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1、LIFE AND DEATH IN SHANGHAI Nien Cheng Praise for Life and Death in Shanghai: “Far from depressing, it is almost exhilarating to witness her mind do battle. Even in English, the keenness of her thought and expression is such that it constitutes some form of martial art, enabling her time and again to
2、 absorb the force of her interrogators logic and turn it to her own advantage.” Christopher Lehmann-Haupt, The New York Times “A triumph of the human spirit Here is the most stunning human document out of China since the Cultural Revolutionperhaps since the Revolution itself.” Clifton Fadiman “A har
3、rowing story of personal suffering and tragedy, and at the same time a savage and compelling indictment of Mao Zedongs Cultural Revolution, if not of Chinese communism itself an extraordinary testament to human brutality.” Elena Brunet, Los Angeles Times “Her book is unquestionably one of the best e
4、ver written about the Cultural Revolution.” Houston Chronicle “An almost unbearably vivid picture of personal suffering and triumph.” Chicago Tribune Copyright . 1986 by Nein Cheng All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, inclu
5、ding information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Scanning, uploading, and electronic distribution of this book or the facilitation of such without the permission of the publisher is prohi
6、bited. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the authors rights is appreciated. Any member of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or
7、anthology, should send inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 or . Printed in the United States of America E-Book ISBN: 978-0-8021-9615-6 Designed by Irving Perkins Associates Grove Press an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc. 841 Broadway New York, NY 10003 Distributed by P
8、ublishers Group West To Meiping AUTHORS NOTE THIS BOOK is a factual account of what happened to me during the Cultural Revolution. The events are recorded in chronological order, just as they occurred. Every word spoken at the time, the reader will soon understand, was vitally important. Indeed, my
9、survival depended on what was said to and by me. I had ample time again and again to recall scenes and conversations in a continuing effort to assess their significance. As a consequence, they are indelibly etched on my memory, and my book, including the words quoted as direct discourse, is as nearl
10、y as possible a faithful account of my experiences. With some reluctance, I use in this book the now standard pinyin system for the transliteration of most of the Chinese names. Among the few exceptions are such old, familiar forms as Hong Kong (pinyin: Xianggang) and Kuomintang (Guomin-dang), and m
11、y husbands, my daughters, and my own name (Zheng), which I prefer to continue to spell in English as I have done for more than fifty years. Contents I THE WIND OF REVOLUTION 1 Witch-hunt 2 Interval before the Storm 3 The Red Guards 4 House Arrest II THE DETENTION HOUSE 5 Solitary Confinement 6 Inter
12、rogation 7 The January Revolution and Military Control 8 Party Factions 9 Persecution Continued 10 My Brothers Confession 11 A Kind of Torture 12 Release III MY STRUGGLE FOR JUSTICE 13 Where Is Meiping? 14 The Search for the Truth 15 A Student Who Was Different 16 The Death of Mao 17 Rehabilitation
13、18 Farewell to Shanghai Epilogue Index Abstract From Publishers Weekly This gripping account of a woman caught up in the maelstrom of Chinas Cultural Revolution begins quietly. In 1966, only the merest rumblings of political upheaval disturbed the gracious life of the author, widow of the manager of
14、 Shell Petroleum in China. As the rumblings fast became a cataclysm, Cheng found herself a target of the revolution: Red Guards looted her home, literally grinding underfoot her antique porcelain and jade treasures; and she was summarily imprisoned, falsely accused of espionage. Despite harsh privat
15、ion even torture she refused to confess and was kept in solitary confinement for over six years, suffering deteriorating health and mounting anxiety about the fate of her only child, Meiping. When the political climate softened, and she was released, Cheng learned that her fears were justified: Meip
16、ing had been beaten to death when she refused to denounce her mother. The candor and intimacy of this affecting memoir make it addictive reading. Its intelligence, passion and insight assure its place among the distinguished voices of our age proclaiming the ascendancy of the human spirit over tyran
17、ny. Cheng is now a U.S. resident. I THE WIND OF REVOLUTION 1 Witch-hunt THE PAST IS FOREVER with me and I remember it all. I now move back in time and space to a hot summers night in July 1966, to the study of my old home in Shanghai. My daughter was asleep in her bedroom, the servants had gone to t
