Chairman: Have you made any progress in the past six months? Have you improved?

Yuanxin: I’m still rather confused myself. I can’t really say there’s been any real improvement—any changes, if any, are only superficial.

Chairman: In my view, there has been progress. Your understanding of issues is no longer so simplistic. Have you read the “Nine Commentaries”? Have you studied the five criteria for a successor?

Yuanxin: Yes, I have. (He then outlined the main points of the five criteria as presented in the “Nine Commentaries.”)

Chairman: You’ve recited them, but do you truly understand? These five points are interconnected. The first concerns theory and direction; the second is about purpose—who exactly are we serving? That’s the most crucial aspect. If you grasp this one well, everything else will fall into place. Points three, four, and five pertain to methods: we must unite the majority, practice democratic centralism—not let a single person have the final say—engage in self-criticism, and remain humble and prudent. Aren’t these all practical approaches?

(When discussing the first criterion for a successor, the Chairman asked, “Are you going to study Marxism-Leninism, or revisionism?”)

Yuanxin: Of course, I’ll study Marxism-Leninism.

Chairman: That remains to be seen. Who knows what you’re actually studying? Do you even know what Marxism-Leninism is?

Yuanxin: Marxism-Leninism means waging class struggle and carrying out revolution.

Chairman: The fundamental tenet of Marxism-Leninism is revolution. What is revolution? It is the proletariat overthrowing the capitalists, the peasants rising up against the landlords, and then establishing a united worker-peasant government, which must be consolidated and sustained. The revolutionary task is far from complete. It’s still unclear who will ultimately triumph over whom. In the Soviet Union, Khrushchev is still in power—the bourgeoisie holds sway. We too have bourgeois elements controlling the apparatus: they are present in production teams, factories, county committees, prefectural committees, and provincial committees. Even some deputy directors of public security bureaus belong to their ranks. And who leads the Ministry of Culture? Films and plays serve them, not the broad masses! So tell me, who is really in charge? Studying Marxism-Leninism means learning about class struggle, which exists everywhere—even at your own institution. Did you know that an anti-revolutionary element emerged right here on campus? He kept more than a dozen reactionary diaries, railing against us day after day. Isn’t that the very definition of an anti-revolutionary? Don’t you claim you can’t sense class struggle? Yet it’s right beside you! Without anti-revolutionaries, what kind of revolution could there possibly be? (Yuanxin reported that during his factory internship he had heard about the Five-Anti Campaign in certain enterprises and felt deeply educated.) Anti-revolutionaries are everywhere. Why wouldn’t there be any in factories? Nationalist generals, colonels, and secretaries of county party committees have infiltrated our ranks. No matter how they disguise themselves, it is imperative that we root them out. Class struggle and anti-revolutionary elements are present in every sphere. Wasn’t Chen Dongping sleeping right next to you? I’ve examined several reports from your school concerning materials factories. And you were sharing a bed with an anti-revolutionary without even realizing it?

(The Chairman then inquired about the college’s political-ideological work. Comrade Mao Yuanxin offered his assessment, noting that meetings and lectures tended to be grand in form but yielded few concrete results.)

Chairman: The whole country is emulating the People’s Liberation Army. Your institution is part of the PLA—why aren’t you following suit? Does your college have a political department? What does it do? Is there political education? (Mao Yuanxin explained the current state of political education.) What good are mere classes and discussions? True learning comes from engaging with reality. What you call “ideological leadership” remains unimplemented. You lack any practical knowledge whatsoever. How could anyone possibly understand such abstractions?

(The Chairman strongly encouraged swimming in rough seas and urged Yuanxin to do so daily.)

Chairman: Do you dare go out into the waves to swim? (They were swimming at Beidaihe.)

Yuanxin: I do. (He immediately swam out.)

Chairman: (After Yuanxin returned) Would you go again? (Yuanxin swam out once more.)

Yuanxin: (Upon returning) This time I nearly didn’t make it back.

