Archive | 三月, 2011

我听从内心良知的召唤

5 Mar

——采访《飘香蒙难记》作者华泽女士

中国人权双周刊

李衡:华女士,您好!我读了您的《飘香蒙难记》。前两个多月,也就是2010年刘晓波先生获诺贝尔和平奖期间,中国国内很多异议人士都遭到了不同程度的人 权侵犯,比如恐吓、监控、软禁、绑架、酷刑等等,您的遭遇是其中较典型的一起。为此,我想采访您几个问题,是否可以?

华泽:是的,这一期间很多人受到了当局的人权侵犯。我尽可能地回答您的问题。

李:从这个案件来看,您没有做任何违法的事情。您所做的,其一是您正在拍摄一部有关维权律师的纪录片,其二是您签署了《关于刘晓波获得诺贝尔和平奖的声明》,这两件事情都在法律范畴之内,属于公民的正当权利,但他们为什么这样对待您?

华: 在中国,侵犯人权是很普遍的事情。您知道,即使从中国宪法、法律来看,中国民众维权也都是合法的。特别是维权律师,他们就是要以法律来帮助民众维权, 怎么可能逾越法律呢?我也是学法律的,从事任何社会活动都会首先考虑合法性。但是,中国不是法治国家,法律、人权都不在当局考虑之内。他们要控制住异议人 士,为此不择手段。恐吓、监控、软禁、绑架、酷刑等等,以这些非法的暴力手段打压异议人士,这在中国已是常态,每个维权者、异议人士都有可能遭遇到。

李:但是中国政府反复表示要依法治国,而且将人权写入了宪法。

华:在现实中,法律对他们无效。社会上有句流行的话:“如果你跟他们讲法律,他们就跟你耍流氓;如果你跟他们耍流氓,他们就跟你讲法律”。法律是他们的“治人”工具。

比 如,我经历的这次绑架,他们没有出示任何法律文件,也未经法律程序,自始至终,我也不知道任何一个办案人 的完整姓名。光天化日之下,他们公然地给你戴上黑头套,进行绑架,完全是赤裸裸的暴力。我曾反复向他们强调:你们这样做是非法的。但他们无动于衷,说“法 律有很多层面,有的你知道,有的你不知道”。真是怪了,公民不能知道的“法律”也叫法律吗?这样说才对,他们说的做的就是“法律”。审问官曾威胁我:“我 弄死你!”、“你在这里被弄死了也没人知道”、“我把你拖出去挖个坑埋了!”这是依法办案吗?就是黑社会、流氓行径。

李:我明白,类似您所遭遇的事件在大陆层出不穷,确实像您所说的这是“常态”。但是,在大陆的异议者、维权人士应该如何对待呢?

华:当局是主动的,我们是被动的,只要你是异议者或维权人士,就一定会遭遇这些,这是躲不开的,除非你放弃。因此,我们必须独立面对这些,既然我们选择了这条道路,也就选择了包括这些的生活。

他 们打压异议者和维权人士的办法很多,比如让你失掉工作,没工作就没有经济收入,没收入就没法生活,他们就 是要让你和你的家人生活不下去,迫使你屈服。再有,他们利用你的家人对你施加压力,一般来说,我们可以承担自己的不幸,但是连累到家人,我们就很难承受。 还有,就是前面所提到的恐吓、监控、软禁、绑架、酷刑等等。总之,他们专在人的软肋上下手,不择手段,不惜使用黑社会、流氓的方式。

至于 如何对待他们,这没有固定的方式,要看个人的处境和选择。就我来说,我不会配合他们。如果你退一步,他 们就会逼你退两步、三步。比如,如果我向他们服软,写了保证书,他们就会进而要你写认罪书、悔过书,最终你什么也不能再做。我所做的都在法律范畴之内,光 明磊落,因此我一步不退,不配合、不合作。这是我的选择,是我的性格所决定。

李:《飘香蒙难记》中有一段记述了国安人员对您的调戏:“他 用一根手指按着我的脑门把我的头顶起来,把耷拉下来的一缕头发挑到耳后”,“深深地吸一口烟, 悠悠地吐到我的脸上”,“把胳膊轻轻搭在了我的腿上,身体向前倾”。这是否是他们有意安排的,是审讯的一个程序?很难令人相信,国家安全部门,在办案中会 对一个弱女子使出这种下流的流氓手段。

华:当然,这不是个人行为,是他们有意安排的。审问我的有4个人,他们分别扮演不同的角色。这个角 色就是流氓。他们见用其它的方式对我无效,就用这种方式 对我进行恐吓、羞辱,在这种场合,我是一个完全被他们控制住的孤单女子。但是这招对我也没用,我对此没有恐惧,而是感到愤怒,被侮辱的愤怒。由此,我对他 们更加轻蔑。

李:您被绑架后,曾昏迷,醒后,您首先意识到“这一切终于来了”。这说明您对这些遭遇是有预感和准备的。您为什么会有这种预感和准备?您做了哪些准备?

华:刘晓波获奖后的那一段时间,有很多人遭到了监控、软禁、绑架,我的朋友间也有许多人受到了这种待遇。而且我发现,我的通讯也有问题,有时手机响了,但没有号码显示,对方也不说话……

李:可能是测探你在什么地方。

华:当时我在外地,有朋友劝我暂时在外面躲躲,不要回北京。可我不愿意自我流放,也就是不愿意逃避。我很任性,要按照自己的意志生活、做事。逃避不是我的性格,是我的,我就担当。

这次遭绑架,对我不突然,我有准备,知道这一切早晚都要来,只是不知道在哪一天。自从我参与维权活动,就一直问自己,如果遇到这些事情,我能否承受,我有没有准备好。

李:“这些”都包括什么呢?

华: 比如被逮捕、坐牢、遭受酷刑,或者秘密消失,等等。很多异议者、维权人士都有过这样的遭遇,是“常态”。而且我身体很不好,如果遭受酷刑很可能就会死 掉。对这些,我曾不断地问自己能否承受。在我遭到绑架的那一刻,我意识到,我已经准备好了,我可以承受。我能守住,不会屈服,也不会向他们妥协。在整个过 程中,我更多的是愤怒;我的紧张是由于没有经验,而不是因为恐惧。

李:您说“饿死事小,气节事大”,“宁为玉碎,不为瓦全”,“既然来了,就做最坏的打算”。可见您的性格刚烈。我想问:是什么信念使您有这样的勇气?

华:应该说,这主要是由于性格。我是个热爱自由的人,从小就是这样,我认定的事情就一定要做,不能接受被控制的感觉,即使是家人、朋友。我做什么事情都要先问问自己,这是不是我要做的,如果是,那么我就会一直做下去。我听从内心,不违背它。

李:这就是说,您是出于热爱自由,选择了这样的生活道路。但是,这种选择恰恰给您带来了麻烦。这是不是可以说,自由本身也意味着承担呢?

华:自由有几个层面,比如身体的、精神的;个人的、社会的,等等。但是你追求哪一种自由,都是有代价的,要有付出。你选择,你承担,没有什么可遗憾的。

李:您受过很好的教育,也曾有很好的工作,如果不参与维权,您会有很好的生活和“前途”——大多数知识分子的前途,而且您也可以选择去国外生活。但是,您为什么放弃这些,甚至不惜坐牢、乃至牺牲生命参加社会公义活动?

华: 人的一生怎么过不是一辈子?可以这样,也可以那样。关键在于你选择的是什么。我听从内心的召唤,外部的物质生活对我不那么重要。人要有自由、要有尊 严,不能像猪一样活着。我们生活在中国的现实中,对于身边所发生的事情,我不能假装看不见。作为一个纪录片导演,我需要真实地记录这些,并且希望人们能够 了解,并使之改变。这是我对生活的选择,体现我的生存价值。如果,这种选择定要蒙难,那么这也是宿命。

再者,我也不会移居海外,我不会选 择流亡。一些年前,如果有机会,我或许会选择到国外生活,那时我还没有选 择这种生活。但是,现在没有这种可能了,我已经参与了,我的朋友们都在这里,我不能离开他们,我对他们有责任。我不喜欢自我流放,那意味着对恐惧、对苦难 的逃避,我的性格对此难以接受。

李:从您的文字中,我看到您不像政治人物,您仅是个知识分子,读书人。您是个很单纯的人,准确点说更像诗人。其实,您的性格、做事方式都不适合介入政治,但是您却“卷”了进来,这是为什么?

华: 如果你是个热爱自由的人,正直、有尊严,那么你就躲不开中国的政治。如果在正常的社会,我自然不会问及政治,我性格敏感,缺少政治素质,也没有权力要 求,我的理想生活就是“读万卷书,行万里路”。但是中国是非正常社会,控制无所不在,这是每个人都无法回避的现实。作为一个热爱自由的人,对这些,你不能 假装看不见。不是我要介入政治,而是我们生活在政治控制当中,你只要真实地生活,就不可能不触及政治。

具体地说,改变我的是去年的谭作人 事件。我们是很多年的朋友,他是个很好的人,甚至说他有点“傻”。他被抓 之后,我认为过一段时间他就会被释放,不相信他会被判刑。但是,这么一个好人就是被判了。这让我无法接受。对于我,中国的种种黑暗、不公由于落实到了一个 朋友的身上,而变得非常具体。有很长一段时间我感到非常无助。由此,我觉得必须做些什么,不管能否改变,但是我必须做。我做了,我就心安;如果不做,生活 就无法继续下去了……

李:最后,我想问一下,《飘香蒙难记》这个标题中,除了蒙难之外,还有其它的寓意吗?“飘香”意味着什么?

华:我有个网名叫“灵魂飘香”,网友们将之简化,叫我“飘香”。没有其它的意思。你注意到没有,这篇《飘香蒙难记》是“第一季”,就是说这是我首次蒙难,之后还可能继续蒙难,那时我就会写“第二季”、“第三季”……我的麻烦还没有完,我不会放弃。

李:谢谢您接受我的采访!

华:也感谢您!

2011年1月 24日

 

我有免于恐惧的权利

5 Mar

——华泽女士遭国安绑架的经过

法国广播电台

刚刚结束访美的 中国国家主席胡锦涛在白宫举行的新闻发布会上承认人权的普遍性原则,并表示中国在改进人权方面还有许多工作要做。作为一国首脑,胡锦涛也许并不知道就在中 国首都北京,就在他的眼皮底下,在光天化日之下发生了一起国安人员公然秘密绑架纪录片工作者、公民记者华泽女士的事件。华泽绑架案正好发生在刘晓波获得诺 贝尔和平奖之后,在那一时期,传出不少中国维权人士“被失踪”的消息。但是,像华泽女士那样被蒙上黑头罩,塞进汽车,先是秘密关押在北京,随后转移原籍江 西软禁,使其与世隔绝长达五十五天的,仍然骇人听闻。这起如同黑社会操作的暴力绑架事件性质极其恶劣,但绑架者却是纳税人供养的中国公务员。华泽女士在北 京家中通过电话告诉我们,她有一个起码的诉求,那就是她和她一样的中国公民有免除恐惧的权利。

先从一个帖子说起

2010 年二月下旬,一位女士因自己的帖子毫无理由地被网站删掉而上告法院,这件事当时很轰动,这位女士叫华泽,她还有一个笔名,灵魂飘香。学法律 出身,曾经是江西新余日报记者,后来辞职拍摄纪录片,在中央电视台工作过。她的帖子名为“寻找中国之路网络大讨论”。她认为作为一个有良知的中国人,对中 国的现状感到忧虑,社会正义和公平没有得到实现。因此她想在网上引起一场有关中国向何处去的大辩论。帖子被删后,网站不解释,她就把这件事告上法院,这种 做法在中国可能是不寻常的,别人可能也就罢了,但华泽不肯罢休。要维护自己言论自由的权利。结果,可想而知,法院不受理。这件事是否预示了华泽生活的某种 轨迹呢?

华泽认为有影响:“从那时起,我就被国安盯上了。他们第一次找我谈话也是因为那篇文章。他们要调查这篇文章的写作背景,有没有人 背后指使我”,九个 月后,华泽就在北京被国安人员公然绑架了,尽管国安人员当时并未标榜自己是国安人员,他们可能也觉得这种类似黑社会的勾当太失面子吧。

尽管 在海外的人有幸读到华泽写的『飘香蒙难记—第一季上』和『飘香蒙难记—第一季下』,记者在采访时,仍然被华泽冷静的叙述所震撼。那场面,比起好莱坞想 象的最恐怖的黑社会出手的场面有过之无不及。没有真正流血,有致伤的血迹,但比流血的场面还要恐怖,国安人员,顷刻出动,在“天子”鼻子底下,中国首都北 京,对一个弱女子下手了。2010年10月27日这一天,华泽在东北先后参与了律师浦志强,滕彪的办案活动,并进行了拍摄,与滕彪一道乘班机返回北京。回 来的路上就预感不 妙,但想她最坏的情况也就是被控制起来。“绝没有想到会遭到暴力绑架,会从此与世隔绝”。那是一个特别敏感的时期,她在东北十几天的时间,就从网上得知许 多庆祝刘晓波得奖的朋友遭到控制。他们几个当时正好不在,没参加庆祝活动,算是躲过一劫。但是,本能告诉她,千万要小心。于是回来的路上,她就跟滕彪商 量,到他的工作室暂住几天,风头过去了再搬回自己的家。后来华泽发现竟然忘记了自己时刻不能离开的手提电脑。到滕彪的工作室就立刻给民航打电话,民航回答 说找到了,放在民航的失物认领处。华泽随即决定去取,就在去取电脑的路上,在民航干部管理学院门口,不可想象的事情发生了。瞬间,她被人摁住。然后被人往 后拖,头就往后仰,然后黑头套从上面套过来,把她罩住了。

华泽当时的第一反应就是这件事终于发生在她身上了。她感觉绑架她的这些人非常职 业,采取的手段非常暴力。华泽不想就这么从这个世界上消失,拼命挣 扎,感觉黑头套被挣脱掉了。印象中看到绑架者的脸,听到有人说:“弄死你!”华泽用脚勾住面包车的门框,想呼救,但被头朝下,脚朝上塞进了面包车,后来就 晕过去了…

有人把一盆凉水泼到她脸上,她又有了知觉:“我感觉是在一个很黑的屋子里,屋子里一盏很高的灯照着我脸上,周围黑黑的,看不清 楚。我就感觉到有很多 人影走来走去。当时的第一感觉,就是小时看过的『红岩』里渣滓洞的情景,就是在一个审讯室里面。我当时觉得接下来就是各种酷刑。然后就有一个人把我提起 来,咣的一下扔在一个很硬的椅子上,头撞到墙上,就昏过去了…”

华泽受到了轮番审讯,还有小流氓的调戏。但她不断地告诉自己,她没有办法容 忍自己道德上的瑕疵。比如说要她写悔过书或者别的事,如果自己做了,自己 就会看不起自己,从此就会没有勇气生活下去,没有办法面对自己的朋友。华泽当时的想法很明确,无论如何,也绝对不会说出任何朋友的名字;再就是,既然进来 了就做最坏的打算。

面对这样一个“很硬”的女子,国安最后一无所获。用华泽的说说,“我想他们从我身上得到了一个最坏的结果。他们想用恐吓的方式把我吓住,结果没有起到丝毫作用”。

审 讯没有结果,当局风声鹤唳,决定把华泽转移到外地去,就这样,在国安人员护送下,华泽被遣返原籍江西新余。在当地在警察日夜轮流监视下一直到12 月20日,诺贝尔和平奖颁奖仪式举行完毕的第三天,才被放了。抓她的时候,采取的是黑社会方式,不需要任何理由;放的时候,也没有任何理由。

你硬,我们就让你痛苦

华 泽是在声援刘晓波释放的请愿书上公开签了名,华泽是购买了要到欧洲的机票。但到欧洲是在刘晓波获奖以前就决定 的事,票也是在这以前买好的,和刘晓波获奖没有任何关系,当局当时草木皆兵,凡出国者都怀疑会前往奥斯陆参加和平奖颁奖典礼。不少人到了机场被堵住不让登 机,更敏感的人就让你失踪。但是,华泽回想起来,那么多的人“被失踪”,被控制起来,但真正采取如此野蛮手段,使其完全与世隔绝的并不多见。

为什么用这样暴力的手段对付华泽呢?华泽想“那是他们对我的一种惩罚,你不是硬吗?你不是热爱自由吗?那我就用这种方法来惩罚你。别的方法拿你没办法,那这个方法一定会让你产生痛苦,让你难受”。

“有些人,他们可以动员家人劝说,我一个在京,独身,他们再也想不出什么制约我的办法”。

大约华泽的判断是对的,硬这个词用的很精确。九个月前,华泽为自己一个被删掉的帖子争说法,告上法庭。有些人可能不了了之,华泽却不肯,她是学法律的,她要法院作出一个解释。这件事,足见她的性格,也为她的蒙难埋下了伏笔。

他们竟如临大敌,我发自内心的笑了

一个弱女子,而且从未有过过激的举动,居然招来如此残酷的对待,居然出动一批国安人员,采取秘密绑架的方式。
想起这点的时候,华泽觉得好笑。“他们在恐吓我的时候,我有几次笑了。我那个笑是发自心底的。我觉得我们就这么几个人,而且基本上都是书生,就是仅仅在网 上发起一个呼吁,要求释放一个诺贝尔和平奖的获得者。而且是公开信这样一个方式,我们不过是是签下了自己的名字。然后就用这样的手段,非常黑社会的、黑帮 的手段来对付。我觉得很可笑。我们仅仅几个人,不过发出了自己的声音。我们既没有采取暴力的方式,又没有要求推翻共产党,我真的打心眼里觉得很可笑”。

华 泽把自己看作是一个纪录片工作者,她辞去原来的工作后,就是希望能够拍摄,拍下中国目前的公民运动,拍下一些一些人为中国走向公民运动所做的一些 事情,包括一些律师他们对推动中国的民主法制,推动宪法落实所做的一些事情。华泽觉得把这些记录下来是有意义的。但是,她自己明白,做这些事本身就“触动 了他们的神经”。

我有免于恐惧的权利

我们采访华泽的时候正是中国国家主席胡锦涛对美国进行国事访问的时候,而且,白宫一再表示,会坦率地同中国领导人谈人权问题。

远 在北京的华泽,面对自己遭遇的不幸,她想说些什么呢。“我是一个普通的中国的知识分子,我并没有参与太多的一线的维权活动,并不把自己看作是维权 人士,一定要说的话,我觉得自己是一个异议人士,只是发表自己不同的看法,不同的意见。我希望中国的人权状况获得改善,不要因言获罪。我做的事情非常少, 发表了很少的几篇文章,然后就是签签名。朋友遭到了不平等待遇,就要呼吁一下。那我这样的一个人就要遭到暴力的对待,人身的威胁,而且当时我被绑架是我觉 得自己随时都可以从这个世界上消失的,没有人会知道的。

“这种威胁是随时存在的。那我觉得我们一个国家的公民,有免于恐惧的权利,这是一 个非常基本的权利,不能你走在大街上,突然被绑架走,从此你就从这 个世界上消失了。没有经过任何合法的司法程序,没有任何理由,你就这样对待我,这是非常恶劣的。我想提出一个最低的诉求:就是我有免除恐惧的权利。我希望 我和其他的公民不要再遭受到这样的待遇,这种方式太恶劣了,和中国现在在国际上的形象很不符合,我觉得太丢人了。”。

华泽蒙难前看到朋友们写的文章,写到他们各种各样的不幸遭遇,但自己亲身遭遇和感受是有区别的。

华 泽即使当时遭绑架后,也表现得很镇定,没有害怕。但是她承认,绑架这件事是有后果的。比如说,原来晚上经常独自一个回家,走在路上从来都没有觉得 不安全。但现在晚上一个人走在这条街上,会东张西望,就是觉得自己是不安全的,觉得还会不会有人随时把自己绑架走的。从此以后,你的过往的那种安静的宁静 的生活就没有了。

“他们对待我的方式,他们也可以对待其他的人。只要他们觉得有必要。所以在这样一个体制下,每一个都会有这种可能性存在。如果我们是生活在一个自称是文明的国家,那这是非常不正常的。”

对 于中国目前的人权状况,华泽的感触是更糟了。她的一些常年做研究,做观察的朋友也是同样的看法。“这种绑架,这种恐吓,这种毫无理由地把你长时间 软禁起来,甚至被旅游,被站上岗的情况越来越多,越来越普遍,而且基本上成为他们一种习惯性的手法。就是,一到他们认为敏感的时间,他们就会这样做。把他 们认为给他们造成麻烦的人全部控制起来,这已经成了他们的一个惯例了”。

2011年 1月 22日

 

维权人士纪录被黑头套绑架

5 Mar

美国之音

北京的电影工作者华泽(网名灵魂飘香)最近透露,曾被人带上黑头套绑架,遭到审讯和人格侮辱,前后一共55天。现在获得自由的她将这段经历纪录下来,命题为《飘香蒙难记》。其实类似遭遇屡屡发生在维权人士和律师等人的身上。

*绑架者疑似国安*

目前已经重获人身自由的北京电影工作者华泽,最近在网上发表《飘香蒙难记》,内纪录了她在北京被暴力绑架和恐吓审讯。

华泽曾是中央电视台纪录片导演,后来辞职成为自由电影工作者,曾到福建拍摄了严晓玲强奸致死案和三网民为此判刑案,并成为自由公民记者。

华泽星期二接受美国之音采访时说,从10月27日被绑架到12月20日重获自由,前后整整55天,她判断绑架她的是国家安全局的人,理由可能和刘晓波获奖有关。

华 泽说:“这次被绑架的事件我把它成为第一季,因为很有可能还会有第二次。我从被绑架的那一天到被释放的过程中,没有任何人证实告诉我为什么进去。在我被送 到江西软禁期间有八个看守,24小时跟着,他们私下里会问你认识刘晓波。 我知道绑架我的是国安,不是国保。我基本上判断是因为刘晓波获奖,我们发起签名运动要求当局释放他。”

刘晓波获得诺贝尔和平奖引起中国政府不满,许多维权人士和公共知识分子在这段时间受到禁止出境、软禁监视、被旅游被失踪的对待。而华泽参加了为刘晓波呼吁的签名信。华泽说,很多人都被这样粗暴对待过。

