2013 Ai Xiaoming: Martyred Poet Lin Zhao and Gan Cui

Below I have translated a love story — the story of martyred poet Lin Zhao and two-decades-long ‘prisoner of Mao’ Gan Cui written by Ai Xiaoming on the basis of her 2013 interview with Gan Cui. Retired Sun Yat-sen (Zhongshan) University Professor Ai Xiaoming is the author of the 2012 open letter Zhonghan University (Guanghzou) Chinese Literature Professor Ai Xiaoming’s open letter to the chief judge who decided the appeal on the Tan Zuoren case2012: Ai Xiaoming: The Constitution Insulted, Conscience Humiliated.

Ian Johnson in his 2023 book  Sparks: China’s Underground Historians and Their Battle for the Future has a chapter on Lin Zhao and her fellow democracy activists grouped around the quickly suppressed publication Sparks.

In his April 2024 interview with Elizabeth Lynch, Bucking the system: China’s underground historians , Ian Johnson discusses the on-going suppression of modern PRC history. Not only the more brutal aspects of the Cultural Revolution, but also the lesser-known, at least today, of the Anti-Rightist Movement of the late 1950s that send many ‘rightists’ to prison at hard labor for two decades as well as the Land Reform Movement during the late 1940s and early 1950s that killed off one to two million people who were either landlords or political opponents assimilated to that category by the Party and its local action teams. For more on the Land Reform Movement see Reading Ye Fu’s “Requiem for a Landlord”.

Banned video on YouTube

So many lives were disrupted, ended or cruelly distorted the first incarnation of the PRC — the Mao Zedong years. For the second incarnation, the post 1978 PRC birthed under Hua Guofeng and Deng Xiaoping keeping the bodies buried and creating happy myths of the glorious leader who — while he made mistakes one-third of the time — was basically a good guy and an inspiration as the Chinese Renaissance moves ahead under a new glorious leader who, just like Mao Zedong, is just the right guy for his times.

On this translation blog I too have found modern PRC history and its strain re-interpretations and efforts to recover something like an understanding of what really happened is an inexhaustible subject. See the PRC history category on this blog and particularly translations from modern PRC historians such as Shen Zhihua.

See also Han Zhang’s review of Ian Johnson’s Sparks in The Atlantic:

Chinese Leaders Are Scared of Their Country’s History

A new book explores the Chinese filmmakers, writers, and artists who are trying to uncover a past that the authorities would rather forget.


“Because I still have Lin Zhao in my heart”

—Interview with Lin Zhao’s close friend/comrade-in-arms, Gan Cui

艾晓明:“因为我的心中还有个林昭”(1)

Lin Zhao (January 23, 1932-April 29, 1968) Mr. Gan Cui gave me two photos; this one is a portrait of Lin Zhao. I believe it was originally given to Gan Cui by Lin Zhao herself. On the back of the photo, Mr. Gan Cui wrote a note: “Photographed in 1958, it reads ‘Sharing the fate of being exiled to the margins of society, we feel as if we knew each other well even before we met for the first time.’”

“Because I still have Lin Zhao in my heart”

—Interview with Lin Zhao’s close friend/comrade-in-arms, Gan Cui

Date: November 28, November 30, December 1, 2013

Location: Mr. Gan Cui’s residence in Beijing

Interviewer: Ai Xiaoming

Introducing Gan Cui:

Born in December 1932 in Shaoxing, Zhejiang, China, Gan Cui was directly admitted to the Journalism Department of Renmin University of China in 1955. In 1958, he was labeled as a “rightist” and met Lin Zhao that same year; the following year, he was sent for 20 years of labor reformation. After the “rightists” were rehabilitated in 1979, he returned to Beijing and worked in the Propaganda Department of the Party Committee of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. He later served as the director of the Documentation Section and associate researcher at the Literature Research Institute of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. He retired in 1992 and settled in Beijing. He edited and published the “Dictionary of Chinese Novels” (Dunhuang Art and Literature Publishing House, 1991) and authored “The Soul of Peking University,” published in 2010.

Mr. Gan Cui during an interview, November 28, 2013.

Preface:

大陆禁片《寻找林昭的灵魂》-独立制片人胡杰制作 China’s Banned Movie”Searching for Lin Zhao’s Soul” – Produced by Hu Jie

In 2012, I began searching for Lin Zhao’s manuscripts, which led me to visit some of her comrades-in-arms and classmates. In December 2013, while attending the internet technology company NetEase’s annual conference in Beijing, I had the opportunity to spend three days with Mr. Gan Cui. Mr. Hu Jie had interviewed Mr. Gan Cui for his film “Searching for Lin Zhao’s Soul,” 《寻找林昭的灵魂》which included his memories of Lin Zhao and scenes from his later life. The film also hinted at Mr. Gan Cui’s own experiences, stating that he “spent a hellish twenty-two years in the Production and Construction Corps bingtuan.”

During my interview, I asked Mr. Gan Cui to recount his experiences in the corps; these were memories intertwined with historical tragedy and personal suffering. Gan Cui was an old revolutionary who joined the PLA in 1949. Like Lin Zhao, he embraced communist ideals with passion in his youth. However, after the Anti-Rightist Campaign in 1957, especially because of his love for Lin Zhao, he was sent to the Corps and endured tremendous hardships. To escape the hardships of labor reform, he fled and became a drifter, even begging for a living, and was once captured and tortured as a suspected Soviet spy… His testimony reveals how a person’s entire life could be impacted and distorted by the anti-rightist movement.

For the convenience of readers, I added subheadings based on the content of the interview. Since I never had the chance to meet Mr. Gan Cui again, there may be minor errors in the names and places mentioned in the text. At the time, Mr. Gan Cui was advanced in age, his hearing had declined, and he did not use email; and since I did not return to Beijing, I was unable to verify the text with him in person.

I am grateful to Mr. Gan Cui for accepting my interview over several days, which may have been his last detailed account of the years of suffering he and Lin Zhao’s generation endured. As I compiled this interview in 2014, Mr. Gan Cui passed away suddenly due to heart failure at 1:37 a.m. on October 23 of that year, at the age of 83.

The author Ai Xiaoming with Mr. Gan Cui, December 1, 2013.

This article is dedicated to the memory of Lin Zhao and her contemporaries, the thinkers of her time.

  1.  “How did you get Lin Zhao’s manuscript of 140,000 words?”

Q: Mr. Gan, thank you for accepting my interview.

A: It’s very meaningful and urgent work that you’re doing. In a little while, all of us old folks will slowly pass away, and then it will be impossible to find anyone who can bear witness to those days. It’s best to be direct; ask whatever you want to know.

Q: Alright. My first question is, how did you come into possession of the 140,000-word manuscript?

A: It came from Lin Zhao’s sister… It’s said that the court gave the 140,000-word manuscript to Lin Zhao’s sister. Lin Zhao’s sister came to Beijing, and her uncle was Xu Juemiin 许觉民, who has unfortunately passed away. Xu Juemin was the director of our Literature Institute at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, and his wife, Zhang Mulan, was my classmate in the Journalism Department at Renmin University. She wasn’t labeled a rightist, but she was implicated, accused of right-leaning opportunism…

After I returned to Beijing in 1979, I worked on the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences’ party newspaper at the Propaganda Department. Every Saturday, when I had nothing else to do, I would visit my classmate Zhang Mulan’s home. Her husband, Xu Juemin, was also my direct superior. One time, I saw Lin Zhao’s sister there. It was strange; Lin Zhao’s sister had come to Beijing to resolve Lin Zhao’s issues and had gone to her uncle Xu Juemin’s house. That was the first time I met Lin Zhao’s sister, but I knew her—I had been to Lin Zhao’s home in 1959. During this meeting, Lin Zhao’s sister told me about Lin Zhao’s fate, saying she had been executed by firing squad. This is how I learned that Lin Zhao was no longer living.

How did the 140,000-word manuscript get into my hands? It’s said that the court gave it to Lin Zhao’s sister, who then made a copy for Xu Juemin—her uncle. Xu Juemin gave me a copy because her handwriting was too small, and he couldn’t see it due to his age. Xu Juemin asked me to read it and copy it down, with the idea of seeing if it could be published. Xu Juemin used to be the chief editor at the “People’s Literature” publishing house, and he knew many people in the publishing industry. So, I read it and copied it down. Frankly, I was the only one who could read Lin Zhao’s handwriting.

After copying it, I told Xu Juemin that some content was problematic because it discussed a lot matters connected to Shanghai Mayor Ke Qingshi. Xu Juemin asked if we could remove the inappropriate parts and then try to publish it. Later, I looked at it again and told Xu Juemin that it couldn’t be changed or deleted; any deletion would alter Lin Zhao’s original tone. The document had to be published as is, without deletions.

We eventually dropped the matter, so the manuscript remained with me. After I copied it, I gave it to Hu Jie. Hu Jie took the photocopy (the one Lin Zhao’s sister gave to Xu Juemin) and the 140,000-word manuscript I had transcribed, traveling back and forth between Nanjing and Beijing many times. It took me about four months to copy it. Hu Jie’s interview with me was intended to preserve the memory of  Lin Zhao, and I fully supported it. I gave all the photocopies I had transcribed to Hu Jie, and some of them appeared in his documentary. He eventually returned them all to me. That’s the story behind the manuscript.

Now, there’s a twist to the manuscript story that I’ll mention briefly. Jiang Wenqin contacted me, and I made another copy of the 140,000-word manuscript and the photocopy, which I sent to Jiang Wenqin. Jiang Wenqin said it wasn’t clear enough; he wanted to see the original manuscript that Lin Zhao’s sister had given to Xu Juemin and then passed on to me. Thinking of honoring Lin Zhao’s memory, I fully supported the idea and passed along the manuscript to Jiang Wenqin. Jiang Wenqin deserves credit; I had transcribed the 140,000 words by pen, but after he entered it into the computer, it could be printed out. I don’t know how to use a computer; that’s his contribution.

I’ve learned that Lin Zhao’s sister has donated all these manuscripts to the Hoover Institution in the United States. The copy I have is not Lin Zhao’s original manuscript; it’s a photocopy returned to Lin Zhao’s sister by the court. The original is not with me; it’s in the United States.

Q: When did you receive Lin Zhao’s manuscript?

A: I transcribed the manuscript and then wrote the date at the end; it was July 11, 2000. It took me about four months in all.

Q: So, did you meet Peng Lingfan in 1999?

A: No, I met her much earlier.

I returned to Beijing in 1979 to implement the policy. I saw Peng Lingfan in 1979 and 1980. She came to Peking University to resolve Lin Zhao’s rightist issue, and that’s when I learned about Lin Zhao’s situation. I had been in Xinjiang for twenty years and had no idea.

