[Chaos and Cruelty] (Part 1)

(I)
When I was sixteen, I had graduated from rural middle school and joined the forestry production team. One early autumn afternoon,
all the villagers and students stopped work and classes for a denunciation rally.
Before the rally even started, loudspeakers were blasting one quotation after another, the cheap and high-pitched songs
emitting a deafening buzz. Red flags were planted all around the platform, one after another, obscuring the sky, rustling
and popping in the northwest wind. In the center of the platform, sheets of
white paper were strung together with a hemp rope, bearing the words "Denunciation Rally for Counter-Revolutionaries Luo Changnian, Lian Shaohua, and Zheng Xiaowan" written in large black characters
. Because there was nothing else to hold them in place, they fluttered in the wind.
The platform used for the denunciation was over a meter high. There was nothing else on it except a desk placed in the left
corner, with a microphone on it for the host.
Zheng Xiaowan was my mother.
The area below the platform was already packed with people—teachers and students from the entire school, men, women, and children from the whole town. Today was
a day of "stopping production to make revolution," a rare afternoon of rest. Regardless of who was being criticized, at least they didn't have to work in the fields, so everyone
was relaxed. Women chatted while sewing shoe soles, men leisurely smoked their pipes, and some of the
boys were fooling around.
Although I knew my mother would be criticized today, as a son of a counter-revolutionary family, the production
team leader had ordered me to come, and I dared not disobey.
"Lu Xiaobei, see how your mother gets criticized later," a bad boy said directly to me.
"Fuck your mother," I cursed back fiercely but in a low voice.
He seemed not to hear me cursing him at all. A few people were gossiping again: "Tell me, how come the women in this city
are over thirty but still act like seventeen or eighteen-year-old girls?"
"Hey! I love looking at those big round butts. When they're being struggled against, those butts are so round!"
"Are we going to be paraded through the streets later? If we are, I have to touch that woman's butt." "
Even if we're not paraded, I still want to go on stage."
"Even if you're not paraded, you won't dare touch her butt on stage. You can't even touch her breasts."
"It would be satisfying to slap her twice."
...
A group of bad boys were loudly gossiping about my mother, not taking me, a "black five categories" dog's son, seriously at all.
Thinking about my mother who was about to be struggled against, kneeling somewhere waiting to be taken to the stage, imagining her
being tortured by some militiaman, and hearing them speak so rudely about my mother, it felt like
something crazy had been implanted in my head. All the nerves in my body changed. I couldn't describe the feeling. It was humiliation,
but not entirely; it was fear, but not entirely either. My body trembled, as if gripped by some kind of excitement.
"The rally to criticize and denounce counter-revolutionary bad elements now begins!" A Red Guard woman, wearing a dark red military belt and two
thick but not very long braids, walked to the front of the platform and
announced the start of the rally in Mandarin with a southern accent. This woman looked no different from any other seventeen or eighteen-year-old Red Guard, but
in reality, she was over thirty. She was our music teacher, named Lu Yilan, and had been sent down to our
commune from the south. I really don't know why she, in her thirties, looked as delicate as a twenty-year-old.
"The seas are churning, the clouds are raging, the five continents are shaking, and the winds and thunder are raging. Our great leader Chairman Mao taught us, never
forget class struggle, counter-revolutionaries cannot be defeated without being beaten..."
After reciting a long passage of quotations, she finally got to the point: "The counter-revolutionary slut Zheng Xiaowan, her father
was the Kuomintang police chief, and her mother was a prostitute. Born into such a reactionary family, Zheng Xiaowan harbored
a deep hatred for the working people from a young age. Since being sent down to the countryside to work, she has refused to accept the education and reform of the poor and lower-middle peasants,
using her looks to seduce and corrupt revolutionary cadres, engaging in illicit affairs, and causing moral depravity. Revolutionary comrades, tell me, should such a bad
element be criticized and struggled against?"
Lu Yilan asked loudly. The crowd below the stage had been waiting impatiently. Upon hearing the question, they all raised their fists
and shouted, "Yes..." The square was filled with the sound of thunder.
