上海之行随想——《俄罗斯侧影》社评

       作者：安德烈·佐拉托夫[1][1]   译者：俄罗斯研究中心助理李大伟  

       “种子自己会发芽，但若要满园花开还得精心培育。”这句话摘自中国日报的一篇社论，你不要以为它是一幅意境深远的中国画的题铭，而是来自一篇被冠以“友谊之花盛开”的文章。该文缘于上周俄罗斯总理弗拉德科夫访问北京，他是来落实一项促进两国友谊的重大举措，即在中国举办俄罗斯年。就像两国领导人说的，中俄两国关系正处于历史上的最好时期。

       作为俄罗斯利益在中国增长的标志，涉及到俄罗斯方面的两个重要的商贸会议，几乎同时在上海举行。我首次到华即在上海作短暂停留，这可与弗拉德科夫总理访华无关，倒与在俄罗斯举办中国年有点关系。我应华东师范大学国际关系与地区发展研究院俄罗斯研究中心冯绍雷教授之邀，参加首届欧亚论坛暨全国斯拉夫研究中青年学者会议。自《俄罗斯侧影》杂志新增中国问题研究部分以来，我有意向研究俄罗斯问题的中国学者获取一些反馈信息。当然，只在某个城市待上四天就对中国作个整体的评论，难免会出错。但即便如此，我仍有许多可说的，如今的上海可不想被那些曾经充斥在这里的外来文化所同化。在英语中，“上海”被用作动词时，其意思是使用暴力或技巧去赢得或吸引某人。例如，把海员灌醉或让他们吸毒来拢住他们；在俄语中，“上海”几乎是贫民窟的同义词，因为这里的房屋没有任何规划，全由居民自己建造，混乱、无序、拥挤不堪。而现在的上海让人感觉既安全又亲近，虽然它规模庞大，在市区里至少居住着1500万人，如果算上城郊的很可能还不止这个数字。虽然我是个老外，而且除了“谢谢”一句汉语也不会说，但是深夜我独自一人在市里闲逛时却没有一丁点的害怕。只有一件事让我不愉快，就是在市中心的旅游区，一个形单影只的外国游客，总是不断受到一些不三不四的人骚扰，例如提供按摩服务的、拉人去酒吧玩的，诸如此类。为数极少的拥挤的建筑也正在被推倒，代之以虽算不上设计优美、现代倒也算体面的住房。挺让我惭愧的一件事发生在我去参观上海博物馆和有着四百年历史的豫园这两个最大的旅游景点时。由于我对中国艺术没有研究，只是见过它作装饰元素出现在欧式布景中。我在莫斯科特列季雅科夫陈列馆参观时，许多外国游客只是评价俄国艺术很“酷”，这让我很烦恼。某种程度上，我感觉自己和这些毫无头绪的游客没什么两样。

       上海这座城市给我印象最深的就是它充满活力和呈现出强烈的求知欲。由于我住在华东师大校园内，到了晚上九点钟，我发现教室里仍坐满了学生。我的中国同行告诉我，学者在中国享有很高的社会声誉，比起拥有极高社会地位的政府官员也毫不逊色。不过我先后问过两位研究生，得知在上海一个中等收入的年轻学者差不多每月能有600美元到800美元的工资，这与五、六年前莫斯科的水平相当，然而他们都愿意通过公务员考试进入政府部门工作。

       来自全国的大约80名俄国问题专家参加了此次会议，他们中的大部分都曾去原苏联或俄罗斯留过学，也都有俄文名字。有一位叫杨明明的教师，刚从圣彼德堡市的一所大学访学回来，现在在华东师范大学教授俄文和俄罗斯文学。她对我说她母亲去了哈尔滨，在一所由俄国移民建立的幼儿园里，俄语说得也很好。

       会议首先请三位来客作总的发言。第一个发言的是日本北海道大学斯拉夫研究中心主任松里公孝教授，他对穆斯林在俄罗斯的问题做了一个论据充分，多视角的阐述。接下来是我发言，我主要就俄罗斯媒体谈了一些看法。最后是杨成，他是前驻莫斯科的外交官，就俄罗斯的经济发展作了一个非常乐观的评述。然后，与会人员被分到三个小组：政治外交组、经济组和社会历史文化组。

