6 STICKING MY NECK OUT

My good time did not last long.

I enjoyed myself until the end of the summer in 1967.

At this time of the Revolution, Beida's young revolutionaries, joined by some middle-aged and old ones, divided into a few factions. As it follows the law of nature, a true statement from Three Kingdoms goes like this, "The law of alternation between unity and separation prevails in the evolution of human existence."[1] Now it was time for separation.

During a short period of time before the breakup, the university was united and there was only one grass-roots revolutionary organization, called "New Beida Commune." One of the leaders of this organization was the notorious "Old Dowager," one of the authors of the so-called "first Marxist-Leninist big-character poster." It was said that this person was a capitalist roader of "Sanba Type," conventionally considered as a revolutionary veteran.[2] But she did not behave well after being assigned to work at Beida. An old lady, she dressed up bewitchingly. She first worked as deputy head of the Department of Economics and was then transferred to the Department of Philosophy, where she worked as Party general secretary. With a stroke of luck, she became the center of attention overnight and stood a chance of rising in power, just thanks to her signing on the first Marxist-Leninist big-character poster, endorsed by some higher-ups in the central government and the Party, and her contribution as an informer. I met this woman a couple of times and knew quite well she was worthless, dumb, cunning, bull-headed and vain. She would make a mess and ridicule herself each time she delivered a speech. Hence during her speech each time, the heart of her faithful followers was in their mouth until it was over. It was weird that a person of this kind found her way up the University's hierarchy of Party and administration, unscrupulous as she was in riding roughshod over others.

It is universally true in history that oppression leads to rebellion. Gradually some students could not tolerate her domineering, and a bunch of big and small organizations came into being parallel to the "New Beida Commune" as the Revolution proceeded. These organizations defined themselves as the combat brigade and almost all named themselves after the phrases from Mao Zedong's poetry, things like the "Grey-Dragon-Catching Brigade," the "Ninth Heaven Moon-Clasping Brigade" and "Over-Leaping Brigade."[3] The poetry was exhausted of its phrases for the naming and the newly established brigades found themselves lacking an appropriate name. The brigades varied in size considerably, big ones each having tens or hundreds of people and small ones with any number between more than a dozen and less than half of it. It was said that there were even some single-person brigades, each of which contained just one person. The paper work for registering such a brigade was exceptionally simple, just putting out a big-character poster, scribbling a few words on it like "The east wind raging and the beat of drums roaring, let us go to the war and see who wins and who loses," and then yelling a couple of slogans, "Long live so-and-so." That was done. There was no such thing as registration and approval by a higher-level administration, nor did any person ever come to check on the legal proceedings. It defied any tallying how many combat brigades had eventually been set up at that time. Even if Mr. Hu Shih had risen from his tomb, he would probably have found himself oafish, given all his erudite research capabilities.[4]

Meanwhile the big-character posters mushroomed. The walls and mat-covered makeshift bulletin boards were long in shortage. So another large group of mat-covered makeshift bulletin boards were erected for use. In addition to most big-character posters announcing the establishment of the new combat brigades, some writings denounced capitalist academic authorities. Some of the big-character posters ran on about four or five pieces of paper; others expanded to nine or ten pieces and even to a hundred, with the tendency of getting longer and longer. Some nearby residents made a living by collecting and selling the paper. It was said that some students practiced calligraphy in writing big-character posters. On the basis of my observation, the handwriting on the big-character posters, unquestionably, improved drastically, as time went on. It is a by-product of the Cultural Revolution, which many have probably failed to take into account in assessment.

Taking advantage of the big-character posters, combat brigades emerged one after another in various splendid forms. After the initial contention for individual identity, they started to merge with each other. Their numbers grew and then settled down to two big factions: the original, formally authorized "New Beida Commune" and its antagonistic conglomerated "Jinggangshan." The first ran like the majority party and the second like the minority party, just like the Conservative Party and Labor Party in Great Britain. Between the two factions, power struggle was inevitable and, in most cases, was reflected in the form of the big-character poster. I am not well-informed about the politics of the two parties in Great Britain. But it is said that they generally stick to the rule of "fair play." In China, fair play, that foreign stuff, was primarily ignored. In this country, the ends were pursued with no consideration of means. It was quite common to hurt others with rumor, slander and personal attack. This practice gave rise to a new "material" called "faction strife." As soon as this new thing was produced, its force immediately took on an epidemic dimension. Anyone who picked up this bug would become hostile to those holding a different political stand; friends became foes and a family ended up in a divorce. I was absolutely perplexed. Why didn't people show such hostility in resistance to foreign invasion? Someone even put up a big-character poster claiming, "I'll devote my whole life to the defense of Nie and Sun and never regret!"[5] What an extraordinary resolution! If they had made such considerable effort in realizing the four modernizations, China would have become the large industrial dragon in Asia to stun the "Four Little Dragons."