华泽介绍说:“我们粗略统计至少有一百多人,范围特别广,我们甚至不太听过名字的人,甚至不太参加一线维权活动,或者很久以前参与六四等活动,现在已经不在发表文章的人,也在失踪之列。限制出境很普遍,甚至株连到他们的家人。”

*国保国安 v.s. 维权人士*

在中国,国保是国保大队的简称,是公安系统下的国内安全保卫大队,主要职能包括处置所辖地区的危害国家安全案件和线索和及时处置影响社会稳定的群体性突发事件和苗头等等。而国安则是国家安全部,主要处理对外安全事务。

华泽说:“我在北京被绑架送到火车站去江西的过程中,认出了其中有一个东城区国保大队的周队长他在我被绑架前曾约谈过我,这次显然他不是主角,而是跟随者,显然是配合的。”

除 了华泽,还许多人都有过类似的经历或遭遇。北京的法律工作者李和平、腾彪、李方平、李劲松、高志晟,济南的孙文广、陈光诚等许许多多中国的持不同政见人士 都有过类似遭遇。至今仍下落不明的维权律师高志晟,就曾写下2009年初流传甚广的文章:“黑夜、黑头套、黑帮绑架”,详述了他被绑架遭到严刑逼供的情 况,引起国际社会高度关注。

曾在美国受到布什总统接见的李和平就曾在2007年的9月29日被带上黑头套而绑架和殴打。

李和平说:“我当时从律师事务所出来,他们把你绑架到车上,拉到郊外的地下室殴打,然后把我们扔到小汤山附近的树林里,当时凌晨一点多了,哪有灯光就向哪走,后来拦了出租车才回来。”

李和平律师说,对此并不感到意外,以前听说过,对方没有劫财要钱,而是拿走他的移动硬盘、记录本等资料。

李和平说:“你在这个地方生活你是没有任何办法的。第二天我去报警,警察说这个事情在北京发生性质非常恶劣,影响非常坏,应该破案。结果到现在也没有破。”

北京维权律师浦志强对美国之音说,除了推搡和短暂扣留等情况,他没有遭遇过类似绑架。

浦志强说:“我们注定要与这个政权共处,通过权利觉醒和维护来实现社会往前走,并不是谁要消灭谁,这就是刘晓波获奖的“我没有敌人”的一种胸怀,一种境界。”

浦志强说,自己首先会指出对方的违法性,也曾批评对方给胡锦涛丢脸。

2011-01-11

 

不同的声音

4 Mar

自由亚洲电台:专访华泽女士

谷:听众朋友,很高兴又在“自由亚洲电台·不同的声音”节目和您空中相会了。我是谷继柔,今天,“不同的声音”继续“中国的博客骑士们”系列专题。今天播出第七集。为您专访前中央电视台导演“灵魂飘香”博客的主持人华泽。“不同的声音”在中国时间9月22日的清晨致电邀请“灵魂飘香”的主人华泽女士,成为我们的访谈嘉宾。

华泽,《零八宪章》第21批签署者之一,前中央电视台资深导演,目前担任独立纪录片的制片人。她长期患有严重的失眠症。受访前夜的推特现场,华泽突然进入了间歇性昏迷状态,幸亏有当时在线的,包括许志永博士在内的诸多维权挚友的守望相助下,送医急诊抢救。五个小时的输液治疗之后,终于在凌晨安然返回住所。不同的声音记者成功在华泽回家后不久,对她进行了专访,稍带歉意的拨通华泽导演的手机。现在就请听“灵魂飘香”博客主人华泽,不同的声音。

成:昨天你们在推上面,好象您有点紧急的事情,很多朋友都为您担心,还到医院去看急诊了吧?

华:嗯,是的。

成:您有比较严重的失眠症?

华:嗯,是的。

成:那我这通电话打过来的时候您是不是还在睡眠中呢?还是······

华:没有,我没有,我醒了,我昨天晚上睡了两小时,已经醒了很久了。

成:哦,才睡了两个小时。您的失眠症是什么时间开始有的呢?

华:很多年了。

成:这个对导演来讲是一个蛮要命的事情,因为导演这个活儿好象不是一个很轻的工作。我们也知道您的一些拍摄,好象都是要到现场去拍底层的一些民众,这个工作量都是非常大的。谈谈您最近这几年大概的情况好吗?

华:其实我从今年才开始拍的,原来我一直在官方的媒体里面做导演,干这一行是压力蛮大的,它有很多问题,比如说你的拍摄对象能不能拍到,能不能配合你,这些东西都会造成你精神的紧张。另外还有一个很重要的原因就是说,原来我们在后期编片子的时候需要去机房编片子,那机房是24小时的,就是你排到什么时间就是什么时间,所以生物钟很乱。我又是一个敏感体质的人,所以生物钟一乱就完全调整不过来,很长期这样的,所以失眠就越来越厉害。

成:我本来的感觉,是您的失眠症是不是因为最近这一两年,您过多的投入到这种······

华:哦, 不是的。

成:不是这样的情况?哦。您刚才提到,您以前为官方的一家媒体做影视工作。我在网上很难搜索到您的简历,但是一些只言片语告诉我,您好象是在央视工作过一段时间吧?

华:对,我在央视工作过很长时间。

成:哦,很长时间,可以告诉我您具体的职务吗?

华:就是做导演。

成:就做导演?那怎么会离开这个铁饭碗、金饭碗的呢?有没有一些不愉快的事情?

华:这个事情我不是很方便在电话里面说。

成:那您离开央视是在哪一年呢?

华:今年。

成:今年?刚离开的?那换个角度。我知道很多社会活动您都是和崔卫平老师一起参加的。我们知道崔卫平在中国大陆是一个著名的独立的影评人,也可以讲是文学评论家。谈谈你们之间的渊源好吗?

华:其实我们认识的时间不是很长,但是神交很久了。我一直很喜欢崔老师的文章,她的博客我都看的。最早是在几年前,我要做一个中国诗人的选题的时候,我读过她关于海子的研究,我那个时候比较关注她的一些专业性的文章。那么后来我读了她的博客之后,我发现她也很关注社会问题,而这也是我很关注的问题。那么今年我参与到一些社会活动中的时候眼她认识的。然后蒙崔老师的垂爱,她很喜欢我,我也很喜欢她,这样我们交往就比较多。那么她有些事情也会交给我来帮她做。

成:大概是这样的。我们也知道崔老师最新的一次社会活动,是最近这两次关于温家宝在深圳讲话的座谈会。这个座谈会经过一些整理,在国内、外已经上了无数的网站,在海外也很流行。你也参加了,你也发言了,上星期我采访王荔蕻的时候,我也和她大篇幅的谈到了这个问题。好象你们最近这两天在推的帖子里面,就温家宝是影帝还是真正发自内心的讲话,有蛮强烈的争论,余杰也介入进来了。我们从这次座谈会开始谈好吗?

华:可以。你说的两次座谈会我只参加了一次。第二次我没有参加。第一次的座谈会其实不是一个事先安排好的。因为崔老师家住在北京的郊区,风景优美的地方,空气比较好,她邀请我们去她家玩儿,去度假、去休息。所以我们就去了一些朋友,我是跟王荔蕻啊,王大姐我们这些朋友一起去的。到了那里发现还有徐友渔他们另一帮学者的朋友,这样两方面的朋友碰到一块儿,在一起吃饭的时候,聊天的时候就提到了,因为头几天在网上关于温家宝的讲话就有很多人在评论,就有各种各样的猜测,虽然我们没有参与,但是一直在关注。大家就觉得很有必要把他这个问题来谈一谈。所以我们就临时在那个餐厅里面大家就说,我们今天就来谈一谈,开一个座谈会吧。所以当时就由我来把它发布到推特上。

成:当时是由您发出去的?

华:是我和北风两个人在发。因为我发的时候有的不是很准确。因为推特很短,再一个他们说话很快,我不能达到同时的纪录,有的时候发上去可能不是很准确,再一个就是当时谈话的语境没有参加到里面的人,有的时候可能我的文字很难传达出去。之后,据我知道这一次谈话是没有整理成文的。而且是我的推文,因为当时我没有带录音的设备,因为没有准备那次是去开会的,平时开会我自己都会录音。当时我的一个朋友是拿了一个家用摄影机在录,所以她那个里面应该是有比较准确的声音的资料。但是我看没有人整理,我多次和那个录音的朋友说我来整理,但是她没有把那个资料拷给我。所以据我知道这一次谈话是没有人整理的。后来他们另一次座谈会我也知道,略微看了一下,但是我也没有看得特别仔细。我知道大概内容,那个是有人整理过的。后来余杰的那次争论,就是我们那次座谈会的当时因为我一直在推上,一边发推一边看推,我就看到有一些朋友,包括余杰对我们的那次会就一直在提出批评。当时我感觉到是我的责任,我没有很好的传达出会场很多人的发言的准确的意思。但是后来这个争论就很长时间延续下来了,一开始我并没有参与,后来我就觉得很多争论,很多人的争论已经是为争论而争论了,他们不考虑、不看当事人发表意见时候的上、下文,和别人话语的衔接的这样一个语境的勾连,我认为有很多断章取义的部分,而且我感觉有一些过于偏执了,对于某一些事情有一些预设的立场。比如说,我认为就是这样的,那么我看你的东西你的其它的话我就没有兴趣,我只关注这一段,然后我来批评。我觉得这样不是很公平。而且前两天我参与到一些争论中,而且有一些话,我觉得已经涉及到对一些一线的维权朋友的攻击,这一点是我不能接受的。其实那一天我觉得我们传达的意思非常明确,就是我们认为温家宝的讲话我们不要去揣测他的动机,他的动机是怎么样的我们不可能知道,但是他这个讲话本身是和我们的理念是一致的,所以我们大可以来用他的这个讲话。包括他曾经说过公平与正义比太阳更光明,不管这句话有没有得到实现,但是我们在一些行动中,我们就打着这个标语旗号,那很难有人就这件事情来说我们是反党反政府的。

成:对、对、对。

华:所以我觉得他的理念跟我们是一样的,那么我们就要支持他,如果他只是做秀的话,那么我们就多推,把他推上到不可能再下来的境地。

成:我就您这句话我插一句好吗?不好意思。今天我在网上看到一个非常新的帖子,这位先生很有意思,这位网友敦促温家宝:尽快投入到维权民众的伟大的行列之中来,为时还不晚啊。温家宝我们也知道他在党内现在受到的压力可以说是内外夹攻啊,党外你看像余杰呀什么的说他是影帝,他在党内的压力应该是比党外更大。他有没有像刚才网友说的可能性,在一怒之下或者拍案而起,他就投入到民间来了?当然很难,很可能要到他退休以后才能做到的事情,但是这样的可能性有没有?

华:因为我不是政治家也不是思想家,我对这些很难做分析,我只能说目前我看到的已有的情况,我觉得是很难,可能性很小。

成:但是你们的两次座谈会透露出来的这种信息呀,这种色彩,大家感觉人们对他充满了相当激动的一种希望吧。座谈会里面让人明显地感觉到的一种色彩。

华:因为第二次我不知道我没有去,但是第一次显然我觉得不是这样,第一次座谈会我们整个的中心思想就是说,他这么说了,不管他是怎么想的。那么我们要利用他的这个话语来做我们的事情。我们并不对他抱有什么幻想,但是我们觉得他的这个话,我们可以用来当他是一个承诺,我们来实践它。不管他实不实践,我们来实践。我觉得这是一个中心的意思。

成:最近一段时间,我们也知道一些维权的行为在被当地的政府镇压或者抓人以后很快又出现了放人或怎么样。包括你们在昨天推上说的安元鼎事件的那个现场,似乎公安表现得相对来讲也是比较谨慎吧。您觉得这一切和温家宝的讲话有没有释放出······

华:有没有联系是吧?

成:对。

华:我不敢这么说,我倒是觉得更大的可能性,是因为我们在做很多的抗争,不断地有更多的人出来进行抗争,我觉得这个空间在慢慢地扩大。其实这种事情多了,对双方,政权和民间,双方都是一个去除恐惧的过程。比如说我们有过“福州三网民”的大家认为是比较成功的围观之后,会激励更多的朋友参与到这些事情上来。因为他们可以看到我们付出的成本并不是很高,所以会去除恐惧。那么对于政府那边来说呢,他们也可能从这样的事情里面看到了我们释放出来的这种非暴力的倾向。因为他们肯定也有很多的恐惧,他们为什么这样会把一些小事放得这么大,是因为怕我们做出他们不能控制的事情来,比如说有一天会到广场去,会到天安门去。但是几次下来,他们发现我们不是这样的,我们只是表达对某件事情我们的想法,我们要表达出来我们对这件事情的看法。这种事情多了,对他们可能也是一个去除恐惧的过程。

谷:您收听的是“自由亚洲电台·不同的声音”节目,今天为您专访前中央电视台导演“灵魂飘香”博客的主人华泽。华泽导演十几年长期服务于中央电视台编导部门,辗转政法口和文化口,最终在去年因为受访者不便公开的内变而被迫离开了央视。事实上,华泽女士正式加入第一线维权大军,并成为其中一员骁将,是在长期的诤友谭作人案判决后的小半年前。虽然入行短暂,但是成就菲然。被成为维权界少见的美丽又让人舒服的姑娘。有崔卫平教授的诗句为证:

成:

应该将你的名字写上吗

你前面还有那么多路要走

我很想知道他们

我见过许多美丽的姑娘

却很少见到这么美丽又让人舒服的姑娘

你穿一件无领的红色毛衣

贴身、时尚,如此大方

这么美丽聪慧的姑娘

在任何地方都有好人缘

但是,这种地方你不该来的

我心里第一句话就是这个

你将在国家电视台习得的深厚经验

用在这些边缘的朋友身上

去福建法院声援的影像

拍得那么摇晃

你剪得干净利落

去大兴法院声援赵连海

你自拍自剪,放到网上

你给的地址我打不开

在推上你用“灵魂飘香”这个名字

放上去林昭的头像

谷:刚才是崔卫平教授描绘“灵魂飘香”主人华泽的诗篇。接下来,回到对“灵魂飘香”的主持人华泽导演的专访之中。

成:您加入最前线的维权大军,成为他们中的一员是从什么时间开始的?

华:我的时间非常短,没有什么经验,在这些朋友里面他们都认为我是一个,就是大家都很替我担心,认为我是一个没有什么经验的人,对危险也没有什么概念,也不敏感。其实我是一个进入很晚的人。我的经历主要是因为今年二月份谭作人的案件,这应该说是一个直接的导火索,他的这个案件对我的震动很大。因为他是我很多很多年以前就认识的朋友。在此之前我实际上对很多现实中发生的事情我是不知道的。那么这件事情之后呢,我就开始关心这些事情。今年大概二月份、三月份的时候,我才学会翻墙,才知道有推特。在此之前我不知道这些。而且从这个时候开始我才接触网络上的朋友,在此之前我没有任何网友。我只是上网因为工作去查一些资料,我不在网上跟别人交流,我的朋友全是现实中的。那么通过这个事情之后我上网,就认识了很多网友,就知道了很多事情,这些事情让我觉得超过了我的道德的底线,我不能再回到原来的生活中去了,所以我决定我要和他们站在一起。我看了很多他们过去很多年,其实有将近十年了,有很多很多的朋友都在做这样的事,我很忏悔没有更早的跟他们站在一起。因为我大约二、三月份才开始关注这些事情的,那么“福建三网民案”我就迅速的知道了。

成:这也是您第一次扛起摄像机进入前线,是第一次吧?

华:应该这样说,我接触这些事情之后,我做的第一件事是我写了一篇文章在博客上,叫《寻找中国之路》。这篇文章被朋友转到了很多地方,我当时比较关注的是“凯迪猫眼”上面。因为“凯迪猫眼”在知识分子中影响比较大。当时我是跟着这个帖子在看,大概两天多时间有几万的点击量,我现在记不起来是四万还是八万点击量,一直在第一页,但是两天多之后他们把这个帖子给删了。删了之后我们有一个沟通的过程,我一开始跟他们的编辑打电话问为什么删,他告诉我:这不是我们的意思,希望你理解。第二次再跟他们沟通的时候情况就完全不一样了,我收到的都是一些威胁性的这样的语言。我当时让他们告诉我说,你如果删掉了我的文章,能不能把回帖还给我?因为当时有许多朋友的回帖我觉得对我来说很珍贵,或者说你把准确的点击量,因为他删的那一刻我不并不知道,我就说你把最后的点击量是多少,你能不能把这们数字告诉我?然后他们就说:我们不知道你拿这个数据有什么企图,你要拿去干什么。就是类似这样的语言吧。当时这件事情我就很愤怒,我就写了一篇说我要起诉他们,我就第一次被国保约谈了。

成:喝茶了。

华:对,他们是一大早很早到我家里来的,来敲门然后直接把我从家里带走。

成:对您这样一个完全没有阅历的,加入了维权队伍才两、三个月的女孩儿,没有恐惧吗?

华:那个时候还谈不上加入,根本谈不上加入维权队伍,我仅仅是写了一篇文章,我和维权的朋友们并没有太多的结识,只是在网上有一些讨论,然后写了这样一篇文章。

成:我们知道从来没经历过的事情会产生莫名的恐惧,当时你有没有这样的感觉?

华:会的,会的。因为在这件事情之前,我在网上看到有被他们抓去,有被动粗的这种行为。但是那些我知道的都是参与维权活动很多,帮助过很多人的朋友。所以我完全想像不到像我这样只写过一、两篇文章的,没有参与过任何现实的维权活动的人,也会受到这样的对待,我心里非常的震惊。我当时内心还是很紧张的。但是我并没有感到恐惧。我是学法律的,我知道我没有做错任何事情。

成:我可以好奇的问一下,您刚才讲您是导演,但是您又是学法律的,是不是政法口这方面节目里的导演?

华:最早是的。但是我已经有很长时间都不是了,我很长时间都在做人文纪录片。

成:那按照央视的一贯的标准来讲应该是被贬了,是不是您哪里越了一些格呢?

华:不是的。我最早去的那个栏目后来撤消了。当然还有这样的栏目,但是这种栏目对我来说压力挺大的。压力倒不是说我越格,而是我们有的时候拍摄会有许多困难,比如说有的时候拍摄的时候会受到很多威胁,或者利诱,然后你没有接受这样的利诱的话就会有很多人来。我有过一次这样的经历,大概是99年吧,中国政府把那年当做“执行年”,就因为那时中国司法执行很困难,当时最高法院提出今年要作为一个“执行年”,很多案件我们要在今年完成,我们完全是在响应政府的这样一个政策,我们做这个关于“执行难”的片子。但是在这个过程中,我们就受到了很多的阻挠,包括我们还没有回到北京,就有一支很庞大的队伍来到了北京做游说,并且找到了我很多年以前的师长、朋友,他们通过各种各样的关系来施加压力。

成:可以问一下是有关腐败的呢,还是与政治有一定的关系的呢?

华:就是关于法院判决下来了,执行为什么难。具体案件现在我也不记得了,因为采访了好些个案件,在同一个片子里······

成:您既然99年在央视,而且已经当导演了,那就是99年前后呀,我们也知道有些,当然不知道您方便不方便说,就是所谓邪教这个东西,央视也做了一些节目,包括天安门的自焚啊,当时您在这样的组里吗?

华:这个我不是很方便说。

成:好的。那大幅度跳跃,跳跃到您这一、两年,您刚刚进推特这么短的时间,您还习惯吗?

华:习惯,我很喜欢推特,我几乎会花很多时间在上面。现在上面也有一些言论是让我觉得看上去不是很喜欢的。但更多的时候,比如说昨天晚上在我身上发生的事情,就会让我觉得很温暖,甚至会让我觉得,现实当中都不可能有这么多朋友关心你。

成:是许志永先发现的吧?

华:我当时我的手机找不到了,朋友的电话都在手机里面,我没有办法呼救。而且我当时属于间歇性昏迷的状态。

成:真的啊?你一个人在家?

华:对、对。当我有一点点清醒的时候就发到推上一点消息,但是可能那个消息我发的不是很完整,但大家能看出来我可能处于不是很清醒的状态。已经有网友在到处找,就是外地的网友说北京的朋友,说可能我有病了,让他们关注我。但是,北京来过我家的朋友,我知道这几天他们都在外地,而且他们去的地方可能都会有一定的危险性,我不想让他们······

成:返回来······

华:对,我不想打扰他们。但是还是有朋友在网上呼许志永,可能志永看到了,他就把我的地址推上来了。

成:我看到大家都是非常非常着急啊。

华:对、对、对,因为我当时都记不清我家的地址了,没有办法让救护车来,其实我有亲戚就在我楼下,但是老人家我不想打扰他们,一般都不想让他们知道我有什么事情发生。

成:围绕这个事情,我还有一件非常好奇的,就是您的间歇性的发病会不会与您的前面几个推的情绪非常激动有关系,因为我看到你的一个帖,说你想骂人了,你说没有人可以剥夺你的自由意志,你厌恶被人控制、被人左右、被人指挥,在此之后就出了这个情况好象。

华:那是头一天晚上,因为有一些时候,一个是你被有关方面在控制,这种压力可能施加到你的家人朋友,那么你还要承受来自家人朋友的压力,那有一些可能自己的好朋友,你可能也要承受这样的压力。我觉得自己一直是一个很叛逆的人,从小就很不喜欢别人控制我,包括我的父母,他们基本上都不管我的事情,而且我对他们都采取我做什么都是报喜不报忧的,所以我从小就是自己做决定。我会征求别人的意见,但别人如果来指挥我,我就会很反感。

成:看来你还完全没有成为一个独立的政治活动家。

华:我完全不是一个政治家,而且我也不致力于成为一个专门的职业的维权人士。如果有一天中国的社会转型了,我也不会再从事这方面的工作,我之所以这样做没有任何的政治企图,我也没有任何的政治素质,我只是一个听从自己的内心招唤的人。

成:今年还是去年一月份之前,您做的一些影视节目都是《周璇》啊什么的,好象很难找到政治的影子。好象你在一年多以前一直在做一些相当小资情调的节目啊。

华:其实也不完全是,我是在做一些近代的电影方面的人物嘛。那么这些人物里面,周璇其实是比较早的,但是还有很多的人物他们都是经历过许多的政治运动,他们的人生经历,在可能的情况下,我也会在片子里有所表达。其实我一直对中国的历史,包括近代史是很关心的。我也知道很多东西不是我们曾经了解的那样,我看的这方面的东西挺多的。但是我确实对现实的了解太少了,我有很长时间不关心现实,所以很多事情发生的时候我不知道。因为谭作人是我很多年前的朋友,那么知道了他被捕的事情之后,对我的影响很大。我知道在这之前已经发生了很多很多这样的事情,我没有关心,我一直心里面觉得很难过。

成:我看到过很早的一个贴子,不是你最近的推,你说:很多很多年以前我希望成为十二月党人的妻子,很多很多年之后我决定自己成为十二月党人。当时什么样的心情让你写下这样的帖子?