       我参加了文化部分的讨论，讨论的水准给我印象极深。内容包括米哈伊尔·巴赫金与俄罗斯的民族主义、斯大林的观点在中国和俄罗斯的影响、哲学家亚历山大·季诺维耶夫的遗产、新亚欧主义思想家与活动家亚历山大·杜金和苏联对犹政策的演变。其中一个发言者提到中国社会更愿意接受西方学者对俄罗斯的评价和观点而不愿意相信自己的专家。“西方非常重视对俄的研究，而我们自己往往漫不经心，”那位学者说，“在我们这，研究俄罗斯文学比研究俄罗斯社会问题要火。”

       此外，中国学者的一些看法也极有见地和富于挑战。例如，我听到历史学者张建华一个说法，这是我所知道的对后苏联时代俄罗斯现状最大胆的规定。“俄罗斯人排斥马克思主义而接受后现代主义。”他随口说到。似乎是要把一些酝酿已久的事情提出来。在与研究俄国内问题的中国学者交谈中，我有这样一种印象：这个好打听的团体对他们研究的领域或课题饱含感情，不像他们的西方同行。中国人流露出谦逊的特质，他们不愿摆出一副架势教俄国人应该做什么或不应该做什么，而是情愿作为两国沟通了解的桥梁。

       在俄罗斯出现的对中国移民的消极态度确实会触动这些中国学者的神经，甚至他们读到《俄罗斯侧影》杂志中的主题讨论，带着怀疑的眼光来察看我们的价值取向。

       我做完报告有人问我，“你刚才谈到俄政府在媒体中的作用在提升，可是我们向俄政府反映在媒体中出现对中国移民不友好的态度，得到的回复却是俄媒体私人所有，政府无权干涉。那么，随着俄政府在媒体中作用提升，您是否认为这种不友好的态度会有所改观？”

       俄中两国关系在政治层面和经济层面发展良好，但在文化方面还很薄弱。大多数与会人员认为文化交流应成为促进两国关系不可或缺的一部分。郭小丽（俄文名叫奥莉娅）说：“我们两国文化具有很强的互补性。最近我读到尤里·罗特曼的一篇文章，文章说俄文化缺少中国文化中恪守的中庸之道。但是呢，中国文化同样缺少俄文化中所具有的开放性和创新性。或许是这样的，但上海明显是个多文明的聚会地，是古老的中华文化与20世纪初外来的西方文化共同塑造了今天的上海。前英租界已经成了现在的商业区和旅游区，而前法租界现在到处都是时尚的欧式咖啡馆、餐馆和酒吧会所等等。曾经属于俄罗斯的地方现在已很难寻找。在三、四十年代的时候，这些地儿曾是成千上万移民者的家园。以前有两个俄罗斯东正教堂，现在我只能找到其中一个。这得力于我来华的班机上遇到米哈伊尔·德罗兹多夫，他在上海做律师并兼任上海俄罗斯人俱乐部主席。那个叫圣·尼古拉的教堂，建于20世纪30年代，如今成了一家名叫阿散蒂圆顶屋的私人会所。房主是个女的，她对俄国人很警惕，并通过翻译反复强调这属于私人财产。

       而上海展览中心则代表着另一个不同的时代。它是典型的斯大林式建筑，建于20世纪50年代，当时作为中苏友好大厦。如今在中国俄罗斯似乎更依赖于非正式接触以打造其“软实力”。除了俄领馆这样的有一定历史的建筑物和一些俄罗斯人的小型会所，在上海还有大量到中国经商或游玩的俄罗斯人。

       然而，华师大国关院有一个欧盟资助的关于欧洲问题的研究项目，而俄中心却只有靠中国教育部提供课题经费。

       该中心虽与俄学者有来往，但还没有建立互派留学生的正式项目。毫无疑问，俄方应进一步帮助与会人员及其同事，要知道这些人在未来的几十年将会影响中国对俄罗斯的政策。

       会议结束后，组织人员领我们登上游船参观上海市中心的夜景。流光溢彩的摩天大楼、东方明珠电视塔、用彩灯装饰得很漂亮的游船以及霓虹闪烁的外滩—位于前英租界中心的河堤。在船上，冯绍雷给我引荐了从北京来的两位资深学者，看得出冯很尊重他们。一个是中国社科院欧洲研究所原所长陈乐民，另一个是美国研究所原所长资中筠。

      后来，在大家互相告别时，冯悄悄告诉我陈曾是毛泽东的翻译，而资也曾是周恩来的翻译。他们两位都是冯的老师。我想我差点就和毛握上手了！这次偶遇使我得窥在20世纪中俄两国戏剧性关系之一角。我将不会忘记这两位老教授。他们以前为中国共产党的领导人服务，后又为现代的改革的中国培养致力于国际关系研究的顶级专家。在这个喧嚣的国际大都市夜幕映衬下，他们和我挥手告别。

November 13, 2006

Shanghai Express

Editorial Comment by Andrei Zolotov, Jr.

