其次，当然需要一个扩音器，而大众媒体在现代社会中提供了这样的扩音器。记者必须参与其中，编辑必须像指挥家一样，精心策划“专家”意见，迅速从可能的恶行转变为确定此类暴行确实发生。最终，那些在没有可靠证据的情况下发表惊人言论的人必须被相信。
我在一个严格的新教原教旨主义宗教环境中长大，很快就染上了一些关于谁会上天堂、谁会下地狱的严重误导性观念。小时候，我第一次感到羞耻，就是在一个男女混合的聚会中，我毫无顾忌地谈论被灌输的“事实”。那些灌输这些带有评判性观念的成年人感到尴尬，试图让我闭嘴，让我感到不舒服，并为自己无法辨认的罪行感到内疚。这就是我学到的第一课。一个人可以带着偏见，说出不真实或至少高度可疑的“事实”，但必须谨慎行事。
后来我读到冷战期间俄罗斯人被妖魔化的文章，当时我被鼓励去认为俄罗斯和苏联社会是由邪恶的，或者充其量是由一群可悲的、被误导的人组成的，他们相信报纸上的内容。回过头来看，有趣的是，与此同时，我被鼓励去
千万别相信加拿大报纸上的文章。
贝尔教授在“2021年布雷斯特地缘政治”大会上发表主题演讲，探讨了“西方为何妖魔化中国”这一问题。他理性地分析了西方如何看待中国、对中国的期望、西方如何看待中国政府和社会，以及对许多西方人来说，民主只有在“一人一票”制度下才有可能。
妖魔化中国的一个例子是，有人认为，中国在1月23日之后允许飞机飞往西方的几个城市（伦敦、纽约、旧金山、巴黎和罗马），从而将新冠病毒从武汉传播到了这些城市（伦敦、纽约、旧金山、巴黎和罗马）。这项指控可能出自某位不谙世事的记者之手，但事实上，它出自一位训练有素、备受尊敬的历史学家、拥有牛津大学博士学位的尼尔·弗格森教授之手。丹尼尔·贝尔随后进行了广泛的研究，以查明2020年1月23日之后从武汉起飞的航班及其目的地。结果证明，这项针对中国的指控毫无根据。贝尔最初于2020年4月21日发表的博客对此进行了详尽的报道，我在此引用它，是为了指出，当此类指控出自一位备受推崇的学者之手时，其可信度是毋庸置疑的。据我所知，弗格森教授没有撤回其文章，也没有为犯下如此严重的“错误”道歉。事实上，弗格森教授认为贝尔教授欠他一个道歉。
这就是妖魔化的本质。人们普遍认为，被妖魔化的个人或群体必须拿出反面证据，证明自己并非妖魔，即使证据是虚构的或错误呈现的，被妖魔化者也有责任纠正错误的印象，而且在很多情况下，媒体本身并没有提供足够的支持。
每个社会都有心怀不满的人，他们会对政府的所作所为进行负面解读，并能说服那些不了解这个社会的人对政策和程序提出严厉批评。每个社会都有侵犯人权和司法不公的例子。是的，即使是加拿大也有。我想起多伦多刑事律师爱德华·格林斯潘的一本书。书中让我印象深刻的是，在五六十年代，一名美国人在魁北克狩猎时被枪杀，之后一名男子被抓获。由于在错误的时间出现在错误的地点，并且没有足够的法律辩护，一个无辜的人被处决了。当时的舆论是，加拿大不愿失去宝贵的“狩猎旅游”，需要迅速解决此事，让美国公众满意。
每个社会都有异见人士。想象一下，这些异见人士拿着扩音器，在世界各地大肆宣传，媒体也从他们的视角放大他们关于某个国家的一切评论。瞧！妖魔化就来了！把这种妖魔化倾泻到早已存在的针对“他者”的偏见沃土上，就会引发对某个群体或某个国家的仇恨爆发。
异见人士或那些对被妖魔化的个人/群体持有非常负面看法的人的观点，常常被认定为事实，尽管很多时候没有任何可信的证据。
亚洲杰出的汉学家王赓武教授，MBE，九十多岁，可以不用笔记，连续讲授一个小时，解释亚洲是如何发展到今天这个样子的，他最近表示，“谎言重复多次”就会变成真理。这才是事情可怕的地方。
