俞孔堅：紅線敵托邦，在七叉與一位農民的對話

注：原中英文全文刊發于《景觀設計學》（Landscape Architecture Frontiers）2022年第6期。獲取全文免費下載鏈接請點擊https://journal.hep.com.cn/laf/EN/10.15302/J-LAF-1-010028；參考引用格式見文末。

紅線敵托邦：在七叉與一位農民的對話

Redline Dystopias：A Dialogue With a Farmer in Qicha

俞孔堅

北京大學建筑與景觀設計學院

“紅線”（redline）泛指在國土空間和城鄉規劃設計領域，為了表示某種過程或要素的重要性而在空間上劃定的保護或監管的邊界線或底線^[1][2]——諸如基本農田保護紅線、生態紅線、水紅線（即水源保護和水安全的邊界）、文化遺產紅線（即文化遺產保護的邊界）等。紅線還包括具體地域內基于某一保護目的而劃定的邊界，如村莊的建設邊界、特定湖泊（如洱海、滇池等）的保護紅線等。

對于國土空間規劃設計師來說，通過劃定紅線來限定無序的發展和無節制的人類干擾、保護重要的自然與文化資產、構建美麗城鄉，是實現人與自然和諧共生圖景的第一步，也是必由之路，我把它稱為“反規劃”或“逆規劃”^[3]。一旦劃定這樣的紅線，產權便得以界定，管理職權便得以劃清，法規政策便可落地，紛繁的自然與社會系統便可有條不紊，空間管控秩序因此得以建立。但殊不知，這只是規劃師和管理者們心目中的“烏托邦”而已；現實世界中，由于紅線的劃定缺乏科學基礎、規范缺乏因地制宜的靈活性、管理缺乏實事求是的能動性，這種美麗國土烏托邦愿景卻走向了其反面——破壞我們家園的“敵托邦”景觀，我稱之為“紅線敵托邦”（redline dystopia）。從祖國首都到最偏遠的少數民族鄉村，在踏訪了眾多的城市和村莊、經過從與地方官員會談到和田頭耕作的鄉民聊天之后，我認為其中最不可思議的紅線敵托邦景象之一是“基本農田紅線敵托邦”（capital farmland dystopia）。

糧食安全是一個國家的頭等大事，對中國尤其如此。給基本農田劃定紅線是必須的，把耕地優先用于糧食和棉、油、糖等農產品生產是理所當然的，嚴防耕地“非農化”“非糧化”也是可以理解的。但如果不尊重科學，不實事求是，機械地、不加思考地執行這些規定，可怖的基本農田紅線敵托邦便會出現。

在中國海南省一個偏遠的山間盆地里，坐落著一個名叫“七叉”的小盆地，里面分布著數個小村莊。我驚嘆于其濃郁的黎族風情、優美的風景、百年的芒果林，還有從每家每戶門口經過的潺潺流水——那是來自熱帶雨林的山泉水。在我眼中，這是一個“流奶與蜜之地”！

然而，當我審視腳下的土壤，放眼整個盆地的田濤，并與田頭的鄉民聊天時，我卻失望了。這里，基本農田的紅線被一直劃到亂石山坡上，村子被一圈水泥路所圍合——作為村莊建設用地與基本農田的邊界，紅線成了“銅墻鐵壁”！往昔村莊與田野、與山林、與水的有機聯系被割裂，本來的畫里鄉村全然沒有了美麗；盆地里本該是綿延的稻田，我卻看到了許多被長期撂荒長滿茅草的田塊。我所期待的田園應該有“魚塘桑竹”，田間是林蔭小徑，田埂上更是香蕉、木瓜、檳榔之類，而非如此單調的田野和光禿禿的水泥灌渠。這是一種典型的泛濫于大江南北的基本農田紅線敵托邦景觀。

美麗的海南昌江黎族自治縣七叉盆地，“基本農田敵托邦”景觀正在蔓延，尤恐桃花源消失在鄉村振興的黎明之前。

? 俞孔堅

以下為我與一位田間耕作的農民的對話。

問：在這么肥沃的盆地里，為什么有這么多的地塊被撂荒？這么好的灌溉條件，鄉民們為什么不愿意種水稻？這水里怎么沒有魚和其他我所期待的在農田里能看到的動物和植物？

答：這些撂荒的田塊是基本農田，只允許種水稻等糧食作物，而水稻的勞作成本太高，每畝收益不如付出。土地一旦被劃定為基本農田就不能種植收益更高的經濟作物，包括多年生的蔬菜和水果。一般林地可以用來種植檳榔、木瓜、菠蘿蜜、百香果、香蕉等高收益的作物和果樹，所以每畝土地租金可以到幾千元，而基本農田只能種糧食，因此租金遠不如一般農田、園地和林地。所以我們除了滿足自己食用以外，不如撂荒了事。即便勉強種上了水稻，也必須靠大量使用化肥和除草劑來維持。所以除了稻苗，哪還會有別的生命！

