In memory of Jerome A. Cohen (1930-2025): Jerry, as I remember [追念孔傑榮教授（1930–2025）：我記憶中的Jerry]

The passing of Professor Jerry Cohen is a profound loss, not only to the field of Chinese law studies but also to many of us personally. Friends and colleagues have shared numerous tributes, attesting to the significant impact of his life. We remember Jerry—as he preferred to be called—as a community. Now that he has left us, we become the keepers of his memory. And we pass this memory on by telling Jerry’s stories, as he, a storyteller, would have liked us to do.

Working for Jerry at NYU in the previous decade—though he’d always graciously insist it was “working with”—was a great privilege, allowing me to witness an extraordinary man in action. To share those memories, perhaps the Chinese term 喜怒哀樂 (joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness), capturing the most fundamental emotions of life, is a fitting place to begin.

Joy

With his signature bow tie and dignified mustache, Jerry appeared serious and even a bit intimidating at first glance, but once conversations started, you knew he was full of joy, had a great sense of humor, often accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and treated those around him with warmth, kindness and humanity. I believe his secret life recipe was a genuine interest in everyone he met.

Jerry, for example, liked “interrogating”—in his own words—guest speakers at the weekly lunch meetings he hosted at NYU’s US-Asia Law Institute, one of his favorite activities. During those conversations, he would get personal, asking where they were born, what it was like growing up there, why they studied law or China (or both), and what motivated them to pursue their chosen path. Jerry was genuinely curious about the stories of people; each one, he believed, had something unique to tell.

Jerry himself famously loved telling stories (and jokes), and they never failed to fascinate us. It was remarkable how he was able to use a story to illuminate something larger, though he also loved a good story simply for the joy of it. Among his immense repertoire, some were all-time favorites, inevitably summoned more than once or twice. As Jerry knew, we junior colleagues even schemed to create a code system where each joke had a number, so he only needed to call out the number, and we could all laugh without missing a beat!

Anger 

I rarely saw Jerry angered, but when he was, he was fierce.

Whenever Jerry traveled to China, he always made a point of visiting Chinese human rights lawyers, despite the obstacles. In 2010, Jerry went to see the Shanghai human rights lawyer Zheng Enchong, who had been under house arrest for years (he had tried visiting him previously but was stopped by the police). As Jerry and I approached lawyer Zheng’s apartment, we were, unsurprisingly, blocked by several plainclothes police officers in the courtyard. Jerry kept asking what legal basis they had to prevent us from seeing a supposedly free Chinese citizen. As the argument escalated, Jerry grew increasingly outraged. He did not back down. He was determined to see lawyer Zheng this time. After intense negotiation, we agreed to come back the next day, finally getting to see Zheng and his family. The police likely did not want to contend any longer with Jerry’s wrath.

Sorrow 

As Jerry wrote in his memoirs, he was born in 1930 into a middle-class Jewish family in New Jersey. Both his father and mother came from immigrant families from Europe. Jerry lost several relatives in the Holocaust during WWII. Even after the war, Jewish people in America continued to face various forms of discrimination.

In one group meeting where a Chinese anti-discrimination advocate was invited to speak, Jerry introduced the speaker and emphasized the importance of this topic. He began to relate it to his family’s experience. In the middle of a sentence, he suddenly stopped talking, and the room fell silent—for the first time, we saw Jerry cry, overwhelmed by emotion. I often wondered if this personal experience had played a significant role in motivating his work on human rights, rooted in his deep compassion.

Happiness 

Nothing brought Jerry more happiness than knowing he helped others. He did this with great satisfaction and a sense of purpose. When Jerry was asked what he was most proud of in his long career, instead of mentioning his groundbreaking scholarship in Chinese law or his pioneering role as the first foreign practicing lawyer in China, he spoke about helping people and, at critical moments in history, intervening to save some of them from dire circumstances.

Many colleagues have recounted how Jerry literally changed their lives (mine included). He would bring people to the field, make introductions for them, find scholarships, provide references, and help them secure positions where they could contribute. He saw great potential in people, even for those of us who could not see it ourselves.

Jerry’s happiness came from the community he built, a community inspired and uplifted by his supportive hand. He liked the phrase, “He who acts through another, acts himself.” This is very true. As Don Clarke said, Jerry “lives on in a very real way in the people and institutions he fostered over the years.”

In one of the early meetings, I asked Jerry what I should do with my life. He said, “Do something that interests you, something you can take responsibility for, and, most importantly, something meaningful.” He led by example—again and again, in countless ways—through his extraordinary life.