华:你很有心,把我那么早以前的帖子都翻出来了。

成:我觉得蛮有诗意的,很吸引人的眼球的。

华:我是一个受西方文化教育很深的人,比如说维克多·雨果的《九三年》是我少年时代对我影响最大的一本书,包括俄国十二月党人的故事,我很喜欢他们的故事。我长期单身的原因也是因为我不能将就,我希望找到一个让我崇敬的那样一位,但我一直没有遇见过这样的人。我想说的是,在我知道十二月党人的故事的时候,我非常希望我有一个那样的爱人,我愿意为他付出任何牺牲,我愿意与他共担风险和苦难,但是我一直没有遇见过这样的人。

成:是不是潜意识里面希望有一场类似十二月党人背景的大革命的到来,您可以找到您的爱人,有没有这样的心情?

华:也不是,我觉得今天的中国,我不希望有一场大的革命,我觉得这对中国不一定是一个很好的事情。

成:刚才您把您的梦中情人定的要求定得非常的高。

华:是的,是的,是的,这就是我长期单身的原因。我现在基本上已经放弃要结婚,找到一个自己理想中的爱人这样一个想法了。所以我觉得我自己可以成为一个十二月党人了。

成:你越是放弃的话它到有可能反而来了。

华:我不知道。因为我们有的时候开玩笑把签署《零八宪章》的人称做十二月党人,所以从这个意义上来说,我觉得我已经是一个十二月党人了。

谷:今天的节目就播送到这儿,这是由成功采访和制作,谷继柔编辑和主持的,谢谢您的收听。不同的声音,下次再见。

2010-9-26

 

大陆网民捍卫网络言论自由法院不受理

4 Mar

希望之声

网络搜索公司谷歌因不满中共网络审查而宣布退出中国,中国网民在网络的言论也受到严格的限制,近期一位北京网民因不满自己的文章无故遭到网站删除,走法律途径捍卫言论自由,但法院不受理。

北京网民华泽女士在今年二月下旬发表一篇名为《寻找中国之路网络大讨论》的帖子。在「凯迪猫眼」得到热烈回响,有接近4万次点击,跟帖更是近800人次,三天后就被删掉了,在网站没有正面响应下,决定通过法律途径维权,不过法院没有受理。

华 泽说:(录音)「我觉得言论自由是走向民主自由的第一步,如果没有言论自由的话,其它的自由和民主都谈不上,所以我们要为言论自由而战。我不断地追问那个 法官,宪法35条赋与我的言论自由,我怎么样受到保护,你不受理要给我一个不受理的理由和一个裁定书,但是完全没有,我对法律完全丧失了信心。」

华泽女士表示,令人感到讽刺的是,当时是两会期间,中央领导人还对国外媒体强调,人民应该有言论自由,而实际上是明显有高层的人在中国操控网站和媒体的舆论导向。

她 说:(录音)「关于删帖的事情,我的新浪博客经常删,都有抗议过,这种情况在中国已经特别特别的普遍了,你只要发表对中国的政治、民生有一点关心,就会有 人来删你的帖。当时在我的博客上跟帖的一个小姑娘,她把我的帖子转帖了,而且介绍给其他人,被警察找到她单位去了,让她写保证书,太过份了,仅仅是在我的 帖子后面跟了帖,表示支持。」

江苏网民吴先生表示,国内网络审查很严格,采用删帖、删除ID,不让发表等手段,民间蔽当局认为敏感的言论。

吴先生说:(录音)「要保护我们权利,当我们去找法院时,他们也不受理,背后有手在操纵,导致我们没法在这里进行公平的讨论,听到的都是官方的声音,所以在中国找不到一个普通老百姓说话的地方,所以这国家要进步根本没有可能,因为你没有言论自由。」

吴 先生还表示,近期谷歌公司不愿再配合中共的网络审查,宣布退出中国,愿意改正以往的过错,期望其他网络公司也能出于道德良知,捍卫网络自由。(录音)「国 际上大的网络公司,比方像思科公司他当时就参与了中国的防火墙,做了很多不光采的事情;现在谷歌他已经改善他以前错误的行为,像思科这种公司他能不能采取 一些措施去改变这个局面呢?」

湖北网民游先生也同样期望其他网络公司向谷歌公司学习,不要配合中共作恶。他说:(录音)「谷歌不配合作 恶,他出走以后,所以当局反而在一个劲地口诛笔伐;谷歌的这行为确实触动了他们,实际上也把他作恶的行径公诸于世,肯定当局是很不满。谷歌要遵守这个信息 自由,作为网络的管理的人士,应该不能再跟黑手去合作,再合作就是再作恶。」

2010-3-31

 

网络审查让我忍无可忍

4 Mar

美国之音

日前美国网络搜索公司谷歌因不满中国政府的网络审查而取消中国的搜索业务,将服务器转移到香港,引发外界对中国网络审查的关注。其实,在许多国内论坛,经常 有帖子被网管删除,理由各异,但北京的华泽女士就不能明白,自己一篇忧国忧民的文章为何被删除,而令她更不满的是,中国的法院也不愿按照宪法保护她的言论 自由。

*写贴呼吁探索中国未来*

北京的网友华泽女士今年二月下旬发表一篇名为《寻找中国之路网络大讨论》的帖子。

华泽说:”中心内容就是讲,我认为中国现在出了一些问题。我作为一个有良知的中国人,对中国的现状感到忧虑。社会的正义和公平没有得到实现。比如说贫富差距悬殊、教育进入误途、公民利益受到侵害。我认为中国道德体系已经崩溃。”

于是她呼吁网友寻找中国的道路。她认为每个中国人都有权利和义务一起探索中国未来发展之路,用理性的、真诚的方法来探讨这个理念。

*反响热烈 帖子突然被删*

华泽说:”这篇文章在我的博客发表后被转载很多,其中一个论坛叫凯迪猫眼,我比较关注这个论坛,比较多的知识分子都对它比较关注。但是这篇文章只上了三天就被删掉了。”

这三天里,文章得到近4万次点击,跟贴更是近800人次。 以前,面对博客文章被删除,华泽就会用发表公开信等方式发出抗议,但这次稿子被删又有什么不同呢?

*网站不解释 法院不受理*

华泽说:”这次在凯迪猫眼被删,它没有给我任何通知和理由。我觉得很难接受。打电话过去问,他说贴子被删和网站无关。”

华泽的疑问从网站方面得不到解决,于是她决定通过法律途径维护自己的权益,但是北京东城区法院的工作人员在请示上级两次后,给华泽的答复却是不能受理,也宣告华泽无法通过司法程序用宪法第35条保护自己的言论自由权利。

曾经学过法律也在媒体工作过的华泽明白自己只是中国三亿多网民的普通一员,是十三亿人民的普通一员。现在法律之路走不通,她会继续写文章抗议和追问,同时保留依法诉讼的权利。

华泽说:我觉得中国的民主自由是需要渐进,理性和真诚的。我做我应该做的,站出来发出我的声音,告诉他限制别人的言论自由是违法的。”

华泽在接受采访时还说,日前将搜索服务退出中国的谷歌至少是个不做恶的公司,对谷歌有一份敬意。

一个是世界最大的网络搜索公司,另一个是中国普通的网民,他们都想捍卫网络自由。

2010-3-29

 

飘香蒙难记

3 Mar

2011年7月 本文(中、英文双语)由HRIC在美国正式出版

一、 绑架

在东北出差近半个月,白天拍摄,晚上上网,知道晓波获奖后,北京已是风声鹤唳。于是和滕彪商量,回京后先在他位于望京的工作室住一段时间,等有司疯够了再回家。

担心被定位,10月27日中午登上飞机后随即关掉了手机,把电池和电话卡从手机上拆下,中止了与外界的通讯联系。

下午3点左右飞抵北京,在机场和滕彪等人告别,与他的助手欢欢乘机场大巴去望京。在机场高速路上,发现笔记本电脑不见了。我这该死的记性,一定是落在飞机上了。

一到滕彪工作室,放下行李,马上用固定电话联系机场失物招领处,那里的工作人员说,我的电脑信息已有登记。立即出门,去一条街之隔的民航干部管理学院乘机场大巴。

走到民航干部管理学院门口,突然被人从后面按住,仰面架起,一边向后拖,一边黑头套从天而降。脑海里闪过第一个念头:原来黑头套这么厚,有一股脚臭味儿。

救命!听到自己在尖叫,之后是拼死挣扎,希望拖延时间,让更多的人看到我被绑架的一幕,并能报警。挣扎的过程中,黑头套被我挣脱了,在被七、八个大汉头朝下 脚朝上塞进面包车时,记住了这个最后的镜头:我用双脚勾住白色面包车的门框,不肯就犯。一个绑匪变形的脸,恶狠狠地俯视我:再挣巴就弄死你!随后便失去了 知觉。

隐隐约约醒来,感觉车停了下来,以为到了目的地。一会儿车又继续开,再停下。几番之后开始飞速行驶。明白之前在等红绿灯,之后上了通往郊外的高速公路。

不知道过了多久,一盆冷水扑面而来,恍惚中看到一个黑屋子,惟一一盏灯直直地照在我的脸上,许多张脸在眼前晃动,一只手伸过来,抓住我的衣领,把我从地上提起来,重重地扔在一个凳子上。头狠狠地撞着了墙。嘴里很腥,胸口很痛,想到了小说《红岩》里的渣滓洞。

数度昏厥,最后醒来时,躺在一张床上。仿佛潮水从头顶退去,身体虽极度虚弱,意识却逐渐清晰起来:这一切终于来了,好快!不知道现在是什么时间了?朋友们知道了我失踪的消息吗?最晚明天,欢欢会去工作室,她应该知道我离开后没有再回去。她一定会告诉滕彪的。

环顾四周,我判断这是一个郊外的小旅馆。十二平米左右的房间,北面是门和厕所,南面是窗户,东面的写字台和椅子摞在一起,被移到了窗户下面,腾出的地方靠墙放着一张凳子,是我之前撞着头的地方。西面就是我躺的这张床了。有五、六个人走来走去,低声耳语。有人发现我醒了。

在审讯开始前给自己定下了两个原则:一、饿死事小,失(气)节事大,自己的事可以谈,绝不提任何朋友的名字;二、宁为玉碎,不为瓦全,既然来了,就做最坏的打算。

二、 较量

我挣扎着从床上坐起来,靠在床头,不知什么时候被弄伤的背部一阵刺痛。

审讯开始了。其他人都退出房间,只留下“一号”(我把审讯我的人按先后顺序编了号)。他看上去三十岁左右,头发打了厚厚的摩丝,像招手停一样翘着,窄腰的短上衣吊在身上,衣领敞着,露出足有一公斤的银项链。很想告诉他:难看,像拴狗链。

他夸张地活动活动手腕,点上一支烟,套上一个透明烟嘴,用带着银戒指的兰花指捏着,踱过来,一屁股坐到靠近我的床边。我低下头不看他。过了一会儿,他用一根 手指按着我的脑门把我的头顶起来,把耷拉下来的一缕头发挑到耳后。然后深深地吸一口烟,悠悠地吐到我的脸上。显然他是想激怒我,我闭上眼睛,不上他的当。 又过了一会(感觉有一个世纪那么长),他把胳膊轻轻搭在了我的腿上,身体向前倾,几乎是耳语:看着我。啊?你看着我嘛。

我冷冷地抬起眼睛,接住了他挑逗地目光。他一只眉头向上挑起,挤眉弄眼的凑到离我不足一尺的距离。

请离我远点儿!我竭力让自己的声音听起来有力量。

多远?

越远越好!

为什么?

我讨厌烟。

他站起来,踱到桌子那边,掐灭了烟,又靠过来。

你看,烟没了。这下可以说话了吧?你叫什么名字?啊?!

我和你没什么可说的,把你们的头儿找来。

随后闭上眼睛,不再搭理他。

这个小痞子还挺有耐心,自说自话持续了差不多一小时,进来一个人与他耳语了几句,那人走出去。不一会儿,又进来四、五个人,其中一人十分面熟,像是北京东城 区国保大队的周队长。几个月前曾被他约谈过一次,那次他与我隔桌而坐,虽然言语中透着威胁,但始终面带笑容。现在这人板着脸,带着黑色墨镜,个头也比我印 象中矮不少,显然是这次绑架事件的次要角色。所以我一时还不敢确定。

起来,跟我们走!有人发话。

我挪到床边,穿好鞋,脚刚沾地,顿时痛得出了一身冷汗。——我的脚踝也受伤了。顾不上想,黑头套又罩了下来,我被两人连架带拖,踉跄着往外走。走过长长的过道,走出大门,像货物一样被塞进车里。

这次汽车没有行驶多久就停下来,我被带进一个大房间,走了十来步拐进另一个房间后,被按在一个方凳上坐下。随即,房内嘈杂的人声散去了。只留下一个人围着我 开始踱步,静静地房间里只有他的脚步声,一圈又一圈。停下,一把扯下黑头套。也许适应了黑暗,这屋里的亮光刺得我眼睛睁不开。

你叫什么名字?

看清了,是一双登山鞋。我的目光顺着登山鞋慢慢往上移:户外登山裤、蓝色运动型针织衫,披着休闲外套。一个皮肤白净,眼睛大得像瞪眼羚的年轻人——“二号”。看来他喜欢户外运动。

你叫什么名字?他又问了一遍。

你们不知道我是谁就把我绑架来?

我问你什么你就回答什么。

华泽。

眼睛已经适应了环境,环视四周,屋子有二、三十平米,我坐在正中间,前面三米左右有两张椅子和一张桌子,桌子上放着一个四四方方的公文包,是录音设备!电影里常看到的那种经典的审讯场景。

你今天下午刚下飞机?

对。

从哪回来?

丹东。

干什么去了?

拍片子。

去了几天?

三天。

拍什么?

律师办案。

都干什么了?

会见当事人和家属,去法院、检察院复印案卷。

这么点事儿要三天?

时间还挺紧张的。

是哪个律师?

我不想说。

为什么?

我不说别人的名字。

他又踱了几个来回:你看起来很虚弱?

痛、累,坐不住。

搬过来一张椅子:坐着吧。舒服点?

是。谢谢…

我们接着谈?

谈吧。

为什么拍这个律师?

喜欢。

为什么喜欢?

喜欢一定要理由吗?

不要吗?

我喜欢什么不要理由。

听见他运了运气,停顿片刻又重新开始。

拍完到哪里播?

哪里出钱买就在哪里播。中央电视台要买我也愿意。

要是没人买呢。

那就谨以此片献给我喜欢的人呗。

你就拍这一个律师,还是拍一个系列?

不确定。如果还有喜欢的就再拍呀。

你说的喜欢是什么意思?

说了你也不明白。

你是怎么认识这个律师的?

年代久远,不记得了。

在律师和拍片的问题上纠缠许久,他一无所获。

门“呯”的一声被推开。一个高个儿男子在四、五个人的簇拥下隆重出场。

“三号”——四十岁左右,小眼睛,西装革履,皮鞋亮得苍蝇站在上面都会滑倒。他把手里拿着的烟盒、手机往桌上一拍,坐下,二郎腿一跷,一边不停地抖动着,一边气势汹汹地说:

你别难为我的弟兄们。你不是找领导吗?我来了。告诉你,我忙着呢,没空跟你费话。你来句痛快的,能聊不能聊?

我不是一直在和你的弟兄聊吗?

聊不下去了,卡壳了。你一会儿不记得了,一会儿不想说了。这叫聊啊?到这儿来你还想掌握主动权?没门儿!告诉你,来这儿的就不可能随便出去。我问你就答,这才叫聊知道吗?

请把证件给我看看?你们是哪个部门的?

说出来吓死你!(和国保打交道又不是一、两天了,没吓过啊。莫非是国安?)

说出来听听。

现在我不能说,以后再说。

我笑了。“三号”气得咬牙切齿,脸都扭曲了。

我能让你从此在这个世界上消失你信不信?

继续笑着,看戏似地盯着他。这时,外面传来狗吠声。

我把狼狗牵进来和你玩玩你信不信。

行—啊——。我笑得已然力不可支。

一旁的“二号”帮腔:你怎么这么傲慢?有什么好笑的?你应该恐惧,正常人上这儿来都会恐惧。

我为什么要恐惧?你们把我一个手无缚鸡之力的弱女子用暴力绑架到这里来,连自己的身份、名字都不敢说,证明你们更恐惧。你们如此恐惧,我就不必恐惧了吧。

“三号”显然是气疯了,他一拍桌子:最后问你一句,还能聊不能聊?

没什么可聊的。

好,你想当江姐是不是?那我成全你!我向来是先礼后兵,现在礼完了,该兵了。你等着!他说完几乎逃跑一般冲向门口,屋里所有人随他蜂涌而出。

在他临出门前甩给他一句话:被你们绑架到这里,就没打算活着出去!

门“呯”的关上,又打开。进来了“四号”。他冲我大喊一声:站起来!坐舒服了你是不是?

我摇摇晃晃刚站起来。身下的椅子就被他一脚踢倒了。

你有正经营生没有?啊?

不解地看着他?什么意思?

又没男人,又没正经营生。啊?

(明白了)你认为自己干的这叫正经营生?

你住嘴!我们领导问你话,是看得起你,你那叫回答?你那还不如不回答。你那么回答你不如干脆别说话。

跟这个瘦小的委琐男也确实没什么可说的。

你干嘛不找个男人?干嘛不找个正经营生?你什么东西?!

都什么逻辑啊?这人上过学没有?

他又重复了N遍这两句车軲轳话。看来他对我没有男人、没有正经营生这件事耿耿于怀。

我看着他一言不发。

好,你不说话,你不说话是不?!

他刚才不是让我干脆别说话吗?

他 恶狠狠地围着我转了一圈,停在我身后。“礼”完了,要开始“兵”了吧?是什么样的“兵”?传说中的酷刑一件件在脑海里过了一遍。想到某人常说过的话:最看 不起进去就慫,出来就硬的人。我不会给某人机会让他这样评价我的。再说,我这身子骨,估计两下就完,痛苦也不会有多长时间。我准备好了。

他怎么还不动手,时间过去了多久?右脚痛得站不住,全身的力量都在左脚上。我已经开始有些神情恍惚了。别倒下,千万别倒下!别让他们以为我害怕了。

听见有人在和我说话,神智慢慢恢复过来。是“二号”,他把椅子端过来,让我坐下。开始唱白脸:

你为什么发抖啊?

冷!

他出去转了一圈,拿了一个白床单进来:没有衣服,给你这个吧。

我把床单裹在了身上。“二号”拉过来一把椅子坐在我旁边,语重心长的开始聊。

你怎么这么固执啊?其实我们就是要你一个态度。

你们在光天化日之下,把一个守法的公民非法绑架到这里来,还有什么资格和我谈态度?

你要是总追究前面你怎么来的这件事那就没完了。你又改变不了现实。

我是改变不了现实,但我可以不合作。我和小流氓也不可能合作。

小流氓?谁是小流氓?

调戏我的人,要让我从这个世界上消失的人。我可以忍受大流氓,但不可以忍受小流氓。

他们有什么区别?

大流氓竭力掩盖流氓的本质,他们知道那是丑的。小流氓赤裸裸地表演流氓的本质,他们以丑为美。

哦,有道理。但是你也太傲慢了吧?你知道吗?你的态度让人感觉是在挑衅。

我纠正他:不是挑衅,是不屑。让我消失?别跟我来这一套。我越说越生气:不就是死吗?我们纳税人花钱养着你们这些无恶不做的东西,天天看着、听着你们的恶行,我早就活腻了。

他倒很有耐心:你想过没有,可能不会让你死,就让你耗着。你受得了吗?

耗吧。油干了,灯就灭了!

你怎么这么不识时务呢?你做的事不是都光明正大的吗?说说有什么关系呢?

我告诉你了,可以说我自己,不可以说别人。

什么时候了,你还想着别人,你自己能不能出去都还不知道呢。

对我来说,内心的安宁和灵魂的自由,比身体的自由重要得多。你不会明白的。

他愣了好一会:关于这个问题,我也想想,你也再想想。今天太晚了。先休息吧。

我提出要上洗手间。他叫来一个女看守陪我去。从洗手间出来,地上已经放好了一个床垫,上面有一套被褥。女看守说:就在这上面凑合睡吧。

怎么?这就完了?没有酷刑?也不打算耗干我了?不管它,先把自己虚弱、颤抖不止的身体放平、暖和了再说。

一男一女搬来两张椅子坐到床垫旁边。我平生第一次,在足有两百瓦的灯光下,在两个看守的监视下,闭上了眼睛。

疲惫之极,却彻夜难眠,能感觉到心脏对胸口猛烈地撞击。全身开始疼痛,双肩、腹部、四肢,是绑架时使劲挣扎的结果吧,运动量太大了。

听天由命地躺着。看守们换班时走动的脚步声,低语声,椅子发出的吱吱响声,甚至喘气声都那么真切。

不知道几点了?天光透过厚厚的窗帘渗透进来。这是一个靠南的房间。一个身材五短、健壮的男人走了进来(这个打手,昨天绑架我的人之一!),他把手插在裤兜里走到我的旁边,眼露凶光,看着我,用脚踢了两下床垫:起来!请你来疗养的啊?!

