Dissident Chinese Writer Flees to Germany - Liao Yiwu (NYT)

Dissident Chinese Writer Flees to Germany
By ANDREW JACOBS
The New York Times, July 12, 2011

BEIJING — After being denied an exit visa 17 times, yanked off planes and trains by the police and threatened with yet more prison time, one of China’s most persecuted writers, Liao Yiwu, slipped across the border into Vietnam last week and then made his way, via Poland, to Germany, where he promptly declared himself an exile.

“I’m ecstatic, I’m finally free,” he said in a telephone interview from Berlin on Monday morning before plunging into a day of interviews and photo shoots. “I feel like I’m walking through a dream.”

Of course, his escape — arranged by friends whom he declined to name — has not brought unadulterated joy. By fleeing his homeland, Mr. Liao, 52, made the difficult decision to abandon the wellspring of his work, much of it journalistic explorations of China’s downtrodden: the political outcasts, impoverished farmers, death row inmates and others who have been traumatized by famine and Communist-inspired zealotry, then cast aside during the nation’s manic embrace of material wealth and collective amnesia.

He also leaves behind his family in southwestern Sichuan Province, including his mother, his son, two siblings and a girlfriend. “I’m trying to convince myself that I won’t be away from China very long, that things will change sooner than later,” he said.

In the West, Mr. Liao is best known for “The Corpse Walker: Real-Life Stories, China from the Bottom Up,” which was banned in China soon after it was published in Taiwan in 2001. The book, a collection of interviews with people he encountered in prison and during wanderings in the southwest, tells the unadorned stories of 27 people, among them a public toilet attendant, a persecuted landlord, and the men, known as corpse walkers, whose job it is to transport the dead back to their hometowns for burial.

After it was published, his already strained relationship with the authorities worsened. He was barred from traveling to literary festivals in Germany, Australia and the United States, and was forced last spring to sign a vow to cease publishing outside China. Breaking the pledge, he was warned cryptically, would bring even greater torment.

Given the predicament of his friend Liu Xiaobo, the Nobel Peace Prize winner and writer who is serving an 11-year sentence for subversion, Mr. Liao knew what might await him. The threat gained greater urgency with the impending publication in the United States of “God Is Red,” a book by Mr. Liao about Chinese Christians, and a memoir about his time in jail, “The Witness of the 4th of June.” The memoir, whose title refers to the military suppression of the Tiananmen Square protests in 1989, has been delayed several times by skittish publishers in Germany and Taiwan.

His most recent travails are part of a wholesale stifling of creative expression and dissent by the ruling Communist Party. Rattled by turmoil in the Arab world, the government began cracking down on scores of activists and rights lawyers in February. The most prominent victim has been Ai Weiwei, the caustic artist and social critic.

“I think Liao Yiwu’s decision to leave really reflects the extreme unease that writers in China are facing right now,” said Larry Siems, the director of international programs at the PEN American Center, an advocacy group. “It’s a shame, because he is one of China’s most interesting writers, and he has his eyes on some of the great human dramas that accompany China’s emergence as an economic power. China should be unleashing the imagination of its writers instead of trying to restrain and control them.”

The Chinese government has yet to respond to news of his escape. The public security bureau in his hometown would not discuss his case; calls and e-mails to the Chinese Embassy in Berlin were not returned.

Like many of his generation, Mr. Liao has endured a numbing cascade of hardships. He nearly starved to death as an infant during Mao’s disastrous Great Leap Forward, when famine killed more than 20 million people. When he was a child, he and his classmates were forced out of school by the Cultural Revolution, the decade in which education was maligned as a bourgeois indulgence. Much of what he learned came from his father, a teacher of Chinese literature, and his mother, a music instructor.

“As a boy, my dad would make me stand high up on a table and not allow me to come down until I finished reciting the classics,” he said.

As early as 1987, he drew the ire of cultural bureaucrats for poetry, printed in official journals, that was condemned as too pessimistic and anti-establishment. After the Tiananmen crackdown, he experienced the stinging limits on free expression. Inspired by Allen Ginsberg and by Dante’s “Inferno,” he and five friends circulated poems recited on video that lamented the bloodshed in Beijing. Mr. Liao called the piece “Massacre.”

Not long afterward, in 1990, he and the others were jailed as “counterrevolutionaries.” His four years of confinement were characterized by torture and the terror of watching 20 inmates be dragged out for execution. Twice, he said, he tried to kill himself.

But it was in jail that Mr. Liao met many of the characters who would fill “The Corpse Walker.” It was also where he learned to play the xiao, an ancient flutelike instrument that sustained him as a street musician during long bouts of joblessness after his release. Those were bitter years, he said, when friends and even his wife found him politically radioactive.

“I never imagined they would distance themselves from me as if I were the plague,” he said. “From this, I concluded that people’s memories can be easily erased.”

Since then, Mr. Liao has devoted himself to collecting the memories of people on the margins of society. For “God Is Red,” he sought out Christians in rural Sichuan and Yunnan Provinces who had endured years of official persecution.