Peng Lingfan left for abroad in June 2004. Before leaving, she left a photocopy of the manuscript with her uncle. Her uncle and Ni Jingxiong went with her to see her off abroad, leaving only the manuscript of the 140,000-word book with Xu Juemin. In fact, Peking University’s centennial became a focus of public attention because of Lin Zhao’s case in 1998, highlighting the value of the 140,000-word book. In the centennial year of Peking University in 1998, Southern Weekend and Wuhan published commemorative articles, all discussing Lin Zhao’s issue at that time. Peng Lingfan also wrote a memoir in the United States titled “My Sister and I.”《我和姐姐》

We have to thank Hu Jie for Lin Zhao’s case; it wouldn’t have been possible without him. I fully supported Hu Jie; without that book of 140,000 words, it wouldn’t work, and just my copied photocopy wouldn’t suffice either. After I copied it, I gave a copy to Xu Juemin, but Xu Juemin was too old to read it. Without Hu Jie’s film “Searching for Lin Zhao’s Soul,” Lin Zhao’s case wouldn’t have been so sensational later on.

Q: Is this the original manuscript you copied by hand?

A: This is the original manuscript I copied by hand.

Q: How many pages are there in total?

A: 469 pages.

Q: Had you retired by then?

A: I had retired, yes.

Q: It took four months to copy?

A: At that time, my plan was to copy over a thousand words a day. It’s 137 pages, so I copied one page a day, which was very hard on the eyes. This is a version organized by Hu Jie based on my handwritten manuscript, which he named Prison Letters of a Woman. 《女牢书简》 I think he did a good job with this version; he removed those parts that shouldn’t be there, like Ke Qing and others. This is Hu Jie’s version, which he gave to me.

Gan Cui transcribed Lin Zhao’s manuscript based on this photocopy.
  1. “Heartbreak in Iron Lion Alley”  

Q: How did you and Lin Zhao break up? I read about it in your memoir, but Hu Jie’s documentary didn’t cover it much.

A: Lin Zhao and I were together for about a year. During that year, the Chinese Literature Department’s Journalism major at Peking University merged with the Journalism Department at Renmin University. The specific location of the merger was at No. 1 Iron Lion Alley, which is now No. 3 Zhang Zizhong Road. It used to be Duan Qirui’s presidential palace, and even earlier, it was the Naval Department built by Empress Dowager Cixi during the Qing Dynasty.

No. 3 Zhang Zizhong Road is a cultural heritage site, divided into three parts: the middle part with the bell and drum tower and the garden in the back, which is still occupied by the Renmin University Press. The eastern part was later allocated to the Institute of Eastern Europe, West Asia and Africa, and the Japan Institute of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. The western part is a red wall with a six-story building, was built by Renmin University as staff dormitories. There were only two departments in the city campus of Renmin University, the Historical Archives Department and the Journalism Department.

In 1958, when I met Lin Zhao, it was still very cold. Renmin University, like Peking University, was anti-rightist, basically taking two steps: the first time Renmin University was anti-rightist, two hundred rightists among teachers and students were identified. This was not enough; the target given from above was four hundred. By the end of the anti-rightist campaign in 1957, I was not yet a rightist. In 1958, during the second round of supplementary make-up investigation, another two hundred rightists were identified. I was one of the latter two hundred rightists; Renmin University identified a total of four hundred rightists. Lin Zhao, I guess, because I wasn’t at Peking University, was definitely also identified as a rightist later. She has done to Renmin University, and according to records, it was around May or June, which is when Peking University merged with Renmin University. My impression might be a bit earlier. Luo Lie, the head of Peking University’s Journalism Department, brought her over. She was arranged to work in the Journalism Department’s Archives Department at Renmin University, under reform through labor supervision.

1959 was my fourth year in Renmin University’s Journalism Department. The specific content of that year was half a year of internship and half a year of thesis writing. I didn’t get to do the internship; I was expelled from the Party, and so I wasn’t required to write a thesis either. The Journalism Department said to go to the Archives Department for labor reform.

There were about a dozen or twenty of us rightists there. At first, we swept trash and picked up banana peels on campus. Finally, when school started, I was called to the Journalism Department’s Archives Department. When I got there, Lin Zhao was already there. There weren’t many people in there, just three of us, and the head was Wang Qian 王前. Wang Qian was a former wife of Liu Shaoqi before he married Wang Guangmei. She was the boss for Lin Zhao and me. Wang Qian said, “Now the Central Propaganda Department of the Communist Party of China has entrusted Renmin University’s Journalism Department to compile the history of CCP publications; you two look at some newspapers from the Nationalist period, collect information, and make cards for the history of CCP publications.” At that time, we both went to work every day in piles of books and newspapers, and that’s how I got to know Lin Zhao.

I remember very clearly, when I went there, the weather was still quite cold. I pushed open the office door and went in, and Lin Zhao was there alone. She had just boiled water and was preparing to make tea, and she even made a cup for me. She said the tea leaves were from Wang Qian, and I knew Wang Qian was the wife of Renmin University’s vice president Nie Zhen 聂真 . She was certainly a high-ranking official. That’s how we met, and that was our first encounter.

At that time, Lin Zhao was ill, like Lin Daiyu, actually suffering from lung disease, coughing, and spitting up blood in her phlegm. Wang Qian told me: “You’re a man, and Lin Zhao is a woman; take care of Lin Zhao when you can.” Wang Qian was very sympathetic to us two rightists, and she especially liked Lin Zhao; they could talk to each other.

As time went on, sometimes Lin Zhao didn’t come to work, and I knew she was sick. I would go to see her; she lived on the eastern side of Iron Lion Alley, which is now part of the area occupied by the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. On the second floor of that building, there was a small room, about ten square meters. I went to see her and felt very sorry for her, so I helped her fetch water and buy food.

Renmin University didn’t have heating at that time, and the dormitories were all large dorms with coal stoves kept burning by workers. Lin Zhao was a rightist, and no one cared about her. I saw that her room was very cold, so after the Spring Festival, I went to the general affairs office and got an iron stove. I installed the stove and the ventilation pipe for her. I also went to the back of Iron Lion Alley where the honeycomb coal was piled up, found a basket, filled it with coal, and carried it up to the second floor to Lin Zhao’s room. I also took some firewood and chopped wood, and placed them there. I took some chopped wood and started the stove in Lin Zhao’s room, and the room immediately warmed up.

Usually, just the two of us rightists went to work, and we didn’t talk much. We both went to the back of her house to read books and newspapers. Lin Zhao was better than me at classical literature; she read all the ancient thread-bound books and note novels. Those were all in classical Chinese, which I didn’t like to read, so I just read the modern published ones.

Q: So you two didn’t read newspapers or study the history of Chinese Communist Party publications?

A: We looked at newspapers a little and made a few cards to get by. At first, we still looked for newspapers to read, but then we each read our own books.

From my interactions and conversations with her, I really admired Lin Zhao. Lin Zhao was indeed a talented woman; her level of classical literature far exceeded mine. I only learned a bit of Chinese classical literature at Renmin University, like the Classic of Poetry 詩經 which was just superficial knowledge. We talked slowly and got along well.

Additionally, I tried my best to take care of her in life, lighting the stove for her, carrying coal, and buying food for her in the cafeteria. I remember most clearly that later, when we developed feelings and she fell ill, she couldn’t eat the food from the student cafeteria, which was just cornbread in the morning, cornmeal porridge, and a lump of pickled vegetables. For students at Renmin University, a month’s food expenses were about five or six yuan. If we ate a little better, sometimes having some meat dishes, it would be about seven or eight yuan a month. But Lin Zhao didn’t eat breakfast, which worried me. Later, I figured out a way; every morning, I would take the trolleybus on Zhang Zizhong Road for two or three stops to Dongsi. There was a Cantonese restaurant there that sold Cantonese pork congee in the morning. I would eat a bowl myself and then buy another bowl – they were about fifteen cents each – and bring it back to school for Lin Zhao. The Cantonese pork congee was considered more upscale—she would eat it. That’s how we went from meeting to getting to know each other; we worked together, took care of each other in life, got along well, and sometimes went out together.

Scene from the 1958 Tian Han play “Guan Hanqing”

Every Sunday, I would go out with Lin Zhao to stroll in the park or visit Beihai because Zhang Zizhong Road led straight to Beihai, where we could go boating and watch plays.

Q: What plays did you watch then?

A: We watched plays like “Guan Hanqing” [Note: Drama written by modern playwright Tian Han that premiered at the Beijing People’s Art Theater in 1958 about the Yuan Dynasty playwright Guan Hanqing, the author of “The Injustice to Dou E” End note] and “The Injustice to Dou E.” [aka Snow in Midsummer]  I remember very clearly it was “The Injustice to Dou E.” She had a classmate named Ni Jingxiong, who was a playwright for Shanghai opera. Sometimes when she came to Beijing for meetings, she would have some tickets, and she gave them to me and Lin Zhao to watch, and we even sat in the best seats, in the first row.

Liu Tianhua’s “Moaning in Sickness,

At that time, Lin Zhao lived on the second floor, and when I was alone with nothing to do, I would play the erhu in the corridor on the first floor. I could play the erhu, but not well. I played Liu Tianhua’s “Moaning in Sickness,” 劉天華 病中吟 and Lin Zhao, in her room, would hear the erhu’s plaintive and melancholic sound and open the window to listen. Later, she found out it was me playing. She said I had also written a song, which led to her writing this song.

Let me hum it for you:

In the stormy night, 

I think of you, 

Outside my window is night, the wind howling, 

Raindrops pour, 

Yet my heart, 

Flies away to find you, 

Where are you, where are you?

Are you exiled in the vast wilderness, 

Or buried in the cold depths of a prison, 

Ah, brother oh brother, 

My song searches for you, 

My heart bleeds for you, 

Brother brother, 

Where are you, where are you?

This is a song written by Lin Zhao.  I sang it at Lin Zhao’s memorial service.

Q: Did she write it down at the time?

A: When we were together, she wrote it down and sang it to me, after I played “Moaning in Sickness.

Q: Did you discuss the meaning of the lyrics with her?

A: No we didn’t.

In the 1950s, rumors spread that I was dating her. The rumors reached the leadership, and they called me in for a talk, asking if it was true. I said it wasn’t. The leadership said we shouldn’t date, that we two rightists should focus on reforming ourselves. Then, Lin Zhao asked me what we talked about? I said they forbade us from dating. Lin Zhao laughed when she heard this and asked if I was afraid? I said I wasn’t. She said if you’re not afraid, good, we haven’t dated before, but now let’s really date and show them.