我爬起来,整理好被褥,默默地坐在床垫上。

“二号”进来,拉过一张椅子,靠近我坐下。

我们继续昨天的话题。

我再重复一遍:我只谈自己,不谈别人。

这是你的原则?

是。

······

华泽这个名字是什么意思?

意思是花的海洋。古汉语中花、华不分。

他开始问一些我看起来很无聊,也许对他很重要的琐事:家庭背景、成长环境、教育状况···谈话就这样拉拉杂杂、漫无边际地进行着。

从昨天到今天,你们对付我的足有二、三十人了吧?纳税人的钱你们就这么造?我开始提问。

你怎么知道我们花的是纳税人的钱?他饶有兴趣地看着我。

不是吗?

不一定哦。

难道是安元鼎?

说不定哦。

干这份工作一定很痛苦吧?心里会有阴影吗?

你怎么就这么肯定?

看你也是受过教育的,至少是大学毕业吧。你会告诉你的家人你们绑架了我吗?

不能说是绑架。

那是什么?

我们叫,弄进来。

你知道这是违法的吧?

法律包括很多层面,有你知道的,也有你不知道的。

哦,很新鲜,我不知道的也叫法律。好奇地看着他:告诉我吧,你究竟属于哪个部门?

告诉你你也不理解。就算将来有一天,我们在另外的场合见面,你也不会理解。

那就告诉我你的名字吧。虽然你是这个具有黑社会性质的、有组织的犯罪团伙中的一员。但将来你受到审判时,我可以出庭为你作证。证明你在我被绑架期间,没有对我施以酷刑。

他笑笑:你觉得这一天还有多久?

人算不如天算。也许十年,也许一夜之间。我相信,你我有生之年都会看到的。

那你在这之前打算做些什么?

用笔、用心、用摄影机,记录下这个时代的变化。

他点点头,转了话题:你该吃点东西了,你想吃什么?

我要先刷牙,不刷牙不能吃东西。

他用了十几分钟来说服我,用水漱一漱也可以起到清洁口腔的作用。我坚持必须用牙刷、牙膏。

他终于说:其实,找一个牙刷来也不是太难的事,不过你昨晚看起来情绪不稳定,我怕你伤着自已。

原来这样。睡觉有人守在旁边,上洗手间也有人贴身“保卫”,原来是怕我自杀。

是啊,你昨天说到死的时候眼都不眨,你把我惊着了。

这回轮到我笑了:放心,我不会自杀。要死,这笔血债也得给你们留着。

你要在这里被弄死了也没人知道。

那可说不定。你们这二、三十个人就没有一个有良知的?今天不说出去,你能保证十年、二十年后也没人说出去吗?别那么自信。

你真地不怕死?

人怎么活不是一辈子?庸常地活也是一辈子,精彩地活也是一辈子。有什么可怕的?

那你得吃东西,把身体养好,才能精彩地活呀。

要刷完牙才能吃东西。

你这人还真固执。你知道吗?你的许多朋友都比你有智慧。

知道。

最后谈判的结果是,我用手指当牙刷,抹着牙膏刷了牙。然后吃了几根青菜、几块香菇、几口方便面。

“二号”出去了。马上进来两个看守,一左一右坐在两边。看来我可以继续休息了。

这一天的“谈话”就这么结束了。他们这是要干什么呢?如此隆重地把我绑来,就这么呆着?看来,我们相互无法理解。我们不是同类,我与他们之间的差别,比狼和狗的差别大很多吧。

四周真静啊,只有狗叫声。偶然,远处有飞机轰鸣而过。猜测所处的位置应该是在机场的东面。这是他们的一个秘密处所,专门关押我这样的异议人士?他们有多少这 样的秘密处所?关押过多少异议人士?这里有过酷刑吗?那些从这里走出去的朋友还能过正常的生活吗?一年以前,无论如何,我不会想到自己有今天这样的遭遇。 胡思乱想着,捱到天黑,又天亮。

打手又来了,用脚踢床垫。我翻过身,用后背对着他。他一把掀起被子。我仍然躺着,不理他。他火了,围着床垫走了两个来回,开始破口大骂:你个贱B,你以为你是谁呀?装TM什么丫挺的?···继续骂,不堪入耳。

我豁出去了,猛然坐起来:你什么东西?给我滚出去!

他逼近我:你再说?我弄死你!

“二号”夺门而入,我朝他大喊:让这个打手离我远点,等你们要弄死我时再让他进来!

“二号”拦住了冲过来的打手,在出去之前,他指着我:你等着,我把你拖出去挖个坑埋了!

我气得混身发抖:我等着你们把我给埋了。我知道你们做得出来,但是你记住了,总有一天,你们会受到审判!

已经是被绑架的第三天了,怎样才能让外面的朋友知道我的下落?

看守我的人至少有五班,每班两人一男一女,大约两小时一换。每次“二号”一进来,看守立即出去,“二号”一出去,看守立即进来。从看守们简短的交谈中能听出 来,他们是从不同部门抽调来的。他们可能完全不知道我的情况。如果我大声自言自语,让他们知道我是谁,我是如何被绑架到这里来的,他们中间会有人把消息带 出去吗?我不相信这几天接触过的所的人都是铁板一块、铁石心肠。我把头埋在双膝上默默地想着,门“砰”地开了,涌进来一帮人,其中一个紧挨着我坐在了床垫 上。是“一号”,那个小流氓。他用胳膊肘捅捅我的肋骨:

抬头!看我!

我不动,沉默。他捅一下,又捅一下。仍然沉默。他点上烟,吸一口,找准位置,“噗”~把烟从我趴着的头和胳膊缝隙间吐进来。我朝远处挪了挪,继续埋着头。他也跟着挪到床垫中间:

呃,你怎么这么淡定啊?在台湾受过训吧?周围嘻嘻哈哈一片笑声。

从 这句话里,我再次确认他们不是国保,而是国安。他们接受的就是这样的信息吧?我是间谍,是特务,危害了国家安全,是国家的敌人。否则怎么能让这些受过教育 的年轻人下这样的狠手而不会感到良心不安呢?怎么让他们相信自己从事的职业是有尊严的呢?这会儿他们不是来审讯我的,他们显然是闲得无聊来找乐子。我始终 埋着头,一言不发。闹了一阵,实在没什么可乐的。一帮人扬长而去。

之后的时间里,“二号”不时会走进来站一会,和我交谈几句,我知道他在研究我背包里的东西。

你那个双肩背是装摄影机的,还是放照相机的?

都有。

东西呢?放朋友家了。

他想知道那些SD卡是干嘛用的。那卡是专业设备用的,如果他用普通相机看不到里面的数据。

416的纪录片是你制作的?

对。

不怎么样嘛。会讲故事的人都会做,没什么技巧。

谢谢夸奖!纪录片的最高境界就是无技巧。

你为什么关注这几个人?

我爱他们。

你还挺逗,你爱的人那么多,却不结婚。

我说的爱和你说的两码事。

他在看416的片子,那让无数人激动过的场景不知道是不是也会感动他。很想告诉他,那就是爱。

你有几部手机?

好几部。

为什么把它们拆开来?

准备做清洁。

为什么不开机?

省电话费。

他在检查我的手机。我有两部手机,那部专门用来上推的买了没几个月。被他碰过了,脏了···

你过去的生活不错嘛,去过不少国家。

是啊,我的理想就是周游世界。

他在看我拍的照片?U盘里肯定没有。是看我的博客吗?

赚钱不少吧。

我赚的每一分钱都是干净的。

你不想回到原来的生活去吗?

每天都想。就是回不去了。

我可以帮助你。

你帮助我?你怎么帮助我?你能让结石宝宝健康吗?你能让赵连海被释放吗?你能让汶川地震中被豆腐渣校舍砸死的孩子复活吗?···

难道这个国家就没有让你满意的地方?

我只想问你一个问题:为什么把我绑架来?我违法了吗?世界上有任何一个文明国家的政府会这么做吗?

当然会呀。美国中情局也会绑架的。

小伙子,你美国大片看多了吧?美国中情局只对外,不对内,它不可能绑架美国公民。

你从来不知道妥协吗?

不同利益团体可以妥协,不同利益诉求可以妥协。和流氓怎么妥协?和强暴你的人怎么妥协?他说要强暴十次,你说两次算妥协?他说要强暴一小时,你说二十分钟算妥协?

“二号”扭头出去了。

又是一个不眠之夜,早晨起来感觉异常虚弱,身上穿的牛仔背带工装裤整整肥了一圈。穿上鞋,摇摇晃晃站起来,松松垮垮地裤脚竟踩在了脚下。弯下腰去挽起一截,再站起来时,只觉眼前一黑。

听见一片噪杂的人声,感觉离我很远。有人在掐我的仁中,指甲几乎嵌进了骨头。痛得睁开眼睛,看到打手那张幸灾乐祸的脸。软软地仰面躺着,无力反抗。周围站着五、六个人,有“三号”,还有东城区国保大队周队长。对,现在我可以确定就是他。虽然他仍然带着墨镜,一言不发。

走,穿好外衣,跟我们走。

被人架起来,第三次带上黑头套,塞进一辆轿车的后座,一左一右被两个男人押着,离开了这个囚禁了四天的地方。

不知道要被带去哪里,用心辨别着方向。车子不停地拐来拐去,有人打进电话,听出接电话的是副驾驶位置坐着的周国保,听他长长地叹了一口气,大概这趟差事办得有点窝囊。

走了大约两小时左右,传来火车站广播喇叭声:各位旅客请注意···是遣返!

你们要把我送到哪里去?我连换洗衣服都没有。你们必须通知我的家人。我一把拽下黑头套。两个男人大声喝斥着按住我,黑头套立即又被罩上。右边的那个人用手按 住我的头,我的下巴死死地抵在胸前不能动掸,绑架那天被弄伤的背部痛得像要裂开来。我一边喊:放开我!一边反抗。坐在前座的周国保厉声制止。右边的男人狠 狠攥住了我的手,使劲揉搓。你挣!你挣啊!他的声音低得只有我一人能听见。是那个打手,他在报复我!

周国保开门下了车。打手一边将我的手腕往后扣,一边从牙缝里骂:你叫啊,快叫!你不是厉害吗?我就捏死你!捏死你这个贱B!

我大声反击:你这人渣,给我提鞋都不配!有本事你就弄死我!

我的手腕被他拧得和胳膊形成了30度锐角。四肢开始痙挛,渐渐麻木,失去了知觉。

周国保回到车里。车子启动,行驶不远,停下。

下去!

我的腿动不了。

你TMD装什么装?!

打手用脚踢我,接着把我往外拖。在拖出车门前,黑头套被摘了下来。

是站台,就在火车车厢门口。秋日明媚的阳光穿过站台洒在了我的脸上。光天化日、朗朗乾坤下,我被公然绑架,就这样被两个男人在地上拖着···泪水终于夺眶而出。

我哭喊着:放开我!放开我!

有人从后面抱住了我。你们别这样对她。你们放开她。

我抬头看:你是谁?

我是陈明。(作者化名)

啊?陈明,是你吗?

是我。我来接你回新余!

陈明,江西新余广电局办公室主任,我好朋友的丈夫。多年不见了,我们竟以这样的方式相逢。

陈明抱着四肢麻木的我登上了火车。乘客还没进站,软卧车厢里只有我、陈明,和两个自称是街道办干部的便衣警察。

四十分钟后,火车驶离了北京西站,整整68小时,我终于脱离了黑帮的魔掌,开始了被软禁的日子。

三、 软禁

新余,是江西的一座省辖市。二十一年前,我曾是新余日报的一名记者。1989年辞职后,有过一段浪迹天涯的日子。记不得是哪一年了,我回新余办护照,那时我 的户口还在报社的集体户上,开个证明就得千里迢迢跑回去。于是,我和好友,陈明的妻子建建商量,把户口落到他家,这类琐事以后就可以拜托建建帮我办了。就 这样,陈明成了我的户主。

大约在我被绑架前一个月左右,国保找到陈明了解我的情况。他们告诉陈明,我参与了一些重要的维权活动。陈明回家和建建说:不会是华泽吧?她会参与这些事吗?建建肯定的回答:就是她,没错。我了解她。

10月28号晚上,陈明接到领导的通知,让他和市国保一起来北京接我,途中一切费用由陈明所在的单位支付。不知道陈明有没有后悔当年同意我把户口转到他家?不知道领导有没有责怪他“交友不慎”?总之,陈明和他的单位被我株连了。

一登上开往江西的火车,我就要求检查背包。便衣把包递过来,我刚打开背包拉链,手机就掉了出来,女便衣一把抢过:手机我先替你保管。她不知道的是,我另外还 有一部手机。这部手机是专门上推的,我从未用它打过电话,干净得就像初生的婴儿。去东北出差,打电话的那部手机只有一块电池,以防万一,我在这部上推的手 机里,存了两个当时正在拍摄的朋友的电话。依我的记性,自己家的电话号码,如果不存在手机里都是记不住的。这次细心救了我。

我把幸存的手机 悄悄塞在裤兜里。车开后,乘上厕所的机会打了两个电话。第一个打给浦志强,电话响了很久,他没有接。第二个打给滕彪,通话时声音很杂,断断续续,我告诉 他:我被绑架了,绑架我的人中有一个是东城区的国保;我现在正被送往江西新余;我的电脑还在机场,请务必设法帮我拿回来。没说几句电话就断了。这时,浦志 强的电话打了进来,他告诉我,自27号从伊春回北京后他也被软禁着,但是可以与外界联系。我把和滕彪说的话对他重复了一遍,他顿了顿,謓重地对我说:这是 你自己选择的生活。它早晚都要来的。你要学会独自面对。我说:好,我知道了。

后来,50天与世隔绝的日子里,我曾多次想到这句话,我把它当成一个先行者对后进的忠告。因为,这,就是我们的生活。

打完这两个电话,手机还剩一格电。我不知道前面有什么在等着我,我要留着这格电,危险来临时用它呼救。虽然我不知道谁能救我,怎样救我。总之,我不能就这样消失,我要让朋友们知道我的消息。

在火车上,来接我的两个便衣好奇地向我问起了刘晓波。这是自我失去自由后,第一次有人向我提起这三个字。

你和刘晓波是什么关系?

刘晓波是干什么的?

······

我的猜测得到了证实。因为我在《关于刘晓波获得诺贝尔和平奖的声明》上的签名。姓名:华泽,居住地:北京,职业:纪录片导演。就这么几个字,他们绑架了我,接下来他们还要囚禁我。同时得到证实的是,绑架我的就是国安。

这是一个野蛮国家、黑帮政府。文明社会的准则在这里不被遵守。与一百年前的清末相比,惟一的差别是,对异议人士由杀头、流放,变成了绑架、失踪。这一切必须改变!

于是,我开始给他们讲八九六四,讲零八宪章,讲诺贝尔和平奖···说到这些我开始兴致盎然起来——既然有司要用绑架,囚禁的方式让我分享晓波诺奖的荣誉,那么,我不能枉担了虚名,我要一路播散火种。

火车快到终点站时,两名便衣和陈明都对我说:我们只负责接你,到新余后不会再见面了。希望你不要吃眼前亏,该服软就服个软。

我笑着谢谢他们的好意,我的字典里没有“服软”这两个字。

到火车站来接我的新余市国保陈建军(音译)大约四十岁左右,一看就是军人出身,没读过多少书。刚上车他就开始给我上课:

什么家丑不可外扬啊,你们把家丑扬到国际上去,影响了国家形象;

什么你们不能钻法律的空子啊,拿法律做武器,法律又不是一切;

什么你们的出发点可能是好的啊,但是被国外反华势力利用了。

我一点都不擅长这样八股的话题,不过看他被洗脑成这样,只能耐心回应:

就是怕影响国家形象才呼吁释放刘晓波,怎么能把诺奖得主关在监狱里呢?获诺奖是我们的百年梦想之一嘛;

法律是执政党制定的,维护法律的尊严怎么是钻法律的空子呢?不拿法律做武器,难道让我们用坦克做武器吗?

说到国外反华势力,我很想知道它是怎么利用我的?

他说:我不了解你,回头我们再谈。

我严肃的告诉他:不了解就不要乱扣帽子。花点时间了解了再来和我谈。

我最烦不敬业的人,为什么这次让我碰到的都是不敬业的人?为什么不多花点心思了解我,不知道我是吃软不吃硬的人吗?我认为,哪怕是国保、国安这样无耻的职业也应该做得敬业。

到新余后,我被直接送到了消防宾馆。这个宾馆座落在城市北部边缘,六层楼高,最初应该是按三星级标准装修的,不过现在看起来已经有些陈旧了,好在被褥还算柔 软、白净,卫生间也挺宽敝。我住在二楼9207房间,据说这是整个宾馆惟一的三人间。两个女警与我同住,两个男警住在隔壁。每班四人,共两班,二十四小时 一换,我的贴身“保镖”共八人。

一进房间,女国保欧阳就向我宣布了几条纪律:不能与外界联系;不能会见朋友;活动范围不能出这座楼。

“保镖”们自我介绍时,只说姓,不提名。说自己是刑警、经警、治安警,就没有人承认自己是国保。看来这个警种还真是见不得人。不过,我这双已经阅国保无数的眼 睛,一眼就看出了端倪。八个人中有三个市公安局的国保,其余的人都是从各分局抽调来的。我的安保级别高到他们从没经历过,分局的几个人,就连他们的顶头上 司也只知道他们被抽调来执行任务,至于在哪里执行任务,执行什么任务,一律保密。

市国保胡支队长来了——说是领导,没人介绍他的身份。时间长了,我自己琢磨出来的——领导很客气,他说这是公安部统一布置,你在这里呆多久取决于上面的命令。新余方面一分钟都不想让你停留。希望你能配合,他劝我把这当做一次度假疗养。

我向胡支队长提出要给母亲打电话报平安。母亲快七十岁了,没有我的消息她会着急。胡支队长说要向上面请示。

没有人找我谈话,也没有人向我宣布限制自由的理由。总之,我这只知起点不知终点的软禁生活开始了。

进卫生间先给滕彪发信息:我住在新余消防宾馆9207房间。新余警方对我很客气,请放心。——手机只有一点点余电,不敢等回复,赶紧关掉。

然后洗澡。第五天了,这套衣服没离过身,床上睡着也是它,地上躺着也是它。一分钟都不能再忍受。

脱掉衣服,检阅被绑架四天“收获”的伤痛:仁中月牙型的伤口很深。至今轻轻触碰仍有针扎般的刺痛;被撞伤的背部在颈椎下方,晚上睡觉一直不能翻身;四肢和右 手布满青紫色的瘀血,还有扭伤的右脚。仁中和右手的伤是遣返那天打手留下的。其它地方是怎么伤到的?绑架那天曾数次昏厥,怎么也想不起来他们究竟对我做过 什么。

洗完澡已经疲惫不堪,睡在靠窗的床上,透过铁栅栏的隔断看新余的天空。这里没有我任何亲人,它完全是一座陌生的城市,我甚至连宾馆的方位都不知道。

我要习惯和两个“保镖”共处一室。她们睡觉千万别打呼、别磨牙、别说梦话。长期失眠,使我对睡眠的环境要求很苛刻,必须非常安静、非常干净。

计划11月的欧洲旅行是去不了啦,以后说不定会被限制出境,周游世界的梦想或许就此结束了;滕彪帮我拿回笔记本电脑了吗?千万别落在黑帮手里;我第一次有了 不好的银行信用:信用卡过了还款日,去欧洲旅行的机票刷了两万多,那会是一大笔利息吧?每天要吃的药没有带怎么办?身体会出现什么后果?

我想来想去怎么都是身外之事?自由都没有了,这些还有什么可担心的?不能周游世界就不能吧,好些人连北京都没离开过呢;信用不好就不好吧,反正以后也没打算 从银行贷款;笔记本电脑滕彪一定会想办法帮我拿的,即使拿不回来也没办法;药不吃又有什么了不起?被绑架时连死的准备都做好了。惟一不放心的是母亲,她有 心脏病。10月8号诺奖公布那天晚上,许多朋友在庆祝聚餐时被抓,第二天母亲离开北京回江西,在火车站告别时曾向她保证:我不会有事,放心吧!现在我只想 对她说:对不起!妈妈,我没有遵守诺言。

即来之,则安之。烦躁、愤怒都不起任何作用,那会影响我的敏锐性和判断力。我对自已说,很好,就当作是对内心定力的训练吧。

第 二天一早,去火车站接我的国保陈建军推门进屋,一边接电话,一边指着我:你和北京联系了?你还有通讯工具?他扭头示意两个女“保镖”:搜她身,包,床! ——我的手机被搜走了,那是我与外界联系的惟一希望。顺便搜走的还有背包里的一些小型专业设备:无线音频发射器、微型摄像机,他们不知道那是干什么用的, 全都拿走才放心。

包里只剩下一本摄像机的说明书。我自己拿起摄像机拍片子的时间不长,摄像机的一些功能还记不住,随身带着说明书,需要的时候可以查阅。在后来的许多天,这本说明书就成了我惟一的读物。

每天的日子大致是这样度过的:

清晨七点半起床,洗漱后下楼吃早餐;上午看书、写日记,练瑜珈;十一点半午餐;下午看书,练普拉提斯(一种融合了瑜珈和健美操的有氧运动)、洗澡;晚餐后看电视、睡觉。

开始时很不适应。“保镖”们从早到晚开着电视,那些噪音让人心烦意乱。不过,很快我就学会了在电视声中看书、写日记、健身···

一天晚餐后我说要出去散步,陈建军打电话请示领导,得到的答复是:可以散步,但不能离开宾馆的院子。于是,我的生活多了一个项目。

每天傍晚,我上身一件贴身红毛衣,下身是宽松的背带牛仔工装裤,外套黑色风衣(这些是我被绑架时的全部衣装),在四个“保镖”前呼后拥下,绕场二十圈(那阵势一定很可笑)。

这个宾馆入住的人很少,院子呈长方型,东西80步,南北35步。整座楼只有两个窗户是被钢条封死的,其中一间就是我住的9207。第一天散步,就发现了院子东南角一棵不大的桂花树。这个长满黄白色小花、香气袭人的绿色植物,给我孤独而漫长的软禁生活带来了些许生气。

到新余第一天就提出要和母亲通电话。一周后还没有得到答复。11月9日早餐时再次提出要求。陈建军说:本来给你母亲打个电话也不是不可以,但是你藏了一个手机,而且和外界联系了,造成了恶劣的后果。所以不能让你和母亲通电话。

造成什么恶劣后果?