Many years have passed. How are these two major factions evaluated? At that time when the factional strife rampaged, it was impossible to make an objective assessment. I think such work can be done now. The two factions are basically made up of young faculty members and students. For various reasons, the elderly were not very interested in joining in these organizations. Naturally each faction had its own platform, but I don't think any of them was very clear about what its platform meant. In terms of their political tendency, they all followed the line of fundamental "leftism," to the same extent, by committing crimes of beating, smashing, looting and home raiding. Sometimes when a professor, or an administrative official, was falsely charged with misconduct, each of the two factions would subject the person to criticism and torture. In the meantime the way the torture sessions were conducted was exactly the same. It seemed that the people of both factions suffered from the same acute mania of persecution and brutality. As the condemned person got bruises and cuts, head blooding, the people from either faction just found lots of pleasure in watching, chatting and laughing. The tool for torture also showed the persecutor's originality, the bike chain wrapped up with a piece of rubber. It had the effect of imposing severe pain but causing no bleeding during the beating and leaving no evidence for accusation. To intimidate others that "Old Dowager" often brandished her legitimate power in terms of her connections with Jiang Qing, to terrify her opponents. "Jinggangshan" displayed no submissiveness and claimed its access to Jiang Qing, too. However, neither of the two factions was able to justify its claim with evidence that it was Jiang Qing's closest follower. Indeed, they were quite different in one way: the "New Beida Commune" was in power at Beida and swaggered around; "Jinggangshan," in contrast, was always oppressed, which usually resulted in ordinary people's sympathy.

From my observations, the two factions rivaled for power, since their respective platforms were just six of one and half a dozen of the other. "Have the power and then have everything," an aphorism that both truly believed. To grab the power and rule the university, the opposing faction must be crushed. Accordingly, they both painstakingly solicited and persuaded faculty and staff members to win them over to their respective sides and enlarge their ranks. At this time, each side controlled parts of the property with the "New Beida Commune" possessing the lion's share of the campus, "All lands under the Heaven are in the reign of the king."[6] "Jinggangshan" took only a few student dormitory buildings in the residential area. Each building was gradually turned into a fort and heavily guarded. Later each faction developed some hand-made weapons. Financially better off, the power-holding "New Beida Commune" made a spear out of the costly steel tube by cutting off one end and sharpening it to a point. This weapon was rather primitive, but it was quite a threat to those empty-handed fighters from "Jinggangshan." Not content with its inferior equipment, "Jinggangshan" scraped together some weapons for use, too. It was said that each side had some people working on the production of bombs. The hostility eventually led to a few skirmishes, and one high school student, an outsider happening to come on campus one day, was speared to death by the "New Beida Commune" members.

It was a war of life and death. But it was periodically peppered with amusing occurrences. The backbone of the battling forces from both sides was the young students; they were green and frivolous. For example, one day the two factions held a debate session in the main student cafeteria. During the heated and tense debate, emotion ran high on both sides and supporters chanted slogans for their respective sides. Suddenly a bunch of worn-out shoes, strung through with the rope, were lowered down from the ceiling of the cafeteria. The meaning of "the worn-out shoe" was very clear to the Chinese, particularly to people from northern China.[7] … In such a tense atmosphere, each side focused on how to rout the other in deep hatred, when the unexpected appearance of the shoes at once caught the attention of all present. The first reaction from the crowds was surprise, which was quickly followed by a burst of laughter. But how could a serious debate be carried on? Later on strings of worn-out shoes also dangled out of the windows of a student dorm occupied by "Jinggangshan." The intention was the same. Were these events not entertaining interludes?

