By Jung Chang and Jon Halliday
Reading Notes (Part One) here. The tome is 613 pages long plus another almost 200 pages of chapter notes, bibliography and index. So I divided the notes in two parts. The first part chronicled Mao’s formative years and the two decades it took him to conquer the nation and become ‘the Chairman.’ This second part catalogues the geopolitical machinations of his colossal ego and a litany of resulting harms endured by the Chinese people.
The transition from Nationalist to Communist rule was managed without great disruption. This machine immediately assumed control of the country. Many old administrators stayed on, under their new Party bosses, and for a time the economy ran much as before. Private businessmen were told that their property would not be touched for a long while and that they must keep their factories functioning and shops open. Industry and commerce were not nationalised for some years, and the collectivisation of agriculture was not carried out until the mid-1950s. (323)
Some sectors, however, were subjected to instant drastic change. One was the law, were courts were replaced by Party committees. Another was the media, on which tight censorship was imposed at once; public opinion was stamped out. Mao would digest the rest of society gradually. Hundreds of Soviet advisors were assigned to China…a Stalinist state was being constructed even before Mao had formally assumed power. The new regime ran into armed resistance in the countryside and dealt with it without mercy. Once the state was secure, Mao began systematic terrorisation of the population, to induce long-term conformity and obedience. His methods were uniquely Maoist. (323)
In October 1950, Mao launched a nationwide “campaign to suppress counter-revolutionaries,” and devoted much energy to this, his first major onslaught since taking power, ordering his police chief to “send reports directly to me.” Mao issued order after order berating provincial cadres for being too soft and urged more “massive arrests, massive killings.” On 23 January 1951, for instance, he criticised one province for “being too lenient, and not killing [enough]”; when it raised its execution rate, he said this “improvement” made him feel “very delighted.” This nationwide campaign, which lasted a year, went hand in hand with the land reform in the newly occupied areas, where some two-thirds of China’s population lived. Some 3 million perished either by execution, mob violence or suicide. (324)
Mao intended most of the population—children and adults alike—to witness violence and killing. His aim was to scare and brutalise the entire population, in a way that went much further than either Stalin or Hitler, who largely kept their foulest crimes out of sight. More might well have been killed if it had not been for their value as slave labour. Mao said as much in one order: some people “had committed crimes that deserve to be punished by death,” but they must not be killed, partly because “we would lose a large labour force.” So millions were spared to be shipped to labour camps. With advice from Russian gulag experts on deportation and camp management, Mao sowed a vast archipelago of camps, the official term for which was laogai: “reform through labour.” A third and typically Maoist form of punishment was imposed on tens of millions of people during Mao’s reign. It was called being placed “under surveillance” while the victim remained in society. What it meant was “doing time on the outside,” kept on a kind of permanent knife-edge parole, one of the usual suspects to be rounded up and tormented afresh with any new bout of suppression. It meant one’s whole family living like outcasts. (325)
The high-visibility stigma served as a warning to the general public to never cross the regime. The terror worked. A report to Mao on 9 February 1951, only a few months into the campaign, said that after this first bout of killings, “rumour-mongering died down and social order stabilised.” What the state called “rumours” were often the only way people had to express their real sentiments. In one case, a seemingly bizarre alert spread not just from village to village, but from province to province: “Chairman Mao sends people to the villages to cut off [men’s] balls to give to the Soviet Union to make atom bombs.” (In Chinese, “balls” and “bombs” share the same pronunciation: dan.) In some places, when what looked like a tax collector appeared, the shout went up: “The ball-cutters are here!,” and the whole village would run for cover. This campaign clamped the lid down hard on any such expression of dissent, but there were still a few cracks in the system in those early years. (326)
