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This poster, displayed in late 1966 in Beijing, shows how to deal with a so-called 'enemy of the people' during the Cultural Revolution. (Jean Vincent/AFP/Getty Images)
One week after my father left home to escape being beaten to death by the village Cultural Revolution committee, the people from the committee still came to terrorize us every day. We became more and more scared, and my grandmother became sick and stayed in bed.
I was now the only man at home, an 11-year-old boy, and I felt a great responsibility. I told myself that I had to be strong, and kept encouraging my mom and grandmother not to worry, father would soon come back home with good news. As our house was very cold, I went to the mountains to get firewood with a simple snow sled I had built. At least we could keep warm. We didn’t have much to eat; potatoes were our main food. At night we’d sit near the mud-brick fireplace and sometimes my grandmother would roast a few potatoes while I studied the homework my father had given me. The smell and taste of the potatoes was such a treat.
One day, as usual after dinner, my mom opened the door to check on the dog and make sure he had enough food. But Won wasn’t there. I realized that I had not seen Won the whole afternoon.
While we were looking around for the dog, we suddenly saw my father coming home with Won by his side. Somehow the dog sensed that my father was on his way back home, so he had run all the way to the train station to meet him. My father was touched to tears. He looked thinner, but calm and confident.
My mother however was very anxious, and she quickly pulled my father to the storage room, asking him to be quiet and hide because the militiaman would be here any time. I followed my parents into the storage room and my father told us not to worry anymore, he had been to Beijing and talked to an official at the Central Committee of the State Council. “My award certificates are still valid and prove that I am not guilty of any crimes. Besides, this Cultural Revolution is just a soul-revolution movement; force and torture are not allowed. They cannot do anything to me.”
Suddenly we heard our dog barking, and knew the militiaman had come and was already outside our house. My father opened the door of the storage room while my mom started shaking uncontrollably. My father said calmly, “Don’t worry, I will talk to him. I am ready to talk to them.”
My father went to the door and let the militiaman in. The man looked startled at first, and then happily greeted my father, “How have you been? Has your aunt recovered? We missed you so much, and I came to your home everyday to look for you. Are you ready to follow me to the meeting tonight?”
My father looked at him kindness and confidence and said, “I did not visit my aunt. I went to Beijing and met an official at the Central Committee of the State Council at Zhongnanhai to discuss my case. I was told that I am an honorary person of the nation and not guilty of any crimes. I will share more with everyone. Please go with me to the meeting.”
The militiaman was silent for a moment. Then he said, “You have so much courage, you even went to the top level of the government. I am proud of you. Aren’t you afraid the committee may now brand you a ‘present-day’ counterrevolutionary in addition to ‘historic’ one?”
The Village Meeting
My father went to the village criticizing meeting with high spirits. After the villagers heard that my father went to Beijing and came back, most all of them came to the meeting that night. All the leaders of the Cultural Revolution committee also attended, including my uncle who was very anxious. My mom and I also went. We didn’t know what to expect, but I was hopeful and proud because of my father’s courage.
At the meeting my father gave a speech: “Dear fellow villagers, greetings! I have missed you all during these 10 days while I was on a long trip to Beijing. I met an official at the Central Committee of the State Council in Zhongnanhai. I felt my appeal would be meaningful not only for myself, but also for all of you. I wanted to find the truth and tell everyone. I inquired about my case and also about this Great Cultural Revolution movement. I now have a much clearer understanding of everything. You can continue to criticize me as before, but please give me the opportunity to share what I found out.”
People seemed moved by my father’s courage, and surprised by his appealing in Beijing. It seemed the leaders too were interested in listening and all remained silent.
My father continued: “I was told that the certificates the government issued to me previously are still valid and demonstrate that I am a well-achieved person and have benefited the nation.
“I was also told that this Great Cultural Revolution is just for touching everyone’s soul to improve ourselves as individuals. You may criticize me if I am wrong, but I am a person of value who has contributed to the nation, and not an enemy. Chairman Mao himself said the Cultural Revolution is not meant to torture or abuse people. From now on you can criticize me if you have evidence, but not slander me. And you also cannot physically and psychologically abuse me and my family. Anyone doing so, he will be held accountable in the future.”
A few of people were looking at each other while my father continued: “Dear fellow villagers, during the past five years since I and my family have come to this village, we have been good neighbors. Do you really think I am a bad person or your enemy? Do you remember, when your children were sick in the middle of the night, I went with you to see the doctor, and on the long mountain road, we took turns carrying your child on our backs?
“Do you still remember, most of you have come to my house to ask me to write and read letters for you because you cannot read?
“Do you remember when you had problems in your marriage, you came to me for advice and I helped you save your marriage?
“Do you remember that I started a project to bring electricity to our village, and we hoped to have electric lights by New Year’s Eve this year? Unfortunately it seems this is now impossible because I have been treated as your enemy and all of you also stopped the project. I believe none of us really want this to happen.
“And do you remember every year before New Year, you all used to come to my house and ask me and my son to write ‘duilian’ poems for you so your family would have good luck during the next year. This year, we have not started yet, and I’m not sure we still have time.”
People lowered their heads and started murmuring, “It’s true.” Some of them looked sad and regretful.
Then the head of Cultural Revolution committee stood up and said in a loud voice, “Quiet, everyone! We need to be careful! This is how our class enemy uses sugarcoated bullets to lull our class struggle vigilance!”
Everyone’s eyes turned to him. My father also looked at him, and then continued his speaking while looking at the head leader.
“Someone with political ambition and selfishness wants to achieve his political goal and takes advantage of a political movement to slander innocent people. Such a person has lost his conscience and heart. By causing innocent people suffering he satisfies his own interests. How ugly is such a person's soul!
“Remember, I am giving a friendly warning to such a one here: Good is rewarded with good, and evil receives retribution, this is a heavenly law that delivers justice for everyone. If you are such a person, you should feel conscience-stricken, and then stop doing bad things right now. Otherwise it will be too late for you.”
My father’s words hit the head leader like a bomb. His face became contorted from anger and humiliation. People all turned their attention to him. They all knew that he was the instigator of the accusations against my father. There were in fact no “class enemies” in the village, but he needed one to advance his political career.
My father had made his points, and the people were moved. In a moment of silence, another leader said, “We better end our meeting here and will reopen after our committee has had a discussion.”
After the meeting people seemed a little friendlier to us, and a few showed guarded support with a nod or a smile.
Labor Camp
Once someone was branded a “counterrevolutionary,” it was not easy for that label to be removed. After my father's appeal in Beijing, and his fearless and rational speech at the meeting, the Cultural Revolution committee of the village no longer organized such criticizing meetings. Because they knew that without strong factual evidence, it was no longer easy for them to arrange speakers to continue slandering my father. In fact, up to that point most of the speakers at the meetings had been hired by the Cultural Revolution committee. Each criticizing speech was rewarded 10 work points, corresponding to one day work on the village farmlands. If someone did not comply, 10 work points would be deducted from his account.
