The Thought Cathedral

by Nathan Williams

  “By the time I left Shanghai in 1967, the city was a shell of its former self—of what it had been prior to the Revolution. In the bigger cities, such as Shanghai, there were still a substantial number of people who disagreed with Mao and preferred that China take a path toward capitalism. Many of these people worked in the city government. These were people who were not necessarily Party members, but who were still responsible for the daily maintenance of the city government and, therefore, had enough influence to dent Mao’s progress toward communism. Additionally, one of the major political parties, the Shanghai City Committee of the Party, was a powerful party in Shanghai. This organization, directly or indirectly, controlled ninety percent of the manufacturing plants in the city. The City Committee picked the directors of these plants and chose what was manufactured in them. It turned out that most of the members were also pro-capitalist and actively working against Mao and his revolution.”

  “How were they working against Mao?”

  “They were working against Mao because they were promoting ‘middle-class tendencies’ by incentivizing their work force, providing openings for and promoting workers into higher level positions, and sometimes even directing plant managers to manufacture items that contradicted orders coming from the Party.

  “Part of our job as Red Guardsmen was to go in and purge these managers on orders from senior Communist Party members. Mao knew it was critical to address this threat, not only because of the realities of keeping local business and government functioning but, even more so, because of the perception this created among the masses that the Party’s influence was waning. This created a bizarre situation throughout Shanghai in which countless factories appeared to be alive with activity from the outside, as the machines were often kept running, but were in reality vacant on the inside with no actual production happening. These purges of workers, which I will admit to having a hand in as a guard member, ultimately resulted in a serious reduction in production throughout the city.

  “I should say that, despite the problems in the factories,” Li continued, “as a whole, government services remained intact and were quite functional for the duration of the revolution. Thus, the revolution was a war about ideas and winning the hearts of the people of China and about China finding a national identity for itself much more than it was a physical war. Between the Cultural Revolution and the Great Leap Forward, there were many millions of deaths. But it was a brutal period for reasons other than just the deaths.”

  “Can you explain this war of ideas? And why was it so brutal?”

  “It was psychologically and culturally brutal,” Li said.

  Okay, you’ve got my attention, Ambassador.

  “The purpose of the revolution was to enforce communism by removing elements of capitalism. As I mentioned earlier, this requires the complete submission of a person’s desire for personal wealth in favor of the welfare of society as a whole and, realistically, his or her ego. This is a lot to ask. But it didn’t stop there. Mao was asking for more. He was asking for nothing less than the usurping of the traditions and other cultural elements in Chinese society that had previously served to define it.”

  Lee found herself taking a deep breath and a moment to reflect on what that meant.

  “What do you mean by ‘traditions and cultural elements’?”

  “For example, Mao denounced Confucianism, the ancient system of ideas and rules which had for centuries provided a framework for Chinese to live their lives by. Many of the rules, customs, and values that Chinese people had lived by came from Confucianism and its evolution over many hundreds of years. Cultural and religious sites across all of China were defaced or destroyed. Young Maoists vandalized cemeteries. A deliberate effort was made to destroy the ancient burial customs as well as the ancient urns and ornaments used in this process. Young Maoists were plundering and desecrating the graves of their ancestors as part of a determined campaign to end such family ties. Thousands of graves in villages spread throughout China were destroyed. Mao’s thoroughness was such that he even sent commandos out to roam the countryside, whose purpose was to combat outmoded superstitions of various sorts.

  “Also, most schools and universities were closed and all cultural events were permanently cancelled. There were no longer any performances of the theater, opera, or motion pictures; no lectures or club events, evening gatherings, or afternoons of song; no sports events or training sessions in such sports as football or boxing were allowed; no circuses, cabarets, or riding tournaments. Even romance was discouraged.”

  “Romance was discouraged?” Lee asked.

  “Yes, to a large extent,” Li explained. “Romantic excitement between the sexes was, generally, subject to condemnation.”

  Lee was incredulous at this thought. “Condemnation is a strong word, Ambassador Li. I don’t understand this condemnation of love. Why was this accepted?”

  “It was accepted as an extension of falling in line with Maoism, which was Mao’s specific brand of communism. It was accepted as a necessary and voluntary subjugation of personal feelings in favor of the welfare of society as a whole.”

  “So, intimate love between a man and a woman was deemphasized in favor of love of society—of country.”

  “I think that’s a fair statement,” Li said. “I don’t want to give the impression that relationships were entirely off-limits. But it was driven in through governmental influence, through systems of reward and punishment, to always place your personal happiness below that of society as a whole.”

  “What was allowed then?” Lee asked.

  “The only cultural events allowed were—”

  Lee heard a muted sound coming from the hallway on the other side of the room divider. The door that had previously been shut was opening. Appearing in the hallway was a man of Chinese ancestry. He was tall and thin, but clearly had a wiry strength to him. His facial hair was cut into a Fu Manchu. He was dressed in a black business suit.

  The man nodded a greeting to the ambassador as he shut the door. The ambassador acknowledged him with a subtle nod as the man progressed silently down the hallway and, presumably, out the front entrance of the apartment.