But control became increasingly pervasive, and with it the loss of freedom on every front: of speech, movement, work, information. A nationwide system of concierges called Order-Keeping Committees was established in every factory, village and street, composed of members of the public, often the nosiest and most hyper-active busybodies, now made complicit with the regime’s repression. These committees kept an eye on everyone, not just political suspects and petty criminals. Above all, the regime nailed every person in China to a fixed, and usually immutable, job and place of residence through a registration system (hukou) begun in July 1951, which soon became iron-clad. (326)
The “campaign to suppress counter-revolutionaries” lasted a year, until October 1951, though routine suppression continued unabated after that. Mao then focused his attention on securing watertight control of the state coffers, to make sure that the funds the state extracted from the people did not revert to private hands. As corruption had been epidemic under the Nationalists [since forever, really], the campaign had genuine appeal. Many thought that the Communists were trying to root out corruption. What people did not realise was that whilst it was true that after this campaign few who had access to state money dared dip their hand in the till, the funds amassed in the state coffers were not going to be used for the interests of the people. Communist officialdom did become relatively uncorrupt in the conventional sense, such as not taking bribes, but it was granted a privileged standard of living, which was minutely graded hierarchically. (328)
Mao himself did not embezzle in the conventional way, like lesser dictators who kept Swiss bank accounts. But this was simply because he did not need to hedge against losing power. He just made absolutely sure such a day would never come. Rather than embezzling, he treated the funds of the state as his own, and used them however he wanted, disregarding the needs of the population and persecuting any who advocated different spending priorities from the ones he laid down. When it came to personal lifestyle, Mao’s was one of royal self-indulgence, practised at tremendous cost to the country. This corrupt behaviour emerged as soon as he conquered China. (329)
Mao lived behind an impenetrable wall of secrecy, so that very few knew anything about his life and his world, including where he lived or where he was (he made few public appearances). Mao liked villas. During his twenty-seven-year rule, well over fifty estates were created for him, no fewer than five in Peking. Many he never set foot in. These estates were set in enormous grounds, mostly in gorgeous locations. There were often old villas on these spots, many of architectural splendour. These were torn down to make room for building designed and constructed under the supervision of his security forces…These purpose-built edifices were bullet- and bomb-proof; some had deep nuclear shelters. Sometimes, even Mao’s train drove into his villa—or strictly speaking, into the front garden, along a spur laid specially for him. In many places, an exclusive underground tunnel ran all the way from the villa to the local military airport. Mao frequently slept in his train parked at military airports, ready to make a quick getaway by train or plane, in case of emergency. Throughout his reign, he lived in his own country as if in a war zone. (331)
In no area of life did these double standards cause more misery than in the sphere of sexuality. Mao required his people to endure ultra-puritanical constraints. Efforts to relieve sexual frustration privately could lead to public humiliation. One patriotic Chinese who had returned to “the Motherland” was made to put a sign up over his dormitory bed criticising himself for masturbating. All the while, Mao was indulging in every sexual caprice in well-guarded secrecy…singers and dancers, nurses and maids, were handpicked for Mao’s villas to provide a pool of women from which he could choose whoever he wanted to have sex with. (333)
Mao’s paramount requirement from Stalin was help to build a world-class war machine, and turn China into a global power. The key to this was not how many weapons Stalin would provide, but the technology and infrastructure to manufacture armaments in China. (346) Control was one key reason Mao decided to shun Western recognition. But his primary reason was to show Stalin that the new China was committed 100 per cent to the Communist bloc. This was the main reason Peking did not establish diplomatic relations with America and most Western countries when the regime was founded. (347)
At Stalin’s insistence, China had not only paid huge salaries to Soviet technicians in China, plus extensive benefits for them and their families, but had to pay compensation to Russian enterprises for the loss of services of the technicians who came to China. But the concession Mao was most anxious to hide was that he had exempted Russians from Chinese jurisdiction. This had been the issue the CCP had always harped on as the embodiment of “imperialist humiliation.” Now Mao himself had secretly introduced it. (355)
