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洛杉矶 10月26日 《全球觉醒》 第四十四期

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洛杉矶 10月26日 《全球觉醒》 第四十四期
洛杉矶 10月26日 《全球觉醒》 第四十四期

《全球覺醒》第四十四期

自由之鐘 時刻敲響 全球覺醒 民主聯盟 消滅獨裁 推翻暴政

【活動主題】譴責中共鎮壓錫安教會與法輪功等信仰群體

10月16日,美國國際宗教自由委員會舉行聽證會,主題為「中共國家控制宗教」。多位美國政要與專家揭露:在中國大陸,根本不存在宗教自由。中共推行所謂「宗教中國化」,強迫教堂掛上習近平像,要求信徒宣誓忠於黨而非上帝,重寫聖經與聖歌,把信仰變成政治工具。這不是管理,而是對靈魂的奴役。

日前,中共突襲並逮捕錫安教會三十多位牧師,其中包括任志強牧師。他們的「罪名」,只是在中共控制之外傳講真理。與此同時,法輪功群體仍在承受迫害。今年1月至7月,就有九十位學員被迫害致死,五百多人被非法判刑,只因不肯放棄「真、善、忍」的信仰。

國際社會多年揭露中共活摘法輪功學員及其他良心犯器官的暴行。2025年,美國國會通過《法輪功保護法案》和《制止活摘器官法案》,要求追究反人類罪。中共以國家機器對抗信仰自由,顯露的不是強大,而是恐懼——它懼怕真理與良知的覺醒。

宗教自由是最基本的人權。祈禱、誦經與靜修,都是人類文明的光。中共摧毀教堂、焚書、監禁牧師、迫害法輪功與藏傳佛教徒,它毀掉的不僅是信仰,更是中華民族的良知。

今天,我們在自由的土地上為不能發聲的人吶喊。聲援被囚牧師與修煉者;要求中共停止迫害,釋放所有信仰犯;呼籲美國與國際社會,將宗教自由列為對華交往核心議題。

信仰無罪,歷史的審判終將到來,迫害者逃不過正義的制裁。

真、善、忍永不滅,良知與信仰共存!

拒絕「宗教中國化」!還信仰以自由!

信仰無罪!迫害有罪!

聲援錫安教會!聲援法輪功!時間:2025年10月26日(星期日)4:00PM(下午)

地點:中共駐洛杉磯總領館

地址:443 Shatto Pl, Los Angeles, CA 90020

活動召集人:劉廣賢/盧振華

活動規劃:周蘭英/勞紹海

活動主持:易勇

組織者:

張傳平6268361089/歐陽淵博9098595603

陳斌9093780791/劉炳良6268612558

孫曄6265976922 /邢倫基6265656311

活動義工:于海龍/王彪/卜青松/劉樂園/張維清/黄思博

攝影:Ji Luo/陸敏健/王永/張允密

主辦單位:

中國民主黨全聯總美西黨部

中國民主黨全聯總美南黨部

自由鍾民主基金會

活动收集:胡丽莉

凱旋與控訴:自由雕塑公園的流動之聲

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凱旋與控訴:自由雕塑公園的流動之聲

作者:潘榮華

編輯:胡麗莉   責任編輯:羅志飛   校對:程筱筱   翻譯:劉芳

【導語】

2025年的秋風,吹過美國西岸的沙漠。

在加州耶莫(Yermo)那片沉默的荒原上,一群來自自由世界與流亡中國的靈魂,舉起旗幟,迎接一場橫貫東西、震撼人心的藝術行動——

「追責中共病毒雕塑巡遊」凱旋歸來。

這不僅是一場展覽的結束,而是一場歷史的證言;

不只是抵達終點,而是人類記憶與良知的重新出發。

一、在自由的邊疆:一座以信念鑄成的公園

沿著美國15號州際公路,駛入莫哈維沙漠深處,會在荒涼與烈陽之間,看見一塊鐵鏽色的牌子——

凱旋與控訴:自由雕塑公園的流動之聲

圖1:Liberty Sculpture Park,自由雕塑公園。

這裡由雕塑家陳維明於2017年購地創建,佔地36英畝。

園中有「六四」紀念碑、「坦克人」雕塑、「香港自由女神」、「中共病毒」系列等作品,題材直指極權暴政與人類自由的碰撞。

這片土地,是中國自由運動在海外的精神家園,也是記錄受難者的紀念地。

在這裡,藝術不是為了美,而是為了證明:

真相不能被掩埋,記憶不應被焚毀。

二、病毒頭與骷髏臉:鐵之詩與火之吶喊

那尊象徵「中共病毒」的巨型雕塑——

以金屬、玻璃纖維、鋼筋構成,頭部結合人像與病毒刺突。

鋼鐵與火圖2 焰構成的象徵:藝術家以雕塑揭示制度的黑暗與疫情的代價。
它不是虛構的象徵,而是一首由痛苦與控訴鑄成的詩。

藝術家以強烈的視覺語言揭露了疫情背後的權力黑幕:

隱瞞、封鎖、壓制、推卸。

病毒蔓延世界,數以百萬計的生命逝去,而真相至今仍被塵封。

這雕塑曾在2021年被縱火摧毀,翌年又在志願者手中重生。

「燒不死的藝術」—-這正是自由的寓言:

真理或可被焚,卻永不被毀。

三、流動的雕塑:當藝術駛向公路

今年的雕塑巡遊,是一次思想的長征。

圖3 巡遊車隊穿越美國東西海岸,將雕塑化為行動的真相見證。

車隊從美國東岸出發,跨越十餘州,途經首都華盛頓,最終回歸加州。

雕塑被固定於卡車之上,成為行進的圖騰。

沿途的公路與城市,變成臨時的展館;

觀眾不是觀展人,而是所有路過的靈魂。

車隊每停一站,人們圍聚、拍照、歌唱、談論——

那是一場行動藝術的實驗,也是一場民主精神的朝聖。

藝術不再是牆內的擺設,而是公共的良心。

它提醒人們:當真理被囚禁,藝術便成為它的逃亡者。

四、凱旋儀式:火焰中的榮耀

圖4:陳維明,雕塑家、自由雕塑公園創辦人。以藝術記錄自由的火焰。

10月7日,洛杉磯的陽光下,凱旋歸來的車隊抵達自由雕塑公園。

旗幟獵獵,雕塑在風中閃耀著金屬光。

人群高唱、舉旗、合影,笑容裡有淚光。

這場儀式,不是勝利的炫耀,而是痛苦的致敬。

那些在疫情中失去親人的人們、在牢獄中堅守信念的異議者、在流亡中依然創作的藝術家——

他們都在這一刻,得到了片刻的安息。

凱旋者不是征服者,而是見證者。

他們帶回的,不是榮耀,而是證詞。

五、真相的遠征:雕塑之外的啟示

這場巡遊與雕塑的核心,並不僅是對某一事件的抗議,

而是一場關於人性與責任的全球對話。

它問:

當權力遮蔽真相,我們是否仍敢追問?

當制度壓迫良知,我們是否仍能創作?

當病毒奪走生命,我們是否還記得那些被掩埋的聲音?

自由雕塑公園以金屬與火焰塑造的形象,是全人類的鏡子。

它不僅屬於中國流亡者,也屬於每一個相信真理的人。

六、歷史將記住這一天

在夜幕下的公園,火光映照雕塑的輪廓。

有人說那像是一座墳,也像是一座燈塔。

它既為受難者哀悼,也為未來指路。

歷史終將記住這一刻——

記住那些駕著自由之車,載著雕塑、旗幟與信念穿越美洲的人;

圖5 中共病毒雕塑車巡游活動參與者合影

記住他們用藝術對抗遺忘,用勇氣證明真相。

因為自由不是贈與,而是代價。

真相不是口號,而是血與火中淬煉的信念。

Triumph and Accusation: The Moving Voice of Liberty Sculpture Park

Author: Pan Ronghua

Editor: HU Lili   Executive Editor: Luo Zhifei   Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao   Translator: Liu Fang

Abstract: The “Accountability for the CCP Virus Sculpture Tour” triumphantly returned after traversing the United States from the East Coast, concluding at Liberty Sculpture Park in California. Through sculpture, the artists denounced totalitarianism and the concealment of the pandemic, transforming pain into testimony and affirming a belief that freedom and truth can never be burned away.

[Prologue] The autumn wind of 2025 swept across the deserts of America’s West Coast. In the silent wasteland of Yermo, California, a group of souls from the free world and exiled China raised their flags to welcome an artistic movement that had crossed the continent— The “Accountability for the CCP Virus Sculpture Tour” had returned in triumph. It was not merely the end of an exhibition, but the testimony of history; Not just an arrival, but a new departure for human memory and conscience.

I. On the Frontier of Freedom: A Park Forged by Faith

Driving along Interstate 15 into the heart of the Mojave Desert, one finds a rust-colored sign that reads—

凱旋與控訴:自由雕塑公園的流動之聲

Fig1. Liberty Sculpture Park.

Founded by sculptor Chen Weiming in 2017, the park spans 36 acres. It houses monuments such as the “June Fourth Memorial,” “Tank Man,” “Hong Kong Goddess of Freedom,” and the “CCP Virus” series—works that confront tyranny and celebrate the human struggle for liberty. This land stands as the spiritual home of the Chinese democracy movement abroad and a memorial to the persecuted. Here, art does not exist for beauty’s sake—it exists to declare: Truth cannot be buried, and memory must not be burned.

II. Virus Head and Skull Face: The Iron Poem and the Cry of Fire

The monumental sculpture representing the “CCP Virus” is built from metal, fiberglass, and rebar—its head fusing the human form with viral spikes.

Fig 2. Forged in steel and flame, it stands as a symbol of how art exposes systemic darkness and the human cost of the pandemic.

It is not a metaphor but a poem cast in pain and accusation. Through a striking visual language, the artist unveils the political obscurity behind the outbreak: concealment, censorship, suppression, and denial. The virus spread across the world, claiming millions of lives, while truth remains sealed in silence. The sculpture was burned down by arson in 2021 and resurrected the following year by volunteers. “Art that cannot be burned”—this is the allegory of freedom: truth may be set aflame, but it will never be destroyed.

III. Moving Sculpture: When Art Takes to the Road

This year’s sculpture tour was a long march of ideas.

Fig 3. Crossing the American continent from east to west, it transformed art into a living witness of truth.

Departing from the East Coast, the convoy traversed more than ten states, passed through Washington, D.C., and finally returned to California. The sculptures, mounted on trucks, became mobile totems. The highways and cities turned into temporary galleries; the spectators were not visitors, but every passerby who saw them. At every stop, people gathered, photographed, sang, and spoke— it was both a performance of action art and a pilgrimage of democratic spirit. Art was no longer decoration within walls, but the conscience of the public. It reminds the world: when truth is imprisoned, art becomes its fugitive.

IV. The Triumph Ceremony: Glory in the Flames

Fig 4. Chen Weiming—sculptor, founder of Liberty Sculpture Park—has long used art to record the flame of freedom.

On October 7, under the Los Angeles sun, the returning convoy arrived at Liberty Sculpture Park. Flags fluttered, sculptures gleamed in the wind. People sang, raised flags, took photos; smiles shone through tears. This ceremony was not a display of victory, but an homage to pain. To those who lost loved ones in the pandemic, to dissidents who kept faith in prison, to exiled artists who never ceased to create— in that moment, they found a measure of peace. The triumphant were not conquerors, but witnesses. What they brought back was not glory, but testimony.

V. The Expedition of Truth: Lessons Beyond the Sculpture

The essence of this tour and its sculptures lies not only in protest, but in a global dialogue about humanity and responsibility. It asks: When power hides the truth, do we still dare to seek it? When systems suppress conscience, can we still create? When the virus takes lives, do we remember the silenced voices? The images cast in metal and flame at Liberty Sculpture Park are a mirror for all humankind. They belong not only to exiled Chinese, but to everyone who believes in truth.