So, every day, especially at ten o’clock in the morning during the work break exercises, Lin Zhao would hold my hand, and we would walk hand in hand inside Renmin University’s Iron Lion Alley for everyone to see. Iron Lion Alley used to be Duan Qirui’s presidential palace, and there was a small garden in the back with a pond and a rockery; we would walk around there. You say we’re dating, so we’re dating, showing it all out in the open. In this way, we really did date. The Party branch of the Journalism Department didn’t like me, and later they sent me to Xinjiang as punishment. That was also because of this.

Time passed quickly, and we were together for a year. Finally, on September 1st, the new semester was about to start. I was facing being sent elsewhere on an assignment. Whether I graduated or not, I would be sent away. I thought about it and went to the party branch secretary to say I wanted to marry Lin Zhao; I hoped that when I was assigned in 1959, they wouldn’t send me too far away and would take care of me a little. But the response I got was, “You pair of Rightists! That’s just your own wishful thinking!” As a result, I was sent to the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps bingtuan.

Lin Zhao was also helpless under the household registration system; if you didn’t comply with the assignment, you had no household registration, no work, and no food or cloth coupons. There was no way. I remember very clearly, Lin Zhao still secretly held small meetings with other rightists, like Jiang Zehu and Wu Shangyu from Peking University, but there was nothing they could do. Later, helplessly, they announced my assignment to the bingtuan. I refused to go, and the school urged me to go, playing both good cop and bad cop. I just refused to go, but in the end, it was no use, the new semester was about to start, and all the graduates had left.

Later, I didn’t know some things, but it was said that Lin Zhao’s mother came to Beijing. She was a democrat, probably knew people like Shi Liang 史良. It may be that she went to see Shi Liang, who then went to see Wu Yuzhang 吴玉章 , the president of Renmin University. These are things I heard, I didn’t learn of them directly, nor did I see her mother; later, Lin Zhao was approved to return to Shanghai for treatment.

So, I sent Lin Zhao on the train to Shanghai first. I remember writing about the scene of sending her on the train in my memoir.

Q: How did you explain the situation to Lin Zhao at the time? What did Lin Zhao tell you about her going back to Shanghai and what to do next?

A: She just said one sentence, she said “Gan Zi, wait for me”. Just that one sentence, then I saw her off to her train. When the train was about to leave, Lin Zhao and I hugged and cried in the carriage. Then the train started moving, and I had no choice but to jump off the train. At that time, everyone in the train car was surprised: what’s with this young couple… such a scene of hugging and crying was rarely seen in those days.

Q: How old were you that year?

A: About twenty-seven years old.

Q: And Lin Zhao?

A: Lin Zhao was the same age as me, but actually, she was one year older than me. After her mother gave birth to her, she hid her age for a year, so she was actually born in the year of the sheep.

Photo of Lin Zhao and Gan Cui (Mr. Gan Cui wrote on the back of the photo: Lin Zhao and I photographed at Jingshan Park in Beijing.)

Photo of Lin Zhao and Gan Cui (Mr. Gan Cui wrote on the back of the photo: Lin Zhao and I photographed at Jingshan Park in Beijing.)

III.  Twenty Years of Reformation Through Labor

  1. My First Escape Back to Shanghai

After seeing off Lin Zhao, Renmin University urged me to leave, so I packed up and set out. At that time, there were no trains to Xinjiang, so I took a train to a place called Weiya, which borders Lanzhou. It took four days by train to get to Weiya. After getting off the train in Weiya, I took a three-day bus ride to the Xinjiang Autonomous Region Personnel Office to report. The Personnel Office told me to go to the bingtuan Corps, and they sent me there. The Corps then said, “Go to the Second Agricultural Division.” The Second Agricultural Division is in southern Xinjiang, with its headquarters in Yanji, now Korla. I arrived in Yanji and waited at the guesthouse for my assignment. Many people came and went from the guesthouse of the Second Agricultural Division, and many ran away from the labor reform farms below, saying how hard and inhumane the labor reform farms were, which scared me…

Q: What things were inhumane and frightening?

A: Those people got up before dawn, were forced to work under the threat of guns, carried heavy loads, and were never fed enough. Beatings and scoldings happened all the time. Just hearing about it scared me.

I joined the PLA in 1949 and had always been an officer. I never experienced such things. They assigned me to a labor reform farm called Tarim Four, which is now the Thirty-Second Regiment. After hearing this, I was scared, still thinking of Lin Zhao, so I turned around and ran back to the Urumqi bus station, sold all my luggage and clothes on the roadside, gathered some money, took a bus back to Weiya, and then took a train through Lanzhou back to Shanghai.

Back in Shanghai, I went to find Lin Zhao. But Lin Zhao’s mother was cold to me, and Lin Zhao couldn’t do anything for me either.  I slowly walked out of her home on Maoming South Road, walked from Nanjing Road to the Bund, and wandered in the Bund Park until night…

I thought to myself, look at how big Shanghai is, with its brilliant lights and so many people, yet there’s no place for me to live here. It’s really hopeless. I have a mother and a sister at home, both dependent on my older brother and his wife. I couldn’t stay at home because I had no money, no household registration, and no food or cloth ration coupons. I stayed in Shanghai for a week, and on a Sunday, I even attended a service with Lin Zhao at the cathedral on Urumqi Road in Xuhui District. In the end, I had no means to live, no money…

Q: Where did you stay at night?

A: I stayed at my brother’s house at night. My mother was still there, but it wasn’t feasible to stay long-term. In the end, I had no choice. My brother and sister-in-law prepared a set of bedding and cotton clothes for me, and I took the train from Shanghai to Lanzhou and returned to Xinjiang. That’s how I reported to Tarim Four and went to work.

2. Vague Dreams

That’s how I started my life at Tarim Four. Basically, I wrote to Lin Zhao every week, and she wrote back to me. Of course, the letters had to be checked. The guards in the labor reform team would read them before sending them out. When letters arrived, they would open them first, read them, and then give them to me.

Q: What did you write about?

A: The letters were very short, and I can’t remember the content anymore. They were brief, but there were always replies. After a while, I only sent letters without getting any replies. I was puzzled. I even wrote to her mother, but there was no reply, no one paid attention to me.

As time went on, we had young people from Shanghai who were sent to the border, and they were also dissatisfied there. But they started work half an hour later than us and finished half an hour earlier, just a little bit better. There was a young man from Shanghai who I got along with well, and he wanted to return to Shanghai. He took leave to visit relatives in Shanghai and never came back. I told him, “When you go back to Shanghai, do me a favor: you know 179 Alley, 11 Maoming South Road, right? Help me check on a friend named Lin Zhao.” He agreed.

After he returned to Shanghai, he sent me a letter; he said he went to see Lin Zhao, and Lin Zhao was seriously ill in the hospital, with no known discharge date. I understood the letter because I knew Lin Zhao’s personality; I was sure she must have been imprisoned. That’s how the matter passed.

Many years later, strangely, on May 1st, I suddenly had a dream. This wasn’t superstition: Lin Zhao, dressed in mourning clothes, holding a coffin, walked towards me. I was puzzled. After waking up the next day, I told an old monk from Emei Mountain, who was also undergoing labor reform, about the dream. I asked him to interpret it for me, and he said dreams are the opposite; it means your beloved Lin Zhao has gotten married. Wearing mourning clothes and holding a coffin is like a bridal sedan; you should stop thinking about her.

The monk interpreted it this way, and that’s what I believed. So, for many years, over twenty years, there was no news of Lin Zhao. Only in 1979, when the reform and rectification of improper sentences policies were implemented and I returned to Beijing, at Xu Juemin’s house, my classmate Zhang Mu Lan’s house, did I see her—Lin Zhao’s sister—and learned that Lin Zhao had been executed by firing squad.

When I calculated the date, it was the 29th of the month I had the dream, and I had the dream in May. It’s strange. I believe people have souls, and after she died, her soul had a few days to move around. Isn’t there a saying among the Chinese people that the soul returns after seven days? I guess her soul flew to Tarim Four to say goodbye to me.

IV.  Witnessing and Transcribing Lin Zhao’s Works

Q: Later, when you saw Lin Zhao’s 140,000-word book, did you believe it was written by Lin Zhao during the transcription process?

A: I believed it because I recognized Lin Zhao’s handwriting. When Lin Zhao and I were together, she would read books when she had nothing else to do. She read those thread-bound ancient books, which were all note-style novels.

Q: Do you remember any of the books, their titles?

A: I can’t remember; they were all note-style novels. And at that time, she was writing poetry. There are two poems that can still be seen today, one is ‘A Day in the Suffering of Prometheus,’ 林昭:普羅米修斯受難的一日 and the other is ‘The Seagull’s Song.’ 林昭:海鸥之歌 She wrote and revised these two long poems every day, showing them to me as she wrote and revised them.

Q: Did you see these two long poems at the time?

A: There was another; she adapted a script, which I also saw.

Q: What kind of script?

A: It was Lu Xun’s short story ‘The New Year’s Sacrifice.’《伤逝》 She showed it to me as she wrote it and asked me to suggest changes. In the end, the conclusion was to take the dog to the suburbs and abandon it again. She kept writing and revising these two poems until we parted, and she was still revising them.

Lin Zhao’s handwriting was very beautiful. Later, when I transcribed Lin Zhao’s manuscripts, it was my love for Lin Zhao that supported me. It was painful to transcribe because I thought of the times we spent together. I transcribed it with great determination, mainly because Hu Jie also needed it. I transcribed a bit, and he took a bit; it wasn’t like I transcribed everything and then gave it to him. He often came to Beijing, and Hu Jie compiled a concise version of Lin Zhao’s 140,000 words, which he gave to me; he deleted all the parts about Shanghai Mayor Ke Qingshi.

Q: When you transcribed Lin Zhao’s manuscript and saw those sharp criticisms, did you ever think that if Lin Zhao hadn’t done this, she might have preserved her life?

A: I understood Lin Zhao. This XXX [Note: in original. Perhaps it stands for the ruling party. End note] is too evil, without humanity. If they had given us two rightists a little way out, it wouldn’t have come to this. Although I later returned to Shanghai, her mother was opposed to me being with Lin Zhao; but as long as they didn’t separate us too far, allowing me to still contact Lin Zhao, perhaps she wouldn’t have taken such a desperate path. If I had been there, I would have taken care of her.

I thought differently from her… I always advised her, telling her that it was like an egg hitting a rock; she said she still wanted to hit the rock. But I thought, as long as they gave us a way out, let us live together, Lin Zhao was also a person who wanted to live. Letting us live together would have been better. She wouldn’t have been so radical, but Lin Zhao’s nature wouldn’t have changed.

Q: How did you assess her mental state when she wrote the 140,000-word book?

A: After reading it, I had a question, but your article resolved it for me; I think your analysis is correct. We’ve also been on the same labor reform team, and it’s impossible for people undergoing reform through labor to be so free and at ease. It’s impossible for a labor reformer to have the time and freedom to write.

