HISTORY FOR THE MASSES
by Geremie R. Barmé*
Every policy shift in recent Chinese history has involved the
rehabilitation, re-evaluation and revision of history and
historical figures.
The early stages of the Cultural Revolution were preoccupied with
questions of political rehabilitation, (1) and even in the years
following the Cultural Revolution political rehabilitation
similarly affected virtually every aspect of society. Not only
were older cadres who had been purged or unaligned during the
Cultural Revolution gradually restored to power or posthumously
honoured, but entire historical epochs, figures, and even
cultural forms, themes and styles were 'rehabilitated'.
From the late 1970s onward the Chinese leadership spoke of its
work of righting past wrongs as 'bringing order out of chaos and
returning to the rectitude (of the past)' (
boluan fanzheng
). (2) This was also described as 'giving things back their
original appearance' or 'turning an inverted history on its
head'. The rehabilitation process that began in the early 1970s
and continued until the early 1980s (3) together with the 1981
Party resolution on history formed a theoretical and practical
background to the reform policies of the 1980s.
From the start, however, Deng Xiaoping and his fellows were
concerned that the nation 'unite as one and look to the future'.
They wished to avoid entanglement in historical minutiae and the
settling of old scores. The Party therefore attempted to define
the parameters of rehabilitation and debate rather than let the
momentum of public, intellectual and academic pressure lead where
they might, as was to happen, for example, in the Soviet Union
under Gorbachev. In this context Deng Xiaoping's speech at the
closing session of the month-long work meeting held in
preparation for the Third Plenum of the 11th Congress of the CPC
in December 1978 is of particular importance. The title of the
speech itself was an indication of its basic tenor: 'Liberate
Thinking, Seek Truth from Facts and Unite and Look to the
Future'. (4)
Deng emphasized among other things that 'resolving questions left
over from the past, clarifying the achievements and errors of
certain people and correcting a number of major unfair, incorrect
and false cases is essential for the liberation of thought as
well as for stability and unity'. (5) Here the utilitarian
dimension of the policy of rehabilitation is quite obvious. Deng
also stole a march on his critics inside and outside the Party.
He did this by emphasizing that the entire leadership and not Mao
Zedong alone had to take responsibility for the errors of the
1950s and 1960s. (6)
One of the chief problems that the Chinese have had in coming to
grips with the problem of Mao is that, unlike in the Soviet
Union, there is no Stalin-Lenin dichotomy. Instead, a distinction
is made between the early and late Mao. Deng's strategy,
moreover, has been to create a collective body of 'Mao Zedong
Thought' from which all unwanted theories can be excluded and
into which any number of revisionist policies can be
incorporated. As he stated in 1980, 'The banner of Mao Zedong
Thought can never be discarded. To throw it away would be nothing
less than to negate the glorious history of our Party... It would
be ill-advised to say too much about Comrade Mao Zedong's errors.
To say too much would be to blacken Comrade Mao, and that would
blacken the country itself. That would go against history'. (7)
Since expediency and the immediate need for 'unity and stability'
were the key motivations behind the late 1970s' Party revision of
history, Deng stressed that 'it is impossible and unnecessary for
[these questions] to be resolved to our complete satisfaction. We
must consider the broader issues, we can afford to be sketchy;
it's impossible to clear up every little detail, and
unnecessary'.(8) Setting the basic line on the evaluation of both
Mao and the Cultural Revolution, he made it quite clear that 'Mao
Zedong Thought will eternally be our ... most precious spiritual
heritage'. (9) With such words, he avoided a repetition of the
kind of political and ideological suicide committed by Khruschev
when he launched his denunciation of Stalin. (10)
Developments in the Soviet Union have had a crucial impact on
Chinese attitudes towards history. As Wen Yuankai, a leading
Chinese thinker, said in January 1989:
The bold measures which Gorbachev has taken since
assuming office have had an extremely profound and subtle effect
on China. Nearly all the reforming socialist nations are
presently re-examining their own histories, including the great
Stalinist purges. Every day new details are revealed, not only in
the Soviet Union but in other countries as well, including China.
This has made China reflect deeply on its own past.
(11)
However, whereas Stalin and his henchmen are now readily used to
personify evil in popular Soviet thought and culture, from the
mid-1980s there has been a revival of the Mao Zedong cult in
China. In addition to mass-released cassettes with fresh
recordings of Cultural Revolution songs in praise of Mao and the
mass-produced, laminated portraits that went on sale starting in
1991, the most substantial expression of the revival has been in
publishing, with numerous books on Mao authored by everyone from
his last concubine (Zhang Yufeng) to his bodyguard (Li Yinqiao).
Liu Yazhou's book of 1990
The Square - Altar for an Idol
, altogether is sympathetic to Mao, depicting a great leader who
finds that his people have failed him as much as he has failed
them. (12) So, too, have the controversial reportage writers Jia
Lusheng and Su Ya produced a remarkably obsequious and purple
prose-laden 'study' of the Mao cult. (13)
Rather than allow the momentum built up during the rehabilitation
process of the late 1970s to get out of hand, in 1981 Party
leaders had ordered the writing of a new and supposedly final
verdict on post-1949 historical questions that, theoretically,
would end all debate on contentious major issues and ensure
'unity for the future'. (For an alternative perspective on this,
see Suzanne Weigelin-Schweidrzik's chapter.) Hu Qiaomu, who had
played a major role in the composition of the 1945 resolution
describing the history of the Party from 1921 onward as a
'history of Mao Zedong' (14) - a resolution crucial in forming
the basis of the Mao-cult from the 1950s - was assigned to
oversee the writing of the 1981 resolution. Thus one of the
leading and earliest architects of the Party's ideological
mythology was put in charge of historical interpretation once
more. (In the late 1990s, Hu led a group assigned to write the
official history of the Party, while Deng Liqun, Hu's chief
assistant in this project and a man who came to prominence as an
underling of Chen Boda during the purge of Wang Shiwei in 1942,
oversaw the composition of the first history of the People's
Republic.) (15) The 1981 Party document gave what was intended to
be the final word on Mao Zedong's errors, the nature of the
political purges of the 1950s, and the Cultural Revolution. It
would provide the theoretical basis for the 1987 purge of
'bourgeois liberalization' as well as the Party's interpretation
of the events of 1989 and the justification for the post-Massacre
purge.
