8.14. for freedom and liberty!

These few days, several things that have happened close to home, several months ago, and a few thousand miles away all collided in my mind, creating a crescendo-like epiphany. It doesn't sound very epiphany-like when I say it, but money is everything. And I realized it anew because of two American boys at the Olympic beach volleyball stadium, the Sichuan earthquake, and the Slow Food Movement.

A few months ago, at school, the Resident Masters of Shoreland Hall held a dinner with three women from the Slow Food Movement, which promotes "slow food," a concept that tries to unite city life with supporting local farmers, organic food, and heritage foods like heirloom tomatoes. Caroline, who is in the year above me, was one of the most avid talkers, and raised a point that the speakers really had a hard time dealing with. The goal of Slow Food seems to be to make a political statement and impact with one's diet and lifestyle, but it's not a message that can be accessible to everyone. It costs even too much for lower class families to go to local markets, and Caroline brought up this issue because it disturbed her that a local farmer-friendly and environmentally aware message that basically breathed good intentions with every word couldn't be practiced by everyone, especially impoverished people living on the south side of Chicago. Aside from the reactions of the speakers being very interesting, because I think they were very used to people supporting their ideas, and not at all familiar with UChicago students who asked UChicago questions... it was an interesting thing to think about, because if you follow her line of thinking, if people living in Chicago can't afford this, then something like the Slow Food Movement is nothing less than the product of a luxurious (in comparison with the rest of the world) lifestyle.

What confirmed my belief of this was an article in the NYTimes that I read last week. It was an article from fairly long ago, but the headline ran something like this: "China Presses Hush Money on Grieving Parents." For people who have been under a rock for the past three months, the earthquake that hit Sichuan Province in May was most devastating for parents. Many schools collapsed, not because of the strength of the earthquake but because they were intrinsically structurally weak. Many nearby cities were unscathed, because they were built better, and many parents, whose only children died in the earthquake, took their case to the government in order to combat what they saw as a long string of corruption and embezzlement that indirectly led to the death of their children. The NYTimes article was about how the Chinese government had begun, as the Olympics were beginning, a campaign to pressure these parents to stop their political activism by offering them large amounts of money in return for pledging their silence. How much money is a child worth? The Chinese government has offered, according to the article, around $8,800, with a per-parent pension of $5,600. Put it together, and you have over $20,000 USD. Translated into RMB, that is far more money than poor farmers from Sichuan Province can hope to see in their lifetime. And for some, evidently, enough to pay for the death of their only child.

It's an interesting phenomenon, and certainly tragical, cynical, shameful, and a whole boatload of other adjectives, but what does it really mean? As the NYTimes said, "Most parents, the government assumes, ultimately put profit before principle." Even a principle as important as a child, which is at the heart of the Chinese family, possibly the most important unit in Chinese culture. But why? Because of the fact that Chinese people are poor. Because we don't have money. Only those who have money can afford to put principle before profit. The day that China becomes rich enough to care about something other than making sure its people are fed, that's when these abstract ideals will really begin to live. And how we can begin to make sure that a country is rich enough not to care about being rich is a whole other discussion, and a discussion that anyone who wants to take a hand in changing China should have, but what's also interesting are the moral implications.

It's a sad and cynical kind of realization, but recognizing what is right and what is true and what is just is not a moral kind of duty as it is preached in American education. Father, I cannot tell a lie. I cut down the cherry tree. Truth, justice, right and wrong and all those capitalized virtues are luxuries, to be enjoyed and worshiped and pursued when your stomach is full. You can choose between liberty or death, and become a hero in history textbooks, but as many people have found out, living without the promise of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is not only possible - it is more than tolerable. And to be frank, the airs that Americans put on about the fact that there have been martyrs like Patrick Henry is absolutely insufferable. The fact that you are in pursuit of the aesthetic life says nothing about you, ninety nine times out of a hundred. You're no one special. You're just lucky as hell to be born with the money and the circumstances, because the life of the mind is not one that most people on earth can afford to live. But it's taken for granted, more often than not, and so means less than if it hadn't been given to these people who have it. It doesn't say anything about other people, either, who have chosen loss of liberty over death. Merely that the lack of liberty, justice, truth, and all those ideals doesn't make a life not worth living, and just the same, the possession of those abstract values doesn't automatically make a life the richest and happiest it can be.

Speaking of people who are willing to sacrifice everything, Lucy and I went to Chaoyang Park to watch beach volleyball prelims, which was exciting as all hell. There were four or five matches during the evening session, and the first two matches were between the US and Germany, and Australia and Georgia. We chatted freely and brought some souvenirs as we made our way towards the stadium. About three hundred meters away from the entrance, there was a stand selling flags, and many people who crowded around it. Lucy asked if there were any small USA flags (about a foot by a half), which would have cost around 25 RMB, but they shook their heads, and only displayed a large one, about six or so feet by four feet, which cost 100 RMB. Two American boys had been walking behind us. They resembled perfectly normal slightly jock-ish American college boys, and they also stopped, and inquired to the same effect. Then they looked at each other.

"100 RMB?" A furrowed brow, as though to say, "That's expensive."

"We did just get a free 100 RMB, though..." The other boy interjected.

"And it's for freedom and liberty!"

"Yeah, definitely."

At this point, I really couldn't resist opening my mouth. "You can bargain with them, you know?" And at that, one of the salespeople shook her head and said, "No discount." As the boys exchanged another glance at each other, I couldn't stop myself from saying again, "100 RMB is far too much for that." That flag had also probably been manufactured by underage children for less than 5 RMB, but I didn't say that. I'm too polite for something like that, you know.

"Oh, no, it's never too much." One of the boys laughed.

"For freedom and liberty!" The 100 RMB bill was handed over. Lucy and I exchanged pained glances. The boys waved their flag and left. And there you have it. For freedom and liberty.

Q.E.D.