[Mao and Stalin started the Korean War in 1949-50] Stalin recognized that Mao had the drive and the resources, especially the human resources, to expand the frontiers of communism in Asia significantly…By giving Mao custody of Vietnam, Stalin gave himself a way of reaching into Vietnam, and gratified Mao, while passing on to China the enormous expense of sustaining the Indochina insurgencies….Mao now began to take personal charge of action in Vietnam, vetting both grand strategy and the minutiae of military operations…. It was having China as a secure rear and supply depot that made it possible for the Vietnamese to fight for twenty-five years and beat first the French and then the Americans. (357)
In September to October 1950, Mao downgraded operations in Vietnam, in order to focus on a much larger war on another patch of turf that Stalin had decided to assign to him. This was Korea…Mao encouraged Pyongyang to invade the South and take on the U.S.A.—and volunteered Chinese manpower—as early as May 1949. At this stage he was talking about sending in Chinese troops clandestinely, posing as Koreans, and not about China having an open collision with America. (358) But for Stalin, the greatest attraction of a war in Korea was that the Chinese, with their massive numbers, which Mao was eager to use, might be able to eliminate, and in any case tie down, so many American troops that the balance of power might tilt in Stalin’s favour and enable him to turn his schemes into reality. These schemes included seizing various European countries, among them Germany, Spain and Italy. (358)
[President] Truman reacted fast to the invasion. Within two days, on the 27th, he announced he was sending troops into Korea, as well as upping aid to the French in Indochina. Furthermore, he now reversed the policy of “non-intervention” towards Taiwan. It was thanks to this new U.S. commitment that neither Mao nor his successors were ever able to take Taiwan. (361)
Among those who died in Korea was Mao’s eldest son An-ying, killed in an American air raid on Peng Dehuai’s HQ, where he was working as Peng’s Russian translator. It was 25 November 1950, just over a month after he had entered Korea. He was twenty-eight. He had married only a year before, his wife Siqi was a kind of adopted daughter to Mao, and she and An-ying had known each other for some years. When Mao was given the news of his son’s death, he was silent for some time, and then murmured: “In a war, how can there be no deaths?” Nobody informed An-ying’s widow for over two and a half years. While the war was still going on, she accepted An-ying’s silence, as she was used to Party secrecy. But in summer 1953, after the signing of the armistice, she found his continued silence puzzling, and asked Mao, who told her that An-ying was dead. During those years she had been seeing Mao constantly, spending weekends and vacations with him [she was very beautiful and one of Mao’s favourites], and he had not shown any sadness, not even a flicker to suggest anything was wrong. He had even cracked jokes about An-ying as though he were alive. (379)
After Mao had accepted an end to the Korean War, in May 1953, Stalin’s successors in the Kremlin agreed to sell China ninety-one large industrial enterprises. With these assured, on top of the fifty projects agreed to by Stalin, Mao was able to launch his blueprint for industrialization on 15 June. This focused exclusively on building up arms industries, to make China a superpower. It was in effect Mao’s Superpower Programme. Its utterly military nature was concealed, and is little known in China today. [as in 2005 when this book was published] (380)
Mao wanted to channel every resource the nation had into this programme. For decades to come, Mao’s determination to preside over a military superpower in his own lifetime was the single most important factor affecting the fate of the Chinese population. According to official statistics, spending during this period [1953-57] on the military, plus arms-related industries, took up 61 per cent of the budget—although in reality the percentage was much higher, and would rise as the years progressed. In contrast, spending on education, culture and health combined was a miserable 8.2 per cent, and there was no private sector to fall back on when the state failed to provide. In order to save money on health, the regime resorted to schemes like hygiene drives, which called for killing not only flies and rats, but in some areas also cats and dogs, although, curiously, it never extended to cleaning up China’s stinking, and pestiferous, toilets, which survived uncleansed throughout Mao’s reign. (381)
The Chinese were told, vaguely but deliberately, that equipment from the USSR used in China’s industrialisation was “Soviet aid,” implying that the “aid” was a gift. But it was not. Everything had to be paid for—and that meant mainly with food, a fact that was strictly concealed from the Chinese people, and still largely is. China in those days had little else to sell. Trade with Russian, Choe En-lai told a small circle, “boils down to us selling agricultural products to buy machines.” (381)