I’ve been on a labor reform team, and no matter who you are, you’re there to work. Our labor reform team at that time had a characteristic because it was a peaceful liberation. The PLA announced a peaceful uprising, and the Nationalist troops became the PLA, still serving as company and platoon leaders; these labor reform teams were managed by them, how could you expect good treatment? Because they were essentially the Nationalists. One labor reform team leader said, “We don’t beat or scold people, but I’ll make you work and work and work, and if you die of exhaustion, I’m not at fault.” That’s how ruthless he was, he would drive people to death through exhaustion.

Lin Zhao was able to write the 140,000-word book and other things we found later in prison, and I originally had a question about how she could have the freedom to write. How could the prison allow her to do that? This is what you analyzed, and I agree with it. Because in the end, Lin Zhao kept causing trouble, becoming the so-called madwoman in the prison that couldn’t be controlled. You want a pen, you want paper, they give it to you. They wanted her to be quiet, not to make trouble, so they let her write. The guards at Tilanqiao Prison couldn’t handle her. They were very cruel to her, using handcuffs both ways, but they couldn’t subdue her. Lin Zhao continued to make trouble, causing headaches for the guards. So they let her write, just to have some peace. I think this explanation makes sense.

I had an idea before that I hadn’t realized, and now I can’t. The story of Lin Zhao and me is a good subject, just one year, from meeting to getting to know each other, to falling in love, and finally parting. It could make a very touching story, but I can’t write it. I even thought of the title, “Heartbreak at Iron Lion Number One”; if written well, it would be very moving. Sometimes I want to write, but when I pick up the pen, I’m too heartbroken to continue.

I think what you are doing is very meaningful. If we don’t do it now, all of us old folks will be gone one by one, and then it will be impossible to do anything. Fortunately, Hu Jie made the first documentary “Searching for Lin Zhao’s Soul,” which brought it up.

Q: What difficulties did you encounter when transcribing Lin Zhao’s manuscript?

A: Some parts of the photocopy were not very clear, but I am the most familiar with Lin Zhao’s handwriting; others couldn’t transcribe it.

Q: Did you find those critical comments impactful? Or could you accept them?

A: I could accept them because my thoughts were in line with hers. I spent twenty years there, living a subhuman life, just forced labor. Why didn’t I die? I said I was young, I wanted to see that person die before me; I wanted to see what this society would become, I had that kind of hope.

For me personally, there was no hope left, being a rightist was a lifelong label. Labor reformers have a sentence of ten or eight years, and after ten or eight years, they are eventually released. But rightists have no sentence; once you’re reformed, they announce the removal of your label, but I saw through it.

Q: In what state do you think it would be ideal for Lin Zhao’s manuscripts to be presented?

A: I hope that one day, these manuscripts will be organized and printed for the world to see; those interested can study them… I think the main value of what Lin Zhao left behind lies in the 140,000-word book. These 140,000 words have already shown the spirit of Lin Zhao, the person, the girl. She persisted until the last moment of her life in such circumstances. This spirit is worthy of people’s admiration and learning.

I think research on Lin Zhao should be broad rather than detailed.

Q: What do you consider to be detailed?

A: Like what you… like what Zhu Yi is doing now, I don’t oppose it, it’s good to do it this way. But I won’t study it. The 140,000 words have already established Lin Zhao’s image. She resolutely opposed the Z system, opposed XXX, she is the image of a female hero.

I told Xu Juemin early on that we could understand the parts about Ke Qing. I am also a rightist, I have also despaired, I have also had delusions. When a person reaches that point, these problems are there, and they are understandable. Don’t study those too finely…

Author’s Bio: Ai Xiaoming: Scholar. Formerly a professor in the Chinese Department at Sun Yat-sen University, now retired. This article was published with the author’s permission.

Related Reading:

  • Ai Xiaoming: Ten Thousand Letters, Plus Four (Part 1) 
  • Ai Xiaoming: Ten Thousand Letters, Plus Four (Part 2) 
  • Ai Xiaoming: Whether or Not Love Favors Us, May You and I Still Have the Ability to Be Happy 
  • Ai Xiaoming: A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Listen to conscience, speak from the heart. I write what I feel. Submission email: yimeiyuandi@163.com

———————–

The Real Reason Why the Martyr Lin Zhao Fell in Love with Ke Qingshi in Prison

烈女林昭在狱中爱上柯庆施的真正原因

by Ai Xiaoming

In Lin Zhao’s “140,000-Word Letter,” a significant portion is dedicated to her posthumous ghost marriage   [Chinese: 冥婚; pinyin: mínghūn; lit. ‘spirit marriage’] to Ke Qingshi, the former Mayor of Shanghai who had already himself passed away on April 9, 1965. 

This topic is also a major theme in her nearly 200,000-word work “Ling Ou Xu Yu.” From the “140,000-Word Letter,” it is evident that Lin Zhao’s passionate and frenzied imagination of a posthumous marriage initially stemmed from her conjecture. Since the Anti-Rightist Movement, victims have suffered by association, and the ruling party has been intolerant of dissent. 

Lin Zhao was deeply aware of this and knew that the wrongful accusations were hard to overturn. She speculated that the sudden news of Ke Qingshi’s death was inevitably linked to her because she had written two appeal letters to Ke Qingshi after being sentenced to twenty years in prison, and Ke Qingshi had a good reputation among some intellectuals in Shanghai. This article is excerpted from Ai Xiaoming’s studio blog, authored by Ai Xiaoming, and originally titled “The Youth of the Deceased Remains Forever – In Remembrance of Lin Zhao in the Year of Gui Si.

On a December night in 2012, I lay awake in a small hotel room in a city in Zhejiang, surrounded by stacks of photocopies of Lin Zhao’s manuscripts. Throughout the night, I read through these prison letters and diaries, feeling as if I had encountered a miracle. I heard Lin Zhao’s voice echoing repeatedly in the room:

I vehemently denounce such atrocious acts of persecution with my blood! Remember this, you and everyone else: if I die, it will be because they have tormented, abused, and tortured me to death!” “This letter is unlikely to be mailed out, but at least it can serve as one piece of evidence for the future!”

With a belief in writing for the future, Lin Zhao left behind hundreds of thousands of words in her prison writings. The family letters I refer to are found in her “Memorandum Twenty-Seven: Blood Letters to My Mother (Including Blood Protest),” which includes letters from October 4, 1966, to January 14, 1968. The last letter is widely circulated online, where Lin Zhao added a postscript listing items she needed and requested various foods from her mother that she imagined. This was two weeks before the Chinese New Year in 1968, just three and a half months before the end of Lin Zhao’s life.

Lin Zhao’s Sentencing and Additional Punishment

Lin Zhao is generally recorded as being born in 1932, but she was actually born in 1931. Friends of Lin Zhao mentioned in the edited collection that in the Jiangsu and Zhejiang regions, it was believed that girls born in the Year of the Sheep would have a difficult fate, so her year of her birth was changed to 1932. Lin Zhao’s parents were modern educators who embraced the ideal of reforming China and actively participated in social politics. Lin Zhao pursued progress during her high school years and joined the Communist Party of China at the age of 17. In 1954, she entered Peking University’s Department of Chinese Language and Literature with the highest score from Jiangsu Province. In 1957, she supported the views of rightist students and was labeled a rightist in 1958. Because of her poor health, she was not sent away for labor re-education but remained under observation at the university. In 1959, she returned to Shanghai with her mother for medical treatment, at the age of 28.

Lin Zhao experienced two imprisonments and two sentences. The first sentence was issued on May 31, 1965, and the reason for her first imprisonment in 1960 was, astonishingly, for writing poetry! Lin Zhao “wrote the reactionary long poem ‘Seagull,’ slandering and attacking the Anti-Rightist Movement.” Lin Zhao’s poetry was passed on to friends and relatives, leading her to meet a group of friends from Lanzhou University who also sought democracy and freedom. They too had been labeled rightists and sent to rural areas like Tianshui and Wushan for reformation. After experiencing the destruction and suffering of peasants following the Great Leap Forward, these victims began to gather. Core members and pioneers like Zhang Chunyuan came to Shanghai to communicate with Lin Zhao, determined to stand up and turn the tide.

That year, “Spark” was launched in the countryside, and Gu Yan sharply pointed out in the foreword: “If such a dictatorship insists on being called socialism, it should be a kind of state socialism monopolized by political oligarchs, belonging to the same type as Nazi national socialism, and having nothing in common with true socialism.” In October of that year, Gansu began a large-scale arrest of “Starfire” members. Lin Zhao’s long poem “Prometheus’ Day of Suffering” was published in the first issue of “Starfire,” and “Song of the Seagull” was prepared for the second issue, which was not yet printed. On October 24, 1960, Lin Zhao was arrested in Shanghai. A month later, her father committed suicide due to the shock and despair.

On March 5, 1962, after her mother’s efforts, the prison authorities agreed to release Lin Zhao for medical treatment on the basis of her lung disease. According to historical materials provided by Tan Chanyue, a survivor of the “Spark” case, in her book “Seeking,” Lin Zhao wrote a “Review and Examination of My Personal Thought Process” before her release. In today’s terms, it could be called a “thought review”/self-criticism. In it, Lin Zhao detailed her ideological experiences before and after the Anti-Rightist Movement and clearly expressed her renewed trust in the Party:

Today, although the political reforms carried out by the Party over the past year are still just beginning in many places, they have already achieved considerable results, showing that the Party still harbors the vitality to continue moving forward, endlessly growing and strengthening. This is not as dark, corrupt, and confused as we had seen and determined. Conversely, this also proves that our confrontational attitude and decisive approach to the Party in politics at that time were an excessive mistake.

The Party’s political line has been fundamentally reformed! — Such a Party, I can and feel is worth supporting again!

This new historical material, obtained by Tan Chanyue through persistent searching, comes from Zhang Chunyuan’s case file and was written by Lin Zhao on October 14, 1961. It should be said that Lin Zhao’s “release for medical treatment” was related to her change in attitude.

Lin Zhao was released from prison during the Great Famine of 1962, which ravaged the country and left corpses everywhere. The real news she heard completely shattered her beautiful illusions about the Communist Party’s reform. She wrote to Lu Ping, the president of Peking University, exposing the tyranny, criticizing the Anti-Rightist Movement, and met with friends from Suzhou who had also been labeled rightists. Together, they formed the “Chinese Free Youth Combat Alliance.” On December 23, 1962, Lin Zhao was imprisoned again, and this imprisonment lasted until her martyrdom on April 29, 1968.

In 1965, the People’s Court of Jing’an District in Shanghai sentenced Lin Zhao to twenty years of imprisonment. Lin Zhao was transferred from the First Detention Center in Shanghai to the Shanghai Prison, specifically the Tilanjiao Prison, to serve her sentence. Despite being incarcerated, Lin Zhao continued to resist and refused to confess.

