Mao's Treatment of the Intellectuals in the 1950's

For anyone interested in literary history, and very specifically, Chinese literary history in the 1950's, this is the paper for you. After writing this paper, I gained a better understanding of why dictatorial regimes like Mao's have such a hard time innovating in literature and art. Even though this happened 60 years ago, I would argue that it still has very broad consequences today. For those not convinced that China suffers from a dearth of intellectual prowess, here is an article from the summer of 2008: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/07/25/AR2008072502255_2.html?hpid=opinionsbox1&sub=AR

Especially convincing is this clip from the end of the article-

But consider the case of the high-kicking panda who uses ancient Chinese teachings to turn himself into a kung fu warrior. That recent Hollywood smash broke Chinese box-office records -- and caused no end of hand-wringing among the country's glitterati. "The film's protagonist is China's national treasure, and all the elements are Chinese, but why didn't we make such a film?" Wu Jiang, president of the China National Peking Opera Company, told the official New China News Agency.

The content may be Chinese, but the irreverence and creativity of "Kung Fu Panda" are 100 percent American. That highlights another weakness in the argument about China's inevitable rise: The place remains an authoritarian state run by a party that limits the free flow of information, stifles ingenuity and doesn't understand how to self-correct. Blockbusters don't grow out of the barrel of a gun. Neither do superpowers in the age of globalization.

So here is my paper on "Mao's Treatment of Intellectuals During the 1950's".

Mao Zedong proclaimed in 1949 that the Chinese people have finally stood up. Foreign powers would no longer bully this great nation, and complete control would be restored to the proletariat. Writers and intellectuals for the most part were very excited with the prospect of Utopia. Ever since the May 4th movement, these scholars had called for change. The first ten years of Chinese Communist Party rule however was extremely rocky for these same thinkers. Mao’s distaste for intellectuals was very apparent through many of the movements he initiated throughout the 1950s. The Hu Feng Campaign, 100 Flowers movement and the Anti-rightist Campaign depicted the vast uncertainty that permeated through artistic society. “Talks at the Yenan Forum of Literature and Art Speech” set the precedent for Mao’s oppression of the intellectuals.

In 1942 the Chinese Communist Party was fighting a resistance war against Japan while working to indoctrinate Party members with the Marxist-Leninist ideology. With a strong following in the Northern city Yenan, Mao and his comrades built up the Party with guns and ammunition as well as with the pen. Intellectuals rushed to Yenan to take part in the Communist experiment. They approached Mao with their intensely patriotic feelings and kindly asked him to explain how they, the intelligencia, could help the proletarian cause. Mao knew the importance of intellectual support even though most of these academicians came from bourgeois backgrounds and were uneducated in the experiences of the proletariat. Through his “Talks at the Yenan Forum on Literature and Art,” Mao clearly set out what his expectations were for the intellegencia as part of the new Communist society.

In the May, 1942 speech, Mao first thanked the writers for supporting him and his movement during the first civil war. He notes “to defeat the enemy we must rely primarily on the army with guns. But this army alone is not enough; we must also have a cultural army, which is absolutely indispensable for uniting our own ranks and defeating the enemy.”[1] He mentioned that intellectuals have strayed from their proletarian message and slipped back into bourgeois liberalism. The correct stand, according to Mao, was not only to write novels that support the political aims of the Party, but to also be able to connect with the Party’s main constituents: workers, peasants and soldiers. Mao referenced previous periods of literature, which were directed towards “students, office workers and shop assistants.”[2]

Mao added that writers must not only reach out to workers, peasants and soldiers, but must also undergo a full class transformation. By his own admission, Mao did not start off as a member of a proletariat. He reminisced of his days as a student, when he would “feel it undignified to do any manual labor, such as shouldering my own luggage[…]at that time it seemed to me that the intellectuals were the only clean persons in the world.”[3] Even though his audience was intellectuals who joined the Party at Yenan, Mao clarified that it is not enough to be a Communist in name but to totally transform one’s work in order to benefit the proletarian cause.