VI. History Will Remember This Day

Under the night sky, the firelight cast the sculptures’ shadows across the park. Some said it looked like a grave; others, a lighthouse. It mourns the fallen and points the way forward. History will remember this moment—

Figure 5. Group photo of participants in the “CCP Virus Sculpture Tour” event.

those who drove the vehicles of freedom, carrying sculptures, flags, and conviction across America; those who fought oblivion with art and proved truth with courage. For freedom is not a gift, but a price. Truth is not a slogan, but a faith forged in blood and fire.

极权主义自我崩溃的机制

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作者:张兴贵

编辑:周志刚   责任编辑:罗志飞   翻译:刘芳

极权体制以其高度集中、全面控制和压迫性治理为特征,历史上曾多次深刻影响人类社会。然而,纵观历史,极权体制的崩溃并非源于人民的直接“推倒”,而是体制内部矛盾积累、自我崩溃的自然终结。这种现象是必然的,是由极权体制的内在逻辑和运行机制所决定的。

一、极权体制的内在矛盾

极权体制是一种高度集中的政治体系,强调对社会、经济、文化乃至个人思想的全面控制。它通常依赖强有力的意识形态、严密的组织结构和暴力机器来维持统治。

1.权力过度集中的结构性缺陷

极权体制的核心是权力的绝对集中,通常由单一领袖或小集团掌控所有关键决策。这种结构在短期内能够高效推动政策实施,但在长期运行中暴露出严重缺陷。权力集中导致决策缺乏多元化视角,容易产生战略失误;缺乏有效的制衡机制使得错误无法被及时纠正,下级为了迎合上意往往放大问题,最终形成恶性循环。

2.意识形态僵化与合法性危机

极权体制通常依赖宏大的意识形态来维系其合法性,如共产主义、纳粹主义或民族主义。然而,意识形态的僵化限制了体制的适应性,使其难以应对外部环境的变化,如全球化和技术进步的冲击。

3.信息封闭与反馈机制缺失

极权体制倾向于控制信息流动,压制异议声音,以维护统治稳定。然而,这种信息封闭导致体制无法及时感知外部变化或内部问题,决策者往往生活在虚假的信息泡沫中;信息封闭还导致政策制定缺乏科学依据,长期积累的错误最终动摇体制根基。

4.经济资源分配的低效性

极权体制通常通过中央计划或资源垄断控制经济,但这种模式往往导致资源分配低效、浪费严重;长期的经济困境侵蚀了体制的物质基础,削弱了其对民众的吸引力。

5.社会控制成本的递增

极权体制通过暴力、监控和宣传维持社会控制,但这种控制的成本随着时间推移不断上升。为了压制异议,体制需要投入越来越多的资源用于秘密警察、宣传机器等,最终导致财政不堪重负。社会控制成本的上升不仅耗尽了财政资源,还进一步疏远了民众,使体制的合法性进一步受损。当控制成本超过体制的承受能力时,崩溃成为必然。

二、极权体制自我腐烂的机制

极权体制的崩溃并非突发事件,而是内部矛盾长期累积、腐烂过程逐渐显现的结果。

1.官僚体系的腐化与低效

极权体制依赖庞大的官僚体系执行政策,但官僚体系的扩张往往伴随着腐败和低效。由于缺乏外部监督和竞争,官僚机构倾向于自我保护、推卸责任,导致政策执行力下降。

2.精英阶层的分裂与背叛

极权体制的稳定性高度依赖统治精英的忠诚,但当内部矛盾加剧时,精英阶层往往出现分裂。部分精英可能因利益受损、意识形态幻灭或对体制前景的悲观而选择背叛。这种分裂往往在关键时刻(如经济危机或外部压力)暴露出来,成为崩溃的催化剂。

3.民众的被动抵抗与信任危机

虽然极权体制的崩溃很少是人民直接“推倒”的结果,但民众的被动抵抗在体制腐烂中起到了重要作用。被动抵抗包括怠工、低效劳动、逃避管制等行为,这些行为虽然不直接对抗体制,却显著削弱了其运行效率。同时,民众的信任危机进一步加剧了体制的困境:当民众不再相信体制的承诺,体制的动员能力大幅下降,最终导致其无法有效应对危机。

这些机制相互作用,形成了一个恶性循环:官僚腐败导致经济低效,经济困境引发社会不满,社会不满加剧控制成本,控制成本的上升进一步削弱经济基础,最终导致精英分裂和体制崩溃。

三、极权体制崩溃的启示

极权体制的自我崩溃机制为现代社会提供了深刻启示:

1.权力制衡的重要性

极权体制的过度集中导致其缺乏自我纠错能力,权力制衡的缺失是其腐烂的根源。相比之下,民主体制通过分权和监督机制,能够在一定程度上缓解内部矛盾,延长体制的寿命。

2.经济效率与社会信任

经济效率是体制合法性的重要基础。极权体制的经济低效往往引发社会不满,最终导致崩溃。现代社会需要通过市场化改革和公平的资源分配,满足民众的物质需求,巩固体制的合法性。

3.信息开放与反馈机制

信息封闭是极权体制的典型特征,但这也使其无法适应快速变化的外部环境。开放的信息流动和有效的反馈机制能够帮助体制及时调整政策。全球化时代,封闭的体制难以抵御外部影响。现代社会需要通过开放合作和国际交流,主动适应外部环境的变化,避免因封闭而导致的崩溃。

极权体制的崩溃为现代社会提供了宝贵启示:权力的傲慢与封闭是体制最大的敌人,而开放、包容与自我纠错才是长治久安的基石。任何政治体系要想长久维系,必须建立有效的权力制衡机制、保持经济活力、开放信息流动并赢得社会信任。

The Mechanism of Totalitarian Self-Collapse

Author: Zhang Xinggui  

Editor: Zhou Zhigang   Managing Editor: Luo Zhifei   Translator: Liu Fang

This article analyzes the inevitable collapse of centralized regimes. The inefficiency of resource allocation leads to a heavy socioeconomic burden; bureaucratic self-preservation results in long-term evasion of responsibility; and declining executive capacity and public distrust further accelerate decay. Characterized by extreme concentration of power, pervasive control, and repressive governance, totalitarian systems have profoundly influenced human history. Yet, their downfall rarely comes from direct popular overthrow but rather from internal contradictions that accumulate until the system collapses under its own weight. This outcome is inevitable—determined by the system’s intrinsic logic and operational mechanism.

I. The Internal Contradictions of Totalitarianism

Totalitarianism is a highly centralized political system that seeks complete control over society, the economy, culture, and even individual thought. It relies on a powerful ideology, a rigid organizational structure, and a machinery of violence to sustain its rule.

1. Structural Defects of Excessive Power Concentration At its core, totalitarianism rests on absolute concentration of power, often in the hands of a single leader or a small clique. While this can produce short-term efficiency, it eventually reveals fatal flaws. Concentrated power excludes diverse perspectives, increasing the risk of strategic mistakes. Without effective checks and balances, errors go uncorrected, while subordinates exaggerate or distort information to please superiors—creating a vicious cycle.

2. Ideological Rigidity and the Crisis of Legitimacy Such regimes depend on grand ideological narratives—communism, Nazism, nationalism—to justify their legitimacy. Yet rigid ideology undermines adaptability, leaving the regime ill-equipped to respond to global or technological changes.

3. Information Control and Lack of Feedback Totalitarian governments suppress dissent and tightly control information to maintain stability. This information blockade blinds decision-makers to reality, trapping them in echo chambers of false data. As errors accumulate without correction, the system’s foundations weaken.

4. Inefficiency in Resource Allocation Centrally planned or monopolized economies often suffer from inefficiency and waste. Over time, chronic economic stagnation erodes the material base of the regime and diminishes its appeal to the public.

5. Escalating Costs of Social Control Maintaining control through surveillance, propaganda, and coercion becomes increasingly expensive. The resources required for secret police and state media grow unsustainable, draining the treasury and alienating citizens. When the costs of control exceed what the regime can bear, collapse becomes inevitable.

II. The Mechanisms of Internal Decay

Totalitarian collapse is rarely sudden; it is the cumulative result of long-term internal decay.

1. Bureaucratic Corruption and Inefficiency The bureaucratic apparatus expands alongside corruption. Lacking external oversight, officials prioritize self-preservation and avoid accountability, undermining policy enforcement and administrative effectiveness.

2. Elite Division and Betrayal Regime stability depends heavily on elite cohesion. But when internal conflicts intensify, divisions emerge. Disillusioned elites—disadvantaged by policy shifts or disenchanted by ideology—may defect. These fractures often surface in crises such as economic downturns or foreign pressure, acting as catalysts for collapse.

3. Passive Resistance and Public Distrust While citizens seldom directly overthrow totalitarian regimes, their passive resistance—through inefficiency, apathy, or quiet noncompliance—gradually erodes state capacity. As trust in the regime vanishes, its mobilization power diminishes, leaving it incapable of crisis response.

These forces reinforce each other: bureaucratic corruption leads to economic stagnation; economic hardship breeds public discontent; discontent inflates the costs of repression; repression drains economic resources; and resource depletion sparks elite fragmentation—culminating in systemic collapse.

III. Lessons from Totalitarian Collapse

The self-destruction of totalitarianism offers enduring lessons for modern governance:

1. The Necessity of Checks and Balances Excessive concentration of power destroys a system’s self-correcting capacity. Balanced institutions, competition, and accountability mechanisms are essential for resilience.

2. Economic Efficiency and Social Trust Economic performance underpins legitimacy. Sustained inefficiency fosters social unrest. A just, market-oriented economy that meets citizens’ needs strengthens stability.

3. Transparency and Feedback Information openness enables timely policy adjustment. In a globalized world, isolation invites failure. Openness, cooperation, and international engagement are antidotes to systemic stagnation.

Conclusion The collapse of totalitarian regimes teaches that arrogance and isolation are the greatest enemies of power. Enduring stability rests not on repression but on openness, inclusiveness, and self-correction. For any political system to survive, it must institutionalize balance, sustain economic vitality, embrace transparency, and earn the trust of its people.

有什么人权可言?——谢文飞的狱中见证

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有什么人权可言?——谢文飞的狱中见证

作者:谢文飞

编辑:gloria wang   责任编辑:罗志飞   校对:李杰   翻译:刘芳

世界人权日说说我们人权捍卫者的亲身经历吧!

2020年4月29日上午,我发表“祭林昭”,当晚抓捕我的是两个穿黑衣的彪形大汉(目测体重在90公斤左右),躲在黑暗的角落里等着我,当我想要绕过去的时候,两条壮汉二话不说,直接就把我按倒在地上,并且持续按了很久。到了办案中心,我才发现,他们的圆领T恤胸前印着“烙铁头”三个字。

有什么人权可言?——谢文飞的狱中见证

有什么人权可言?