The official limits imposed on the discussion of post-1949
history ran into opposition from the very outset. One of the
first public objections came from the Shanghai-based veteran
writer Ba Jin, who, in essays written in 1978-79, had appealed
repeatedly for the 'right to remember'. (16) Despite the care
taken by the leadership and Party ideologues, the official view
of the Cultural Revolution as an historical 'blank spot' (
kongbai
), the call to 'liberate thought', the official stress on
practice being the sole criterion of truth and particularly the
1981 document, all contributed in varying degrees to the creation
of new ideological spaces in which writers and historian could
pursue their work. In the late 1970s, the historian Li Shu, as
the new editor of the major specialist journal
Historical Research
(Lishi yanjiu), called for a re-evaluation of major historical
questions, as did the Party theoretician Li Honglin, who in 1978
demanded a lifting of taboos on Party history.
(17)
However, while their work was highly significant, academic
historians were not publicly prominent in the 1980s. They
produced important revelations on such subjects as the Chinese
Trotskyites, the Cultural Revolution, and the Anti-Rightist
Movement as well as on numerous other periods and incidents in
the Party's history, material which has continued to appear in
specialist journals, even since the June 1989 purge. But
novelists, journalists and a few academics writing for the press,
television or commercial publishers - despite what is often a
more sensationalist or less rigorous approach - have had a more
marked effect on the changing historical consciousness of the
general population.
By the early to mid-1980s, pressure for further political
rehabilitations reaching back to the 1950s and even earlier
(first of Hu Feng, then Yu Pingbo, and later of the film 'The
Life of Wu Xun' and Hu Shi) was threatening the legitimacy of the
Party's entire post-1949 political and cultural line. Hu Yaobang,
then Party General Secretary, advocated new cultural and
political policies, allowing a higher degree of historical
re-assessment than any other leader at the time. His stance can
be interpreted either as a direct challenge to the Party's line
on history as outlined in 1981, or as the inevitable outcome of
the extraordinarily contradictory elements of the Party's new
'liberal Maoist' ideology. In 1986, Hu Qili, on behalf of Hu
Yaobang, suggested a re-assessment of all the Party's major
intellectual and cultural purges beginning with the 1940s (the
denunciation of Wang Shiwei in Yan'an being a case in point).
(18) When Hu Yaobang was later attacked for being indulgent
toward 'bourgeois liberalization' and removed from office, his
attitudes towards Party history and culture were among his
crimes. It was the intellectual atmosphere he had helped create
that resulted in the appearance of many of the works discussed
below.
Having noted this, it should not be forgotten that Hu Yaobang
also had had a key part in drafting the 1981 resolution on Party
history and that in 1980 he had overseen the first (albeit mild)
purge of the cultural world of the reform era, which included
criticism of several popular works dealing with the Cultural
Revolution. And despite his willingness in 1985 to confront the
cases of Wang Shiwei and others, in 1986 he issued a directive
warning that the depiction of historical events and figures in
literary works must accord with Party policy: 'These are not
questions of artistic license, but issues of political import and
rectitude'. (19)
The years 1985-88 were, nonetheless, something of a watershed in
terms of media representations of history due in part to Hu
Yaobang's pronouncements and the appointment in late 1985 of Zhu
Houze as head of the Party's organs of propaganda. But if such
political moves were opening up the past to political
re-interpretation, economic reform opened up history to
commercial exploitation as well.
One of the key catalysts of intellectual and cultural diversity
in China from the early 1980s onwards was provided by the partial
reform of the publishing industry. Encouraged to turn a profit,
during each period of relative ideological relaxation publishers
have learned that controversy and sensation sell books. Having
been force-fed a unitary view of history for so long, many people
had developed an insatiable appetite for alternative perspectives
of any kind, no matter how ludicrous or fictional. This helped
foster the boom in reportage and historical writing discussed
below, as well as encouraging writers of serious literature to
look into the hidden corners of pre-1949 history. Tabloids and
monthly pulp magazines, meanwhile, have found the publication of
historical revelations and scandal most profitable.
The ideological backlash of the post-Tiananmen period provided
those who had been involved in prosecuting earlier purges with a
convenient excuse to oppose further historiographical license.
(20) The prospect of continued rehabilitations and re-evaluation
of 1950s history posed a direct threat to leaders still in power
who had participated in the past persecutions (including Deng
himself, active in the Anti-Rightist Campaign of 1957).
So long as publishers must show a profit, however, controversial
publications get produced, and the impact of such books can be
massive. The official indexes of books banned after June 4 were
carefully guarded so they would not fall into the hands of
publishing entrepreneurs, as the government well knew that the
temptation to produce pirate editions would be tremendous.
Reading banned books traditionally is a popular form of opposing
authority: in traditional China one of the great pleasures for a
scholar-gentleman was described as 'shutting one's door, turning
away guests and reading banned books' (
bimen xieke du jinshu
). Whatever the wishes of Party elders, revisionist writings on
history continue to see the light of day.