"Luo Changnian, a counter-revolutionary capitalist roader, came from a rich peasant family that had been arrested. He consistently adhered to the counter-revolutionary bourgeois
education line and opposed Chairman Mao's proletarian education line. He couldn't resist the seduction of the prostitute Zheng Xiaowan and began an affair with her, committing
immoral
acts... "Lian Shaohua, a counter-revolutionary, had already embezzled public funds on a large scale during the Four Cleanups Movement. After getting away with it, he
continued to take petty bribes... This time, he even used a newspaper with a picture of a close comrade of the Great Leader as toilet paper to
wipe his bottom, utterly reactionary...
After listing all the crimes of the three, Lu Yilan shouted: "Bring up the unreformed, immoral counter
-revolutionary prostitutes Zheng Xiaowan, Luo Changnian, and Lian Shaohua!"
With Lu Yilan's shout, the three bad elements, two men and one woman, were each grabbed by the neck by two militiamen and brought
to the platform.
One of the women, bound like a dumpling, was my mother, Zheng Xiaowan. And the fat
man wearing glasses was Lu Yilan's husband.
My mother was only thirty-four years old that year. Her arms were tied behind her back, with thick, pencil-thick hemp ropes
binding her arms and chest tightly, so tightly that even her thin clothes were digging into her full flesh. Her two
large breasts protruded even more noticeably under the tight constriction of the ropes. Around my mother's neck hung
a pair of worn-out cloth shoes worn by rural women, the ropes holding them together so short that the worn shoes almost touched her chin.
Six militiamen led my mother and two others to the center of the front of the stage, facing the revolutionary commune members below. They
forcefully pressed their heads down and brutally kicked their legs together before
setting them down.
Although the militiamen's pressure was gone, the people being struggled against seemed to be frozen in place, not daring
to move, their legs straight, their upper bodies bent at an acute angle, their backs exposed to the audience below.
Although I was bent over on the platform, and although I was sitting on the ground below with other revolutionary masses, because
all three of them were bent over like shrimp, I could clearly see my mother from below the platform.
Her arms were bound behind her back. Her mother's wrists were tightly bound together with rope, the
ropes starting at her shoulders and converging at her upper arms, forming a knot. Her plump wrists, half-clenched, had
turned purple.
"You stinking slut Zheng Xiaowan, don't bend your legs!" Lu Yilan roared at her mother. Her mother straightened her legs forcefully,
her upper body still bent, her buttocks sticking high in the air.
First, Lu Yilan announced her mother's crimes, interrogating her after each one: "Zheng Xiaowan, tell me,
did you do this?"
Her mother would lower her head, looking at her feet, and loudly answer, "I did it, I'm guilty."
Then Lu Yilan would shout again, "Lower your stance, you stinking bitch!"
This was just the usual practice at the time, but her mother would bend her upper body even lower to show
her remorse.
After Lu Yilan finished announcing, the audience took turns speaking on stage. It was the same host, Lu Yilan
, who spoke first. She denounced how her mother slacked off during labor, how she said reactionary
things during political studies, how she spread decadent bourgeois ideology among students, how she used her body to seduce Luo Changnian to
evade reform, and so on. After reading it all, to show her hatred for the class enemy, she grabbed her mother's hair,
lifted her head, and slapped her twice hard. "Zheng Xiaowan, are you being honest?"
Her mother's face was helplessly lifted upwards by her grip. "Yes... I'm being honest..."
"Pah..." Lu Yilan spat on her mother's face, then pressed her head
down again. "Get down, you slut!"
Her mother's face was covered in the woman's spit, and she bent her upper body into a sharp angle again, motionless as if
fixed by some magic.
Lu Yilan looked triumphantly at her mother, who obediently endured her scolding, interrogation, and insults without daring to resist in the slightest. Satisfied,
she grabbed her mother's neck and forcefully pressed her head down, almost to her knees, making her
body resemble a contorted shrimp. Then she spat fiercely at her mother's head before turning to
another person being struggled against, Lian Shaohua.
