God Is Red - Liao Yiwu [51]
Wang: Yes, we could feel things change. Political control became somewhat relaxed; prayer and other religious activities resumed in our village. The local government found out and gathered all the Miao people for a meeting. One leader lectured us: “It’s been only a few months since that counterrevolutionary was executed. You are not learning any lessons. Instead, you are meeting secretly to conduct religious activities. Your disregard for the Communist Party will be punished. Who is your leader? Step out!”
I was the first to step forward. In 1976 I was officially arrested and thrown in the same jail as my father. The public security officers said I was more incorrigible than my father. If my father’s crimes were committed unintentionally because he had been brainwashed in the pre-Communist days, mine were premeditated. For the first four months, I was in solitary confinement, a small dark room with a concrete floor. The room had a porcelain bowl and a container for urine. I conducted all my activities—eating, drinking, peeing, and shitting—in that tiny space. I was in darkness all the time. A person cannot stay in darkness. A plant will die without sunlight. Animals go crazy after two weeks.
Liao: But a person can keep his sanity because he can think.
Wang: I had God in my heart. He kept me sane. During the Cultural Revolution, seven members of my family were persecuted; my father was executed; my second brother, Wang Zihua, who was dean of the People’s Hospital in the Nujiang Lisu Ethnic Autonomous Prefecture, became a target of public condemnation. Wang Zihua couldn’t take the beatings and the endless public denunciation. He jumped into the Nu River, committing suicide. My elder brother, Wang Zirong, followed the same path as I. We were arrested at the same time, both sentenced to eight years, and were released at the same time. I was sent to a labor camp in Yao-an County while my brother stayed in Luquan County. My mother’s two sisters and one of my father’s sisters were also arrested. They were sentenced to five and three years respectively for organizing and attending secret religious gatherings.
In 1979 China relaxed its control over religion and we were all released ahead of schedule after serving three years. In early 1980 the winds seemed to have changed in our favor. The government sent word that I was chosen to be a representative to the Wuding County People’s Congress, a local legislative body. I couldn’t refuse the appointment. I dug out my “sentence reduction certificate” and showed it to the head of the local People’s Congress. I pointed out the words printed on the document: “The criminal has confessed his crimes and is granted early release on good behavior.” I said, “How can a former criminal be eligible for the position of a legislator?” The official went red in the face and said, “They did a sloppy job. I’ll look into this.” A couple of days later, I was issued a new document, which said I was cleared of all charges. My father’s name was also cleared after they officially reversed the verdict. We were then able to build a tomb for him.
Liao: I believe it is the only monument known to commemorate a Christian killed in the Cultural Revolution.
Wang: In 1996 the church here held a big memorial service for my father, the largest in history; the choir alone numbered two thousand.
Liao: And in 1998 Westminster Abbey in London chose your father as one of ten Christian martyrs of the twentieth century to be honored. Tell me about that.
Wang: He was honored with a statue above the Great West Door of the Abbey. I didn’t learn about it until later. Someone sent us a thick stack of documents. They were all written in English. Since I was only a middle-school graduate—I wasn’t allowed to complete high school because of my father’s “counterrevolutionary activities”—I didn’t understand a word of it. In December 2002 a relative’s son went to London and took some pictures of