“I’m the imperialist” (Peking)

During one of our one-to-one lessons in 1994, my British ambassador student, Sir Leonard Appleyard, told me about the time in the 60s when he was serving at the British Embassy in (the then) Peking.  

It had been negotiated for the White Russians who’d been living in exile in north-east China to leave for another country (maybe America).  

Appleyard had been chosen to escort them, on the day of their departure, between the train station at which they were arriving from the north-east, and the airport to catch their flight out of China.  He had been chosen because he could speak Russian and Mandarin, and Britain was also a neutral country.

The route between the train station and the airport was lined with Red Guards, shouting angrily, in Chinese, “Revisionists!  Revisionists!  Revisionists!”  

When the group of White Russians and Appleyard arrived at the airport and got out of the vehicle, with the Red Guards thronging them and still chanting angrily, “Revisionists!  Revisionists!  Revisionists!”, it was well nigh impossible to make their way to the airport building, not to mention a bit hairy and threatening to turn ugly.

Appleyard, ever so quick, said in Chinese, “They are the revisionists.  I am British, so I’m the imperialist.”  

The Red Guards were stunned into momentary silence, amazed at his wit, and his ability to be witty in Chinese on top of that.  

Then, they burst into laughter and the sea of red parted to allow the group to go through.

(China, 1966–1968)

Mao's little red book (China)

The Red Guard students had gone prepared, taking a few crates of Mao’s little red book with them to spread the word.  

After a few days at the village (see blog entry The two Mao brothers), when the villagers were starting to feel comfortable with them, they approached a more amenable villager and asked him if he’d like to have a copy of it.  After a brief hesitation, he accepted it. 

A few days later, he came back to the students, “You know that little book you gave me the other day?  Do you have another copy?”  

Bingo, the students thought!  One convert!  And he’s going to convert someone else.  They handed over a second copy. 

Yet a few more days later, the same man came back with a request for a third copy.  This was going really well, the students thought.  At this rate, the man will have converted the whole village for them in no time at all. 

After a few more copies, the students thought they should investigate and get some details about this conversion process of his, “Why have you been asking for only one copy each time?  What do you do with the copies we give you?”  

The man said, “Oh, it’s the best quality tobacco-rolling paper I’ve ever come across!”

(China, Cultural Revolution 1966–76)