2022年5月28日,我和资兴看守所的146个人一起转移到郴州看守所。在“401”号监室里,由于我不愿蹲下,一个人渣趁我不备,抬手就是一巴掌打在我脸上。我毫不犹豫的一脚把他踹开,然后就是几个人渣对我群起殴之,我被迫奋起反抗。

没想到,一个被称为“李所”的人进来了以后,又是趁我不备一巴掌打在我脸上(我之前进过几个看守所,坐牢六年多了,没被警察打过)。在他走后,受到暗示和鼓励的一群(至少有七八个)人渣一拥而上,我再也没有了反抗的余地,直接被打倒。被打得头昏眼花,头痛欲裂,头上起了好几个包,只觉得天旋地转,摇摇欲坠。

李某辉副所长把我带到谈话室以后,我要求去治疗和检查一下伤势,被泠酷地拒绝。接着就要把我丢回“401”监室去。我说那就让他们打死算了。他说在我这里打死个人就和打死条狗一样。埋都不用埋,直接拉去焚尸炉烧掉就是了,我们这里离火化厂很近(我第一次知道我离焚尸炉这么近)。我只觉得头痛到了极点,好像马上就要炸裂一样,就和孙悟空被唐僧念紧箍咒,在地上疯狂打滚之后的情形一样。再加上急怒攻心,顿时栽倒在地。

李副所长叫人把我拖到了单间“6011”。我醒来发现被丢在水泥地板上,地上有一滩水,头挨着厕所坑,一双袜子被磨烂了。旁边有一张由水泥固定的木板单人床。

我的头连续几天头痛欲裂,头上的包很多天不见消肿。连续四天按报警,要求去医院检查身体被拒绝。绝食抗议了三天毫无成效。并且没有人承认我被打了。

有什么人权可言?!

2023年5月30日,我从资兴看守所“下队”到郴州监狱。到监狱的第一时间,就叫我们从资兴看守所送去的14个人,脱光衣服集体蹲在地上蛙跳。我不愿意,结果,在我被送达监狱的一个小时之内,我就被关进了收押中心二楼0.18平方米的铁笼子。那天室内温度35摄氏度,8个多小时,我只喝了一小汤匙水,没有吃任何东西,身上的衣服被汗浸湿透了好几次。

当晚又被关进了五楼的“高度戒备监区”,在0.7平方米的铁笼子里两个星期,每天待在铁笼子里15个小时以上。连续六天不准我洗澡;连续几天不准我喝水、上厕所。我绝食抗议了几天也无效。

姓梁的监区长当着十几个(被关铁笼子的有8人,加“绿马甲”好几个)人的面说:

“这个人(指我)给我关死一点,不要给他喝水,不要给他放水(指上厕所)。只要不让他死在这里就行了。”

于是,我愤而提出要求上“老虎凳”。不到两个小时,我的“愿望”就被满足了。上了老虎凳不到十分钟,我双手就肿起来了,头上的汗珠滚滚而下,很快就汇成了汗水的洪流。衣服也很快就湿透了。——由于老虎凳是为比我高十公分的人设计的,我是被拼命往前拉,费了很大的劲才把手铐上去的。我的状况,在围观的人看来很不妙。

几个小时后从老虎凳下来之后,连续五天,我的右手虎口麻木,大拇指不能正常活动。两个月后,大拇指还有被低电压电流连接的麻木感。

有什么人权可言?!

2023年6月8日,在一份监狱要求我填写的档案资料上,我写道:

“自从我5月30日来到郴州监狱之后,我没有被当作一个真正的人来对待。无论我作为一个自然人,还是一个被关押的犯人,或是一个政治犯,哪怕是一个罪大恶极的犯人,我都享有一个人最基本的人权。个体人格尊严是全人类整体人格尊严的一部份,人类的整体人格尊严是由每一个个体的人格尊严集合而成。监狱即使要达到某种“改造”人的目的,也不能以践踏和牺牲人类的人格尊严为代价。”

2023年6月25日,我被送往湖南省长沙监狱。我的两箱书不准带进去,就连只拿一本《唐诗三百首》和一本《四书章句集注》也被拒绝。美其名曰“零带入”——这是雷建华监狱长亲自改革的监管措施,是雷监狱长的权威的极致体现之一。和我同一天送到长沙监狱收押中心的一个42岁来自广西柳州的犯人,7月初就死了。我没有看到任何人承担相应的责任。在收押中心将近两个月,我们不准读书写字,我三次提出借阅书柜里的《史记》也遭拒绝。

2023年8月21日,我下队到了四监区以后,连续五天因为我不愿无缘无故的被命令蹲下,而被按在走廊上。为的是“杀鸡给猴看”。2023年8月27日,我因为拒绝被强制要求唱红歌,被犯人和警察先后殴打。监区最高大的谢某军警官一脚把我踢飞后说:“涉及到政治原因,打了也白打。不服你就去纪委告去检察院告,去监狱长那里去告,你去哪里告我都不怕!”

有什么人权可言?!

2023年8月29日,我由于不准上厕所,憋尿憋得太久,等到集体“放水”的时候,我一泡尿断断续续撒了20分钟才撒完。撒出来的尿像被切断成一截一截的。就在当天,我被警官口头作出惩罚:

每天上午、下午打开水的时候,只准给我打别人的1/3至1/2的份量;每天只准我上午、下午分别上一次厕所。庆幸的是,我遇到了稍有良知的“吴妈妈”,这个处罚没有被严格执行。一个星期后,让我恢复到完全按“规定”的规格打开水和放水。但每天只准打两次开水的规矩,直到我2024年10月29日回家也没有打破。我几乎每天上午和下午,都要在焦渴中等上两到三个小时才能喝上开水。哪怕前列腺炎有多严重,也得不到有效治疗。且在2023年8月21日至2023年12月30日期间,我和其他人“打报告”上厕所,总共只有8次,有5次被硬生生地挡了回来。

有什么人权可言?

简直是连动物都不如!

在长沙监狱服刑一年四个月,我只读了五本书,还没有在河源监狱一个月读的书多。因为我在长沙监狱要么是被禁止读书,要么就是根本没有时间和精力读书。我持续练了六年的书法之路被硬生生斩断,毛笔都没摸过。

正如我在写给雷监狱长的那封永远得不到回应的信里所写的,自从我的两箱书被挡在长沙监狱门外的那一刻起,我在长沙监狱里的服刑生涯就注意是一场恶梦!因为对于持续读了十几年书的我来说,如果有书可以读的话,哪怕身处地狱我也能够忍受;反之,即使是在天堂,如果禁止我读书的话,我也觉得是身在地狱之中。感谢长沙监狱教狱科,在2024年3月3日我被警察打了,投诉无门之后,3月8日给我转了一本弗朗西斯.福山先生的《政治秩序与政治衰败》,使我渐渐地活过来了。

在2024年8月份严格执行“9511”之前的一年一个月里,我们平均每周工作时间超过60个小时。

在2024年3月23日搬到长沙监狱新址以后,有一个多月,我们甚至被强制要求加中班(我本人加过一次,在170多个人的中队里,每天至少有几十个人被强制要求加中班)。一直以来,完不成任务的人,被各种各样的惩罚伺候。

在新址,为了追求所谓的“就餐秩序”,每天上午和下午收工之前,就让人把我们吃的用不锈钢盘子装的饭菜摆在不锈钢桌上,等我们吃饭的时候,饭菜基本上都是冰凉的。即使是在3月份,很多人因为身体不好,还穿着棉衣的情况下也是这样。我反映了多次,毫无改善。我记得,我们家十几年前养猪的时候,我家的猪都要吃热的猪潲,泠的根本不吃。

我做为一个人权捍卫者,却落到了连猪都不如的境地。

2020年谢文飞第二次坐牢前来杭州看望朱虞夫

有什么人权可言?

很多人会说,我们的监狱法第七条不是堂而皇之地规定了,要保障服刑人员的权利以及我们的人格尊严受到保护的吗?我相信,真正清醒的人都清楚,我们离法治社会还有(在短期内如果不是越来越远的话)很遥远的距离。

况且,我们的雷监狱长在大会上公开讲话时说,我们的身份是罪犯,是通常所说的“坏人”(关于这点我要严正抗议,并且在时机成熟之后要求雷监狱长公开承认错误)就是要接受惩罚的;而且长沙监狱已经太好了,好到了中国第一流、湖南第一的地步。再好的话,就会导致那些生活不如意的人,在狄更斯的指引下,来投奔长沙监狱了。雷监狱长在大会上还要求我们罪犯,要时时刻刻记住那墙上的“灵魂三问”——那是与“康德三问”完全悖反的东西。

因此,在雷监狱长的英明领导之下,在他的雷厉风行的淫威下,鲜有人敢去投诉的。即使投诉,就像我在被打之后,写给驻监检察官的信暨要求会见我的律师张磊律师要求申诉的信,遭到被当着我的面撕毁的下场。

在中国的监狱里,尤其是在我们长沙监狱里,不要再跟我提什么人权!

这就是长沙监狱掷地有声的宣言!

法国思想家伊佐说:

考察一国之文明程度,视其监狱管理制度可决也。

诚哉斯言!

——人权捍卫者谢文飞冒死书于2024年世界人权日

What Human Rights Can There Be? — XIE Wenfei’s Testimony from Prison

Writer: Xie, Wenfei

Editor: Wang, Gloria   Chief Editor: Luo, Zhifei   Proofreader: Li, Jie   Translator: Liu, Fang

On World Human Rights Day, let me share the personal experiences of us, the defenders of human rights.

On the morning of April 29, 2020, I published “In Memory of LIN Zhao.” That night, two burly men in black, each weighing about 90 kilograms, ambushed me from a dark corner. When I tried to walk past, they tackled me to the ground without a word and held me down for a long time. When I was finally brought to the interrogation center, I saw that their T-shirts bore the words “Iron Head.”

有什么人权可言?——谢文飞的狱中见证

On May 28, 2022, I was transferred with 146 others from Zixing Detention Center to Chenzhou Detention Center. In cell 401, because I refused to squat, one thug suddenly slapped me across the face. Without hesitation, I kicked him back, but then several others ganged up and beat me. I had no choice but to fight back.

Then a man known as “Director Li” entered and, taking advantage of my defenselessness, slapped me again (though I had spent over six years in prison before, no officer had ever struck me). After he left, a group of at least seven or eight inmates, emboldened by his signal, swarmed over me. I was knocked down, beaten until dizzy, with my head throbbing in pain and swelling in several places, the world spinning before my eyes.

Deputy Director Li Mouhui took me to the interrogation room. I requested medical treatment and examination for my injuries, but he coldly refused. He then ordered me back to cell 401. I said, “Then just let them beat me to death.” He replied, “Killing a person here is no different from killing a dog. We wouldn’t even need to bury you — we’d just throw you into the crematory nearby.” That was the first time I realized how close I was to the cremation furnace.

Deputy Director Li ordered men to drag me to isolation cell 6011. When I woke up, I was lying on the concrete floor next to a puddle of water, my head against a toilet pit, my socks torn. Beside me was a small wooden bed fixed into the cement.

For days my head throbbed with unbearable pain, the swellings showing no sign of subsiding. For four consecutive days, I pressed the emergency button requesting a hospital visit, but was denied each time. I went on a three-day hunger strike in protest, to no avail. No one acknowledged that I had been beaten.

What human rights can there be?!

On May 30, 2023, I was transferred from Zixing Detention Center to Chenzhou Prison. Upon arrival, the fourteen of us from Zixing were ordered to strip naked and squat-jump together. I refused. Within an hour of arriving, I was locked in a 0.18-square-meter iron cage on the second floor of the intake center. It was 35°C indoors. For over eight hours, I had only a spoonful of water and no food. My clothes were drenched in sweat several times.

That night, I was placed in the “high-security zone” on the fifth floor — inside a 0.7-square-meter cage for two weeks, confined there more than 15 hours a day. For six consecutive days I was denied showers; for several days, water and toilet access were also forbidden. My hunger strike changed nothing.

In front of a dozen people, Section Chief Liang said, “Lock this man (pointing at me) tighter. Don’t give him water, don’t let him use the toilet. Just make sure he doesn’t die here.”

Furious, I demanded to be put on the “tiger bench.” Within two hours, my “wish” was granted. After less than ten minutes on it, my hands were swollen, and sweat poured from my head like rain.

When I was finally released from the bench hours later, my right hand remained numb for five days; my thumb could not move normally. Even two months later, it still tingled as if connected to a weak electric current.