I attended another debate session in the cafeteria. The leaders of the two sides were seated on the platform, and their supporters took seat in the audience. The titles of these leaders were changed. They were called "orderly" (probably only used by "Jinggangshan") instead of the dean or department head. The change felt as fundamentally revolutionary as the French Revolution, during which the leaders were addressed as ordinary people. Among the leaders of "Jinggangshan" sitting on the platform was an old man who was a famous scholar on fluid dynamics and relativity and a man of integrity. He enjoyed widespread respect from faculty members and students and was one of a few scholars who the Central Party Committee specified for protecting from harassment in the Cultural Revolution. I have no idea how he joined the unofficial faction organization. Later I picked up scraps of information that he was discontented with the behavior of the "Old Dowager" and became gradually sympathetic with the "Jinggangshan." Then, the "New Beida Commune" sent its members to harass him; some pestered him at home; some taunted and intimidated him by phone. The old man was rather disturbed. Originally he did not intend to join "Jinggangshan." Forced into a corner now, he resolved to throw his lot together with that of the organization. At once, he was elected one of the general "orderlies" of the "Jinggangshan." Now participating in the debate in the main student cafeteria, he was the oldest among those sitting around him on the platform. The cafeteria was packed to capacity with people of both sides present. The topics ranged over many issues, and the speeches filled with nothing but boasts about one's own side and taunts against the other, quite reminiscent to me of the face-to-face presidential debates televised live in the United States. A climax usually occurred when the crowds applauded and cheered at witty remarks uttered by speakers. Then the sword drawn and bows bent hostility mixed with boisterous conviviality, a rowdy scene rocking the student cafeteria.

Meanwhile the whole university was hardly different either (as well as the whole country). That well-known saying, "the right way to disorient the enemy," was simply out of whack. Who knew who was the enemy? At that time, the country as a whole underwent a reshaping of factional organizations, dividing and merging, before two large antagonistic factions were formed in each area. In Beijing the two factions were called the "Sky Party" and the "Earth Party." Each party considered itself revolutionary and the opposing party as the enemy. The PLA teams were sent to colleges and universities in support of the "left" factions but found it hard to distinguish the "left" from the right. Eventually the military men, in some local places, took sides too. Actually, the revolutionaries deranged themselves. If there had been some real enemies, they would have stood by in silence, clapping and cheering in secret.

How did I fare at this moment?

Well, I appreciated my hard gained opportunity for passing myself off as one of the people. Therefore I decided never to join any factional group. To be a man of non-affiliation was my only choice but also a rather broad road to take. In the chaos of the university, taking this road would allow me to be free of concern and anxiety and live in a place of quiet like Utopia. As "classes were suspended for making revolution," I had no teaching responsibilities, nor did I need to write for publication. Once in a while when I was in good mood I would venture out and explore the big-character posters and attend the sessions of debate. I was carefree and enjoyed myself, like a living immortal. I couldn't help smiling, occasionally, at the thought.

However, there was neither Utopia in the world, nor at Beida. I was rocked by the occurrences that took place every day around me. I had feeling and emotion and could scarcely remain numb. I had to respond. At Beida, I had been department head for twenty years and worked as president of the Trade Union of the University and held a few important social positions in the past, including those as the member of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference and representative of the Reople's Congress of Beijing. One old saying goes like this, "A tall tree catches the wind." I was not a very tall tree but certainly tall enough to catch some wind. Besides, I have some unique personal features. It is the sense of justice, if put in good terms. To view its flip side, it is my inborn obstinacy. Even if Beida had had a sanctuary could I have been able to get inside? I was destined to weather storms.

What should I do if I did not seek the sanctuary? Gradually, I discovered that the woman leader of the "New Beida Commune" was disgusting. What she did contradicted the revolutionary line discussed previously. What was the revolutionary line? I didn't quite understand it. I had attended the political study more than ten years, listening to those discussions every day. Bit by bit, I slowly shook off my slow-wittedness and understood that good work could not be completed unless there was a close relationship with the masses. I believed the way a leader responds to criticisms of the people was a fundamental rubric for evaluating his conduct and an important standard for judging whether or not he carried out the supremely upheld revolutionary line. In this regard I thought, in my personal view, that the woman veered off the correct course. She was an empress leading the "New Beida Commune," which was in power at the university. At this point, the university's "Revolutionary Committee" was established on the instructions of the higher authorities. "The Revolutionary Committee is good," the quotation, from the supreme leader, immediately resounded through the country after it was issued. Certainly Beida would not content itself with being left behind so that woman "legitimately" became the chieftain of the new power, director of the Revolutionary Committee of Peking University. What good luck she had! It only puffed her up with arrogance, who was, from top to toe, a loafer with a low Intelligence Quotient and nothing useful to brag about except cunning gimmicks; then she grew more arrogant and bossy, flattered by her subordinates. A slight discontent toward her would surely ensure severe penalties in terms of removal from office, salary suspension and a stab in the back, occurrences settling into daily rituals. A harsher treatment would be the declaration of "down with so-and-so" immediately turning one into the enemy and subjecting him to death at will. She was, indeed, responsible for a few persons' lives, such as the high school student who was killed with the spear by the people of the "New Beida Commune," whom I talked about previously. Her behavior toward common people enraged me, so I believed she acted against the revolutionary line. I just could not sit tight on a fishing boat when the wind was rising and waves were surging.

