Breeding Poison in the Bureaucracy: Today’s Officials Are Today’s Bandits
作者：赵杰
编辑：冯仍 责任编辑：罗志飞 鲁慧文 翻译：鲁慧文
关键词：释永信，养蛊，维稳，政绩，佛教
最近看到释永信被查的新闻，说实话，我一点都不惊讶。这和尚到底干了什么，十几年前网络上早就翻过底了，各种举报、实锤一堆堆的，可他不但没事，还越活越滋润， “从‘清修佛门’一路活成‘CEO和尚’，住别墅、坐豪车、出国开发布会，法号都快改叫“释·总裁”了。
图片来自中新网
我一看到这新闻，脑子里突然闪回十几年前看《今日说法》里讲的一期节目：内蒙古呼和浩特的一个公安局长，居然是当地最大的涉黑势力老大，黄赌毒全包，搞了十几年。堂堂公安局长，白天带警察扫黄打非，晚上自己坐庄收钱。更荒唐的是——这种局面持续了十几年，大家都知道，就是没人动他，直到纸实在包不住火才被查。
那时候我就在想，这种人，到底是怎么活下来的？后来我想通了，其实这不是“没发现”，是“不想查”，更别提什么“正义迟到但不会缺席”那种话，听多了只觉得讽刺。
这就叫“养蛊”——把老百姓当血肉，投进罐里喂毒虫。看过《盗墓笔记》的都懂，“养蛊”是把一堆毒虫封在坛里，互相吞噬，最后活下来的就是“蛊王”。
我现在觉得这不就是我们眼前的现状吗？体制里那些“选拔”，表面上是选贤任能，其实是“养蛊实验”，把一批人放进去，谁贪得狠、搞得稳、镇得住，就一路提拔；谁清白、讲原则，就早早被排挤。
这些“蛊”，不是靠民心上位的，是靠后台和手段。他们吃谁的血？就是我们老百姓的：土地是他们圈的，生意是他们垄断的，教育是他们操控的，医疗是他们分利的，连宗教信仰也成了他们的工具。
但最讽刺的是什么？这些蛊吸了我们几十年的血，最后不是我们拔掉，而是幕后那只“养蛊的手”亲自下场收割。
这些蛊活着的时候，是他们的打手，是他们维稳、搞钱、造政绩的工具；等蛊太大了，不听话了，或者“味太冲”了，就把它剁了，一边收回所有的资源，一边高调宣传：“看，我们动手了，正义来了！”
老百姓呢？前几十年让你吸了血，最后还得鼓掌感谢你“铲除了毒虫”，这叫什么？这叫——双重收割：先收你养蛊的收益，再收你“除蛊”的掌声。
正义若总是姗姗来迟，就是对罪恶的奖励。一个人作恶十几年，最后才查，是不是太晚了？晚到都成笑话了。你给他十几年时间去捞钱、升官、扩张，他早已把系统摸透了，关系打通了，钱送遍了，权稳如山。
结果你最后一刀下去，把他拖上新闻联播，说“法网恢恢、正义不缺”。我只觉得讽刺。说到底，这种迟到的正义，根本不是正义，是表演，是清场，是洗牌。
你以为清理了蛊王，系统就干净了？蛊死了，罐还在，养蛊的人还在，甚至手上已经开始培养下一只。
其实很多人都清楚这一套，只是没人说而已。真话说出来，不是“有见地”，是“给自己找麻烦”。
但我还是想说，就像那句让我印象很深的老话剧《匪于官》里那句台词：
“今天的官兴许是昨天的匪。”
——“错！今天的官，就是今天的匪！”
说到底，有些人不是变坏了，是一直就坏，只是被披上了合法的外衣，被系统“养熟了”，变成了温顺可控的工具。
可工具再顺，也是匪；穿上袈裟，也掩盖不了你是蛊。真正该拔除的，不是蛊王，而是养蛊的那只手。
更深一层的讽刺在于：在中共的体制下，连信仰都无法幸免。无论是佛教、基督教，还是其他宗教，
只要想生存下去，最终都必须“服从党的领导”。信仰的独立、净土的存在，在这样的结构下早就变成了一种奢望。所谓信仰，也不过是统治者手中一张“维稳”的牌。只要还在共产党的统治下，就注定没有真正干净的信仰，也没有真正纯粹的净土。
Breeding Poison in the Bureaucracy: Today’s Officials Are Today’s Bandits
By Zhao Jie
Editor: Feng Reng | Chief Editors: Luo Zhifei, Lu Huiwen | Translated by: Lu Huiwen
Key Words: Shi Yongxin, Breeding Poison (Yang Gu), Stability Maintenance (Weiwen), Political Achievements, Buddhism
Recently, news broke that Shi Yongxin is under investigation. Honestly, I’m not surprised at all. People have been digging up dirt on this so-called monk for over a decade. The internet has been full of allegations and hard evidence—yet not only did nothing happen to him, he actually thrived. He went from a “meditative monk” to a “CEO monk,” living in villas, riding in luxury cars, holding press conferences abroad. At this point, he might as well change his Dharma name to “Shi · Executive.”