What human rights can there be?!

On June 8, 2023, on a form the prison required me to fill out, I wrote:

“Since arriving at Chenzhou Prison on May 30, I have not been treated as a human being. Whether as a natural person, a prisoner, or even a political prisoner—no matter how grave the alleged crime—I still possess the most basic human rights. The dignity of each individual is part of the dignity of all humankind. Humanity’s collective dignity is the sum of each person’s dignity. Even if the prison aims to ‘reform’ people, it cannot do so at the cost of trampling upon or sacrificing human dignity.”

On June 25, 2023, I was transferred to Changsha Prison in Hunan Province. I was not allowed to bring in my two boxes of books—not even a single copy of Three Hundred Tang Poems or The Four Books with Zhu Xi’s Commentary. They called it a “zero-carry-in” policy—one of Warden Lei Jianhua’s so-called “innovative reforms,” an extreme display of his authoritarian control.

A 42-year-old prisoner from Liuzhou, Guangxi, who arrived at the Changsha Prison intake center the same day I did, died in early July. No one took responsibility. For nearly two months in the intake center, we were forbidden to read or write. I requested three times to borrow a copy of Records of the Grand Historian from the bookshelf, and each time I was refused.

After being transferred to the Fourth Prison Division on August 21, 2023, I was forced to the floor in the corridor for five consecutive days because I refused to squat without cause—“to set an example for others,” as they put it. On August 27, 2023, I was beaten by both inmates and police officers after refusing to sing a propaganda “red song.” Officer Xie, the tallest in the division, kicked me hard and said: “Since this is political, hitting you doesn’t count for anything. If you’re unhappy, go report it—to the disciplinary committee, the prosecutor, or even the warden. I don’t care where you complain!”

What human rights can there be?!

On August 29, 2023, I was denied access to the toilet for so long that when the collective “release” time came, it took me 20 minutes to urinate in broken intervals, like something was being forcibly pinched off.

That same day, a police officer verbally punished me: I was to receive only one-third to one-half the amount of hot water others got during the morning and afternoon supply times, and I was allowed to use the toilet only once in the morning and once in the afternoon. Fortunately, a somewhat compassionate supervisor known as “Mother Wu” did not strictly enforce it. A week later, my water supply was restored to “standard levels,” but the rule of allowing only two servings of hot water per day remained unchanged until my release on October 29, 2024. Nearly every morning and afternoon, I had to wait in painful thirst for two or three hours before I could drink. Even though my prostatitis worsened, I received no medical treatment. Between August 21 and December 30, 2023, I formally requested permission to use the toilet eight times; five of those were flatly denied.

What human rights can there be? We were treated worse than animals!

In fourteen months at Changsha Prison, I read only five books—fewer than what I had read in a single month at Heyuan Prison. Either I was forbidden to read, or I was too exhausted and overworked to do so. My six years of calligraphy practice were completely severed—I didn’t even touch a brush once.

As I wrote in a letter to Warden Lei—a letter that never received a reply—the moment my two boxes of books were stopped at the prison gate, my entire sentence in Changsha Prison was doomed to be a nightmare. For someone who had been reading for over a decade, if I could have books, I could endure even in hell; but if reading were forbidden, even paradise would feel like hell. I thank the prison’s education office: after being beaten by the police on March 3, 2024, and finding no place to complain, they handed me Francis Fukuyama’s Political Order and Political Decay on March 8. That book gradually brought me back to life.

In the thirteen months before the strict enforcement of the “9511” work regulation in August 2024, we averaged more than 60 hours of labor per week.

After the prison relocated to its new site on March 23, 2024, for more than a month we were forced to work extra shifts—I did once myself. In a team of over 170 people, dozens were compelled to do so daily. Those who failed to meet quotas were punished in various ways.

At the new site, in the name of maintaining “dining order,” meals were placed on stainless steel trays long before we were allowed to eat. By the time we sat down, the food was always cold. Even in March, when many sick inmates still wore winter coats, this practice continued. I complained multiple times—to no effect.

I remember when my family raised pigs years ago—even the pigs refused to eat cold swill; they were always fed warm food. And yet, as a human rights defender, I was reduced to a condition worse than that of pigs.

In 2020, before his second imprisonment, Xie Wenfei came to Hangzhou to visit Zhu Yufu

What human rights can there be?

Many people might say, “Doesn’t Article 7 of our Prison Law clearly stipulate that the rights of prisoners and their human dignity must be protected?” But I believe that anyone truly awake knows how far we still are from a rule-of-law society—if we are not, in fact, drifting farther away from it. Moreover, our warden, Lei, once declared publicly at a general meeting that we were “criminals,” the so-called “bad people” (on this point I solemnly protest, and I will demand that Warden Lei publicly admit his mistake when the time comes). He said we are here to be punished—and that Changsha Prison is already “too good,” the best in China and the finest in Hunan.He even joked that if the prison got any “better,” the less fortunate in society would, under Dickens’s inspiration, voluntarily come seek refuge in Changsha Prison. At that same meeting, Warden Lei instructed us, the prisoners, to always remember the “Three Questions of the Soul” written on the wall—questions that are the complete opposite of Kant’s three philosophical questions.

Thus, under Warden Lei’s so-called “brilliant leadership” and his ruthless intimidation, few dared to file complaints. Even if one tried, the result would be the same as mine: after being beaten, I wrote a letter to the prison’s resident prosecutor and another to request a meeting with my lawyer, Zhang Lei, to file a complaint—both letters were torn up right in front of me.

In China’s prisons—especially in our Changsha Prison—don’t speak to me of human rights!

This is the thunderous declaration of Changsha Prison itself!

As the French thinker Alexis de Tocqueville once said: “The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.” How true these words are!

— Written by human rights defender XIE, Wenfei, at the risk of his life, on World Human Rights Day, 2024.

《<新阶级>:共产体制下的新统治集团》

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作者:叶长青(大陆学生)
编辑:李之洋 责任编辑:胡丽莉 校对:熊辩 翻译:彭小梅

吉拉斯出生于黑山的一个农民家庭。18岁考入贝尔格莱德大学,期间接触马克思主义并加入左翼社团,1932年加入南斯拉夫共产党。到1940年代,他已成为中央政治局委员,并在50年代初期被视为铁托的接班人。

1948年,南斯拉夫坚持走自己的“民族社会主义道路”(national path),与苏联在对外政策、意识形态、对斯大林的态度等方面彻底分裂。分裂后,吉拉斯依然信仰社会主义,但他逐渐看到体制内部的腐败与僵化:官僚主义、特权阶层、党内集权、对批评的压制。1953年他出任国家主席,1954年因主张政治自由化而被撤职。1956年,他因公开支持匈牙利事件被捕入狱,期间将《新阶级》手稿秘密送往国外出版,从此成为共产主义世界的异端与思想先驱。

一、思想起源(Origins)

吉拉斯首先追溯共产主义思想的根源。他指出,唯物主义、辩证法、历史决定论等并非马克思主义独有,而是被共产党人“独占化”为一种“唯一科学”,以此为政治统治提供合法性。共产主义运动在现代化当中,将这些哲学原理说成是“唯一科学”以此为政治统治提供正当性。

在实践中,这些理论逐渐被教条化,成为维护制度与权力的工具。

二、革命的性质(Character of the Revolution)

与资产阶级革命不同,共产主义革命不仅夺取政权,还要重塑社会和经济体系。这使得革命政党不仅成为政治力量,也成为社会治理力量。

革命政党在夺权后,变成同时控制政治与社会的“全能力量”,倾向于集中化、排斥异己、消灭多元,以及政治与经济力量的高度融合。革命后的权力结构中往往会剥夺政治多元性、排斥非党派力量,由党对社会进行全面控制。

三、“新阶级”的形成(The New Class)

这是全书的核心。吉拉斯在这里正式提出“新阶级”(the new class)的概念。他把新阶级理解为:一群占据党政机关的官僚与管理者,他们通过对国家机器的控制,实际掌握了资源、分配权、特权,是一个新的统治集团。在他看来,这个新阶级既不同于传统资本家阶级(因为他们不以私人资本为基础),也不同于无产阶级,他们以“集体政治控制”作为他们的“财产权形式”。

吉拉斯提出:“新阶级”是由党政官僚与管理者组成的统治集团,他们通过掌控国家机器与资源分配,形成一种新的特权阶层。

他分析新阶级如何通过国家结构获得“所有权”形式的权力(即:控制、支配国家资源的权力),而这个权力结构本身就是一种“财产”。

他们不靠私人资本,而是通过“政治控制”取得“所有权形式的权力”。这种权力本身成为他们的“财产”。结果是,名义上的“全民所有”,实质上变成“新阶级所有”。还阐明这个阶级如何在资源分配、待遇、社会地位上不断积累特权,并与大众逐渐分离。

四、党—国家体制(The Party State)

吉拉斯揭示共产党如何通过党国合一来维系统治。分析共产党如何通过党组织与国家机器合一来巩固其统治,党与国家的界限被淡化或合并,党控制行政、军队、安全、意识形态,国家机构仅成附属。

还讨论党的层级制度、干部任命机制、党对行政、意识形态、军事与安全机构的渗透和监督。他指出,在共产主义国家中,党往往成为国家运作的核心,党的决策几乎主导国家机构的全部运作。在这种体制下,表面上的法律、机构、行政分权常常只是形式,真正权力在党内部和党的核心结构中掌握。

五、经济的教条主义(Dogmatism in the Economy)

计划经济在理想上平等,但在实践中僵化、低效。吉拉斯重点在于分析社会主义经济制度中的僵化性(dogmatism)。他认为计划经济、国有化和集中化管理容易固化为教条体系。

吉拉斯批评经济决策常常以意识形态为依据,而不顾效率、创新、市场信号、需求关系等。

虽然名义上生产资料归“全民所有”,但实际上控制权掌握在新阶级手中。普通民众缺乏参与与监督权。

社会缺乏反馈机制与创新动力,资源浪费普遍。在这种制度里,经济体制缺乏弹性与反馈机制,资源分配常出现失误、浪费、扭曲。

六、思想的专制(Tyranny over the Mind)

在意识形态领域,共产党实行全面控制。吉拉斯探讨了意识形态、宣传、文化、教育等对思想控制的机制。

宣传、教育、媒体、文化都被纳入党的领导。 他指出,在共产制度下,思想自由、言论自由、异议、批判等都受到严格限制,党通过宣传、教育、媒体、文化机构支配公共思想领域。

思想自由、言论自由、批判精神被视为“危险思想”。他分析了“思想工作”(ideological work)如何被制度化为一种权力工具,用来维系统治合法性并削弱异议力量。思想工作成为政治统治的工具,知识分子被监控与驯化。

他还强调,思想控制不仅是宣传灌输,还包括组织、惩戒不合规的思想、监控知识分子等机制。

七、目的与手段(The Aim and the Means)

吉拉斯讨论目的与手段之间的关系以及其在新阶级体制中的扭曲。吉拉斯批判那种“目的正当化一切手段”的逻辑——以“人民利益”“社会主义建设”之名行压制与暴力之实。他批判这样一种逻辑:只要目的被视为“正当”(例如“社会主义”“人民利益”),那么几乎所有手段(包括压制、剥夺权利、操控制度)都可以被合法化。

在这种逻辑下,法治与责任被掏空,权力缺乏约束,体制走向自我封闭。 在他看来,这种“目的正当化手段”的逻辑,是新阶级体制滥用权力、法制失灵、责任缺失的基础。他还指出,在这种体制下,监督与制衡机制被边缘化或虚化,权力几乎无约束。

八、本质(The Essence)