这个我不能告诉你。

我一下就冒火了:即使我是罪犯,你们还得通知我的家人呢。对一个守法的公民你们却连起码的人道都不讲。我有另一个手机,是北京警方交接时没有告诉你们,那不 是我的错。向朋友通报消息是我的权利。你们要以此来惩罚我?好吧。不是怕我与外界联系吗?从现在开始,我宣布绝食!我倒下时你们得送我去医院吧?到医院我 就大声呼救,告诉所有人你们绑架了我。说完,我离开餐桌,扬长而去。听到后面几个人追上来的脚步声。

小陈不懂事,你别和他生气!

不懂事没关系,千万别没人性。谁都有父母高堂。

你要和母亲通话我们也做不了主,得向上面请示。

给了你们九天时间,向联合国请示也应该有答复了。

回到房间,我开始了第一次绝食。争取与母亲的通话权!

上午,胡支队长来了:我这就请示领导,问题不大,但得有一个时间周期吧?你先吃饭。

请示吧,我等着。和母亲通话前我不会进食的。

第二天一早,陈建军笑容可鞠地进来了:上面说你可以和母亲通电话。只是有两个条件:一,你不能说绑架、软禁。也不能说你现在在新余;二,手机要拿在我手里,要打开免提。可以不?

本来我也没打算告诉母亲我的遭遇,只想报个平安让她放心。

他们拨通了我母亲的电话,拿着手机放在我耳边。听到母亲焦虑的声音:你在哪啊?为什么手机一直关机?我们都以为你出事了。

平静地向母亲撒谎:我在欧洲旅行,电话坏了。国际漫游太贵。不能经常给您打。放心吧,国外比国内安全多了。

我以前每次出国旅行,登机前、到达后都会打电话告诉母亲;离京前会把在国外的行程、国外朋友的电话、预订宾馆的地址、购买各种意外险的单号和保险公司名称email给弟弟。这次完全一反常态,不知道母亲是否真的相信了?

此后每周我被允许和母亲通一次电话报平安。为了能和母亲保持通话,我不能冒险向她暗示我的处境。

无眠的夜晚是那么漫长,我用思念充满它们,思念的感觉既温暖又悲伤:

10 年前的圣诞夜,在三里屯的一间酒吧里,我认识了北大在读博士许志永。那天,一票朋友和朋友的朋友们在那里狂欢,喧闹噪杂的环境中,我和志永静静地交谈,他 谈自己的宪政理想,谈他定点做基层选举田野调查的乡村···这些话题深深打动了我,因为他的理想也正是我的理想。十年后他为我争取言论自由的案件做代理, 给予了我许多无私的帮助。

认识滕彪是在一次法律援助研讨会上,志永向他介绍我将要起诉的案件,他毫不犹豫的说:好。支持!第二次见面是在大兴法院声援赵连海,面对用摄像机偷拍我们的便衣,他大声说出那句:我叫滕彪,你敢说出你的名字吗?令现场所有女性倾倒。

一年多来,我参与、拍摄了许多或由公盟发起,或由公盟援助、或由公盟关注的公民行动与法律个案:暴力拆迁、教育平等、74推友日、赵连海案、福建三网民案、 夏峻峰案、冷国权案··· 共同的理念和行动,使我们结下了深厚的友谊。在我的心里,志永和滕彪不仅是我的战友,他们如同我的手足。

去年初,我因发表《寻找中国之路》被国保骚扰,我打电话向庆妈诉说内心的绝望与无助。庆妈是谭作人的妻子,我认识多年的朋友。庆妈说:你需要一名律师,去找浦 志强吧。于是给志强打电话,半小时后在他凌乱不堪的办公室里我们第一次见面。在志强面前,我觉得自己完全不像是个学法律的人,就是个絮絮叨叨的求助者。他 打断我:

这不算什么,你没事。

那么,如果我有事,你能答应做我的律师吗?

我答应。

从此,一遇到 麻烦我就会向他诉说,仍然是絮絮叨叨,直到把他说烦为止,他脸上的表情和神态,明明白白地写着,我就是那个老叫狼来了的孩子。直到10月24日我在伊春与 他分手,去丹东与滕彪会合。短短几天里,他每次打电话、发短信,结尾总有两个字:保重!我突然感到:他在向我预警。而此刻,让我悲哀的是,在这片土地上, 预警,是我的律师惟一能为我做的事情。

第一次知道崔卫平的名字是因为海子。那时我准备为诗人海子做一部传记片。在查找资料时,我看到崔老师 研究海子的系列文章。第一眼,她的文字就打动了我,从那以后,几乎读遍了所有能找到的她的文章。第一次见到她是在送别屠夫去福州的晚宴上。那是416的前 奏,屠夫去福州为三网友案打前站,前途凶险。崔老师高调加入关注团以示声援。她说:今天我们不关心世界,我们只关心屠夫。几天后她写下了长诗《这些义人们 哪》 ,其中有一段竟是为我而作。

还有王荔蕻大姐、屠夫、天天、王译、张辉、阿尔、强本···

每次想到你们都会有一股暖暖的细流划过面颊,那是内心涌出的感动,它无声地融入黑夜,迎来天明。

11 月14日晚餐后,回到房间不久,我正靠在床上看书。听到敲门声,我没有在意,以为是隔壁的”保镖”。女国保欧阳去开门,听到外面有人说:找华泽,欧阳 “咣”的一声关上了门。心里立即明白了是怎么回事。只听到外面有人高声喊:华泽,华泽,你答应一声,让我们知道你在里面。我迅速从床上坐起来,女国保愣愣 地看着我。外面的声音更大了:华泽,我们爱你!眼泪奔涌而出,不顾一切冲向房门。因为欧阳站在旁边,门只能打开一条缝,看到门外一女两男,三张陌生的面 孔。

我是华泽,你们是?

我们是网友,来看你的。

你们从哪里来?

他们是新余的,我是奉新的陈茂森,还记得我吗?

当然记得。

我们在推特上有过交流,记得这个大头照很帅的小伙子,不过本人看起来比照片上更清秀一些。我伸出手和他们一一相握。那种温暖无以言表。女网友递过来一束鲜花,他们说了一些保重之类的话。欧阳从后面把门重重地关上了。

屋内死一般的沉寂,随后欧阳一边换衣服,一边说:那两个人是新钢的,所谓的维权人士,他们很坏,专门挑动别人和政府做对···根本没听清她在说什么。心里只 有一个念头。太好了,欧阳认出了那两个网友,网友也一定认出了她。他们今晚就会在推上公布我的消息。我不可能从这个世界消失而不为人所知了。

欧阳换好衣服,急急忙忙出去了,留下另一个”保镖”和我。她找领导汇报去了。出了大事,我被暴露了,他们一定开始忙乱了。

第二天一早,胡支队长来了,通知我收拾东西转移住处。

新搬去的宾馆离消防宾馆并不远,叫新蓝天商务大酒店。这个酒店没有院子,楼外就是大街,我要散步必须得走出去。其实,在此之前,他们有时也会允许我到大门外面去散步了。

这 个酒店没有自己的餐厅,要到隔壁的酒楼用餐,每顿饭要不得超标,要不就吃得不好。房间里也没有空调,很冷。在这里住了十天,我倒没有什么意见,可”保镖” 们受不了了。看看没什么危险,网友不过是来看望一下,也没打算劫持我。于是第十一天,在”保镖”们的强烈要求下,我们又搬回了消防宾馆。

搬回消防宾馆不久的一天夜里,我做了一个梦。冬日清晨的峨眉山上,大雪缓缓飘落,远近山峦白茫茫一片。晨钟从山脚下的寺院响起,一波一波往上传,一直响到山 顶,此起彼伏。这是1994年春节的真实场景。那年,我第一次到四川,认识了谭作人夫妇。16年后,一模一样的场景出现在我的梦中。而这时,我的生活因谭 叔被判刑已彻底改变。

大约11月底的时候,我听到一个消息,说可能要软禁我到2011年春节后,甚至有人说会无限期软禁。既然我被绑架、软禁是因为晓波获奖,那么12月10日诺奖颁布后必须获释,这是我的心理底线。否则,我将绝食,以死抗争。我必须把这个消息送出去。

平时,我每天都记日记,我的日记记得非常潦草,基本上没有完整的段落,就是一些只言片语,提示我自己不要忘记发生了哪些重要的事情,和当时的内心感受。因为 我知道欧阳常常偷看我的日记。只要我离开房间,我就会在日记上做记号,日记摆放的角度,一根发丝等等。所以,我要送出去的消息必须非常秘密,不能被她发 现。

这个纸条是夜晚躲在厕所里写的,大意是:我被软禁了,不能和家人联系,请帮我将这个短信发给186···和139···(这两个号码是 滕彪和浦志强的手机。在火车上我已经把它们牢牢地记在了心里。这两个电话号码,我一辈子都不会忘记了)。以下是短信内容:1、我的手机已被没收,这是请陌 生人帮忙发的信息。请不要公布出去。2、如果颁奖日之后还不释放我,我会绝食,请设法救我。3、如果可能(我担心他们也被限制了自由),我委托你们做我的 律师。我有一份写给浦志强的委托书放在家中(附具体放置的地方、有我家钥匙的某人联系方式)。4、我在新余国保手中,现软禁在新余消防宾馆9207房间。 我把这张纸条和50元钱放在了贴身的衣兜里。

12月1日晚上外出散步时,我将纸条和钱一起塞给了一位事先物色好的陌生人(恕我不能说出更多的细节)。我并不知道,这个陌生人是否能替我把短信发出去,但我能做到的只有这些了,剩下的就是听天由命。

两天后,我又外出散步时,再次遇见了这个陌生人。他竟然等在那里,并且向我做了一个OK的手势。

离诺奖颁奖日越近,我的内心越焦虑。失去自由的日子,每一天都如一年那么漫长。我感觉自己进入了一个漫无边际的黑暗隧道。我知道前面有光,却总也看不到。

许多个夜晚都被心悸折磨,它总是在刚入睡时向我袭来,难以形容的心慌,四肢发软,想大声喊叫。必须竭力控制自己才不会发狂。那种感觉是多么无助,我不断对自己说:不能崩溃!不能崩溃!

即使到诺奖颁奖日第二天就释放我,我也已经与世隔绝整整45天了。对于视自由比生命还重要的我来说,这样的代价实在是太大了。有时我会想,如果当初被绑架 后,我的态度不是那样强硬,他们问什么我说什么,他们也许会放了我,或者只是限制我的行动,不会让我与世隔绝。是的,这完全有可能。不过,我一点也不后 悔。从他们采取暴力绑架我的那一刻起,他们就阻断了与我谈判的可能。我不是不能妥协,我是不能向暴力屈服。

没有人可以要挟我,暴力不能,利益不能、甚至亲情也不能。不要以为柔弱就没有力量,不要以为渺小就没有尊严。弱者和强者之间的差别不在力量的强弱,而在信念的坚定。

终于熬到了诺奖颁奖日那一天。按照诺奖公布日的时间推测,颁奖应该是在北京时间下午五点左右。按我的情况推测,所有可能去挪威的人都会受到限制。所以,国内 没有人可能到现场。我希望,领奖台上,和领奖台下被邀请的嘉宾席上,是一排排空椅子,镜头缓缓推向这些空椅子。它再好不过的说明了中国的人权状况,说明了 这个奖颁给晓波的伟大意义。想到那个场景,我哭了(在我获释后不久,终于看到了颁奖的录像。那个场景———真是空椅子!)。

12月11日早上,我宣布绝食!

下午,新余市公安局张局长来了。他说昨天已经亲自去江西省公安厅请示汇报了,这一两天就会有答复,希望我有一点耐心。他问我有什么要求。我说,1、告诉我继续软禁的理由;2、告诉我结束软禁的时间。

听天由命的躺在床上,听任意识慢慢消失。身体是飘浮的,没有重量,仿佛另一个我,不,是灵魂,离开了肉体,它升到半空俯视着:

你能坚持多久?

我笑着说:挑战极限。

你要毁掉自己吗?

不。这恰恰是使自己完满。他们想用粗鄙、丑恶、苍白毁掉我,我则以精致、纯净、丰满来对抗。他们可以毁掉我的肉体,但我的内心,他们永远无法毁掉。

12月15日

胡支队长来回复我的要求:1、颁奖日后还有一个音乐会。而且,外地有许多维权人士到北京去了,北京警方忙不过来,所以现在还不能放你回去;2、20日之前一定放你走。前提是你必须进食。

当天,绝食结束。

12月17日晚上,胡支队长再次光临:告诉你一个好消息。20号你就自由了。你要去哪里?

我要回北京。

怎么回去?

火车、飞机都可以。

你让陈明帮你买票吧。

我不是来旅游的,也不是来探亲访友的。你们怎么把我接来,还怎么把我送回去。我身上没有钱了。如果你们不送我回去,我就等在这里,让北京的朋友来接我。

好吧,我向上面请示一下。

第二天我得到答复:20号帮你买好卧铺票,送你上车。

四、自由!自由?

12月19日上午,胡支队长通知我收拾东西,离开宾馆。他说新余买不到去北京的卧铺票,已经请分宜公安局安排。我们今天先去分宜,明天下午从分宜送你上车。

内心开始不安。他说的理由不合逻辑。新余是直辖市,分宜是新余下辖的县。市局连火车票都买不到,还要县局安排吗?

分宜离新余只有30多公里,开车半个多小时就到了县城,两辆车穿过县城的闹市区,向郊外驶去。越走越荒芜,最后开到一个山脚下的度假村。分宜县公安局的人在 这里等着我们。我们一行是这个度假村惟一住宿的人。可能是山里的原因,这里非常冷,比城里气温至少低3度。整个晚上我都裹在被子里胡思乱想:他们是不是要 送我去劳教?会不会逮捕我?今年五月份就有一个在江西因“煽颠罪”被捕,后取保候审的朋友告诉我,江西警方向他调查过我。

“保镖”在一旁玩电脑。我请她帮我查一下从分宜到北京的火车,明天下午到达和离开的时间。她百度了一下,吃惊的说:这趟车在分宜不停。

我开始发脾气:问你们领导,到底要把我送到哪里去。这”保镖”是一个年轻、单纯的姑娘。她说:我们得到的命令就是明天下午任务结束啊。明天一定会放你走的。你不要乱想,领导会安排好的。

一会儿,新余市公安局张局长打电话说要来看我,不知道路怎么走。分宜县局的人开车出去接。等了许久,另一个”保镖”进来说,领导没接到。明天上午一定会来,局长说要为你送行。我感觉情况越来越诡异。

一夜未眠,第二天早晨起床后,没和”保镖”打招呼,我自己开门径直走出去,坐在院子里晒太阳。心里非常乱,怎么也想不通,如果要释放我,为什么把我弄到这里来。几个”保镖”赶紧跟出来安慰我:不会有事的。领导一定会安排好的,如果今天不放你走,我们和你一起绝食。

快到中午时终于出发了,目标是分宜县一家高档餐厅。一桌人等着我们。张局长,胡支队长。另外四人是省公安厅来的。其中一个年长者(领导模样)说:我们接你去南昌,坐飞机回北京。

手机什么时候还给我?我要打电话让朋友来机场接我。

别着急,会还给你的。

完全没有心情用餐。从新余到南昌明明更近,为什么要拐到分宜再去南昌?

省厅来的四个人中有一个女性,姓熊(依然没有介绍自己的身份),客气得让我不忍说她是国保···华老师,您看江西的变化很大吧?您帮我们宣传宣传呀。

我不做宣传,我只负责批评。

华老师不是做历史人文纪录片吗?我们江西历史很深厚啊。

那倒是。我曾经对江西的古代书院做过一点研究,不过当时我所在的部门,认为这个选题收视率不会高,所以最后没有批下来。

那好啊,您提出方案,我们帮您安排。资金、接待,我们提供一切方便。

哈哈哈哈···,好啊。

看这个架式不像是要送我劳教什么的,倒像是要招安。这太有意思了。

午餐后,我和省厅四人及新余女”保镖”一人,乘福特商务车,新余国保陈建军开一辆轿车跟随,一路浩浩荡荡直奔南昌。

快到南昌时,省厅那位年长者说:现在离飞机起飞还有几个小时,我们陪华老师去看看滕王阁。

在滕王阁一层茶室里,进行了一次精心安排的“友好”谈话:

华老师,这次在江西呆了快两个月,我们新余的同志对您照顾还周到吗?

很好。麻烦你们了。

您也是学法律的,我也是。有关法律的问题咱们就不谈了,有些事情留待历史来评价。您看好不好。

我无言,笑笑。

我今天不是以什么身份和您谈话,只是年长您几岁,您能不能听我一句忠告?

请讲。

以后刘晓波的事就不要参与了。

刘晓波哪些事?

比如签名活动。

签名不会总有的。

好,那就好。

还有关于江西警方的事就不要出去说了。

江西警方很不错呀,文明执法。

以后我们就是朋友了。江西有什么事,您只管说,我们一定尽量帮忙。您和我们小熊互相留个电话,以后常联系(她是我的专职客服了?)。欢迎您常回来。但不要以这种方式回来。

会常回来的。我还有家人在这里呢。不过,会不会以这种方式回来可能不取决于我。

您提到的江西古代书院的项目很不错呀,您写个东西给我们,我们马上可以着手办。没有问题的。

好,需要的时候一定找您。

那我们就这样说定了。

晚上七点,我被送到机场贵宾室。小熊要我的身份证去办登机牌。我再一次要求把手机还给我。小熊说:手机我帮您托运吧。

正色对她说:手机是贵重物品,不能托运。你必须还给我。到北京太晚了,我身上衣服单薄,我必须打电话让朋友来接我。

衣服我给您准备了。我知道您身上钱不够,也帮您准备了打车回家的钱。另外,我们厅里还准备了一些礼品,我会把手机包装好一起托运的。

你们是担心我打电话,北京会有欢迎团来机场接我是吗?天气太冷,到达北京的时间也很晚了,我不会让很多人来接我的。这个我可以答应你。

还是托运了吧。

不能答应你的事我不会答应,只要答应了我就会做到,请把手机还给我。

年长者发话了:还给华老师吧。华老师您既然明说了,我也告诉您,我们确实担心再弄出什么事情来,我们也是为您好,希望您平安回家。

飞机八点起飞,七点四十分,我被从贵宾室直接送上了飞机,在登机口,向省厅一行挥挥手,掉头走进机舱,立即打开手机,向滕彪报平安。

这一刻,我才确定,真的自由了!

回到北京的第二天,我知道了江西警方在临近释放我的最后两天费尽周折,把我转来转去的真正原因:滕彪、许志永、屠夫等人已于18日成立了飘香关注团,包括四位律师在内的各地关注团成员已决定前往新余营救我。
获得自由后的第十一天,当新年钟声响起的时候,我写下了这样一段文字:我有一个梦想:希望在不久的未来,我的朋友不要再被绑架、被失踪、被囚禁,不要再颠沛流离、背井离乡。

(全文完)

2011-01-15

http://www.hrichina.org/crf/article/5512

视频下载:

第一部分http://url.cn/37yrG6

第二部分http://url.cn/3bD2Tv

 

HRIC:The Ordeal of a Fragrant Soul

3 Mar

http://www.hrichina.org/crf/article/5512

Hua Ze

The Kidnapping

I have stayed in Northeast China for two weeks, filming during the daytime, and surfing the Internet at night. I know that after Liu Xiaobo was awarded the Nobel Prize, Beijing became very tense. After consulting with Teng Biao,1 I decided to stay in his office in Wangjing, a suburb outside Beijing, for a while and return to Beijing after it recovers from the madness.

On October 27, 2010, I board my flight around noon and turn off my mobile phone so that my location cannot be tracked. I take out the battery and SIM card, breaking off communications with others.

Around 3:00 p.m., I land at Beijing Airport, say goodbye to Teng Biao and others, and take the airport shuttle bus to Wangjing with his assistant, Huanhuan. On the highway, I realize my notebook computer is missing. My damned memory! I must have left it on the plane.

Upon arriving at Teng Biao’s office, I put down my luggage and use a landline to contact the “lost and found” office at the airport. I am told that they have information on my computer in their database. I immediately go to the College of Administration for Civil Aviation Officials, a block away, to take the shuttle bus to the airport.

As I approach the college gates, someone grabs me from behind and drags me backwards, face up, as a black hood comes down from above. My first thought is that the black hood is thick and stinks of feet.

“Help!” I hear myself cry and struggle desperately, hoping that I can hold on until the people who witness the kidnapping can report it to the police. During the struggle, the black hood falls off. As seven to eight strongmen are stuffing me head down and feet up into a white minivan, I resist by hooking my feet to the door frame, while a kidnapper’s distorted face stares down ferociously and says: “If you go on resisting, you will die!” A moment later, I lose consciousness.

When I wake up, I feel the minivan stop and think we have arrived at the destination. Soon the minivan starts to move again, and stop again. After several rounds of stopping and going, it speeds up. I realize that we were waiting at traffic lights, and now we are on a highway heading to the suburbs.

I don’t how long afterwards; cold water hits me in the face. In a daze, I see a dark room, with one light, aimed directly at my face. Many faces are swaying in front of me. A hand reaches out, grabs my collar, yanks me up from the ground, and throws me onto a stool. My head hits the wall hard. I taste blood, and my chest hurts. It reminds me of the “Garbage Cave” from the novel The Red Rock.2

After fainting several times, I finally wake up. I am lying on a bed. Although my body is extremely weak, as if a tide has receded from the top of my head, my mind is gradually becoming clear: so everything is finally happening. So quick! I don’t know what time it is. Do my friends know I am missing? Tomorrow at the latest, Huanhuan will go to the office and should realize that I never returned after I left. Surely she will inform Teng Biao.