問：為什么綿延的田里沒有水塘和濕地，灌渠都是水泥澆筑？早在漢代，我們的先民就知道“四頃田必開一頃塘”“四水歸明堂”“肥水不流外人田”等道理，通過調節旱澇、循環營養，讓魚、青蛙和其他生物棲息，使農田成為可持續的、健康的生態系統。農田排灌系統和退水濕地也可以吸收大部分的農田溢出的面源污染。

答：這是按高標準農田要求規劃建設的：基本農田區域禁止開挖水塘，以免“浪費土地”，原來的水塘也在早些年被填掉了，因為規劃者相信水泥灌渠可以更高效灌溉、更節約土地；機耕路硬化是用地方努力爭取得來的專項撥款修建的，未來五年，所有機耕路都要進行硬化。

問：光禿禿的田埂上為什么不種美麗的木棉，或者高收益且豐產的菠蘿蜜、木瓜、香蕉、荔枝和龍眼，就像從前的智慧農人一樣？殊不知，農林兼作可以大大提高土地的整體產量，更何況國際糧農組織早就將“糧食”作物的定義擴展到了諸如木薯、板栗等大量的木本植物^[4]？而田野上沒有了樹木和灌叢，鳥、小型哺乳類動物等各種蟲害的天敵便沒有了棲息之所，蟲害將更加猖獗！

答：基本農田禁止種林果，因此田埂上也不準種果樹，更不能種大喬木，因為那會妨礙糧食生產。

答：在海南，玉米屬于水果，不屬于糧食，因此不準在基本農田里種植。甘蔗屬于國家允許種的“糖類”作物，只要埋下種苗，當年即可收獲，兩年不用管理。所以為了不讓土地撂荒，我們就種上甘蔗了事。這些甘蔗地的每畝收益也僅夠工人收割的勞務費——或者干脆請鄉親朋友一起幫忙收割，買一頓酒肉吃光，也算是春天里的一場聚會。

嗚呼！這樣的“基本農田敵托邦”，農民們和鄉鎮干部們苦之久也！

而我所看到的紅線敵托邦遠非基本農田敵托邦一種，其他還有“生態紅線敵托邦”（eco-redline dystopia）、“水源紅線和水安全紅線敵托邦”（water redline dystopia）、“文物保護紅線敵托邦”（heritage protection redline dystopia），等等。它們都有保護和建設美麗城鄉的美好憧憬，但由于不遵循科學規律，缺乏合理而精細的規劃設計，違背市場規律和當事人的權益，以及一刀切的管理機制，最終都使美麗城鄉的烏托邦走向其反面——紅線敵托邦！

 以下為文章英文版本，引用格式見文末 

As a term frequently used in the sector related to the planning and design of national territory and rural-urban areas, “redline” refers to the spatial boundary or bottom line for the protection or supervision of a process or an element of great importance^[1][2], such as capital farmland redline, eco-redline, water redline (i.e., the boundary for water source protection and water safety), and cultural heritage redline (i.e. the boundary for cultural heritage protection). It also refers to the boundaries for certain protection purposes within a specific region, such as the construction boundaries of villages and the protection boundaries of lakes with great values (e.g., the Erhai Lake and the Dian Lake).

For the professionals in the field of national territorial planning, to identify and delimit redlines is the primary step to preserve valuable natural and cultural assets from human interventions, harmonizing human-nature and urban-rural relationships, through approaches of  “negative planning”^[3]. Redline also defines the boundaries of property rights, management duties, and regulation practice, guaranteeing the complicated natural and social systems would run in good order, so do the relevant spatial management and supervision. Yet, this is merely a “utopia” envisioned by the professionals and decision-makers. In reality, the unscientific delimitation of redline and the rigidness in current management and supervision of natural and social resources usually make the implementation outcome runs the opposite to what they wished, leading to “redline dystopias” that are destroying our homelands. After visiting enormous cities, towns, and villages and talking with local officials and farmers across China, I found that capital farmland dystopia is the most “unfathomable” one.

This is not to deny the significance to the delimitation of capital farmland redlines. On the contrary, it is critical to guarantee the production of grain, cotton, oil, and sugar yielding crops, while preventing the land from being used for non-crops or even non-agricultural purposes. Food security is the top priority to a nation like China. However, if such regulations that consider little of the localities were implemented rigidly without any adaptation, they would lead to the horrible capital farmland dystopias.