Literature
In the post-Mao era, the first popular vehicle for historical
re-awakening was the short story. Starting in 1978 a series of
stories appeared dealing with the sufferings of individuals
during the Cultural Revolution. They were called 'scar
literature' or 'literature of the wounded' (
shanghen wenxue
). (21) There were also fleeting attempts in poetry and theatre
directly to address problems created by the Mao personality cult.
The most noteworthy example of such poetry is Sichuan poet Sun
Jingxuan's 1980 'A Spectre Prowls Our Land', which equates Mao
and feudalism. (22) The harsh criticisms to which Sun was
subjected may have discouraged others from producing further
works on this theme. The army poet and playwright Bai Hua's early
Eighties play about the ancient kings of Wu and Yoe is another
example. (Bai Hua is best known for his screenplay 'Unrequited
Love', which was denounced by Deng Xiaoping in March 1981.
'Unrequited Love' has, as a subtext, an attack on Mao, and
pointedly ends with a symbolic setting sun.) (23) The suppression
of attempts to deal, in fiction and other ways, with the
historical problem of Mao set the stage in the late 1980s for a
popular revival of the Mao cult.
In late 1985, following a seminar on new research options for
modern literary studies, a group of Beijing University academics
began re-evaluating 20th-century Chinese literature. (24) They
were building on the considerable work done in collecting,
collating and publishing research materials in literary history
from the early 1980s.
Ironically, it was the Party's invalidation of previous
'ultra-leftist' policies that not only provided researchers and
writers the leeway to rewrite history in favour of the new
dispensation, but to create new histories and styles of
historical narrative as well. Younger scholars trained from the
late 1970s onwards as well as middle-aged academics were the
chief beneficiaries of the nascent pluralism, but it was not
until mid-1988 that a concerted broad-based re-assessment of
modern literature and the Party's literary canon began.
The new historiographical movement was launched from Shanghai.
Shanghai wenlun
, the arts journal of the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences,
published a series of articles beginning in August 1988, under
the general title of 'Rewriting Literary History'. Edited by Mao
Shian and the academics Chen Xihe and Wang Xiaoming, this series
attempted a systematic critique of contemporary Chinese
literature that questioned the cornerstones of the Party's
literary canon. Chen remarked in the introduction to the series,
which ran until late 1989:
The aim of this section is to enliven literary criticism and to
make an assault on the virtually immutable conclusions of our
literary history. In the process it is also our hope to whet the
reader's appetite for reconsidering the past. Of course, our aim
is to have an impact on the present. (25)
From the mid-Eighties, individual critics like Liu Xiaobo in
Beijing and Li Jie in Shanghai undertook independent analyses of
literary history and the predicament of contemporary culture. For
a while, Liu became a significant public figure, his views widely
disseminated among university students. Li Jie was less of a
firebrand. (26) Another academic, Xia Zhongyi, kept a low profile
but launched one of the most controversial attacks to date on
Maoist literary theory, particularly as expressed at the Yan'an
forum in 1942. (27)
In terms of elite literature, writers of the 'roots' (
xungen
) fiction of the mid-1980s can be seen as attempting to find an
historical context and narrative for China's present state. From
1986 onwards many other novelists, including practitioners of the
Chinese 'avant-garde' styles, also gradually developed an
interest in historical themes. This has produced a rich body of
works set in the Republican period, leading writers of such
fiction being Su Tong, Ye Zhaoyan and Zhou Meisen. (28)
In early 1991, the Henan writer Liu Zhenyun published a novel
which depicted the national character and tradition in a far more
directly negative light than anyone else had to date. Liu's
Yellow Flowers
(29) opens in the early Republican period. It follows the
internecine strife of a village near Kaifeng all the way into the
early 1980s. It is a tale of personal alliances, betrayals,
violence and mayhem woven into a 'meta-discourse' of early
Republican politics, the anti-Japanese war, the strife between
the Nationalists (KMT) and Communists and then the political
struggles of post-1949 China. Published in the Nanjing literary
journal
Zhongshan
as a prime example of 'new realism',
Yellow Flowers
goes beyond the pedestrian paradigms of the Anti-Japanese War,
land reform and Cultural Revolution literature and deals instead
with the group psychology of one village throughout seven decades
of its history. (30) The result is both mordant and 'hyper-real';
it presents a historical landscape encompassing both gloom and
humour that goes beyond the obstinately harrowing fictions of
writers like Zhang Xianliang and Cong Weixi.
In terms of popular literature, however, the greatest
commodification of history occurs in the pages of weekly tabloids
and best-selling books about Cultural Revolution and Republican
period scandals.
'Faction' and Mass Media Historians
The term 'mass media historian' is used by Stephen Wheatcroft to
denote the journalist-historians, film-maker-historians and
ideologues who helped awaken popular awareness of historical
issues and whose works also gave an important thrust to the
development of independent historiography in the Soviet Union in
the mid- to late-1980s. (31)
Similarly, 'mass media historians' have played a crucially
important role in China since the late 1970s. From the mid- to
late-1980s, writers like Liu Binyan, Su Xiaokang, Dai Qing, Zhao
Yu, Li Rui, Ye Yonglie, Quan Yanchi, Liu Yazhou, Yan Jiaqi, Gao
Gao and many others have had a considerable popular impact. The
works of many of these writers were subsequently banned, but this
was more because of their activities in 1989 than inherent
problems in their earlier writings.
These 'mass media historians' created a semi-official and at
times even unofficial forum for the airing of controversial
questions. While some have merely added footnotes to official
history, or created wildly colourful fictional accounts of
certain figures, periods and incidents, others have been involved
in the creation of a 'parallel history' to that presented by the
Party.