我对这本书的主要保留意见在于其既定目标。贝尔教授希望，一位在麦吉尔大学和牛津大学接受过教育、熟悉当地情况的学者，能够理性地呈现事实和历史，足以让那些眼中只有魔鬼而不是中国人的人幡然悔悟，但我对此表示怀疑。
我强烈推荐这本书给所有想要了解环游世界、在一个与丹尼尔·贝尔教授出生和成长的加拿大截然不同的国家担任高级教职的人。或许贝尔教授能够成功，我赞赏他在这方面的努力，但要克服多年的虚假信息以及至少两个世纪的种族主义，这并非易事。
看到许多加拿大人对亚裔的仇恨和带有偏见的报道，令人震惊。在没有可靠证据的情况下，指控就变成了判决。我成长的加拿大更加开放和公平。我不禁想问，那个加拿大现在变成了什么样？我怀疑那些毫无根据地制造泄密和怀疑的情报机构和人员无济于事。如今真正的情报已经很少见。令人震惊的是，毫无证据的匿名情报报告竟然被当作事实来迫害民众。这难道是一个基于规则的秩序吗？规则在哪里？更重要的是，秩序又在哪里？
局内人视角下的中国外部现实：评丹尼尔·贝尔的《山东院长》
保罗·J·丹布罗西奥 (Paul J. D’Ambrosio) 评论丹尼尔·贝尔的《山东院长：一位中国大学小官僚的自白》。
保罗·J·丹布罗西奥 2023年9月19日
https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/an-insiders-look-at-chinas-outside-reality-on-daniel-bells-the-dean-of-shandong/
保罗·J·丹布罗西奥（Paul J. D'Ambrosio）是中国上海华东师范大学的中国哲学教授，同时兼任该校跨文化研究中心主任。他主要从事道教、中古中国思想、当代基于个人形象的身份认同以及人类与人工智能/算法的关系等研究。
《山东院长：一位中国大学小官僚的自白》，丹尼尔·A·贝尔著。普林斯顿大学出版社，2023年。208页。
近年来，中美关系持续恶化。虽然相互批评的重点往往集中在政治体制、领土边界和人权等大问题上，但我们应该采取更细致的视角，将细微之处也纳入考量。有时，当我们注意到彼此细微的相似之处，并欣赏一些更平凡的问题时，巨大的差异就能得到有意义的探讨，甚至化解。丹尼尔·贝尔的新书《山东院长：一位中国大学小官僚的自白》正是其中的亮点。这本书的主要优势在于，它生动地展现了中国社会一些更宏大、更难以理解的方面，同时也探讨了在中国大学体系中作为一名“小官僚”的意义。
丹尼尔·贝尔曾担任山东大学政治与公共管理学院院长五年。他出生于加拿大，几乎整个职业生涯都在亚洲度过：新加坡、香港、中国大陆，现在又回到了香港。除了拥有独特的专业背景外，贝尔还是一位著名的公共知识分子。多年来，他一直为大众新闻媒体撰稿，旨在提供关于中国的建设性视角，同时撰写必要的学术论文和书籍，这些都为他赢得了政治哲学家的尊贵学术声誉。
《山东院长》巧妙地将贝淡宁对中国思想、政治制度和日常生活的深刻理解，以一种极其通俗易懂的风格交织在一起。虽然他出色地探讨了中国一些较为日常的方面，但我们或许会怀疑，在他诙谐幽默的笔触中，是否也丢失了我们思考这些问题时应有的严肃性。
贝淡宁这本书的开篇便是他的第一个告白，也是他随后众多告白中的一次：他承认自己多年来一直染黑头发。你可能会觉得，以这样的方式开篇似乎有些愚蠢，因为这本书应该探讨的是更严肃的问题。然而，在中国，染发是一件严肃的事情。政客们染黑头发既不是为了吸引人，也不是为了显得更年轻。正如贝淡宁所解释的，几乎所有中国官员（包括教授）都会染发，这种习俗已经延续了近两千年。黑发象征着活力和健康；它表明一个人有能力继续努力工作，服务人民。以至于当官员不再染发，白发显眼时，可能意味着他们要求停止公职，或在受到刑事指控时请求宽恕。
