Mao: The Unknown Story

Mao asked Lin to make a self-criticism in front of the top echelon and say that he had been “deceived” by Chen. Lin declined. Until now, thanks to his special relationship with Mao, he had always avoided having to subject himself to this humiliating ritual. Even though Mao insisted, Lin refused to budge. There was an impasse. After four decades, the Mao — Lin relationship began to fall apart.

AFTER LUSHAN, which ended inconclusively on 6 September, Mao moved to reduce Lin’s power — and also to ensure his personal safety. He summoned trusted generals who were not in Lin’s coterie to take over the military command of Peking, and inserted them into the army leadership. He also cleaned up his own household, by dismissing some of his favorite girlfriends who had come from the air force’s song and dance troupe, a procuring service for Mao, which had links to Lin.

Mao had to tread very gingerly so as not to make Lin feel personally threatened. He could ill afford to break with Lin completely. Virtually the entire regime was staffed with people selected by Lin and his personal network. Mao wanted to neutralize him as much as possible without purging him. The interminable machinations needed to achieve this sapped Mao’s energy, and that winter he fell ill with pneumonia. It was now, at seventy-seven, that old age suddenly set in, and he who had enjoyed extraordinary good health began to be besieged by illness.

Meanwhile, Lin Biao continued to refuse to perform the self-abasement that Mao demanded. Always a loner, he became even more withdrawn, and spent most of his time pacing his room, occasionally watching war films. He dictated a letter to Mao, making it clear that in the event of his being purged, Mao would have to restaff the entire machine that Lin had installed; the only possible replacements would have to be the old Party cadres, and that would mean repudiating the Cultural Revolution. But at his wife’s urging, Lin did not send the letter. Mao would not tolerate being threatened in such a way.

A more realistic option for Lin was to cut and run, as past foes of Mao’s had done: Chang Kuo-tao to the Nationalists in the 1930s, and Wang Ming to Moscow in the 1950s. With his control of the air force, Lin could escape overseas. The obvious choice was Russia. He had spent over four years there altogether, and his wife spoke workable Russian, having had a Russian officer lover. It was a sign of Lin Biao’s mistrust of Communist regimes that Russia was only his fallback choice, and his preferred destination was the British colony of Hong Kong.

Lin’s plan was to fly first to Canton, which is very close to Hong Kong, and where the military were exceptionally devoted to him. To secure this escape route, he relied on his only son, Li-guo, whom he called “Tiger,” who was in his mid-twenties. In November 1970, soon after Lin’s breach with Mao at Lushan, Tiger started to see people from the Canton military. His intimates made frequent secret visits to Canton, got hold of small arms, radios and cars, and learned to fly helicopters. During all these extensive activities, no one informed on Tiger, who inspired loyalty.

Tiger had been a physics student at Peking University when the Cultural Revolution started. Unusually for a young man of his background, he only joined the Red Guards reluctantly, and quickly left, showing no inclination for violence, or for persecuting people. He seems to have been a decent person. He was something of a playboy, and had many girlfriends. His parents worshipped him, and his mother had sent agents all over China to look for the most beautiful young woman to be his wife. Tiger chose a sexy fiancée who was intelligent, and a character. With her he listened to Western rock music, which he adored, and told her: “There will be a day when I will let the Chinese know there is such wonderful music in the world!”

Being able to enjoy Western music was only one of Tiger’s many rare privileges as the son of Lin Biao. Another was access to Western science magazines, which he devoured, often expressing admiration for the advances being made in the West. (He was an avid inventor of military equipment, with some effective ideas of his own.) But above all, he was able to read some top-secret documents, with the result that he was exceptionally well informed.

Tiger came to be sharply critical of Mao’s tyranny. In March 1971, he and three friends put their thoughts on paper:

Senior officials feel anger but dare not speak up;

Peasants lack food and clothing;

Educated youth rusticated: prison labour in disguise;

The Red Guards were deceived and used at the beginning … as cannon fodder [and then] scapegoats …

Workers’ … wages have been frozen: disguised exploitation.