Here the term faction [factual fiction] is used as an equivalent
of the Chinese term
jishi
wenxue
which includes reportage (a generally heavily value-laden
genre), biography, memoirs, special reports as well as new
journalism. (32) The 'scar literature' and 'in memoriam
literature' (
aisi wenxue
) of the late 1970s was, to a great extent, the precursor of
certain styles of faction. (33) From 1985 onwards, faction,
especially what was known as 'problem literature' (
wenti baogao wenxue
) and 'factual literature,' (
jishi
wenxue
), was increasingly directed at the mass audience. As the
Shanghai critic Wu Liang Put it, it satisfied the readers'
natural curiosity and voyeurism in a way that serious literature
or even pap novels never could. (34)
From the mid-1980s, of the two traditional strands of reportage
in China - the social critique and the paean to socialism - the
critical achieved a new popularity. (35) This was widely seen as
an outcome of the increasing pressure within the society as a
whole and among professionals in particular for greater freedom
of the press: a desire for more untainted information about both
historical and contemporary social questions. The repeated
attacks on reportage writer Liu Binyan, and particularly his
expulsion from the Party in early 1987 and subsequent attacks on
his work, certainly would have encouraged more cautious writers
to look for material which was topical yet sufficiently removed
from sensitive political issues to ensure safe passage to
publication. Younger writers, ranging in age from their twenties
to forties, had fewer concerns for political propriety. They were
less hesitant to reopen old debates or to discuss historical
events and personalities from new angles, They have been
motivated by a temptation to achieve fame through sensation as
well as a desire to learn more about the past in order to come to
grips with contemporary social and political reality.
Throughout 1986, the twentieth anniversary of the Cultural
Revolution, numerous works on the 'ten years of chaos' were
published, ushering in the first solid wave of Cultural
Revolution nostalgia and also adumbrating the popularity of a new
style of faction, historical journalism (
lishi jishi
).
During the Spring Festival of 1986, the official televised Spring
Festival variety extravaganza featured arias from Beijing
Revolutionary Operas of the Cultural Revolution era. Tapes of
disco versions of the operas first produced in 1985, were sold
nationwide. Similarly, fictionalized accounts of Cultural
Revolution events became a minor industry. In 1985, Suo Guoxin,
an army writer, published a popular trend-setter of this type,
Seventy-eight Days in
1967 - A Record of the 'February Countercurrent'. (36) (Not a
re-assessment of history, Suo's book followed closely the
official evaluation of the 'February Countercurrent'.) (37)
'Yibairende shinian' (One Hundred Peoples' Ten Years), edited by
Feng Jicai and published in major literary journals such as
Shiyue
and
Wenhui
yuekan
, belongs to the so-called 'veritable record of oral statements'
(
koushu
shilu
or
jishi
) type of reportage popularized in China by Zhang Xinxin and Sang
Ye in 1984 in their Studs Terkel-style 'Beijing ren' (Chinese
Lives). (38) This form of oral history has been known in China
for many years, and was used to record histories of families,
factories, army units, and so on after 1949, with the purpose of
illuminating the pain and suffering of the 'bad old days' before
the revolution. In his work, Feng Jicai kept well within this
tradition by adding at the conclusion of every account a moral
aphorism, transforming them into a series of cautionary tales.
(39)
Further publication of Feng's series was effectively stalled
until 1989 by a Central Committee document issued by the Shanghai
Publication Bureau on 18 October 1986, in compliance with a
directive from the State Publication Bureau in Beijing which
stated that all manuscripts dealing with the Cultural Revolution,
sex and the Anti-Rightist Movement had to be submitted to the
Bureau for approval before publication. This was taken to be
equivalent to a ban, for it was understood that any manuscripts
submitted would be confiscated. Naturally, none were sent to
Beijing; and none were published for a time. (40)
Mud-raking
vis-à-vis
the past is not always a controversial task, though, and many
clever writers have exploited Cultural Revolution materials for
their own political and economic profit. For example during the
summer months of 1986, before the above ban was supposed to take
effect (not that it ever really did) Hu Yuewei and Ye Yonglie,
two of the most prominent writers of such pulp history, published
new works. (41) Their writings, while often quite sensational in
tone, and allowing considerable license when it comes to
reproducing the conversations and private thoughts of their
protagonists, nonetheless keep well within the parameters of the
politically acceptable.
This loose style of pop history is not limited to unabashed hacks
like Hu and Ye: even the much-vaunted history of the period, Gao
Gao and Yan Jiaqi's
The Ten Year 'Cultural Revolution'
suffers from such flaws. (42) It should be noted, however, that
this book is not merely another pop history. It served definite
functions within the context of the contemporary debates
concerning political reform. Many similar works that 'used the
past to serve the present' were produced by liberal- or
reform-minded intellectuals around this time. An example is
Ten Years of Unjust Cases
published in December 1986, a volume of essays covering cases of
unjust imprisonment during the Cultural Revolution produced by
the Ministry of Public Security publishing house with a foreword
by Yu Haocheng, a leading advocate of legal reform. (43) The
editors explained that the volume was produced to show the need
for the rule of law and the protection of individual rights.
One of the first notable examples of a new strain of writing
about the past, historical reportage (
lishi jishi
), was the
Liberation Daily
reporter Qian Gang's 'The Great Tangshan Earthquake' (Tangshan
da dizhen), written for the tenth anniversary of the disaster in
1986. Using masses of documentary material and interviews, it
attempted to go beyond superficial reporting to inform the reader
not only what had happened and its political shock waves but also
to point out its contemporary relevance. Also important and
highly influential was Hu Ping and Zhang Shengyou's account of
the tragic Red Guard link-up on Jinggang Mountain. (44)
Similarly significant was Ta Ying's 'Report on the War Prisoners
of the Volunteer Army' (Zhiyuanjun zhanfu jishi), which revealed
the previously unknown fates of Chinese soldiers on special
missions who were taken prisoner in the Korean War and
re-evaluated those involved. Such writing 'used history to see
people afresh, to establish a new standard for judging people'.