贝淡宁在此展现了中国文化中两个相当重要的方面，而这两个方面往往被生活在非亚洲社会的人所低估：外表很重要，而且，正如这里的许多事情一样，外表在社会背景下而非个人的背景下很重要。保持一定的外表，或者更常见的说法是“面子”，对于维护社会结构至关重要。一个运转良好的社会，既需要优雅的外表，也需要强大的内心。回到我们最初的例子，白发官员可能看起来苍老疲惫，所以他们把头发染成黑色，以此向别人保证自己能够胜任工作。这种做法与个人虚荣无关，而完全是维系社会整体的粘合剂。
很好地理解这个问题有助于解释中国许多令人困惑的做法，例如审查制度。正如贝淡宁所说，在教学方面，其实几乎没有什么不能说的。与美国几乎没有可比性。我在美国教书时，总是如履薄冰；我常常甚至不知道最新的敏感话题是什么，更不用说该如何评论了。相比之下，在我的中文课堂上，我想说什么就说什么。然而，我们在中国确实能看到大量审查制度的地方，是在媒体和政治出版物中。贝淡宁概述了这些问题，并毫不掩饰地批评了国家对新闻、网络博客等的影响力。
在中国出版政治书籍方面，贝淡宁比大多数人经验丰富，他的说法也常常令人意外。他本人作品在中国的审查，往往与他提出的修改某些政府部门或政策名称的建议有关。例如，贝淡宁建议将官方翻译为“宣传部”。
英文中称为“宣传部”（Propaganda Department，最近已更名为“公关部”）的部门，可以被称为“传播部”或“公众参与部”。这类提议几乎全部被中国政府审查。这或许看起来有些奇怪，毕竟，它们出自一位本意良好的母语人士之口。然而，当我们回想起染发这件事时，我们就能梳理出一条清晰的思路。外貌很重要，而外貌最重要的是维系社会团结。如果一个政府连自己部门的名称都不能恰当地命名，又如何管理好它们呢？
另一个例子是应对气候变化。与其他紧迫问题（包括人权问题或南海领土主张）一样，外貌及其对社会稳定的影响是核心思维过程的重要组成部分。中国共产党不能被视为轻易屈服于外国势力，甚至听从其建议。这样做意味着“丢脸”。因此，尽管西方政客可能以（表面上的）合作为荣，认为这表明他们已经摆脱了纯粹（自私的）民族主义意图，但中国的做法却截然不同。习近平宣称中国将制定自己的计划，不允许其他国家强加甚至建议其措施，以此来维护其政治合法性。无论中国走自己的路究竟意味着什么，也无论会有多少外国影响，中国以中国方式处理自身事务的形象仍然至关重要。这就像政府的黑发一样。
贝淡宁深入探讨了中国学术界的核心问题，在肯定形象重要性的同时，也提出了尖锐的批评。例如，他描述了每个院系都设有“党委书记”的角色。此人直接代表中国共产党，在某些问题上拥有比院长更大的权力。事实上，他们的影响力如此之大，以至于每五年就必须调动一次院系，以避免偏袒。贝淡宁生动地描绘了这些人的所作所为，但对他们的一些意识形态职责却颇为严厉。
在本书的其他部分，他还探讨了中国大学如何与中国政府的大部分机构一样，在很多层面上都相当民主。与一些人的认知相反，中国存在着大量有意义的投票——而且与许多西方国家相比，这种投票更多地基于择优录取。然而，在中国，投票并不总是具有约束力。在决定聘用或任命院长时，系里所有教授都会投票，但实际上只有少数高层教授做出决定。投票结果会被纳入考虑，并且通常会被采纳，但并非总是如此，也并非必然如此。