In a remote valley in Hainan Province, China, there is a small basin called Qicha. She has genuine Li culture, the splendid natural scenery, and the centurial mango forests. The babbling brooks sourcing from the tropical rain forests surround every house. For me, this is a land flowing with milk and honey!

However, I feel disappointed when I had a close look at the farmland, especially after having a conservation with the locals: the capital farmland redline of the village is delimited with ends to the rocky hillsides, which nowadays overlaps with cement roads, cutting apart the organic connections between the village and fields, mountains, forests, lakes, and rivers, and erasing its picturesque charm—the vast rice fields and forests of mulberry and bamboo, dotted by fish ponds with pastoral trails or field ridges with banana, pawpaw, and areca-nut trees. Now, there is nothing but abandoned plots overgrown with weeds, monoculture fields, or lifeless irrigation ditches. Grievingly, such a capital farmland dystopia is ubiquitous throughout the country.

Here is the dialogue between a farmer and me in the field.

Q: Why is such capital farmland left uncultivated? Why don’t you plant rice with such favorable irrigation facilities? And why there is no fish in the water nor other animals or plants? Now this is nothing like what I used to see in the field.

A: First, the uncultivated plots are the capital farmland, where grain crops are only allowed to grow. But rice growing is high in labor-cost while low in profit. Second, economic crops such as perennial vegetables and fruits cannot be grown in the capital farmland, but are allowed for forest land. So most forests in the village are used to grow fruit trees and crops with good profits, such as areca-nuts, pawpaw, jack fruit, passion fruit, and banana; besides cultivating by ourselves, to rent the forest lands would be another good choice—the rent of ordinary farmland, orchard, and forest outnumbers that of the capital farmland! As a result, except for growing a small amount of grain crops for our basic need, we have to abandon the capital farmland. To your third question, since we have to use many fertilizers and herbicides to keep the rice survive that however kill most lives, the fields look so dull.

Q: Why there is no pond or wetland in the fields, and all the irrigation ditches are built with concrete? In the Han Dynasty, our ancestors had acknowledged the importance of ecological irrigation and wisely managed water nutrient circulation between living and production systems, thus to make farmland a sustainable and healthy ecosystem and offer homes for fish, frogs, and other species. Such irrigation systems combined with irrigation return-flow wetlands can also absorb most of the over-flow of non-point source pollution caused by the overuse of fertilizers and herbicides.

A: The irrigation ditches are all built according to the high standards by related requirements. In capital farmland, creating irrigation ponds is forbidden, because the planners believe that concrete ditches are more efficient and land-saving, so we had to fill up the ponds and pools existed on the land for generations. The hardened roads funded by the local government’s allocation are constructed for the traffic needs of farming machines. All such roads will be hardened in the next five years.

Q: In terms of the field ranges, why don’t you grow plants with pleasant landscape effects such as ceiba? The high-profited high-yield jack fruit, pawpaw, banana, litchi, and longan are also choices—just like what our ancestors did. Combination of forestry plants and agricultural crops can boost the total yield of land significantly. Moreover, the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations has already extended crop family towards ligneous plants like cassava and chestnut^[4]. Such diversified cultivation will introduce trees and bushes into farmlands and provide habitats for birds and small mammals that would also help with pest control!

A: As trees for timber or fruits growing in the capital farmland are not allowed—for the reason that large plats would impede crop growth and grain production—we cannot plant any trees on the field ridges, not to mention the high arbor trees.

Q: Then why do you only grow sugarcane in such vast dry farmland, rather than the higher-yield crops like corn? Corn has a long cultivation history in China as a major source of food.

A: Because corn is regarded as fruit here in Hainan, which, again, is not allowed to be grown in the capital farmland. Sugarcane, as a permitted sugar crop, can be harvested in the same year after you plant the seedlings, and need little management input in two years. Although this is a good choice to avoid the land uncultivated, the income from sugarcane can only cover the labor cost of harvest. Sometimes we would ask friends as helpers during the harvest season and to throw a party after it.

Such capital farmland dystopias have been disturbing the farmers and local officials for so long!

Worse, the land of China is suffering from other more dystopias including “eco-redline dystopia,” “water redline dystopia,” and “heritage protection redline dystopia.” All of these dystopias are demonstrating that dogmatic concepts, irrational construction standards, and unscientific and rigid management requirements in urban-rural planning and design that ignore the diverse localities, market rules, and stakeholders’ needs will lead to failures and tragedies, regardless of how beautiful and wonderful the blueprints are envisioned.

編輯 | 田樂

翻譯 | 田樂，王胤瑜，肖杰

制作 | 高雨婷