Does any of this start to sound familiar:
For years Mao Zedong groped to
find his way as a young man, first as a scholar, then as a publisher, finally
as a labour activist. In the countryside, five years after joining the Chinese
Communist Party in 1921, he finally discovered his calling. Still a young man
of thirty-three, tall, lean and handsome, he was enthralled by the peasant
violence that had erupted in the countryside after the nationalists had
launched a military campaign from their base in Guangzhou to seize power from
local warlords and unify the country. Russian advisers accompanied the
nationalist army, as Chiang Kai-shek, at this stage, was still collaborating
closely with Stalin.
In Mao’s home province of Hunan,
the nationalist authorities followed Russian instructions in funding peasant
associations and fomenting a Soviet-style revolution.
Social order broke down.
In Changsha, the provincial
capital, victims were paraded in tall conical hats of mockery. Children
scampered down the streets singing,
‘Down with the [imperialist]
powers and eliminate the warlords.’
Workers armed with bamboo sticks
picketed the offices of foreign companies. Public utilities were wrecked.
In the countryside, the poorest
of the villagers took control of the peasant associations and turned the world
upside down. They were now the masters, choosing their targets at random,
striking down the wealthy and powerful, creating a reign of terror.
Some victims were knifed, a few
decapitated. Chinese pastors were paraded through the streets as ‘running dogs
of imperialism’, their hands bound behind their backs and a rope around their
necks. Churches were looted. Mao admired the audacity and violence of the
rebels. He was attracted by the slogans they coined:
‘Anyone who has land is a tyrant,
and all gentry are bad.’
He went to the country side to
investigate the uprisings.
‘They strike the gentry to the
ground,’
Mao wrote in his report on the
peasant movement.
‘People swarm into the houses of
local tyrants and evil gentry who are against the peasant association,
slaughter their pigs and consume their grain. They even loll for a minute or
two on the ivory-inlaid beds belonging to the young ladies in the households of
the local tyrants and evil gentry.
At the slightest provocation they
make arrests, crown the arrested with tall paper hats, and parade them through
the villages.’ Mao was so taken with the violence that he felt ‘thrilled as
never before’. Mao predicted that a hurricane would destroy the existing order:
In a very short time, in China’s
central, southern and northern provinces, several hundred million peasants will
rise like a mighty storm, like a hurricane, a force so swift and violent that
no power, however great, will be able to hold it back. They will smash all the
trammels that bind them and rush forward along the road to liberation. They
will sweep all the imperialists, warlords, corrupt officials, local tyrants and
evil gentry into their graves.
This from the book by Dikotter, The Tragedy of Liberation,
on how Mao, using Soviet tactics, and expanding on them, took over China.
Slogans, destruction, oppression, and a forced change on society.
These tactics have been used before by many others. There is
no end to them if we forget history.