“英國辛德勒”尼古拉斯·溫頓

2009年9月的一天，一列特殊的火車從布拉格抵達倫敦。時年100歲的尼古拉斯.溫頓爵士在車站等候，車上載的是二戰爆發前夕他從納粹占領下的布拉格救出的猶太兒童。他們如今沿著當年的路線來到倫敦，看望這位賦予他們新生的“溫頓爸爸”。在70年前的1939年，溫頓先后組織八趟列車，幫助669名猶太兒童逃離地獄，來到英國。在塵封半個世紀之后，這段往事才為人所知，為晚年的溫頓帶來巨大的關注。這位低調的“英國版辛德勒”于2015年7月1日溘然長逝，而紀念和銘記他的人，遠遠不止包括當年被救的兒童及其后代在內的6000余人。

“Come on Nicky， you’ve got to come next door.” “I haven’t got to do anything，” says Nicky， in a response that is part humorous， part genuinely truculent2）. There， in a nutshell3）， you have Sir Nicholas Winton， reluctant hero， saviour of 669 mainly Jewish children from Czechoslovakia as Germany tightened its grip4） on the country in 1939， and someone who finds the restrictions of being 105 years of age after an energetic， challenging， implacable5） life more than a little frustrating.

The woman trying to shift him is Babs Armstrong， who has helped him to carry on living as independent a life as possible in the chalet6）-style house near Maidenhead he built for his young family in the 1950s. She wants him to move out of the sitting room and into the kitchen to have his photograph taken. Here， further battles ensue7）. “How many pictures do you want？” he asks of the photographer after a quarter of an hour and several hundred clicks of the camera. “Don’t you have enough by now？”

Winton is a bit deaf， tires easily， and his memory is not what it was. Interviewing him is tricky， but meeting him is thrilling， a touching-the-hem-of-history moment. His life encapsulates8） the 20th century. He was born in London in 1909 into a family of German-Jewish origin， highly cultured and well-connected9）; was educated at Stowe public school in the 1920s， and became a stockbroker. But he was a stockbroker of an unusual stripe， because he was an ardent10） socialist who became close to Labour party luminaries11） Aneurin Bevan， Jennie Lee and Tom Driberg.

In 1938， instead of going to Switzerland for the skiing holiday they had planned， Winton （whose family had just anglicised12） their name from Wertheim） and his close friend and fellow socialist Martin Blake went to Prague instead. Blake wanted to help the hundreds of thousands of refugees who had flooded into the city after Germany’s annexation13） of the Sudetenland14）. But in the end it was Winton who took the leading role， chivvying15） the Home Office into giving entry to eight trainloads of endangered Czech children over the next nine months. A ninth train was due to leave on 1 September， the day Germany invaded Poland and closed the Czech border. The 250 children who would have been on that train died in concentration camps.

It is a powerful story that remained untold for 50 years， until Winton’s late wife Grete gave an old scrapbook with photographs and the names of the escapees to Elisabeth Maxwell， a Holocaust16） researcher and wife of newspaper proprietor Robert Maxwell. The latter got wind of17） it and an article appeared in the Sunday People. That， in turn， led in February 1988 to an episode of That’s Life！18） in which， after thumbing through the old scrapbook， presenter Esther Rantzen suddenly revealed that Winton was in the audience and， sitting on either side of him， were two women who owed their lives to him. As children， they had fled Prague on the Winton trains， with their names on cards around their necks， heading for a new life with foster parents recruited by Winton’s mother in the UK. Cue shock—Winton， who was in his late 70s at the time， was given no warning of what was to unfold and was not best pleased to have been tricked for the purposes of instant television drama—and bucketfuls of tears.

It was the start of a curious coda19） to his life， in which he has been showered with tributes—a knighthood in 2003， a statue at Prague railway station， and， at the end of last month， Czechoslovakia’s highest honour， the Order of the White Lion. He even had a small planet named after him in 1998 by the two Czech astronomers who discovered it， and the map of the part of the solar system in which it is located is on the wall behind his favourite armchair.

He is grand， venerable， wise， universally lauded. But the truth is that though all the attention helps to pass the time， he doesn’t really want to be any of those things. “It gets a bit boring talking about the same thing for a hundred years，” he says when I ask him why he has to be chivvied into describing his role in the evacuation20）. He is keener for his colleagues in the enterprise， Doreen Warriner and Trevor Chadwick， who fended off the attentions of the Gestapo21） in Prague， to get the praise rather than him. “I wasn’t heroic because I was never in danger，” he likes to say of his own role， played out in London after his three-week trip to Czechoslovakia in late 1938. Winton has been dubbed the “British Schindler，” but he resists the analogy， suggesting Warriner and Chadwick， who stayed in Prague throughout the period leading up to the outbreak of war， are more obvious candidates for a Spielberg homage.