What China was exporting to Russia, and its satellites, consisted overwhelmingly of items that were basic essentials for its own people, and included all the main products on which China’s own population depended for protein: soybeans, vegetable oil, eggs and pork, which were always in short supply. With only 7 percent of the world’s arable land, and 22 per cent of its population, land was too precious to raise livestock in most places, so most Chinese had no dairy products and very little meat. (382)
The main impact fell on the peasants. Policy was to guarantee basic food to the urban population, with strict rationing, and leave the peasants to starve when the inevitable food shortages struck. Those registered as peasants at the time Mao took power were forbidden to move into urban areas or to change their status. Peasants were not even allowed to move to another village except with special permission (e.g., if they married). Otherwise they were nailed to their village for life. And so were their children and grandchildren. This total immobility was something new in China. Traditionally, peasants had always been able to move geographically as well as socially. They had been able to aspire to fame and fortune—as Mao had done. If there was famine, they had been able to flee into towns or other regions and at least try their luck. Now, even at the best of times, they could never hope to improve their lot, except when the government enrolled them into the army, or into a factory. [As for urban areas] the threat of rustification functioned as a powerful deterrent to urban dwellers not to step out of line. Everyone knew that being cast into the peasantry would bring on themselves and their families not only back-breaking labour, but the loss of certainty of earning a livelihood, and that this misfortune would extent to future generations as well. (383)
On one excursion to the top of a hill, Mao saw a thatched hut on fire in the distance. The inhabitants were standing outside, helpless as the flames swallowed their home. According to Mao’s photographer, Mao “turned to me with a glance, and said coolly: ‘Good fire. It’s good to burn down, good to burn down!’” Throughout his reign, peasants had to fend for themselves when it came to housing. The state provided no funds. Even in urban areas, other than apartments for the elite and residential blocks in industrial complexes, virtually no new dwellings were built. (390)
From the time he conquered China, Mao was determined to take Tibet by force. When he saw Stalin on 22 January 1950, he asked if the Soviet air force could transport supplies to Chinese troops “currently preparing for an attack on Tibet.” Stalin’s reply was “It’s good that you are preparing to attack. The Tibetans need to be subdued…” Staling also advised flooding Tibet and other border regions with Han Chinese: “Since ethnic Chinese make up no more than 5 per cent of Xinjiang’s population, the percentage of ethnic Chinese should be brought to 30…In fact, all border territories should be populated by Chinese…” This is exactly what the Chinese Communist regime then proceeded to do. So Mao played the negotiation game, pretending that he would allow the area virtual autonomy. Acting the benign moderate, he recognized the Dalai Lama, Tibet’s spiritual and governmental leader, as the head of Tibet, sent him gifts like a 16mm film projector, and said reassuring things to Tibetan delegations. Meanwhile he pressed ahead with building two roads into Tibet. (453)
Mao knew about his interest in science. “I know you are a reform-minded man, like myself,” Mao said. “We have lots of things in common,” citing educational reform. “That was the danger with Mao,” the Dalai Lama told us, “everything he said—half true! Half true!” But along with the lulling, Mao was also patronising and bullying, berating the Dalai Lama for not accepting that “religion is poison.” Early in 1956, once the two major roads had been completed into Tibet, Mao set about requisitioning food, attacking religions and confiscating arms in a region called Kham, adjacent to Tibet and inhabited by some half million Tibetans. The people rebelled, and by the end of March had mustered an armed force of over 60,000 men with more than 50,000 guns. Rebellions spread like wildfire in other regions where Tibetans formed a majority. Mao found himself with major wars on his hands covering huge areas of the interior; he resorted to using heavy artillery and aerial bombardment. (454)
Many Tibetans had managed to hang onto their firearms, which for herdsmen were essential for their livelihood. They also had horses, which gave them mobility. But above all they had their own separate identity, language and religion, which enabled them to organize in secret. Mao made it explicit he positively wanted a violent, crushing solution. “In Tibet,” he wrote on 22 January the following year, “there has to be a general decisive war before we can solve the problem thoroughly. The Tibetan rulers…now have a 10,000 strong rebelling armed force with high morale, and they are our serious enemies. But this is…a good thing. Because this makes it possible to solve our problems through war.” Mao was saying: They have given me an excuse to start a war. A month later, he wrote: “The bigger the upheaval the better.” (454)