18、heir quarters, and I was alone in my study. I hear again the slow whirling of the ceiling fan overhead; I see the white carnations drooping in the heat in the white Qianlong vase on my desk. Bookshelves line the walls in front of me, filled with English and Chinese titles. The shaded reading lamp le
19、aves half the room in shadows, but the silk brocade of the red cushions on the white sofa gleams vividly. An English friend, a frequent visitor to my home in Shanghai, once called it “an oasis of comfort and elegance in the midst of the citys drabness.” Indeed, my house was not a mansion, and by Wes
20、tern standards, it was modest. But I had spent time and thought to make it a home and a haven for my daughter and myself so that we could continue to enjoy good taste while the rest of the city was being taken over by proletarian realism. Not many private people in Shanghai lived as we did seventeen
21、 years after the Communist Party took over China. In this city of ten million, perhaps only a dozen or so families managed to preserve their old lifestyle, maintaining their original homes and employing a staff of servants. The Party did not decree how the people should live. In fact, in 1949, when
22、the Communist army entered Shanghai, we were forbidden to discharge our domestic staff lest we aggravate the unemployment problem. But the political campaigns that periodically convulsed the country rendered many formerly wealthy people poor. When they became victims, they were forced to pay large f
23、ines or had their income drastically reduced. And many industrialists were relocated inland with their families when their factories were removed from Shanghai. I did not voluntarily change my way of life, not only because I had the means to maintain my standard of living, but also because the Shang
24、hai municipal government treated me with courtesy and consideration through its United Front Organization. However, my daughter and I lived quietly, with circumspection. Believing the Communist Revolution a historical inevitability for China, we were prepared to go along with it. The reason I am so
25、often carried back to those few hours before midnight on July 3, 1966, is not only that I look back with nostalgia upon my old life with my daughter but mainly that they were the last few hours of normal life I was to enjoy for many years. The heat lay like a heavy weight on the city even at night.
26、No breeze came through the open windows. My face and arms were damp with perspiration, and my blouse was clammy on my back as I bent over the newspapers spread on my desk reading the articles of vehement denunciation that always preceded action at the beginning of a political movement. The propagand
27、a effort was supposed to create a suitable atmosphere of tension and mobilize the public. Often careful reading of those articles, written by activists selected by Party officials, yielded hints as to the purpose of the movement and its possible victims. Because I had never been involved in a politi
28、cal movement before, I had no premonition of impending personal disaster. But as was always the case, the violent language used in the propaganda articles made me uneasy. My servant Lao-zhao had left a thermos of iced tea for me on a tray on the coffee table. As I drank the refreshing tea, my eyes s
29、trayed to a photograph of my late husband. Nearly nine years had passed since he died, but the void his death left in my heart remained. I always felt abandoned and alone whenever I was uneasy about the political situation, as I felt the need for his support. I had met my husband when he was working
30、 for his Ph.D. degree in London in 1935. After we were married and returned to Chongqing, Chinas wartime capital, in 1939, he became a diplomatic officer of the Kuomintang government. In 1949, when the Communist army entered Shanghai, he was director of the Shanghai office of the Ministry of Foreign
31、 Affairs of the Kuomintang government. When the Communist representative, Zhang Hanfu, took over his office, Zhang invited him to remain with the new government during the transitional period as foreign affairs adviser to the newly appointed mayor of Shanghai, Marshal Chen Yi. In the following year,
32、 he was allowed to leave the Peoples Government and accept an offer from Shell International Petroleum Company to become the general manager of its Shanghai office. Shell was one of the few British firms of international standingsuch as Imperial Chemical Industries, Hong KongCShanghai Banking Corpor
33、ation, and Jardinesthat tried to maintain an office in Shanghai. Because Shell was the only major oil company in the world wishing to remain in mainland China, the Party officials who favored trade with the West treated the company and ourselves with courtesy. In 1957, my husband died of cancer. A B
34、ritish general manager was appointed to succeed him. I was asked by Shell to become his assistant with the title of adviser to management. I worked in that capacity until 1966. Successive British general managers depended on me to steer the company clear of the many pitfalls that often surrounded a