Chairman: You’ve come to know the water and mastered it—that’s excellent. Can you ride a horse? (Yuanxin replied, “No.”) A soldier shouldn’t be unable to ride a horse. (The Chairman instructed Yuanxin to learn, adding that he himself frequently practiced riding and encouraged his secretaries and staff to do the same.)

Chairman: Can you shoot a gun?

Yuanxin: It’s been four years since I last touched one.

Chairman: Nowadays, militia members shoot remarkably well. Yet you, as a member of the People’s Liberation Army, haven’t even fired a shot. How can someone be a soldier without knowing how to use a firearm?

On one occasion, when the weather was rather cool but the water pleasantly warm, Mao Yuanxin emerged feeling slightly chilled and remarked, “The water is still more comfortable.” The Chairman glared at him and said, “You just like comfort and fear hardship.”

Turning to the second criterion for a successor, the Chairman remarked, “All you ever think about is yourself, concerned only with your own affairs. Your father stood firm and unwavering before the enemy, never wavering in the slightest, precisely because he served the interests of the many. If it weren’t for that, you would already be on your knees begging for mercy. Many members of our family were killed by the Kuomintang and U.S. imperialism. You’ve grown up on honey, never having known a lick of bitterness. I’d be satisfied if you remained a centrist rather than a rightist. You’ve never tasted hardship—how could you possibly become a leftist?” (Mao Yuanxin ventured, “Do I still have any hope?”) “There is hope. Very well. Exceeding my expectations would be even better.”

Addressing the third criterion, the Chairman asked, “How are your meetings conducted? How did you perform as class monitor? Are you able to accept criticism from others? Can you tolerate being wrong? If not, how can you unite people? You seem to prefer flattery—sweet talk in your mouth and praise in your ears. That’s precisely the most dangerous path.”

Regarding the fourth criterion, the Chairman stated, “Do you get along with the general populace, or do you only associate with the children of cadres while looking down on others? Everyone should be allowed to speak; decisions shouldn’t rest with a single individual.”

As for the fifth criterion, the Chairman observed, “You’ve shown some progress and a measure of self-criticism, but you’re only just beginning. Don’t assume you’ve arrived.”

Later, the Chairman revisited the college’s operations. The most fundamental problem, he said, lies in the failure to implement the “Four Priorities.” Didn’t you mention wanting to study Marxism-Leninism? How exactly are you going about it? How much can one truly learn simply by attending lectures? The key is to engage with reality. (Mao Yuanxin responded, “The College of Engineering differs from the College of Liberal Arts; we don’t have as much time allocated for engagement with society.”) “That’s incorrect. Class struggle is one of your core subjects. Your college ought to send everyone—from cadres to students—to the countryside to carry out the Four Cleansings. Beyond that five-month campaign, you should also spend half a year in factories participating in the Five-Anti Movement. You know absolutely nothing about society! Without the Four Cleansings, you won’t understand the peasantry; without the Five-Anti, you won’t grasp the working class. Only after completing such political education can you be considered a graduate. Otherwise, even if the military-industrial complex grants you a degree, I will not recognize it. If you don’t even understand class struggle, how can you possibly be called a university graduate? I intend to arrange for you to receive this instruction as well. Your college’s ideological work remains inadequate. With so many anti-revolutionary elements around, why haven’t you noticed? You were living side by side with Chen Dongping and still didn’t realize it.” (Mao Yuanxin explained, “Chen Dongping fell into ruin after taking time off to listen to enemy broadcasts.”) “Is it really possible to trust enemy broadcasts so implicitly? Have you ever listened? Those broadcasters don’t even have enough to eat. How can their words be credible? For example, Wei Lihuang lost his fortune doing business in Hong Kong before returning home. Such individuals are generally looked down upon—let alone someone like Chen Dongping.” What, then, are the “Four Priorities”? (Yuanxin repeated the explanation.) “Now do you understand why we fail to grasp living thought? I’ve heard that your college has plenty of political cadres, yet they focus solely on higher-level officials, neglecting the grassroots. Naturally, we can’t capture the spirit of the times. Academic achievement certainly matters, but mistakes are hardly fatal. The military-industrial complex has only been operating for ten years. We lack experience in running technical schools within the armed forces—as if we were still fighting in 1927, stumbling through our early battles before finally learning to win.”

