《論中國》(On China)
Henry Kissinger on China
John Dominis/Time & Life Pictures — Getty Images
The easy part: Kissinger, Nixon, Secretary of State William P. Rogers and Prime Minister Zhou Enlai in 1972.
By MAX FRANKEL
Published: May 13, 2011
Henry Kissinger was not only the first official American emissary to Communist China, he persisted in his brokerage with more than 50 trips over four decades, spanning the careers of seven leaders on each side. Diplomatically speaking, he owns the franchise; and with “On China,” as he approaches 88, he reflects on his remarkable run.
ON CHINA
By Henry Kissinger
Illustrated. 586 pp. The Penguin Press. $36.
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The surprise buried in his lumbering review of Sino-American relations is that the much ballyhooed Nixon-Kissinger journeys to China in 1971-72 turned out to have been the easy part. “That China and the United States would find a way to come together was inevitable given the necessities of the time,” he writes. “It would have happened sooner or later whatever the leadership in either country.” Both nations were exhausted from war (Vietnam, clashes on the Soviet border) and domestic strife (antiwar protests in Nixon’s case, the Cultural Revolution in Mao’s). Both were determined to resist Soviet advances and so could quickly agree to make common cause. The menace of Moscow took the leaders’ minds off confrontations in Vietnam and Taiwan and quelled their ritual denunciations, whether of international imperialism or Communism. They decided that the adversary of my adversary was my pal, and for more than a decade that was fruitfully that.
But that was a different time. China finally escaped from Mao Zedong’s mad doctrine of perpetual revolution and from the enfeebling nostrums of central planning; it became an industrial powerhouse. The Soviet Union and its empire collapsed. And the United States, feeling supreme, began promoting democracy with missionary zeal even as it grew dangerously addicted to foreign oil, goods and credit. The radical shift in the balance of power turned China and the United States into mutually dependent economic giants, but it left them without an overarching strategic design of partnership.
It is to demonstrate the need for such a design that Kissinger reviews the ups and downs of Sino-American relations, reaching even into ancient Chinese history to define national characteristics. (He finds it apt that the Chinese like to play “wei qi,” or “go,” a protracted game of encirclement while we play chess, looking for control of the center and total victory.) Kissinger draws heavily on much recent scholarship and on notes of his trips to Beijing to celebrate the pragmatism of Mao’s successors. He says they are content to remain within their restored historic frontiers, willing to await a peaceful reunion with Taiwan, and most determined to continue their remarkable economic growth and to eradicate China’s still widespread poverty. He is less confident about America’s capacity to sustain a steady foreign policy, noting that “the perpetual psychodrama of democratic transitions” is a constant invitation to other nations to “hedge their bets” on us.
As students of Kissinger well know, he has long considered democracy to be a burden on statecraft — both the clamor of democracy within the United States and our agitations for democracy in other lands.
He recalls yet again his agonies in office in the 1970s, when he thought that American demonstrations during the Vietnam War could have misled Mao into believing that a “genuine world revolution” was at hand. He argues that the “destruction” of Nixon in the Watergate crisis, the withdrawal of Congressional support for Vietnam, new curbs on presidential war powers and the “hemorrhaging” of intelligence secrets all combined to undermine the quasi alliance with China, making America appear ineffectual against the Soviets. He is glad that Jimmy Carter did not let his human rights concerns upset relations with China and that Ronald Reagan’s cheerful personality overcame the “almost incomprehensible contradictions” of his dealings with Beijing even as he promoted the idea of an independent Taiwan.
The severest test of the quasi alliance, of course, was the brutal suppression of democratic strivings in Tiananmen Square in 1989. That violent crackdown also tested Kissinger’s tolerance for the assertion of American values in foreign relations.
Looking back, he believes everything depends on circumstances: “There are instances of violations of human rights so egregious,” he writes, “that it is impossible to conceive of benefit in a continuing relationship; for example, the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, and the genocide in Rwanda. Since public pressure shades either into regime change or a kind of abdication, it is difficult to apply to countries with which a continuous relationship is important for American security. This is especially the case with China, so imbued with the memory of humiliating intervention by Western societies.”