Winton puts his lionization22） down to longevity. “None of the others are here any more.” But surely he protests too much. He could have looked the other way23）， as most of Europe did， but he chose to act. “It turned out to be remarkable，” he admits， “but it didn’t seem remarkable when I did it. Some people are born great， some achieve greatness， and some have greatness thrust upon them.” He puts himself very much in the third category. “It’s only because I’ve lived so long that this has happened.”

Why did he do it？ His daughter Barbara Winton puzzles over that question in her recent biography of her father， called If It’s Not Impossible ... Partly， he says， it was because of his family connections. “My family knew what was going on in Germany. We’d had people who were being persecuted staying with us. We had families staying with us. We had refugees staying with us. We were being fed the whole time with what was going on， which was much more than the politicians were.” But it was also because of his socialism. Through Blake he had become part of a leftwing circle that was opposed to appeasement24）， and by 1938 he understood the danger Czech Jews faced. Refugee groups were seeking to get endangered adults out， but no one was helping the children， and he took it upon himself to plug the gap.

Winton met and married the Danish-born Grete Gjelstrup while working for the IBRD25） in Paris in 1948. The marriage marks a watershed in his life. Before， he had been a cosmopolitan26） figure， fluent in English， German and French， travelling widely in Europe， and representing both England and France at fencing. Afterwards， he settled down in Maidenhead， worked in the finance departments of a number of companies， and brought up three children. Everything changed， but he rejects my suggestion that it must have been dull after his wartime experiences. “It didn’t change from my point of view.” But the jobs he did surely weren’t worthy of him？ What did he really want to do？ “I don’t know. I just wanted to make some money， I suppose.” He had rejected City27） life because “the people had quite a different outlook on life to mine，” and now wanted to live simply， earn enough to get by—he insists he has never been wealthy—and raise his family. He should， I suggest， have become a Labour MP， alongside his hero Bevan in that postwar Labour government. He would have been an adornment28）. But his daughter Barbara says he never had any great ambition and lacked confidence. What he did have was anger at injustice and singlemindedness once he set out to right a wrong.

He has never been burdened， says Barbara， by an introspective nature. He just gets on with it and takes life as it comes—probably the secret of reaching 105. Religion has， though， always interested him， and I ask him whether he wonders what comes next， what’s beyond this life. “I don’t think anything comes next. I don’t think there is a next.” Does that bother him？ “It’s no use bothering about something that you can’t affect.”

Winton has come to see religion as organised hypocrisy. “I know crowds of people who go to church and the synagogue29） who aren’t religious. What is needed is something in which they can all believe irrespective of religion， which in most cases， dare I say it， is a facade30）. We need something else， and that something is ethics. Goodness， kindness， love， honesty. If people behaved ethically， no problem.” He has bent the ear of31） his local MP， Theresa May， about this， and says that whenever she sees him she immediately says “Ethics！”

He is pessimistic about the future， anxious about nuclear weapons and our spiralling capacity for destruction. He also doubts that the probing eye of round-the-clock TV news will ensure that the mass delusion and passivity of democracies in the 1930s never recurs. “It needs more than that. It needs a complete reconception of life. Too late for me. ‘Know then thyself， presume not God to scan / The proper study of Mankind is Man.32）’ Whether that works I don’t know. It hasn’t worked so far.”

“來啊，尼基，你必須得到隔壁來。”“沒什么是我必須做的。”尼基答道，他的回答有幽默的成分，也透著真正的刻薄。簡而言之，面前的這位就是尼古拉斯·溫頓爵士。1939年，在德國加緊對捷克斯洛伐克的控制時，他從捷克斯洛伐克救出了669名兒童，其中大部分都是猶太兒童。但他不愿承認自己是英雄。在經歷了精力充沛、充滿挑戰、毫不妥協的生活后，他感到105歲這個年紀帶來的種種束縛令人非常沮喪。

那個試圖讓他挪動位置的女人是芭布絲·阿姆斯特朗，在她的幫助下，溫頓在梅登黑德附近這座瑞士農舍風格的房子里過著盡可能獨立的生活。這座房子是他在20世紀50年代為自己新成立的家庭建造的。阿姆斯特朗想讓他從客廳出來，到廚房去拍照。在廚房里，新一輪較量又開始了。“你想拍多少張照片？”在拍照進行了一刻鐘、相機快門響了數百下之后，他問攝影師，“現在拍的還不夠嗎？”