After looking around, I guess that I am in a hostel in the suburbs. The room is about 12 square meters; the door and toilet are to the north, and a window to the south. A writing desk and a chair, originally on the side facing east, have been stacked together and moved to under the window. In their place, there is a stool against the wall, where I hit my head previously. To the west is the bed I am lying on now. There are five or six people walking back and forth, whispering to each other. Someone realizes that I am awake.

Before the interrogation, I set two rules for myself: First, death by starvation is trivial compared to the loss of integrity. I can talk about myself, but will never name my friends. Second, it is better to be jade smashed to pieces than a tile kept intact. Now that I am here, I have to prepare for the worst.

The Face-off

I struggle to sit up from the bed and lean against the headboard. A wave of stabbing pain comes over my back; I don’t know when I got injured.

The interrogation begins. As other people leave the room, only No. 1 remains (I am numbering interrogators in order of appearance). He looks to be around 30 years old. His hair sweeps up with the help of a thick coat of mousse. A narrow-waisted, short-sleeved shirt hangs on his body, with the collar open to reveal a silver necklace that weighs at least a kilogram. I really want to tell him: it looks like a chain for a dog — ugly.

He twists his wrists with exaggeration, lights up a cigarette, and places it in a cigarette holder that is transparent. He uses two fingers (one with a silver ring) to hold it, as his fingers spread out like an orchid. He strolls toward me and plops down close to me on the bed. I lower my head to ignore him. A few moments later, he uses one finger to press on my forehead to lift up my head, and tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. He then takes a deep drag of his cigarette and blows smoke slowly at my face. Obviously he wants to provoke me. I close my eyes; I am not fooled. Sometime later (it feels like a century), he puts his arms gently on my legs, his body leaning forward, almost whispering to me: “Look at me.Look at me!”

I look up, unmoved, but make eye contact with him as he stares flirtingly. He raises one eyebrow and moves closer to me, less than one foot away, while making goo-goo eyes.

“Please keep away from me!” I try hard to sound strong.

“How far?”

“As far as possible.”

“Why?”

“I hate smoke.”

He gets up, walks to the table, puts out the cigarette, and comes back.

“Look, no more cigarette. Now isn’t it time to talk? What is your name?”

“I have nothing to tell you. Bring your boss here.”

I close my eyes and ignore him.

This little punk has plenty of patience and begins a monologue that lasts for almost an hour. A man comes in, whispers in his ear, and quickly leaves. A moment later, another group of four to five people comes in. One of them looks familiar. He looks like Captain Zhou of Domestic Security3 in the Dongcheng [Eastern] District of Beijing. Several months ago he summoned me for a “chat.” On that occasion, we sat across a table. Although his words were threatening, he kept a smile the entire time. Now the person before me looks stone-faced, wears sun-glasses, and is shorter than the one I remember. It’s clear that he only has a supporting role in this kidnapping. Therefore, at this moment, I’m afraid I can’t be sure.

“Get up and follow us!” someone orders.

I move to one side of the bed and put on my shoes. As soon as I touch ground, the pain is so excruciating that I’m immediately drenched in cold sweat. My ankle is injured. Before I can think, the black hood comes down again. Dragged and lifted by two men, I stumble out of my cell. We walk down a long corridor and pass through a gate. I am stuffed into a vehicle like merchandise.

The vehicle soon comes to a stop. I am led into a big room, and after ten steps or so, I arrive at another room. I am pressed down onto a square stool. Immediately, the din from the people inside the room subsides. Only one person is left walking slowly around me. In the quiet room, his footsteps are the only sound, one circle after another. He stops and snatches off my black hood. Probably because I have gotten used to the darkness, the light is so harsh that I cannot open my eyes.

“What is your name?”

I see them clearly: a pair of hiking boots. I look up slowly: hiking pants, a blue athletic shirt, a leisure jacket. He is a pale-skinned young man, with eyes as big as those of an antelope — No. 2. He looks like the outdoorsy type.

“What is your name?” he asks again.

“You don’t know who I am, and you kidnapped me?”

“Just answer my question.”

“Hua Ze.”

My eyes have adjusted to the environment. Looking around, I am sitting in the middle of a room that is about 20-30 square meters. There are two chairs and a desk roughly three meters in front of me, with a square briefcase on top. It is a recorder. A classic scene of interrogation you often see in movies.

“Did you just get off the airplane this afternoon?”

“Correct.”

“From where?”

“Dandong.”

“What were you doing?”

“Shooting a movie.”

“How many days were you there?”

“Three days.”

“What did you film?”

“A lawyer working on a case.”

“What did they do?”

“Interview relevant parties and their families and photocopy files in the court and procuratorate.”

“You need three days for all this?”

“We still did not have enough time.”

“Who is the lawyer?”

“I do not want to say.”

“Why not?”

“I do not want to mention names.”

He walks back and forth again, saying: “You look very weak.”

“I am in pain and tired and I can’t sit.”

He brings a chair to me: “Sit down then. Better?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

“Shall we continue?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you film this particular lawyer?”

“I like to.”

“Why do you like to?”

“Do you have to have a reason?”

“Why not?”

“I do not need a reason to like.”

I hear him take several deep breaths. He pauses for a moment, and then resumes.

“Where will you broadcast it afterwards?”

“Whoever pays for it will broadcast it. If CCTV4 wants it, I have no problem [selling it to them].”

“If no one wants it, then what?”

“Then I will dedicate it to people I like.”

“Are you just going to film this one lawyer, or do you plan on having a series?”

“I am not sure. If I find someone I like, then I will do it again.”

“What do you mean by ‘like’?”

“You won’t understand, even if I explain.”

“How did you know this lawyer?”

“Too far back to remember.”

He keeps trying to find out more about the lawyer and the filming but gets nothing.

“Pang!” The door is pushed open. A tall man makes his grand entrance escorted by four or five men.

No. 3 is about forty years old, small-eyed, and in Western clothes. His shoes are so polished that even a fly would slip off of them. He plops his cigarette pack and mobile phone on the desk, and sits down. He crosses his legs. He shakes his legs nonstop and says furiously: “Don’t mess with my brothers. Didn’t you say you wanted to see the leader? Here I am. I must tell you, I am too busy to talk nonsense with you. You’d better be forthcoming. Will you chat?”

“Haven’t I been chatting with your brothers?”

“This can’t continue — it’s going nowhere. One moment you say you can’t remember; another moment you say you don’t want to talk. You call this chatting? In here, you still want to call the shots? No way! Let me tell you: Anyone who comes in here can’t get out easily. Whatever I ask, you answer. That’s what we call a chat, understand?”

“Would you please show me your ID? Which department are you with?”

“If I tell you, you will be scared to death.”

I am wondering: I have dealt with Domestic Security for one or two days and have never felt scared. Maybe they are the State Security?5 “Tell me then.”

“I can’t tell you now. Later.”

I laugh. No. 3 becomes so upset that he is gnashing his teeth, and his face is contorted.

“Do you believe that I can make you disappear from this world right now?”

I continue to laugh and stare at him as if watching a show. Then I hear a dog barking outside.

“Believe me — I will bring the wolf dog in to play with you.”

“Okay!” I’m laughing so hard that I can’t collect myself.

No. 2, who is standing next to him, jumps in to help:

“Why are you so arrogant? What’s so funny? You should be scared, like normal people who are brought here.”

“Why should I feel scared? You guys kidnapped a totally defenseless woman and don’t even dare reveal your identities or names. This tells me that you are even more scared than I am. Since you are so scared, there’s no need for me to be.”

No. 3 is clearly furious. He bangs the desk: “I am asking you for the last time, will we chat or not?”

“There’s nothing to chat about.”

“Fine, you want to be Sister Jiang?6 I will lend you a hand. I always show courtesy before using force. Now that the courtesies are over, it’s time for the rough stuff. You just wait!” After he finishes, he charges out the door as if he’s fleeing. All the men in the room swarm out after him.

I throw this sentence at him right before he leaves:

“Since being kidnapped, I have never expected to leave alive.”

The door slams shut and then opens again. Here comes No. 4. He shouts at me: “Stand up! Getting comfortable sitting?”

As soon as I stagger up, he kicks away the chair under me.

“Do you have a proper line of work?”

I look at him, puzzled: what does he mean?

“You have no man, and no proper line of work.”

Now I understand. “You think what you are doing is a proper line of work?”

“You just shut up! Our leader is showing you respect by asking you questions. You call that an answer? That’s worse than not answering. If you answer like that, it would be better that you not talk at all.”

It’s true that I don’t have much to say to this scrawny, cowardly man.

“Why don’t you find a man? Why don’t you find a proper line of work? What are you now?”

What kind of logic is this?! Has this guy ever gone to school?

He repeats numerous times these two ridiculous sentences. It seems that he is very concerned about my not having a man or a proper line of work.

I look at him, speechless.

“Well, you don’t speak. Why don’t you speak?”

I am wondering: Isn’t he the one who just told me it is better not to speak?

In anger he circles around and stops behind me. “Courtesy” is over. Will the rough stuff begin? What kind of rough stuff? All the cruel punishments I have heard of are flashing through my mind. I remember what someone I know often says: the most despicable people are the ones who cower when they’re taken in and act tough when they come out. I’m not going to give this person an opportunity to judge me that way. What’s more, my body would probably give out after a few shakes, so the pain would not last long. I am ready for it.

Why doesn’t he start? How long has it been? My right foot hurts so much that I shifted all my weight to the left foot. I’m now in a daze. Don’t collapse, please, never! Don’t let them think that I’m scared.

I start to hear someone talking to me. I’m slowly regaining my consciousness. It is No. 2. He brings back the chair for me to sit down. He starts to play the good guy: “Why are you shivering?”

“Cold!”

He leaves for a while and comes back with a white bed sheet: “I didn’t find any clothing. Take this instead.”

I wrap myself in the sheet. No. 2 pulls up another chair and sits next to me. He starts talking in a heartfelt way. “Why are you so stubborn? Actually we just want you to have a good attitude.”

“In broad daylight, you guys illegally kidnapped a law-abiding citizen and brought me here. What qualifies you to talk about ‘good attitude’ with me?”

“If you keep trying to find out how you got here, this thing will never end. You cannot change reality.”

“I know I cannot change reality, but I can refuse to cooperate. It is not possible for me to cooperate with even little thugs.”

“Little thugs? Who are the little thugs?”

“Those who harass me, those who want to make me disappear from this world. I can bear big thugs, but not little ones.”

“What is the difference?”

“Big thugs try hard to conceal their nature, for they know it is ugly. Little thugs nakedly play out their thug nature, because they think the ugly is beautiful.”

“Oh, that sounds right. But you are too arrogant, don’t you know? Do you realize that? Your attitude makes people feel provoked.”

I correct him: “I’m not trying to provoke you — that would be beneath me. To make me disappear? Don’t play this game with me.”The more I talk the angrier I get. “It’s just death, isn’t it? We taxpayers spend money to support you evildoers. Seeing and hearing about your evil deeds every day has made me tired of living for a long time.”

With patience, he says: “Have you thought about this? We may not let you die, but just let you waste away. Could you stand that?”

“So just let me waste away. Once the oil dries up, the light will go out.”

“Why can’t you go along with this? Isn’t what you do respectable? Why can’t you talk about it?”

“I have already told you, I can talk about myself, but not others.”

“Even now, you are still thinking of others? You don’t even know whether you can get out of here.”

“For me, the peace of my inner heart and the freedom of my soul are more important than the freedom of my body. You couldn’t understand.”

He pauses in silence for a while: “Let me think about this. You also think about it some more. It’s too late for tonight. You can rest.”

I ask to use the toilet. He calls a female guard to accompany me. When I come out, I see a mattress with bedding on the floor. The female guard says: “Just make do with this for sleep.”

What? That’s all? No torture? No wasting me away? Regardless, let me just lie down and warm my weak and shivering body.

A man and a woman move two chairs to sit beside my mattress. For the first time in my life, I close my eyes under the light of a 200-watt bulb and the watch of two guards.

Although exhausted, I have a sleepless night and can feel my heart pounding hard in my chest. My whole body starts aching: shoulders, abdomen, and four limbs. Probably the result of the hysterical struggle I put up when I was being kidnapped. I exerted too much force.

I lie there resigned. As they change guards, the footsteps, the murmurs, the squeaks of chairs, and the sound of breathing are all so vivid. I don’t know what time it is. Daylight is piercing through the thick window curtain. The room faces south. A short and stout man enters. (I know this hired thug is one of the kidnappers from yesterday!) As he walks towards me, he keeps his hands in his pants’ pockets. He stares at me with a vicious look. He kicks the mattress twice: “Get up! You think you’re here to recuperate?”

I get up, make my bed, and then sit on the mattress silently.

No. 2 comes in, pulls up a chair, and sits next to me.

We continue our topic from yesterday.

“Let me repeat: I will only talk about me, nobody else.”

“Is this your principle?”

“Yes.”

“What does your name Hua Ze mean?”

“It means the ocean of flowers. Classical Chinese does not distinguish between the Hua that means flower and the Hua that means grand.”

He starts to ask me about some trivial things, which seem boring to me, but perhaps are important to him: my family background, my upbringing, my education, etc. The conversation flows aimlessly.

“From yesterday to today, there have been 20 to 30 people who have handled me. Is this how you waste taxpayers’ money?” I ask.

“How do you know we are spending taxpayers’ money?” He looks at me full of interest.

“You’re not?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Don’t tell me that you get paid by Anyuanding.”7

“It’s hard to say.”

“Working this job must be very painful, right? It haunts you, doesn’t it?”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You look educated – at least a college graduate. Will you tell your family that you kidnapped me?”

“You can’t say that this is a kidnapping.”

“Then what is it?”

“We call it: ‘taking in.’”

“Do you realize this is illegal?”

“Laws consist of many layers, some you know about, and others you don’t.”

“Oh, that’s new to me. What I don’t know is also called law.” I look at him with curiosity: “Tell me, which department are you from?”

“Even if I tell you, you will not understand. Even if in the future we see each other on another occasion, you will still not understand.”

“Then just tell me your name. Even though you are a member of this organized criminal gang, someday when you are on trial, I can testify in court that you did not torture me while I was kidnapped.”

He chuckles, “When do you think this day will come?”

“Heaven’s plans outstrip man’s. It may take ten years, or just one night. But I believe in our life time, you and I will both see this day.”

“Then what do you plan to do before this day?”

“To use my pen, my heart, and my camcorder to make a record of the changes of these times.”

He nods and changes the topic, “You should eat something. What would you like?”

“I would like to brush my teeth first. If I don’t brush my teeth, I can’t eat anything.”

He spends the next ten-plus minutes trying to convince me that rinsing with water can also clean my mouth. I insist that I must use a toothbrush and toothpaste.

Finally he says, “In fact, it wouldn’t be too hard to find a toothbrush, but you seemed emotionally unstable last night. I am concerned you would hurt yourself.”

“So that’s how it is! While I sleep I have someone by my side. When I go to the toilet, I also have a ‘bodyguard’ next to me – all because you are afraid I will commit suicide?”

“Yes, you did not even blink an eye yesterday when you talked about death. That scared me.”

Now it is my turn to laugh: “Take it easy, I won’t kill myself. But if I did, my blood would be on your hands.”

“If you are killed here, no one would know.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Is there not one among the twenty or thirty of you who has a conscience? Even if no one speaks out today, how can you guarantee that no one will speak out ten or twenty years from now? Don’t be so self-confident.”

“Are you really not afraid of death?’

“However you live, you only live once. It’s better to live a short and meaningful life than a long and ordinary one. So what is there to be afraid of?”

“Then you must eat something, and take good care of your body, so you will be able to live brilliantly.”

“I must finish brushing my teeth before eating anything.”

“You’re so stubborn, you know? Many of your friends are smarter than you are.”

“I know.”

The result of this negotiation is that I have to use my fingers to brush my teeth with toothpaste. Then I eat a few pieces of green vegetables, mushrooms, and some instant noodles.

No. 2 leaves. Two guards immediately come in and sit on either side of me. It seems I can continue to rest.

That ends today’s “talk”. What do they want? They made such an effort to kidnap me to just let me stay? Clearly, we cannot understand each other. We are not the same kind of people. The difference between us is much greater than that between a wolf and dog.

It’s so quiet, except for the barking of dogs. Occasionally, you hear the rumble of a passing airplane. I guess I am east of the airport. Is this a secret place specifically used to lock up dissidents like me? How many secret places like this do they have? How many dissidents have they locked up? Did they torture people here? Can those who get out of here return to a normal life? Just one year ago I could never have imagined my current situation. My thoughts are running wild. It turns dark and then bright.

The hired thug returns and kicks my mattress. I turn over and show him my back. He lifts off my covers. I keep still and ignore him. He gets mad and walks around my mattress twice. Then he starts yelling and cursing: “You cheap bitch. Who do you think you are? What the fuck are you pretending to be?” He goes on and on with disgusting words that I cannot put on paper.

I gather my courage and sit up suddenly: “What are you? Get out of here!”

He comes closer to me: “Say it again? I’ll kill you!”

No. 2 rushes in. I shout to him: “Keep this hatchet man off me. When you want to kill me, then you let him in.”

No. 2 stops the hatchet man who is rushing at me. Before he leaves, he points his finger at me: “You just wait! I’ll drag you out, dig a pit, and bury you!”

I’m shaking with rage: “I wait to be buried by you guys. I know you’d do it. But keep in mind, there’ll be a day when you are tried!”

This is the third day after being kidnapped. How can I let my friends outside know where I am?

There are at least five shifts of people guarding me. There are one man and one woman in every shift, which changes approximately every two hours. Every time No. 2 comes in, the guards leave immediately; when he leaves, they come back right away. Judging from their brief conversations, they come from different departments. They may know nothing about my background. If I talk loudly to myself, letting them know who I am, how I was kidnapped, will one of them send out a message for me? I don’t believe that all the people I have come into contact with are cold-hearted. I bury my head in my knees and think quietly.

“Pang!” The door is pushed open. A gang of men rush in. One of them sits close to me on the mattress. This is No. 1, the little hooligan. He pokes at my ribs with his elbow: “Raise your head! Look at me!”

I don’t move and keep silent. He pokes again, and again. I still keep silent. He lights his cigarette, takes a drag, finds a perfect spot, and blows the smoke at me through the space between my head and elbows. I move away from him and keep burying my head. He continues to move close to me: “Hello, why are you so calm? Trained in Taiwan?” Laughter breaks out from others.

Judging from this, again I’m sure that they are not from Domestic Security, but State Security. Perhaps they have been told that I am a spy and special agent, have endangered state security, and therefore, have become an enemy of the state. Otherwise, how can these educated young people do such wicked things without feeling a bit of unease in their conscience? How can you make them believe what they do has any dignity? At this moment, they clearly have come not to interrogate me, but to have some fun while they are bored. I keep silent with my head buried. After they have messed around for a while, they lose interest. The entire gang walks out in a drove.

Afterwards, No. 2 comes in occasionally to stand around and chat with me. I realize that he is trying to figure out what is in my backpack. “Is your backpack for a video recorder or camera?”

“For both.”

“Where are they?”

“I left them at a friend’s home.”

He tries to figure out what the SD cards are for. Since these cards are for professional use, he cannot see the data inside by using an ordinary camera.

“Did you make the April 16th documentary?”8

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t that good. Any storyteller can do it. It had no technique.”

“Thank you for your compliment. The highest achievement in making a documentary is the invisibility of technique.”

“Why do you care about these people?”

“I love them.”

“Are you kidding? You love so many people, but are not married.”

“The love I am talking about is different from yours.”

He has been watching the April 16th documentary. Is he moved by the scenes that have affected so many? I want to tell him: that is love.

“How many mobile phones do you have?”

“Several.”

“Why did you take them apart?”

“To clean them.”

“Why keep them off?”

“To save battery life.”

He is examining my mobile phones. I have two. The one I use exclusively for Twitter was bought a few months ago. He’s touched it. It’s dirty now.

“Your life was not bad; you have been to quite a few countries.”

“Yes. My dream is to travel around the world.”

Is he looking at the pictures I took? There is nothing in my USB drive. Is he reading my blog?

“You made a lot of money?”

“Every penny I make is clean.”

“Don’t you wish to return to your past life?”

“I wish it every day. But I can’t go back.”

“We can help you.”

“You? Help me? How? Will you make the kidney stone babies healthy again?9 Will you release Zhao Lianhai?10Will you bring back to life all the school children killed by the collapse of the shoddily constructed school buildings in the Wenchuan earthquake?”11

“Is there a single thing in this country that you are satisfied with?”

“I just want to ask you one question: Why did you kidnap me? Did I break the law? Would any government in a civilized country do things like this?”

“Of course, the American CIA kidnaps people too.”

“Young man, you’ve probably watched too many American blockbuster movies. The CIA only operates abroad, not domestically. There’s no way it kidnaps citizens at home.”

“Do you ever know how to compromise?”

“People with different interests can compromise, but how do you compromise with thugs? How do you compromise with the man who rapes you? If he says he will rape you ten times, do you compromise at two times? He says he will do it for one hour, would you compromise at twenty minutes? ”

Then he turns and walks out.

After another sleepless night, I get up feeling extremely weak. My denim overalls have become loose. I put on my shoes and stand up unsteadily, stepping on the bottom of the jeans’ legs. I bend down to roll it up. As I try to stand up again, I blackout.

I hear a hubbub; it seems very far away. Someone is pinching me just beneath the nose, the fingernails almost piercing to my bone. I open my eyes in pain and see the gloating face of the hatchet man. I am lying there, face-up and helpless. Five or six men surround me, including No. 3 and Captain Zhou from the Beijing Dongcheng District Domestic Security detachment. Now I’m sure that is him, although he still wears sunglasses and doesn’t say a word.

“Get up, put on your jacket, and follow us.”

I am carried away. The black hood is put on me for the third time, and I am pushed into the backseat of a car. With two men sandwiching me on both sides, I leave the place where I have been imprisoned for four days.

