Fanshen

by Hinton, William ; Magdoff, Fred;

  ***********

  By the middle of March, when all the “fruits” had been distributed, the landless and land-poor found themselves living in an entirely new world. Two hundred and forty-two acres of land had been allocated to the families in this group, thereby doubling the acreage in their possession. Their holdings had jumped from an average of .44 acres per capita, to an average of .83 acres per capita. This amount of land did not make them wealthy by any means, but it was sufficient to maintain a minimum standard of living. It meant that they had moved from the ragged edge of starvation into relative security. Peasants who formerly grew only half enough to live on and had to work out or rent land for the remainder of their subsistence suddenly became peasants who could raise enough to live on, on their own land.

  What was true of land was also true of other means of production. Families who had not possessed adequate shelter, draft animals, implements, and seed grain became families who owned all these things in sufficent quantity to maintain life. This happened not to just a few individuals but to more than half the population of the village. A hundred and forty families with 517 members “turned over” economically in the course of this movement.

  The impact of this shift on the outlook and morale of the landless and land poor was tremendous. For the first time in their lives they felt some measure of control over their destiny. They slept under their own roofs, walked on their own land, planted their own seed, looked forward to harvesting their own crops and, what was perhaps best of all, owed neither grain nor money to any man. They were completely free of debt.

  Shen Fa-liang, the former hired laborer in Sheng Ching-ho’s household, said, “Life is much better than before. Now I have land and house and work to do. There is grain in my house. I work very hard but I enjoy the results of my work because I carry all the results of my work back home and put it in my own jars. But in the past it was just the opposite. I labored very hard regardless of rain or shine, but all that work was for others, not for me. All the crops were very beautiful, but all the crops I had to carry to someone else’s granary. I couldn’t even see them any more, not to mention eating them. So in the past I worked for others. Now I work for myself and no longer suffer the painful life, the unhappy life of working for others.”

  Ch’ung-lai’s wife felt the same way. “In the old days I worked as a servant; I was busy every night until midnight, and I had to get up before dawn. Now I am very busy too, but now I work for myself. This is happy labor. No one oppresses me and the money that I earn is my own. My condition now is good. I’ve got house, land to till, clothes to wear, and the right to speak. Who dared speak before? In the past when I served in other families, even when they didn’t beat or curse me, still, if I committed some trifling error their eyebrows and their eyes met. It is hard to eat with another’s bowl. To live in one’s own house and eat out of one’s own bowl is the happiest life.”

  Wu-k’uei’s wife, a woman who had been forced to sell her son and who had been sold twice herself, summed up her feelings in one sentence:

  “It seems as if I have moved from hell to heaven.”

  Such feelings, when multiplied by 500, made for an atmosphere of extraordinary elation that soon changed even the everyday vocabulary of the village. The peasants all began to call one another “comrade” after the custom of the Eighth Route Army, and in place of the age-old greeting, “Countryman, have you eaten?” many poor peasants asked one another, “Comrade, have you turned over?”* To that question a large number could already answer, “I have turned.”

  16

  Half of China

  How sad it is to be a woman!

  Nothing on earth is held so cheap.

  Boys stand leaning at the door

  Like Gods fallen out of heaven.

  Their hearts brave the Four Oceans,

  The wind and dust of a thousand miles.

  No one is glad when a girl is born:

  By her the family sets no store.

  Fu Hsuan

  WHILE THE dramatic, violent, and often macabre scenes of the “settlement of accounts” and the exuberant, lively, often humorous incidents of the “distribution of the fruits” unfolded like the intricate plot of some day-long Chinese opera, another struggle began whose object was the liberation of women from the oppression of their husbands and from domestic seclusion.

  A few poor peasant women in Long Bow, the wives of leading revolutionary cadres, early organized a Women’s Association where brave wives and daughters-in-law, untrammeled by the presence of their menfolk, could voice their own bitterness against the traitors, encourage their poor sisters to do likewise, and thus eventually bring to the village-wide gatherings the strength of “half of China,” as the more enlightened women, very much in earnest, liked to call themselves. By “speaking pains to recall pains,” the women found that they had as many if not more grievances than the men and that once given a chance to speak in public they were as good at it as their fathers and husbands, as had been proven by Chin-mao’s mother in that first district-wide anti-traitor meeting.

  But the women found as they organized among themselves, attended meetings and entered into public life, that they met more and more opposition from the men, particularly from the men of their own households, most of whom regarded any activity by wives or daughters-in-law outside the home as “steps leading directly to adultery.” Family heads, having paid sound grain for their women, regarded them as their private property, expected them to work hard, bear children, serve their fathers, husbands, and mothers-in-law, and speak only when spoken to. In this atmosphere the activities of the Women’s Association created a domestic crisis in many a family. Not only did the husbands object to their wives going out; the mothers-in-law and fathers-in-law objected even more strenuously. Many young wives who nevertheless insisted on going to meetings were badly beaten up when they got home.