By discussing the fate of the prisoners it allowed readers to use
the information to make their own assessment not only of the
incidents depicted but the nature of China's socialist revolution
and the relevance of the past to the present. (45) Zhao Yu's
'Dreams of Greatness' (Qiangguo meng) and Li Rui's 'The Deep
Earth' (Houtu) (46) are both examples of works that dealt with
unchanging traditions, the historical roots of present problems,
and the national character.
Such themes are particularly evident in the work of the
journalist Dai Qing. Her research into the cases of Wang Shiwei
and Chu Anping became part of a personal quest not only to
investigate major historical incidents, but also to reveal how
the Party systematically wiped out alternative schools of thought
through its purges of intellectuals. (47)
Faction is generally regarded as having reached something of an
apogee in 1988-89. (48) Zhang Shengyou, a leading writer of
reportage for the
Guangming Daily
, remarked in March 1989 that Su Xiaokang's historical works (in
particular his
On the Altar of 'Utopia' - Lushan in the Summer of
1959) (49) comprised only a start: 'There is no way we can build
a modern structure on the ruins of old ideology. We have to be
like Gorbachev and engage in a large-scale reconsideration of
history'. (50) He noted that the success of 'River Elegy' had
prompted television stations to employ reportage writers to
script new series. He thought this new mass medium held out great
promise for historical investigations. In 1992, Zhang himself
showed how reportage writers could also turn their talents to
showing up the old ideology by scripting the sycophantic
pro-Reform TV series 'Ten-year Tide' (Shinian chao). (51)
The Soviet writer Anatoli Rybakov's novel
Children of the Arbat
(published in 1987), about the Stalin era, was quickly
introduced into China with excerpts, reviews and commentaries
appearing in the literary press from early 1989. (52) In a
comment on
Children of the Arbat
, Natalya Rubenshtein had remarked:
The revision of the past is a diverting pastime, but it has left
the leaders and heroes of Soviet society naked. Ever since Herzen
and Chernyshevsky the Russian novel has eagerly absorbed the
social pamphlet and the sociological tract, bearing on its covers
the evergreen questions 'Who is guilty?' and 'What is to be
done?' These questions are still on the agenda today. But another
question has been added to them: 'Was there another way?' In
other words, was it inevitable that the dictatorship of the
proletariat should have turned into a dictatorship of murderers?
Was there, in history, another path which remained unused? The
answer to this theoretical question has a practical significance.
For on it depends the moral force - and staying power - of the
present leaders' mandate. (53)
This is precisely the direction the writings of Dai Qing, Su
Xiaokang and other relatively independent authors of 'historical
investigative journalism' were taking in the late 1980s. As to
the reason for the popularity of such writing, perhaps
Rubenshtein's observation on Rybakov's marked success in the
Soviet Union is relevant: 'he does give his readers a feeling of
self-importance, by conducting serious conversations with them on
society and history'. It can be argued that this is one of the
reasons why Chinese writers like Liu Binyan, Su Xiaokang and even
Cong Weixi, an author of 'prison reportage', and Zhang Zhenglong
more recently (54) have achieved such extraordinary popularity.
They have used the medium of popular - even purple - historical
prose or investigative journalism to discuss issues of general
interest and relevance in a language and style that can be
tolerated, even sanctioned by the Party. They go a long way
toward satisfying a popular appetite that remains unsatisfied by
official communiqués.
Movies and Television Documentaries
Cinema was increasingly used in the last years of the Cultural
Revolution to reflect the political policies of the day with
considerable speed. In the mid-Seventies, films like
Chunmiao
(Spring Seedlings) and
Fanji
(Counterattack) had been prominent examples of radical Cultural
Revolution policy and the fictional justification of it, while
others, like
Chuangye
(Pioneering), had been identified with the Zhou Enlai-Deng
Xiaoping camp.
A hiatus in film production after Mao's death was soon followed
by the production of cinematic works reflecting the new policies,
including that of political rehabilitation itself. The most
obvious examples include Xie Jin's 1979
Tianyunshan chuanqi
(The Tale of Tianyun Mountain) and Yang Yanjin's
Kunaorende xiao
(Troubled Laughter). Another sub-genre of rehabilitation cinema
that received massive state funding were the films extolling
'revolutionary historical themes' (
geming lishi ticai
), consisting predominantly of tedious studies of the valour and
achievements of Dead Revolutionary Males (DREMS) such as He Long,
Chen Yi and other victims of the Cultural Revolution. (55) Even
such products of a relatively strict Party line, however,
revealed the contradictions, follies and tragedies created in the
past by Party excesses and errors. While the aim of such cinema
was, in the words of one critic, to 'revive the tradition of
revolutionary realism and give history back its original mien',
(56) it tended to further undermine the Party's monopoly over the
past. The focus of such films remained educational and
propagandistic but the tales they told, no matter how overwritten
in favour of the status quo, could not help but warn audiences
against putting too much faith in the Party and its evanescent
policies. The more recent spate of revolutionary historical epics
made between 1989-92 - ranging from the pro-Deng hagio-pic
Bose qiyi
(The Bo'se Rebellion) to a plethora of Mao movies - reflect a
more deliberate policy of simply extolling leaders past and
present, expurgating from the record as far as possible the
irksome inconsistencies of historical fact.
