CHINA, NATIONAL, SOCIETY, EDITORIAL: Korea Steals “Duan Wu”

By Deng Jing

South Korea recently succeeded in bringing the title "World cultural heritage" from UNESCO to a "Duan Wu" festival as their endangered tradition.

Upon learning of this, at first I felt ridiculous; then, furious and bitter; finally, I turned to happy and hopeful.

Dating back from 2200 years ago, a patriotic yet exiled aristocrat drowned himself in the Yangzi River at the news that his nation was conquered. His name was Qu Yuan. In folk stories he is handsome and elegant, talented at poetics in history, but too high-minded to survive in politics--a typical ancient Chinese literate.

According to the story coming down through thousands of years, people boated 9 days and 9 nights looking for Qu Yuan's remains, which is the origin of "dragon boat" races. So that fish would not eat his remains, people made "zongzi" (a type of food) for the fish to eat instead; it became a custom that every Chinese eats zongzi that day in memory of him. All the things Qu's fellowmen did in a desperate flurry of rescue attempts, formed a custom, then a festival, in Chinese it is called "Duan Wu" (端午节).

In deference to the fact that Qu, standing for the Chinese spirit, has been honored as a national hero, it is grossly ridiculous for me to connect Koreans with "Duan Wu." Qu Yuan is definitely Chinese, yet UNESCO adjudged a festival in honor of him to Koreans? Next time will they adjudge bullfighting to China?

I saw it as a Mission Impossible for the Koreans' plan the first time I heard the news. "It must be yellow news coming out of some foreigners who have not the slightest knowledge of China," I asserted, and forgot that the experts with UNESCO also possess no such knowledge.

The Korean ambassador said that the Korean version of "Duan Wu" greatly differs from the original one in many aspects--sure, so they don't have to worship a foreign guy. Then why do they still stick to this name!

It's just like you raise a baby, and just because you did not apply for an ID card for your child, others who did apply can tear your offspring away from you, legally. You suddenly turn out to be only a passer-by.

This bitter notion upset me, but what provoked my anger were some domestic scholars' opinions. In the process of application they just weakly protested to God-knows-who; then when seeing it's hopeless to win, they resort to preaching that it's a good thing to see Chinese customs "gain popularity and development in other countries."

In the name of the dead! Do they realize that the Korean's success means that "Duan Wu" will no longer be admitted as a Chinese tradition? Have they realized in the future that we will have to explain that a festival is both Chinese and Korean? That it originates from China but now is acknowledged as Korean tradition? Don't they think it's too much like a bitter tongue twister?

They raise the analogy that Chinese antiques in the British Museum have received proper, even better safekeeping than those at home. Moreover, it's beneficial to spread Chinese civilization in this great international museum.

All right, this analogy reminds me of another.

We all know Chinese attach much importance to family. However, in the old days, when Chinese met cataclysm, the poor sold their children to anyone who offered a passable price--as parents, they would rather leave children to destiny than bring them to death together, hoping the kids can be raised in a better environment.

Reduced to that plight, they believe the sovereign priority is to live.

Nobody is entitled to condemn them. But everyone will throw stones at them if they are well to do and still sell their children for money.

That's the thing. When I see the heads of Buddha hanging on the wall of the British Museum, I feel inevitably ashamed as well as happy for them for evading endless wars and the Cultural Revolution. As long as they can survive, I don't care who preserves them. But China now is neither in wartime nor cataclysm, I see no ground why we should sell a tradition born from our own culture.

No, I will never agree with such opinion that storing Chinese antiquities in foreign countries is a good thing so we needn't care. No, I will never consider giving up a tradition or antiques to other countries as "generosity"; on the contrary, it uncovers our inability. No, I will never forgive dapper experts and officials who always preach that because China has a 5000-year history it's not a big deal if we abandon some of it.

That's the worst thing; I didn't mention that we Chinese as well lack knowledge of China.

Qu Yuan was a tragic person. He aspired for a stronger motherland but the king didn't; he saw his ambition along with the nation come to naught; in storm and flash he queried the gods but no answer came down to comfort him. And now his death is a foreign festival for people to enjoy themselves.

So many years have passed from the day Qu Yuan chose a clean death over a dog's life. So long that we almost forgot him: as boat races gradually disappeared in cities; as we became rich enough to eat food more delicious than zongzi; as the standard of a national hero was turned to profit-making; and as his blood-cemented poem, which used to be universally sung by girls and scholars, has been too recondite for modern Chinese to comprehend-- classical Chinese is too hard to master and English is more useful and international after all.

I myself have never seen a dragon boat race. I can buy zongzi in the dining hall as often as I want. To say nothing of other less famous customs. And I am not exceptional at all.

It is we who abandoned him in the first place, along with our mutual memory, which is nicknamed "history."

Then my agony was appeased and I became enlightened. I should not be angry with Koreans, but instead thank them for this event. But for them, I as well as most Chinese would not pay any attention to an out-of-date festival. We witnessed its fading, however, on the verge of its death it is rescued by the Koreans.

Should I be happy? Maybe. Now that it survives--though in a different body. I even fancy that maybe this event can catch some eyeballs and avert them to the treasure we have abandoned as rubbish and a burden.

People learn to cherish only after great loss. I hope so. But may I feel a cautious optimism? It depends. After all China has a very long history, with a great many traditions, and there will not always be people who will turn up as a rescuer, or a reminder.