And so Kissinger admires the way President George H. W. Bush, “with skill and elegance,” walked the “tightrope” of punishing China with sanctions after Tiananmen while simultaneously apologizing with private letters and special emissaries. President Bill Clinton tried applying pressure for a time, Kissinger notes, but was shown no gratitude when he wisely relented; the Chinese “did not view the removal of a unilateral threat as a concession, and they were extraordinarily touchy regarding any hint of intervention in their domestic affairs.” And President George W. Bush, despite his “freedom agenda,” earns Kissinger’s praise for overcoming “the historic ambivalence between America’s missionary and pragmatic approaches,” by means of “a sensible balance of strategic priorities.”
If America’s preference for democratic governance is made the main condition for progress on other issues with China, Kissinger concludes, “deadlock is inevitable.” Those who battle to spread American values deserve respect. “But foreign policy must define means as well as objectives, and if the means employed grow beyond the tolerance of the international framework or of a relationship considered essential for national security, a choice must be made.” That choice “cannot be fudged,” he insists, even as he attempts to protect his flanks with a fudge of his own: “The best outcome in the American debate would be to combine the two approaches: for the idealists to recognize that principles need to be implemented over time and hence must be occasionally adjusted to circumstance; and for the ‘realists’ to accept that values have their own reality and must be built into operational policies.”
Still, in the end, Kissinger votes for national security über alles. Scattered through his history are tributes to American values and commitments to human dignity, which may indeed sometimes drive our policies beyond calculations of the national interest. Exactly that happened, in fact, after “On China” went to press, when President Obama ventured into Libya. Kissinger was perhaps surprised when that humanitarian intervention and bid for regime change failed to evoke a Chinese veto at the United Nations. But in Asia now more than Europe, he argues, “sovereignty is considered paramount,” and any attempt “from the outside” to alter China’s domestic structure “is likely to involve vast unintended consequences.” Besides, as he used to insist while practicing realpolitik in Washington, the cause of peace is also a moral pursuit.
This central theme of Kissinger’s experience and counsel must be distilled from the sometimes meandering and largely familiar history he tells in “On China.” Only in its last pages does he discuss the essential question of future Sino-American relations: With no common enemy to bind them, what will keep the peace and promote collaboration and trust between the world’s major powers?
Kissinger addresses this question by looking to the past, a memorandum written by a senior official of the British Foreign Office, Eyre Crowe, in 1907. Crowe argued that it was in Germany’s interest to “build as powerful a navy as she can afford” and that this would itself lead to “objective” conflict with the British Empire, no matter what German diplomats said or did. There is today a “Crowe school of thought” in the United States, Kissinger observes, which sees China’s rise “as incompatible with America’s position in the Pacific” and therefore best met with pre-emptively hostile policies. He perceives growing anxieties in both societies and fears they are exacerbated by Americans who claim that democracy in China is a prerequisite for a trusting relationship. He warns that the implied next cold war would arrest progress in both nations and cause them to “analyze themselves into self-fulfilling prophecies” when in reality their main competition is more likely to be economic than military.
Indulging his habitual preference for diplomatic architecture, Kissinger insists that the common interests the two powers share should make possible a “co-evolution” to “a more comprehensive framework.” He envisions wise leaders creating a “Pacific community” comparable to the Atlantic community that America has achieved with Europe. All Asian nations would then participate in a system perceived as a joint endeavor rather than a contest of rival Chinese and American blocs. And leaders on both Pacific coasts would be obliged to “establish a tradition of consultation and mutual respect,” making a shared world order “an expression of parallel national aspirations.”
That was indeed the mission of the very first Kissinger journey to Beijing. And while he does not quite say so, he invests his hopes in a concert of nations represented, of course, by multiple Kissingers.
Max Frankel, a former executive editor of The Times, covered the Nixon-Kissinger journey to China in 1972.
****
America and China
No go
The Western politician who understands China best tries to explain it—but doesn’t quite succeed
May 19th 2011 | from the print edition
CHINESE and American leaders have been sniping at each other in public again. This month Hillary Clinton, America’s secretary of state, discussing political reform, told the Atlantic magazine that China’s leaders were “trying to stop history, which is a fool’s errand”. This may have been what provoked Wang Qishan, a Chinese deputy prime minister, to tell a television interviewer that Americans were “simple” (perhaps “innocent” conveys the Chinese word better), and have trouble understanding China, “because it is an ancient civilisation, and we are of the Oriental culture.”