But I knew of this woman chieftain quite well. A bonehead, she was wicked, treacherous and cruel. I would rather avoid confronting her directly. Therefore, I had to be low profiled, straddling the issue of faction as a fence sitter.

Meanwhile, a few events call for attention at this point. First, a rally was held in front of the Indonesian Embassy to China in Beijing, probably to retaliate the incident of setting fire to the Chinese Embassy to Indonesia in Djakarta. It was a widely acclaimed patriotic action. Neither of the two factions of Beida would like to miss this opportunity to assert influence and win more masses unto their sides. They sent all their members on the trip to the rally. Lined along the avenue leading to the south gate were tens of rented trucks awaiting the rally participants from both factions. As people walked to the trucks of their respective sides, I had problem deciding on which side's truck I should board. Seeing me hesitating, a few major leaders from both sides rushed over and courteously tried to talk me into getting onto their trucks. One woman, on the side of "Jinggangshan," was from the Department of Eastern Languages. She was particularly solicitous in doing so. Frankly, I wanted to go with them. But I was a little worried and did not want to run risks. The "New Beida Commune" was no less eager to bring me onto its bandwagon. After quite a while of hesitation over the choices, I got on the Commune's truck. It was a boisterous ride with the flags flying on the truck. Over there in front of the Indonesian Embassy, we chanted slogans before riding through the city back home, everyone in high spirits.

Another event is the trip to the home of a high-ranking PLA officer to "make revolution" or "single him out for condemnation." He lived somewhere in the area of Yuquanshan.[8] I forgot the reason why we should go to his place and harass him. But it was quite ordinary at that time that any combat brigade, backed up by a certain ranking official, had the legitimate right to do away politically with whoever it wanted to. I was not sure of his exact address. Since it was a short trip, no truck was needed, so the majority of us walked there. I was one of "the bike class" people and so I rode my bike. This time I did not have the predicament of identifying with any faction as I did on the previous trip to the Indonesian Embassy. No people vied with one another for pulling me over onto their side. As an independent party, I merged into the stream of bicyclists, not knowing which faction they were from. As we rode past Qinglongqiao, I saw some people riding toward the Western Hills.[9] Then I followed them all the way to the Wan'an Cemetery on the other side of Yuquanshan. Knowing I was lost, I turned around and got back to Qinglongqiao. Then I heard some people talking loudly that "the revolution was done." So I followed the group back to the university. Even at this point, I had no idea where that high-ranking PLA officer lived and what his gate looked like. I think this is the way that the revolution was "made" at that time.

Another important happening deserves mention. The two factions of Beida both ran faculty and staff study programs in order to rope in members for their respective ranks. Some university officials, who were denounced and tortured as capitalist roaders, were now, for some undeclared reasons, left alone and free of condemnation. They became targets of being won over by the two factions. I was one of them. Many faculty members of the Department of Eastern Languages encouraged me to join in their study program. "Jinggangshan" tried to talk me into going with it, while its opposing side did the same. After a long time of observation and hesitation, I thought I should take a cautious step. If I made my debut in the study program run by "Jinggangshan," my life would be at stake. Obviously the "New Beida Commune" reigned and swayed the university with its overwhelming strength of membership as well as that narrow-minded partisan leader. If I offended them, I could no doubt incur unimaginable retaliations upon me. I pondered long before making the final decision of attending the program of the "New Beida Commune," for the sake of my security. On the surface, the two sides did not differ from each other in achieving their objectives, both declaring their loyalty to the great leader, and his wife in particular. Their unchecked demonstration of loyalty to the latter was inconceivable in one sense that innumerable big-character posters were put up, showering her with flatteries as if she were the Virgin Mary incarnate. I was politically crack-brained and therefore credulous whole-heartedly. Though later I overheard some speculations against her, I didn't change my views.

With the lapse of time I could not keep the lid on my thought any longer thanks to my inborn candidness. I had to speak out and then I would feel relieved. My frank avowal of perception toward the two sides would soon land me in a quagmire. Followers of each faction, particularly students, took turns in coming and persuading me into joining them. Students from the "New Beida Commune" came to my home and office. How could I maintain my office by then? But I remember, though I'm not quite sure, I did meet them in my office. I may bring back the memory of it later on. They made their requirement clearly to me by saying, "You can't join Jing's side," meaning "Jinggangshan." Obviously, it was a courteous expression. A direct and rude utterance would be a warning like this, "Watch your head!" At the same time, someone called me at home, talking and admonishing me; some used polite and complementary words, while others gave me stern rebukes. Such talks came in various ways and steadily. Now I found myself in the same circumstance as that of the professor I talked about before. I could not sit tight any more. But, obstinate as I was, the more you press on me, the more I won't go for it. After turning it over and over in my mind, I resolved to have a showdown, though pretty sure of the risk I would be taking. In one entry in my diary, I wrote, "To defend Chairman Mao's revolutionary line, I'll risk my life and never regret!" It is a true display of my state of mind at that time.