On 10 March 1959, an uprising broke out in Lhasa, after word spread that the Chinese planned to kidnap the Dalai Lama. Thousands paraded in front of his palace and through Lhasa, shouting “Chinese get out!” Next day, Mao cabled an order to let the Dalai Lama escape. His calculation was that if the Dalai Lama was killed it would inflame world opinion, particularly in the Buddhist countries and India, which Mao was courting. On the night of the 17th the Dalai Lama made his way out of Lhasa and set off for India. Once his escape was confirmed, Mao told his men: “Do all you can to hold the enemies in Lhasa…so when our main force arrives we can surround them and wipe them out.” (455)
On the 29th, following Mao’s orders, a vigorous media campaign began painting Tibet as a terrifying place, where gruesome tortures of the kinds Mao had mentioned, plus gouging out eyes, were everyday occurrences. Aided by age-old prejudices, this propaganda drive was effective, and Mao succeeded in planting the idea in people’s minds that Tibet was a land of barbarism. There had been a very dark side to the rule of the old Tibetan theocracy, but in terms of overall brutality and suffering, Mao’s rule was far worse. Requisitioning was brutal: “nearly all reserve food, meat and butter were confiscated…There was no oil to light lamps, not even firewood…To survive, herdsmen had to eat many of their animals…” The population was herded into canteens, where they were fed “weeds, even inedible tree bark, leaves, grass roots and seeds.” Food traditionally fed to animals had “now become rare nutritious delicious foods.” People’s health declined dramatically: “A tiny infectious illness like a cold led to…masses of deaths. Quite a lot…also died directly of starvation…Death rate was really terrible…Such awful pain of hunger had never existed in Tibetan history.” (456)
Large numbers of Tibetans were put through violent denunciation meetings, including the father and family of the Panchen Lama, who wrote: “People were beaten till they bled from the eyes, ears, mouths, noses, they passed out, their arms or legs broken…others died on the spot.” For the first time in Tibet, suicide became a common practice. With so many Tibetans joining rebellions against Mao’s regime, Chinese troops treated most Tibetans as enemies, rounding up the majority of adult males in many places, leaving only “women, the old, the children and extremely few young and middle-aged men.” After Mao’s death, the Panchen Lama revealed what he had not dared put in his original letter that a staggering 15-20 percent of all Tibetans—perhaps half of all adult males—were thrown into prison, where they were basically worked to death. (456)
The crushing of the rebellions produced atrocious behaviour on the part of Chinese troops. In one place, the Panchen Lama described how “corpses were dragged down from the mountains” and buried in a big pit, and the relatives were then summoned and told: “We have wiped out the rebel bandits, and today is a day of festivity. You will all dance on the pit of the corpses.” Atrocities went in parallel with cultural annihilation. This period witnessed a campaign officially called “Big Destruction,” in which the entire Tibetan way of life came under violent physical assault for being “backward, dirty and useless.” Mao was bent on destroying religion, the essence of most Tibetans’ lives. (456)
“Holy Scriptures were used for manure, and pictures of the Buddha and sutras were deliberately used to make shoes,” the Panchen Lama wrote. The destruction was of a kind that “even lunatics would hardly carry out.” Most monasteries were destroyed, “the sites looking as if they had just been through a war and bombardments.” According to the Panchen Lama, the number of monasteries in Tibet fell from over 2,500 before 1959 to “only just over 70” in 1961, and the number of monks and nuns from over 110,000 to 7,000 (some 10,000 fled abroad). On his tours in the early 1960s, Tibetans came at great risk to see the Panchen Lama, crying out and weeping: “Don’t let us starve! Don’t let Buddhism be exterminated! Don’t let the people of the Land of Snows become extinct!” Mao was “greatly displeased” with the Panchen Lama’s letter, and visited much suffering upon him, including ten years in prison. (457)