This transformation proved to be a great problem for many writers. The 1930s brought the Golden Age of the Chinese novel when many of the tremendous literary works also expressed socialist sentiments. Ricksaw (Lou tou xiang zi) by author Lao She was a bestseller that told the story of a poor peasant (Xiang Zi) who tries to succeed in Beijing as a rickshaw puller. The novel depicts the inevitable breakdown of this optimistic young peasant’s life. The overall message can be summed up by the last paragraph:

Handsome, ambitious, dreamer of fine dreams, selfish, individualistic, sturdy, great Xiang Zi….no one knows when or where he was able to get himself buried, that degenerate, selfish, unlucky offspring of societies diseased womb, a ghost caught in Individualism’s blind alley[4]

Depictions like these could have been used in Mao’s textbooks to describe the horrors of a capitalist society, where the common narrative follows a hero like Xiang Zi who is able to pull himself up by the bootstraps and positively change his position. Without mentioning Lao She’s work by name, Mao derided popular literature of this type by arguing that workers, peasants and soldiers need “works of a higher quality, being more polished, are more difficult to produce and in general do not circulate so easily and quickly among the masses at present.”[5] Lao She’s work, which was read by millions of Chinese and non-Chinese alike, expresses true socialist sentiments but does not pass Mao’s litmus test because it was too popular with all classes. This brings in the Marxist concept that there is nothing stronger in society than class-consciousness. A book that appeals to urban elites will never be able to reach a peasant on any meaningful level.

Based on Mao’s stringent qualification that intellectuals had to adhere to, it is not surprising that after the Communists took power in 1949, China experienced a relative blackout of literature. Authors like Lao She, Shen Congwen, and Ba Jin, all prolific and successful during the 1930s, fell silent. Others, like Eileen Zhang fled the country and wrote about the horrors of land reform and other political movements she witnessed.

Yet one controversial Marxist figure stayed in China and continued to write. Hu Feng, although not a member of the CCP, was very active within the literary circles of the Party. Although a devout Marxist, he disagreed with Mao in some very key areas. Most notably, Hu disagreed with Mao that the Party should be allowed to block writers’ goals of expressing the realistic nature of life. Hu expressed the need to write literature by introducing his article called Realism Today with a quote from the famed author Lu Xun; “Most of my material is selected from the lives of the unfortunate who live in our sick society. My motive is to expose the illness in order to induce people to pay attention to its cure.”[6] Hu uses this famous quote by such a praised author and argues that the only reason Lu Xun was able to create such passionate feelings among the masses was because his words had substance.[7] Whereas Mao made it clear in his Yenan talks that there was no room for bourgeois individualist feelings in literature, Hu disagrees by saying it is impossible to reach people without understanding and expressing the complex nature of human emotions.

Hu is a very important figure in understanding how Mao treated intellectuals in the 50’s because he was the first to test the waters of dissent. Directly after the defeat of the Nationalists, literary debates still occurred. The government had other priorities such as rebuilding a war-torn and feeble country while still consolidating power. These goals are outlined in the 3-antis and the 5-antis campaigns, none of which directly dealt with the role of intellectuals. Yet Mao still was not silent on the issue. In October 1951, Mao declared that “ideological remolding, especially ideological remolding of all intellectuals, is one of the important conditions for realizing industrialization and democratic reform.”[8] It was soon after this statement that Mao’s culture czar, Zhou Yang, instituted mandatory “ideological remolding” happening once a year for two months at a time.[9]

Hu Feng was the first to openly challenge the CCP’s ideological remolding campaign. When speaking about Mao’s Yenan Talks of Literature and Art, he mentioned that “people have made a totem pole of this small booklet; this is the most difficult problem at present”.[10] It wasn’t necessarily that Hu disagreed with the contents of the talks, but that writers approached new literature with such tunnel vision so that creativity was greatly affected. Hu claimed that writers have “achieved a confused kind of mechanicalism as well as an overbearing attitude that suffocates the life of realism…While these critics are in power, other people cannot even grunt disapproval […] And demands arising from reality will be suppressed [….] how can culture not whither?”[11] With these views, Hu began a small movement within the artistic community.

He emphasized working within the Party to loosen restrictions. In a letter to a follower, Hu advised that a compromise with authorities is possible by advocating to “refuse unreasonable corrections of your views” all the while “avoiding things [political attacks] which are too sharp.”[12] Unfortunately, Zhou Yang held more influence in literary circles, which resulted in Hu and his associates being discredited. The attacks intensified in 1951 when a Party literary magazine wen yi bao (The Literature and Art Magazine) published a scathing criticism of Hu’s clique. They claimed that Hu’s follower, Lu Ling, characterized the proletariat as “petty, wild, barbarous, cruel, disorganized, undisciplined and irrational. Almost all of his [Lu Ling’s] working people have such a backward ideology…that they stand in opposition to their own class.”[13] The article posits that Hu and his followers had not yet made the transformation from middle class to proletariat. The article then demands that they “thoroughly reform their own subjective ideology”.[14]

