林培瑞: 中共会不会彻底毁掉中国文明？

美国著名的汉学家，中国人民的真正老朋友林培瑞，在美国之音的评论《中共会不会彻底毁掉中国文明？》中抛出一个沉甸甸的问题：中共会不会彻底毁掉中国文明？回望历史，秦始皇焚书坑儒，隋炀帝穷兵黩武，成吉思汗铁蹄践踏，朱元璋大兴文字狱，这些古代暴君虽手段酷烈，却未能斩断华夏文明的根脉。然而，今日的中共不同，它握有现代科技的利器——摄像头遍布街头巷尾，大数据追踪每个人的足迹，人工智能分析每一句私语。这种前所未有的监控能力，让社会无处遁形，远超古代帝王所能想象。这股力量，会不会成为中国文明的终结者？

林培瑞（Eugene Perry Link, Jr.；1944年—）,哈佛大学中国历史博士，汉学家。普林斯顿大學东亚系荣休教授，现任加利福尼亚大学河濱分校校長特聘講座教授。

加拿大记者张彦（Ian Johnson）在《星火：中国的地下历史学家和他们为未来的斗争》中，却点燃了一盏微光。他记述了一群不屈的灵魂——记者、教授、学生、电影制作者，他们冒着被捕甚至丧命的风险，坚持记录历史的真相。比如，林昭在1960年代用鲜血写下对毛政权的控诉，被秘密处决；遇罗克在文革中发表《出身论》，质疑血统决定命运的荒谬，终被枪决；刘晓波因起草《零八宪章》呼吁民主，获诺贝尔和平奖却死于狱中。这些人并非孤例。从1950年代土改中约200万“地主”被杀，到1959-1962年大饥荒导致3000万至4500万人饿死，再到1989年天安门广场的血腥镇压，乃至2017年以来新疆至少100万维吾尔人被关进“再教育营”，他们用文字和影像揭露暴行，延续着反抗的薪火。

这些抗争者为何前仆后继？林培瑞认为，这不仅是因为少数人的英勇无畏，更因暴政从未停歇。数据显示，自1949年中共建政以来，政治运动接连不断：1957年反右运动整肃55万人，1966-1976年文革波及上亿人，2000年代维权律师如高智晟被失踪，2022年白纸抗议后无数年轻人被拘捕。只要压迫存在，反抗就不会熄灭。他们的精神源泉，深植于中国文化的“义”。屈原在《离骚》中以身殉国，抒发对正义的追寻；苏轼在《赤壁赋》中面对流放仍乐观豁达，彰显人格力量。这些千古流传的篇章，滋养着今天的地下历史学家。他们记录真相，不仅是对过去的忠诚，更是对未来的承诺。张彦写道：“他们希望后人知道，在2020年代，当一切黑暗到极点时，中国人没有屈服。”这仿佛一封穿越时空的信，寄给未知的明天。

中共为何对这些异见者如此恐惧？一个经济总量达17万亿美元、军队200万人的政权，竟被几支笔吓得寝食难安，原因藏在“合法性”的裂缝中。中共自称继承“天命”，如古代帝王般将历史书写为必然的光荣篇章，同时又承袭列宁主义，将“党”奉为永无瑕疵的圣物。毛泽东或可“七三开”，但党必须100%正确。若真相暴露——如土改实为杀5%人口以立威，大饥荒非天灾而是人祸——其统治根基便岌岌可危。捷克作家哈维尔在《无权者的权力》中写道，索尔仁尼琴一句真话，就让苏联的铁幕露出破绽。同样，中共的宣传外壳看似坚硬，实则不堪一击，因其价值观——“三反五反”“四个现代化”“习核心”等口号——与百姓的日常需求，如医疗、教育、公正，始终脱节。

中国文明会毁于中共之手吗？或许答案不在宏大的预言中，而在这些具体的抗争里。2022年11月，上海乌鲁木齐路举起的白纸，点燃全国抗议；2023年，匿名者在网络散布被禁的《四通桥宣言》。这些微小却顽强的火花，证明文明的韧性未灭。中共或许能压倒一时，但历史的真相，如同地下暗流，总会找到出路。