  “As I was saying,” the ambassador said, “the only cultural events were the wallpapers placed in various places throughout the city, and there were also performances based on the works of Mao.”

  “What exactly were the wallpapers?”

  “The wallpapers were like newspapers. They were placed there typically by the Red Guards. They generally contained local news items and other propaganda. It provided a place for the citizenry to criticize the government and the Party.”

  Lee thought again about these ideas for a few moments. Something else the ambassador had said was bothering her.

  System of rewards and punishments.

  “What did you mean by a ‘system of rewards and punishments’?”

  “When I say that Mao’s government used a system of rewards and punishments, I don’t mean it as a formal system of rules that was in writing. Mao enforced his values informally using means that were more subtle but, I think, more powerful.

  “The first thing he did was simply to saturate Chinese society with himself and his ideas. He placed photos of himself everywhere in public. He provided constant reinforcement of his political beliefs and value system upon the Chinese population, which was impossible to escape. For example, throughout Shanghai and indeed in cities throughout China, a constant stream of Mao quotations was kept running through loudspeakers. This went on all day long, every single day. It never ceased until late at night. Additionally, the Red Guards were a constant presence, distributing Mao’s Red Book to the population and keeping a close eye on people intent on propagating subversive, anti-communist ideology.

  “If the Red Guards or the Party determined a citizen to be a member of a suspect class, such as those related to former landlords or rich peasants or otherwise considered subversive or revisionist, that citizen was subject to such th
ings as seizure of property, public humiliation, arbitrary imprisonment, denial of medical care, erasure of social identity, or torture. Many people were sent to re-education camps in order to be ‘rehabilitated.’”

  “Rehabilitated?”

  “Yes. Brought back into belief in the Maoist orthodoxy.”

  Lee thought for a few moments about Ambassador Li’s descriptions of China during the Cultural Revolution. How could this happen? How could so many accept this life…this government?

  Chapter 8

  New York City

  Tuesday, January 27, 6:47 p.m. EST

  The ambassador waited patiently for Lee, his face frozen like the porcelain statuette resting atop the end table.

  “I don’t understand—” Lee’s voice trailed off.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t understand how so many people would just accept this Maoist ideology?”

  The ambassador smiled. A smile that reflected…what? Arrogance?No! Not arrogance. Pity.

  “Most people accepted it without hesitation,” Li said.

  “Without hesitation?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  Li seemed to sense her incredulity.

  “You have to understand, Ms. Lee, the level of influence Mao had with the Chinese people. He was beloved. No, not just beloved. Mao was a demi-god.”

  “A…demi-god?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Li smiled at her again. That same look of pity.

  “Tell me, Ambassador. How did Mao achieve such a level of influence with the Chinese people?”

  Lee could hear a soft gasp come from Li, almost imperceptible.

  “Hmmmm. Well, how do I begin to answer that question?”

  Li was still thinking through how to clarify his thoughts when Biyu re-entered the room.

  “I have dinner ready. Can you all come to the table now?”

  Li smiled again, a softer smile this time.

  “Okay, my wife has rescued me once again. Don’t fear, Ms. Lee. I’ll be sure to answer your question over dinner.”

  The three of them followed Biyu out of the living area where they had been sitting, made a left turn, and passed through the same hallway they’d taken earlier. It led them further into the apartment. As they walked, she passed by another living area with three sofas situated in a U pattern around a square-shaped coffee table made of a dark reddish-brown teak wood. The base of the table was carved into a Chinese dragon, the dragon curled into a ball, at rest. Behind two of the sofas were two more paintings of men who she presumed were Chinese VIPs. In one corner, next to the sofa facing toward her, was an end table constructed of the same teak wood as the coffee table, except that it was carved into the shape of a tiger with nine human heads. In the other corner, across from the sofa, was a tall plant with large leaves sprouting out of a large red pot. The plant pot matched the red and gold color theme throughout the apartment. This choice of color didn’t surprise Lee. She knew enough of Chinese culture to know that red was representative of good luck. Gold, a sign of wealth and happiness, was also traditionally used to signify imperial service.

  “Please, have a seat,” Biyu said, as she led them past the room with the three sofas into a small dining room. The kitchen was adjacent to the dining room, across the little hallway.

  “We have two living rooms in here,” Li said, “because we host visitors a lot. It’s part of the job.”

  The three of them sat down around the table, while Biyu disappeared into the kitchen.

  Lee had expected the meal to be carried out with all of the customs she would expect at a meal in Beijing or Shanghai. However, her fears proved to be unfounded. The utensils were the same found in any American restaurant and the food was even served buffet style. Biyu had them bring their plates into the kitchen to gather the food: a chicken casserole, salad, steamed vegetables, and bread rolls.

  “Our guests are usually more comfortable doing things by Western customs,” Li explained.

  They ate in silence for a few moments before Xiang, who’d been mostly silent until this point, inquired about the health and status of Li’s relatives in Shanghai. She’d forgotten about Li’s admission earlier that they were family friends.

  It pays to have connections in China, Lee thought.