吉拉斯对新阶级制度的结构和矛盾进行更抽象和系统的总结。他总结新阶级制度的核心矛盾:权力越集中,合法性越脆弱;特权越多,体制越不稳。他揭示了新阶级体制的内在矛盾:权力集中化导致合法性危机、特权化、统治不稳、危机脆弱性等。

新阶级倾向维护自身利益,压制异议、控制信息、阻止改革。他认为,新阶级的权力结构具有“自我维护”特征:为了保全自身,它倾向压制异己、控制信息、限制权力更替。

这种自我维护机制最终导致体制僵化与衰败。他指出,制度为了维持自身而变得越来越集权、封闭,不利于内部改革或自我调整。

九、民族共产主义(National Communism)

吉拉斯分析“民族化”的社会主义变体。他关注社会主义/共产主义在不同国家语境下的“民族化”或本土变体。他分析“民族共产主义”(national communism)如何被利用于不同国家保持统治合法性,同时作为一种对苏联模式的调整或抵抗策略。

各国共产党以民族主义包装体制,以维持合法性和独立性。但“民族共产主义”往往只是权力集团的另一种掩饰形式,无法触及体制根本问题。他指出,这种民族化可能给体制一定的合法性、认受性和自主空间,但也可能被用于掩盖统治集团的特权和权力集中。他还展望了不同国家(尤其东欧、南斯拉夫、中东欧)的“民族化”变体可能带来的张力与局限性。

十、今日世界(The Present-Day World)

在最后一章里,吉拉斯将目光投向全球。将他的分析置于更广阔的国际与时代背景中,讨论共产主义体系在当时世界(20世纪中叶)所面对的挑战、危机与可能的发展。

他考察社会主义国家在全球政治中的竞争、合法性危机、制度疲弱以及新阶级体系所面临的内外压力。他看到社会主义国家在冷战中的危机:合法性削弱、经济停滞、思想封闭。

他认为,如果体制无法开放与自我修复,终将走向崩溃。他对未来的可能路径(改革、瓦解、替代)做出思考,同时指出新阶级体制在国际冷战格局中的弱点。

🕊 结语

吉拉斯在良知与权力之间,选择了良知。他本可享有权力与荣耀,却选择揭露体制的真相,付出自由的代价。

像所有敢于对抗权力、坚持真理的思想者一样,他让世界更接近自由与清醒。

正因有这样的灵魂,人类社会才得以不断前行。

我们应该铭记吉拉斯这些选择良心的英雄,他们不该被遗忘,正是因为有了他们的存在,才推动了人类社会的进步。

“The New Class”: The Emerging Ruling Group Under Communist Regimes

By Changqing Ye (Mainland Student)
Edited by Zhiyang Li, Proofread by Lili Hu and Bian Xiong Translated by Xiaomei Peng

Milovan Djilas was born into a peasant family in Montenegro. At 18, he entered the University of Belgrade, where he came into contact with Marxism and joined left-wing student circles. In 1932, he became a member of the Communist Party of Yugoslavia. By the 1940s, he had risen to the Politburo, and by the early 1950s, he was widely regarded as Tito’s successor.

In 1948, Yugoslavia insisted on pursuing its own national path of socialism, breaking with the Soviet Union completely over foreign policy, ideology, and attitudes toward Stalin. Even after the split, Djilas remained a believer in socialism. Yet over time, he saw the corruption, rigidity, and hypocrisy within the system: bureaucratism, privilege, centralization, and suppression of dissent. In 1953, he became President of the State, but a year later was dismissed for advocating political liberalization. In 1956, he was imprisoned for openly supporting the Hungarian uprising. While in prison, he secretly sent the manuscript of The New Class abroad for publication, thus becoming an ideological heretic and a moral pioneer in the communist world.

I. Origins

Djilas traced the philosophical roots of communism. He argued that materialism, dialectics, and historical determinism were not unique to Marxism, but the Communists monopolized these ideas, branding them as the only science to legitimize their political rule.

In practice, these philosophical doctrines became dogmas—tools for defending the system and consolidating power.

II. The Character of the Revolution

Unlike bourgeois revolutions, communist revolutions did not merely seize political power—they sought to reshape the entire social and economic structure. Thus, the revolutionary party became not only a political force but also the central administrative and social power.

After seizing power, the revolutionary party evolved into an all-encompassing authority that controlled both politics and society. It tended toward centralization, exclusion of pluralism, and the fusion of political and economic power. Political diversity was abolished, and non-party forces were marginalized or eliminated.

III. The Formation of the “New Class”

This is the core of The New Class. Djilas defined the “new class” as a group of bureaucrats and administrators occupying positions in the party and state apparatus, who, through their control of the machinery of power, had become a new ruling stratum.

This class differed from both the bourgeoisie and the proletariat:they did not own private capital but instead possessed collective political control, which functioned as a new form of property.

The “new class,” through its command of the state, exercised ownership-like power over national resources. This control—though officially justified as “public ownership”—became, in substance, the property of the new class.

Djilas showed how this group accumulated privilege through resource distribution, material benefits, and social hierarchy, gradually distancing itself from the ordinary people in whose name it ruled.

IV. The Party–State System

Djilas exposed how communist parties maintained their dominance through the fusion of party and state. The party and government apparatus became inseparable: the party controlled the administration, the military, security, and ideology, reducing the state to a mere subsidiary organ.

He analyzed the hierarchy of the party structure, the system of cadre appointment, and the pervasive penetration of the party into all state institutions. Under such a system, legal institutions and administrative divisions were often mere façades—the real power resided in the inner core of the party.

V. Dogmatism in the Economy

In theory, planned economies were built on equality; in practice, they became rigid and inefficient. Djilas criticized the socialist economy for its dogmatism: economic decisions were made according to ideological correctness rather than practical effectiveness.

While ownership of the means of production was nominally “public,” control was monopolized by the new class. Ordinary citizens had no right of participation or oversight. Lacking feedback and innovation, socialist economies suffered from waste, distortion, and stagnation.

VI. Tyranny over the Mind

In the realm of ideology, the Communist Party exercised total control. Djilas explored the mechanisms through which ideology, propaganda, culture, and education were used to dominate human thought.

Propaganda, education, media, and the arts were all brought under the Party’s leadership. He observed that under the communist system, freedom of thought, freedom of speech, dissent, and critical inquiry were all strictly suppressed. Through its control of propaganda, education, cultural institutions, and the press, the Party dominated the entire sphere of public consciousness.

Freedom of thought, freedom of expression, and the spirit of criticism were labeled as dangerous ideas. Djilas analyzed how “ideological work” was institutionalized as an instrument of power—used to sustain political legitimacy and to weaken the forces of dissent. Ideological work thus became a tool of political domination; intellectuals were monitored, disciplined, and domesticated.

He further emphasized that thought control was not limited to propaganda or indoctrination. It also involved organizational mechanisms for punishing nonconforming ideas and systematic surveillance of the intellectual class.In this way, the regime sought not only to shape people’s words, but to regulate the very process of thinking itself.

VII. The Aim and the Means

Djilas explored how communist regimes distorted the relationship between ends and means. He condemned the logic that “the ends justify the means”—that any act, no matter how repressive or violent, could be justified in the name of “the people’s interest” or “socialist construction.”

This moral inversion hollowed out the rule of law and accountability. Power became unrestrained; systems turned inward and self-serving. Under such reasoning, supervision and checks were rendered meaningless, and despotism became self-perpetuating.

VIII. The Essence

Djilas provided a more abstract and systematic summary of the structure and contradictions of the new-class system. He identified its central paradox: the more concentrated the power, the weaker its legitimacy; the greater the privilege, the more unstable the regime. He revealed the internal contradictions of the new-class order— that political centralization inevitably breeds a crisis of legitimacy, that privilege produces fragility rather than strength, and that the system’s very success in consolidating power becomes the seed of its decline.

The new class, by its nature, seeks above all to preserve its own interests. It suppresses dissent, monopolizes information, and obstructs reform. Djilas argued that the power structure of this class possesses a built-in self-preserving character: to safeguard itself, it instinctively moves to silence opposition, control information, and restrict the rotation of power.

This mechanism of self-preservation ultimately leads to stagnation and decay. The system, in its effort to perpetuate itself, becomes increasingly centralized and closed, thereby losing the capacity for reform or self-correction. In the end, what began as a revolution of liberation turns into a structure of confinement.

IX. National Communism

Djilas analyzes the “nationalization” of socialist variants. He focuses on how socialism or communism becomes “nationalized” or localized within different national contexts. He examines how national communism has been used by various countries to maintain regime legitimacy while simultaneously serving as an adjustment to—or resistance against—the Soviet model.

Communist parties in different nations often wrapped their systems in nationalism to preserve both legitimacy and independence. However, Djilas points out that national communism frequently functions merely as another disguise for the ruling elite, unable to address the system’s fundamental flaws. He notes that this nationalization may grant the regime a degree of legitimacy, acceptance, and autonomy, yet it can also be exploited to conceal the privileges and concentration of power within the ruling class. Finally, he considers the tensions and limitations that such nationalized variants may produce in different regions—especially in Eastern Europe, Yugoslavia, and Central and Eastern Europe.

X. The Present-Day World

In the final chapter, Djilas turned his gaze to the global stage. He placed his analysis within a broader historical and international context, exploring the challenges, crises, and potential futures faced by communist systems in the mid-twentieth century.

He examined the political competition, crises of legitimacy, institutional weakness, and internal and external pressures confronting socialist states. Djilas observed that during the Cold War, communist regimes were already showing deep structural fatigue: their legitimacy was eroding, their economies stagnating, and their intellectual life closing in on itself.

He warned that any system unable to open itself or renew from within would inevitably collapse. Djilas contemplated the possible paths ahead—reform, disintegration, or complete replacement—and underscored the inherent fragility of the new-class structure within the global Cold War order.

Epilogue

Between conscience and power, Djilas chose conscience. He could have lived in privilege and glory, yet he chose to expose the truth—and paid the price with his freedom.

Like all thinkers who dared to confront tyranny and stand by truth, he brought the world closer to freedom and clarity. It is because of such souls that human civilization continues to move forward.

We must remember these heroes of conscience. They should never be forgotten, for it is through their courage and sacrifice that the progress of humanity endures.

家乡的堡子

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作者:何愚 翻译:彭小梅

家乡的堡子
就像簸箕中的田螺
有时盘旋在山顶
有时坐落在水泉的上头

小时候
它是我心中的王国
高大的城墙上
站满了卫兵

如今
它已把我忘了
就像城市忘记了战败的国王

如今
我已失去了它
我要为它做一次隆重的葬礼

何愚 寫於 4 /2 /2020

My Hometown’s Fort

Author: He Yu. Translator: Peng Xiaomei


The fort of my hometown
is like a snail in a winnowing pan—
sometimes winding atop the hills,
sometimes sitting above a spring.

In childhood,
it was my kingdom;
the tall city walls
were crowded with guards.

Now,
it has forgotten me,
just as a city forgets
its fallen king.

