the window, he allowed his mind to wander a little from the discipline he’d imposed upon it. He already knew how tough his assignment was going to be, and how the rescue of X—if it could be accomplished—was only the beginning of it. It brought a curious feeling to know so much intellectually about China and to apply this knowledge on arrival to the country’s reality: it felt positively schizophrenic, for instance, to be listening with half his mind to the conversation between the two Chinese next to him, to understand every word they said yet pretend that he didn’t.
In Guangzhou he’d been sorely tempted to buy a newspaper, a copy of
Zhong Guo Qing Nian Bao
—the
China Youth Daily
—which he was accustomed to reading weeks late, in America. This he had resisted, allowing himself only a glance at its headlines. The two men on his right were discussing production figures. They were both foremen in a factory returning home to Xian after a meeting of cadres in Guangzhou. He was curious about them. They were in their fifties; one had mentioned that he was born in Nanjing, while the other came from a village outside Beijing.
To live now in Xian, so far away, he thought, it would have been
shang-shan-xia-xiang
that wrenched them from their native towns and families, or what was called “up to the mountains and down to the villages,” that great experiment of Mao’s that sent intellectuals into the country to dig wells and plow fields, and peasants out of the villages to be trained and educated. He understood the need; there were too many people in China’s cities, and it was vital to spread them out, except that usually only the peasants—the
jie ho
—were ever returned to their native villages. The educated young people, the
chi-shi qingnian
—found themselves banished forever to the countryside. He wondered how
he
would feel if, upon graduating from college, he were to be sent off to a remote Inner Mongolian commune, for instance, to be
tu bao zi
, a hick—literally a clod of earth—for the rest of his life. It had been one of the most astonishing leveling experiments in modern history, the attempt to reeducate nearly a billion people in the “correct” ideological way to think, as against an incorrect way … the turning over of one’s heart and mind to the Motherland, the achievement of absolute trust in the parent-state.
Work without laying down conditions. Work without expecting reward. It is the work that counts, not the person. What helps our reform we should talk about abundantly, what is bad for reform we should not talk about at all. Education Through Labor
. Dui shi, bi dui ren—
it is the mistake weare after, not the man. Be grateful to the state by working with enthusiasm, without thinking of yourself
.
Except that for X it was not education through labor, but reform through labor, and what would Wang be like after his years in a reform camp? To survive he would have learned humility through self-criticism and confession; he would have been taught over and over that he must selflessly work for the greater whole, because whatever changes had occurred since Mao’s death it was doubtful that they would easily reach a labor camp in a remote province. If by now Wang had not turned into a model prisoner, thinking “correct” ideological thoughts, he could just as easily have given up hope and have become a shell of a man. Would he even consent to leave, to escape?
Would he even find Wang? And if he found the camp, would he be able to recognize him? What if he had been altered beyond recognition? From some ancient file there had arrived that single blown-up photograph of a younger Wang …
Comrade Wang, engineer, greeting volunteer workers for our Motherland’s defenses as they arrive in the north from villages and cities all over our country to joyously give of their labor
. There had been no date on the photo, just as there was no knowing what political tide had swept him aside,
In Guangzhou he’d been sorely tempted to buy a newspaper, a copy of
Zhong Guo Qing Nian Bao
—the
China Youth Daily
—which he was accustomed to reading weeks late, in America. This he had resisted, allowing himself only a glance at its headlines. The two men on his right were discussing production figures. They were both foremen in a factory returning home to Xian after a meeting of cadres in Guangzhou. He was curious about them. They were in their fifties; one had mentioned that he was born in Nanjing, while the other came from a village outside Beijing.
To live now in Xian, so far away, he thought, it would have been
shang-shan-xia-xiang
that wrenched them from their native towns and families, or what was called “up to the mountains and down to the villages,” that great experiment of Mao’s that sent intellectuals into the country to dig wells and plow fields, and peasants out of the villages to be trained and educated. He understood the need; there were too many people in China’s cities, and it was vital to spread them out, except that usually only the peasants—the
jie ho
—were ever returned to their native villages. The educated young people, the
chi-shi qingnian
—found themselves banished forever to the countryside. He wondered how
he
would feel if, upon graduating from college, he were to be sent off to a remote Inner Mongolian commune, for instance, to be
tu bao zi
, a hick—literally a clod of earth—for the rest of his life. It had been one of the most astonishing leveling experiments in modern history, the attempt to reeducate nearly a billion people in the “correct” ideological way to think, as against an incorrect way … the turning over of one’s heart and mind to the Motherland, the achievement of absolute trust in the parent-state.
Work without laying down conditions. Work without expecting reward. It is the work that counts, not the person. What helps our reform we should talk about abundantly, what is bad for reform we should not talk about at all. Education Through Labor
. Dui shi, bi dui ren—
it is the mistake weare after, not the man. Be grateful to the state by working with enthusiasm, without thinking of yourself
.
Except that for X it was not education through labor, but reform through labor, and what would Wang be like after his years in a reform camp? To survive he would have learned humility through self-criticism and confession; he would have been taught over and over that he must selflessly work for the greater whole, because whatever changes had occurred since Mao’s death it was doubtful that they would easily reach a labor camp in a remote province. If by now Wang had not turned into a model prisoner, thinking “correct” ideological thoughts, he could just as easily have given up hope and have become a shell of a man. Would he even consent to leave, to escape?
Would he even find Wang? And if he found the camp, would he be able to recognize him? What if he had been altered beyond recognition? From some ancient file there had arrived that single blown-up photograph of a younger Wang …
Comrade Wang, engineer, greeting volunteer workers for our Motherland’s defenses as they arrive in the north from villages and cities all over our country to joyously give of their labor
. There had been no date on the photo, just as there was no knowing what political tide had swept him aside,
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