Introduction: Farmers
and the Chinese Revolution
While treaty ports along China's coast were feeling the direct impact
of foreign demands during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries,
most people in China were--and still are--rural people, living in towns
and villages. Although most farmers in China owned some land and often
had sources of income apart from farm work, such as handicrafts, life
was generally harsh. Farm plots were very small, averaging less than two
acres per family, and peasants had little access to new technology, capital,
or cheap transport. We have read about the nineteenth century internal crises which had terrible repercussions
for country folk--wars and rebellions, droughts and floods. From late
Qing times on, new taxes and charges were levied against individual village
residents and/or the village as a unit to pay for government administration,
state services like police and education, and most importantly, military
expenses. More insidious were the less visible effects of the new international
economy into which China had inexorably been drawn. Tea, silk, sugar,
and tobacco were all products with increasing competition in this period,
and thus international market forces began to affect rural people in China's
interior.
There is much debate about whether or not China's farmers were "immiserated"
in this period, that is, if they faced worse conditions than in previous
times. But, as the first reading on raising silkworms demonstrates, without
greater technological inputs, just working harder was not always enough
to stave off privation. Addressing the problems of the farmers was a major
challenge for Chinese leaders. The short story, by Mao Dun, entitled "Spring
Silkworms" (see below) also demonstrates a greater awareness, on
the part of a new breed of politically engaged and socially conscious
urban writers in the 1920s and 1930s, of the plight of people in the countryside.
Traditional Marxist thinking relegated peasants to a class which Marx
believed represented "barbarism within civilization," people
who were unable to develop revolutionary consciousness and only wanted
land and bread (food). During the Russian Revolution, Lenin revised Marx's
view, assigning peasants a more supporting revolutionary role, although
he still believed that it was the urban working class which initiated
revolution. In the 1920s, Chinese leftists began to change their view
of the revolutionary potential of the rural population. Some, like the
Guomindang organizer in South China, Peng Pai, had great success from
1921-23 in convincing disaffected farmers to form peasant associations
and challenge oppressive landlords. Likewise, Mao Zedong's own work in
the rural areas in 1925 and 1926 led him to see the farmers differently.
When Nationalists forces after 1927 drove him and other Communists to
rural hideouts from their urban bases, they intensified their work among
the rural population. Their belief in rural revolution thus became a hallmark
of Chinese Communist thinking.
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Spring Silkworms
by Mao Dun (Translated by Sidney Shapiro)
Old Tung Pao raised his wrinkled face, scorched by years of hot sun to
the color of dark parchment. He gazed bitterly at the canal before him,
at the boats on its waters, at the mulberry trees along its banks. All
were approximately the same as they had been when he was twenty. But the
world had changed. His family now often had to make their meals of pumpkin
instead of rice. He was over three hundred silver dollars in debt....
Toot! Toot-toot-toot....
Far up the bend in the canal a boat whistle broke the silence. There
was a silk filature over there too. He could see vaguely the neat lines
of stones embedded as reinforcement in the canal bank. A small oil-burning
river boat came puffing up pompously from beyond the silk filature, tugging
three larger craft in its wake. Immediately the peaceful water was agitated
with waves rolling toward the banks on both sides of the canal. A peasant,
poling a tiny boat, hastened to shore and clutched a clump of reeds growing
in the shallows. The waves tossed him and his little craft up and down
like a see saw. The peaceful green countryside was filled with the chugging
of the boat engine and the stink of its exhaust.
Hatred burned in Old Tung Pao's eyes. He watched the river boat approach,
he watched it sail past and glared after it until it went tooting around
another bend and disappeared from sight. He had always abominated the
foreign devils' contraptions. He himself had never met a foreign devil,
but his father had given him a description of one Old Master Chen had
seen - red eyebrows, green eyes, and a stiff-legged walk! Old Master Chen
had hated the foreign devils too. "The foreign devils have swindled
our money away," he used to say. Old Tung Pao was only eight or nine
the last time he saw Old Master Chen. All he remembered about him now
were things he had heard from others. But whenever Old Tung Pao thought
of that remark - "The foreign devils have swindled our money away"
- he could almost picture Old Master Chen, stroking his beard and wagging
his head.
How the foreign devils had accomplished this, Old Tung Pao wasn't too
clear. He was sure, however, that Old Master Chen was right. Some things
he himself had seen quite plainly. From the time foreign goods - cambric,
cloth, oil - appeared in the market town, from the time the foreign river
boats increased on the canal, what he produced brought a lower price in
the market every day, while what he had to buy became more and more expensive.