溫頓有些耳背，容易疲勞，記憶力也不如從前了。采訪他不是件容易事，但見到他還是令人激動的，那是觸摸歷史的一刻。他的人生是20世紀的縮影。1909年，他出生于倫敦一個具有很高文化修養并與上層社會交往廣泛的德裔猶太家庭，在20世紀20年代就讀于斯托公學，后來成為一名股票經紀人。不過，他是個另類的股票經紀人，因為他是忠誠的社會主義者，與工黨的杰出人物安奈林·比萬、珍妮·李和湯姆·德萊伯格來往密切。

1938年，溫頓（他們一家剛剛把姓氏從韋特海姆改為英國化的溫頓）沒有按原先的計劃去瑞士滑雪度假，而是與同為社會主義者的好友馬丁·布萊克一起去了布拉格。布萊克想要幫助在德國吞并蘇臺德地區后涌入布拉格的數十萬難民。但是最后，發揮主導作用的卻是溫頓。在他的一再要求下，英國內政部在接下來的九個月里準許八列火車運送處境危險的捷克兒童入境。第九列火車計劃于9月1日發車，而那一天正是德國入侵波蘭并關閉捷克邊境的日子。本該坐上這趟列車的250名兒童死在了集中營里。

這段震撼人心的往事被塵封了50年之久，直到溫頓的亡妻格蕾特在生前將一本貼有當年逃亡者照片和姓名的舊剪貼簿交給了納粹大屠殺研究者伊麗莎白·馬克斯韋爾。后者是報社老板羅伯特·馬克斯韋爾的妻子。羅伯特獲悉這一消息后，在《星期日人民報》上刊發了一篇文章。而正是由于這篇文章，1988年2月，《這就是生活！》的一期節目中又發生了如下的一幕：主持人埃絲特·蘭森在翻閱了這本舊剪貼簿后，突然宣布溫頓就坐在觀眾席上，而坐在他兩邊的兩位女性正是當年被他救過的難童。她們幼年時搭乘溫頓的火車逃離布拉格，脖子上掛著寫有自己姓名的卡片，跟隨由溫頓的母親在英國招募的養父母開始了新的生活。接下來的是溫頓的驚愕和現場的一片淚海。對于當時年近八旬的溫頓來說，沒有人事先告訴他會發生什么，對于為了在電視上制造出戲劇性的現場效果而將他哄來，溫頓也感到不是很高興。

他的人生由此奏響了奇特的最后樂章，種種贊譽如潮水般涌來：2003年，他被冊封為爵士;布拉格火車站豎立起他的雕像;上個月底（編注：英文原文發表于2014年11月），他獲得了捷克斯洛伐克的最高榮譽白獅勛章。1998年，甚至有兩名捷克天文學家用他的名字命名兩人發現的小行星，而該小行星所在區域的太陽系星圖就掛在他最喜歡的扶手椅后方的墻上。

他大氣、可敬、睿智，廣受世人褒贊。但事實上，雖然所有這些關注可以幫他打發時間，他其實卻不想摻和這些事。“同一件事講上一百年，就變得有點無聊了。”當我問他為什么非得別人一再要求，他才肯講述他在那次撤離行動中所起的作用時，他這樣回答。比起自己，他更希望當年行動中的同事—在布拉格想方設法躲過蓋世太保耳目的多琳·沃里納和特雷弗·查德威克—獲得人們的贊美。“我不是英雄，因為我從未身臨險境。”他喜歡這樣評價自己的作用。在1938年底為期三周的捷克之行后，他的工作都是在倫敦完成的。溫頓被稱為“英國的辛德勒”，但他反對把自己比作辛德勒。他表示在布拉格一直堅守到戰爭爆發前夕的沃里納和查德威克顯然更應該接受斯皮爾伯格（編注：影片《辛德勒的名單》導演）的致敬。

溫頓將如今的榮譽加身歸因于他的長壽。“其他人全都已經不在了。”但他無疑太過謙了。他原本可以像大多數歐洲人那樣裝作沒看見，但他卻選擇了采取行動。“最終的結果很了不起，”他承認，“但當初我做這件事的時候并沒覺得有什么了不起。有的人生而偉大，有的人成就偉大，還有的人硬被說成偉大。”他基本上將自己歸入了第三類。“完全是因為我活得太久了，才會有這些事。”