Lian Shaohua was Lu Yilan's husband. He had married this beautiful and alluring
actress because he worked in the south after graduating from university. After the Cultural Revolution broke out, during the purge of class ranks, for the same reasons as my parents—Lian
Shaohua, also from a landlord family—had his urban household registration revoked and was sent back to his rural hometown to be subject to dictatorial control. Lu Yilan also
returned to our commune with her husband. In order to draw a clear line between classes, Lu Yilan bravely
exposed Lian Shaohua for using a newspaper with a large photo of Jiang Qing as toilet paper and for all the reactionary remarks he made in bed. This earned her
the praise of Lin Dake, the "Invincible" rebel commander-in-chief and principal of the commune middle school, and she
transformed from an object of dictatorship into an active member of the dictatorship against the enemy.
Lu Yilan grabbed her husband's sparse hair without mercy, forcefully pulling his head
upwards, and angrily demanded, "Lian Shaohua, how much public money did you embezzle during the Four Cleanups Movement?"
The fat man answered timidly, "Four hundred...thirty-seven yuan."
Lu Yilan continued, "Why are you two-faced? Singing
praises of the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution at school, but cursing the proletarian revolutionary line at home?"
The fat man helplessly let his wife pull him, "I...I...I'm dishonest...I'm guilty..."
"You insulted Comrade Jiang Qing, the standard-bearer of the revolution, you insulted Comrade Jiang Qing, tell me, do you know your crime?"
"I know my crime, I confess...Down with Lian Shaohua!" Unable to answer, Lian Shaohua actually led the
chanting of "Down with me!", but his voice wasn't loud enough, and the revolutionary masses below didn't react.
Lu Yilan slapped her husband twice hard across the face before pressing him down to continue pulling him up.
After listing the reactionary crimes of another teacher, Luo Changnian, the next
student to speak was a girl from one of my mother's former classes. This girl, probably only twelve or thirteen years old, loudly criticized my mother for
promoting bourgeois ideology in class, opposing the Great Leader's ideological line, and physically punishing students, among
other things. Finally, she demanded of my mother, "Zheng Xiaowan, do you admit your crimes?"
My mother, with her head bowed, loudly replied, "I admit my crimes."
The little girl didn't pull my mother's hair; instead, to express her hatred for the class enemy, she walked to my mother
's side, raised her small hand, and punched her twice in the head, shouting, "I'll teach you to be reactionary!
I'll teach you to be reactionary!"
My mother bent over, not daring to move, enduring the beatings and insults.
Next, a young man of about twenty, a sent-down youth, spoke on behalf of the militia.
After she finished speaking, the scoundrel lifted her mother's chin, pulling her face up so she was facing the sky. He then forcefully
pinched and rubbed her face with both hands. "Did you deliberately cut down the corn seedlings while weeding the corn?"
"Yes...I'm guilty..." Her mother's face contorted and changed shape in his large hands like a clay figure
, yet she still answered his interrogation.
His hands continued to knead and pinch. "Did you spread rumors against the August 15th Corps in private?"
"Yes...I..."
"Do you know your crime?"
"I...I confess..."
"Will you dare to do it again?" The thug didn't let go immediately, continuing to ask.
"I won't."
"Reform yourself properly, lest your cunt itch again and you go looking for someone to sleep with."
...
"Did you hear me?"
"I heard you...I'll reform myself properly...I'll work hard..."
After making small talk for a long time, the thug reluctantly released his hands from the mother's face and
walked off the stage with a smug look on his face.
This kid was sitting not far in front of me. He'd criticized my mother before, and now, acting all innocent, he turned around
and whispered to me mischievously, "Your mom's face is fucking tender."
"Fuck you," I muttered back.
"Report!" a loud shout came from behind me.
I turned around and saw a bad boy standing up, shouting at the platform, "Lu Xiaobei is swearing!
He's insulting the revolutionary masses and opposing reform!"