Lu began to feel the blowback from this critique. Struggle sessions against him began and he could not publish his work anymore. Hu stood by Lu’s side during the whole ordeal. Lu also had a meeting set up with Zhou Yang, in which Hu instructed “you should meet him with a good, soft attitude which encases toughness. Be practical and careful, don’t attack at random.”[15] Hu’s group took a big hit when a follower, Shu Wu, published a self-criticism titled “Thoroughly Study ‘Talks at the Yenan Forum on Art and Literature.’” The Peoples Daily editorialized this critique and specifically pointed at Hu Feng for instigating this bourgeois movement.[16]

The Party temporarily halted their attacks on Hu’s group at the end of 1953 and into 1954, allowing for a greater amount of their literature to be published in mainstream journals such as ren min wen xue (The Peoples Study of Literature) or even in newspapers like the Peoples Daily. Hu believed the time had come where he could commence a full frontal assault on the Communist Party literary establishment. In his report to the Central Committee in July of 1954, he claimed that the literary authorities such as Zhou Yang and his associates were unfit to lead intellectuals to produce great proletarian literature. Hu reiterated his views that using “Marxism as a substitute for realism […] will block artistic endeavor and will destroy art itself”.[17] In particular, the biggest threats to Chinese literature were the bureaucrats who had no writing experience and whose actions were motivated only by politics. This attack was also likely meant for Zhou Yang, especially since Hu quoted Zhou as saying “even if what you say is 99 per cent right, if one thing is wrong on one crucial point then everything is totally wrong”.[18]

In order to rectify this dictatorial control, Hu recommended that the Party allow for competing literary journals where the editors would be approved by the CCP but would not be bound to inspection or supervision by the Party.[19] Thus Hu was not at all opposed to the CCP’s reigning of intellectuals, he just advocated for a greater amount of debate. In the end, Hu believed that his ideas would enable China to return to producing great literature. The purpose of this literature would eventually be to aid the revolution.

The Party commenced the “Campaign to Criticize Hu Feng” in response to his address to the Central Committee. Zhou Yang and his associates were deeply offended that anyone would have the audacity to commence such an attack in a public setting. It was a huge loss of face for Zhou and the Party, who needed to provide an ever-present facade of unanimity. In January 1955, a flurry of criticisms began appearing in the Peoples Daily, and the annual meeting of the Chinese Writers Union was reserved almost solely for pointing out all the problems of Hu’s clique.[20] The attacks snowballed into much broader accusations, including the assertion that Hu was a KMT spy and a commander in the continued underground war against Communism.[21] Finally in July of 1955, the CCP announced the arrest of Hu for “counterrevolutionary activities.”[22] He was imprisoned and there is still controversy as to his whereabouts. He could have been executed, died in prison, or released with a different identity and put under house arrest. No matter what happened, the message was clear: Hu Feng’s criticism of the CCP was his last publication.

Perhaps this affair shows exactly how Mao viewed the intellectuals. Under his guise, a leading authority in China’s intellectual scene was silenced. Mao thought that intellectuals couldn’t contribute in any meaningful way to the proletarian revolution. Scholar Richard Soloman posits that Mao’s distaste of intellectuals began in his youth when he worked in Beijing University’s library under the guise of philosopher Hu Shih.[23] Intellectuals according to Mao “use words but […] avoid direct involvement in practical problems.”[24] Intellectuals also lacked the zeal of workers and peasants in the revolution: “Once a storm comes, the intellectual’s position is clearly different from the majority of peasants. The former is wavering while the latter is firm; the former is ambiguous while the latter is clear.”[25] Hu Feng fit this definition perfectly. He was not fully committed to the revolutionary agenda and wavered from the status quo, impeding the progression to Communism.

The Hu Feng affair again brought silence to the Chinese academic world. No scholar or intellectual wanted to suffer the same fate. As 1956 came around, there was a new saying in the air; Let one hundred flowers bloom, let one hundred schools of thought contend. Ironically, the same man who persecuted Hu Feng for challenging the Party, while speaking of intellectuals in utter disdain, was the one who made this decision. Mao claimed that China had defeated the remaining KMT elements and collectivized the agricultural sector. The hardest part of revolution was accomplished. The State was now ready to accept “non-antagonistic criticisms”.[26] These constituted any types of constructive criticisms about how the Party operates, but could not disparage the ideological basis for Marxism or Communism. Mao hated red tape and argued the expansion of intellectual discourse could contain bureaucracy. Thus he set out on a campaign to rid the country of the two things he hated most: bureaucracy and intellectuals.