他當初為什么要那么做？他的女兒芭芭拉·溫頓在最近為父親寫的傳記《如果并非不可能……》中苦苦思索著這個問題。他說，部分原因是他的家庭的交往圈子使然：“我們家知道德國當時發生了什么。有些遭到迫害的人前來投靠我們。我們收留了一些家庭，收留了一些難民。我們一直能得到有關時局的消息，掌握的消息比那些政客多得多。”不過，他的社會主義信仰也是原因之一。經由布萊克介紹，他成了一個反對綏靖政策的左翼小組的成員。到1938年時，他了解到了捷克的猶太人所面臨的危險。難民團體設法救出身處險境的成年人，卻沒有人幫助那些兒童，于是他挺身而出填補了這個空白。

1948年，溫頓在巴黎的國際復興開發銀行工作期間，與出生于丹麥的格蕾特·蓋爾斯楚普相識并結為夫婦。結婚成了他人生的分水嶺。婚前，他是個四海為家的人，能說流利的英語、德語和法語，在歐洲四處旅行，還曾代表英國和法國參加擊劍比賽。婚后，他在梅登黑德安頓下來，先后在幾家公司的財務部門工作過，并養育了三個孩子。一切都變了，但當我暗示說與戰時的經歷相比這種生活肯定很乏味時，他卻否定了我的看法：“在我看來沒什么變化。”但他做那些工作真的是大材小用嗎？他真正想做的是什么？“我不知道。我想，我就是想掙點錢。”他摒棄了倫敦金融區的生活，因為“那些人對生活的看法跟我很不一樣”，他現在只想過簡單的生活，掙足夠的錢維持生計，養家糊口—他堅持說他從來都不是有錢人。我暗示說，他本該在戰后的工黨政府中和他崇拜的比萬一起成為工黨議員，如果那樣就可以為工黨增光。不過他的女兒芭芭拉說，他從來沒有什么大的野心，而且缺乏自信。他真正具有的是對于不公的憤怒以及一旦開始糾正某項錯誤就會一心一意堅持到底的精神。

芭芭拉說，他從未被內省的本性所累。他只是順其自然，隨遇而安—或許這就是他能活到105歲高齡的秘密吧。不過，他一直對宗教有興趣，我問他是否對來生會發生什么以及此生之后是什么感到好奇。“我認為人死后什么也不會發生，我認為沒有來生。”他會為此而煩惱嗎？“對于你無法影響的事，煩惱是沒用的。”

溫頓漸漸將宗教視為有組織的偽善行為。“我認識很多雖然去教堂卻并不虔誠信教的人。他們需要的是一種大家都能夠相信的東西，無論它是什么宗教。我敢說，在大多數情況下，那些宗教只是個幌子。我們需要的是別的東西，那就是道德。善良、仁慈、愛和誠實。如果人們的行為合乎道德，就不會有問題。”關于這一點，他已經不厭其煩地對當地的議員特里薩·梅說過很多次了。據溫頓說，她只要一看見他就會脫口而出：“道德！”

他對未來感到悲觀，對核武器和人類急劇增長的破壞能力感到擔憂。同時，他也不相信全天無休的電視新聞的探查目光可以確保20世紀30年代民主國家中民眾的幻覺和消極態度不會再次產生。“光有這些還不夠，需要徹底地重新思考人生。我已經來不及了。‘認清你自己，不要妄論上帝/人類適宜的研究對象是人。’我不知道這樣做是否行得通，到目前為止還沒有起效。”

6. chalet [???le?] n. （尤指山區、度假營地的）小木屋，小屋;瑞士農舍式房屋

7. ensue [?n?sju?] vi. 接著發生;因而產生

8. encapsulate [?n?k?psj?le?t] vt. 概括，壓縮

9. well-connected：出身名門的;與顯貴人物有關系的，與有影響人士有來往的

10. ardent [?ɑ?（r）d（?）nt] adj. 熱切的;忠誠的

11. luminary [?lu?m?n?ri] n. （在學識、道德或精神等方面有影響的）杰出人物，名人，泰斗

12. anglicise [???ɡl?sa?z] vt.〈主英〉（在語言、風格、習慣等方面）使英國化;使英語化

13. annexation [??nek?se??（?）n] n. 合并;并吞

14. Sudetenland：蘇臺德地區（捷克北部山區）

15. chivvy [?t??vi] vt. 一再要求;不斷催促

16. Holocaust [?h?l??k??st] n. （第二次世界大戰期間納粹對猶太人的）大屠殺

17. get wind of：聽到……的風聲;獲悉有關……的消息

18. That’s Life！：《這就是生活！》，1973～1994年間英國BBC1頻道播出的電視系列節目

19. coda [?k??d?] n. （文學作品或戲劇的）尾聲，結局

20. evacuation [??v?kju?e??（?）n] n. 撤退;轉移

21. Gestapo [ɡ??stɑ?p??] n.〈德〉蓋世太保（納粹德國的國家秘密警察組織）