  Among those who were beaten was poor peasant Man-ts’ang’s wife. When she came home from a Women’s Association meeting, her husband beat her as a matter of course, shouting, “I’ll teach you to stay home. I’ll mend your rascal ways.” But Man-ts’ang’s wife surprised her lord and master. Instead of staying home thereafter as a dutiful chattel, she went the very next day to the secretary of the Women’s Association, militiaman Ta-hung’s wife, and registered a complaint against her husband. After a discussion with the members of the executive committee, the secretary called a meeting of the women of the whole village. At least a third, perhaps even half of them, showed up. In front of this unprecedented gathering of determined women a demand was made that Man-ts’ang explain his actions. Man-ts’ang, arrogant and unbowed, readily complied. He said that he beat his wife because she went to meetings and “the only reason women go to meetings is to gain a free hand for flirtation and seduction.”

  This remark aroused a furious protest from the women assembled before him. Words soon led to deeds. They rushed at him from all sides, knocked him down, kicked him, tore his clothes, scratched his face, pulled his hair and pummelled him until he could no longer breathe.

  “Beat her, will you? Beat her, and slander us all, will you? Well, rape your mother. Maybe this will teach you.”

  “Stop, I’ll never beat her again,” gasped the panic-stricken husband who was on the verge of fainting under their blows.

  They stopped, let him up, and sent him home with a warning—let him so much as lay a finger on his wife again and he would receive more of the same “cure.”

  From that day onward Man-ts’ang never dared beat his wife and from that day onward his wife became known to the whole village by her maiden name, Ch’eng Ai-lien, instead of simply by the title of Man-ts’ang’s wife, as had been the custom since time began.

  A few similar incidents, one of which resulted in an errant husband spending two days in the village lockup, soon taught the poor peasant men to be more circumspect in their treatment of their wives, even if it did not teach them to appreciate women in public life any more than t
hey had before.

  The institution of wife beating was, of course, not ended in a few weeks by such means. But having once shown their power the women did not have to beat every man in order to make progress on this question. Thereafter, a serious talk with a strong-armed husband was often enough to make him change his ways, at least for the time being.

  Chou Cheng-fu was a bare poor peasant who got land and house for the first time in the distribution that followed the “settling of accounts.” Land and house made possible the acquisition of a wife. Through a go-between he made a match with a puppet soldier’s widow ten years his junior. Perhaps because of the difference in their ages, Cheng-fu proved to be a very jealous husband. He would not allow his wife out of his sight for even an instant. Over this issue they soon fell to quarrelling. To settle the matter, he beat her, and she, being a woman of some spirit, went to the Women’s Association as Ch’eng Ai-lien had done before. Instead of retaliating against Chou Cheng-fu with sticks and kicks, the women sent a delegation to talk to him. They reminded him how hard it was for a poor peasant to get a wife at all. Once married he ought to treat his woman with great respect, be patient with her, and help her to overcome her mistakes, especially since she was younger than he. If he beat her she would only learn to hate him, their relations would steadily worsen, and in the end she might demand a divorce. In that case he would lose his wife completely. Since Chou Cheng-fu did not like the idea of a divorce he decided to be gentle with his wife thereafter. Later, when he went away to do rear service at the battlefront, he got a literate companion to write a letter thanking the Women’s Association for their help. The letter was written in the formal style used by scholars of the old school: “After I left home I thought it over and realized that you were kind enough to try and help us. Now I know that it is only through mutual love and respect that husband and wife can live happily together and build a good life.”

  When asked if, as a result of these actions, women had yet won equality, one of the leaders of the Association said, “No, not yet. Things are a little better than before. Still, there are beating cases and most men still despise women’s words and think women are no use. We have to struggle for a long time to win equality. When we have land of our own it will help a lot. In the past men always said, ‘You depend on me for a living. You just stay home and eat the things I earn.’ But after women get their share they can say, ‘I got this grain from my own land and I can live without you by my own labor.’ When it comes to labor on the land, women can work just as hard as men even if they are weaker. They can do everything except plowing. They can even hoe if they can’t hoe so fast. But they cannot drive carts. Well, even this they can do, but some of the animals are pretty hard to handle.”

  It was not long before the Women’s Association in some parts of the county set up plowing classes for women, and the fame of those who mastered agricultural labor spread far and wide. A widow in Shen Settlement startled everyone with her strength and skill. She could do everything a man could do and more. She could even push a loaded wheelbarrow on the highway and earn $12 a day, Border Region currency, transporting bricks. She was so skilled at planting that in the spring all the peasants in Shen Settlement wanted her, and no one else, to plant their millet.

  In another village, only five miles from Long Bow, a woman was elected as village head.

  Women such as these were rare, but as news of their exploits spread, others were greatly encouraged.

  It would be very one-sided to imply that the only goal of the Women’s Association was equality for women. Without the successful transformation of society, without the completion of land reform, without a victorious defense of the Liberated Areas against the probing attacks of the Nationalist armies, it was impossible to talk of liberation for women. Many women realized this as if by intuition, and they made the Women’s Association an instrument for mobilizing the power of women behind the revolution in all its aspects—behind the “settling of accounts,” behind the drive for production, and behind the defense effort. Through the Association, classes were organized for literacy and for the study of politics, cotton loans were made to stimulate spinning and weaving, the women were brought together to make uniforms and shoes for the soldiers, and wives and mothers were urged to encourage their husbands, sons, and brothers to enlist in the army.

