Newsletter No. 190

CUHK Newsletter No. 190 19th October 2001 3 Famous Sociologist on Chinese Modernizat ion P rof. Fei Hsiao Tung, famous scholar and professor of sociology at Peking University, delivered a keynote speech e n t i t l ed ' De v e l o pme nt o f H i gh Technology and Reconstruction of Humanities' at the seventh conference on 'The Application of Social Sciences and Chinese Modernization', which took place on 6th October in the K i l bo rn Room of the College Administration Building in Chung Chi College. The conference, jointly organized by Chung Chi College, Dharma Drum College of Humanities and Social Sciences, the Institute of Sociology and Anthropology of Peking University, and the College of Indigenous Studies of National Dong Hwa University, was one of the 50th anniversary celebration activities of Chung Chi College. Scottish Summer for B.EdStudents N ine Year 2 B.Ed. (Language Education) students took part in a s i x - we ek summer i mme r s i on p r og r amme at the Un i v e r s i ty o f Edinburgh, Scotland, in June and July, the second overseas i mme r s i on programme organized by the Faculty of Education. Administered by the Institute of Applied Language Studies of the University of Edinburgh, the programme aimed at providing student teachers of English an opportunity to understand the cultures of English-speaking countries, expanding their exposure to educational practices overseas, and promoting their competence in English. The programme comprised English language enhancement sessions, teaching methodology workshops, presentations on British culture, visits to schools, and other social and cultural activities. During the six weeks, the students stayed wi th host families in Edinburgh. Forum This is a forum for the free expression of opinions on specific topics — topics proposed by the CUHK Newsletter or by readers. Faculty and staff are welcome to suggest topics, contribute articles, or respond to views expressed herein. Rumours of War Dedicated to those murdered on 11th September 2001 in New York and Washington D.C., to remind us of the insidious effects of hate and the corrosive propensities of vengeance, such that they do not die in vain. R umours of war are in the air. The citizens are eager. The Congress is supportive. The president is determined. The soldiers are ready. A stopped clock here, a burnt cabinet there, mangled body parts everywhere. Tears dropped, hearts broken, blood all over. Hatred and vengeance married for convenience, destroying understanding and killing compassion. The nation, from shore to shore and top to bottom, exhibits a unity of purpose and shared sense of mission never seen before. 'U.S.A., U.S.A., U.S.A ....' rocked the ruins that was once prosperity, exciting patriotism and drowning out reason. Rescue efforts give way to preparation for killing. Flags and more flags meet the eye, stirring emotions and blocking vision. Resources for rebuilding are now devoted to more destruction. In times of crisis, one finds strength in numbers and comfort in agreement. Criticisms are silenced. Dissenters are not welcome. Truth and justice, much too abstract to be relevant in international conflicts and far too distant to matter in times of national crisis, are best left behind. I f pressed, there are more pragmatic reasons. Truth and justice are too heavy a burden for those who go to war. The soldiers in the trenches need powerful rifles to execute, not compelling reasons to forgive. Left behind but not forgotten, the president is quick to add. 'This is a just war. The truth is on our side.' Truth and justice have always been on the side of the powerful and the lips of the victor. Who is there to write history, but the living? The Congressional representatives came to perform their duty — to God, country, and people. One after another, they denounced the secretive and faceless enemies as fearsome terrorists and ruthless killers. Time and again the terrorists struggled to be heard — i n trembling voices and fearful faces, above the moaning of the victims and the mourning of their relatives. 'Is that the face that launched a thousand ships?' A 'prime suspect' stands condemned, with atrocities laid bare and violence revealed. Accuser, judge, and executioner all in one, America announced the verdict with legalese to match: 'We have reliable and credible evidence to show that Osama bin Laden is the one.' No time to think. Not a moment to waste. Hate must be served raw. Vengeance has to be delivered on a hot plate. Let us destroy those terrorists; someone, anyone, everyone. Faceless no more; dark skin will do. Complicity not required; guilt by association will suffice. The annals of Congressional records, littered with self-incriminating statements, await the judgment of history. The war tribunal need not inquire. We acted in good conscience and with clean hands. And just to be fair, American blood must be avenged, at all costs and by whatever means. Sorrow deeply felt and condolences sincerely uttered, people from every corner of the world and all walks of life came with fresh flowers for the dead and consoling words for the living. Obliged by divided customs and driven by common bonding, they lined up to shed their tears and share their grief. The whole world is watching, waiting; some with sweet anticipation, others with bitter anxiety. A few want to escape from the humdrum of modernity, to feel something, anything. Many more just want to be titillated, collecting bits and pieces of living memory on way to eternal salvation or perpetual damnation. The rumours of war have sounded the ultimate alarm — get up and do something, or else... The eerier silence of war... A ll is quiet on the western front. Not a word spoken. Lest we betray our humanity. Silence is golden. Else we reveal our vulnerability. Our only hope for peace — understanding, shattered by the rhetoric of war. Our best chance for survival — communication, consumed by the silence of despair. A sleek missile pierces the darkness of the night, promising deliverance to the dead and spreading suffering amongst the living. 'Pay back time for Osama bin Laden' the missile roars; passing the market place, the town square, the school grounds...to destroy what takes years to build up and centuries to root down. Not fast enough for the senders. Too slow for the wounded. Time makes no difference to the living dead or dead, living. The missiles hit their targets as intended, lightening up the entire sky. A compliant stillborn is laid to rest in a sheltered womb, who will never be acquainted with life before dying. A struggling infant suffocates in a protective embrace, who will never understand death after living. Is the faceless mother a terrorist in disguise? Is the stillborn guilty of being born to a terrorist? Is the infant an indiscriminate killer in the making? How can the missile tell? Does it really matter? Bombs are dropped. Missiles are fired. Still, the terrorists keep coming. Rifles keep firing, cannons roaring. Still, there is no sign that the enemy is relenting. For everyone injured, ten more are waiting. With each one killed, a hundred more appear chanting 'We shall overcome. We shall overcome...' Then come the army, navy, air force, and marines. Brave men and women they are. In the face of machine guns, they charged. 'Mine is not to ask the reason why.' 'Mine is to do and to die.' Mothers and fathers miles away, hoping and wishing that the body found unidentified is their neighbours' son. Right and wrong entangled, courtesy of a confused and confusing war. The soldiers march in certitude; the parents staggered in uncertainty. Yet another contradiction of war too convoluted to ponder, too pertinent to ignore. Little by little, hope gives way to despair and denial turns into acceptance. Rumours become reality, long before the first strike hits and way after the last dead falls. Peace...peace is at hand. A time to rejoice. A moment to savour. A footnote to a victorious military campaign: 'Mission accomplished. Enemy destroyed. Collateral damages, few.' A perfect ending to an imperfect war? Words alone do not do justice to the living and the dead. They are much too simple to capture life and living, way too bland to describe death and dying. Bring in the CNN. Talk to a soldier. Share with a widow. War is not suited for the faint of heart, just as peace is not possible with the simple-minded. Another total victory for the terrorists; they come, they see, they conquer. First they kill our brothers and sisters, then they destroy our venerable institutions, undermine our sacred principles, and finally they capture our souls. Hate, revenge, murder... We too become terrorists. Kam C. Wong Department of Government and Public Administration 18th September 2001 Postscript: There is no denial of man's primal identity or escape from humans' collective destiny. When will we ever learn? Can we ever learn?