The Wounded Heart of China

You’re familiar, I’m sure, with those times when you’re suffering inside: You know you need to stop, go inwards, check yourself out and be present with whatever’s happening – but instead you almost brutally pursue whatever practical tasks are uppermost, as if you could seal up the pain and never have to touch it, or as if it was simply less real than your everyday practical tasks and goals.

Now imagine a whole country which operates on that basis, and you have something like modern China. People have to deal with a level of competitive pressure unimaginable in the West, and are offered as role models characters such as Lei Feng (left: a Maoist icon of self-sacrifice refurbished in recent years). Self-sacrifice isn’t really the correct term: it’s as if there was never a self to sacrifice in the first place – identity is still largely mediated through collective symbols and activities, certainly throughout formal education.

So the self that starts to emerge in the pursuit of material success which characterizes today’s China is a raw, unformed self which doesn’t really know how to speak of its interiority, of its pains and frustrations – which generally wishes them away or if it expresses them at all, does so in the most spasmodic and unconscious way. Such, for example, are the recent terrifying and near inexplicable attacks on children (which Marcus Anthony has written about in a very illuminating post: http://22cplus.blogspot.com/2010/05/killing-bliss-in-china.html).

And of course China’s wounds themselves are both individual and collective: not only is it much harder for a Chinese person than for a Westerner suffering from inner anguish to find any useful way of addressing it or external support in doing so, but the immense suffering inflicted by the Cultural Revolution and more recently by the Tiananmen Square events has been explored, if at all, only on a superficial and factual level. The tools to deal with such experiences are not generally available in China and in any case their use would threaten the Party’s monopoly of historical interpretation – as official ideology doesn’t distinguish between experience and interpretation, any individual testimony which appears to contradict the officially sanctioned account of events is instantly ruled inadmissible.

There is a way out of this crazy-driving impasse, as I wrote in my previous post; and I was interested to read that the managers of the giant Foxconn company which assembles iPhones and iPads in Shenzhen has actually called in monks from Wutaishan to help deal with a spate of suicides by employees. It may or may not be relevant that Foxconn is a Taiwanese company.

A turning towards spiritual practice is a notable feature of modern China, but it’s a matter of concern that the public debate about this is so impoverished. No serious discussion of anything resembling “superstition” is possible in the mainland media, while all but the oldest generations have been brought up without any kind of appropriate conceptual framework.

Unless the Party is willing to start progressively loosening its control of public discourse and interpretation, these individual expressions of intolerable anguish can only become more frequent, eventually coalescing into collective outbreaks which will become harder and harder to explain away.