Mr Wang will applaud Henry Kissinger’s latest work, a distillation of more than 40 years of involvement with China and its leaders, and an unabashedly Orientalist affirmation of the otherness of the country. The most riveting chapters deal with Mr Kissinger’s leading roles in the Nixon administration as it established links with Mao Zedong’s China. The well-known story bears retelling by a central protagonist who made his first, secret trip in July 1971, pleading illness to take a few days out of his official schedule while on a visit to Pakistan. President Richard Nixon’s own trip in 1972, which had been initiated by Mr Kissinger, was indeed a “week that changed the world”, as China and America ganged up to deter Soviet expansionism.
Mr Kissinger’s encounters with the urbane, conciliatory prime minister, Zhou Enlai, and the elliptical, moody Mao—and indeed with every senior Chinese leader since—make gripping reading. Some of Mao’s allusively poetic dialogue, in particular, is beyond parody: “At the approach of the rain and the wind the swallows are busy.” The panoramic authority with which the Chinese leaders (and their interlocutor) dissect the world is breathtaking.
But Mr Kissinger is not telling all. He recounts how, in the years beforehand, more than 100 exploratory meetings in Warsaw had made no progress because of Taiwan, which America still recognised as “the Republic of China”. It is not clear when or why America abandoned its notion that China should commit itself to peaceful reunification as a precondition for a presidential visit. China has never renounced the threat of invasion.
Nor does Mr Kissinger explain the thinking behind the communiqué signed after Nixon’s first visit, in which America acknowledged “that all Chinese on either side of the Taiwan Strait maintain there is but one China and that Taiwan is a part of China.” Large numbers of people in Taiwan have never maintained any such thing. But for China’s leaders, and, it seems Mr Kissinger himself, public opinion anywhere outside the United States is not really a factor when the geopolitical stakes are so high.
Before Mr Kissinger himself enters the narrative, the reader is offered 200 pages of history of modern China and its foreign relations. Most of this is uncontentious and well told. But it is marred by three related flaws. The first is Mr Kissinger’s insight that Chinese strategists think like players of wei qi or Go, which means that, in the long term, they wish to avoid encirclement. Westerners are chess-players, tacticians aiming to get rid of their opponents’ pieces “in a series of head-on clashes”, he writes. “Chess produces single-mindedness; wei qi generates strategic flexibility.”
This conceit has been used by other authors. It appears every few pages here like a nervous tic. Even before Mr Kissinger joins the game, the metaphor is pulled into service to analyse, among other things, Chinese policy in the Korean war, the Taiwan Strait crises of the 1950s (where, of course, “both sides were playing by wei qi rules”), the 1962 war with India (“wei qi in the Himalayas”). Later he describes events in Indochina as “a quadripartite game of wei qi”, just at the time when genocide was under way in Cambodia.
Second, the picture of Chinese foreign policy, as formulated by cool, calculating, master strategists playing wei qi, makes it appear more coherent, consistent and effective than it has been. China’s involvement in the Korean war, for example, led, in Mr Kissinger’s phrase, to “two years of war and 20 years of isolation”, hardly a goal for China—or a wei qi triumph.
Third, Mr Kissinger gives little weight to the fact that Mao, Zhou and the others were in fact communists. In power they soon replicated some of the forms of an imperial court, and China’s history always mattered more to them than “Das Kapital”. But one cannot ignore the influence of Mao’s adaptation of Marxist ideology on his foreign policy, let alone the importance to domestic politics of the Leninist structures imposed on the Chinese Communist Party in the 1920s, which still wears well.
In a rare admission of a blunder, Mr Kissinger recounts the only time he saw Zhou lose his serenity—at a banquet in Beijing in November 1973 when Mr Kissinger said that China had remained “essentially Confucian in its belief in a single, universal, generally applicable truth”. Communism, he suggested, had established Marxism as the content of that truth.
This was an extraordinary gaffe. Zhou was under indirect attack by Mao’s cronies through a campaign criticising Confucius. But his reaction also illustrates the prickliness of Chinese leaders when foreigners presume to pronounce on the eternal verities of Chinese culture.
If even the venerable Mr Kissinger can be caught out, what hope for American statesmen far less familiar with China? The problems that have beset relations since he left the stage are not surprising. His book describes the important role he played as an intermediary in trying to resolve the worst crisis—after the Beijing massacre of 1989. Shortly afterwards, the collapse of the Soviet Union deprived the relationship of its “defining shared purpose”.