追念孔傑榮教授（Jerome A. Cohen, 1930–2025）：我記憶中的Jerry

2025年9月22日，孔傑榮教授在家人的陪伴中安息，享壽九十五歲。他的離世，對中國法研究社群而言，意味著一個時代的結束：六〇年代，在「紅色中國」法律研究乏人問津的年代，他開始學習中文，投身其中；在尚無法進入中國時，他在香港訪談來自中國的難民，那樣的研究方法在當時幾乎前所未見；在中國改革開放之初，他成為第一位在中國執業的外國律師，教導中國官員了解遵循法律規範；他一生推動人權法治，不僅透過筆墨，也付諸行動，在歷史的關鍵時刻，親身營救政治犯。

孔教授希望大家直呼他Jerry——“call me Jerry”，他常帶著笑意、親切地對人這麼說。對我們許多人而言，仍然難以接受他已經離開。如今，我們承載著他的記憶，繼續說著他的故事，就像他老愛說故事那樣，我們用故事來紀念他。

從2008年到博士畢業，我在紐約大學為Jerry工作（雖然他會更正我，說那應該是一起「共事」），能夠近距離觀察一個不平凡的人生，是難得的幸運。回憶太多，難以一一言說，若要追憶些許片段，或許就從最簡單「喜怒哀樂」慢慢開始吧。

喜

Jerry總戴著標誌性的蝴蝶領結，再配上莊嚴的鬍子，初見時，不免有點距離感。然而交談片刻之後，你會驚訝於那份反差：他和藹可親，眼神閃爍著黠慧的光芒，總是幽默，甚至帶著一點淘氣的童心。Jerry有著一種最樸實的人道精神，平等地對待每一個人，不論背景、職業或立場，他對人們充滿真誠的興趣、溫暖的關懷。

他最喜歡的事之一，是在紐約大學亞美法研究所主持午餐會，與受邀講者對談——他開玩笑說那是「審問」，但其實是一種真誠的探詢：你在哪裡出生？在哪裡長大？為什麼讀法律或從事中國研究？又是什麼驅使你選擇這條道路？對Jerry來說，每個人的故事都獨一無二，值得聆聽。

Jerry自己就是說書人，故事總說不完。他喜歡說故事，他可以用一個簡單的故事，不著痕跡地說著深刻的道理；但他也不總是講大道理，有時候，他只是單純享受一個好故事本身帶來的喜悅。

他的故事，還有那些笑話，百聽不厭，有幾個是他的口袋名單中的最愛。久而久之，我們這些年輕同事跟Jerry打趣說，要替他的故事和笑話編碼，這樣他只要報出號碼，我們就能立刻心領神會地大笑，省去他說話的時間（我們的餿主意把Jerry逗笑了）。

怒

我極少見Jerry發怒，但當他真的生氣時，你無法忽視。

他每次到中國，總不忘探訪人權律師，即便困難重重——又或者應該說，正是因為困難重重，所以更有必要見面。

2010年，他堅持去探望長期遭軟禁的上海律師鄭恩寵（他幾年前試過，但被警察阻擋）。當我們走到鄭律師的公寓前，果不其然被幾名便衣攔住，不許我們再前進。Jerry一遍遍質問：「憑什麼阻止我們見一位自由的中國公民？你們的法律依據在哪裡？」隨著爭執越來越激烈，他的憤怒清楚地寫在臉上。在漫長交涉後，對方退讓，我們才得以隔日再訪，見到鄭律師和他的家人。

這世界上有一些重要的事，值得動怒。

哀

Jerry在他的回憶錄裡提到，1930年他出生於新澤西州，父母皆是來自歐洲的猶太移民家庭。二戰期間，納粹對猶太人的大屠殺讓他們痛失許多親戚。即使戰後，猶太人在美國依舊面臨各種歧視，Jerry是在這樣的環境長大。

有一次，在紐約大學的一場座談中，邀來一位中國的反歧視倡議者。Jerry開場介紹講者，強調這個議題的重要性，談到了過去這段家族經歷。話說到一半，他突然停住，會議室安靜無聲。那是我們第一次看見Jerry哽咽，眼淚帶著情感的重量滑落不止。我在想，也許正是這樣的背景，使他在人權工作上，總是懷著深刻的同理。

樂

Jerry的快樂，莫過於知道自己幫助了別人。那份快樂裡，帶著一份使命感以及無盡的滿足。

有人問他，在他超過一甲子的職涯中，什麼最讓他自豪。他沒有提起自己在西方開創中國法研究先河的學術成就，也沒有談起作為第一位在中國執業的外國律師的地位。他說起的是「人」，是那些他能拉別人一把的時刻。

許多學界同事說，Jerry改變了他們的人生，我自己也是其中之一。這並不是誇飾，他用每一天來做這件事，無論有多忙，他總是有時間給他人，他的慷慨沒有上限。Jerry鼓勵年輕學子對這個世界做出自己的貢獻，為此，他親自領路、四處引介，幫助他們找到能發揮所長的位置。Jerry在我們身上看見的，是我們自己都不見得知道的潛能。

Jerry也是一位建造者，每到一處，他就築起制度與機構，匯集研究教學的能量和資源。六〇年代，他在哈佛創立了東亞法律中心，在香港，他設立大學服務中心，到了紐約大學，他又創建亞美法研究所，這些機構是研究的入口，是連結的橋樑，是交流的平台，讓一代又一代的學者因此受惠。

Jerry的快樂來自他親手栽培的社群。他很喜歡一句話：「當一個人透過他人而行，他自己就參與其中。」（“He who acts through another, acts himself.”）這話印證了他的生命。正如郭丹青（Donald Clarke）所說，Jerry仍然「真實地活在他所培養的人與機構之中」。

記得初識時，我曾問他：「我這一生該做什麼？」他回答：「去做你真正感興趣的事，是你能負起責任的事，最重要的，是有意義的事。」

Jerry以自己的人生，不斷、不斷地告訴我們，這句話該如何實踐。