A number of the earliest films of the 'fifth generation'
directors who ushered in a new trend in Chinese cinema cast their
stories in the historical past of the Party. This is true, for
example, of Zhang Junzhao's
Yige he bage
(One and Eight) and Chen Kaige's
Huang tudi
(Yellow Earth), films that caused considerable controversy by
reinterpreting elements of what can be called the Party's
'creation myth' of the Anti-Japanese War period and the Communist
base in Yan'an. But they were not the only ones to engage in this
project. At times changes in official policy have necessitated a
recasting of history in ways that have had a mass impact.
Following the increasingly conciliatory line towards the KMT
government in Taiwan during the mid-80s, films and publications
were produced that gave a fuller picture of the Anti-Japanese War
. Taierzhuang zhi zhan
(The Battle of Taierzhuang) made in 1986 is an example. One of
the most costly war epics made in China to date, it cast the KMT
army in a positive, even heroic light in its battle with the
Japanese. Prior to this, although specialist historical materials
had gradually acknowledged that the Communists did not prosecute
and win the war against Japan single-handedly, this was a
watershed in terms of the mass media. Thus, although the film was
part of a new propaganda strategy towards Taiwan it led the
public to reconsider central elements of the party's history, and
one of the cornerstones of the Party's claim to historical
legitimacy, in a new light - with unpredictable consequences.
The fate of films that attempted a re-evaluation of history
before the party was ready for it can be seen in the 1985 ban
against Wu Ziniu's
Gezishu
(The Dove Tree). An anti-war film based on the Sino-Vietnam
conflict of 1979, it reportedly deals sympathetically with the
enemy. Production was stopped during filming. By the early 1990s,
China's renewed friendship with Vietnam, on the other hand,
forced one aspiring film-maker to cancel plans for an epic film
portraying the Vietnamese in a negative light.
Many other films, particularly those dealing with the Japanese,
have suffered from similar shifts in foreign policy. This is also
true of documentary films; TV documentaries in 1985 of Japanese
war atrocities, in particular the Nanjing Massacre, to some
extent fired the first anti-government student protests of that
time (the protests were initially aimed at Japan's 'new
[economic] invasion' of China).
A number of Soviet films played a considerable role in
popularizing historical debate from the mid-80s. Of these, the
most often mentioned is Tengiz Abuladze's
Repentance
. A thinly veiled critique of Stalin, it had created a sensation
in the Soviet Union. Chinese commentators were particularly
interested in the fact that the film went beyond earlier works to
delve 'deeply into the psychological make-up of the national
culture so as to reveal the causes of the historical phenomenon
of the personality cult.' (57)
The discussion of historical themes and the nature of the Chinese
national character (
guominxing
) became a central feature of TV documentaries in the late 1980s.
In 1988, 'Heshang' (River Elegy), a six-part documentary,
exploited the medium of television to present its own highly
controversial view of Chinese history and its contemporary
relevance. Seen by a number of critics as a natural corollary to
the style of reportage and faction that had become increasingly
popular since 1985, (58) 'River Elegy' also introduced to a mass
audience some of the most unorthodox debates of the cloistered
academy. This marriage of mass media and pop scholarship had an
immense impact throughout China. Although the series was
virulently denounced after June 4 1989, and its writers variously
purged, detained or forced into exile, it has led to many
imitations which in turn reflect a number of political and
intellectual agendas.
The two most noteworthy post-1989 TV history documentaries are
'On the Road', screened in August 1990 and the final episode of
'Tiananmen', banned in early 1991. 'On the Road' (Shijixing -
sixiang jiben yuanze zonghengtan) was produced by the Ministry of
Propaganda as an obvious riposte to 'River Elegy'. The ideologue
Deng Liqun acted as the series' general adviser. (59) One of the
chief script writers was Qin Xiaoying, an historian and sometime
'liberal intellectual' formerly employed by the Academy of Social
Sciences. Each of the four half-hour episodes highlights one of
the Party's Four Basic Principles, with a commentary and images
that interpret the history of the past 150 years as a process
leading to inevitable socialist victory in China. The opening
sequence uses a pop song over images of Marx, Lenin, Mao and Deng
Xiaoping, affirming the apostolic succession within the
historical enterprise of revolution. The pop star Liu Huan sings:
You are a seed of fire, igniting this slumbering land [image of
Marx]
You are a prophesy, describing the path for all human ideals [cut
to a picture of Lenin]
You are a banner, fluttering in the wind to face all on-coming
storms [portrait of Mao]
You spoke a truth, you are a banner, having fallen and risen, but
emerging victorious [Deng Xiaoping, shown bobbing up and down in
the water as he does the breast stroke]. (60)
The opening sequence of the eight-part documentary 'Tiananmen',
which was completed in May 1991, is radically different in both
style and significance. It shows an artist retouching parts of
the massive portrait of Mao Zedong that hangs on Tiananmen: a
stroke to the eye, a brush to the nose, and then a caressing
limning of the tell-tale mole on the chin. (Before 1 May and 1
October each year, the portrait is changed for a cleaned and
retouched replica.)
[See Media Library for a clip of this mole-painting
scene.]
'Tiananmen' was produced and directed by the young film-makers
Shi Jian and Chen Jue who work for Chinese Central Television.
Using the production name of 'The Structure, Wave, Youth, Cinema
Experimental Group' (61) and availing themselves of the
privileges and opportunities provided by their high-profile
station, Shi and Chen spent some three years working on the
project. 'Remembering Things Past' (Wangshi), the eighth and
final episode of the series with a narration written by an
academic, Guang Yi, is the most important in the context of
'using the past to serve the present'.