Before Lu Yilan could even hear what was being said, someone in the audience shouted, "Drag him up here and make him
fight alongside his mother!"
"Yes, drag him up here to fight alongside her!"
Lu Yilan yelled, "Bring Lu Xiaobei up here!"
My arms were grabbed from behind, and I was forcibly pulled up. Then, several people pushed and shoved
me onto the platform, next to my mother who was being struggled against.
"Lower your head!" Then my upper body was forced down, and my arms were twisted and raised upwards by two people
.
"Down with the counter-revolutionary bastard Lu Xiaobei!"
"Make the bastard bow his head and confess his crimes!"
Someone in the audience took the lead in shouting slogans, and everyone responded.
"Landlord's son, behave yourself, bend over and don't move!"
Another round of slogans erupted from below. I was terrified, so I obediently lowered my head and raised my arms high
. The two Red Guards left, but I remained stubbornly in that position, standing
beside my bound mother, enduring the struggle session without daring to move.
Facing my fellow villagers and classmates with whom I lived and worked every day, presented in this posture
before the public, forced to endure slaps and spitting, and forced to act like a wooden puppet,
the psychological humiliation far outweighed the physical exhaustion and pain.
People today probably don't understand why we listened to them. They told us to bend over in that position
, and we did it without flinching. What good did it do if we didn't? To be honest, such a problem simply
didn't exist back then. The overwhelming power of the dictatorship of the proletariat and the violent actions of the revolutionary masses had
terrified those of us from the "four categories" of families to the core. We could only do what they were told; no one dared to resist, and no one even
considered resisting.
Five or six more people came up to speak. By this time, the denunciation meeting had been going on for over an hour, but the mother and the other two
hadn't dared to move an inch. Their bodies remained bent over like shrimp. Even Shao Hua's legs were trembling uncontrollably
. But without the permission of the revolutionary masses, none of the three dared to straighten their backs, or even
change the angle of their bent bodies. They remained in the same bent-over position that the militiamen had forced them down at the beginning of the meeting.
"Now, let the reactionary academic lackey Lian Shaohua confess his counter-revolutionary crimes."
With Lu Yilan's announcement, Lian Shaohua, wearing thick glasses and struggling to straighten his back after
nearly two hours of bending, knelt before a microphone set up specifically for those being denounced and began his confession
: "The east wind is blowing strong, the red flag is waving, and triumphant songs are soaring to the sky. Just as the people of the whole country are guided by the glorious line of the Ninth National Congress of the Communist Party of China
… I, however, was secretly insulting Principal Lin. Insulting Principal Lin is insulting Chairman Mao's revolutionary education line
… Because I was filled with hatred for the great leader and his close comrade-in-arms, Comrade Jiang Qing, I even used
a newspaper with Comrade Jiang Qing's photo to wipe my buttocks, thereby insulting the standard-bearer of the revolution… I am utterly wicked and deserve to die a thousand deaths…"
"Down with the reactionary lackey Lian Shaohua!"
"Let the reactionary Lian Shaohua never be able to rise again!"
After a burst of slogans, the denunciation continued. My mother, also scolded by Lu Yilan, knelt down in front of the microphone on
the platform. The microphone was placed on the ground, and my mother could only reach it by kneeling.
"Our great leader Chairman Mao taught us never to forget class struggle... Counter-revolutionaries cannot be defeated without being beaten...
I come from a reactionary family... I have engaged in illicit sexual relations... I have sabotaged the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution... I deserve to die
... Thank you to the revolutionary masses for their criticism and struggle against me... I will reform myself well in the future and strive for leniency..."
My mother repeated the words she had to repeat every time she was being struggled against, as if reciting a memorized script
. After that, Luo Changnian knelt down to confess his crimes.
"Take the counter-revolutionary bad elements Zheng Xiaowan, Luo Changnian, and Lian Shaohua down to parade them through the streets!"
Amidst the deafening slogans, a group of Red Guards came up, grabbed the people who were being struggled against on the platform,
including me, and pushed and shoved them into the street to begin the parade.

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