According to materials related to the “Lin Zhao case” found by Mr. Hu Jie, the Shanghai Labor Reform Bureau had already proposed an additional sentence of execution for Lin Zhao on December 5, 1966. At that time, the Deputy Director of the Shanghai Public Security Bureau, Wang Jian, approved the decision to prosecute and impose additional punishment on Lin Zhao. This approval was dated December 8, 1966. However, due to subsequent political upheavals during the “January Storm” in Shanghai, the situation changed. Wang Jian himself was later removed from Shanghai and subjected to political persecution until the end of the Cultural Revolution.

The official death sentence for Lin Zhao was finally issued in 1968, specifically on April 19 of that year. The sentencing authority was the “Military Control Committee of the People’s Liberation Army Shanghai Public Security, Inspection, and Judicial Department”. The judgment began with two paragraphs of “highest instructions” attributed to Mao Zedong:

  • Wherever counter-revolutionaries cause trouble, they must be resolutely eliminated.”
  • Those who are willing to meet God with a granite-like mind will definitely exist, but this is irrelevant to the overall situation.”

The judgment document further described Lin Zhao’s activities during her imprisonment. 

  • She persistently held an anti-revolutionary stance, continued to write anti-revolutionary diaries, poems, and articles, and maliciously slandered the Communist Party and our great leader, Chairman Mao Zedong. Even after the start of the Cultural Revolution, Lin Zhao’s anti-revolutionary activities intensified. 
  • She wrote numerous anti-revolutionary articles, vehemently opposed and defamed the Cultural Revolution, and shockingly defaced the glorious image of Chairman Mao that appeared in newspapers using blood. Additionally, she wrote anti-revolutionary slogans on prison walls and newspapers, openly promoting counter-revolutionary ideas. 
  • During interrogations, Lin Zhao adamantly refused to confess and displayed an extremely hostile attitude. 
  • In summary, Lin Zhao was a deeply guilty counter-revolutionary who persisted in her anti-revolutionary stance during her period of reform through labor. She continued her anti-revolutionary activities while imprisoned, demonstrating an unrepentant and unyielding attitude. In order to defend our great leader Chairman Mao Zedong, uphold the invincible Mao Zedong Thought, and protect the Party Central Committee led by Chairman Mao, she was sentenced to death and executed immediately.

Ten days later, on April 29, 1968, Lin Zhao was executed. She was not yet 37 years old.

Lin Zhao’s famous declaration, “The prison is my battlefield!”, reflects her unwavering spirit and determination.

In 2004, I came across Mr. Hu Jie’s documentary film titled “In Search of Lin Zhao’s Soul”. I had previously written an article about it. Two years ago, when I was preparing to write again, I discovered that many important historical materials had surfaced, yet they hadn’t received sufficient attention.

One significant finding was the work of Lin Zhao’s friend, Mr. Jiang Wenqin. Over the course of three years, he meticulously revised Lin Zhao’s “Letter to the People’s Daily Editorial Department (Part Three)”, also known as the “140,000-word letter”. Additionally, Mr. Jiang completed annotations for Lin Zhao’s “Nine Chapters of Blood Remonstrance Against Mao Zedong”. These annotations were introduced by Mr. Zhu Yi, a survivor of the unjust case during the Cultural Revolution in Jiangxi. Furthermore, Mr. Feng Shiyan provided annotations for Lin Zhao’s poem “Autumn Sounds”. All these manuscripts, thanks to readers who deeply admire Lin Zhao, are now accessible online.

Inspired by Mr. Hu Jie’s documentary, poetry enthusiasts from Gansu, including Ms. Li Yunzhu, made efforts to uncover more of Lin Zhao’s work. They finally obtained Lin Zhao’s long poem titled “A Day in the Suffering of Prometheus”, which was published in the first issue of the magazine “Xinghuo” Spark. Additionally, based on historical materials she personally discovered, Ms. Tan Chanxue brought to light another of Lin Zhao’s long poems, “Seagull”, for the first time. This poem reached the hands of Zhang Chunyuan, a key figure associated with “Xinghuo”, who even had it engraved. The original title was “Seagull: Better to Die than Live Without Freedom”. Although it was initially intended for publication in the second issue of “Xinghuo”, the rapidly changing situation prevented its inclusion. The version of “A Day in the Suffering of Prometheus” that had been circulating online, attributed to Li Yunzhu, was incomplete in its final lines. However, Ms. Tan Chanxue revealed the complete poem for the first time in her book “Quest”.


艾晓明:“因为我的心中还有个林昭”(1)

Original 阿斗的梦 阿斗越墙 2024-04-29 07:26 美国

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林昭(1932年1月23日—1968年4月29日)
甘粹先生赠我两张照片,这张是林昭的单人照,我估计是当年林昭赠与甘粹的照片,在照片反面是甘粹先生写的说明:林昭摄于1958年,写道:“同是天涯沦落人,相逢何必曾相识。”

“因为我心中还有个林昭”

——访林昭挚友/难友甘粹

时间:2013年11月28日、30日、12月1日

地点:北京甘粹先生住所

访问人:艾晓明

甘粹简介:
 
1932年12月生于中国浙江绍兴,1955年保送进入中国人民大学新闻系。1958年被划为“右派”,同年与林昭相识;隔年被发配进行劳动改造20年。1979年“右派”获得改正后,回到北京,在中国社会科学院党委宣传部工作。其后曾任中国社会科学院文学研究所资料室主任、副研究员等职。1992年退休,定居北京。曾主编出版《中国长篇小说辞典》(1991年敦煌文艺出版社),著有《北大魂》,2010年出版。


甘粹先生接受采访,2013年11月28日。

写在前面:

2012年我开始寻找林昭遗稿,因此也陆陆续续访问了一些林昭的难友和同学。2013年12月参加网易年度演讲去北京,得以和甘粹先生作了三天的交流。胡杰先生在《寻找林昭的灵魂》采访过甘粹先生,片中有他对林昭的回忆以及晚年生活的画面。有关甘粹先生自己的经历,片中有一句话作为提示:甘粹先生在兵团“度过了地狱般的二十二年”。
 
因此我在下面的访问中,请甘粹先生具体讲述了他在兵团的经历;这是交织着历史悲剧和人生苦难的回忆。按资历来说,甘粹是1949年参军的老革命,和林昭一样,青年时代满腔热忱地拥抱共产主义理想。但1957年反右之后,特别是因为和林昭相爱而被发配兵团,从此受尽折磨。为摆脱劳改苦役,他逃出当盲流,甚至讨饭度日,还被当做苏修特务抓住捆绑吊打……一个人的生命是怎样被“反右”所拨弄、扭曲,尽在他的证言中。
 
为读者方便,我根据访谈内容加上了小标题。由于一直没有机会再见甘粹先生,所以,文中个别人名地名,可能有小误。当时甘粹先生年事已高,听力衰退,也不用电邮;而我没有再去北京,故未能与他当面核对文字稿。

感谢甘粹先生先后数日接受我的采访,这也许是他生前最后一次对来访者详述他与林昭那一代人的苦难岁月了。在我整理出这篇采访的2014年,甘粹先生于当年的10月23日凌晨1点37分,因心力衰竭骤然去世,享年83岁。


作者与甘粹先生合影,2013年12月1日。

 
谨以此文,纪念林昭和她同时代的思想者,并向他们致敬。

一、“您是怎样得到林昭十四万言书手稿的?”
 
问:甘先生,谢谢您接受我的访问。
 
答:你们做这个工作很有意义,而且很迫切,再过一段时间我们这些老家伙慢慢都死掉了,再想找就找不着了。最好是这样,不要漫无边际地谈,你想了解什么你就问。
 
问:好。我问的第一个问题就是,您是怎样得到十四万言书这个手稿的?
 
答:是来自林昭的妹妹……据说是法院把这十四万言书给了林昭的妹妹。林昭的妹妹到北京来,她舅舅叫许觉民,现在许觉民已经走了,很可惜。许觉民是咱们社会科学院文学所的所长,他的夫人张沐兰,跟我是人民大学新闻系同班同学,她没打成右派,她也受了牵连,右倾机会主义……

我1979年回北京以后,就在社科院党委宣传部办中国社会科学院院报。每个礼拜六,没事我就到同学张沐兰家里去。张沐兰的丈夫许觉民又是我的顶头上司,有一次,就看见了林昭的妹妹。很奇怪,林昭的妹妹那一次是为了落实林昭的问题到北京来的,来到她堂舅舅许觉民家里。这是我第一次见到林昭的妹妹,但是我知道她——1959年我到林昭家里去过。这次见面时,林昭的妹妹告诉我林昭的遭遇,说她被枪毙了,我那时才知道林昭不在世了。
 
这个十四万言书是怎么来的呢?据说是法院把十四万言书给了林昭的妹妹,林昭的妹妹就复印了一份,给了许觉民——她的堂舅。许觉民把这一份给了我,因为手稿字太小,他年纪大了看不见。许觉民让我看一遍,把它抄下来,意思就是说,看能不能想办法出版。因为许觉民原来是《人民文学》出版社的编辑室主任吧,出版界他认识很多人。我就看了,也抄出来了。林昭那个字,说白了也就我认识。
 
抄出来以后,我给许觉民讲,这里头有些内容不行,因为谈了很多柯庆□的事。许觉民讲,可不可以删掉有关的不好的地方,咱们再想办法出版。后来我回去又看了一遍,给许觉民讲,这些东西没法改,没法删,一删就不是林昭原来的味道了。这个东西要么就是原文发表,咱们不要删。
 
这个事情就作罢了,所以稿子一直在我手上。我抄出来以后给了胡杰,胡杰拿着复印件(就是林昭妹妹给许觉民的复印件)和我誊写出来的十四万字的稿子,从南京到北京,北京到南京,反反复复来了好多次。我抄出来就差不多花了四个月时间。胡杰来采访,是宣传林昭,我是大力支持的。我抄的复印件稿子全部给了胡杰,胡杰的纪录片里就拍到了一些,他最后都还给我了。这个稿子的来龙去脉就是这样。
 
现在这个稿子还有个波折我简单提一下,蒋文钦找我,我把我抄写出来的十四万言书和复印件又复印了一遍,寄给蒋文钦。蒋文钦说看不清楚,他要看林昭妹妹给许觉民,后又转给我的那一份原稿。我想,为了纪念林昭我大力支持,我就把这稿子给了蒋文钦。蒋文钦有他的功劳,十四万言字我是用钢笔抄出来的,但是他录入电脑后就可以打印出来了。电脑录入我不会,这是他的功劳。
 
现在我了解到,林昭妹妹把这些手稿全部捐给美国胡佛研究所了,我这一份也不是林昭的手稿,是法院退给林昭妹妹的复印件,原稿不在我这里,原稿在美国。
 
问:您是哪一年得到这个林昭手稿的?
 