Mickey Maudlin, the executive editor of HarperOne, described it as refreshingly devoid of polemics. “Liao isn’t trying to score ideological points,” Mr. Maudlin said by phone from San Francisco. “He’s just trying to describe how people survived in an environment that is not very friendly.”

Mr. Liao said that since he reached Germany, he has been too overwhelmed and excited to eat or sleep much. Having arrived with no money, he is relying on the generosity of friends, his German publisher and, he hopes, royalties from his forthcoming books. He speaks neither German nor English, and said he was unsure whether to plunge into learning a new language.

“Germany, the U.S. and Australia have all welcomed me,” he said. “But the place I really want to be is China.”

Li Bibo contributed research.

Dissidents against Chinese favorite for Nobel peace prize

Unusual Opposition to a Favorite for Nobel
By ANDREW JACOBS and JONATHAN ANSFIELD
The New York Times, October 6, 2010

BEIJING — With just a day until the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded, the usual whirl of speculation over the winner is in full force, with many human rights advocates contending that an imprisoned Chinese dissident, Liu Xiaobo, has emerged as the favorite.

If selected, Mr. Liu, a former literature professor who has spent the last 20 years cycling in and out of Chinese jails for championing democratic reform, would be the first Chinese citizen to win the prize. The prospect has clearly alarmed Beijing, so much so that the Nobel Institute’s director said last week that a senior Chinese official had warned him such a decision would “pull the wrong strings in relations between Norway and China.”

But the idea of selecting Mr. Liu has also stirred objections from a somewhat more surprising contingent: a group of fellow activists.

In recent days, a group of 14 overseas Chinese dissidents, many of them hard-boiled exiles dedicated to overthrowing the Communist Party, have been calling on the Nobel committee to deny the prize to Mr. Liu, whom they say would make an “unsuitable” laureate.

In a letter, the signatories accused Mr. Liu, below, of maligning fellow activists, abandoning persecuted members of the Falun Gong spiritual movement and going soft on China’s leaders.

“His open praise in the last 20 years for the Chinese Communist Party, which has never stopped trampling on human rights, has been extremely misleading and influential,” they wrote.

Among the signers were Zhang Guoting, a writer now living in Denmark who spent 22 years in Chinese prison, Bian Hexiang, who describes himself as a New York-based member of the Central Committee of the Chinese Social Democratic Party, and Lu Decheng, who was jailed for throwing paint-filled eggs at the Mao portrait on Tiananmen Square and now lives in Canada.

The letter and calls from other detractors have infuriated many rights advocates, inside and outside of China, who say the attack distorts Mr. Liu’s record as a longtime proponent of peaceful change.

Supporters, among them Vaclav Havel, the former Czech president and dissident, say that Mr. Liu has been a pragmatic advocate since 1989, when he helped persuade the students occupying Tiananmen Square to leave just as army tanks were preparing to move in.

More recently, Mr. Liu was given an 11-year prison sentence last Christmas for his role in shaping a manifesto, known as Charter ’08, that called for popular elections and an end to the Communist Party’s unchallenged grip on power.

“Liu Xiaobo has always worked to advance the peaceful democratic transformation of Chinese society, and to avoid the violence, rebellion and bloodshed of the past,” said Zhang Zuhua, a former high-ranking official in the Communist Party Youth League and a chief force behind Charter ’08.

Cui Weiping, a social critic and professor at the Beijing Film Academy, called some of Mr. Liu’s more radical opponents “highly irresponsible.”

“Just the fact that he was sentenced to 11 years in prison is enough to answer those who question how critical he is of the government,” said Ms. Cui, one of 10,000 Chinese who signed Charter ’08 before government censors effectively pulled it from the Internet.

Whatever the merits of the anti-Liu Xiaobo camp, their very public sentiments provide a window into the state of the overseas Chinese dissidents, a fractured group beset by squabbling and competing claims of anti-authoritarian righteousness.

Many of its prominent members fled to the United States and Europe after the failed democracy campaign of 1989 and have tried, with limited success, to build a broad-based movement against the Chinese government.

Even if they have differences over strategy, many intellectuals and activists inside China describe Mr. Liu as a dynamic thinker who appealed both to members of the party and many of its die-hard opponents.

Bao Pu, a Chinese book publisher whose father spent seven years in prison for supporting negotiations with protesters as a top associate to the Communist Party chief, Zhao Ziyang, said the lack of unity among dissidents living outside China was dispiriting.

“All exile movements are fractured, but the community has reduced themselves into oblivion,” said Mr. Bao, who lives in Hong Kong. “We have a long way to go.”

Mr. Liu’s critics are unbowed by suggestions that their campaign against him may play into the Chinese government’s efforts to discredit his qualifications as a Nobel laureate.

Yi Xu, a linguistics professor in London who translated the anti-Liu letter into English, said he had no reservations about the effort to deny Mr. Liu the award.

“I don’t believe the Nobel Prize is so important that once we have one, China will be entirely changed,” Mr. Yi said. “Look, the Dalai Lama won and China didn’t change.”