In February 1959, Russia signed an agreement to provide China with the means to make nuclear submarines. This marked the high point of the Kremlin’s cooperation on technology transfers. But even while the deal was being signed, Khrushchev was having second thoughts about endowing Mao with such enormous military power. Mao, he felt, “was bursting with an impatient desire to rule the world.” Khrushchev gave orders to go slow on transferring nuclear know-how and on 20 June 1959 he suspended assistance on the Bomb. To have his own camp, and not have to play second fiddle to Khrushchev, had long been Mao’s dream. As Khushchev had begun to dry up as a source of military hardware, Mao felt less concerned about annoying him. Nor did he want a split from him either, as Russia was still handing over a wealth of military technology, with no fewer than 1,010 blueprints transferred in 1960 alone—more even than in 1958. (458)
So Mao formulated a policy of “not to denounce” the Russians “for the time being” and sought to milk them of everything he could as fast as he could. “China will become powerful in eight years,” he told his top echelon, and Khrushchev “will be completely bankrupt.” The goal for now, he told his inner circle at the beginning of 1960, was “to propagate Mao Tse-tung Thought” round the world. At first, the drive should not be too aggressive, in order, as he put it, not to be seen to be trying to “export our fragrant intestines” (to which Mao compared his “Thought”). The resulting propaganda campaign brought the world “Maoism.” The idea of promoting China’s experience as a model when the Chinese were dying of starvation in their millions might seem a tall order, but Mao was not perturbed: he had watertight filters on what foreigners could see and hear. (459)
Mao made sure that no Chinese except a very carefully vetted elite could get out of the country. The only people who got out and would talk were a small number of daring ordinary citizens who risked their lives and swam to Hong Kong. They broke the wall of silence around Mao’s famine and the dark realities of Red China in general. But their voices won little credence in the West. The future Canadian prime minister Pierre Trudeau came in 1960 and co-wrote a starry-eyed book, Two Innocents in Red China, which rejected reports of famine. Even the former chief of the UN’s Food and Agricultural Organization, Lord Boyd-Orr, was duped. (460)
Mao’s self-promotion abroad was fuelled by vastly increased handouts of his usual trio: arms, money and food. This spree of gifts by Mao coincided with the worst years of the greatest famine in world history. Over 22 million people died of starvation in 1960 alone. (461)
In Latin America, Peking made a beeline for Cuba after Fidel Castro took power in January 1959. When Casto’s colleague Che Guevara came to China in November 1960, Mao doled out U.S. $60 million as a “loan,” which Chou En-Lai told Guevara “does not have to be repaid.” In the Communist bloc itself, Mao worked on trying to acquire influence in every country, but only managed to detach one client from Russia’s sphere of influence: tiny poverty-stricken Albania. Thanks to food donated by China, the Albanians did not even know what rationing was, while the Chinese were dying in their tens of millions. Spotting Peking’s crude criteria for allegiance, freeloaders jumped aboard the gravy train. …Venezuelan leftists walked off with U.S. $300,000 of China’s money funnelled through Albania. Dutch intelligence set up a bogus Mao Party, which was funded and fêted by the Chinese. The CIA’s top China hand, James Lilley, told us they were delighted to discover how easy it was to infiltrate China: simply get a few people to chant hosannas to Mao and set up a Maoist party, which Peking would then rush to fund—and invite to China. (These spies, however, were useless, as all foreigners were rigidly segregated from the Chinese.) (462)
Mao had miscalculated. Russian retaliation came at a highly disadvantageous time. Although his scientists had secured the technology to make a Bomb, the Russians had not finished imparting their expertise in building the delivery system: the missiles. The Chinese scrambled, telling their scientists to seize every minute and dig things out of the Russians before they left, by hook or by crook. Song-and-dance girls were brought in to get Soviet minders drunk and detain them on the dance floor, while Russian scientist’s notebooks were photographed. Even so, the missile program, and indeed the entire Superpower Programme, was thrown into disarray. Mao’s impatience to promote himself as a world leader, and rival to Khrushchev, had led him to shoot himself in the foot. (464)
Scores of large-scale projects were cancelled. Mao later blamed the famine that he himself had created on their cancellation, which he alleged had damaged China’s economy, and his claim is believed in China to this day. In fact, the cancellations should have eased the famine: China could now export less food. (465)
