45 years after Pierre Trudeau and Jacques Hébert published Deux Innocents en Chine Rouge, Trudeau’s son Alexandre and Hébert travel to China. It’s a changed country, reports Alexandre (Sacha) Trudeau, and still coming to grips with the history his fath

SHANGHAI

acques Hébert and I

are in a conference

room at the offices of

the Shanghai People’s Press addressing 50 or so Chinese journalists about the launch of the Chinese edition of Deux Innocents en Chine Rouge. The translation comes 45 years after Pierre Trudeau and Hébert originally visited Maoist China and published their account of their trip and what they saw. I was asked to write a preface to the book’s Chinese edition ( see page D4).

Hébert calls the Chinese publication of the book “ a miracle.” Indeed, one must truly ask why it is that, almost half a century after its publication in Canada, a big Chinese publishing house would decide to launch a Chinese edition of this relatively obscure little book. The answer is by no means simple.

This “ miracle” begins with a few intrepid people, none more so than Ling Xia, the Chinese Canadian lawyer who originally approached Jacques with the idea of a Chinese edition and translated the first few chapters to get the ball rolling. But if Ling took on the cause, it was because this book was deemed to have some significance for China. A Chinese- speaking friend of mine told me that the book’s Chinese title basically means “ The Red China of two masculine men who believe the sky is real.” When I relate that interpretation to Ling, she laughs at me and tells me that is an overly literal translation and, though, the root characters in the title may be deconstructed that way, readers would understand the title to mean “ The Red China of two naïve guys.”

JOf course, “Red China” is a Western expression. On arrival in Shanghai, I ask why it is being used in the title. “ China used to be only one colour — ‘ red,’ ” the book’s Chinese editor, Shao Ming, explains to me. “ Now China is many colours.”

At the press conference, in a delicately oblique manner, Shao tells the assembled journalists that the period observed by Trudeau and Hébert was an important period for China, one of great passion. (“Passion” is a word often used to describe that reddest era of Red China.) Shao then says that when things are happening, those involved are often too close to the events to properly evaluate them. Likewise, with the passage of time, our memories of events are transformed just as we ourselves are. We are thus unable to accurately ponder those events.

Indeed, to properly bring important moments into the fold of history, Shao goes on to say, it is often useful, if not outright necessary, to consult unbiased outsiders. Hébert and Trudeau were such outsiders. People like that are rare during tumultuous times, he concludes.

I understand this to mean that history is often assembled by reclaiming its elements from varied sources, by patching them together and declaring them to be history. Until this is done, what happened is perhaps still happening. In other words, until history is forged with the appropriate markers, the past is still both present and possibly future. The publishing of “The Red China of two naïve guys” is a subtle way to say that the things witnessed therein — the planned economy, the supreme sanctity of heavy industry, the drone of revolutionary mantras — are things past, and that the past is slowly being put to rest. As Hébert and I return to Shanghai, him after a 45- year absence, me after only 15 years, we are both struck by the monumental changes here. It is clear a certain side of China has been put to rest. The China we both remember was a fairly austere place. Shanghai is now a glitteringly modern metropolis. All the forces of consumption have been unleashed here. And, as in the days of old, every appetite finds satisfaction in Shanghai. Back in the day, China was also fairly formal. I remember that during our visit to China in 1990, my brother and I first realized how sarcastic my father could be and, secondly, that the little sarcasms that he always added to his friendly toasts and speeches were getting lost in translation. It seemed he was being taken literally. We were a little worried.

Hébert tells me that the China he knew with my father was even more severe. The banquets were entirely devoid of laughter. The cities shut down at 9 p. m. “ In the book,” he says, “ we had to call a female translator, ‘ the girl in the green polka dot dress.’

“ We called her that because we didn’t even know her name. She was strictly forbidden to engage in conversation with us. She could only translate.

“ But we were innocents. We had to amuse ourselves,” Jacques recalls. “ We would always proceed in groups of three. Each of us paired up with two Chinese: an official and a translator.

“ Once, as your father was explaining something very serious to his two companions, in midsentence he launched himself into a dramatic shoulder roll, came right back up to his feet and, without missing a beat, continued his sentence as if nothing had happened.

“ There was not a smile around. I can only imagine the reports that the Chinese officials were filing on us.” These days, Hébert is teaching me what it means to be innocent. A little playfulness? A little sarcasm? Why not? The innocent doesn’t know better. He believes the sky is real. He is naïve and without knowledge. But he is also without prejudice. Innocents make the best travellers. And, as it turns out, they may also make the best historians. What is most ironic about Hébert’s persistent innocence is that it is combined with age. Age has a special significance in China. It carries with it enormous gravitas. At 82, Jacques commands ample respect here. But he does not passively bask in the respect bestowed on him by time. Age is his comedic edge. He can get a way with even more mischief than before.

This time, our friends make it clear that China is in a much more playful mood. With Jacques holding court, our banquets are filled with laughter. Chinese- Canadian relations have gotten a lot more colourful. Never one to miss an opportunity, Jacques finishes his speech to this attentive audience of 50 prominent journalists by plugging his favourite cause: Canada World Youth, a world- changing organization that he started 35 years ago with my father. Canada World Youth is really his institutionalized way of teaching innocence. He explains to the crowd: “ Confucius tells us it is important to have good ideas. But it is more important to have the emperor’s ear. And this is what I had when I brought the idea of Canada World Youth to my friend Pierre Trudeau, then prime minister of Canada.

“ I am pleased to tell you that, through Canada World Youth, for four years now a new generation of innocent Canadians is now exploring China and a new generation of innocent Chinese is exploring Canada.” As he returns to his seat after his speech, Jacques nudges me.

“ I made the Confucius quote up,” he whispers to me with a mischievious grin. “ Just like in the old days.” Long live innocence! Alexandre Trudeau is a journalist and documentary filmmaker based in Montreal. He is also a director of Canada World Youth.