Since then, America’s relations with China have been marked by a startling increase in economic interdependence, but not by any onset of mutual trust. Mr Kissinger notes that in the post-1989 era, China’s foreign-policy posture has been “closer to Bismarck’s than Mao’s”. It has, you could say, taken up chess.
In his closing chapter Mr Kissinger finally turns to the big question: does China’s astonishingly rapid rise condemn it to inevitable conflict with America? He notes the similarities with the rise of Germany a century ago and the inevitable threat it posed to the British empire. America and China, too, could easily fall into a cycle of escalating tension that would be hard to break. Optimistically, Mr Kissinger insists that “were history confined to the mechanical repetition of the past, no transformation would ever have occurred.” But on how to avoid such repetition, he is disappointingly vague.
from the print edition | Books and Arts
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中國人民究竟有幾個老朋友？
2012年的全國兩會上，我作為記者見到了政協委員周幼馬。和他父親馬海德一樣，他也有一雙標誌性的濃眉，在人群裡很容易辨認出來。
對於我的採訪請求，週幼馬顯得有些吃驚：“我父親和我的故事，現在很少有人關心了。”我說，正因為少為人知，才更有重新講述的必要。
生於1943年的周幼馬是在延安窯洞裡出生的第一個外國人。1936年，經宋慶齡的推薦，他的父親、美國醫生馬海德(Dr. George Hatem)和美國記者斯諾(Edgar Snow)一起前往紅軍的臨時駐地保安，見到了毛澤東和周恩來。後來，斯諾寫了著名的《西行漫記》(Red Star Over China)，而馬海德則留了下來，先後擔任了八路軍總衛生部顧問和毛澤東的保健醫生，之後又成為第一個加入中華人民共和國國籍和中國共產黨的外國人，也是唯一參加過紅軍、八路軍、解放軍的外國人。
1949年中共建政後，馬海德長期在基層從事消滅麻風病和性病的工作。1978年，他成為全國政協委員。2008年，週幼馬接過了已經去世的父親的接力棒，開始參加政協會議。
馬海德和斯諾擁有一個共同的稱謂：“中國人民的老朋友”。這個特殊的短語幾乎是每一個中國人都熟知的。2012年採訪週幼馬時，我的書稿《中國人民的老朋友》已經接近完成。對他及其他相關人士的採訪，後來成為我在《南方周末》發表的報導之一，也成為書稿的一小部分素材。
之所以對“中國人民的老朋友”感興趣，並且要專門寫一本書來講述他們的故事，是因為我發現，中國大眾對於這個短語有不少的誤解。
最典型的誤解，是認為“老朋友”都是專制政權的領袖或朋友。
2011年阿拉伯之春期間，埃及前總統穆巴拉克和利比亞領袖卡扎菲政權相繼倒台，中國互聯網上流行一個段子：“當今世界三大瀕危物種：大熊貓、金絲猴、中國人民的老朋友。”這個段子機智幽默，但畢竟有些以偏概全，甚至不符合事實。比如，卡扎菲並非中國人民的老朋友，他在台灣問題上的立場曖昧，為中共所不喜，更像是“台灣人民的老朋友”。