答:那稿子我抄出来了下面写了个日志,2000年7月11日;前前后后花了四个月。
 
问:那您是1999年见到彭令范?
 
答:不是,见到她就早了。
 
我是1979年落实政策回北京。1979年、1980年我都见到彭令范。彭令范是来找北京大学落实林昭右派问题的,那个时候我才知道林昭的事情。我在新J待了二十年,一直不知道。
 
彭令范2004年6月份出国,出国之前留下这个手稿复印件给她舅舅。他舅舅跟倪竞雄一起去送她出国的,唯一就留了十四万言书的遗稿,在许觉民那里。实际上北大百年因为林昭这个事情成了舆论焦点,那是1998年,十四万言书的价值就凸显出来了。1998年北大百年,南方周末、武汉发表纪念文章,都是那个时候,讨论林昭问题。彭令范在美国也写了回忆文章《我和姐姐》。
 
林昭这个事情得感谢胡杰,没有他也不行。我对胡杰是大力支持的,胡杰没有十四万言字不行,只有我抄出来的复印件也不行。我把它抄出来以后,给了许觉民一份,但许觉民也老了没有时间看。没有胡杰拍摄的片子《寻找林昭的灵魂》,林昭这个事情后来也不会那么轰动。
 
问:这是您手抄稿的原稿?
 
答:这是我抄手抄稿的原稿。
 
问:一共有多少页呀?
 
答:469页。
 
问:那时候您已经退休了吗?
 
答:我退了,已经退了。
 
问:抄了四个月?
 
答:反正那时我的安排是一天抄一千多字,她这是137页,我一天抄一页,这非常费眼睛的。这是胡杰根据我的手抄稿整理出来的一份,他取个名字叫《女牢书简》。这一份我觉得他改得不错,就是把那些不该有的,什么柯庆□等,都没有。这是胡杰的一份,他给了我。

甘粹是根据这份复印件抄录的林昭遗稿。


 
二、“情断铁一号”
 
问:您当时是怎么和林昭分手的?我看你那回忆录里面写了,而胡杰纪录片里没多涉及。
 
答:我和林昭相处在一起,前前后后也就一年时间。这一年北京大学中文系新闻专业跟人民大学新闻系合并,合并的具体地点是铁狮子胡同一号;就是现在的张自忠路三号。它过去是段祺瑞的总统府,更早些时候是清朝慈禧太后修建的海军部。
 
张自忠路三号是文物保护单位,那里头分三块:中间钟鼓楼这一块后头花园,现在还是由人民大学书报社占着。东边这一块后来划给社会科学院东欧所、西亚非所,还有日本所在那里。西边是红墙,六层楼的房子,那是人民大学盖的,是人民大学的职工宿舍。人民大学城里就两个系,历史档案系和新闻系。
 
1958年,我跟林昭认识时还很冷。人民大学和北京大学一样反右,基本上走两步:第一次人民大学反右,老师和学生反了两百个右派。这还没有完成任务,上面给的指标任务是四百个。1957年反右到年底,我还不是右派。1958年第二次补课,又反了两百个右派。我是后面这两百个右派里头的一个,人民大学总共反了四百个右派。林昭,我估计,因为我不在北大,她肯定也是后来划的右派。她到人民大学来了一次,之后从文字记载上看,是五、六月份,就是北大合并人大,我的印象可能还要早一点。罗列是北大新闻系主任,把她带过来了。她被安排在人民大学新闻系资料室,监督劳动改造。
 
1959年是我到人民大学新闻系的第四个年头,这一年具体内容是半年实习半年写论文。实习没有我的份,我被开除D籍了,论文也不要我写了。新闻系说你就到资料室去吧,劳动改造。
 
我们这些右派,大概有十几、二十个人。开头就在校园里头扫垃圾,捡香蕉皮。最后开学了,就叫我到新闻系资料室去。我去的时候,林昭已经在资料室了。资料室没有多少人,就三个人,头儿是王前。王前就是刘少奇跟王光美结婚之前一位夫人,她带兵就带林昭跟我两个。王前就说,现在中共中央宣传部委托中国人民大学新闻系编中共报刊史;你们两个就看国民党时期的一些报纸,收集资料,为中共报刊史编写做卡片。我们两个当时每天上班就是在图书报纸堆里头,这样才跟林昭认识了。
 
我记得很清楚,我去的时候,天气还比较冷,我推开办公室的门进去,就林昭一个人在那里。她正好打开水回来准备泡茶,而且给我泡了一杯。她说茶叶是王前给的,我知道王前是人民大学副校长聂真的爱人;她当然是高干。就这样相识,第一次见面就是这样的。
 
林昭那时候有病,像林黛玉一样,实际上是肺病,咳嗽,吐痰里面带血。那时候王前跟我讲:你是男的,林昭是女的,没事你多照顾一下林昭。王前很同情我们这两个右派,她特别喜欢林昭;她们有话可以谈得来。
 
时间长了,有时林昭没有来上班,我就知道她病了。我就跑去看她,她就住在铁一号东边,就是现在社科院占的那一部分里头。在二楼那个房子有一个小间,十平米左右。我去看她觉得很可怜,那我就帮她打水,买饭。

人民大学那个时候没有暖气,宿舍都是大宿舍,工友烧的煤炉子。林昭是个右派,根本没人管她。我看她那个房间很冷,春节过了我就跑去总务处,领了一个铁炉子,我给她安上炉子、通风管。我又跑到铁一号后面堆的蜂窝煤,找个背筐,装上煤,背上二楼到林昭的房间里头。另外再柴火、劈柴拿一点,都摆在那里。我拿点劈柴把林昭屋子里头的炉子生起来,房间马上就暖和了。
 
平常就我们两个右派上班,也不谈什么,都是钻到后头她那个房子里头,看书看报纸。林昭古典文学比较好,她看的全是古的线装书、笔记小说。那都是文言文,我不喜欢看,我就看现在出版的这些。
 
问:你们俩也没有看报纸,没有去研究中共报刊史?
 
答:报纸看一点,卡片做几张应付了。开头还找报纸看一看,结果就都是各看各的书。
 
从我跟她接触交谈,我就很佩服林昭。林昭确实是个才女,她文学特别是古典文学水平大大超过我。我也就是在人民大学学了点中国古典文学,什么《诗经》都是些皮毛。这样慢慢谈,比较谈得拢。

另外,我在生活上尽量照顾她,给她生炉子,背煤球,给她在食堂买饭。我记得最清楚的是,后来有了感情,她病了,学生食堂的饭吃不下,那饭就是早上一个窝窝头,苞谷面糊糊,另外还有个咸菜疙瘩。那时人民大学的学生,一个月伙食费大概五块、六块钱就够了。咱们稍微吃好一点,有时候就吃点肉菜;那一个月七块、八块钱也就够了。但是林昭她早上不吃饭,我就着急了。后来想个办法,每天早上在张自忠路坐无轨电车,坐两三站路到东四。那里有个广东餐馆,它早上卖广东肉粥。我先自己吃一碗,然后再买一碗;大概是一毛五分钱一碗,我就带回学校给林昭送去。广东肉粥比较高级——她就吃了。咱们就这样,从相逢到相识;在一块儿工作,生活上也照顾她,谈得比较来,有时候一块儿出去。
 
每个礼拜天我都跟林昭出去逛公园、逛北海,因为张自忠路过去就是北海,划船,还看话剧。
 
问:当时看什么话剧?
 
答:有《关汉卿》、《窦娥冤》。我记得很清楚就是《窦娥冤》。她有个同学叫倪竞雄,是沪剧的编剧。她有时来北京开会,就有些票,她把那些票给我跟林昭去看,而且还坐最好的位置,坐在第一排。
 
那时林昭住在二楼,我独自一个人没事,就在一楼走廊边拉二胡。我会拉二胡,拉得不好。我拉刘天华的《病中吟》,林昭在房间里头,听见二胡声音委婉、凄凉,她就推开窗子听。后来才知道,是我在那里拉。她说我还写了个歌呢,这样才引出这首歌。我就把歌哼给你们听听:
 
在暴风雨的夜里,
我怀念着你,
窗外是夜,怒号的风,
淋漓的雨滴,
但是我心呀,
飞出去寻找你,
你在哪里,你在哪里?


你是被放逐在辽阔的荒原,
还是尘埋在冰冷的狱底,
啊,兄弟啊兄弟,
我的歌声追寻着你,
我的心里为你流血,
兄弟兄弟,
你在哪里,你在哪里?

 
这是林昭写的一首歌,这首歌在林昭的追悼会上我也唱过。
 
问:是当时她写下来的?
 
答:当时在一起,她写下来唱给我听,是在《病中吟》之后。
 
问:你有没有跟她讨论这一首歌词的含义?
 
答:没有讨论。
 
五十年代就传谣言,就说我跟她谈恋爱。传到上头领导了,领导就找我谈话,说有没有这个事?我说没有这个事。领导说你们不要谈恋爱,你们两个右派,好好改造。然后,林昭问我谈些啥?我说不准我们谈恋爱。林昭一听就笑了笑问你害怕吗?我说我不害怕。她说你不害怕,好,咱们原来还没有谈恋爱,现在就真的谈恋爱给他们看一看。
 
就这样,每天特别是早上十点钟做工间操,林昭就拉着我,咱们手挽着手在人民大学铁一号里头走给他们看。铁一号以前是段祺瑞的总统府,后面还修了个小花园,有个水池子,有个假山;我们就在那个地方转。你说我们谈恋爱嘛,我们就是谈恋爱,谈给你看。这样的话,我们等于真的谈恋爱了。新闻系党总支很不喜欢我,后来把我分到新J惩罚我;也是为这个事。
 
转眼时间过去了,我们俩在一起就是一年。最后到九月一号,新的学期要开始了。我面临分配,毕不毕业就那么回事,就是要把我打发走。我想一想,就找党支部书记说我要跟林昭结婚;希望1959年分配的时候不要把我分得太远,要求他们照顾一下。但是我得到的答复是:“你们两个右派,妄想!”结果,把我分到新J兵团。
 
林昭也没办法,在户籍制度统治下,你不服从分配,就没有户口,没有工作,也没有粮票、布票。没办法。我记得很清楚,林昭还背着我跟其他那些右派一起开小会,像北大来的姜泽虎、吴尚玉,都没办法。后来无可奈何,就宣布我到兵团。我赖着不走,学校就催我,红脸白脸都唱。我就赖着不走,最后不行了,新的学期要开始,毕业的都走光了。
 
后来一些事情我不清楚,据说林昭的母亲到北京来了一趟。她是民主人士,大概认识史良这些人。也可能是找了史良,找到了吴玉章,吴玉章是人民大学校长。这些我是听说,没有亲眼见到,也没见到她母亲;后来就批准林昭回上海治病。

这样,我先送林昭上火车去了上海。我记得我回忆录里有写送她上火车的那一幕。
 
问:您当时怎么把这个情况跟林昭说的?林昭怎么跟您讲她要回上海,下一步怎么办?
 
