The Independent (London)
March 10, 1990, p. 13
Out of China: Such is the stuff heroes are made of in China
By ANDREW HIGGINS
LEI FENG
VILLAGE, Hunan Province - He was born, or so the legend goes, in a mud
and grass hut. He died only 22 years later, when a wooden pole used
for drying washing fell on his head.
The bits in between were no more heroic - he drove a tractor, worked
in a steel mill, cleaned toilets and washed socks for soldiers in the
People's Liberation Army. He spent his spare time reading and preaching
the gospel of a fellow but slightly more ambitious Hunanese peasant,
Mao Tse-tung.
Such is the stuff heroes, even saints, are made of in China today. And
none can rival Lei Feng, the doltish soldier who, before his death in
1962, confided in his diary that his only ambition was to become ''a
rustless screw in the machine of the revolution''. It is an ambition
that the Communist Party, traumatised by the events of last June, would
like more people to share. The ''screw spirit'' - first hailed by Mao
in 1963 - is back with a vengeance. To commemorate the anniversary of
Mao's order to ''learn from Lei Feng'', the Communist Party has orchestrated
a posthumous personality cult unprecedented in the post-Mao era.
Newspapers sing his praises; leaders talk about virtually nothing else
while soldiers and schoolchildren are lectured endlessly on the need
to copy his example. On Sunday, officially designated Learn from Lei-Feng
Activity Day, the entire Politburo penned inscriptions in praise. More
than half the evening news was devoted to a man many suspect may never
have even existed.
None the less, the Lei Feng spirit of selfless devotion stirs more giggles
than respect. There are a few true believers - most of them in Lei Feng's
home village, which has been named in honour of its famous son. Here
the faith runs deep. There is a Lei Feng restaurant, a Lei Feng Electrical
Appliance Store, and a Lei Feng Memorial Museum, run by a Lei Feng fundamentalist
who claims to be Lei Feng's cousin. ''Some people used to say the Lei
Feng spirit was outdated,'' the museum director Lei Mengxuan says, shaking
his head at the mere thought of such a heresy. ''His spirit will never
die. It will live on forever.''
He admits that 10 years of economic reform have undermined the faith,
but takes comfort in the recent hardline resurgence in Peking. ''I was
never pessimistic. I knew that Lei Feng would be needed again some day.''
The party has tried to revive the ''screw spirit'' before. Two years
ago, it even decided to reshape its dead hero's image to suit the reformist
mood prevailing in Peking. Lei Feng, officials announced, was a keen
student of economics and kept his money in a high-interest account.
But few were convinced and the campaign faltered. The current revival
takes the cult back to its roots.
The museum is packed with children and soldiers bussed in for organised
tours. The message of unquestioning discipline is one China's leaders
must drive home if they are to avoid a Romanian-style revolt in the
ranks. For cynics who doubt Lei Feng's existence, the museum offers
displays of what are said to be his belongings - ''the tattered blankets
used by three generations of the Lei family and (preserved under glass)
a mosquito net and (also used by three generations) Lei Feng's application
to join the party in 1960; copies of Mao's collected works (with margin
notes by Lei Feng: ''Sacrifice everything for the interests of the party
and the proletariat''). The central text of the Lei Feng cult, its famous
- but some believe fake - diary, is also on display. Allegedly written
while Lei was in the army but not discovered until after his death and
canonisation, the diary forms a guide to communist sanctity. Each exhibition
hall is decorated with selected entries in bold characters. ''For the
Party and the People I will plunge into the great sea, march into mountains,''
reads one passage. ''Even if my head is smashed, my bones broken, my
body will remain red, my heart crimson. Never will I change my mind.''
The museum presents Lei Feng's life as a communist morality play. Before
he was six, his uncle, father and two brothers died ''because of brutal
oppression and class exploitation''. Next to go was his mother, who
hanged herself after being raped by her landlord. Fired by ''burning
class hatred'', he vowed to commit himself to the Maoist ideal of ''serving
the people''. Though skinny and short, he wangled his way into the army.
He tricked recruiters by pressing down on the scales to make himself
heavier. The museum contains photographs of Lei Feng in action as a
good Samaritan and loyal trooper. You can see Lei Feng lobbing hand
grenades, offering food to his comrades, reading Mao in the cab of his
truck, and performing other thankless tasks. If anyone is confused by
the mysterious presence of a photographer at every stage of Lei Feng's
humdrum life, the museum director offers an explanation: his good deeds
went unrecorded at first, but were later restaged for the benefit of
posterity.
Copyright 1990 Newspaper Publishing PLC