That was why the property his father left him had shrunk until it finally
vanished completely; and now he was in debt. It was not without reason
that Old Tung Pao hated the foreign devils....
The weather remained warm. The rays of the sun forced open the tender,
finger-like, little buds. They had already grown to the size of a small
hand. Around Old Tung Pao's village, the mulberry trees seemed to respond
especially well. From a distance they gave the appearance of a low grey
picket fence on top of which a long swath of green brocade had been spread.
Bit by bit, day by day, hope grew in the hearts of the villagers. The
unspoken mobilization order for the silkworm campaign reached everywhere
and everyone. Silkworm rearing equipment that had been laid away for a
year was again brought out to be scrubbed and mended. Beside the little
stream which ran through the village, women and children, with much laughter
and calling back and forth, washed the implements.
None of these women or children looked really healthy. Since the coming
of spring, they had been eating only half their fill; their clothes were
old and torn. As a matter of fact, they weren't much better off than beggars.
Yet all were in quite good spirits, sustained by enormous patience and
grand illusions. Burdened though they were by daily mounting debts, they
had only one thought in their heads - If we get a good crop of silkworms,
everything will be all right!...They could already visualize how, in a
month, the shiny green leaves would be converted into snow-white cocoons,
the cocoons exchanged for clinking silver dollars. Although their stomachs
were growling with hunger, they couldn't refrain from smiling at this
happy prospect....
"I was only able to buy twenty loads of mulberry leaves with that
thirty silver dollars I borrowed on your father's guarantee," Old
Tung Pao said to his daughter-in-law. "Our rice will be finished
by the day after tomorrow. What are we going to do?"
Thanks to her father's influence with his boss and his willingness to
guarantee repayment of the loan, Old Tung Pao was able to borrow the money
at a low rate of interest - only twenty-five per cent a month! Both the
principal and interest had to be repaid by the end of the silkworm season....
Old Tung Pao's family, borrowing a little here, getting a little credit
there, somehow managed to get by. Nor did the other families eat any better;
there wasn't one with a spare bag of rice! Although they had harvested
a good crop the previous year, landlords, creditors, taxes, levies, one
after another, had cleaned the peasants out long ago. Now all their hopes
were pinned on the spring silkworms. The repayment date of every loan
they made was set for the "end of the silkworm season."
With high hopes and considerable fear, like soldiers going into a hand-to-hand
battle to the death, they prepared for their spring silkworm campaign!...
The silkworms of Old Tung Pao's family grew and thrived! Though it rained
continuously during the grubs' First Sleep and Second Sleep, and the weather
was a bit colder than at "Clear and Bright"; the "little
darlings" were extremely robust.
The silkworms of the other families in the village were not doing badly
either. A tense kind of joy pervaded the countryside. Even the small stream
seemed to be gurgling with bright laughter....
By the Big Sleep, their silkworms weighed three hundred catties. Every
member of Old Tung Pao's family, including twelve-year-old Little Pao,
worked for two days and two nights without sleeping a wink. The silkworms
were unusually sturdy. Only twice in his sixty years had Old Tung Pao
ever seen the like. Once was the year he married; once when his first
son was born.
The first day after the Big Sleep, the "little darlings" ate
seven loads of leaves. They were now a bright green, thick and healthy.
Old Tung Pao and his family, on the contrary, were much thinner, their
eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
No one could guess how much the "little darlings" would eat
before they spun their cocoons. Old Tung Pao discussed the question of
buying more leaves with his son, Ah Sze....
"The price of leaves is rising fast!" a coarse voice cried.
"This afternoon, they were getting four dollars a load in the market
town!"
Old Tung Pao was very upset. At four dollars a load, thirty loads would
come to a hundred and twenty dollars. Where could he raise so much money!
But then he figured - he was sure to gather over five hundred catties
of cocoons. Even at fifty dollars a hundred, they'd sell for two hundred
and fifty dollars....
The next morning, Old Tung Pao went into town to borrow money for more
leaves. Before leaving home, he had talked the matter over with daughter-in-law.
They had decided to mortgage their grove of mulberries that produced fifteen
loads of leaves a year as security for the loan. The grove was the last
piece of property the family owned.