答:她就是一句话,她叫我甘子,她说你等着我。就这么一句话,后来我送她上火车,火车要开了,我跟她在车厢里头抱头痛哭。后来火车动了,我没办法才跳下火车。当时火车一厢人都奇怪:这对年轻人怎么……那时候互相抱着痛哭的场景很少见。
 
问:您那一年多大年纪?
 
答:大概二十七岁吧。
 
问:林昭呢?
 
答:林昭跟我同岁,实际上她比我大一岁。她妈妈生下她以后,给她隐瞒了一年,她实际上是属羊的。


林昭与甘粹的合影(甘粹先生在照片反面写道:林昭与我摄于北京景山公园。)

 
三、劳改二十年
 
1、第一次从逃回上海
 
我把林昭送走后,人民大学催我走,我才打着铺盖出发。那时候火车不通新J,到跟兰州接界地方叫维亚。我就坐火车坐了四天到了维亚。维亚下火车,又坐三天的汽车,到自治区人事厅报到。人事厅说你到兵团去吧,就把我打发到兵团了。兵团又说,你到农二师去吧。农二师就是南J,师部在延吉,现在库尔勒。我又到了延吉,在招待所等着分配。农二师招待所人来人往,有很多人从下面劳改农场跑出来,说劳改农场艰苦啊、不人道啊,我吓坏了……
 
问:哪些事情不人道、很吓人呢?
 
答:那些人天不亮就起来,枪杆子押着你去劳动,挑大土,而且吃不饱。打、骂这都是家常便饭,这一说我就害怕了。
 
我1949年参军,以后一直是当干部,没有经历过那种事情。他给我分配到劳改农场叫塔里木四场,就是现在的三十二团。听了以后我就害怕了,我还想着林昭,就扭头跑回乌鲁木齐汽车站,把行李衣服一切东西在马路边上卖掉了。凑了钱,再坐汽车到维亚,再转火车经过兰州跑回上海。
 
回到上海,我去找了林昭。但林昭的母亲对我很冷淡,林昭也没办法,就从林昭家里茂名南路出来慢慢走,从南京路走到外滩,在外滩公园……就在外头荡,一直荡到晚上。

我在想,你看上海那么大,灯火辉煌,那么多人,可是就容不下我生活在这里,真是没有办法。我家里有母亲,有个妹妹,都靠着我大哥生活,还有大嫂。家里我也待不住,因为我没有钱,没有户口,也没有粮票。没办法,我在上海待了一个礼拜,碰上一个礼拜天,我还跟林昭在徐汇区乌鲁木齐路的大教堂做了个礼拜。最后没有办法生活,我也没有钱……
 
问:晚上住哪里呢?
 
答:晚上住我哥哥家里,那时我母亲还在,但是长期住是不行的。最后还是没办法,我哥哥和嫂子又给我准备一套被子、棉衣,我从上海坐上火车到兰州,回到新J。这样我去塔里木四场报到,就是去劳动。
 
2、别梦依稀
 
我就这样在塔里木四场开始生活。基本上,每个礼拜我都要给林昭写信,林昭也给我回信。当然那个信是要经过检查的,劳改队里有管教,他看了以后给你寄走。信来了他也先拆掉看,然后才给你。
 
问:写些什么内容呢?
 
答:信都很短,那些信什么内容我也记不清楚了。很简短,但是都有回信。过了一段时间,我光有信去,没有回信了。没有回信我就纳闷儿,我还给她母亲写,也没有回信,没有人理我。
 
时间慢慢长了,我们那个地方也有上海支边青年,他们也不满意那里。但是他们上工要比我们晚半个钟头,收工比我们早半个钟头,就好这么一点点。有一个上海青年跟我谈得比较来,他要回上海。借探亲假到上海,他就不再回了。我就跟他讲,你回上海帮我做一件事:你知道茂名南路179弄11号吧?你帮我去看一看我的一个朋友叫林昭。他说行。

他回上海以后,给我回了封信;他说我去看了林昭,林昭已经重病住院了,何时出院不得而知。这个信我是看懂了,因为林昭的个性,我知道林昭肯定进监狱了。这个事情就这么过去了。
 
又过了好多年,很奇怪;有一天五月一号,我突然做了个梦。这不是迷信:林昭披麻戴孝,扶着棺材,向我走来。我就很纳闷,第二天醒来以后,我就把这个梦告诉了一块儿劳动改造的一个峨眉山的老和尚。我说你给我解一解吧,他说梦是反面;说明你心爱的人林昭已经结婚了。披麻戴孝扶着棺材,那就是花轿;你不要再想她了。
 
和尚是给我这么解的,我也就是这么信的。所以后来,那么多年,二十多年,一直没有林昭的消息。只有1979年落实政策回北京,在许觉民家里,就是我同学张沐兰家里看到她——林昭的妹妹——我才知道林昭被枪毙了。

一算这个日子,就是我做梦那个月的29号,我是5月号做的梦。这很奇怪。我觉得人是有灵魂的,她死了以后,她的灵魂有几天活动时间,中国老百姓不是有句话,七天要回来嘛。我估计是她的灵魂飞到塔里木四场,跟我告别。
 
四、见证和抄录林昭作品
 
问:后来您看到了林昭的十四万言书,在抄的过程中您相信这是林昭写的吗?
 
答:我相信,因为林昭的那些字,我认识。我跟林昭在一起她没事就是看书,她看那些线装书古书,都是一些笔记小说。
 
问:记不记得哪几本书,您记得书名吗?
 
答:记不住,都是笔记小说。而且那时候她在写诗,她写了两首诗现在还能看到,一首是《普罗米修斯受难的一日》,另外一首是《海鸥之歌》。这两首长诗她天天写,天天改,边写边改,同时也给我看。
 
问:您当时就看到了这两首长诗?
 
答:还有一个,她改编剧本,我也看到了。
 
问:一个什么剧本呢?
 
答:就是鲁迅的《伤逝》。她写的时候就给我看,而且叫我提意见改。最后结局是捐生把狗拿到郊区又扔掉了。这两首诗,她边写边改,一直到我们分开,她还在改。

林昭的字写得很秀丽,后来我抄林昭遗稿,也是对林昭的爱支持我。抄的时候我内心很痛苦,因为想着我跟她在一起的那些情景。我也是以很大的毅力把它抄出来,主要是胡杰也要,我抄一点他拿走一点;不是说全部抄好给他的。他经常到北京来,而且胡杰把林昭十四万言字整理了一个简洁本,他给了我;他就把那些柯庆□的东西都删没有了。
 
问:您当时抄林昭手稿,看到那些很尖锐的批判,你有没有一种想法:如果林昭不这么做,也许能够保全她的生命?
 
答:我了解林昭。这XXX太恶,没有人性。如果给我们这两个右派一点点生活出路,也不至于此。尽管我后来回上海,她母亲对我跟林昭在一起是持反对态度的;但是只要不把我们分得太远,让我跟林昭还能够接触,也许林昭不会走那么决绝的一条路。因为有我在,有我对她生活上的呵护。
 
我跟她两个,有些观点也是不一样的……我老劝她,我跟她说,你这是鸡蛋碰石头;她说鸡蛋碰石头我也要碰。但我想,只要给我们一点活路,让我们生活在一起,林昭也是要生活的人。让我们生活在一起,就会好一点。她不会那么激进,但林昭的本性不会改的。
 
问:您怎么判断她写十四万言书中的精神状态?
 
答:我看了以后有个疑问,但是看了你那篇文章就给我解决了;我认为你那个分析是对的。因为劳改队咱们也待过,不可能让劳改分子这么逍遥法外,这么悠然自得。劳改犯没有时间也没有自由去写作,这是不可能的。
 
我在劳改队待过,不管你是谁,在那里就是干活。我们当时那儿的劳改队有个特点,因为是和平解放,解放军一去就宣布和平起义,国民党部队变成解放军,还是当连长当排长;这些劳改队由他们来管,你想好得了吗?因为他本质就是国民党。有一个劳改队长说,我们不打人不骂人,但我叫你劳动劳动劳动,你累死了我不犯错误。心太狠就狠到这种地步,他就是把人往死里整,累死你。
 
林昭能在监狱里头写出十四万言书和后来你们找到的那些东西,我心里头原有个疑问,她为什么能得到写作的自由?监狱怎么会允许她这样干?这就是你分析的,我同意这一点。因为最后林昭闹闹闹,成为当时监狱里的所谓疯子而不可收拾。你要笔嘛,你要纸嘛,给你。你给我安静一点,不要闹了,你去写吧。提篮桥监狱的管教人员对她也没有办法了。其实他们对她很残酷的,正铐、反铐,但是没有治服。林昭还接着闹,闹得这些管教也伤脑筋。那你写吧,求个安静。我觉得这个解释得通。    
 
以前我有个想法没有实现,现在也不能实现了。我跟林昭的故事是很好的题材,也就一年,从相遇相识相恋到最后相离。能写出一篇很动人的故事,但是我写不出来。我连题目都想好了,叫《情断铁一号》;如果写得好的话会很感人。我有时候也想写,但提起笔来就伤心,写不下去。
 
我觉得你们做这些事情很有意义,再不做我们这些老家伙一个一个都走了,走了你想做都不行了。幸亏胡杰拍了第一个纪录片《寻找林昭的灵魂》,把这个事情掀开了。
 
问:您当时抄林昭手稿碰到哪些困难?
 
答:复印件有些地方不太清楚,但我是最熟悉林昭的字的,别人抄不出来。
 
问:您抄那些批判的言论是不是觉得很有冲击力?或者说您能接受吗?
 
答:我能接受,因为我的思想跟她是一致的。我在那边待了二十年,过着非人的生活,就是强劳动。我为什么不死,我就说我年轻,我要看着那个人死在我前头;我要看看这个社会到底会变成什么样,我有那么一种希望。
 
对我个人来说已经完全没有希望了,右派等于终生。劳改员十年八年还有个刑期,十年八年熬满了总要解脱。这右派没有刑期,你改造好了就宣布摘帽,我是看透了。

问:您希望林昭的文稿以什么状态呈现比较理想?
 
