Anchee Min - Becoming Madame Mao

The girl trembles as she finishes her speech. The title is "The Devil's Soul-In Denouncing My Father Liu Shao-qi." The effect is overwhelming. The story of the Lius' corruption spreads overnight. Colored by rumor and fueled by imagination the monstrous details travel from ear to ear. Cartoons illustrating the Lius as bloodsuckers are all over China's walls and buildings. The couple are described as traitors and Western agents since their cradle days.

August 25. Kuai Da-fu leads five thousand Red Guards to spread leaflets for the upcoming event called "Trial of the Lius." Kuai Da-fu marches across Tiananmen Square and shouts through the amplifiers, Down, smash, boil and fry Liu Shao-qi and his partner Deng Xiao-ping!

I am sitting in the greenroom of the Beijing Worker's Stadium. It is eight o'clock in the morning. The stadium is packed with forty thousand Red Guards, students, workers, peasants and soldiers. I have come to test my power. Kuai Da-fu has been in the front cheerleading the crowds. The sound is ear-blasting.

Kuai Da-fu has been holding over fifty members of the congress and Politburo hostage. Among them the mayor of Beijing, the head of the Cultural Bureau, and Luo Rei-qing, the former minister of national defense. They are the men who believe that they needn't respect me because their loyalty toward Mao will make him back them in the event of misunderstanding. Well, we'll see.

Luo Rei-qing is in a manure basket. His leg is broken. He had resisted arrest by jumping off a building. Two Red Guards now carry him up with a shoulder-pole. He looks like an old goat being carried to market. Madame Mao Jiang Ching hears a burst of laughter from the crowd. On the makeshift stage, her enemies are lined up. Their hands are cuffed in the back. Kuai Da-fu gives each subject a dunce cap with his name written on it and crossed out by dripping black ink. In the meantime the crowd sings Mao's teaching: Revolution is not a dinner party. Revolution is violence.

She has told Kuai Da-fu that Mao is happy with his achievements. Although she didn't say that Mao wants the men harmed, Kuai Da-fu has figured out what Mao would like to have done.

I shout slogans with Kuai Da-fu. Mao's teaching is thunder that splits the sky and a volcano that breaks the ocean bed! Mao's teaching is truth!

Mao has let me see the secret of ruling. Marshal Peng De-huai was a loyalist who once played a key role in establishing the republic. However, Mao told me that it didn't mean that Peng wouldn't turn into an assassin. Mao's ability to adapt to emotional change keeps him safe all these years. I don't see him suffer regrets. He is convinced that heartlessness is the price he has to pay.

She spellbinds the audience. Five hundred thousand Red Guards all over the country are at her command. They are more powerful than the soldiers. They are free-spirited and creative. The meeting lasts for four hours. It ends with the men ridiculed and beaten up. The stubborn Luo lost both of his legs.

Don't stop until we drive the enemies off the edge! Madame Mao shouts hysterically in the greenroom. She is excited and frightened at the same time. Kang Sheng has told her that there are serious rumors going around that her enemies will "finish Mao's woman in her own bed." Kang Sheng has traced the source to the military; this panics Madame Mao even more. The "old boys" like Marshal Ye Jian-ying, Chen Yi, Xu Xiang-qian and Nie Rong-zhen are Vice Chairman Liu's close friends. They are frustrated with Mao's elusive behavior. The anger is so great that the atmosphere in Beijing smokes. The word "kill" is in the air. It is a tradition to make an unfit emperor's concubine the victim. Killing her would teach the emperor a lesson. The tragic love story between Emperor Tang and Concubine Yang is a classic. Killing the woman is a proven method for healing relationships between warlords.

I am learning to kill. I am trying not to shake. There is no middle ground, I tell myself. Kill or be killed. On February 10, 1967, a congressional meeting takes place. The string between the oppositions tightens. The focus is whether or not to acknowledge my leadership in the army; whether Kuai Da-fu and his Red Guards are allowed to open branch offices in the army, and whether the students should be permitted to organize rallies to criticize the army heads. All meetings end up with each side banging the table. Later on a secret letter of petition signed by the "old boys" is delivered to Mao by Marshal Tan Zhen-lin.

I am sure Tan has never imagined that I would get a chance to read the letter. But I do. Mao shows it to me voluntarily. In the letter I am described as a "white-boned demon," a bloodsucker and a bad cloud hanging over the sky of the Communist Party. I am demanded as a sacrifice.

You are left with no choice, Mao says, flipping himself in his indoor swimming pool. He looks like a fat otter. Too much pork with sugar and soy sauce, I think to myself.

What are you going to do? he asks, floating. Marshal Tan says that he has never cried, but now is crying for the Party.

I look around trying to find a place to sit, but there are no chairs. I haven't been to the pool since its renovation. I don't know what Tan means, I say.

Mao dives into the water and then resurfaces. Why don't we read his letter one more time, then?

He is quitting the Party's membership. And he has done three things he regrets in life.

One?

That he is living today…

He is ashamed.

Second, he regrets following you and that he became a revolutionary; and third…

He regrets ever joining the Communist Party.

Precisely, Chairman.

Mao rolls over and swims with his belly up. It makes him look like he is holding a ball. He closes his eyes and continues to float. After a while he swims toward the edge.

I watch him climb out. The water falls from him in silver streams. He has gained a tremendous amount of weight. The muscles are puffy on his chest and arms. Below his swelling belly, his legs are extremely thin. He picks up a towel and steps into gray shorts.

Call Premier Zhou to arrange a meeting. I'll talk to the old boys on the eighteenth. By the way I want you to join me. Lin Biao and his wife too.

My sky brightens-Mao is picking up the gun himself.

I call up Kang Sheng and Chun-qiao to celebrate the news.

The meeting of historical significance opens on the evening of February 18, 1967. Premier Zhou is the host. Lin's wife Ye and I come early along with Kang Sheng, Chun-qiao and his disciple Yiao Wen-yuan. We sit on the left side of a long table with Mao and Premier Zhou on each end. We are all dressed in the People's Liberation Army uniform.

I am excited and a little nervous. I worry that I don't look tough enough. Ye is better. She is a typical military wife who can bang the table louder than her husband. Since Mao wants Lin to be his successor, Ye has been acting like a second lady. She is careful with me, though. She has learned Wang Guang-mei's lesson. She compliments me on every occasion and invites me to speak at the Institute of the People's Liberation Army. She shows her appreciation.

Ye reminds me of a midwife in my village who powdered her skin with flour in order to make herself look like a city woman with pale skin. Ye never tells me about her background. She avoids the subject when I ask. She is not proud of her origin. I am sure it's low. I am glad that she doesn't speak foreign languages and I am glad that she doesn't like to read. I selfishly feel blessed that she acts a fool when speaking in front of the public. She is a lousy speaker. She once told me that every time she gets up on the stage she gets diarrhea afterwards.

I have been thinking that if I play the game right Ye can be a perfect supporting actress. Her stupidity serves as a foil to my intelligence. For that I am willing to help her. Getting to know her will also make it easier to destroy her in the future if necessary. After all I have no idea how the Lins will treat me after Mao passes away. It won't be hard for them to find an excuse and get rid of me. I am trusting nobody.