The episode is a meditation on the history of Beijing in the 20th
Century, the subtext of which is a 'reflexive comment' on the
events of 1989 by indirect reference to earlier historical
events, dates and personalities. Following the official rewriting
of the 1989 Protest Movement and the production of a plethora of
books, articles and telespecials on 'the true mien' (
zhenxiang
) of what happened, it is easy for any alternative historical
work to draw disquieting parallels between the past and the
present, The narrator notes:
This is a city that has inherited numerous written documents and
oral tales from its past, No matter how people today wish to
judge it all, the moment the gates of memory are opened, life,
history and personal fate flow forth, demanding attention...
History, like life itself, can be savoured.
When he lived in Beijing, Lu Xun commented on the Twenty Four
Dynastic Histories: 'History records the soul of China, pointing
out the future. Yet because it is overwritten and laden with
rubbish, it is hard to see what is actually there. Like the
moonlight seen reflected on moss through the leaves of a tree,
all you can make out are shifting shadows'. (62)
The episode plays on the symbol and significance of May Fourth,
the seventieth anniversary of which came in 1989. Images of the
original patriotic movement are followed immediately by a
commentary on its legacy and the December 9 Movement of 1935. (It
should be recalled here that the first patriotic anti-government
student demonstrations in the People's Republic occurred in 1985
as a commemoration of this movement). Film and photographic
images of the police crushing the 1935 movement have a
particularly strong resonance for those who experienced 4 June
1989:
May 4, 1919: This is a date that has left a mark on modern
Chinese history.
December 9, 1935: This is another. Yu Xiu, a participant in the 9
December demonstrations recalled many years later: 'It was the
middle of winter, and the streets were particularly cold that
morning. The trams rattled past, as if to emphasize how empty the
streets were... Suddenly from an alley near Gangwashi, a phalanx
of students appeared. Waving their arms they shouted: 'Down with
Japanese Imperialism! ' 'Oppose Special Treatment for North
China!' 'Stop the civil war, unite against Japan!' Then they sang
the 'Song of the Volunteers'. This broke the morning silence of
Xidan'.
There are detailed written records, but the pictorial images we
have are incomplete, making it hard to reconstruct the actual
events of the day. The students proceeded to Xinhua Gate to
present a petition. The authorities' response was unconvincing.
Yu Xiu records: 'The leaders of the Beiping Student Union
declared an end to the petitioning and called for demonstration
to begin. The students joined ranks behind their school flags.
With written slogans leading the way they marched away from
Xinhua Gate along the Avenue of Eternal Peace. They were blocked
by armed police near Liubukou. When they forced their way through
some students were beaten or hacked to death by bayonets. There
was an uproar and the shouting of slogans could be heard from all
quarters. A fire engine appeared and water cannon were aimed at
the amassed students. They were dispersed for a time, but they
soon regrouped and proceeded. Although their ranks had been
broken, the demonstrators continued, arms linked'. It is a grim
recollection, and the images are unclear. Yet the sensations and
the details they present are undeniable... A new tradition was
born, one that belongs to the young. Theirs is the voice of
China's modern history.
This episode is studded with self-important yet powerful comments
on the role of history. For example, a little further on comes
the remark:
Recollection is painful. But for the living, forgetfulness is
more fearsome. These images and comments are all true. They are a
harsh reality, one that lives on through the scattered remnants
of passing time.
The episode ends with a few words about Tiananmen Square, the
camera moving slowly over the heavily-scuffed paving stones ...
stones also marked by the frantic wheeling of the tanks when they
occupied the area and crushed tents on the morning of 4 June. The
sequence following this shows a woman walking out of Tiananmen
amidst a crowd of people. The commentary scrolls slowly over the
last sepia-tinted shots:
Sometimes the pace of history is rapid, at other times it is
painfully slow. Regardless of this, with time the meaning of the
past gradually gains clarity.
It is impossible to say just how many people have walked over the
stones of the square since they were first laid. If you have
walked here, or if you return, stop and meditate for a moment.
Many things from years past will gradually take shape in your
mind's eye...
Perhaps you will hear the events of a distant past recount to you
some hope, long-born, and now clearly calling out to be heard. As
life needs to be heard, as the months and days need to be heard.
As time itself needs to be heard, in all of its detail...
Today continues, every moment so very real.
Our present travails will also be remembered and commented on.
Today too is life, a witness...
Attempts to have the series screened at the 1992 Hong Kong
International Film Festival were stymied by Beijing. As
mentioned, an official TV version of the events of April-June
1989, with a contrary message, was produced for repeated
screening in China and also for international consumption, the
Chinese authorities even attempting to get this 'documentary'
aired on foreign television. This too was a form of media
history, a product that would be more familiar to Winston Smith
and his colleagues in 1984's Ministry of Truth than any other
produced in China in recent years.
Soap Operas
The recasting of history for mass consumption is not limited to
propagandistic or art-cinema documentaries. TV soap operas also
weave a mythology of the past for present-day audiences,
influencing historical consciousness in many ways.
The fifty-part soap opera 'Aspirations' (Kewang), televised in
late 1990, follows the fate of two families from the Cultural
Revolution up to the 1980s. One of the most popular series of its
kind, 'Aspirations' featured the loves and tragedies of a
working-class urban family. Most Chinese commentators saw its
immense success as due to nostalgia for the perceived simplicity
and honesty of relationships in China before the introduction of
mercantile competition and money-grubbing. (63) In terms of mass
perceptions of history, there are a number of other noteworthy
elements in the scenario.
