俞孔坚：红线敌托邦，在七叉与一位农民的对话

注：原中英文全文刊发于《景观设计学》（Landscape Architecture Frontiers）2022年第6期。获取全文免费下载链接请点击https://journal.hep.com.cn/laf/EN/10.15302/J-LAF-1-010028；参考引用格式见文末。

红线敌托邦：在七叉与一位农民的对话

Redline Dystopias：A Dialogue With a Farmer in Qicha

俞孔坚

北京大学建筑与景观设计学院

“红线”（redline）泛指在国土空间和城乡规划设计领域，为了表示某种过程或要素的重要性而在空间上划定的保护或监管的边界线或底线^[1][2]——诸如基本农田保护红线、生态红线、水红线（即水源保护和水安全的边界）、文化遗产红线（即文化遗产保护的边界）等。红线还包括具体地域内基于某一保护目的而划定的边界，如村庄的建设边界、特定湖泊（如洱海、滇池等）的保护红线等。

对于国土空间规划设计师来说，通过划定红线来限定无序的发展和无节制的人类干扰、保护重要的自然与文化资产、构建美丽城乡，是实现人与自然和谐共生图景的第一步，也是必由之路，我把它称为“反规划”或“逆规划”^[3]。一旦划定这样的红线，产权便得以界定，管理职权便得以划清，法规政策便可落地，纷繁的自然与社会系统便可有条不紊，空间管控秩序因此得以建立。但殊不知，这只是规划师和管理者们心目中的“乌托邦”而已；现实世界中，由于红线的划定缺乏科学基础、规范缺乏因地制宜的灵活性、管理缺乏实事求是的能动性，这种美丽国土乌托邦愿景却走向了其反面——破坏我们家园的“敌托邦”景观，我称之为“红线敌托邦”（redline dystopia）。从祖国首都到最偏远的少数民族乡村，在踏访了众多的城市和村庄、经过从与地方官员会谈到和田头耕作的乡民聊天之后，我认为其中最不可思议的红线敌托邦景象之一是“基本农田红线敌托邦”（capital farmland dystopia）。

粮食安全是一个国家的头等大事，对中国尤其如此。给基本农田划定红线是必须的，把耕地优先用于粮食和棉、油、糖等农产品生产是理所当然的，严防耕地“非农化”“非粮化”也是可以理解的。但如果不尊重科学，不实事求是，机械地、不加思考地执行这些规定，可怖的基本农田红线敌托邦便会出现。

在中国海南省一个偏远的山间盆地里，坐落着一个名叫“七叉”的小盆地，里面分布着数个小村庄。我惊叹于其浓郁的黎族风情、优美的风景、百年的芒果林，还有从每家每户门口经过的潺潺流水——那是来自热带雨林的山泉水。在我眼中，这是一个“流奶与蜜之地”！

然而，当我审视脚下的土壤，放眼整个盆地的田涛，并与田头的乡民聊天时，我却失望了。这里，基本农田的红线被一直划到乱石山坡上，村子被一圈水泥路所围合——作为村庄建设用地与基本农田的边界，红线成了“铜墙铁壁”！往昔村庄与田野、与山林、与水的有机联系被割裂，本来的画里乡村全然没有了美丽；盆地里本该是绵延的稻田，我却看到了许多被长期撂荒长满茅草的田块。我所期待的田园应该有“鱼塘桑竹”，田间是林荫小径，田埂上更是香蕉、木瓜、槟榔之类，而非如此单调的田野和光秃秃的水泥灌渠。这是一种典型的泛滥于大江南北的基本农田红线敌托邦景观。

美丽的海南昌江黎族自治县七叉盆地，“基本农田敌托邦”景观正在蔓延，尤恐桃花源消失在乡村振兴的黎明之前。

© 俞孔坚

以下为我与一位田间耕作的农民的对话。

问：在这么肥沃的盆地里，为什么有这么多的地块被撂荒？这么好的灌溉条件，乡民们为什么不愿意种水稻？这水里怎么没有鱼和其他我所期待的在农田里能看到的动物和植物？

答：这些撂荒的田块是基本农田，只允许种水稻等粮食作物，而水稻的劳作成本太高，每亩收益不如付出。土地一旦被划定为基本农田就不能种植收益更高的经济作物，包括多年生的蔬菜和水果。一般林地可以用来种植槟榔、木瓜、菠萝蜜、百香果、香蕉等高收益的作物和果树，所以每亩土地租金可以到几千元，而基本农田只能种粮食，因此租金远不如一般农田、园地和林地。所以我们除了满足自己食用以外，不如撂荒了事。即便勉强种上了水稻，也必须靠大量使用化肥和除草剂来维持。所以除了稻苗，哪还会有别的生命！

问：为什么绵延的田里没有水塘和湿地，灌渠都是水泥浇筑？早在汉代，我们的先民就知道“四顷田必开一顷塘”“四水归明堂”“肥水不流外人田”等道理，通过调节旱涝、循环营养，让鱼、青蛙和其他生物栖息，使农田成为可持续的、健康的生态系统。农田排灌系统和退水湿地也可以吸收大部分的农田溢出的面源污染。

答：这是按高标准农田要求规划建设的：基本农田区域禁止开挖水塘，以免“浪费土地”，原来的水塘也在早些年被填掉了，因为规划者相信水泥灌渠可以更高效灌溉、更节约土地；机耕路硬化是用地方努力争取得来的专项拨款修建的，未来五年，所有机耕路都要进行硬化。

问：光秃秃的田埂上为什么不种美丽的木棉，或者高收益且丰产的菠萝蜜、木瓜、香蕉、荔枝和龙眼，就像从前的智慧农人一样？殊不知，农林兼作可以大大提高土地的整体产量，更何况国际粮农组织早就将“粮食”作物的定义扩展到了诸如木薯、板栗等大量的木本植物^[4]？而田野上没有了树木和灌丛，鸟、小型哺乳类动物等各种虫害的天敌便没有了栖息之所，虫害将更加猖獗！

答：基本农田禁止种林果，因此田埂上也不准种果树，更不能种大乔木，因为那会妨碍粮食生产。

答：在海南，玉米属于水果，不属于粮食，因此不准在基本农田里种植。甘蔗属于国家允许种的“糖类”作物，只要埋下种苗，当年即可收获，两年不用管理。所以为了不让土地撂荒，我们就种上甘蔗了事。这些甘蔗地的每亩收益也仅够工人收割的劳务费——或者干脆请乡亲朋友一起帮忙收割，买一顿酒肉吃光，也算是春天里的一场聚会。

呜呼！这样的“基本农田敌托邦”，农民们和乡镇干部们苦之久也！

而我所看到的红线敌托邦远非基本农田敌托邦一种，其他还有“生态红线敌托邦”（eco-redline dystopia）、“水源红线和水安全红线敌托邦”（water redline dystopia）、“文物保护红线敌托邦”（heritage protection redline dystopia），等等。它们都有保护和建设美丽城乡的美好憧憬，但由于不遵循科学规律，缺乏合理而精细的规划设计，违背市场规律和当事人的权益，以及一刀切的管理机制，最终都使美丽城乡的乌托邦走向其反面——红线敌托邦！

 以下为文章英文版本，引用格式见文末 

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.

编辑 | 田乐

翻译 | 田乐，王胤瑜，肖杰

制作 | 高雨婷