Mao started the movement by releasing some of his own artistic works. Mao was a poet and calligrapher who used many old Chinese forms, especially during his hardest times like the Long March. Even though he was the supreme leader, it was a political liability to publish classical poetry because it could be labeled as feudalistic. In a letter to the poetry journal, Mao admits “up to now, I have never wanted to make these things known in any formal way, because they are in old style and I was afraid this might encourage a wrong trend and exercise a bad influence on your people [writers].”[27] Although Mao’s poetry was an old seven character per line and eight-line format, his topics were very modern. One poem explains the bravery of the Red Army during the Long March. Using the same imagery as the classical poets before him, Mao writes “The Red Army does not fear/ the Long March toughness. / Thousands of rivers, hundreds of mountains, easy. / The Five Ridges/ merely little ripples.”[28] Mao had found a way to produce decent poetry in old forms that promote the communist cause. However, Mao cautioned his fellow intellectuals by saying “poetry should be written mainly in modern form. We may write some verse in classical forms as well, but it would not be advisable to encourage young people to do this.”[29] Mao explains that classical forms tend to inhibit a writers creative spirit because of their difficulty to master.[30]

Writers abandoned their silence and almost immediately voiced their concerns in the prominent literary magazines. The outpouring of opinion took many different forms. Some writers sought to vindicate Mao for being so harsh on them in the past. Liu Shao-Tong for example noted that the Yenan talks coincided with the CCP’s war against Japan and their shoddy alliance with the KMT. Thus, the Party needed to “carry out thought reform for the writers and artists, insisting that they should penetrate into the ranks of the workers, peasants and soldiers, and penetrate into the practical struggles […] in direct service of the anti-Japanese war”.[31] The times had changed. China is not in need of such a rigid literary structure. Liu also argues that the workers, peasants and soldiers have analytical abilities and that literature by its very nature can motivate them to do great things.[32]

Other intellectuals demanded more artistic freedom. Huang Yao Mian attacked the Party’s literary criticism establishment for being too rigid and used common sense to back up his claim. He explains, “in the minds of the leadership, there is a simplified theory as to the relationship between world outlook and creative work. The low quality of our creative work is not unrelated to this simplified theory”. [33]Responding to the claim that writers’ thoughts were too fledgling in 1949 to produce openly, Huang says “why have a number of people not written any books yet? If we say that when their thought has progressed they will be able to write books, then why is it that in the last seven or eight years the thoughts of writers have progressed but they still haven’t written any books.”[34] This is a very telling observation as the most populous country in the world had not produced any literature worthy of export since the CCP came to power.

Other intellectuals used a semi-sarcastic tone to express their frustrations. Wang Gui Lung wrote in the magazine Chinese Youth that he “cannot help but laugh out loud when I recall the way we used to approach literary works in the past […] I am prepared to take an extensive walk in the literary garden of the world, and when I come across poisonous weeds, I would even pick them up and play with them.”[35] Wang challenges the CCP to allow its citizens to read and debate world literature. He agrees with Huang that the class transformation has been completed and the proletariat is enlightened enough to delineate the bad from good.

Intellectuals in other fields had their fair share of criticisms as well. Many economists thought that Mao had blindly followed the Soviet model. Some politicians spoke out against the excessive bureaucracy. The take home message was that the Party could not rely on its excessively dogmatic approach used in the past. Intellectuals bluntly asked for more freedom by claiming it would help the progression of the state in the end. All of these criticisms were much stronger than Hu Feng’s, and it was only a matter of time until time until the Party slammed its iron fist down on these intellectuals. That time came on June 8th, 1957, when Mao officially ended the One Hundred Flowers period. The Peoples Daily lashed out at many of the intellectuals by claiming that the movement just displayed the rightist elements still in society.[36]

The Anti-rightist Campaign directly followed the One Hundred Flowers movement. Editorials blasted the intellectuals who recently criticized the Party, some even turning against their family members. One telling editorial shows how the great Confucian bond of filial piety was broken. Qu Anping’s son published in the Peoples Daily that “I myself, a soldier […] resolutely stand on the side of the nation in opposition to [my fathers] canards against the Communist Party, socialism and the people’s leadership […] It has been adequately proved that he has entertained such vicious ideas for a long time”.[37] Qu Anping later issued his own self criticism, admitting that “my erroneous speeches were exploited by our enemies, the Americans and Jiang, who gained the wrong impression that many intellectuals in China stood against the Party and Government”.[38] Self-criticism and public denouncements became commonplace.