Thus I climbed the mountain, "Jinggangshan."

Students from "Jinggangshan" were delighted. Immediately they elected me the orderly of the 9th army of the Department of Eastern Languages of "Jinggangshan," which was rather rare.

Now I had gone to the ocean and climbed the mountain. It was a double-edged sword. On the positive side, it brought peace to my mind, a psychological balance which ridded me of the worry on the joining of the factional organization. On the flip side, it fostered factionalism in me. In effect, I originally had factional inclination. In the past, however, this partisan tendency had to be covered up in one way or another. Now, setting the tune with one beat of the gong, I needed not to be wary of my behavior. I went with my fellow members of the faction, young students, putting up big-character posters and delivering speeches against the "New Beida Commune." Admittedly, my words were not completely true and free of swear.

Admittedly I took a chance on doing this. I thought, even if I lacked an understanding of the Communist Party, I didn't join the KMT or any other reactionary organizations in the past. I had a clean record. I believed the "New Beida Commune" might not be that unscrupulous to lay its hands on me.

Surely it was my personal wish. At this point that woman boss of the "New Beida Commune" must have considered me a thorn in her side. I was aware of her cruelty. In addition, she was at the zenith of her political career, an alternative member of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China (CPC) and a deputy president of the Beijing's Revolutionary Committee. She was really riding high. If I dared to infuriate her, how would she spare me? Moreover metaphysics ran rampant, in which fragments of oral and written expression, if caught by the opposing side, could be distorted, exaggerated and used as evidence for willful false charges so as to label one a counter-revolutionary or an active counter-revolutionary. For instance, the words, "capitalism" and "socialism," were two cards stored together in one of the language drawers of one's brain and might be picked by mistake. A slip of tongue would allow the opposite side a handgrip on the speaker's weakness and the "cap" of active counter-revolutionary would be set on his or her head. That female doltish ringleader often committed such mistakes and made her followers constantly worried for her. This sort of metaphysics, plus partisanship, could undoubtedly condemn one to death, about which I was quite clear.

Therefore, it was rather risky for me to take chances. With this mindset, I was walking on a tightrope and could fall into a deep gorge any time. I was clear-minded about this too. From the summer to the autumn of 1967, I had been an apprehensive tightrope walker, as if I had fifteen young stags in my heart. At this point, rumors were flying everywhere all the time; one said that I would be soon singled out; moments later another said that my home would be raided. I did not know who I should listen to. In my diary, I would make an entry each week, "Heavy clouds are hanging over my head." The storm would strike any time and crush me. Probably other faculty members from "Jinggangshan" all had the same concern about themselves. I was the eldest of them all. I was restless as the long, hot summer and gloomy, golden autumn were ticking away.

[1]Three Kingdoms: A historical novel written by Luo Guanzhong (c. 1330-c. 1400) and first printed in 1522 and translated by Moss Roberts (Beijing, China: Foreign Languages Press, 1991).

[2] "Sanba Type," a popular saying in China, particularly before and during the Cultural Revolution, refers to the type of revolutionary veteran who joined the revolution around 1938, a period marking the end of the First Chinese Civil War (1927-1937) and the beginning of the War of Resistance Against Japan (1937-1945). "Sanba" is the pinyin for the Chinese characters of "thirty-eight."

[3] "Grey-Dragon-catching Brigade," "Ninth Heaven Moon Clasping Brigade" and "Over-leaping Brigade," from Mao Zedong's poems, "Mount Liupan: To the Tune of Qing Ping Yue," "Reascending Jinggangshang: To the Tune of Shui Diao Ge Tou," and "Ascent of Lushan." See p. 43, p. 97, and p. 73, Mao Zedong Poems. Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 2007.

[4]Dr. Hu Shih (1891-1962), Chinese scholar, poet, historian and philosopher; he was president of Peking University from 1946-1949.

[5] Nie and Sun, Nie Yuanzi and Sun Pengyi, one of her leading follower.

[6] "All lands under the Heaven are in the reign of the king," a line from "North Mountain," Section Xiaoya, The Book of Songs.

[7] "The worn-out shoe" means a lewd woman in China.

[8] Yuquanshan, a place and summer resort in the northwest suburbs of Beijing.

[9] Qinglongqiao, a place on the way to Yuquanshan.