Now,
I have lost it too.
I want to hold a grand funeral
for it once more.

by Yu He April 2, 2020

美国是世界民主的灯塔

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作者:时机 2025年10月12日
编辑:钟然 责任编辑:罗志飞 翻译:刘芳

第二次世界大战中,美国弹压下日本,使日本无条件投降;接着,是四国占领德国。苏联占东德,法国占鲁尔地区,英国占一部分,美国占一部分。美国不是将德占区的德国人往死里整,他们知道:共产主义是要把红旗插遍全世界,是要消灭资本主义制度。 而美园是要拯救自由世界,拯救资本主义制度。美国每天用军用飞机运送一千多吨物资到占领区,当时抓经济的是艾哈德,总理是阿登纳,两人配合默契,他们搞的是市场经济,也就是资本主义。市场经济能调动一切人的积极性,德国人很争气,1990年10月3日就全德统一了。当德国还在恢复元气的过程中,他们就知道教育的重要性,当各行各业没涨工资的时候,教师队伍却连涨几级工资,使各行各业无数优秀的人才涌入到教师队伍,见《第四帝国》一书,这就奠定了德国工业的强大基础。德国的领土面积只有35万多平方千米,人口有近9000万人。他们生活得既尊严又幸福。他们没有绝对贫困者,他们实行的是高税收制,即所谓的“劫富济贫”。

例如:你每月的收入是5875欧元,你要缴纳42%的税,你本身还有3355.3欧元,另外上公立学校不要钱,医疗不要钱,他们许多人是租房,因为租房很便宜。他们的福利很诱人。

所谓贫困者的日收入为160欧元(约合人民币1200元),高收入者日收入366.69欧元(约合人民币2750.175元),两者相差只2.29倍。而中国的地铁零时工每月只有2500元,还不包吃住,

除去4天休息,每天只有96元,合每小时12元。扫地的环卫工(农民工)也一样。工资太低,使中国正常男人3~4千万人或4~5千万人找不到老婆,因贫困而每天自杀者不知有多少?这只是中德的一个对比。

朝鲜战争,是北韩金日成首先挑起的,如果不是美国为首带领16国拯救南韩,南韩便没有今日之富强。南北韩最终还是以三八线分界。当年美国放出狠话:朝鲜若不仍依三八线划界的话,美国就要动用核武器,中共看美国要动真格的了,也不敢强抗,只得乖乖的还是依原先的三八线划界。

美国是个开放型的国家,在韩战中,日本趁机崛起,也迅速成了一个发达的工业国家。

美国的华盛顿总统开创了不连任三任总统的好先例。

林肯总统为了拯救南部的黑人奴隶,发表了《解放宣言》。现在,全世界的国家都向美国看齐,美国成了世界民主的灯塔,只有少数十几个国家搞独裁专制,独裁专制国家是不得人心的,必定会消亡。

The United States Is the Beacon of Democracy in the World

Author: SHI Ji October 12, 2025
Editor: ZHONG Ran Executive Editor: LUO Zhifei Translator: LIU Fang

During World War II, the United States suppressed Japan and forced its unconditional surrender; afterward, Germany was occupied by four powers. The Soviet Union held East Germany, France the Ruhr, Britain a portion, and the United States a portion. In the U.S. zone, America did not torment the Germans to death; it understood that communism aimed to plant the red flag across the world and to eliminate the capitalist system, whereas the United States sought to save the free world and preserve capitalism. The U.S. flew over a thousand tons of supplies daily by military aircraft into its occupation zone. At that time Ludwig Erhard was in charge of the economy and Chancellor Konrad Adenauer worked seamlessly with him; what they pursued was a market economy—that is, capitalism. A market economy can mobilize everyone’s initiative, and the Germans rose to the occasion; by October 3, 1990, Germany achieved national reunification. Even while Germany was still recovering, they already recognized the importance of education: when wages in many sectors had not increased, teachers received several consecutive raises, drawing countless outstanding talents from various fields into education (see the book The Fourth Empire). This laid the strong foundation for Germany’s industry. Germany’s territory is just over 350,000 square kilometers with nearly 90 million people. They live with both dignity and happiness. There is no absolute poverty; they practice a high-tax system—the so-called “taking from the rich to aid the poor.”

For example: if your monthly income is 5,875 euros, you pay 42% in taxes and still retain 3,355.3 euros. In addition, public schooling costs nothing, medical care costs nothing, and many people rent housing because renting is inexpensive. Their social benefits are very attractive.

The so-called poor have a daily income of 160 euros (about 1,200 RMB), while high-income earners make 366.69 euros per day (about 2,750.175 RMB)—a gap of only 2.29 times. By contrast, temporary subway workers in China earn only 2,500 RMB per month, with no room and board included.

Subtracting four days of rest, that is only 96 RMB per day, or 12 RMB per hour. The same is true for street-sweeping sanitation workers (migrant workers). Wages are so low that 30–40 million, or even 40–50 million, ordinary Chinese men cannot find a wife; how many take their own lives daily due to poverty is unknown. This is just one comparison between China and Germany.

The Korean War was first provoked by North Korea’s Kim Il-sung. Had the United States not led sixteen nations to rescue South Korea, the South would not enjoy today’s prosperity and strength. In the end the two Koreas remained divided along the 38th parallel. Back then, the United States issued a harsh warning: if Korea did not continue to demarcate along the 38th parallel, America would use nuclear weapons. Seeing that the U.S. meant business, the Chinese Communist regime did not dare to resist forcefully and had to submit to the original 38th-parallel demarcation.

The United States is an open country; during the Korean War, Japan seized the opportunity to rise and swiftly became a developed industrial nation.

President George Washington of the United States set a good precedent by not seeking a third term.

President Abraham Lincoln, to save Black slaves in the South, issued the Emancipation Proclamation. Today, nations around the world look to the United States; America has become the beacon of democracy in the world. Only a small dozen or so countries still practice dictatorship and despotism—regimes that win no popular support and are destined to perish.

《在野党》接收的款项信息(复刊—2025年9月)

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姓名 金额(USD)

ANG ZHU $100.00

CHANGBING YANG 杨长兵 $200.00

CONGLING LI 李聪玲 $200.00

CUNZHU ZHENG 郑存柱 $1,500.00

DONGLIANG SHEN $120.00

FEIHZOU MENG 孟飞舟 $50.00

FENG LU 吕峰 $150.00

FUDE LI 黎富德 $50.00

GANG ZHENG 郑刚 $50.00

GUANGMANG LI 李光芒 $300.00

HAINING HU 胡海宁 $100.00

HAOWEI SHI 史浩伟 $300.00

HUAN ZHAO 赵欢 $100.00

HUIWEN LU 鲁慧文 $100.00

JIANWEI LI 李建伟 $300.00

JIANXUN LI 李建寻 $100.00

JIE ZHAO 赵杰 $100.00

JIEXIAO WEI 韦洁筱 $50.00

JINBIAO LAI 来金彪 $1,000.00

JINBO CHEN 陈锦波 $100.00

JINGHUI CHEN 辰景辉 $4,000.00

JIZHOU HUANG 黄吉州 $100.00

JUE YUAN 袁崛 $100.00

JUNHONG ZHOU 周君红 $100.00

LINGYAN XIAO 肖玲燕 $50.00

LINLI XIAO 肖琳丽 $50.00

LUJUN QUAN 权录军 $100.00

MIN ZHENG 郑敏 $89.64

MING GAO 高明 $100.00

QIANKUN LU 陆乾坤 $111.25

QINGMEI SHI 史庆梅 $700.00

QUNLAN ZENG 曾群兰 $189.64

RAN ZHONG 钟然 $100.00

RENG FENG 冯仍 $100.00

RONGHUA PAN 潘荣华 $1,000.00

RONGXIN ZHANG 张荣鑫 $200.00

SHAOHAI LAO 劳绍海 $50.00

SIBO HUANG 黄思博 $50.00

TING CHEN 陈婷 $66.00

WEI ZHENG 郑伟 $89.64

WENJUN XIAN 鲜文君 $150.00

XIAOGUANG WANG 王晓光 $200.00

XIAOYAN ZHU 朱晓砚 $100.00

XINHU LU 卢新虎 $100.00

XINNAN CHEN 陈信男 $100.00

YANGYANG LIU 刘洋洋 $100.00

YU HE 何愚 $400.00

YU KANG 康余 $100.00

YUNHUI GE $100.00

YUREN LI 李裕仁 $300.00

ZHIFEI LUO 罗志飞 $400.00

ZHIJUN ZHANG 张致君 $100.00

ZIRU WU 吴字儒 $20.00

ZUNFU WANG 王尊福 $120.00

无名氏 $100.00

陈先生 $5,000.00

2025年中国迎来近些年最穷“黄金周”

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——浅谈政治制度是经济制度的基因

作者:鲁慧文
编辑:李之洋 责任编辑:罗志飞 校对:熊辩

2025年中国国庆黄金周到今天就结束了,这大概是自从有了“黄金周”这种说法以来,第一次反差如此强烈的国庆节——出行人次是近年来新高,经济收益却创下新低。从全年经济高峰期的“黄金周”直接跌入谷底,来得十分突然,没有任何征兆。无论是商家、国家、媒体,还是整个旅游行业,都被打得措手不及,毫无应对之力。

全国各大旅游城市依照惯例在黄金周上调酒店房价,这也是历年的常规操作。景区也提前做好准备,整个旅游行业都计划趁此机会“开门迎客”,狠狠挣一笔,把上半年经济低迷的损失趁热弥补回来。然而,大家都扑了个空。今年的游客像是商量好了一样——“趁机涨价的酒店?那就让它空着吧。”于是满街都是帐篷,一眼望去像加沙难民营,连成一片。景区门票超过20元的就不进去了,在大门口打卡拍照就算完事;饭店也不去了,要么泡面,要么点个便宜外卖。总之,大家像是达成了共识:绝对不掏钱。而在这种“不约而同”的行为背后,我看到了一丝希望——那就是,越来越多的人清醒过来了。

这种“躺平式”或者“对抗式”旅行模式,今后也将更多体现在普通民众日常生活的方方面面。这背后,反映的是政治制度与经济制度之间深层次的逻辑关系。虽然许多普通人未必能清晰地表达出来,但人是有感知的生物。如今在中国社会,哪怕是最普通的老百姓,也已经感觉到经济不会再上行了——大白话说,就是“没有希望了”。

这种“没有希望”的悲观情绪,正蔓延到社会的每一个角落。人们开始抛售房产(北京十几万元一平米的房子近期甚至有一折出售的),开始不结婚(越来越多的年轻人说“就到我这一代吧”),不生孩子,不卷孩子,不追求上大学(拿到录取通知书却选择不去读的人数比往年更多),不去电影院(今年黄金周电影院异常冷清)。越来越多的人觉得拼多多都贵了,越来越多的人被列入失信名单,一种深沉的绝望笼罩着整个社会。一个信仰来生的民族,如今却苦笑着说:“下辈子我不来了。”

有学者表示,中国经济目前已经回到了1999年的水平,而这还远未到谷底。这无疑是个悲伤的消息。但中国经济的衰退,是无法阻挡、也无法逆转的。这艘建立在全民廉价劳动力基础上的经济巨轮,就像当年的泰坦尼克号——人们只能在惊恐中亲眼看着它坠入深海。

中国经济走到今天的地步,表面上看,是习近平领导无能,中国与美国经济脱钩、外企撤出、青年失业等多重因素造成的(这些当然是助推器),但更深层的原因在于政治制度的“基因”决定了结果。它并非一个错误的经济方案,也不是某个班子方向不对,而是从制度的基因上就注定了短寿。政治制度,是经济制度的基因。

当今世界主要存在两种政治制度:一种是民主制度(目前世界主要发达国家普遍采用),另一种是集权制度,也就是人们常说的独裁或中央集权制。政治制度的核心,其实就是社会资源如何分配的机制。民主国家的政治制度保障财产私有,强调公平分配社会经济成果,建立在民主、人权与相对公平的基础上运作。而独裁国家则是压榨型制度,每一层都尽可能吸走下层的经济收益,层层盘剥,最终使全民经济成果集中到最上层,也就是人们常说的“2%的人拿走98%的财富,98%的人分享剩下的2%”。上层只给下层留下一点“续命钱”,确保他们活着继续为上层创造更多经济价值。