At the end of May 1966, Mao set up a new office, the Cultural Revolution Small Group, to help run the Purge. Mme Mao headed it for him…Under the new cabal, the cult of Mao was escalated to fever pitch. In June, Mao intensified the terrorisation of society. He picked as his first instrument of terror young people in schools and universities. These students were told to condemn their teachers and those in charge of education for poisoning their heads with “bourgeois ideas”—and for persecuting them with exams, which henceforth were abolished. The young were told that their role was to “safeguard” Mao, although how their teachers could possibly harm “the great Helmsman,” or what perils might beset him, was not disclosed. Nevertheless, many responded enthusiastically. Taking part in politics was something no one had been allowed to do under Mao, and the country was seething with frustrated activists who had been denied the normal outlets available in most societies, even to sit around and argue issues. Now, suddenly, there seemed to be a chance to get involved. To those interested in politics, the prospect was tremendously exciting. (514)
On 2 June, a group from the middle-school in Peking put up a wall poster, which they signed with the snappy name of “Red Guards,” to show they wanted to safeguard Mao. Their writing was full of remarks like “Stuff human feelings!” “We will be brutal!” “We will strike you [Mao’s enemies] to the ground and trample you!” The seeds of hate that Mao had sown were ready for reaping. Now he was able to unleash the thuggery of these infected teenagers, the most malleable and violent element of society. To make sure that students were fully available to carry out his wishes, Mao ordered schooling suspended from June 13. “Now lessons are stopped,” he said, and young people “are given food. With food they have energy and they want to riot. What are they expected to do if not to riot?” Violence broke out within days. On 18 June scores of teachers and cadres at Peking University were dragged in front of crowds and manhandled, their faces blackened and dunces’ hats put on their heads. They were forced to kneel, some were beaten up, and women were sexually molested. Similar episodes happened all over China, producing a cascade of suicides. (515)
Over the next four months, 11 million young people came to Peking and Mao made seven more appearances at Tiananmen Square, where they gathered in massive, frenzied, yet well-drilled crowds. There was not one school in the whole of China where atrocities did not occur. After terror in schools, Mao directed his Red Guards to fan out into society at large…and called on Red Guards throughout the country to “smash old culture.” …Mao wanted something much more vicious [than beatings, torture and murder]. On 23 August he told the new authorities: Peking is not chaotic enough…Peking is too civilized.” As Peking was the trail-blazer and the provinces all copied the capital, this was a way to pump up terror nationwide. That afternoon, groups of teenage Red Guards, many of them girls, descended on the courtyard of the Peking Writers’ Association…the Red Guards rained blows with their heavy belts on some two dozen of the country’s best-known writers.
MEME
Large insulting wooden plaques were hung on thin wire from the writers’ necks, as they were thrashed in the scorching sun. Mao also cleared the way for the atrocities to escalate by issuing orders to the army and police…saying they must “absolutely not intervene” against the youngsters, using uncommonly specific language such as “even firing blanks…is absolutely forbidden.” (518)
To spread terror deeper and closer to home, Mao got the young thugs to make violent raids on victims selected by the state, which gave their names and addresses to the Red Guards. It was with the authorities’ blessing that the Red Guards broke into homes where they burned books, cut up paintings, trampled phonograph records and musical instruments—generally wrecking anything to do with “culture”. They “confiscated” valuables and beat up the owners. One of Mao’s aims with the house raids was to use the Red Guards as proxy bandits. They confiscated tons of gold, silver, platinum, jewellery, and millions of dollars in hard currency, which all went into the state coffers, as well as many priceless antiques, paintings and ancient books. (520)
In the summer of 1966, Red Guards ravaged every city and town, and some areas of the countryside. “Home,” with books and anything associated with culture, became a dangerous place. Fearing that the Red Guards might burst in and torture them if “culture” was found in their possession, frightened citizens burned their own books or sold them as scrap paper, and destroyed their own art objects. Mao thus succeeded in wiping out culture from Chinese homes. Outside, he was fulfilling his long-held goal of erasing China’s past from the minds of his subjects. A large number of historical monuments, the most visible manifestations of the country’s civilisation, which had so far survived Mao’s loathing, was demolished. In Peking, of 6,843 monuments still standing in 1958. 4,922 were now obliterated. (521)
Epilogue: Today, Mao’s portrait and his corpse still dominate Tiananmen Square in the heart of the Chinese capital. The current Communist regime declares itself to be Mao’s heir and fiercely perpetuates the myth of Mao. (631)