Russia Profile

SHANGHAI. “Weeds grow by themselves, whereas a blooming garden requires an effort.”

       This quotation is from an editorial in the English-language China Daily, not a title of a contemplative medieval Chinese painting. Entitled “Relationship Blossoms,” the article is dedicated to Russian Prime Minister Mikhail Fradkov’s visit to Beijing last week to wrap up the Year of Russia in China – a massive effort to promote the relationship between the two countries, which, the leaders keep saying, are better than ever.

       As a sign of Russia’s increasing interest in China, two important Russia-related business conferences were taking place in Shanghai almost at the same time.

       My first trip to China was limited to a stopover in Shanghai, the country’s business capital. It had nothing to do with Fradkov’s visit to Beijing and was only remotely related to the Year of China in Russia. I had been invited by Feng Shaolei, the Director of the Center for Russian Studies at the School of Advanced International and Area Studies of East China Normal University to attend the First Forum of Eurasian Studies, subtitled the All-China Conference of Young Russia Scholars on Slavic and Eurasian Issues. Since Russia Profile had recently produced an issue on Russia’s relations with China, I was curious to get some feedback from Chinese experts on Russia.

       Of course, it would be wrong to generalize about China after only four days in one city. Yet there is a lot I can say. Modern Shanghai defies the stereotypes developed by foreign cultures about the city’s past history. In English, “to shanghai” means to capture somebody by force, a reference to the practice of capturing sailors by getting them drunk or drugged. In Russian, a “shankhai” means cramped and chaotic slums usually built by the inhabitants themselves without any architectural plan.

       Modern Shanghai feels like an amazingly safe and accessible city despite its gigantic size – at least 15 million people live within its administrative borders and an unclear, but likely much larger number spread around the suburbs. Looking obviously foreign and not knowing a word of Chinese other than “thank you,” I wondered around the city past midnight without feeling at all afraid. My only unpleasant experience was in the central tourist area, where a lone foreign pedestrian is routinely harassed by hustlers offering “buy watch,” “masadzhi” or “ledis’ bar.” The few slums I saw were in the process of being knocked down and replaced by decent, if not always architecturally superb, modern housing.

       Visiting Shanghai’s two biggest tourist attractions, the Shanghai Museum and the 400-year-old Yuyuan Garden, was a humbling experience. As someone who has never studied Chinese art but only saw it as a decorative element in a European setting, I realized that I lacked a frame of reference to comprehend it. In a way, I felt like the clueless foreign tourists who have often annoyed me in Moscow’s Tretyakov Gallery, discovering that Russian art was “cool.”

       Dynamism and willingness to learn are perhaps the best expression of the spirit of Shanghai. I stayed on the campus of the East China Normal University, and even at 9 p.m. I could see classrooms full of students. My Chinese colleagues said that academics were regarded highly by the Chinese society, on par with state officials – a very high status in China. According to two separately questioned graduate students, a good middle class salary for a young specialist in Shanghai would be around $600 to $800 – similarly to Moscow five or six years ago. Yet both would like to take special exams required to enter government service.

       About 80 Russia specialists from all over China attended the conference. Most of them had attended Soviet or Russian universities and often introduced themselves by their Russian names. Yang Minming, alias Katya, a teacher of Russian language and literature at East China University, was fresh from her studies at a university in St. Petersburg. She said her mother had gone to a kindergarten founded by Russian emigres in Harbin, and still speaks good Russian.

       After the three general presentations by guest speakers – Professor Kimitaka Matsuzato, Director of the Slavic Research Center at Hokkaido University, who gave a well-grounded, multifaceted lecture about Islam in Russia; my presentation on Russian media; and a very upbeat lecture on Russian economic development by Yang Cheng, a former Chinese diplomat in Moscow – the group adjourned into three sections: politics and diplomacy, economics, and culture.