更重要的是，把“中國人民的老朋友”簡單化為專制政權的領袖或朋友，實際上大大忽略了歷史的複雜性。
為了完成《中國人民的老朋友》報導，借助接受中共領導的媒體《人民日報》的數據庫，我對“中國人民的老朋友”這個稱呼進行了全面的檢索和研究，最終確定了來自五大洲123個國家的601位老友。對這些老友的身份、經歷及被稱為老友的原因進行分析之後，我將他們分為四個代際：
斯諾和馬海德是第一代老友的代表。他們在1949年之前來到中國，或是向世界介紹當時還很弱小的中共，或是在戰場救死扶傷。當時，國民黨才是執政黨，日本人正在侵略中國，這批老友大多是理想主義者，他們報導官方禁止報導的話題，救助一度被視為異己、敵人的力量。2009年村上春樹獲耶路撒冷文學獎時發表《雞蛋與高牆》演講時說：“假如這裡有堅固的高牆和撞牆破碎的雞蛋，我總是站在雞蛋一邊。”所以我說，他們是站在“雞蛋”在一邊的人。後來，雞蛋變成了高牆，這群人的命運也發生了令人唏噓的變化。
1949年中共建政之後登場的是第二批“老朋友”。在冷戰的國際局勢下，在國際舞台上能否“同聲相應，同氣相求”更多成為判斷是否老友的標準，因此這個時期的老朋友大多是社會主義陣營和第三世界國家的領導人，比如柬埔寨的西哈努克(Norodom Sihanouk)。
1972年中日建交和美國前國務卿基辛格(Henry Kissinger)訪華，則標誌著另一批為國家友誼破冰的老友出現。他們有的是民間外交使者，比如日本的清水正夫夫婦和他們的松山芭蕾舞團；有的則是政治人物，比如尼克松(Richard Nixon)，這個在美國富有爭議的總統，因為在中美建交中發揮的重要作用，在中國始終享有良好的聲譽。
改革開放之後，第四批老友幫助中國逐步融入世界主流秩序，登上國際舞台。最典型的例子當屬為北京取得2008年奧運會主辦權幫忙不少的前奧委會主席薩馬蘭奇(Juan Antonio Samaranch)。
隨著國際局勢的風雲變幻，這四代老友的角色和發揮的作用完全不同。
《人民日報》的數據庫的數字還透露了其他一些有意思的信息：比如，老朋友中的日本人最多，達到111人，是排名榜眼的美國人的兩倍多。更有意思的是，根據我之前利用《人民日報》數據庫做的另一項研究：被中國官方宣稱“傷害中國人民感情”的國家和組織中，位居前兩位的同樣是日本（47次）和美國（23次）。
此外，我還根據每年《人民日報》上出現“中國人民的老朋友”這一段與的頻率製作了一張折線圖，在圖上有幾個高峰點：1978年，改革開放剛剛開始，與多國建交；1990年，六四事件之後受到國際社會的孤立，需要藉助老朋友開創“外交新局面”；1997年，鄧小平去世和香港回歸兩件大事讓眾多老友發來唁電和賀電。
這些數據上的發現都被我寫入了一篇發表於《南方周末》的報導中。但是，數字背後更多鮮活的個體命運的故事沒有充分的空間得以展現，因此後來我繼續這一話題的研究，並寫作了這本《中國人民的老朋友》。
時代的變遷深刻影響了老友們個人命運的沉浮。比如，在冷戰年代，第一批老友們的日子大多不好過。作為史上第一個與中共進行密切接觸，且寫書表示支持的外國記者，斯諾在美國成為麥卡錫主義的重點攻擊對象。
具有諷刺意味的是，斯諾在中華人民共和國成立後的一段時間內竟也成了“不受中國歡迎的人”。原來，當時毛澤東主要關注的是如何消除斯大林對他的懷疑，因此在政策上一邊倒地傾向蘇聯。然而，斯諾卻發出了“不和諧”的聲音。1949年4月，這位美國記者在《星期六晚郵報》(Saturday Evening Post)上發表文章稱：“經過對中國十餘年的直接研究，我認為，蘇維埃俄國難以有效地控制具有強烈民族意識的中國共產黨人。”他還說，從長遠看，中國共產黨“不可能也不願意使中國的民族利益從屬於克里姆林宮的利益”。
當時，南斯拉夫共產黨領導人鐵托正和斯大林鬧翻，斯諾卻不合時宜地對中國也做出了“鐵托式”的判斷。這讓中國政府對斯諾產生了很大的戒心。正因為如此，儘管斯諾從1949年開始就不斷致函毛澤東，請求重訪中國，但卻一直得不到肯定的答复。
