One way to think of Wang Li is as a Goebbels of China. Mr Wang was a propagandist for Mao Zedong, serving him with the same fierce dedication that Goebbels gave to Hitler. He was a fiery and persuasive orator. In Beijing in August 1967 Mr Wang spoke to a group of Red Guards, an organisation of young communist toughs, urging them, in Mao’s words, “to sweep away old things”. The Red Guards, whose slogan was “Destruction before construction”, set to work with a will. They first turned on the bureaucrats of China’s foreign ministry, taking over the building and wrecking it. They then moved into Beijing’s diplomatic district, terrifying foreign envoys. On August 22nd they set fire to a building in the British embassy compound.
This was in the early days of the cultural revolution, which had started in 1966 and was, by some calculations, to continue until 1969. The cultural revolution was reactionary rather than revolutionary and certainly not cultural. But it was an artful phrase that served to conceal Mao’s struggle to regain absolute power after the failure of the “great leap forward” (1958−60), an ill-thought-out attempt to match the economies of rich countries quickly, which led to widespread famine.
The cultural revolution set back the Chinese economy, which had almost recovered from the “leap forward”, but from Mao’s point of view it was a success. His opponents who had sought to oust him were denounced as “capitalist roaders” and “representatives of the bourgeoisie” in Red Flag, a party newspaper of which Mr Wang was an editor. They were “Khrushchevs” – a reference to the Soviet leader easing his country from Stalinism. The head of state, Liu Shaoqi, was purged as “a lackey of imperialism” and died in prison. Deng Xiaoping, later to become China’s paramount leader, was sent to work in a tractor factory. Many thousands of teachers, writers, scholars, doctors and other workers of the brain were beaten up, lost their jobs and, in some cases, were sent to China’s gulag.
Wang Li was born into a middle-class family and joined the Communist Party in the 1930s, when its forces were fighting the Japanese. Mao seems to have taken to him and he rose rapidly through the ranks, handling various propaganda jobs with aplomb. Mr Wang was an enthusiast for continuing the class struggle that underpinned the cultural revolution. He said later that he had been blamed for Mao’s excesses. But this is one of the penalties of being an enthusiastic acolyte of a monster. Chairman Mao, as he was affectionately known by some foreign visitors, would explain that Comrade Wang had been a bit over-keen, just as Hitler, before the second world war, would publicly chide Goebbels for his vitriol, and Stalin would distance himself from Beria, Russia’s jailer. Mr Wang said that the speech which had set the Red Guards afire had been approved by Mao. No doubt it was, but speeches often get their life from the way they are delivered. The Red Guards, urged on by Mr Wang, speaking for his master, were now on the rampage throughout China, spreading alarm in local communist fiefs, bullying, and sometimes killing, officials who did not knuckle under
and confess to betraying the revolution.
In 1967 in Wuhan, a major industrial town on the Yangtze, the Red Guards had come up against real opposition. The Wuhan party, supported by the local military commander, was prepared to fight it out. A coalition of “conservatives” calling itself the Million Heroes faced a Red Guard troop supported by some factory workers and students. The Red Guard mob were outnumbered. In one street battle, fought mainly with pitchforks and axes, more than 100 people died. Worse, in Mao’s eyes, the involvement of the military commander suggested the re-emergence of warlordism, a nightmare for a new government trying to hold China together. The Red Guards eventually prevailed, with some outside military help and thepersuasion of, among others, Mr Wang (who was briefly held by the Million Heroes and had an arm broken).
Mr Wang returned to Beijing the hero of the hour. Party leaders were at the airport to applaud his victory over the “counter-revolutionaries”. A few weeks later Mr Wang was arrested. He remained in prison for the next 15 years. The party accused him of causing chaos throughout China, which of course he had done: that had been his task. But Mao, frightened by what had happened in Wuhan, cooled towards the Red Guards, and apparently decided to get rid of their promoter.
Mr Wang was never formally accused of a crime. Mao died in 1976, Deng Xiaoping put China on the capitalist road and, in 1982, someone remembered that Mr Wang was still in prison and let him out. From his flat in Beijing Mr Wang sent more than 100 requests to the party seeking rehabilitation. It was never granted. The party prefers to forget the cultural revolution and Mao’s other mistakes. But for such errors China would almost certainly now be richer than it is.