作为一名在上海任职的中国大学院长，我对《山东院长》有两点批评。首先，贝淡宁的书中从未提及中国复杂的“报销”制度，这种制度在大学尤为突出，但在各行各业都能找到。在中国，报销程序极其官僚，让人感觉怪异，甚至像奥威尔式的“奥威尔式”故事，常常令人感到极度困惑和沮丧。例如，用于撰写一系列学术论文或翻译一本书的研究经费，会被列为需要报销的款项。为了获得这笔经费，申请人需要提供各种收据——有的真，有的假——从出租车费、机票费到办公用品费和会议费，不一而足。这个制度显然存在问题，因为我翻译一本书所花的几个月时间，与我用来领取经费的四台笔记本电脑和十本爱因斯坦传记的收据之间，并没有明确的关联。关于这个制度，有很多值得探讨的地方，如果是贝淡宁，他本可以就此展开一场富有洞察力且引人入胜的讨论。
一个更严肃的批评是，贝淡宁在他的书中忽略了中国的阴暗面。当他谈到辛勤工作的党委书记、精心安排的晚宴和饮酒仪式时，他关注的是他们如何高效运作，人们如何认同自己的角色并乐于履行职责。这些都是儒家思想中基于阳的一面。但也有更阴暗的一面，即“道家”思想中基于阴的一面（当然，腐败的“阴暗面”也算在内）。这种阴暗面往往不被重视，尽管如果没有它，儒家的阳的一面就不可能存在。例如，大多数党委书记都梦想获得更好的学术声誉——许多人拥有哲学博士学位——而且几乎所有人都希望在政府中晋升（几乎所有官员都是从担任这些职位开始的，并逐步晋升）。对于那些未能实现这些愿望的人来说，党委书记的工作通常并不令人满意；他们既无法从事自己的学术研究，也无法获得比基层官员更高的晋升。与其感到自己是儒家思想的失败者，不如转而投向
纵观中国历史，无数人将这种文化与道家思想联系起来，道家思想对于那些未能满足各种社会期望的人来说，一直是宝贵的资源。
在关于“可爱”的章节中，贝淡宁描述了即使在高层官员之间最严肃的交流中，人们也会使用有趣的表情符号。它们可以表达礼貌或尊重，并有助于缓和紧张的讨论。贝淡宁推测，在儒家社会中，人们承受着各种各样的社会压力，“可爱文化……在使具有社会价值的生活方式的替代途径合法化方面发挥着重要作用”。这在今天无疑是正确的，但尽管“可爱”可能是一种新近流行的权宜之计，但道家思想早已扮演着这一角色，而且相对而言更为深刻。在儒家社会中，道家思想不仅为人们提供了获得合法性的新途径，也为寻求社会合法性本身提供了替代方案。贝淡宁过于关注儒家光明的一面，包括其“可爱”的一面，而往往忽略了道家阴暗的一面，或许还低估了其重要性。讽刺的是，《山东院长》本身就带有道家色彩。
二十多年前，贝淡宁怀揣着成为一名中国政治家的梦想来到中国。如今梦想成真，他却反思自己并非真正胜任这项任务。贝淡宁声称，副院长做了大部分工作，而他自己更像是一个“象征性”人物。但一位“上海院长”却不敢苟同。虽然贝淡宁可能认为自己的角色更像是一种新鲜玩意儿，而非真正的领导职位，但我怀疑他周围的人可能并不这么认为。外国人在中国经常扮演“可爱”或象征性的角色，但这并不妨碍他们拥有真正的意义。正如中国最高层政治人物之间的沟通中会使用可爱的表情符号，而外貌在治理中也至关重要一样，一位象征性院长的作为可能远超乎他的想象。事实上，贝淡宁在其最后一章中，为象征性领导力提供了一个令人信服的论据。但他似乎并未意识到自身在这方面的功绩。
与贝淡宁的其他著作，包括《中国模式：政治贤能政治与民主的局限》（2015）和《公正等级：社会等级为何在中国及世界其他地区重要》（与王培合著，2020）相比，他在《山东院长》中的贡献或许显得有些漫不经心。书中有些章节聚焦于看似无关紧要的话题，例如染发和“可爱”的形象，并通过一系列个人轶事来讲述。然而，这本书的最终目的是探讨如何通过欣赏外貌的作用，让我们更好地理解一个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.