来源：https://www.voachinese.com/a/perry-link-commentary-20250311/8006574.html

Perry Link, in his commentary for Voice of America, poses a haunting question: Will the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) ultimately destroy Chinese civilization? History offers a lens—tyrants like Qin Shi Huang burned books and buried scholars, Sui Yangdi waged relentless wars, Genghis Khan trampled empires with his cavalry, and Zhu Yuanzhang unleashed literary purges. Yet, none severed the lifeline of Chinese culture. Today’s CCP, however, wields a modern arsenal: cameras on every corner, big data tracking every step, AI dissecting every whisper. This omnipresent surveillance, unimaginable to ancient despots, blankets society in a way that prompts the question—could it fracture China’s millennia-old civilization?

Canadian journalist Ian Johnson, in his book Sparks: China’s Underground Historians and Their Battle for the Future, offers a flicker of hope. He chronicles the defiant spirits—reporters, professors, students, filmmakers—who risk imprisonment or death to document the truth. Take Lin Zhao, who in the 1960s wrote indictments of Mao’s regime in her own blood, only to be secretly executed; Yu Luoke, who penned On Class Origins during the Cultural Revolution, challenging the absurdity of fate-by-birth, and was shot; Liu Xiaobo, drafter of Charter 08, who won the Nobel Peace Prize but died in custody. These are not isolated cases. From the 1950s land reform that killed some 2 million “landlords,” to the Great Famine of 1959-1962 that starved 30 to 45 million, to the 1989 Tiananmen massacre, and the detention of at least 1 million Uyghurs in “re-education camps” since 2017, these underground historians have used words and images to expose atrocities, keeping the flame of resistance alive.

Why do these fighters persist, generation after generation? Perry Link suggests it’s not just the courage of a few, but the ceaseless brutality of tyranny that fuels them. The numbers speak: since 1949, political campaigns have been relentless—550,000 purged in the 1957 Anti-Rightist Movement, over 100 million affected by the 1966-1976 Cultural Revolution, human rights lawyers like Gao Zhisheng “disappeared” in the 2000s, and countless youths detained after the 2022 White Paper protests. As long as oppression endures, rebellion will rise. Their moral bedrock lies in China’s ancient concept of “righteousness” (yi). Qu Yuan’s Li Sao mourns his exile with a cry for justice; Su Shi’s Red Cliff Ode radiates resilience amid banishment. These timeless works nourish today’s truth-tellers. They record not just for fidelity to the past, but as a pact with the future. Johnson writes, “They want future Chinese to know that in the 2020s, when darkness reached its peak, people did not surrender.” It’s a letter sealed in a time capsule, addressed to posterity.

So why does the CCP tremble before these dissenters? A regime with a $17 trillion economy and a 2-million-strong army, rattled by a handful of pens—it seems absurd, yet it’s profound. The CCP’s “legitimacy” teeters on a fragile edge. It claims a mandate from heaven, like ancient emperors, scripting history as an inevitable triumph, while borrowing Leninism’s dogma of an infallible Party. Mao might be judged “70% right, 30% wrong,” but the Party must be 100% pure. If the truth spills out—that land reform was a calculated slaughter of 5% of the population to cement power, or that the Great Famine was no natural disaster but a man-made calamity—the foundation crumbles. Czech writer Václav Havel, in The Power of the Powerless, observed how Solzhenitsyn’s truths exposed the Soviet facade. Likewise, the CCP’s propaganda shell—slogans like “Three Antis, Five Antis,” “Four Modernizations,” “Xi as the Core”—feels invincible until a single voice pierces it, revealing its disconnect from the people’s daily concerns: healthcare, education, fairness.

Will Chinese civilization perish under the CCP? The answer may not lie in grand prophecies, but in these stubborn sparks. In November 2022, blank sheets of paper raised on Shanghai’s Urumqi Road ignited nationwide protests; in 2023, anonymous voices online spread the banned Sitong Bridge Manifesto. These small, tenacious acts prove the civilization’s resilience endures. The CCP may crush the moment, but history’s truth, like an underground stream, will always find its way.