By the time the old man ordered another thirty loads, the first ten were
delivered, the sturdy "little darlings" had gone hungry for
half an hour. Putting forth their pointed little mouths, they swayed from
side to side, searching for food. Daughter-in-law's heart had ached to
see them. When the leaves were finally spread in the trays, the silkworm
shed at once resounded with a sibilant crunching, so noisy it drowned
out conversation. In a very short while, the trays were again empty of
leaves. Another thick layer was piled on. Just keeping the silkworms supplied
with leaves, Old Tung Pao and his family were so busy they could barely
catch their breath. But this was the final crisis. In two more days the
"little darlings" would spin their cocoons. People were putting
every bit of their remaining strength into this last desperate struggle....
The "little darlings" began spinning their cocoons, but Old
Tung Pao's family was still in a sweat. Both their money and their energy
were completely spent. They still had nothing to show for it; there was
no guarantee of their earning any return. Nevertheless, they continued
working at top speed. Beneath the racks on which the cocoons were being
spun fires had to be kept going to supply warmth....
After three days of "spinning," the fires were extinguished.
Ah Sze's wife could restrain herself no longer. She stole a look, her
heart beating fast. Inside, all was white as snow. The brush that had
been put in for the silkworms to spin on was completely covered over with
cocoons. Ah Sze's wife had never seen so successful a "flowering"!
The whole family was wreathed in smiles. They were on solid ground at
last! The "little darlings" had proved they had a conscience;
they hadn't consumed those mulberry leaves, at four dollars a load, in
vain. The family could reap its reward for a month of hunger and sleepless
nights. The Old Lord of the Sky had eyes!
Throughout the village, there were many similar scenes of rejoicing.
The Silkworm Goddess had been beneficent to the tiny village this year.
Most of the two dozen families garnered good crops of cocoons from their
silkworms. The harvest of Old Tung Pao's family was well above average.
Again women and children crowded the threshing ground and the banks of
the little stream. All were much thinner than the previous month, with
eyes sunk in their sockets, throats rasping and hoarse. But everyone was
excited, happy. As they chattered about the struggle of the past month,
visions of piles of bright silver dollars shimmered before their eyes.
Cheerful thoughts filled their minds - they would get their summer clothes
out of the pawnshop; at Spring Festival perhaps they could eat a fat golden
fish....
But in the village, the atmosphere was changing day by day. People who
had just begun to laugh were now all frowns. News was reaching them from
town that none of the neighboring silk filatures was opening its doors.
It was the same with the houses along the highway. Last year at this time
buyers of cocoons were streaming in and out of the village. This year
there wasn't a sign of even half a one. In their place came cunning creditors
and tax collectors who promptly froze up if you asked them to take cocoons
in payment.
Swearing, curses, disappointed sighs! With such a fine crop of cocoons
the villagers had never dreamed that their lot would be even worse than
usual! It was as if hailstones dropped out of a clear sky. People like
Old Tung Pao, whose crop was especially good, took it hardest of all.
"What is the world coming to!" He beat his breast and stamped
his feet in helpless frustration.
But the villagers had to think of something. The cocoons would spoil
if kept too long. They either had to sell them or remove the silk themselves.
Several families had already brought out and repaired silk reels they
hadn't used for years. They would first remove the silk from the cocoons
and then see about the next step. Old Tung Pao wanted to do the same.
"We won't sell our cocoons; we'll spin the silk ourselves!"
said the old man. "Nobody ever heard of selling cocoons until the
foreign devils' companies started the thing!"
Ah Sze's wife was the first to object. "We've got over five hundred
catties of cocoons here," she retorted. "Where are you going
to get enough reels?"
She was right. Five hundred catties was no small amount. They'd never
get finished spinning the silk themselves. Hire outside help? That meant
spending money. Ah Sze agreed with his wife. Ah To blamed his father for
planning incorrectly....
At last a ray of hope appeared. Huang the Priest had heard somewhere
that a silk house below the city of Wusih was doing business as usual.
Actually an ordinary peasant, Huang was nicknamed "The Priest"
because of the learned airs he affected and his interests in Taoist "magic."
Old Tung Pao always got along with him fine. After learning the details
from him, Old Tung Pao conferred with his elder son Ah Sze about going
to Wusih.
"It's about 270 li by water, six days for the round trip,"
ranted the old man. "It's an expedition! But what else can we do?
We can't eat the cocoons, and our creditors are pressing hard!"
Ah Sze agreed. They borrowed a small boat and bought a few yards of matting
to cover the cargo. It was decided that Ah To should go along. Taking
advantage of the good weather, the cocoon selling "expeditionary
force" set out.
