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(俞孔堅(jiān),《景觀設(shè)計(jì)學(xué)》2022年第6期“主編寄語”)
“紅線”(redline)泛指在國(guó)土空間和城鄉(xiāng)規(guī)劃設(shè)計(jì)領(lǐng)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(hù)或監(jiān)管的邊界線或底線[1][2]——諸如基本農(nóng)田保護(hù)紅線、生態(tài)紅線、水紅線(即水源保護(hù)和水安全的邊界)、文化遺產(chǎn)紅線(即文化遺產(chǎn)保護(hù)的邊界)等。紅線還包括具體地域內(nèi)基于某一保護(hù)目的而劃定的邊界,如村莊的建設(shè)邊界、特定湖泊(如洱海、滇池等)的保護(hù)紅線等。
對(duì)于國(guó)土空間規(guī)劃設(shè)計(jì)師來說,通過劃定紅線來限定無序的發(fā)展和無節(jié)制的人類干擾、保護(hù)重要的自然與文化資產(chǎn)、構(gòu)建美麗城鄉(xiāng),是實(shí)現(xiàn)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(guī)劃”或“逆規(guī)劃”[3]。一旦劃定這樣的紅線,產(chǎn)權(quán)便得以界定,管理職權(quán)便得以劃清,法規(guī)政策便可落地,紛繁的自然與社會(huì)系統(tǒng)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(guī)劃師和管理者們心目中的“烏托邦”而已;現(xiàn)實(shí)世界中,由于紅線的劃定缺乏科學(xué)基礎(chǔ)、規(guī)范缺乏因地制宜的靈活性、管理缺乏實(shí)事求是的能動(dòng)性,這種美麗國(guó)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(guó)首都到最偏遠(yuǎn)的少數(shù)民族鄉(xiāng)村,在踏訪了眾多的城市和村莊、經(jīng)過從與地方官員會(huì)談到和田頭耕作的鄉(xiāng)民聊天之后,我認(rèn)為其中最不可思議的一種紅線敵托邦景象之一是“基本農(nóng)田紅線敵托邦”(capital farmland dystopia)。
糧食安全是一個(gè)國(guó)家的頭等大事,對(duì)中國(guó)尤其如此。給基本農(nóng)田劃定紅線是必須的,把耕地優(yōu)先用于糧食和棉、油、糖等農(nóng)產(chǎn)品生產(chǎn)是理所當(dāng)然的,嚴(yán)防耕地“非農(nóng)化”“非糧化”也是可以理解的。但如果不尊重科學(xué),不實(shí)事求是,機(jī)械地、不加思考地執(zhí)行這些規(guī)定,可怖的基本農(nóng)田紅線敵托邦便會(huì)出現(xiàn)。
在中國(guó)海南省一個(gè)偏遠(yuǎn)的山間盆地里,坐落著一個(gè)名叫“七叉”的小盆地,里面分布著數(shù)個(gè)小村莊。我驚嘆于其濃郁的黎族風(fēng)情、優(yōu)美的風(fēng)景、百年的芒果林,還有從每家每戶門口經(jīng)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(gè)“流奶與蜜之地”!
然而,當(dāng)我審視腳下的土壤,放眼整個(gè)盆地的田濤,并與田頭的鄉(xiāng)民聊天時(shí),我卻失望了。這里,基本農(nóng)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(shè)用地與基本農(nóng)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(jī)聯(lián)系被割裂,本來的畫里鄉(xiāng)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(zhǎng)期撂荒長(zhǎng)滿茅草的田塊。我所期待的田園應(yīng)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(diào)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(nóng)田紅線敵托邦景觀。
以下為我與一位田間耕作的農(nóng)民的對(duì)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(xiāng)民們?yōu)槭裁床辉敢夥N水稻?這水里怎么沒有魚和其他我所期待的在農(nóng)田里能看到的動(dòng)物和植物?
答:這些撂荒的田塊是基本農(nóng)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(nóng)田就不能種植收益更高的經(jīng)濟(jì)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(nóng)田只能種糧食,因此租金遠(yuǎn)不如一般農(nóng)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(qiáng)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(huì)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(diào)節(jié)旱澇、循環(huán)營(yíng)養(yǎng),讓魚、青蛙和其他生物棲息,使農(nóng)田成為可持續(xù)的、健康的生態(tài)系統(tǒng)。農(nóng)田排灌系統(tǒng)和退水濕地也可以吸收大部分的農(nóng)田溢出的面源污染。
答:這是按高標(biāo)準(zhǔn)農(nóng)田要求規(guī)劃建設(shè)的:基本農(nóng)田區(qū)域禁止開挖水塘,以免“浪費(fèi)土地”,原來的水塘也在早些年被填掉了,因?yàn)橐?guī)劃者相信水泥灌渠可以更高效灌溉、更節(jié)約土地;機(jī)耕路硬化是用地方努力爭(zhēng)取得來的專項(xiàng)撥款修建的,未來五年,所有機(jī)耕路都要進(jìn)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(chǎn)的菠蘿蜜、木瓜、香蕉、荔枝和龍眼,就像從前的智慧農(nóng)人一樣?殊不知,農(nóng)林兼作可以大大提高土地的整體產(chǎn)量,更何況國(guó)際糧農(nóng)組織早就將“糧食”作物的定義擴(kuò)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(dòng)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(nóng)田禁止種林果,因此田埂上也不準(zhǔn)種果樹,更不能種大喬木,因?yàn)槟菚?huì)妨礙糧食生產(chǎn)。
問:那廣袤的旱地為什么只種甘蔗而不種更高產(chǎn)的玉米,要知道玉米曾養(yǎng)活了上億中國(guó)人?
答:在海南,玉米屬于水果,不屬于糧食,因此不準(zhǔn)在基本農(nóng)田里種植。甘蔗屬于國(guó)家允許種的“糖類”作物,只要埋下種苗,當(dāng)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(wù)費(fèi)——或者干脆請(qǐng)鄉(xiāng)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(chǎng)聚會(huì)。
嗚呼!這樣的“基本農(nóng)田敵托邦”,農(nóng)民們和鄉(xiāng)鎮(zhèn)干部們苦之久也!
而我所看到的紅線敵托邦遠(yuǎn)非基本農(nóng)田敵托邦一種,其他還有“生態(tài)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(hù)紅線敵托邦”(heritage protection redline dystopia),等等。它們都有保護(hù)和建設(shè)美麗城鄉(xiāng)的美好憧憬,但由于不遵循科學(xué)規(guī)律,缺乏合理而精細(xì)的規(guī)劃設(shè)計(jì),違背市場(chǎng)規(guī)律和當(dāng)事人的權(quán)益,以及一刀切的管理機(jī)制,最終都使美麗城鄉(xiāng)的烏托邦走向其反面——紅線敵托邦!
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.
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.