Mao: The Unknown Story

Mao and his troops lived by staging looting sorties to neighboring counties, and sometimes farther afield. These forays were grandly called da tu-hao—literally, “smash landed tyrants.” In fact they were indiscriminate, classic bandit raids. Mao told his troops: “If the masses don’t understand what ‘landed tyrants’ means, you can tell them it means the moneyed, or ‘the rich.’ ” The term “the rich” was highly relative, and could mean a family with a couple of dozen liters of cooking oil, or a few hens. “Smash” covered a range of activities from plain robbery and ransom to killing.

These raids made frequent headlines in the press, and greatly raised Mao’s profile. It was now that he gained notoriety as a major bandit chief.

But his bandit activities garnered little support from the locals. One Red soldier recalled how hard it was to persuade the population to help them identify the rich, or to join in a raid, or even share the loot. Another described one night’s experience:

We usually surrounded the house of the landed tyrant, seizing him first and then starting to confiscate things. But this time as soon as we broke in, gongs sounded all of a sudden … and several hundred enemies [villagers] emerged … They seized over forty of our men, locked them up in the clan temple … beat them and trussed them up, the women stamping on them with their feet. Then grain barrels were put over them, with big stones on top. They were so badly tortured …

Although Mao claimed an ideological rationale — fighting the exploiting classes — the fact that his incursions were virtually indistinguishable from traditional bandit behavior remained a permanent source of discontent in his own ranks, particularly among the military commanders. In December 1927 the chief commander, Chen Hao, tried to take the troops away while on a looting expedition. Mao rushed to the scene with a posse of supporters, and had Chen arrested, and later executed in front of the entire force. Mao almost lost his army. In the space of the few months since he had snatched the force away, all its main officers had deserted him.

As a means to curry favor with the troops, Mao set up “soldiers’ committees” to satisfy their wish for a say in the proceeds of looting. At the same time, secret Party cells were formed, answering only to Mao as the Party boss. Even ranking military superiors did not know who was a member of the Party, which amounted to a secret organization. In this way Mao used the control mechanism of communism, as well as its name, to maintain his grip on the army.

But as his grip remained far from iron-clad, and he himself was certainly not popular, Mao could never relax his vigilance about his personal safety, and it was from now that he began to perfect the security measures that developed in later life into a truly awesome — if largely invisible — system. To begin with, he had about a hundred guards, and the number grew. He picked several houses in different places in bandit country, and had them fully rigged for security. The houses invariably had escape exits such as a hole in the wall, usually at the back, leading into the mountains. Later, on the Long March, even when he was on the move, most of his houses had one notable characteristic: a special exit leading to an emergency escape route.

Mao lived in style. One residence, called the Octagonal Pavilion, was of great architectural distinction. The spacious main part, opening onto a large courtyard set beside a river, had a ceiling consisting of three layers of octagonal wooden panels that spiraled into a little glass roof, like a glass-topped pagoda. It had belonged to a local doctor, who was now moved to a corner of the courtyard but continued to practice — most convenient for Mao, as he was never quite free of some ailment or other.

Another house that Mao occupied, in the big town of Longshi, was also a doctor’s, and also magnificent. It had a strange beauty that bespoke the former prosperity of the town. The enormous house was half a European masonry villa, with an elegant loggia above a row of Romanesque arches, and half a brick-and-timber Chinese mansion, with layers of upturned eaves and delicate latticed windows. The two parts were grafted together by an exquisite octagonal doorway.

Mao’s actual HQ in Longshi was a splendid two-story mansion set in 2,000 square meters of ground, once the best school for young men from three counties — until Mao came. The whole top floor was open on three sides and looked out onto a vista of rivers and clouds. It had been designed for the pupils to enjoy the breeze in the stifling days of summer. Mao’s occupation of this building was to set a pattern. Wherever he went, schools, clan temples and Catholic churches (often the sturdiest buildings in many parts of remote rural China) were commandeered. These were the only buildings large enough for meetings, apart from being the best. School classes, naturally, were shut down.