I was born in 1957 and spent my childhood in China's remote Xinjiang region, w
here my father, Ai Qing, had been exiled. He was a poet, not a revolutionary,
but the Communist Party had no tolerance for free thinkers. So he spent years
cleaning toilets, enduring beatings and public humiliation. To me, it was a le
sson in how horribly humans can treat one another.

On Oct. 1, the Party will mark the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Peo
ple's Republic. Thanks to the ability of the Chinese people to struggle and en
dure, the country can also celebrate its arrival as one of the world's most po
werful economies. The government may trumpet this success as the product of it
s own wisdom. It is only natural, though, that when hundreds of millions of ha
rdworking Chinese are finally allowed to rejoin the world after a century of i
solation, they will succeed. As we mark how far China has come in these past 6
0 years, it's also worth noting how far the country has yet to go.
(Read "The 60th Birthday of the People's Republic.")

When the communists were fighting for control of the nation in the 1930s and '
40s, they promised democracy, a free press and an independent judicial system.
Six decades after they came to power, none of those exist.

Take the case of Tan Zuoren, a man charged with "inciting subversion of state
power." In August I went to Sichuan to testify at his trial. Tan is an editor
and environmentalist, not a revolutionary. But like my father, Tan asks the im
portant questions and says what he thinks. Now, as then, that's a dangerous th
ing in China. If you open your mouth to point out something that is clearly wr
ong, if you believe in your essential right to speak, then you can be labeled
an enemy of the state.
(See pictures of the making of modern China.)

After a shocking number of Sichuan schools collapsed in the catastrophic earth
quake last year, Tan decided to compile a list of those students who had died.
I recruited volunteers for a similar project. When you see so many lives vani
sh, you have to ask why. And when the system refuses to provide an answer, you
have to use your own means to uncover it. At every step the government tried
to block our inquiries. Police followed, harassed and in a few cases beat the
volunteers. Tan was arrested on March 28. While I was in Sichuan to speak at h
is trial, police stormed my hotel room in the middle of the night, punched me
and detained several of us. (I had to undergo cranial surgery in Munich for my
head injuries.) The clear intent was to ensure that none of Tan's supporters
could witness his prosecution.

We believe that corruption and shoddy construction contributed to the high stu
dent death toll, which may be as high as 6,000. Why is the government so afrai
d of an independent investigation into this matter? Because the Party knows it
s system is vulnerable, that its credibility is weak and that it has become a
mafia whose only unifying ideology is to hold on to power. The truth about som
ething as simple as why those students died in Sichuan could undermine its aut
hority. To witness this vulnerability, you need only look at the soldiers and
paramilitaries filling the streets of Beijing and the pages of mainland newspa
pers ahead of the Oct. 1 National Day parade. It is more a show of fear than j
oy.

Facing this legacy of repression, it is easy to become pessimistic. Some peopl
e lament that young people today don't share the idealism of students in the 1
980s. But while my generation dreamed lofty goals, they had little foundation.
We were like a tall flower on a thin stem. Faced with armed resistance in 198
9, the students in Beijing were cut down with tragic ease. Today's young peopl
e are more practical, and because of that I am optimistic about their chances
of promoting fundamental change. They aren't ready to march in the streets, bu
t they are equally unwilling to be told what they can or can't read and discus
s online. They simply want to be free to live their own lives.

What I'm talking about is nothing revolutionary like the democracy that the Co
mmunist Party once promised. It is the fundamental matter of protecting one's
individual dignity. It is about seeking answers to simple questions — like wh
y so many students died in Sichuan. It is about demanding answers and accounta
bility from one's government. If Chinese citizens do that, then this 60th anni
versary will not just be about the Party congratulating itself. It will be the
final hurrah of a dying system.

Beijing-born Ai Weiwei is an artist, architect and activist

北京烤鴨名店“大董”的老闆去年提出了“改造中國菜”的口號，與梁子庚和梁兆基這些國際知名的新派中菜推手，一起在雜誌上討論中菜還可以怎麼走下去。在很多資深食家眼裏，這批人都有點“阿茂整餅”，不是中菜西吃，就是引入太多古靈精怪的新元素，把我們的國粹弄得不倫不類。我對這種路數的東西本來也一向是敬而遠之，淺嘗即止。但不知道是不是時間久了，試的機會多了，漸漸也就習慣了；甚至還開始能理解他們的用心。

例如大董，以一味烤鴨成名，是最最傳統的老東西，但他從來沒有停在這裏，反而不斷實驗，近日還跟上潮流，打起“分子美食”的主意。結果呢？竟然不錯，他推出的新菜都可口。反倒是烤鴨，選料太瘦，油脂不豐，略略顯得幹口。所以很多外地人慕名去吃烤鴨，我都勸他們不如叫點別的。為甚麼他要把肥美的烤鴨變成這樣？那是為了適應現代人的口味。為甚麼要把其他傳統美食“分子化”呢？原來是種使命感。

中國廚師近年在各種國際烹飪比賽中頻頻失利，還出現過五甲不入的慘況。這些比賽原不足道，起碼我不曾見過有哪一位有名有姓的高手會跑去淌渾水。可是“大董”很認真，把它看成中國飲食危機的徵候。許多人說外國人就是不懂我們博大精深的飲食文化，所以直到去年年尾，才終於有一家中菜館取得米芝蓮三星的榮譽。“大董”則認為這是自欺欺人的阿Q心態；人家那些洋專家見多識廣，甚麼東西沒嘗過？你中國菜就能把人唬住了？明明是自己不行，因循守舊，就不要把責任推到文化差異上頭。因此，他說了一句很重的話：“中國菜落後了”。聽起來簡直就像甲午戰爭輸給日本，大家快要變成亡國奴了。所以才有他們這批有識之士力行改革，中菜為體，西菜為用；為的是強國保種。