答:我希望终有一天,这些遗稿被整理打印出来供世人观看;有兴趣的可以研究。……我觉得林昭留下来的这些东西,主要价值也就在十四万言书。这十四万言文字已经把林昭这个人、这个女孩子的精神表现出来了。她在那样的情境下还坚持不懈,到生命最后一刻。这个精神就值得人们敬仰和学习。
 
我觉得对林昭的研究宜粗不宜细。
 
问:哪些东西您认为是细呢?
 
答:像你们……像朱毅现在搞这些,我不反对,这样搞出来也很好。但是,我是不会去研究的。十四万言字已经把林昭的形象树立起来了。她坚决地反对Z制、反对XXX,这是一个女英雄的形象。
 
我最早跟许觉民说过,里头关于柯庆□的部分,我们都可以理解。我也是右派,我也绝望过,我也有妄想症。人到那一步,这些毛病都是有的,也是可以理解的。不要太细去研究那些……

(待续)

点这里看留言,写留言~

【作者简介】艾晓明:学者。曾任中山大学中文系教授,已退休。本文由作者授权发布。

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艾晓明:一万封信,再加四封 (下)
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聆听良知,坦鸣心声。
我手写我心。投稿邮箱:yimeiyuandi@163.com


烈女林昭在狱中爱上柯庆施的真正原因

阿波罗新闻网 2020-06-06 讯】作者: 艾晓明

林昭的十四万言书中,已有相当篇幅写到她与1965年4月9日故世的上海市市长柯庆施的冥婚;而这又是她近二十万字《灵耦絮语》的主要内容。从十四万言书中可见,林昭之热恋而迷狂的冥婚想象,最初源于她的推测。反右以来受害人饱受株连,上层统治者党同伐异,林昭对此刻骨铭心且深知沉冤难雪。她推测,骤然传出柯庆施噩耗,这注定是因她牵连;因为她在被判处二十年监禁后接连给柯庆施写了两封申诉信,而柯庆施在上海部分知识人中口碑不错。本文摘自艾晓明工作室博客,作者艾晓明,原题为《“死者青春长在”——癸巳年悼林昭》。

林昭生前留影

2012年12月的一个夜晚,我在浙江某个城市的小酒店房间彻夜难眠。我的身边围绕着一叠叠林昭遗稿的复印件,一夜间,我翻来覆去地阅读这些狱中家信、日记,仿若遭逢神迹。我听到林昭的声音在这个小屋子里一遍遍地响起:

“我以我的血痛切控诉如此恶劣的暴行迫害!请你和一切别的人都记着:假如我死去,我就是活活被他们摧残、凌虐、折磨死的!”“这信很难指望他们寄出,但至少可以留作他日的见证之一啊!”

怀着为未来作证的写作信仰,林昭留下了几十万字的狱中文集。我所引述的家信,见之她所编辑的“备忘录之二十七:血书家信——致母亲(附血书抗议)”,其中有她从1966年10月4日至1968年1月14日的家信。最后一封信网上有流传文本,即在信的正文之后,林昭补写了一信,其中列出了她所需要的物品;并向母亲索要各种她想像中的食品。这是在1968年过年前,离除夕还有两周,离林昭生命的终点仅余最后三个半月时间。

一、林昭的判决与加刑

林昭,目前一般记录为生于1932年,实际为1931年。林昭的朋友在编辑文集中介绍她时提到:在江浙一带的民俗认为,羊年出生的女儿命运坎坷,所以改为1932年出生。林昭的父母受到现代教育,怀抱革新中国的理想,积极介入社会政治。林昭在中学时代追求进步,17岁即加入中国共产党。1954年她以江苏省最高分考入北京大学中文系新闻专业。1957年她支持右派同学的观点,1958年被定为右派。因她身体不好未遣送外地劳动教养,改留校察看。1959年她随母亲回到上海养病,那年,她28岁。

林昭经历了两次入狱,两次判决。第一次判决书发出的时间是1965年5月31日,其中所列举的她1960年第一次入狱的起因,竟是因为写诗!林昭“书写反动长诗‘海鸥’,污蔑攻击反右斗争”。林昭的诗由校友传至亲友,因而结识了兰州大学一批同样追求民主自由的朋友。当时他们也被打成右派,发配到天水、武山等农村改造。亲历了大跃进之后的破坏和农民疾苦,这批受难者开始集结。他们中的核心人物和先驱者张春元来到上海和林昭交流,他们决心挺身而出,力挽狂澜。

当年,《星火》在乡村创刊,顾雁在发刊词中尖锐指出:“这样的独裁统治硬要称为社会主义的话,应该是一种由政治寡头垄断的国家社会主义,与纳粹的国家社会主义属于同一类型,而与真正的社会主义毫无共同之点。”当年10月,甘肃开始对《星火》成员的大搜捕。林昭的长诗《普罗米修斯受难的一日》刊于《星火》第一期,《海鸥之歌》准备发于第二期,尚未印出。1960年10月24日,林昭在上海被捕。其后一个月,林昭的父亲因此打击和绝望服毒身亡。

1962年3月5日,经过母亲的努力,狱方以林昭患肺病为依据同意其保外就医。根据《星火》冤案幸存者谭蝉雪老师在《求索》一书中提供的史料,林昭出狱之前,写过《个人思想历程的回顾与检查》。用今天的话来说,称之为“思想检讨”也不为过。其中,林昭详细陈述了她在反右前后的思想经历,并且明确表示了对党的重新信任:

而今日,党这一年来的政治革新,虽然在许多地方犹不过是开始,却已收到了相当成果,显示出党还蕴藏着继续前进、生生不已、自强不息的生命力,并不全如我们所看到所认定的那么黑暗腐朽与昏愦胡涂,反过来,这也证明了我们当初在政治上对党采取那样对抗的态度和冲决的路线,是一种过激的错误。

党的政治路线总是已经实地革新了!——像这样一个党,我是可以重新拥护并且觉着值得拥护的了!

这一新的史料,经谭蝉雪老师辗转求索,得自张春元案卷宗,林昭写于1961年10月14日。应该说,林昭得到“保外就医”,和她态度的转变是有关系的。

林昭出狱,正值大饥荒肆虐、饿殍遍野的1962年,她听闻到真实消息完全打破她对共产党革新的美好幻想。她给北大校长陆平写信,揭露暴政,批判反右,并和苏州曾被划为右派的朋友聚会,成立“中国自由青年战斗联盟”。1962年12月23日,林昭再次被收监羁押,这次系狱,一直延续到她1968年4月29日殉难。

1965年上海市静安区人民法院对林昭的判决是有期徒刑二十年,林昭从上海市第一看守所被解押到上海市监狱即提篮桥监狱服刑。林昭在提篮桥监狱坚持反抗,拒不认罪。根据胡杰先生寻得的“林昭案加刑材料摘录”,上海市劳改局在1966年12月5日已经提出加刑报告“林犯应予执行死刑”,而当时的市公安局副局长王鉴批示:“同意起诉加刑”,这一批示的时间是1966年12月8日。可能是其后上海经历了夺权“一月风暴”,政治权力更迭;王鉴后来也被带离上海接受审查,受到政治迫害直至文革结束。对林昭的死刑判决书,拖延到1968年,在当年4月19日正式作出,判决机构是“中国人民解放军上海市公检法军事管制委员会”。判决书起首冠之毛泽东两段“最高指示”:

不管什么地方出现反革命分子捣乱,就应当坚决消灭他。

至死不变,愿意带着花岗岩头脑去见上帝的人,肯定有的,那也无关大局。

此判决书为“一九六七年度沪中刑(一)字第16号”。其中写道:

反革命犯林昭在服刑改造期间,顽固地坚持反革命立场,在狱中继续进行反革命活动,大量书写反革命日记、诗歌和文章,恶毒地咒骂和污蔑我党和伟大领袖毛主席,疯狂地攻击我无产阶级专政和社会主义制度。无产阶级文化大革命开展后,林犯反革命破坏活动更为猖獗,继续大量书写反革命文章,竭力反对和肆意诋毁我无产阶级文化大革命运动。尤其不可容忍的是,林犯竟敢明目张胆地多次将我刊登在报纸上的伟大领袖毛主席光辉形象用污血涂抹。与此同时,林犯还在狱中用污血在墙上、报纸上涂写反革命标语,高呼反革命口号和高唱反动歌曲,公然进行反革命鼓动,反革命气焰极为嚣张。

在审讯中,林犯拒不认罪,态度极为恶劣。

反革命犯林昭,原来就是一个罪恶重大的反革命分子,在服刑改造期间,顽固坚持反革命立场,在狱内继续进行反革命活动,实属是一个死不悔改、枯恶不悛的反革命分子。为誓死保卫伟大领袖毛主席,誓死扞卫战无不胜的毛泽东思想,誓死保卫以毛主席为首的党中央,加强无产阶级专政,兹根据中华人民共和国劳动改造条例第七十一条和中华人民共和国惩治反革命条例第二条、第十条第三款之规定,特判决如下:

判处反革命犯林昭死刑,立即执行。

十天之后,1968年4月29日,林昭被处决;实足年龄未满37岁。

二、“监狱是我的战斗阵地!”

我在2004年看到胡杰先生的《寻找林昭的灵魂》,曾经写过文章;前年准备再写,发现已经有许多重要史料面世,尚未引起足够重视。

其一是由林昭窗友蒋文钦先生历时三年根据手稿校对修订了林昭《致人民日报编辑部的信(之三)》(即“十四万言书”);蒋先生还完成了《林昭血谏毛泽东九章全注释》,此文由文革时期江西李九莲大冤案同案幸存者朱毅先生作序。此外,冯士彦先生做了林昭《秋声辞》注释。这些文稿,拜各位热爱林昭的读者相传,目前都能在网上查到。

受到胡杰先生纪录片的感召,甘肃的诗友李蕴珠等人努力寻找,终于得到刊于《星火》第一期的林昭长诗,《普罗米修斯受难的一日》。而谭婵雪老师根据她亲自寻获的史料,使林昭的另一首长诗《海鸥》首次面世。该诗传至《星火》的灵魂人物张春元手里后曾进行刻印,付印时的题名为《海鸥——不自由毋宁死》。原准备刊于《星火》第二期,但由于形势剧变,这期刊物未能印出。原先网上流传的“李蕴珠版”《普罗米修斯受难的一日》,最后几句阙如,谭婵雪老师在《求索》一书中首次披露全文。

About 高大伟 David Cowhig

After retirement translated, with wife Jessie, Liao Yiwu's 2019 "Bullets and Opium", and have been studying things 格物致知. Worked 25 years as a US State Department Foreign Service Officer including ten years at US Embassy Beijing and US Consulate General Chengdu and four years as a China Analyst in the Bureau of Intelligence and Research. Before State I translated Japanese and Chinese scientific and technical books and articles into English freelance for six years. Before that I taught English at Tunghai University in Taiwan for three years. And before that I worked two summers on Norwegian farms, milking cows and feeding chickens.
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