35、capitalist enterprise maintaining an office in Maoist China. It was up to me to find ways to resolve problems without either sacrificing the dignity of Shell or causing the Chinese officials to lose face. My job was to manage the staff and act as liaison between the general manager and the Shell Lab
36、or Union, analyzing the union demands and working out compromises. I drafted the companys more important correspondence with the Chinese government agencies, which had to be in the Chinese language. Whenever the general manager went on home leave or to Beijing for talks with Chinese government corpo
37、rations, I acted as general manager. I thought myself fortunate to have a job I could do well and enjoyed the distinction of being the only woman in Shanghai occupying a senior position in a company of world renown. In the spring of 1966, Shell closed its Shanghai office after negotiating an “Assets
38、 against Liability Agreement” with a Chinese government agency. We handed over our assets in China, and the Chinese government agency took over our staff with the commitment to give them employment and provide retirement pensions. As a member of management, I was not included in the agreement; its s
39、cope was limited to our staff who belonged to the Shell Labor Union, a branch of the Shanghai Labor Union, which is a government organization for the control of industrial and office workers. When the agreement was signed, my daughter, a young actress of the Shanghai Film Studio, was performing with
40、 her unit in North China. I thought I would make a trip to Hong Kong when she came back. But while I was waiting for her return, the Cultural Revolution was launched. My daughters group was hastily summoned back to Shanghai by the film studio to enable its members to take part in the Cultural Revolu
41、tion. Since I knew that during a political movement government officials were reluctant to make decisions and that work in government departments generally slowed down, if not came to a complete standstill, I decided not to apply for a travel permit to Hong Kong and risk a refusal. A refusal would g
42、o into the personal dossier that the police kept on everyone. It might make future application difficult. So I remained in Shanghai, believing the Cultural Revolution would last no longer than a year, the usual length of time for a political campaign. The tea cooled me somewhat. I got up to go into
43、my bedroom next door, had a shower, and lay down on my bed. In spite of the heat, I dropped off to sleep. The next thing I knew, Chen-ma, my maid, was gently shaking me to wake me up. I looked at the clock on my bedside table. It was only half past six, but sunlight was already on the awning outside
44、 the windows, and the temperature in the room was rising. “Qi and another man from your old office have come to see you,” Chen-ma said. “What do they want?” I asked her drowsily. “They didnt say. But they behaved in a very unusual manner. They marched straight into the living room and sat down on th
45、e sofa instead of waiting in the hall as they used to do before the office closed.” “Who is the other man?” I asked as I headed for the bathroom. Qi, I knew, was the vice-chairman of our office branch of the Shanghai Labor Union. I had often conducted negotiations with him as part of my job. He had
46、seemed a nice man: reasonable and conciliatory. “I dont know his name. He hasnt been here before. I think he may be one of the guards,” Chen-ma said. “Hes tall and thin.” From Chen-mas description, I thought the man was one of the activists of the Shell union. We had no Party members. From the way t
47、he few activists in our office behaved, I knew they were encouraged to act as watchdogs for the Shanghai Labor Union. Since I had no direct contact with the activists, who were mostly guards or cleaners, I learned of their activities mainly from the department heads. There was a knock on the door. L
48、ao-zhao, my manservant, handed Chen-ma a tray and said through the half-open door, “They say the mistress must hurry.” “All right, Lao-zhao,” I said. “Tell them Ill be down presently. Give them a cold drink and some cigarettes.” I did not hurry. I wanted time to think and be ready to cope with whate
49、ver was coming. The visit of these two men at this early hour of the morning was unusual. However, in China, when one had to attend a meeting to hear a lecture or political indoctrination, one was seldom told in advance. The officials assumed that everybody should drop everything whenever called upo
50、n to do so. I wondered whether these two men had come to ask me to join one of their political indoctrination lectures. I knew the Shanghai Labor Union was organizing classes for the ex-staff of Shell so that they could be prepared for their assignment to work with lower pay in government organizati
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