Unsure of where I am being taken, I try to guess the directions. The car zigzags continuously. A call comes in. I can tell Captain Zhou is sitting in the front passenger seat answering the phone. I hear a long sigh from him. It sounds like this assignment has not been handled very well. After roughly two hours, I hear the announcement through the train station’s loudspeaker: “Attention please! Passengers… ” I realize they are sending me back to my hometown.

“Where are you sending me? I have no clean clothes with me. You have to notify my family.” I tore off the black hood. The two men yell at me loudly and force the hood back on me. The man sitting on my right pinned my head down with his hands. My chin is pushed against my chest and I cannot move at all. The part of my back that was injured on the day of the kidnapping hurts so much that it feels as if it were splitting open. As I resist, I scream loudly: “Let go of me!” Captain Zhou in the front seat orders me to stay quiet. The man on my right grips my hands tightly and squeezes them. “You want to fight? Then fight!” His voice is so low, only I can hear. It is the hatchet man again. He is getting his revenge!

Captain Zhou opens the door and gets out. As the hatchet man tries to twist my wrist to my back, he curses through his teeth: “You want to shout? Go on! Aren’t you so tough? I’m going to crush you! Crush you, you cheap bitch!”

I struck back loudly: “You, the dregs of mankind, are not even fit to carry my shoes! You can kill me if you dare!”

My wrist is twisted by him to form a 30 degree sharp angle. I have spasms in all four limbs and gradually they become numb and lose feeling.

Captain Zhou returns to the car. The car starts and then stops after a short distance.

“Get out!”

“I cannot move my leg.”

“Damn, what are you faking?”

The hired thug kicks me and drags me out. Before I am dragged out of the car, the black hood is removed.

I am standing on the train platform, just in front of a car. The bright sunshine of late autumn shines on my face.

In broad daylight, in clear view of the whole world, I was kidnapped openly and dragged on the ground by two men. I cannot hold my tears any more. They pour down.

I cry out: “Let go of me! Let go of me!”

Someone grabs me from behind: “You cannot treat her this way. You let go of her.”

I look up and ask: “Who are you?”

“I am Chen Ming.” (A pseudonym.)

“Ah, Chen Ming? Is it you?”

“Yes, it’s me, Chen Ming, to accompany you back to Xinyu.”

Chen Ming is the office director of Xinyu Broadcasting and Television Bureau and the husband of my friend. After many years of not seeing each other, we are meeting here in this manner.

Chen Ming carries me to the train, my limbs all numb. The passengers have not been allowed on board, so there is only Chen Ming, myself, and two Domestic Security officers who claim to be plain clothes policemen working for the neighborhood sub-district office.

Forty minutes later, the train leaves the Beijing West Station. After a total of 68 hours, I’m finally leaving the evil grip of a criminal gang and starting my soft detention.

House Arrest

Xinyu is a provincial city in Jiangxi Province. Twenty-one years ago, I was a reporter for The Xinyu Daily. After resigning in 1989, I went through a period of roaming. I do not remember exactly which year I returned to Xinyu to process my passport application. At the time, since my household registration was still with the collective registration system at the newspaper, I had to travel a thousand miles just to get a confirmation certificate. I asked my good friend Jianjian, Chen Ming’s wife, to let me register my household under hers so that she could help me handle this kind of bureaucratic minutiae. And just like that, Chen Ming became my “head of household.”

Approximately one month before I was kidnapped, Domestic Security agents contacted Chen Ming to get background information on me and informed him that I was involved in some major rights defense activities. Chen Ming went home and asked Jianjian: “Could it really be Hua Ze? Would she be involved in these kinds of activities?” Jianjian was sure: “It’s her, alright. I know her.”

On the evening of October 28, Chen Ming was notified by his superior that he should go with the municipal Domestic Security personnel to pick me up in Beijing, and that his work unit would pay for all of the expenses of this trip. I don’t know whether Chen Ming regretted having allowed me to transfer my household registration to his household. I don’t know if he was reprimanded by his superior for choosing friends carelessly. In short, Chen Ming and his work unit were implicated by me.

As soon as I boarded the train to Jiangxi, I asked to check my backpack. A plainclothes officer hands me my backpack, and as I unzip it, my mobile phone falls out. A female officer in plainclothes snatches it away: “I’ll keep it for you.” What she does not realize is I have another phone which I use exclusively for Twitter, and never for phone calls. It is as clean as a newborn baby. When I was on an assignment in the northeast, I had only one battery for the phone with which I make calls. As a precaution, I saved two friends’ phone numbers on my Twitter phone. If I rely on my memory and don’t save numbers on the phone, I cannot even remember my own home phone number. This precaution will save me from many troubles.

I quietly put the remaining phone into my pants pocket. After the train starts, I go to the bathroom to make two phone calls. First I dial Pu Zhiqiang’s number. It rings for a long time, and he does not answer. Then I dial Teng Biao. As we talk, there is a lot of background noise and we have an off-and-on connection. I tell him that I have been kidnapped and that among my kidnappers was a Domestic Security officer from Dongcheng District. I am now being taken to Xinyu, Jiangxi, and my laptop is still at the airport. I ask him to find a way to get it to me. I can barely finish a few sentences before the phone is disconnected. Then Zhiqiang calls and tells me he has been under house arrest since he returned to Beijing from Yichun on October 27, but he can still make contact with the outside world. I repeat for him what I said to Teng Biao. He pauses and then tells me with a cautious tone: “This is the life you have chosen. This was bound to happen sooner or later. You must learn how to face it alone.” I answer: “Yes, I know.”

Later, over the fifty days of being cut off from the outside world, I thought of these words many times. I regard them as advice from a forerunner to a follower, because this is our life.

After making these two calls, my cell phone battery has only one bar left. I don’t know what awaits me, and must keep this last bar to call for help when danger comes. Even though I don’t know who would be able to help me or how they would help me, I cannot let myself disappear in this way – I must let my friends know about my situation.

On the train, the two plainclothes officers who came to get me ask with curiosity about Liu Xiaobo. This is the first time since I have lost my freedom that someone has mentioned this name to me.

“What is your relationship with Liu Xiaobo?

“What has Liu Xiaobo done? …”

My hunch is confirmed: all this is because I signed the “Statement Regarding Liu Xiaobo Being Awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.” I gave my name, Hua Ze; place of residence, Beijing; and occupation, documentary director. So it was just for these few words that they kidnapped me and will continue to imprison me. It also becomes clear that my kidnappers are from State Security.

This is a barbaric state and a criminal government. Rules of civilized societies are not followed here. Compared to the end of the Qing Dynasty one hundred years ago, the only difference is dissidents of that time had their heads chopped off and were forced into exile, but now they are kidnapped and made to disappear. All this must change!

Then I start to talk about June 4, 1989, Charter 08, the Nobel Peace Prize, etc. Talking about these topics starts to fill me with excitement. Since the authorities want to use kidnapping and imprisonment to allow me to share Xiaobo’s honor, I must live up to his name. I must continue to sow the seeds of fire.

As the train approaches our destination, the two plainclothes officers and Chen Ming all say to me, “We are only responsible for picking you up. We will not see you again after we get to Xinyu. We hope you will know when to back down so as not to get hurt – bend when you have to.”

I thank them with a smile for their kindness. But the word “bend” is not in my dictionary.

At the Xinyu train station, Mr. Chen Jianjun, a Domestic Security officer from the city, comes to pick me up. He is about 40 years old, and you could tell in a glance that he has a soldier’s background and is not well-educated. As soon as we get into the car, he starts lecturing, saying things like:

“Don’t wash the family’s dirty linen in public. When you bring domestic problems to the international community, you are damaging the country’s image.”

“You shouldn’t exploit the loopholes in the law and use the law as a weapon; the law is not everything.”

“Maybe your intentions are good, but you have been manipulated by foreign, anti-Chinese forces.”

Even though I am not good with clichés, when I see that he is so thoroughly brainwashed, I have to respond patiently:

“It is precisely out of a concern for our country’s image that we appeal for the release of Liu Xiaobo. How can you keep a Nobel laureate in jail? To win a Nobel Prize had been one of China’s dreams for a century!”

“Laws are made by the ruling party. How can you say that to maintain the integrity of the law is to exploit its loopholes? If we don’t use the law as a weapon, then should we use tanks?”

“As for the anti-Chinese forces, I still want to know how they have manipulated me.”

He says: “I don’t understand you. We’ll talk later.”

Then I tell him with a solemn tone: “If you don’t know me, then don’t tag me with an unfair label. Come back to talk with me after you have spent some time trying to understand me.”

I despise those who lack professionalism. Why is it that everyone I have met throughout this ordeal is so unprofessional? Why can’t they at least devote some thought to understanding me? Don’t they realize that I am more easily convinced by softness than by harshness? I believe that even for such shameless professions as Domestic Security and State Security, some degree of professionalism should be maintained.

After arriving in Xinyu, I am sent directly to the Xiaofang Guesthouse, a six-story building located on the northern edge of the city. Initially, it must have been built in accordance with the three-star standard, but now it looks somewhat dated. Fortunately, the bedding is still reasonably soft and clean, and the bathroom is also quite spacious. I am housed in Room 9207 on the second floor, which is reportedly the only room in this guesthouse that accommodates three people. There are two female police officers rooming with me, and two other male officers next door. There are four guards in every shift, and two shifts in total, rotating every 24 hours. All together, I have eight personal “bodyguards.”

As soon as I step into the room, Ms. Ouyang of Domestic Security announces several rules: I may not have contact with the outside world, I may not meet with friends, and the scope of my activities may not go beyond this building.

When the bodyguards introduce themselves, they give only their last names, not their first names. They say they are criminal police, economic police, or public security police. None of them admit to being a Domestic Security officer. Apparently, this kind of police – domestic security – is just too shady. However, having seen so many Domestic Security officers, I can recognize them at a glance. Of the eight, three are from the Domestic Security detachment of the municipal public security bureau, and the rest have all been transferred from different public security sub-bureaus. My security level is higher than anything they have ever experienced. Even their superiors know only that they have been transferred to carry out an assignment. As for where and what the assignment is, that is all classified.

Captain Hu of the municipal Domestic Security detachment has come – he says he is the leader, but no one mentions his position. After a while I figure it out by myself. The leader is very polite and says: “This is a coordinated action by the Ministry of Public Security, so how long you will stay here depends on the orders from above. The Xinyu authorities do not want to keep you a minute longer, and hopefully you will cooperate.” He advises me to regard this as a vacation or recuperation.

I ask Captain Hu to allow me call my mother to tell her I am okay. My mother is almost seventy. She must be worried after not having heard from me for so long. Captain Hu says that he has to consult his superiors for instructions.

No one comes to talk with me, and no one comes to explain to me the reasons for the restrictions on my freedom. In short, my life under house arrest has started, but with no end in sight.

I go to the bathroom and send a text message to Teng Biao: “I am living in Room 9207 at the Xiaofang Guesthouse in Xinyu. The police here have been polite to me, so please don’t worry too much.” My mobile phone has little power left, so I cannot wait for a response. I turn it off immediately.

Then I take a shower. I have been wearing the same clothes for five days, whether I’m sleeping on the bed or lying on the ground. I cannot bear it for one more minute.

I take off my clothes and inspect the painful “rewards” from the past four days since being kidnapped. The crescent-shaped cut on my upper lip is so deep that even a slight touch causes piercing pain. The wound on my back is below my neck, which makes it impossible for me to turn over as I sleep. All four of my limbs, especially my right arm, are covered with black and blue bruises. My right foot is sprained. The wounds on my upper lip and right hand were inflicted by the hatchet man on the day of the kidnapping. But how did I get the other injuries? I fainted several times on that day, so I can scarcely remember what they did to me.

After showering I am completely exhausted. I lie on the bed near the window, peeking at the sky of Xinyu through the iron bars on the window. I have no relatives here, so it is a completely strange city for me. I don’t even have any idea where this guesthouse is located.

I have to get used to sleeping with two bodyguards in the same room. I hope that they will not snore, grind their teeth, or talk in their sleep. After a long time with insomnia, I have become very particular about my sleeping environment. It has to be very quiet and clean.

The trip to Europe I had planned for November has become impossible. Exit restrictions will probably be imposed on me; my dream to travel around the world might have just ended. Has Teng Biao retrieved my laptop? I hope it’s not in the hands of the thugs. For the first time, I am going to have bad credit at my bank: I have missed the payment due date on my credit card. I spent more than 20,000 yuan for the plane ticket to Europe – there must be a lot of interest. What should I do about my daily medicine that I didn’t bring? What are the health consequences?

Why am I worrying about all these mundane issues? Without freedom, what else is worth worrying about? So what if I cannot travel all over the world, since there are so many people who have never even stepped outside of the city of Beijing. So what if my credit is not good, I have no plans to apply for loans anyway. Teng Biao will find a way to get back my laptop, and even if he cannot get it back, I will accept that. What does it matter if I cannot take my medicine – I was already prepared to die when I was kidnapped. My only worry is my mother who has a serious heart ailment. On the evening of October 8, when the Nobel Committee announced the Peace Prize, many of my friends were arrested as they were gathering in restaurants to celebrate. The next day my mother left Beijing for Jiangxi. As I said goodbye to her at the train station, I promised: “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” Now I only want to say to her: “I’m sorry, Mama. I did not keep my promise.”

Now that I am stuck here, I have to take it easy. It’s no use being anxious and angry – that will only impair my sharpness and judgment. I try to comfort myself: “It’s fine. Just take this as an opportunity to train your ability to stay calm.”

The next morning, Chen Jianjun from Domestic Security, who had picked up me at the train station, opens the door and comes in. As he takes a phone call, he points at me: “Did you contact someone in Beijing? Do you still have a communication device?” He turns back and gestures to the two female bodyguards: “Search her body, her backpack, and the bed!” My mobile phone is confiscated, and with it the last hope for me to be able to contact the outside world. With it they also take away some of my professional equipment: a wireless walkie-talkie and a camcorder. They do not know what they are used for, but they take everything away just to be sure.

The only thing left in my backpack is the instruction manual for my camcorder. Since I’m still new at videotaping by myself, I cannot remember all of the functions of the camcorder. I have the manual with me so that I can consult it when I need to. In the coming days, this manual will be my only reading material.

Every day I go through the same routine:

At 7:30 a.m., I get up, wash and brush my teeth, and then I go downstairs to have breakfast. In the morning: I read, write in my diary, and practice yoga. At 11:30 a.m., I have lunch. In the afternoon, I read, practice Pilates (a hybrid of yoga and aerobics), and take a shower. After dinner, I watch some TV and then go to bed.

At the very beginning I couldn’t get used to the environment. The bodyguards would keep the TV set on from morning to night. The noise was unsettling but luckily I soon learned how to read, write, and do exercise with the TV sound on.

One day after dinner I ask to take a walk outside. Chen Jianjun calls his superior for permission. He replies: “Walking is allowed, but not beyond the courtyard of the guesthouse.” So there is one more activity in my life.

Every evening, I wear my red wool sweater, suspender jeans, and a black coat (they are all the clothes I had with me when I was kidnapped) and circle the courtyard twenty times surrounded by four bodyguards. The scene must be very funny.

There are only a few guests in the guesthouse. The courtyard is a rectangle, 80 steps from east to west, and 35 from north to south. There are only two rooms with windows secured with steel bars. My Room, 9207, is one of them. During the first walk, I discover a moderately-sized Osmanthus tree in the southeast corner. This green plant with small white and yellow flowers and a strong fragrance has brought some life to my daily routine.

On the first day of my arrival to Xinyu, I made a request to call my mother. After a week, I have heard no response. On November 9, at breakfast, I make my request again. Chen Jianjun replies: “It would not have been out of the question for us to let you call your mother, but you hid your phone and contacted the outside. This incident has serious consequences. So we cannot let you call your mother.”

“What serious consequences have I caused?”

“I cannot tell you.”

I immediately burst out: “Even if I were a criminal, you would still have to notify my family. But you are treating a law-abiding citizen without the slightest bit of humanity. I had an extra mobile phone and the Beijing police did not inform you about it when I was transferred to you. This is not my problem. Anyway, it is my right to inform my friends about my whereabouts. Are you punishing me for that? Go ahead. Are you afraid that I will contact the outside? Starting now, I will begin a hunger strike! When I collapse, you will have to take me to a hospital – won’t you? When I get to the hospital, I will scream for help and tell everyone that you have kidnapped me.” After I finish these words, I leave the dinner table and walk out. I can hear the footsteps of a few people chasing after me.

“Little Chen does not know much. Please don’t take him too seriously.”

“There is nothing wrong with not knowing much. But you cannot lose your humanity. Everyone has parents.”

“We cannot decide whether you can call your mother or not. We have to send a request to our superiors.”

“I have already given you nine days. Even if you had to go through the UN, it should have been done by now.”

I return to the room and launch my first hunger strike – for the right to call my mother!

In the morning, Captain Hu comes: “I am sending my request to the leader right away. It should not be a problem. But it’s going to take a period of time, right? You first eat your meal.”

“Please send your request first, I can wait. I will not eat before I call my mother.”

The next morning, Chen Jianjun comes in with an exaggerated smile: “My superior has granted you permission to call your mother, but on two conditions: first, you cannot mention that you have been kidnapped or that you are under house arrest. You also may not say that you are in Xinyu. Second, the mobile phone must be held by us and you must use the speaker mode. Agreed?”

“I never had any intention of telling my mother what has happened to me. I just want to say hello to her and tell her not to worry about me.”

They call my mother’s phone and hold the mobile phone close to my ear. I hear my mother’s anxious voice: “Where are you? Why has your phone been off for so long? We were worried that something had happened to you.”

Calmly I lie to my mother: “I have been traveling in Europe. My phone broke. International roaming service is too expensive, so I cannot call you often. Please don’t worry. It’s much safer here in a foreign country than it is in China.”

In the past, whenever I traveled abroad, I have always called my mother before boarding my plane. Before I left Beijing, I used to email my younger brother my itinerary, contact numbers, hotel addresses, all kinds of information regarding accident insurances, and the names and email addresses of the insurance companies. This time is different. I don’t know whether or not my mother believes me.

After that I am allowed to call my mother once a week to say hello. In order to keep in touch with my mother, I take no chances by revealing my real situation to her.

The sleepless night is so long, I try to fill it with my thoughts. The feelings brought on by my thoughts can be warm and sad at the same time.

Ten years ago at a Christmas party in a bar in Sanlitun, Beijing, I met Xu Zhiyong, a Ph.D. student at Beijing University. That night, a group of his friends and their friends were enjoying themselves heartily. Against the noisy and chaotic backdrop, I had a quiet conversation with Zhiyong. He talked about his ideals of a constitutional government and the villages he regularly visited to conduct field research on grassroots-level elections. These topics deeply interested me, because his ideas were the same as my own. Ten years later, he became my lawyer in my lawsuit for freedom of speech and gave me tremendous help.

I came to know Teng Biao at a legal aid conference. When Zhiyong mentioned my lawsuit to him, he said without any hesitation: “Great. I support you!” The next time I saw him was in front of the Daxin Court House where people were showing support to Zhao Lianhai.12 Facing officers in plainclothes who were videotaping us, he shouted out: “This is Teng Biao! Do you dare to say your name?” All the women there adored him.

For the past year or so, I have participated in or filmed many citizen actions and legal cases that were initiated, sponsored, or supported by Gongmeng.13 They cover issues such as forced demolitions and relocation, educational equality, the Day of Twitter Friends on the Fourth of July,14 the Zhao Lianhai case, the Three Netizens case15 in Fujian, the Xia Junfeng case,16 the Leng Guoquan case,17 and many others. Shared ideals and common actions have created a strong bond among us. In my heart, Zhiyong and Teng Biao are not only my comrades, but also my brothers.

Early last year, I was harassed by Domestic Security for publishing my article, “In Search of China’s Path.” I called Auntie Qing, the wife of Tan Zuoren18 and a friend of many years, to express my sense of desperation and helplessness. Auntie Qing said: “You need a lawyer. Go to Pu Zhiqiang.” So I called Zhiqiang and we had our first meeting half an hour later in his very messy office. In front of him, I felt that I wasn’t at all like someone who was law-trained but a babbling seeker of help.

He interrupted me: “This is nothing, you will be fine.”

“If I am in trouble, will you agree to be my lawyer?”

“I agree.”

From then on, whenever I got into trouble, I went to him, still babbling as before, and I often depleted his patience. From his facial expressions I could read explicitly: I am that child who cries wolf. On October 24, he and I parted in Yichun. I went to Dandong to meet Teng Biao. During those few days, he always ended his phone calls or text messages with the words “Take care!” Now I suddenly realize: he was sending me warning signals. At this moment, what saddens me is that, in this land, the only thing my lawyer can do for me is to warn me.

The first time I heard the name Cui Weiping19 was through the poet Hai Zi.20 At the time, I was preparing to make a biographical film on Hai Zi. While researching, I encountered a series of articles written by Cui Weiping on Hai Zi. Upon first reading them I was very moved by her writings. Since then, I read all the articles by her that I could find. Later I met her at a farewell dinner for Tu Fu21 in Fuzhou. That was the prelude to the April 16th Incident.22 Tu Fu was taking a great risk going to Fuzhou to show support to the three netizens who were about to be tried. Teacher Cui openly joined the “Watch Group” to show her support. She said: “Today, let us forget about the world. At this moment, we only care about Tu Fu!” Several days later she wrote a long poem, “These Righteous People!” in which one paragraph is about me.

Along with the stream of my recollections there is also Older Sister Wang Lihong,23 Tu Fu, Tiantian,24 Wang Yi,25 Zhang Hui,26 A’er,27 Qiangben,28 and others.

Every time when I think of them, I feel a warm stream flowing down my cheeks. That excitement from my heart silently blends into the dark night and greets the dawn.

On November 14, I return to my room after dinner. I sit on my bed reading. I hear a knocking on the door. I don’t pay attention, believing it to be the bodyguards next door. Ms. Ouyang from Domestic Security answers the door. I hear someone say: “We’re looking for Hua Ze.” Ms. Ouyang slams the door shut. I understand what is going on. I can hear the loud calls from the outside: “Hua Ze, Hua Ze, please answer! Let us know whether you are inside.” I get up quickly from my bed, while Ms. Ouyang stares blankly at me. The voices outside become even louder: “Hua Ze, we love you!” My tears burst out. I rush to the door with no fear. Since Ms. Ouyang is guarding the door, I can only open the door a crack. But I can see three strangers’ faces: one woman and two men.