这种制度自古如此。古代有“普天之下,莫非王土”,全国土地、经济、粮食、珠宝,皆归统治者所有。这种中央集权制度自秦朝延续至今。结合现代高科技,中共更是集历代之大成,通过人口红利、极低的劳动报酬和极长的工时,使中国成为全球第二大经济体。然而,中共的分配制度又将最大量的经济收益聚敛于自身,只留下一点生存口粮给底层劳工延续生命。再辅以宏大叙事,让世界看到一个“繁荣的中国”,也让几代人相信“中国会越来越好”。于是人们吃苦耐劳,发明了“996”“007”,拼命读书、拼命工作,相信“爱拼才会赢”“明天会更好”。

然而,当这种压榨型集权制度发展到极致,必然更加变本加厉。疫情之后,中国底层经济被彻底抽空,甚至连维持生存的口粮也被夺走。人们终于意识到——原来不是越努力越幸运。原来那些上层社会的人可以不上班领工资,公务员坐牢也有工资,烟草局退休职工月退休金高达一万九,是普通人工资的数倍;原来自己交的社保是养别人的父母;原来大学毕业要去送外卖;原来“那茜”200分就能特招进名校;原来国有单位是家族世袭……越来越多的事实让老百姓明白,自己只是牛马,社会的财富与自己无关。

于是人们不再看新闻联播,不再相信国家通报,看清自己的生命、财产、工作都可随时被剥夺,看到法律的虚无,看到正义的失声——他们失望了,然后绝望了。

是的,这不是一两次经济政策失误的结果。底层的命运早已刻在中共集权的政治制度里。统治者攫取社会最多的财富,盛世时给底层留一口气;乱世或衰退时,连口粮也不留。这就是这种制度的本质。别忘了,在所谓“自然灾害时期”,全国饿死四千多万人,而毛泽东每日仍有红烧肉。

人们必须明白:想要活命,想要生存权,必须废除这种压榨型政治制度,推翻中共专制体制,推翻中央集权,让人民重新掌握生路。

2025 Sees China’s Poorest “Golden Week” in Recent Years

— On How the Political System Is the Genetic Code of the Economic System

Author: Lu Huiwen 
Editor: Li Zhiyang Executive Editor: Luo Zhifei Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Liu Fang

The 2025 National Day “Golden Week” in China has just ended, and this is perhaps the first time since the term “Golden Week” was coined that the contrast has been so stark—record-high travel numbers, yet record-low economic returns. What should have been the annual economic peak suddenly plunged into the trough, without any warning. Businesses, the state, the media, and the entire tourism industry were caught completely off guard, unable to respond.

As usual, hotels across major tourist cities raised prices during the Golden Week—standard practice for years. Scenic spots also prepared in advance, expecting to “open their doors wide” and earn big, making up for the economic slump earlier in the year. Yet everyone miscalculated. This year’s tourists seemed to have silently agreed: “Hotels raising prices? Then let them stay empty.” Streets were full of tents—stretching like refugee camps in Gaza. Tickets costing over 20 yuan? No one went in—just taking photos at the gate was enough. Restaurants were deserted—people either ate instant noodles or ordered cheap takeout. It’s as if everyone reached an unspoken agreement: spend nothing. And behind this “collective refusal” lies a glimmer of hope: more and more people are waking up.

This kind of “lying-flat” or “resistive” travel will increasingly reflect itself in every aspect of ordinary life. Behind it lies the deep logic connecting the political system and the economic system. Many may not be able to articulate it clearly, but people can feel it. Even the most ordinary Chinese citizens now sense that the economy will not rise again—in plain terms, “there is no hope.”

That sense of hopelessness is spreading across every corner of society. People are selling off their properties (in Beijing, apartments once selling for hundreds of thousands of yuan per square meter are now going for 10% of that). They are not getting married (“It ends with my generation,” many young people say). They are not having children. They are not forcing their kids to compete. Some who receive university admission letters choose not to enroll. Cinemas are empty this holiday season. More people think even Pinduoduo is expensive. More people are on credit blacklists. A deep despair covers the nation. A people who once believed in the afterlife now wryly say: “I’m not coming back in my next life.”

Scholars have noted that China’s economy has now fallen back to the level of 1999—and this is still not the bottom. It is a sad reality. But China’s economic decline is both irreversible and inevitable. The economic giant built on cheap labor is like the Titanic—people can only watch in horror as it sinks into the abyss.

On the surface, China’s current collapse appears to be caused by Xi Jinping’s incompetence, the decoupling from the U.S., the withdrawal of foreign companies, and massive youth unemployment (which all played a part), but the deeper cause lies in the genetic code of the political system. It is not merely a failed economic plan or a misguided administration—it is that the system itself was born to die young. The political system is the genetic code of the economic system.

Today’s world has two main political systems: Democracy (used by most developed countries), and Authoritarianism (centralized dictatorship). At its core, a political system determines how resources are distributed. Democratic systems protect private property, emphasize fair distribution of economic gains, and operate on democracy, human rights, and relative fairness. Authoritarian systems, on the other hand, are extractive: each level of power drains wealth from the level below it—layer upon layer of exploitation—until most of the national wealth accumulates at the top. As the saying goes: “2% of people own 98% of the wealth, while 98% of people share the remaining 2%.” The top leaves the bottom only enough “survival money” to keep them alive and productive.

This has always been the nature of such regimes. In ancient China, “All under heaven belongs to the emperor”—land, wealth, grain, and jewels all belonged to the ruler. This centralized authoritarianism has continued since the Qin dynasty. In modern times, with advanced technology, the CCP has perfected this ancient model. Through its vast population, ultra-low wages, and extremely long working hours, it turned China into the world’s second-largest economy. Yet the Party’s distribution mechanism concentrated nearly all wealth in its own hands, leaving workers only subsistence crumbs to stay alive. With grand propaganda, it made the world see a “prosperous China” and made generations believe “China is rising.” So people worked tirelessly—believing “hard work brings fortune” and “tomorrow will be better.”

But when an extractive authoritarian system reaches its limit, it becomes even more ruthless. After COVID, China’s grassroots economy was drained dry—even basic survival rations were taken away. People finally realized: hard work doesn’t lead to luck. They saw that elites could get paid without working, that jailed officials still received salaries, that tobacco bureau retirees get 19,000 yuan monthly pensions (several times a normal worker’s pay); they realized their social security contributions were feeding others’ parents; that university graduates now deliver takeout; that “Na Qian” could enter elite universities with 200 points; that state-owned enterprises are inherited like family property. More and more people have awakened to the truth: They are just oxen and horses. The nation’s wealth has nothing to do with them.

People stopped watching state news, stopped believing official statements. They saw their life, property, and jobs could be seized anytime. They saw laws as empty words, justice as voiceless. They lost faith—then they lost hope.

Indeed, this is not the result of a few bad economic policies. The fate of the working class has long been encoded in the CCP’s centralized political system. The rulers seize the nation’s wealth, leaving crumbs in good times; in decline, they take even those crumbs away. That is the nature of the system. Never forget: during the so-called “natural disaster years,” over 40 million starved, while Mao still had his daily portion of braised pork.

People must understand: To survive—to live as human beings—they must abolish this exploitative political structure, overthrow the CCP’s authoritarian regime, and dismantle centralization, so that the people can once again take hold of their own means of living.

一名医护的时代见证

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一名医护的时代见证

作者:张宇
编辑:李聪玲   责任编辑:罗志飞   校对:程筱筱   翻译:吕峰

张宇,一名经历武汉疫情的医护人员,讲述了在疫情封控期间的遭遇,以及来到美国后的感受。

余谨以至诚

于上主及会众面前宣誓,

终身纯洁

忠贞职守

尽力提高护理专业标准,

勿为有损之事,

勿取服或故用有害之药,

慎守病人及家务之秘密,

竭诚协助医师之诊治,

务谋病者之福利。

——南丁格尔誓言

我常常梦见那座城市。

梦里的天空灰白一片,街道空无一人,只有救护车的警笛声在空气里盘旋。那是我工作了十年的地方,武汉市某著名的三甲医院,曾经充满了忙碌与希望。可那一年,空气里弥漫的不是消毒水的味道,而是一种看不见的恐惧。

我常常梦见那段日子。

我们穿着厚重的防护服,一天又一天地奔走在病房与走廊之间。脸上的口罩勒出深痕,眼睛干涩到流泪。每一位倒下的病人,都是一个家庭的崩塌。我们用尽全力去救治,可有时连告别的机会都没有。

我记得那时的自己还相信——只要竭尽所能,总会有光。但慢慢地,我发现有些东西比病毒更毒。有些问题不能问,有些真相不能说。人们要学会沉默,学会服从,学会用忙碌掩盖内心的不安。从那一刻,我第一次感到一种深深的背叛——不是别人背叛我,而是我所信仰的誓言,被现实一点点侵蚀。

那一天的风很冷,我在急诊室里看到窗外的光一点点暗下去,那是2020年1月23日,武汉,这座拥有着1100万人口、拥有“九省通衢”与“东方芝加哥”称号的超大城市,正式向世界宣布从上午十点开始“封城”,限制市内公共交通关闭并离境通道,下午两点开始关闭高速公路。就此,这座城市开始了史无前例的封锁。

以下是我的爱人写的随感二段节选:“2020年1月26日,也是卷卷妈妈(我的孩子小名卷卷)支援前线的第二天。当护士长在微信群里说自愿报名的时候,她问我的意见,而我说这个时候你最应该打个电话给你爸妈。其实他们早已经做好了心理准备,挂电话她哭了,哭的像一个孩子。我问“你怕吗”?卷妈看看还趴在地上玩积木的卷卷说:“对于这个病我不怕,我哭是因为我可能几个月的时间看不到我的孩子”。听着我也红了眼睛。“别人都说离别的时候说再见要用力一点,因为有些人就真的再也见不到了。我们的离别没有再见。“自己注意身体’‘谢谢你”都不能哭,因为这不是生离死别”。如今我这篇随感文章依然带在身边,仿佛在告诉我那段充满了恐惧,无力,脆弱的日子就在昨天。

一名医护的时代见证

(图片提供:张宇;图为新冠病毒疫情期间,张宇在武汉医院尽力救治病人)

但渐渐我发现疫情有些变味了,有些问题不能问,有些真相不能说。人们要学会沉默,学会服从上级安排指示。从疫情的第一天开始,湖北省中医院,武汉大学中南医院,武汉市中心医院等8家医院发出公告,向社会各界征集防护物资。其中多家医院证实,外科口罩、防护服、手术衣、防护面具等物资只能再撑三到四天。以至于领导要求我和我的战友们为了节约防护服和面具等物资的消耗,本应该六个小时在污染区的轮岗变为了十二个小时,不能吃饭、不能喝水、也不能上厕所,每个人都在防护服内穿好成人纸尿布,有时缺少防护装备只能无奈用塑胶袋制品代替,用我们的身体和生命筑起高墙,抵挡病毒一波又一波的袭击。有时还是腹背受敌,还要遭受病人家属殴打、谩骂,医护人员的防护服被扯开,导致严重职业暴露,需要马上隔离。我们也会心寒,我们不是败给了疾病而是败给了人性。

那是一段没有昼夜的日子,累了就在地上随便找个位置睡一会,防护服成了第二层的皮肤,口罩背后的呼吸总是混杂着汗水和消毒液的味道。每一次推开病房的门,都像走进一场不确定的赌局——你不知道下一秒会遇见希望,还是绝望。

严密封控下,一些武汉年轻人经历了政治观念的转变。

我从网上视频看到有居民的门窗被焊死,一些执行封控人员强行进屋检查和消毒,推搡、殴打居民甚至是老人,也有封控人员涉嫌擅自扣留本应分发给居民的食品物资,视频里那些封控人员像黑社会一样。小区设立了蔬菜食品供应点,每次到那里购物都需要排一、两个小时的长队,很不方便,价格比封城前贵许多。但是有关疫情的批评和质疑之声遭到大量删除。