The Party and its intrusive organizations are virtually absent,
although the series' creators are careful to make one of their
positive characters a workshop supervisor (Song Dacheng) and
solid Party member. In the early episodes set during the Cultural
Revolution, politics is kept in the background with the merest
hint coming from the (background) 'red noise' of radio
editorials, street broadcasts and tattered
dazibao
. Political language is only used in an ironic or sarcastic
fashion; no street committees or their old ladies pry into the
lives of a family that literally picks up a child on the street
and fails to inform any authorities that they are keeping her.
Nor are there any personnel files, Party committees or security
offices; and there is no mention of the endless political
campaigns that, if nothing else, would have impinged on lives
through propaganda blackboards, meetings and study sessions. The
intellectuals suffer as a result of vaguely defined Cultural
Revolution policies, but none of the massive social and political
prejudice aimed against them is ever verbalized. When the
intellectual father is rehabilitated it is in vague terms. While
this deprives the series of veracity, it makes it politically
acceptable in these sensitive days and to an extent timeless as
well.
One critic noted that the creators of the series had relinquished
an ideal opportunity to attempt a mass media historical
reflection on history from the 1960s to the 1980s. Instead they
chose to play on emotion, abandoning all but the bare bones of
historical detail in favour of a sentimental plot. (64)
Conclusion
In June 1986 Mikhail Gorbachev said that 'if we start trying to
deal with the past, we will dissipate our energy'. (65) However,
by early 1987 his stance had changed, possibly as a result of the
new historical consciousness fostered by the Soviet media. In
February 1987, at a meeting with Soviet journalists, Gorbachev
made the oft-quoted statement that 'there should be no forgotten
names and blank pages [white spots] in Soviet history'. (66) Over
the years the most extraordinary and wide-ranging re-evaluations
of Soviet history have taken place. In China a similar process
began in the late 1970s, and despite numerous political
upheavals, it continues today.
The opposition to exposing and re-evaluating the past in both the
former Soviet Union and China was summed up in the sentiments of
the one-time Politburo member Igor Ligachev who cautioned against
the past as a 'chain of errors', (67) as well as historians who
saw a crucial function of history as being to inculcate 'among
the younger people a sense of historical responsibility for and
pride in their homeland, in its heroic history and the present
day'. (68)
In China, the elders in the post-1976 Party leadership belong to
the original generation of revolutionaries who founded the
People's Republic. Deng Xiaoping, Chen Yun, Peng Zhen, Li
Xiannian, Bo Yibo, Yang Shangkun, Wang Zhen, and many others were
participants in the major incidents and decisions in the Party's
history, both before and after 1949. The interpretation of these
incidents and decisions therefore often touches on questions
related to the legitimacy of Party rule today. Even when their
direct personal interests are not involved in an issue of
'classical Party history' (1920s, '30s or '40s), the Party
leaders often have 'filial connections' or loyalties to deceased
Party elders, former superiors or friends, and these hidden
connections can still hinder a more frank and complete
re-evaluation.
Against these factors stand the influence of the economic reforms
on the publishing and media industry, as well as the work of
foreign, emigré or dissident writers and historians.
Available to specialists in journals or libraries, or translated
and printed in tabloids and books for the general public, the
introduction of independent views has continued to spread
historical pluralism.
Moreover, as observed, the need to 'woo' Taiwan has helped spur a
re-evaluation of Chiang Kaishek and the Nationalist Party, in
particular with regard to their role in the war against the
Japanese. Some of the Communist Party's most important claims to
being the sole representative of nationalism are linked to that
war. Until the mid-1980s the Nationalist war effort, which was
considerable, was ignored or distorted. Since then books and
films in which the Nationalists are portrayed as patriotic heroes
have abounded. (69) This has led to radical changes in popular
perceptions of the past and therefore helped clear the way to
creating a positive view of Taiwan today, and of everything the
island represents: democratization, a market economy, and so on.
What essentially originated in the early 1980s as a political
ploy to bring the Nationalists to the negotiating table has had
an unexpected and unsettling effect on the Mainland.
In preparation for the reunification of Hong Kong with the
Mainland in 1997, there are indications that the Chinese
authorities are going to launch a propaganda offensive that will
justify in historical terms the steps they want to take with Hong
Kong. In late 1990, for example, the British authorities in the
territory were cautioned to be careful as to how they
commemorated the ceding of Hong Kong in the 19th century, and
much was made in the Mainland media of the 150th anniversary of
the Opium War.
During the 1989 Protest Movement, one group of writers in
Shanghai called directly for an independent right to history. In
a petition in support of the students in Beijing signed on 13
May, they said:
Writers must have the freedom to analyse, explain and publish
their views on all aspects of Chinese reality both historical and
present, in particular political incidents. For a Party official
to use his position or administrative powers to restrict or
interfere with writers or deprive them of their freedom of
expression or of publication is not only an abuse of power, but
illegal. (70)
While the sprouts of independent historiography have appeared in
China, both in specialized and public forums, the approach of
most writers is still influenced by the dictum of 'using the past
to serve the present'. Various schools of thought, factions and
lobbies tend to see their writings in terms of how it can reflect
and influence their contemporaries. It may still be some time
before we see the emergence of a school of historiography -
either academic or popular - devoted to 'history for history's
sake'. In the meantime, most writers of popular history are
consoling themselves with making a fast buck.
HISTORY FOR THE MASSES
, Geremie R. Barmé
(from Jonathan Unger, ed.,
Using the Past to Serve the Present
, M.E. Sharpe, Inc., Armonk, NY, 1993. Reproduced with permission
from the author.)
*My thanks to Linda Jaivin and Jonathan Unger for their
comments on this chapter.
[For full notes, see Jonathan Unger, ed.,
Using the Past to Serve the Present
, M.E. Sharpe, Inc., Armonk, NY, 1993.]