這份急切，我能體會。平常不出門，天天吃自己的魚蛋粉擔擔麵還好；只要一出國，看見外頭那些商場飲食廣場裏的Panda Express和Manchu Wok，你就一定心疼。為甚麼中國菜在海外淪落至此？搞了幾十年還是春捲和宮保雞丁？為甚麼一般老外想認真吃頓飯的時候不會想到中國餐館，只有叫外賣的時候才會思念炒麵的風味呢？在這場新甲午戰役裏頭，中國人還真又輸給了日本。雖然日本人也發明了加州卷和炸軟殼蟹壽司，也在超級市場的角落開店賣刺身。但是很多歐美人都明白，坐壽司吧請師傅發辦是一種高尚享受；相比之下，中國菜卻始終不脫價廉物美的老印象。

然而，正如當年中國精英面對列國叩關，分成兩派，一派主張維新西化，另一派則回歸傳統。如今中菜危機（如果真有這回事的話），你也可以有兩種判斷。一是像梁子庚他們，改造中國菜；二是返祖溯源，以中菜的本來面目掃蕩市面劣貨次品。

中國人的優點實在是三天三夜都說不完，其中一項最常被人歌頌的美德便是“靈活”。無論何時何地，他們總是能適應環境，推陳出新，迅速找到謀生求存的路子；於是才有那麼多人在他鄉的故事，足跡踏遍全世界。

可是有一年，我在洛杉磯請一位名作家吃飯，他卻語出驚人地把這種“靈活”解釋成“善於投降”！他說：“為甚麼四大古文明只有中國能不受干擾地繁衍至今？那是因為我們的農民祖先不抵抗。管你誰家當皇帝，管你是不是蠻夷，總之我就繼續過好自己的日子就行了。昨天還在忠舊主子，今天就乖乖跪在新人面前。所以王朝再怎麼變更，底下的社會結構可一點都不動，該種田的種田，讓吃飯就吃飯”。

說到吃飯，他又用眼前那桌味道古怪的川菜當例子：“瞧，這就叫做投降。每一種亞洲菜來到美國都會調整變化，但沒有誰比得上中國人，幾乎連一家堅守傳統口味的店子都找不到。好比洋名，日本人印度人的名字多複雜？他們會像我們這樣，單純為了‘方便’，就隨便安個Mary和John這些名字嗎？”

這番中華文明怪論我實在不敢苟同，但是中國菜在海外之所以淪落至此，又的確在某種意義上是“投降”的結果。美國食評家史提芬·蕭（Steven Shaw）去年出了一本《亞洲飲食規則》，專門教美國人如何欣賞亞洲美食。在介紹中菜那一章裏，他特別提醒讀者一定要和餐館服務生聲明自己不看餐牌，“你們自己會吃甚麼我就要甚麼”，因為餐牌上的東西多不正宗，純粹是打發老外的雜碎。

令我尤其傷心的，是這位自稱為識途老馬的食家居然也是從速食店學懂中國菜的，可見彼邦中菜廉價到何種程度。而且他還隆重推介川菜名點擔擔麵，說它是種冷面！連亞洲菜專家也犯上這低級的常識錯誤，一般食客對中菜的瞭解有多膚淺就更是思過半矣了。

但這又怪得了誰呢？在海外開餐館的，沒幾個真愛做菜，多半是為了謀生，才不得不卷起衣袖掄起鑊鏟。對他們而言，教育老外的任務太漫長太沉重，還不如弄些不鹹不辣的麻婆豆腐應付場面來得方便省事；難怪史提芬·蕭會告誡讀者別信餐牌。也難怪他會搞錯很多根本事實，因為那些真心誠意教他吃中菜的同胞自己就是個外行人。

九七移民大潮曾經為各地注入不少粵菜新血，香港人多了，專門侍候香港人的正宗菜館也跟著開了起來。這本來是個提振海外中菜水準的好機會，可惜好景不常，一遇上競爭，我們那種往下比賽的本能就又給激發出來。很多館子不是較量誰做得更用心更出色，而是看誰賣的東西最大件夾抵食。恰恰這就是海外中餐變成外賣食品同意詞的遠因，幾十年前的中餐館就是用一場接一場的減價惡戰把自己弄得愈來愈賤，不止毀了形象地位，連該有的水準也連帶耗盡。打到最後，大家都無利可圖，一起變成那種典型中式餐飲經營者，刻苦耐勞，但卻兩袖清風。

自己人鬥價格，遇上外人呢？我們抄襲。“抄”原本就是中餐業的特色；誰做紅了，就抄誰的餐牌；再加上不願冒險賣新的東西，結果千人一面，每家餐館的東西都很像。後來眼見日本菜和泰國菜成了潮流，我們便再度發揮海納百川的靈活本色，把壽司、天婦羅和冬蔭功都弄進餐牌裏面，使好端端的一家上海菜館變身做亞洲美食大全。就跟香港的茶餐廳一樣，乜都有得食，仲要樣樣都平過你。死未？