no use your pasting gold on their faces to make them look like benevolent Buddhas. They are our enemies. But they are your friends. Now, it is quite clear where you stand, isn’t it?’
‘I got to know these people not because I went out of my way to seek their acquaintance or friendship. Most of them I met when my late husband was a diplomat or when he was in charge of the Shanghai Office of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in the old days.’
‘The Shanghai Office of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the reactionary Kuomintang Government! Your husband was a senior official of the reactionary Kuomintang Government and later he became the general manager of a foreign capitalist firm,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Your husband’s career was nothing to be proud of.’
‘He became the general manager of the Shanghai Office of Shell with the approval of the Shanghai Industry and Commerce Department of the People’s Government. The department had to accept his Power of Attorney for the appointment. As for being an official of the Kuomintang Government, he stayed in Shanghai in 1949 instead of going with the Kuomintang Government to Taiwan. Doesn’t that show he supported the Communist Revolution and was ready to welcome the establishment of the People’s Government?’
‘There might have been other reasons why he stayed. We will deal with his case later. Now we want you to denounce British imperialism and confess everything you did for Shell as their faithful agent.’
‘Everything I did for Shell was in accordance with the law and regulations of the People’s Government,’ I declared emphatically.
The new man had not spoken but smoked incessantly, filling the room with the smell of bad tobacco. Now he tossed the butt of his cigarette on the floor and crushed it with his foot. He looked at me steadily for a few seconds to intimidate me before saying, ‘Have you lived a completely blameless life? All your life you have been associated with foreigners, especially the British. Do you mean to say that you have never done anything or said anything that was not altogether correct?’
‘Whether I did or said anything incorrect or not, I know for a certainty that I never did anything against the People’s Government,’ I said firmly.
‘That’s for us to judge. At least you now admit the possibility that you might have done or said something that was incorrect,’ he said with a smile.
‘Nonsense! I admitted no such thing!’ I said.
The new man seemed to me more subtle than the other two. Though he spoke in a quiet voice instead of shouting, I was sure he was looking for an opportunity to trick me. Now he changed the subject, saying, ‘Give a resume of the activities of your office.’
I gave a brief account of our work at the office. When I had finished speaking, the man said, ‘What you have just told us is almost exactly what you have already written. I believe you took the trouble to memorize what you had written. Why this precaution?’
‘What I have told you and what I have written are just the same because facts are the same, no matter how many times you talk about them,’ I said. This interview seemed to have gone on a long time already. I thought of Mr Hu waiting for me so I looked at my watch.
‘Are you in a hurry to be gone? Perhaps you find this conversation uncomfortable?’ The man was enjoying himself, twisting words and situation to suit his purpose.
‘I just think you are wasting your time,’ I said.
‘We are not afraid to waste time. We’re patient. It took us, the Communist Party, twenty-two years to overthrow the Kuomintang Government. But we succeeded in the end. When we set out to achieve our goal, we pursue it to the end.’
There was dead silence. We had reached an impasse. Suddenly the man who spoke at the struggle meeting reverted to his former tactics. He shouted, ‘We won’t let you get away with it! You must provide us with a list of the things you did and said that were wrong, in order to show your sincerity in changing your standpoint. Otherwise, the consequences for you will be serious. We know for a certainty you are a spy for the British!’
This was the first time any of them had actually used the word ‘spy’. Hitherto they had merely hinted at it. Perhaps in the heat of the moment the man exceeded their instructions for the other two glanced at him in surprise.
I laughed at his outburst and said calmly, ‘You are quite wrong. I am no more a spy for anybody than you are.’
The new man said quickly, ‘Perhaps there are things you did or said which you don’t remember offhand. Why don’t you go home and think about it? Write down everything you did and said, no matter how trivial or insignificant. We will give you plenty of time. What about two weeks?’
‘Two years will make no difference. I don’t intend to make up any story,’ I told them.
‘Well, let’s say two weeks. It’s painful to admit mistakes. But it has to be done. Our Great Leader compared confession to having an operation. The operation is painful, but only after it is done can one become a new man. You want to be a good citizen of our socialist state, don’t you? Then you mustn’t lag behind the others. We want you to confess, not because we don’t know the facts already, but because we wish to give you a chance to show your sincerity.’
I wanted to tell him that he was mad, but I bit my lip and remained silent, hoping not to prolong the senseless dialogue.
He took my silence as a sign that I was ready to do what he wanted so he dismissed me by saying, ‘It’s getting late. Go home and think about what I have said. We will call you in two weeks’ time.’
With anger and indignation boiling inside me, I walked out of the building. There were no pedicabs. After waiting at the bus stop for a long time, I had to walk home.
Mr Hu listened to my story in silence. Lao Chao came in to announce dinner. My cook had prepared an excellent meal of Chinese dishes because he knew Mr Hu did not enjoy European cooking. During the meal we did not talk about the unpleasant subject of the Cultural Revolution but discussed my daughter’s and his children’s activities. We were both proud and pleased that our children seemed to have done well in Socialist China in spite of the handicap of their family background.
When we were seated again in the drawing room, I asked Mr Hu a question that had been in my mind all the time I was with my inquisitors.
‘These men gave me the impression that they wanted a confession from me even if I made it up. Could that be the case?’
‘Oh, yes, yes. They don’t care whether it’s true or not as long as they get a confession. That’s what they are after.’
‘But what’s the point? Won’t they themselves get awfully confused if everyone gives a false confession?’ I was genuinely puzzled.
‘To get a confession is their job. If they fail, they may be accused of not supporting the movement. The result is that whenever a political movement takes place, many people are attacked and many confessions are made. Later, when the turmoil is over, the sorting out will be done. Some of those wrongfully dealt with might get rehabilitated.’
‘How long will they have to wait for rehabilitation?’ I asked.
‘Maybe a couple of years. Maybe it would never happen. In each organization about 3 to 5 per cent of the total must be declared the “enemy” because that is the percentage mentioned by Chairman Mao in one of his speeches.’
‘How terrible!’ I exclaimed.
‘Yes, it’s really bad. There isn’t really such a high percentage of people who oppose the People’s Government. To fill their quota, the Party officials often included people whom they disliked, such as those who were disgruntled and troublesome, in the list of enemies. But no individual should make a false confession, no matter how great the pressure is.’ Mr Hu said this with great seriousness. He looked at me steadily as if to make sure I got his message and added, ‘That has always been my policy during each political movement.’
I understood that this was the advice he had come