Thousands of intellectuals now “wore the hat” of a rightist. As punishment, some went to labor camps and others went through intensive indoctrinations. Their families weren’t even exempt from social criticism. The Anti-rightist Campaign was a brutal response to what the writers perceived as a little bit of breathing room. And the question would remain; how could any Chinese author produce a great literary work under such horrid conditions?

Yang Mo answered this question with her popular novel Song of Youth. It was published in 1958, soon after the conclusion of the Anti-rightist Campaign. The Communist Party wanted to use the female artist’s novel as a representation of how to correctly write a novel, and even so, her work independently became extremely popular. Yang Mo’s creation is considered so valuable because the characters are believable. At the same time, all of the protagonists are good socialists working covertly to undermine the KMT.

It was a perfect blend of politics and feelings. One scene depicts a male comrade and the female protagonist Lin Dao Jing talking about business. They are situated in a dark and damp basement where many revolutionary students plot to overthrow the KMT. The novel takes a lighthearted turn when she asks herself why she “always turned into a babbling child whenever she was with this handsome staunch comrade with a large frame. Why the difference between talking with him and talking with others?”[39] The description of the male comrade is even more telling. Yang Mo writes “this twenty-nine year old man had never experience so strong a power of love as he did now. He had learned to live without love. But he must not waste any more time. Why must he deny himself and continue to suffer and perhaps cause the suffering of his beloved?”[40] This comrade has been so caught up in fighting the revolution that he has not made time to think about his carnal desires. Lin Dao Jing continues to describe her feelings as “a quickened heartbeat, dizziness, and a weakness in [the] knees.”[41] It was this type of language that the Chinese public could really sympathize with. This country had gone through years of bloody conflict and taken such a dramatic turn left that many folks had forgotten about love. Yang Mo was able to take these feelings, which would normally be labeled as bourgeois individualist, and put it in an acceptable story about revolutionary activities. The Party was astounded by the public’s response to Song of Youth, and the quickly invited Yang Mo to write the screenplay for the movie that was released in 1959.

This was the only positive work of literature to come out of the PRC and not be labeled as dissident. Unfortunately, Mao’s attempt at a ‘Great Leap Forward’ assured that for the rest of the 1950’s, good literature would not be published. Mao’s Great Leap Forward movement was an attempt for China to bypass capitalism and go straight to communism by putting the power in the hands of the people. Instead of allowing the Soviets to build bulky factories to produce steel, Mao argued that peasants could harness all their energy together and produce more steel than Great Britain. In addition, Mao challenged all of the Communes to produce more than they ever had before. It was Zhou Yang’s assignment to provide inspirational revolutionary literature to aid the peasants in their quest.

Intellectuals were seen as a stumbling block to this movement. Just like bringing steel production down from a bureaucratic process into the hands of the people, the Great Leap Forward attempted to do the same with literature. Peasant art was considered the finest because it lacked the spiritual pollution of many bourgeois intellectuals. The Writers Union experienced a rapid increase, starting from less than one thousand members in 1957 to over two hundred thousand in 1958.[42] All intellectual thought was put towards increasing agricultural and industrial output. Technical skills took precedence to theoretical study, and using the same logic the Party banned all thought provoking literature and focused only on that which was practical. The national literary journal ren-min wen xue only published writings from workers or peasants. Many of these works took the forms of songs that peasants could sing in the field or revolutionary poetry that could be blasted through loudspeakers. Once again, intellectuals in China were shunned.

Mao’s treatment of the intellectuals during the 1950’s can at best be characterized as horrible. He set his ground rules in 1942, and for the most part stuck to them. Mao was always suspicious of intellectuals. His writings and policies lead one to believe that Mao never saw a useful role for these thinkers. The Party kept a close watch on intellectuals and forcefully controlled their thinking in order for the revolution to take place. Many intellectuals left the 1950’s ‘wearing the cap’ of the Anti-rightist Campaign. Others were marginalized by the peasants and workers who produced revolutionary material during the Great Leap Forward. The vast majority however learned one thing from the intellectual environment of the 1950’s. It was not stable. At any time, for any reason, for a little mishap or miscommunication, the Party could publicly criticize, arrest, and execute at will. It is no wonder the most populous nation in the world had such trouble producing great literature, art, or thinkers during this decade.