“I am Hua Ze. Who are you?”

“We are netizens, here to see you.”

“Where are you from?”

“They are from Xinyu. I am Chen Maosheng from Fengxin, do you still remember me?”

“Of course.”

We had communicated on Twitter. I remember his head shot – a handsome young man. He looks even more refined in person than he does in pictures. I shake hand with each of them and feel indescribable warmth. The female netizen hands me a bouquet of fresh flowers. They all tell me to take good care of myself. Ms. Ouyang pushes the door from behind and shuts it with force.

The room falls into dead silence. As she is changing her clothes, Ms. Ouyang tells me: “Two of them are from Xinyu Steel Mill, so-called rights defenders. They are bad, always looking for an opportunity to provoke people to make trouble for the government. …” I am not sure what she is talking about but I feel happy that Ms. Ouyang recognizes them, so they must recognize her too. They will soon spread word about me on Twitter. I will not disappear from this world without anyone knowing.

Ms. Ouyang finishes changing her clothes and hurries out. She is going to report this to her superior, leaving me to the other bodyguard. This is serious – I have been exposed. This will certainly keep them busy for a while.

The next early morning, Captain Hu comes and orders me to pack up and move.

I am moved to The New Blue Sky Business Hotel, not far away from the old one. This hotel has no courtyard and exits right onto a street. So I have to go outside of the hotel if I take my walk. Actually they had already allowed me to take my walk beyond the gate previously.

The new hotel has no dining service, so we have to go to a restaurant next door for meals. Each meal, we either spend above the limit or eat poorly. The rooms have no heating either. We stay here for about ten days, and I have no problem. But the bodyguards cannot stand the cold. They soon realize that the netizens were just visiting me and have no plans to rescue me. On the 11th day, we move back to the Xiaofang Guesthouse on the insistence of the bodyguards.

One night, not long after moving back to the Xiaogang Guesthouse, I have a dream. On a cold winter morning I was on top of Emei Mountain; snow was drifting down slowly; and the peaks near and far were covered in white. Morning bells rang from a monastery at the foot of the mountain, the sound rising up to the top in waves. This is a real scene from the Spring Festival of 1994, during my first trip to Sichuan, where I met Tan Zuoren and his wife. Sixteen years later the same scene comes into my dream. But now my life has been completely changed by the sentencing of Uncle Tan.29

Around the end of November, I hear that my house arrest may last beyond the Spring Festival of 2011, or even worse, according to some people, indefinitely. Since I know I was kidnapped and put under house arrest in connection with Liu Xiaobo’s being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, I have been psychologically prepared for the worst-case scenario of being released after December 10, when the Nobel Prize award ceremony is held. If that is not the case, I will go on hunger strike and protest with my death. I must somehow send a message to the outside.

I normally write in my diary daily. It is filled with scribbles and does not have complete paragraphs. It consists of disconnected phrases, to remind me of important events and how I felt about them. Because I know Ms. Ouyang often peeks into my diary when I leave the room, I would make a mark in my diary, such as putting it in a particular position, or leaving a strand of hair in it. So, sending a message out has to be done very carefully; she must not find out.

This note is written one evening while I hide myself in the toilet; the general idea is: “I am under house arrest and cannot contact my family. Please help me send a text message to the following two numbers: 186 … and 139 … (these numbers belong to Teng Biao and Pu Zhiqiang, which I had memorized on the train and would never forget in my whole life). The following are the contents of the text messages: 1) My mobile phone has been confiscated and I am asking for help from a stranger to send this text message, so please do not publicize it. 2) If I am still not released after the day of the award ceremony, I will go on hunger strike. Please think of a way to rescue me. 3) If possible (as I am concerned that their freedom may also be restricted), I authorize you two to be my lawyers. I have an authorization letter for Pu Zhiqiang at home (the exact location of the letter, and the contact information of the person who has my house keys, etc.). 4) I am in the hands of the Xinyu Domestic Security detachment, being kept in Room 9207 at the Xiaofang Guesthouse in Xinyu.” I put this note together with a fifty yuan bill in a pocket of my under shirt.

In the evening of December 1, when I take my walk outside, I stuff my note and the money into the hand of a stranger I have chosen beforehand (I am afraid I cannot give more details). I don’t know whether this stranger would send out the text message for me. But that is all I can do; I leave everything else to fate.

Two days later when I take my walk outside again, I see the stranger. He is actually waiting there, and he gestures OK to me.

As the day of the Nobel award ceremony approaches, I become more and more anxious. Every day without freedom is as long as a year. I feel I am entering a boundless dark tunnel. I know there will be light ahead, but I still cannot see it.

Many nights I am tormented by heart palpitations, which always hit me as I am about to fall asleep. The anxiety is beyond words; my limbs become weak, and I feel like screaming. I have to do my utmost to control myself in order to not go crazy. Facing this strong sense of helplessness, I keep telling myself: “You cannot have a breakdown! You cannot have a breakdown!”

Even if I am released the day after the Nobel award ceremony, I will have been cut off from the rest of the world for a full 45 days. For me, someone who values liberty over life, this is too great a price. Sometimes I wonder, if I had not been so unyielding after I was kidnapped and told them whatever they asked, they might have already released me or just restricted my movement, and not cut me off from the rest of the world. This might have been entirely possible. But I do not regret what I have done. From the moment they used violence to kidnap me, they foreclosed any possibility of negotiating with me. Not because I cannot compromise, but because I cannot yield to violence.

Nobody may blackmail me – not with violence, interest, or even familial love. Don’t mistake fragility for powerlessness, and don’t think that the insignificant ones have no dignity. What differentiates the strong from the weak is not the intensity of their power; rather, it is the firmness of their belief.

Finally the day of the Nobel award ceremony has come. Based on the time of day when the announcement was made, the award ceremony should be around five o’clock in the afternoon, Beijing time. Based on what has happened to me, I expect that everyone who could possibly go to Norway is being restricted. Therefore, no one from China can attend the ceremony. I hope there are rows and rows of empty chairs both on the podium and below the podium for the honored guests, and the camera slowly zooms in on these empty chairs. There is no better illustration of the current human rights in China than this, and this also shows the great significance in awarding this prize to Liu Xiaobo. When I think of that scene, I start to cry. (Not long after I was released, I saw the video of the ceremony. There was really an empty chair in the scene!)

On the morning of December 21, I announce my hunger strike!

That afternoon, Director Zhang of the Xinyu Public Security Bureau comes. He tells me that the day before he personally reported to the Jiangxi Provincial Public Security Bureau and he will receive instructions in a day or two. He wants me to be more patient. He also asks whether I have any requests. I tell him: First, tell me the reason for my continued house arrest; second, tell me when my house arrest will end.

I lie on the bed, resigned to my fate and letting my consciousness fade away. My body is floating, weightless, as if it is another me; no, it is my soul that has left my body and is looking down from midair:

“How long can you keep this up?”

I smile back: “To the extent of the challenge.”

“Do you want to destroy yourself?”

“No. This is precisely what will make me perfect. They want to use coarseness, wickedness, and emptiness to destroy me. I will resist with fineness, purity, and vitality. They can destroy my body, but never my heart.”

On December 15, Captain Hu replies to my requests: “First, there will be a concert the day after the award ceremony. Moreover, many rights defenders have gone to Beijing, and the Beijing police are overwhelmed. Therefore, we cannot release you yet. Second, we will definitely release you before December 20. The condition is that you must eat.”

That day, I end my hunger strike.

In the evening of December 17, Captain Hu comes again: “I have some good news. You will be freed on December 20th. Where do you want to go?”

“I want go back to Beijing.”

“How?”

“Either by train or by airplane.”

“You can ask Chen Ming to buy a ticket for you.”

“I am not here for vacation, or to visit my family. How you have brought me here is how you will send me back. I don’t have any money on me. If you don’t send me back, I will wait for my friends in Beijing to come get me.”

“Wait, I will ask for instructions from above.”

The following day, I get a reply: We have bought a sleeping berth ticket for you on the train on December 20; we will take you to the train.

Freedom! Freedom?

On the morning of December 19, Captain Hu tells me to pack my things and leave the hotel. He says that he could not get a ticket for a sleeping berth on the train to Beijing and has asked the Fengyi County Public Security Bureau to make arrangements. “Today we go to Fengyi first, and tomorrow afternoon we will see you to the train.”

I start feeling uneasy, because what he says does not sound logical. Xinyu is a city directly administered by the provincial government, and Fengyi is a county administered by Xinyu. A municipal bureau can’t even get a train ticket and needs a county bureau to make arrangements?

Fengyi is only thirty some kilometers from Xinyu, and it takes half an hour to get there. We are in two cars going through the central area of the county and heading toward the suburbs. The farther we go, the more deserted it gets. Finally we stop at a holiday resort at the foot of a mountain. The police officers from the Fengyi Public Security Bureau are waiting for us. We are the only group staying at the resort. Probably because we are in the mountains, it is very cold, and the temperature is at least three degrees Celsius lower than in the city. The entire night I wrap myself tightly with a comforter, my thoughts running wild. Will they send me to a Reeducation-Through-Labor camp? Will they formally arrest me? In May of this year, a friend of mine was arrested in Jiangxi for “inciting subversion.” After he was released on bail he told me that the Jiangxi police asked him for information about me.

A bodyguard is playing with her computer next to me. I ask her to look up the arrival and departure schedule for the next day’s Fengyi-Beijing train. She checks it on Baidu.com and is startled: “The train to Beijing does not stop at Fengyi.”

I start to throw a tantrum: “Go ask your leader: where is he sending me?” This bodyguard is a young and simple girl. She says, “The order I received is that our assignment will be over tomorrow afternoon. You will be released for sure tomorrow. Don’t worry! The leader will arrange things well.”

A moment later, Director Zhang of the Xinyu Public Security Bureau calls and says that he will come to see me, and asks for directions. Someone in the Fengyi county bureau goes in a car to pick him up. After a long time, another bodyguard comes and tells me that the director did not come: “He will come tomorrow morning for sure. The director says he will see you off.” I feel the situation is getting more strange.

A sleepless night. After I get up in the next morning, I do not say hello to the bodyguards; I open the door myself and walk straight out, and sit down in the yard to get some sun. I feel extremely disturbed, and I cannot figure things out. If they are going to release me, why bring me here? Several bodyguards come out to me and start assuring me: “There won’t be problems. The leader will arrange things well for sure. If you are not released today, we will go on a hunger strike together with you.”

Almost noontime, we finally leave, heading to an upscale restaurant in Fengyi county. A whole group of people is waiting for us at a table. They include Director Zhang, Captain Hu, and four people from the provincial Public Security Bureau. Among them, an older person who looks like a leader says: “We came here to take you to Nanchang, where you will fly back to Beijing.”

“When will you give me back my mobile phone? I need to call my friends to pick me up at the airport.”

“Don’t worry. We will give it back to you.”

I am in no mood to eat. Isn’t Xinyu closer than Nanchang? Why go there via Fengyi?

Among the four from the provincial Bureau is a middle-aged woman, Ms. Xiong (she didn’t introduce herself though), who is so polite that I cannot think of her as a Domestic Security officer. She says: “Teacher Hua, you see big changes in Jiangxi, right? Please help us spread the word.”

“I am not a publicist, I only do criticism.”

“Teacher Hua, don’t you make historical and cultural documentaries? Our Jiangxi has a long and rich history.”

“That’s true. I once did some research on classical academies in Jiangxi. Unfortunately, the department that I belonged to at the time did not think this program would get good ratings, so it was not approved.”

“Fine, then. If you propose it to us, we will help you plan it. We can provide funding, facilities, and all the amenities.”

“Ha ha ha ha … that’s good.”

This is fascinating. It does not look as if I am going to be sent to a Reeducation-Through-Labor camp; it looks more like amnesty.

After lunch, I get in a Ford minivan with the four from the provincial bureau and a female bodyguard. Behind us is a car driven by Chen Jianjun, the Domestic Security officer from Xinyu. We drive as if in a parade toward Nanchang.

As we are approaching Nanchang, the older provincial official says, “We still have several hours before the flight departure; let’s accompany Teacher Hua to visit the Tengwang Tower.”

In a Teahouse at the Tengwang Tower, they conduct a carefully pre-arranged “friendly conversation” with me:

“Teacher Hua, you have been in Jiangxi for almost two months. Have the comrades in Xinyu taken good care of you?”

“Very good. Sorry for troubling all of you.”

“You have a law background. So do I. Let’s put aside the legal issues. Some things have to be left for history to judge. Do you agree?”

I do not say a word, keeping a smile.

“Today I am not talking to you in any capacity, just as someone a few years your senior. Will you listen to a word of advice?”

“Please, go ahead.”

“From now on, don’t get involved in matters related to Liu Xiaobo.”

“What kind of Liu Xiaobo matters?”

“Such as the signature campaign.”

“That sort of thing doesn’t happen very often.”

“Good, that’s good. Also, as for matters related to the Jiangxi police, you don’t need to mention them.”

“I think the Jiangxi police have done well, enforcing law in a civilized way.”

“From now on, we are friends. If you have any business in Jiangxi, feel free to contact us. We will do our best to help. You and our Little Xiong can exchange phone numbers, so we can keep in touch. We welcome you to return often, but, of course, not in this way.”

I am wondering, so Little Xiong is going to be my special agent? I answer: “I will come back often; I still have family here. But it is beyond my control whether I will come back this way.”

“Your project on Jiangxi classical academies is a very good idea. You can send us a proposal; we can get it started immediately. There should be no problem.”

“Good, I’ll contact you when I need to.”

“Then it’s settled.”

At seven o’clock in the evening, I am taken to the VIP waiting area. Little Xiong asks me for my National ID to get the boarding pass. I once again ask her to return my mobile phone. Xiao Xiong says: “We will put it in your checked luggage.”

I become serious: “The mobile phone is a valuable item and should not be checked. You must give to me. It will be late when I arrive in Beijing; I am only wearing a thin layer of clothing, so I have to call my friend to pick me up.”

“I have prepared extra clothes for you. I know you don’t have enough money on you, so I have also provided taxi fare. In addition, our Bureau has prepared some gifts for you, so I will pack them together with your phone and check them.”

“Are you worried that I will call my friends in Beijing, and a welcoming party will meet me at the airport? It is so cold and it will be very late when I arrive in Beijing. I won’t make many people come meet me, I promise.”

“It’s better to check it.”

“I don’t promise anything that I am not able to promise. Once I have promised, I will keep my word. Please give me back my mobile phone.”

The older person intervened: “Okay, give it back to Teacher Hua. Since Teacher Hua has already been so clear, I also want to tell you: We are indeed concerned about any new snafus. We are also looking out for you and wish you a safe journey home.”

The airplane takes off at eight o’clock. At 7:40 p.m., I am escorted directly from the VIP waiting area to the airplane. At the gate, I wave to the people from the provincial bureau and enter the airplane. I immediately turn on my phone and call Teng Biao to tell him I am safe.

At this moment, I finally feel that I am truly free!

The day after I returned to Beijing, I find out why the last two days before my release the Jiangxi police went through so much trouble to transport me from one place to another. On December 18, Teng Biao, Xu Zhiyong, Tu Fu, and some other friends organized a “Fragrant Soul Watch Group.” The group’s members from different parts of China, including four lawyers, had decided to go to Xinyu to rescue me.

When the bell rings in the New Year, eleven days after I regained my freedom, I write down the following words: I have a dream. I dream that in the near future my friends will never be kidnapped, disappeared, or imprisoned. I dream they will never live in exile as sojourners far away from their homes and country.

Translated by Ming Xia. (The translator wishes to acknowledge the contributions from Alex Feng and Julia Xia.) Translation edited by Human Rights in China.

The Ordeal of a Fragrant Soul

中国媒体:2010是公民行动的重要转折年

2 Mar

自由亚洲电台驻香港特约记者心语的采访报道:

http://www.rfa.org/mandarin/yataibaodao/mei-12212010101215.html

诺贝尔奖颁奖之后,中国维权人士华泽和阿尔等在星期一获得释放,当局仍然扣押多名人士并对获释人士进行监控,中国媒体认为2010年是公民行动的重要转折年。

(华泽、王荔蕻、阿尔等都在网民的围观下获释)

失踪长达两个月之久的维权人士华泽(网名:灵魂飘香),终于在网友们的努力下获得自由。华泽自诺贝尔和平奖公布后就突然失踪,外界虽然多方了解到她被押解到江西新余,但是很难了解具体的情况,她也根本无法与外界沟通。

星期一晚九点半,维权律师滕彪受华泽委托,在推特上发布消息说:“ 华泽自由了,我在八点钟接到了她的电话。她被失踪这两个月的故事,我们等她回来后自己慢慢讲吧。”

华泽星期二接受本台记者采访时表示,“ 我在北京是10月27日被强行绑架走,然后在北京呆到30日,就被送回老家,在火车站新余的警方来接我,然后就一直到昨天获释。”

记者,“在那里的话,他们没有虐待你吧?”

华泽,“在江西新余没有,那里完全是上面安排下来的任务,他们必须做,他们也没有说要怎么样,对我很客气,他们也是希望这个事情早点结束,对他们来说,也是 很烦的负担。所以整个过程中我没有对新余警方有什么抗议,因为我一直知道,是上面统一安排下来的任务,他们必须这么做。”

在华泽等网友失 踪后,很多其他网友都在持续表示关注。一批网友还宣布成立“赴赣救友团”前往搜寻搭救华泽,而就在这个消息公布后不久,她便获得了释放。滕彪认为,没有这些网友的实际行动,很难说华泽能被释 放。没有许志永的起诉威胁和大家的电话潮,他电话很难开通。没有对倪玉兰的围观,她大冬天恐怕还要住在帐篷里,例子很多。不但围观有用,围观的声明都有用。

对于华泽的重获自由,大批网友表示了兴奋和喜悦之情。有网友说:“ 今天是最开心的一天。”华泽也在网络上对关注的人们表示感谢,“谢谢朋友们的问候,抱歉不能一一回复。伸出双臂,越过千山万水拥抱你们。”

和华泽同一天,被带往北京市平谷区金海湖碧海山庄的诗人阿尔, 以及维权人士王荔蕻、异议作家刘荻等也分别在前一天获释,外界相信这是当局的统一行动。本台记者星期二多次致电阿尔,但是电话均关机,无法接通。

刚 在星期天获得自由的王荔蕻告诉本台记者,“我一号走的, 到十二月十八号下午,总共十八天,就是在昌平的一个度假村里,一开始他们说得到十号,说要躲过颁奖,之前就有很多天,楼下二十四小时警车堵在我家门口,过 了十一号说,再绷一两天。到了十六日、十七日我就说我不吃饭了,下一顿饭我回家吃,我说你们太不讲信用了,他们紧急请示上级,之后让我回来,回来(警察) 还是二十四小时在楼下堵着。”

直到星期二,仍然有一批在和平奖之后被抓捕的人士没有获得释放, 包括赵长青、王仲夏、沈民强等等。对于王仲夏的毫无音讯,也一度被带走的异议作家刘荻向本台表示,“因为我觉得这事很奇怪,王仲夏也没有搞过什么违法的事 情,不知道这件事上,他到现在还在失踪,有十多天了吧。”

《新周刊》年终一期将2010年总结为“围观之年”, 其中的标题文章表示,“从近年来的‘散步’到今年的‘围观’,监督与维权层层逼近,印证了公民社会的成长路径。”但是就算在国际社会授予刘晓波“诺贝尔和 平奖”后的压力,还是公民的和平抗争中,中国当局仍然在坚持做出强烈的对抗姿态,外界对当局的变化并不表示乐观。

滕彪表示,“虽然一批人暂时获得了自由,但是仍然不自由的还有王译、陈光诚、李铁、谭作人、刘霞、刘晓波、刘贤斌、唐才龙、海来提、高智晟、胡佳、卓玛嘉、亚森、师涛、郭飞雄、郭泉、黄琦等十多亿中国人。”

2010-12-21

 

迎接游精佑出狱!

2 Mar

67年前的今天,有人在新华日报上撰文说,“每年这一天,世界上每个善良而诚实的人都会感到喜悦和光荣”。67年之后的今天,中国的网民们感到了喜悦和光荣,我们欢聚一起,迎接游精佑出狱。

一 个优秀的桥梁工程师,也许从没想过要成为一名英雄,但是在这片神奇的土地上,如果你还坚守良知,如果你还心存悲悯,你可能就注定要成为英雄。游精佑、吴华英,还有仍在狱中的范燕琼,就是这样的平民英雄。他们从不回避苦难,努力帮助那些苦难中的弱者,为他们申诉冤情,为他们提供法律帮助,把 自己微薄的收入捐助给那些最需要的人们,直到有一天,路见不平拍案而起,被判罪入狱。

有人仇恨你们多管闲事把他们暴露在阳光之下,有人叹息你们不通世故使自己身陷囹圄。在这个特权腐败横行和犬儒盛行的年代,有太多的中国人不在乎良心和正义,不在乎这个民族的未来,不在乎到我们的下一代时,这个国家是否洪水滔天。可是,总得有人在乎。

你们以自由的代价,审判了那些躲在重重黑幕背后以为大权在握的卑贱者。这一年里,他们以法律的名义在审判你们,然而,当他们惶恐地宣读判决书的那一刻,亿万国民已经宣判了他们。

请 相信这进步的年代,一个民族精神觉醒的年代,专制的阴霾挡不住历史进步的潮流,挡不住民族良心的复苏,挡不住中国人对自由的向往,你们不会孤单。一年 来,你们的战友们从没有退缩,我们一直与你们在一起。今天,为良心和正义并肩战斗的公民们再次相聚到一起,为了迎接你们出狱,游#精#佑、吴#华#英,我 们为你们感到骄傲。

此刻我想引用一位网友的呐喊——“这个肮脏的世界需要你们!这个悲惨的中国需要你们!这一片道德、良知的荒漠需要你们!”

公民关注团

2010-7-4