Party Voucher

Born into a “red-rooted” family, Ming automatically became a Red Guard when he enrolled in Songzi High School in the spring of 1973. To go along with the red trend, he half-heartedly joined the Communist Youth League about a year later. And for the first few months after coming to settle down on Mayuhe Forest Farm with sixteen other zhiqing^* in answer to the Party’s call, it never crossed his mind to apply for a CCP membership, though every aspiring adult of the day would try to. But as he began to think seriously about his future, he found the great need: only by joining the CCP could he ever hope to win the nomination from the local Party branch and revolutionary masses for any university space that might (or might never) become available to him, thus putting an end to his physical hardships in the labor camp. Since all zhiqing were required to work at least for two years in the countryside before they were allowed to “return to the city” in one way or another, Ming made up his mind to fulfill his political goal first and foremost.

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The first action Ming took was have a private conversation with Shao, during which he proposed to publish a wall zine, with its inaugural issue devoted to the current national political campaign called “Criticizing Lin Biao and Confucius.” Probably because the secretary found this idea not only new and interesting but very likely to win some extra political credits for the forest division of the farm under his personal leadership, he gave Ming a green light on the spot.

“Pick up anyone to help you, and take a few days off if you need,” he offered.

“No such need. I can do the job all by myself, on a rainy day when we all have to stay indoors.”

With Shao’s support, Ming collected as many critical essays from his fellow zhiqing at the youth station as possible, selected those best written, and clean-copied them with an ink brush pen on big poster-paper before pasting them on the interior walls of the meeting room. As he had done something similar in high school about one year before, Ming completed his job to everyone’s satisfaction.

“Ming’s handwriting is beautiful!” said someone behind his back one day.

“Of all the zhiqing here, you’re the only one looking like a true senior high school grad!” commented one local senior ranger to him before a small crowd another day.

For Ming, as for all country folks, handwriting was particularly important because it was indicative of a person’s educational level. While most of his fellow zhiqing’s showed a clumsy style, his handwriting was impressively handsome.

To gain more applause from both his fellow zhiqing and local people, he spent his spare time preparing and publishing a follow up issue centralizing around the theme of “Settling down in the countryside to continue the revolution,” a sociopolitical catchphrase for millions of zhiqing of the day. In this issue, he wall-showcased some of his own best written revolutionary poems with a view to demonstrating that he was not merely a good calligrapher but also a talented writer in his own right.

“Well done, and step up your game, Son!” Ming’s father praised him for the first time when he got to know how he was doing recently in Mayuhe. “But more important are your actual political deeds. Don’t let people say you’re all mouth!”

“How can I outperform others in deed?”

“Do what others would not or could not do!”

Though Ming had always disliked his father, partly for being too much of a propagandist, and thus habitually turned a deaf ear to his preaching, he was ready to take his advice this time since it might help him get the Party membership he needed for university.

The time came when the lunar New Year’s Day of 1975 was around the corner. While everyone else was eager to return home, Ming told Secretary Shao that he wanted to stay at the headquarters as the only one on duty to take care of the premises.

This little sacrifice soon paid off. At the next general meeting, Ming was elected to be the political study leader of the youth station, a position which enabled him to compete on an equal footing with Jin, the station leader who was also trying to get his Party membership. To develop a competitive edge over Jin and all other applicants, Ming made a cruel and unusual rule for himself: on every work day, he would be the first one to appear in and last one to leave the field. During the working process, he would labor like a true slave.

So he did. For instance, on a chilly morning in early March, he and other zhiqing boys were digging in the nursery. Hardly had Chang, the local team leader supervising their work, left the site in a hurry when everyone began to slack. Some stood up to take an extended break, others continued in a clever way by digging shallow and sparse, but Ming dug every inch deep and well even when his comrades joked about his foolishness. Despite several big blood blisters developed in his hands, he kept digging hard until almost every one of them broke. Seeing his hands bleeding, Chang, who had returned to the field without Ming knowing it, came over and asked him to go back to his dorm to wrap his hands with something clean, but Ming just went on with his work instead.

A few days later, Ming caught cold and started to run a high fever. His best friend Pan suggesting him asking for a sick leave; however, Ming insisted that he’d rather take the opportunity to exercise his willpower, as the protagonist in How the Steel Was Tempered or Gadfly would do. When Secretary Shao somehow got to know this episode later, he mentioned to an old Party member that Ming was one of the strongest CCP applicants within their branch.

^*A special historical term referring to educated youths with official urban origins sent to the countryside to receive “re-education” from poor locals during “the Cultural Revolution” led by Mao between 1966 and 1976.