The Chairman then asked, “What’s the status of your school’s educational reforms?”

Yuanxin: In the past, it was all about grades, and students lacked initiative in their studies.

Chairman: It’s good that you recognize this. But it’s not entirely your fault. The entire education system is structured this way: the open call to strive for perfect scores effectively confines and stifles students. Your sister suffered from this as well. There was a student at Peking University who rarely took notes and usually scored only 3.5 or 4 on exams, yet whose graduation thesis was outstanding. Others saw through that system and began to take charge of their own learning. Some people managed to break free from the obsession with grades and pursued knowledge boldly and independently. Your education, however, remains rote—day after day of classroom instruction, with so much material to cover. Why not have instructors distribute lecture handouts beforehand? What’s there to fear? Teachers should devote themselves to research instead of merely delivering prepackaged content. Should lecture notes even be kept secret from students? Having students copy them verbatim in class only further restricts their thinking. When I lectured at the Anti-Japanese Military and Political University, I would distribute my lecture outlines to the students and deliver only a concise thirty-minute talk, leaving them to study on their own and raise questions, which I would then address. University students, especially those in their upper years, are perfectly capable of delving into problems themselves. Why waste so much time on endless lecturing? The previous emphasis on chasing perfect scores—being top of the class at school but not necessarily excelling in one’s job—has led to a troubling pattern throughout Chinese history: many so-called “top scholars” lacked genuine talent, while those who failed even the lowest-level imperial examinations often possessed real ability. Two of the greatest poets of the Tang Dynasty never passed the provincial-level exams. We should stop placing such undue importance on grades and instead channel our energy into cultivating students’ analytical and problem-solving skills, rather than simply following teachers around and being constrained by them. The crux of educational reform lies with the teachers themselves. After all, how much can they accomplish without prepared lecture notes? Why not share those notes with students and explore the issues together? Senior students might pose fifty percent of the questions, to which teachers could respond directly, while for the remaining questions they could consult with the students—a productive approach. Let’s abandon the pretense of intimidation. Even the bourgeoisie has proposed abandoning rote teaching methods. Why aren’t we doing the same, provided we don’t treat students as targets for punishment? The key to reform, therefore, rests with the faculty. (Once, Mao Yuanxin urged the Chairman to visit an exhibition showcasing scientific achievements. The Chairman replied that he was currently too busy, lacking both the time to examine everything thoroughly and the inclination to merely skim through it. He then added, “Why are you so interested in this, yet show no curiosity about Marxism-Leninism? Normally, you seldom ask questions on such topics.”)

The Chairman then asked Mao Yuanxin what newspapers he usually reads. “You should read the PLA Daily and the China Youth Daily,” he advised. “Their articles written by worker-soldiers are lively and insightful, offering a clear picture of real-world issues. Have you ever read the ‘Two-in-One’ discussion?” (Mao Yuanxin admitted he rarely read it and found it difficult to understand.) “Exactly,” the Chairman continued, handing him a copy of the China Youth Daily. “See how the workers analyze things, and how the Communist Youth League cadres approach the same issues—they do it very well.” The Chairman concluded, “Your political classes consist almost entirely of lectures. How much can you really learn from mere lecturing? The essence lies in practical application. Why are you so keen on your field of study yet indifferent to Marxism-Leninism? Historical research divorced from reality is meaningless. To study modern history without delving into local and family histories is pure nonsense. Ancient history must be grounded in reality and supported by excavation and archaeological evidence. As for Yao, Shun, and Yu—do they really exist? I simply don’t believe it. Where is the concrete evidence? The oracle bones from the Shang dynasty offer some basis for credulity. But the more you delve into ancient texts, the less you seem to gain. ”