  All of these activities were intimately linked up with the struggle for equality, with the demand on the part of women that they should no longer be treated as chattels. If this demand alarmed the men, the all-out support which the women gave to over-all revolutionary goals disarmed them and won from them a grudging admiration. In their hearts they had to admit that they could not win without the help of “half of China.”

  17

  Counter Measures

  Men revolted in earlier ages too,

  There’s nothing rare about such an ado.

  Strange things pass on earth, as in the sky;

  How else can the Heavenly Dog eat the moon on high?

  In it goes at one side, and out it pops again;

  Brightly as ever the moon shines then.

  It’s always the good who come out on top,

  The devil’s disciples soon have to stop.

  Landlord Ts’ui in

  Wang Kuei and Li Hsiang-hsiang

  THE REACTION of the gentry to the devastating blows of the Settling Accounts Movement was as drastic as those who remained behind could make it. As far as the privileged classes were concerned, permanent expropriation was unthinkable. If the peasants could enforce the confiscation of land and property or even “double reduction,” then life was not worth living. Therefore, even though their sword—the local Peace Preservation Corps—had been broken, and their shield—the provincial and central armies of the Kuomintang—had been cast out, the landlords, the rich peasants, and their “dog’s legs” inside the Liberated Areas desperately contested the field. Those who ran away fled with the intention of returning to take revenge, and those who remained used all the resources at their command to disrupt the developing peasant power, neutralize as many people as possible, isolate the active young cadres, and preserve whatever was left of their power and prosperity. They hoped, at a minimum, to have something left to build on when the great offensive, being prepared in Chungking with American support, turned the tide of history, crushed the Liberated Areas, and put the traditional rulers back in power. It never entered their heads that this offensive too would be defeated in the long run.

  As an elementary precaution the gentry concealed what valuable property they could in the homes of poor relatives, friends, tenants, and employees. Many peasant families who had little basic sympathy for the wealthy were cajoled, bribed, tricked, or threatened into helping them. Hsu Cheng-p’eng, the landlord who was a Kuomintang general, sent his cousin, who was a tenant on his land, 220 silver dollars for safekeeping. The puppet Chief-of-Staff Chou Mei-sheng turned half an acre of his best soil over to a long-term hired laborer, Chang Fu-hsin. He also hid 80 silver dollars in a second laborer’s house. The latter, Wang Chi-kao, covered the silver coins with copper ones and set the jar on a shelf. In each case, when the leaders of the Peasants’ Association found out about the concealed property, the poor peasants involved were beaten and wholly or partly expropriated themselves.

  General Hsu wrote a letter to his cousin asking about the silver dollars. When the letter was intercepted by the village office, it touched off an attack on the cousin himself. Chang Fu-hsin, the laborer, was arrested and beaten when the captain of the militia found him planting Chou Mei-sheng’s half acre with his own seed. Wang Chi-kao went himself to the Peasants’ Association Committee to report the jar full of coins but was beaten nevertheless for having concealed it.

  Families such as these were labelled “air raid shelters” by the other peasants and were mercilessly punished. As a result, persons who, by fair means or foul, had been persuaded to become “air raid shelters” tended to be passive, even antagonistic to further st
ruggle because they feared, with reason, that if they were exposed they would be as fiercely attacked as the gentry themselves. They thought, “The landlords have put their feudal tails in our homes. When the people come for their property the landlords may lose their tails, but we will lose our heads!”

  The severe punishment meted out to those who were found out and the fear that this engendered among those already enmeshed suggested to the gentry a new tactic. They converted what began as a movement to hide property into a movement to divide the people. They hid property in others’ homes in order to sow distrust and suspicion, in order to divert the attack from themselves and to set the peasants to fighting one another. They even went a step further and spread rumors that they had hidden property with others when in fact they had not. Since a negative is hard to prove, the victims of these rumors found it very difficult to clear their names. As had been demonstrated in the case of Ch’ung-lai’s wife, one landlord’s word that she had concealed money for Wang Lai-hsun led to a fearful beating and flesh-cutting torture. A false charge that could cause that much dissension was more valuable to the gentry than jars full of silver and gold.

  Coquetry and seduction were also powerful weapons. The women of the gentry were often very beautiful. After all, landlords and rich peasants had long had their pick of the most beautiful girls in the countryside for wives and concubines. In addition to their natural graces, these women were taught to dress and pamper themselves. They knew how to charm men. While the wives of the poor labored endlessly in their huts and in the fields, gathered manure by the roadside, dug herbs in the hills, and were burned black by the sun, the landlords’ wives bathed, dressed in elegant clothes, spent hours combing their fine black hair, treated their fair skin with powder and oil, and developed the social graces necessary for entertaining important guests.