公权力与个人权力的冲突不断浮现,武汉市中心医院眼科医生李文亮之死更是震撼了整座城市。作为新冠疫情的重要“吹哨人”,李文亮因向大众提醒不寻常疫情,而遭地方警方以“传播谣言”为由训诫,其后在当值期间感染新冠病毒。最终2020年2月7日,武汉市中心医院宣布李文亮于当天凌晨不治逝世,终年34岁。如今五年过去了,李文亮生前发布确诊感染的最后微博,被网友称为“中国哭墙”。现超过百万条悼念与申诉的言论持续涌入,至今仍未停息。

那天夜里,我脱下防护服的时候,双手已经抖的拿不稳东西。镜子里的我眼神空洞、嘴唇干裂,像一个被抽空灵魂的人。我想起自己刚成为护士时的样子——那时我相信医学能拯救一切,相信真诚,努力和同情心总会被理解。我一直以为,信仰崩塌会是一场轰烈的爆炸。可后来我发现,它更像是一种缓慢的塌陷。它从一次次的妥协开始,从一次次闭嘴开始。直到有一天,你忽然发现自己也成了那个沉默的人。我不愿意变成这样,我站在天台上,看着远处的万家灯火。感觉上帝的声音告诉我:救死扶伤的誓言,不只是救身体的命,也是守护那一点点不肯麻木的心。

2020年4月8日,武汉解封,但封控模式被推广至中国各地。全国各地在接下来的三年间,一直执行“动态清零”政策。

2022年11月24日,新疆乌鲁木齐的一场住宅火灾造成10人死亡,成为了转折点,严格的封控措施阻碍了居民逃生,群众陆续走上街头,举起白纸示威,掀起“白纸运动”。其间北京、上海等地抗议民众喊出“自由民主法治”、“不要文革要改革”、“不要独裁、不要个人崇拜”、 “习近平下台”、“共产党下台”、“平反六四”等政治口号。在强大抗议声浪中,中共当局几天之后被迫仓促废弃了动态清零政策。这是中共自建政后首次在民众抗议声浪中被迫改变了强制推行的政策。

这次活动能够发生,说明人们心中的怒火已经被点燃了。因为各地封城导致的一系列的经济的问题。引起大量失业的问题,所以才会发生这样的抗议。但是我觉得虽然没有取得很大的实质性进展,但也可以在历史上留下一个缩影。

疫情五年后的今天,我跟随家人来到了美国,离开武汉的那天,我没带多少东西,只有一台笔记本,还有一身还没散尽消毒水味的衣服。飞机升空时,我回头望了一眼——灯火依旧密集,城市看起来平静而辽阔,可我知道那里埋着太多无法言说的故事。

来到美国已经半年了。这里的医院不大,但空气里有种我很久没感受到的东西——自由与轻盈。医生之间会争论,护士会质疑上级的决定,病人有权选择、拒绝,甚至可以质问医生的方案。起初我不习惯,总觉得这样会“惹麻烦”,现在我明白了:讨论不是冲突,表达不是冒犯。那是信任的另一种形式,是职业伦理真正的根。

在这里医生护士的工作不再只是执行上级的命令,而是一场关于“倾听”的修行。我学会了问:“你感觉还好吗?”“我知道你很痛苦”“我有什么可以帮助你的?”这些在过去都显得奢侈的句子,如今成了日常,原来,尊重不需要勇气,只需要习惯。

我又记起我的职业启蒙老师写在黑板上的那句话:医学的意义,是让人重新相信生命值得被尊重。

(图片提供:张宇;图为张宇参加10月4日活动)

如今我可以自由的站在这里对全世界宣告:我对中国共产党恶政统治下的社会充满了绝望,深深感受到中国共产党打着“以人为本”的旗号长期奴役压迫中国人民,中共政权疯狂收割民脂民膏、严控言论,对异议者进行残酷的镇压。

在中国,权力凌驾于法律之上,政府就像强盗无法无天,中国共产党以谎言及暴力对中国人民进行铁腕高压恐怖统治,中共政权就像邪教黑社会组织,中国共产党宣扬所谓的“人类命运共同体”和“以共产主义解放全人类”,严重违背人类文明和普世价值,使世界越来越多的人民深受其害。

所以中国只要存在共产党的统治,是绝不可能有民主的,人民也绝不可能获得自由。如果我们每一个中国人都想取得自己的人权,获得民主,获得自由,我们走不了近路,也回避不了这个巨大的困难,必须推倒中国共产党的独裁统治,才有可能得到民主自由的福祉。

A Medical Witness of Our Time

Author: Zhang Yu
Editor: Li Congling  Chief Editor: Luo Zhifei  Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao  Translated by: Lyu Feng

Zhang Yu, a medical worker who experienced the Wuhan pandemic, recounts her encounters during the lockdown and her reflections after arriving in the United States.

With utmost sincerity, before God and the congregation, I swear lifelong purity, loyalty to my duties, to strive to improve the standards of nursing, to do no harm, to take or administer no harmful drugs, to guard the secrets of my patients and their households, to assist physicians wholeheartedly in treatment, and to seek the welfare of the sick. — The Nightingale Pledge.

I often dream of that city. In my dreams, the sky is gray and pale, the streets are empty, and only the sirens of ambulances echo through the air. That was where I worked for ten years — a renowned tertiary hospital in Wuhan — once full of life and hope. But that year, the air was filled not with the smell of disinfectant, but with invisible fear.

I often dream of those days. We wore thick protective suits, running back and forth between wards and corridors day after day. The masks left deep marks on our faces; our eyes were dry and stung with tears. Every fallen patient meant a collapsed family. We did everything we could, but sometimes, there wasn’t even a chance to say goodbye.

I remember believing then — that as long as we tried our best, there would always be light. But gradually, I realized there were things more toxic than the virus. Some questions could not be asked; some truths could not be told. People had to learn silence, obedience, and to hide their unease with busyness. That was the first time I felt a deep betrayal — not by others, but by the ideals I once swore to uphold.

The wind was bitter that day. I watched the light outside fade as I stood in the emergency room. It was January 23, 2020 — Wuhan, a megacity of 11 million known as the ‘Chicago of the East,’ officially announced its lockdown. Public transport was halted, outbound travel banned, and highways closed. From that moment, the city entered an unprecedented state of isolation.

The following is an excerpt from my husband’s journal: ‘January 26, 2020, the second day that Juanjuan’s mother (my wife) volunteered on the front line. When the head nurse asked for volunteers, she sought my opinion. I told her she should call her parents. They had already prepared themselves mentally. She hung up and cried like a child. I asked, “Are you afraid?” She looked at our daughter playing on the floor and said, “I’m not afraid of the virus. I’m crying because I might not see my child for months.” I couldn’t hold back my tears either.’

一名医护的时代见证

[Photo: Zhang Yu treating patients in Wuhan during the COVID-19 outbreak.]

Gradually, I realized that the pandemic had taken on another meaning. Some questions could not be asked; some truths could not be told. From the first day, hospitals like Hubei Provincial Hospital of TCM, Zhongnan Hospital of Wuhan University, and Wuhan Central Hospital publicly called for donations of medical supplies. Many hospitals confirmed that surgical masks and protective gear could only last three to four more days. Our supervisors told us to stretch our limited resources: six-hour shifts in contaminated areas became twelve-hour ones — no eating, no drinking, no bathroom breaks. Everyone wore adult diapers under their suits. Some even had to use plastic bags as makeshift protection. We used our bodies and lives to build a wall against wave after wave of infection. Sometimes we also faced hostility — verbal abuse or even physical attacks from patients’ families, tearing our suits and causing occupational exposure. It wasn’t the disease that defeated us, but humanity’s darkness.

Those were days without distinction between day and night. Exhausted, we’d sleep wherever we fell. The protective suit became a second skin. Every breath behind the mask reeked of sweat and disinfectant. Opening a patient’s room was like entering a gamble — we never knew if we’d find hope or despair.

Under the tight lockdown, many young people in Wuhan underwent a political awakening. I saw online videos of residents’ doors being welded shut, of enforcers storming into homes for inspections, pushing, hitting even the elderly. Some hoarded food meant for residents. The community markets had long lines and inflated prices. Criticism of the pandemic response was swiftly censored.

The conflict between public authority and personal rights grew more evident. The death of Dr. Li Wenliang, the ophthalmologist who warned of the novel coronavirus, shocked the nation. Detained for ‘spreading rumors,’ he later died from the infection on February 7, 2020, at age 34. His final Weibo post announcing his diagnosis became known as ‘China’s Wall of Tears.’ Millions have since left comments of grief and protest — still ongoing to this day.

That night, as I removed my protective suit, my hands trembled. My reflection looked hollow and drained. I thought of the young nurse I once was — believing medicine could save everything, believing sincerity and compassion would always be understood. I used to think losing faith would be like an explosion; instead, it was a slow collapse — compromise by compromise, silence by silence — until one day you realize you’ve become the quiet one. I didn’t want that. I stood on the rooftop and looked at the distant city lights. It felt as if God was whispering: the pledge to heal isn’t just about saving bodies, but about guarding the part of the heart that refuses to go numb.

On April 8, 2020, Wuhan reopened, but its lockdown model spread nationwide. Over the next three years, China enforced its ‘Dynamic Zero-COVID’ policy.

On November 24, 2022, a fire in a Urumqi apartment killed ten people. The strict lockdown had blocked their escape. Protests erupted — the ‘White Paper Movement.’ People in cities like Beijing and Shanghai shouted, ‘Freedom, democracy, rule of law,’ ‘No more Cultural Revolution,’ ‘Down with dictatorship,’ ‘Xi Jinping, step down,’ ‘Communist Party, step down,’ and ‘Rehabilitate June Fourth.’ Within days, the government abruptly abandoned the zero-COVID policy — the first time in PRC history that mass protests forced a policy reversal.

This showed the anger in people’s hearts. Lockdowns had crushed the economy and led to mass unemployment. Though the protests achieved little concrete change, they left a lasting mark on history.

Five years after the pandemic began, I moved to the United States with my family. I didn’t bring much — just a laptop and clothes still smelling faintly of disinfectant. As the plane took off, I looked back — the city lights glowed, serene and vast, but I knew it hid countless untold stories.

I’ve been in America for six months now. The hospitals here are small, but the air feels lighter — filled with freedom. Doctors argue, nurses question superiors, patients choose or refuse treatment, even challenge doctors’ plans. At first, it felt wrong, like trouble. Now I understand: debate isn’t conflict; expression isn’t offense. It’s trust — the core of medical ethics.

Here, the work of doctors and nurses is no longer blind obedience, but a discipline of listening. I’ve learned to ask: ‘Are you okay?’ ‘I know you’re in pain.’ ‘What can I do for you?’ Once luxuries, these words are now routine. Respect doesn’t require courage — only habit.

I recall what my mentor once wrote on the blackboard: The meaning of medicine is to help people believe that life deserves respect.

[Photo: Zhang Yu participating in the October 4th event.]

Now I can freely stand here and tell the world: I have lost all hope in the Chinese Communist Party’s tyrannical rule. I’ve seen how it enslaves and oppresses people under the guise of ‘serving the people,’ how it drains the nation’s lifeblood, censors speech, and brutally suppresses dissent.

In China, power stands above law; the government acts like bandits without restraint. The CCP governs through lies and violence, wielding fear and control like a cult. Its slogans about a ‘community of shared future for mankind’ and ‘communist liberation of humanity’ violate human civilization and universal values, harming people worldwide.

As long as the CCP exists, democracy and freedom are impossible in China. If every Chinese person truly wishes for human rights, democracy, and liberty, there are no shortcuts, no detours — only the hard path of toppling dictatorship. Only then can we attain the blessings of freedom and democracy.