Image from China News
The moment I saw the news, my mind flashed back to a Legal Report episode I saw over ten years ago. It was about a police chief in Hohhot, Inner Mongolia—who turned out to be the biggest mob boss in town, running prostitution, gambling, and drugs for more than a decade. By day, he led the police in cracking down on crime. By night, he ran the rackets himself. What’s more absurd? Everyone knew it, and yet no one touched him—until it became impossible to cover up.
Back then, I wondered how people like that survive. Now I get it. It’s not that no one discovered them. It’s that no one wanted to deal with them. And don’t even mention that tired line, “Justice may be late, but it never misses.” The more I hear it, the more cynical I become.
This is what we call “breeding poison” (养蛊)—treating the people as human fodder to raise a jar of venomous insects. Anyone who’s read The Grave Robbers’ Chronicles knows: you throw a bunch of deadly bugs in a sealed jar and let them devour each other. The last one standing is the king parasite.
Isn’t that exactly what’s happening in our system? The so-called selection of officials isn’t about choosing the virtuous—it’s a poison-breeding experiment. You throw a bunch of people in, and whoever can out-greed, out-scheme, and out-stabilize the others gets promoted. Those who are clean, who stand by their principles? They get pushed out early.
These parasites don’t rise on popular will. They rise on political backing and dirty tactics. And who pays the price? We do. It’s our land they seize, our businesses they monopolize, our schools they control, our healthcare they profit from. Even religion becomes a tool in their hands.
But here’s the cruelest irony: after leeching off us for decades, these parasites don’t get taken down by the people—but by the very hand that raised them.
As long as they’re useful, they’re the regime’s enforcers—used to maintain stability, generate income, fabricate achievements. But once they grow too bold, too independent, or just become too much of a liability, that hand comes down and chops them off. Then the authorities loudly declare: “Look! We’re cracking down! Justice is here!”
And we, the people? After decades of being drained, we’re expected to applaud our own “liberation” from the monster they bred. That’s what I call double exploitation: first, they harvest the fruits of “raising poison,” then they milk applause for “removing poison.”
Justice that always arrives late is no justice—it’s a reward for evil. When someone commits crimes for over a decade and only gets caught at the end, it’s not justice—it’s a farce. You gave them years to accumulate wealth, secure promotions, build influence. By the time you finally “bring the hammer down,” their roots are deep, their network extensive, their power unshakable.
And then you splash it all over the evening news, claiming, “No one escapes the law.” To me, that’s a joke. That final strike isn’t about justice. It’s performance. It’s a reset. A reshuffling of cards.
Think eliminating the king parasite fixes anything? The bug may be dead, but the jar remains. And the hand that bred it is already nurturing the next one.
Many people already know how this works. They just don’t dare speak up. Speaking the truth doesn’t earn praise—it gets you in trouble.
Still, I want to say it. I remember a line from the old play The Bandits in Office:
“Today’s officials may have been yesterday’s bandits.”
—“Wrong! Today’s officials are today’s bandits!”
Some people never “turned bad”—they were always bad. They just got wrapped in legitimacy. They got tamed and trained by the system, turned into obedient tools.
But no matter how obedient a tool is—it’s still a bandit. And no matter how ornate the robe, it cannot hide the stench of poison.
What truly needs to be uprooted is not the parasite—but the hand that breeds them.
And here lies the deeper tragedy: under the CCP’s system, even faith isn’t spared. Whether Buddhism, Christianity, or any other belief—if it wants to survive, it must ultimately “submit to Party leadership.” The independence of faith, the existence of any sacred space—these have become unattainable luxuries.
In such a structure, “faith” is merely another card in the regime’s “stability maintenance” deck. As long as the Communist Party rules, there will be no truly pure faith—and no truly sacred ground.