Five days later, the men returned - but not with an empty hold. They
still had one basket of cocoons. The silk filature, which they reached
after a 270-li journey by water, offered extremely harsh terms - only
thirty-five dollars a load for foreign breed, twenty for local; thin cocoons
not wanted at any price. Although their cocoons were all first class,
the people at the silk house picked and chose only enough to fill one
basket; the rest were rejected. Old Tung Pao and his sons received a hundred
and ten dollars for the sale, ten of which had to be spent as travel expenses.
The hundred dollars remaining was not even enough to pay back what they
had borrowed for that last thirty loads of mulberry leaves! On the return
trip, Old Tung Pao became ill with rage. His sons carried him into the
house.
Ah Sze's wife had no choice but to take the ninety odd catties they had
brought back and reel the silk from the cocoons herself. She borrowed
a few reels from Sixth Treasure's family and worked for six days. All
their rice was gone now. Ah Sze took the silk into town, but no one would
buy it. Even the pawn shop didn't want it. Only after much pleading was
he able to persuade the pawnbroker to take it in exchange for a load of
rice they had pawned before "Clear and Bright".
That's the way it happened. Because they raised a crop of spring silkworms,
the people in Old Tung Pao's village got deeper into debt. Old Tung Pao's
family raised five trays and gathered a splendid harvest of cocoons. Yet
they ended up owing another thirty silver dollars and losing their mortgaged
mulberry trees - to say nothing of suffering a month of hunger and sleepless
nights in vain!
Note: Wade-Giles system of romanization is used in this
text.
Excerpted with permission from the translation of Mao
Dun's story, as found in Patricia Buckley Ebrey, ed., Chinese
Civilization and Society: A Sourcebook. (New York: Free Press),
©1981.
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Discussion Questions
for Spring Silkworms
- What do you think caused the changed world Old Tung Pao laments? What
national forces? What international forces? (Remember that this story
was written in the early 1930s).
- Can you see how anti-foreign, nationalist arguments would appeal to
the peasants? Explain.
- How would the Chinese Communist Party have appealed to people like
these peasants in this once prosperous silk producing village in central
China? What appeals would the Nationalists have made? Local strongmen?
- How do you think war with Japan would increase the hardships on these
villagers?
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Mao Zedong "Report on the Investigation
of the Peasant Movement in Hunan"
March 1927
The Importance of The Peasant Problem
During my recent visit to Hunan I made a first-hand investigation of
conditions in the five counties of Hsiantan, Hsianghsiang, Henshan, Liling
and Changsha. In the thirty-two days from January 4 to February 5, I called
together fact-finding conferences in villages and county towns, which
were attended by experienced peasants and by comrades working in the peasant
movement, and I listened attentively to their reports and collected a
great deal of material. Many of the hows and whys of the peasant movement
were the exact opposite of what the gentry in Hankow and Changsha
are saying. I saw and heard of many strange things of which I had hitherto
been unaware. I believe the same is true of any other places, too. All
talk directed against the peasant movement must be speedily set right.
All the wrong measures taken by the revolutionary authorities concerning
the peasant movement must be speedily changed. Only thus can the future
of the revolution be benefited. For the present upsurge of the peasant
movement is a colossal event. In a very short time, in China's central,
southern and northern provinces, several hundred million peasants will
rise like a mighty storm, like a hurricane, a force so swift and violent
that no power, however great, will be able to hold it back. They will
smash all the trammels that bind them and rush forward along the road
to liberation. They will sweep all the imperialists, warlords, corrupt
officials, local tyrants and evil gentry into their graves. Every revolutionary
party and every revolutionary comrade will be put to the test, to be accepted
or rejected as they decide. There are three alternatives. To march at
their head and lead them. To trail behind them, gesticulating and criticizing.
Or to stand in their way and oppose them. Every Chinese is free to choose,
but events will force you to make the choice quickly.
*This article was written as a reply to the carping criticisms
both inside and outside the Party then being levelled at the peasants'
revolutionary struggle. Comrade Mao Zedong spent thirty-two days
in Hunan Province making an investigation and wrote this report in order
to answer these criticisms.
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Discussion Questions for Mao's
"Report ..."
- What do you suppose the "gentry in Hankow and Changsha"
and "revolutionary authorities" believed about the peasants?
- What did Mao predict about peasant behavior in the future?
- What do you think he was suggesting as a wise course of action to
follow regarding peasants and revolution?
- What factors were necessary to make a rural based revolution succeed?
Rank these factors and discuss their relative importance:
- bad harvests
- landlordism
- poverty
- market collapse
- nationalism
- education
- arms
- military strategy
- leaders from outside
- leaders from within
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