Works Cited

Barnstone, Willis, trans. The Poems of Mao Tse-Tung. Bantam Books, 1972.

Goldman, Merle, and Leo Ou Fan Lee, eds. An Intellectual History of Modern China. New York: Cambridge UP, 2002.

Goldman, Merle. China's Intellectuals: Advise and Dissent. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1981.

Goldman, Merle. Literary Dissent in Communist China. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1967.

Goldman, Merle. "The Party and the Intellectuals: Phase Two." An Intellectual History of Modern China. New York: Cambridge UP, 2002. 349-394.

Macfarquhar, Roderick. The Hundred Flowers Campaign and the Chinese Intellectuals. New York: Octagon Books, 1974.

She, Lao. Rickshaw. Trans. Jean M. James. Honolulu: University of Hawaii P, 1979.

Xu, Kai-Yu, and Ting Wang, eds. Literature of the Peoples Republic of China. Indiana: Indiana UP, 1980.



[1] Xu, Kai-Yu. (ed.), 1980. Literature of the Peoples Republic of China. Indiana: Indiana University Press. Pg. 30

[2] Ibid

[3] Ibid

[4] Lao She, Jean M. James (Trans.), 1976. Rickshaw. Honolulu: University of Hawaii. p. 249.

[5] Xu, Kai-Yu. (ed.), 1980. Literature of the Peoples Republic of China. Indiana: Indiana University Press. Pg. 30

[6] Kai Yu Xu. (ed.), 1980, Literature of the Peoples Republic of China. Indiana: Indiana University Press. p. 63.

[7] Ibid

[8] Goldman, Merle. 1967. Literary Dissent in Communist China. Harvard University Press. p. 88

[9] Ibid 89

[10] Ibid 88

[11] ‘The Second Collection of Materials Concerning the Hu Feng Anti-revolutionary Clique.’ Wen-yi-Bao. No, 11:19. 1955.

[12] Goldman, Merle. 1967. Literary Dissent in Communist China. Harvard University Press. p. 133

[13] Goldman, Merle. 1967. Literary Dissent in Communist China. Harvard University Press 135

[14] Ibid

[15] Ibid, 136

[16] Ibid, 137

[17] Goldman, Merle. 1967. Literary Dissent in Communist China. Harvard University Press. p. 141

[18] Ibid, 143

[19] Ibid

[20] Ibid, 148

[21] Goldman, Merle. ‘Literary Dissent in Communist China’. Harvard University Press. 1967. 150

[22] Ibid

[23] Solomon, Richard. 1971. Mao’s Revolution and Chinese Political Culture. Berkley: University of California Press. p 171.

[24] Mao Zedong, ‘Chinese Revolution and the Chinese Communist Party’, Selected Works of Mao Zedong. Vol. II, Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 1965. 322.

[25] Wing Hung Lo, Carlos. 1985. The Legal System and Criminal Responsibility of Intellectuals in the Peoples Republic of China. Occasional Papers/Reprints Series in Contemporary Asian Studies. Baltimore. p. 47

[26] MacFarquar, Roderick. 1974. The One Hundred Flowers Campaign and the Chinese Intellectuals. New York: Octagon Books. p. 18.

[27] Barnstone, Willis. (Trans.). 1972. The Poems Of Mao Tse-tung. Bantam Books.

[28] Barnstone, Willis. (Trans.). 1972. The Poems Of Mao Tse-tung. Bantam Books.

[29] Ibid

[30] Ibid

[31] MacFarquar, Roderick. 1974. The One Hundred Flowers Campaign and the Chinese Intellectuals. New York: Octagon Books. p. 178

[32] Ibid 181

[33] MacFarquar, Roderick. 1974. The One Hundred Flowers Campaign and the Chinese Intellectuals. New York: Octagon Books. p. 182.

[34] Ibid 183

[35] Ibid 176

[36] MacFarquar, Roderick. 1974. The One Hundred Flowers Campaign and the Chinese Intellectuals. New York: Octagon Books. p. 262.

[37] Ibid, 284.

[38] Ibid. 286.

[39] Xu, Kai-Yu. (ed.), 1980. Literature of the Peoples Republic of China. Indiana: Indiana University Press. p. 330.

[40] Ibid

[41] Ibid

[42] Goldman, Merle. 2002. ‘The Party and the Intellectuals: Phase Two’, An Intellectual History of Modern China. Cambridge University Press. p. 351.


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