這樣的例子也更讓我相信斯諾是有獨立人格的記者，而非某一派勢力的代言人。他所遭遇的也是保持獨立人格的悲劇——儘管中美雙方彼此敵對，但哪一方都沒有因此而欣賞他，遑論蘇聯。
另一位美國記者艾格尼絲·史沫特萊(Agnes Smedley)的命運也很淒涼。她是著名的左派記者，以支持中國的共產主義革命而著稱，1930年代曾以駐中國記者身份撰寫中國革命的報導。根據《黨史縱覽》的報導，1949年，身在美國的她健康狀況急轉直下，她急切希望到“新中國”看一看。但因為被懷疑是“共產黨人”、“蘇聯間諜”，她的護照申請屢次被拒。最後，時年75歲的前羅斯福政府內政部長哈羅德·伊克斯(Harold Ickes)幾番奔走，終於幫助史沫特萊獲得一張護照，但有效期僅一年，只能去英、法、意三國，但又不能去英國的屬地，特別是香港——所有的措施都是為了防止她去中國。她在生前無法自由遷徙，最終既沒能到她魂牽夢繞的中國看一看，也沒有回到當時極度排斥她的祖國，而是在頗為淒涼的晚景中客死英國。
另一批令人唏噓的老友，是被我稱為“外國遺老”的人，他們的代表包括韓丁、陽早、寒春。
1945年，美國人韓丁(William H. Hinton)受《西行漫記》的影響於1945年來到延安，後來他又鼓勵同學陽早(Erwin Engst)，以及陽早的未婚妻（也是韓丁的妹妹）寒春(Joan Hinton)來華。
寒春和陽早在延安的窯洞裡結了婚，韓丁也見證了新政權的建立，並以專家身份留在了中國。在一次電視訪問中，寒春講述了1952年的一段往事：曾經學習核物理的她深深被在日本爆炸的原子彈傷害，當年，她在亞太和平會議上譴責大國核軍備競賽，呼籲人們不要忘記歷史悲劇，科學要為和平服務。在那次亞太和平會議期間，寒春已經懷孕。同時出席會議的宋慶齡問：你給孩子起了什麼名字？寒春說還沒有取名。因為當時正在進行抗美援朝戰爭，所以旁邊有人建議給孩子起名“金”，但了解寒春的宋慶齡說：為什麼不給他起名叫“和平”呢？
於是，寒春生下的這個兒子得名陽和平。
韓丁、陽春、寒早，以及陽和平都是堅定的共產主義者。改革開放之後，中國一路奔向市場經濟，但這一家人的思想理念仍然活在計劃經濟時代。在今日的中國，居住於北京並在對外經貿大學任教的陽和平或許難找到知音。為了避免自己的感情變成“資本主義的”，陽和平拒絕投資股市，也沒有在跨國公司工作，因為那樣會讓他覺得“可能會站在帝國主義”一邊，這在良心上是不被允許的。他只能在“研究毛澤東時代政治和經濟”的課題中找到寄託。他曾在接受《國際先驅導報》時自嘲是四不像：“我，既不是中國人，又不是美國人，又不是知識分子，又不是工人。”
韓丁也始終懷念毛澤東時代，他甚至將文化大革命稱為“毛的偉大戰略計劃”。1993年，在北京舉行的紀念毛澤東誕辰100週年的茶話會上，時年74歲的韓丁激動地跳到舞台上，與表演者一起演唱《南泥灣》。
有意思的是，韓丁有個從小在中國長大的女兒卡瑪(Carma Hinton)。卡瑪與父親有著不同的政治觀點——這從她拍攝的反思文革的紀錄片《八九點鐘的太陽》就可以看出來。她的另一部紀錄片更為有名——講述1989年六四事件的《天安門》。
由於出版審查制度，《中國人民的老朋友》這本於大陸出版的書中是沒辦法直接提及這部紀錄片的名字的。同樣無法提及的，還有另一件事——斯諾的遺孀洛伊絲(Lois Wheeler Snow)一度同樣被稱為“中國人民的老朋友”，並受到極高規格的款待。但是在1989年之後，洛伊絲給“天安門母親”運動發起人丁子霖寫的信和捐助的款項都被中國官方扣留，她自己試圖到中國與丁子霖見面也被阻撓。對於這段故事，我只能隱晦地在書中寫道：有的老朋友始終關心著中國人的公民權利。
說到底，“中國人民的老朋友”這個標籤還是以中共為中心的，它的判斷標准說穿了還是“中國共產黨的老朋友”。但是，被貼上了這樣的標籤就是黨的人嗎？甚至如段子裡諷刺的那樣，是“瀕危”的壞人嗎？答案顯然要比我們想像的複雜得多。
正如周幼馬所說，老朋友們的故事已經被逐漸遺忘。我做的數據統計也顯示，中國官方對“中國人民的老朋友”這個短語的使用也呈現出明顯的下降趨勢。在告別這個具備鮮明時代特徵的稱謂之前，我所希望做的是盡力還原個體的故事，展現稱謂背後的複雜性。
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