Xu Qi: The Imprint of Thoughts: Philosophical Thinking on Cultural Issues

Gu Jiu

I have known Xu Qi 徐圻 for years. We are of roughly the same age， educational background， and career and， naturally， share many common interests and concerns. That is why I enjoy any chance for a te?te-a?-te?te with him and reading his work. Having two of his publications on my bookshelf， I am very glad to write something on his most recent book， The Imprint of Thoughts： Philosophical Thinking on Cultural Issues [思想的印跡——文化問題的哲學(xué)斷想]， which reminds me of our enjoyable conversations in bygone days—a sleepless night of talking over a cup of tea by the glowing stove， finding myself both heartily chuckling at his words and passionately debating with him.

Owing to Xus research in philosophy， the books subtitle strikes me as conveying more than the words might suggest. It is said that philosophical inquiries point to exploring the cosmos at one end and human existence at the other. The cosmos is certainly a boundless area for inquiry， for which Western philosophers had once designated their research as “natural philosophy” embracing all the natural sciences as well. Chinese philosophers， who were more concerned with human affairs （society） have set it as their goal to explore the human world and gauge the principle of human existence， and so their philosophies belong to the realm of culture. I believe that is why Xu uses the words “philosophy” and “culture” in the subtitle.

Xus book is an attempt to reflect on human life in a world of existence beset with paradoxes or antinomies： the old and the new， elegance and vulgarity， life and death， idealism and reality， spirit and material， happiness and misery， and reason and intuition. Of all these issues， what most persistently haunts him and lingers in his mind， in my opinion， is an antinomy between Chinese and Western cultures， and between ideal existence and real-world frustration. Xu has been studying Western philosophy for years and has had close ties with traditional Chinese culture when in charge of Guiyang Confucius Academy. He has both vestiges of the idealism of the Maoist era of revolutionary China and the realism shaped by his experience along the tortuous road of the Peoples Republic of China.

As a consequence， he is able to see the respective merits and shortfalls with both Chinese and Western cultures. In his words， “Chinese culture carries the deep-rooted intellectual lifeline of a five-thousand-year-old civilization and represents her unique spiritual features， nourishing her growth and supporting her continuity with plenty of resources.” That is the great asset of Chinese culture. “Its excessive preference for practical realism and pragmatism has resulted in some deficiency of idealism and critical consciousness . . . a preference too inclined to the sensual， the graspable and the immediately beneficial， but lacking in depth or farsightedness.” That is its major shortcoming.

Xu likes to talk of the many valuable traits of Western culture with which he is so familiar： the transcendence of Christianity， the skepticism of David Hume， the critical rigor of Immanuel Kant， and the humane care of Karl Marx， to mention only a few， and their fruitful results： freedom， democracy， science， law， and the freeing of productive forces by the market economy. Nevertheless， he is equally concerned with their negative side. He reflects on them and reveals the double-edged influence of science， for one thing， and is particularly wary of the negative influence of commercialism.

In views on the relationship of the ideal and the real， Xus book is buoyant with hopeful optimism， calling for cherishing lofty aspirations， pursuing excellence， valuing traditions， and embracing the outside world. If everything had gone well in China， these hopes could have been fulfilled by “keeping the roots， absorbing the foreign， and looking to the future” and by integrating the best of Chinese culture， Western culture， and Marxism into a single unity. However， as is noted in the Marxs analysis， pre-modern societies gave rise to personal relations of dependence， which materialized in China as a society centered on officialdom. And when this traditional society entered the modern commercial era， it resulted in a dependency on materials， giving rise to the money worship of the West. Contrary to either of the two social realities， an ideal society， according to Xu， should have discarded all the maladies of both but absorbed all their merits. This hard fact is quite disappointing to Xu， who remarks，

The rules of the market in the West and the rules of officialdom in traditional China， until then had nothing to do with each other， if indeed they were not mutually exclusive in their own paths. Paradoxically， they have become infused into each other in the past decades and given birth to a third cultural ecology by a merger instead of a substitution.

Xu has made deep reflections on and criticism of this metamorphosis， and the alarm that he is sounding is loud enough to awaken us all：

If we continue to put material gain and practical benefits foremost and ignore the development， cultivation， dissemination， and popularization of the nations intellectual and spiritual capacity， I doubt if we could ever live up to the expectation of the mid–twenty-first century when our intellectual attainment and civic quality should rise to meet international standards outside China. If we should fail in that aspect， it would be an inadequacy in our project for “great national rejuvenation，” but more in name than reality.

I feel deep sympathy with this misgiving of Xus.

As might be expected， Xu does not limit himself to serious discourse and rational analysis， also adding pleasant expositions of the obscure profundity of philosophy with his lively， easy-going style， colored with anecdotes that add to the vividness， richness， and popular appeal of his subject matter. He is certainly committed， as a philosopher， to counseling people on the many aspects of any problem to be solved.

Qian Zhongshu 錢鍾書 （1910–1998） once remarked that scholarly research is like staying at an old cottage in a deserted settlement and is properly the province of an exceptionally few people with untainted minds. In spite of his advice， I would hope for a more spacious place， so as to have many of my old friends， new friends， and some youngsters， to join us in listening to his thought-provoking talks. Hence this review， which I hope may serve as a prelude to the book.

Translated by Wang Keyou