  Li and Xiang chatted mostly in English out of respect to Lee, although they sometimes slipped into Chinese in a dialect she couldn’t understand. Despite this fact, she was able to discern that Li and Xiang both had large families still in Shanghai and certain members of their families had, many years ago, committed themselves as partners to building a construction and electrical business together. Li’s family, in particular, was well-connected with more than one family member, a brother and a nephew, holding powerful positions within the Communist Party in Shanghai.

  The room fell into a brief silence before Li addressed her again.

  “May I ask, Ms. Lee, how did your family get to America?”

  It was a question that caught Lee by surprise.

  “Well, it’s kind of a long story.”

  Li smiled warmly.

  He’s charismatic, Lee thought, in reference to Li. She then glanced at Xiang, slender and confident. They both are.

  Xiang said, “We’re both curious about your story. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. To be honest, it’s a little sketchy to me, but I can tell you what I know. I guess I would have to begin with my great-grandfather Wei Lee. He grew up in Beijing during the early part of the twentieth century. My understanding is that he was the son of a wealthy landowner who protected him—kept him out of harm’s way and away from the fighting between the warlords and all of the turbulence in Beijing at the time. He eventually attended a progressive high school modeled after schools in Europe.

  “It was at this school that he was introduced to some liberal ideas, including theories that had been proposed by Marx and Lenin. This is where he was introduced to the idea of communism. He and his friends, who’d been introduced to socialist ideas as well, formed an informal study group within the school which eventually helped him to make contacts with likeminded people in Beijing. He graduated at the top of his class and, through his connections within the study group, was selected to study overseas in Europe in a work-study program to further develop his ideas on government and resolution of social issues.”

  Li’s eyes widened. “A work-study program? What year did he attend?”

  “We’re not exactly sure, but we think it was around 1920 or so,” Lee said.

  “Was it the Mouvemente Travail-Études?” Li asked.

  “Yes, I believe so. I’ve heard that name before.”

  Li turned to Xiang with an odd look on his face.

  “Can you imagine this, Xiang! Her great-grandfather was there with the titans! With Mao and Zhou Enlai! I couldn’t have imagined!”

  “I’m not sure what the Mouvemente Travail-Études was. Can you enlighten me?” Lee asked.

  “It was as you said it was,” Li said. “It was a work-study program started by a number of Chinese leaders of the day. The purpose of the program was to send promising students overseas to study in Europe. The idea was for the students to learn methods of governing from a variety of different places in Europe so that they could be applied in China. Several men who would eventually found the Chinese Communist Party were in that same program, including Mao himself!”

  “I didn’t realize that.”

  “What happened after the work-study program?” Xiang asked.

  Lee said, “Well, it turns out that he never returned to China.”

  “Oh? What happened?” Li asked.

  “My understanding is that he completed most of his studies in Paris. He ended up meeting a young woman—my great-grandmother—during his stay in France. When his peers returned to China, he was not on the boat with them.”

  “And the fate of China has never been the same!” Li said. Li had a broad smile on his face.

  Lee smiled. “Yes, I suppos
e not.”

  “Did your great grandparents live in Paris the rest of their lives?”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “So, who in your family were the ones who came to America?”

  “It was Wei’s son and his wife. It was in the late 1950s when they came to New York. The family has been here ever since.”

  “Well, that’s quite a story, Ms. Lee. Did you ever meet your great-grandfather?”

  “No, unfortunately, he passed on before I was born.”

  “Was your great-grandmother of Chinese ancestry?”

  “No, she was French. She was the daughter of a professor at a university in Paris.”

  “Very interesting,” Li said.

  Li and Xiang began a spirited conversation between the two of them. Biyu made another brief entrance to inquire on their progress and offer dessert. Not wanting to appear ungrateful, Lee accepted a piece of chocolate cheesecake. As Xiang and the ambassador conversed, she finished her cake, since she couldn’t understand their conversation. Something in their tone made her think they were negotiating something. Suddenly, there was a break in their conversation and they ate in silence for a few moments.

  “Ms. Lee—”

  “Yes, Ambassador.”

  “I want to thank you for accepting our invitation.”

  “Thanks for inviting me,” Lee said, glancing from Li back to Xiang and back to Li.

  “Our purpose for inviting you tonight was, indeed, because I was interested in getting to know you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But really it was because we wanted to make you an offer.”

  “An…offer?”

  For a brief moment, she thought they might somehow know of her involvement with the FBI. Had they sent someone to follow her? She froze in terror.

  “Yes, Ms. Lee. An offer from one family to another.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Between the two of us, both Xiang and I, we have two relatives interested in coming to America. I have a granddaughter. Her name is Ming. Xiang has a cousin by the name of Cheng who also wants to come to America. We can get them here—to New York. They both trained as cooks at a school in Beijing and are interested in possibly opening a restaurant together. The two of us, Xiang and I, feel your family could be of great help to us. We thought you might provide help, with your family’s contacts with suppliers and such, with getting a new restaurant off the ground. We thought you might be able to assist also with getting start-up money or credit to help finance it.”