       I joined the cultural section and was very impressed by the level of discussion. Among the topics discussed were Mikhail Bakhtin and Russian nationalism, opinions of Stalin in China and Russia, the heritage of philosopher Alexander Zinoviev, neo-Eurasianist thinker and activist Alexander Dugin, and the evolution of Soviet policy toward the Jews.

       One speaker complained that Chinese society would rather listen to Western scholars of Russia than to China’s own specialists. “In the West they pay a lot more attention to the study of Russia, and we pay insufficient attention,” the speaker said. “Here, we study Russian literature more than social issues.”

       Some observations by Chinese scholars were exceptionally insightful and challenging. For example, I have rarely heard a bolder definition of Russia’s post-Soviet condition than the one offered by historian Chean Tsyan Hua: “In Russia, they rejected Marxism and accepted post-modernism,” he said casually, as if invoking something that has long been proven.

       From talking to China’s Russia scholars, I came away with an impression of an inquisitive group that was in love with its subject. Unlike some of their Western colleagues, the Chinese exuded an aura of modesty: they did not want to teach Russia what it should do but were interested instead in serving as a bridge between the two nations.

       The negative attitude toward Chinese immigration inRussiawas clearly a sore point for them. Even those who read the discussion of the subject in Russia Profile viewed our interest in it with suspicion.

       “You are talking about the increased government role in Russian media,” was one of the questions after my lecture. “When we complain about the attitude to Chinese immigrants in the Russian press, we are told that the Russian media is privately owned and the government cannot do anything about it. Do you think this attitude is going to change with the increased government role in the press?”

       Most participants agreed that cultural exchange between the two nations is a necessary – and often lacking – part in the current relations betweenRussiaandChina, which are booming politically and economically. “Both our cultures have things that are missing in the other,” said Go Syagi, alias Olya. “I recently read a piece by Yury Lotman, who said that Russian culture lacks the golden middle. The Chinese have the golden middle, but we lack the openness to other cultures and thus openness to innovation that Russian culture has. We should learn from each other.”

       Maybe. ButShanghaiis clearly a meeting place of civilizations – a place formed by the coexistence of ancient Chinese culture and Western communities in the beginning of the 20th century. The former British area has grown into the financial and tourist districts, and part of the French quarter is now filled with fashionable European cafes, restaurants, and clubs.

       The remains of Russian Shanghai, which was the home to tens of thousands of emigres in the 1930s and 1940s, are not as visible. I was only able to locate one of the two former Russian Orthodox churches from a chance meeting on the plane fromMoscowwith Mikhail Drozdov, a Shanghai-based lawyer and chairman ofShanghai’s Russian Club. The former St. Nicholas Church, built in the 1930s, is now called Ashanti Dome and is a private club. The hostess was clearly wary of a Russian visitor and reiterated, through the translator, that it was a private property.

       TheShanghaiExhibitionCenterrepresents a different era. It is a landmark of Stalinist architecture, built in the 1950s as the House of Soviet-Chinese Friendship.

       TodayRussiaseems to rely more on informal contacts to project its “soft power” inChina. There are plenty of Russian businessmen and tourists inShanghaialong with the historic building of the Russian consulate and the small Russian Club.

       However, theSchoolofAdvanced Internationaland Area Studies has an EU-sponsored program on European studies, but the Center for Russian Studies is funded only byChina’s Ministry of Education. It has contacts with Russian academics, but no formal exchange program for students.Russiacould certainly do more to help the participants in the conference last week and their colleagues, those who will influenceChina’s policy towardsRussiain the decades to come.

       When the conference was over, the organizers took us for a boat trip to view central Shanghai by night: the glittering skyscrapers, the Pearl of the East television tower, brightly lit boats, and the illuminated Bund – the embankment at the heart of the former British section. On the boat, Feng Shaolei introduced me to two “Honored Academics” from Beijing, to whom he was demonstrating utmost respect: the former director of the Institute of Europe Studies Chen Leming and Zi Zhongyun, former director of the Institute of America Studies.

       Later on, as we said goodbye to each other, Feng Shaolei told me quietly that Chen Leming used to be the translator for Mao Zedong and Zi Zhongyun – for Zhou Enlai. Both have been his teachers. I was just one handshake away from Mao! This encounter offered a glimpse of the dramatic relations between China and Russia in the 20th century. And that is how I will remember them – two old professors, who had worked for China’s Communist leaders, and then taught the leading expert on international relations for the modern, reformed China, waving me good-bye against the backdrop of this bustling international metropolis.