For this lofty cause, hundreds have sacrificed their lives and still more are suffering in chains in Communist concentration camps. Never will they concede defeat and give up the struggle.
For half a century before the Communist take-over, Peking University was a symbol of freedom of thought in modern China. Guided by three prominent scholars, the late Mr. Tsai Yuan-pei, Dr. Chiang Monlin and Dr. Hu Shih, Peking University always came to the fore to guard academic freedom against intruders - first the Chinese warlords and later the Japanese militarists. From its weathered buildings outside the "Forbidden City" have emerged thousands of scholars and scientists bearing its traditional mark of liberalism and learning.
Peking University's most glorious day dawned on May 4, 1919, when its students led an angry demonstration against the betrayal of sovereign rights to Japan by the Peking government. The demonstration touched off nation-wide strikes by colleges and middle schools. Finally, the Peking government bowed to the popular outcries and fired the derelict officials. The movement sparked the flame of patriotism across the nation. It was this patriotic spirit that sustained China in the eight long years of war against Japan.
But now, nine years after the Chinese Communists overran the mainland, Peking University has changed beyond recognition. The leading professors of the hey day university have been either liquidated or relegated to dark corners. The Communists, supervised by their Russian overlords, control everything. Students are ordered to sweat over manual labor, instead of pursuing advanced studies in libraries or laboratories. The last vestiges of the university's traditions of free thought are gone.
Among the first things Mao Tse-tung did after his ascension to power was to tear apart this oldest university of China. In 1950, hardly had he established himself in Peiping than he evicted Peking University from its campus. Three universities of long standing, Peking, Tsinghua and Yenching, were amalgamated into the new "Peking University" of the Communists, using the Yenching campus as its grounds.
In the merger, Peking University lost its colleges of agriculture, medical science, and engineering. What remained are the colleges of arts, science, and part of the college of law, all run in the Communist way. This dissection and amalgamation set the stage for a sweeping brainwashing designed to root out the academic freedom and liberalism which had for decades been the traditions of Peking University.
From the very beginning, the Chinese Communists have clenched Peking University tightly in their hands. Professor Ma Ying-chu, a noted Chinese economist who once had great illusions about Communism, is merely a titular head as the university's president. He practically has no voice in anything. The real power rests with the vice president, Kiang Hai-lung, a diehard Communist toughened by long years of guerrilla warfare. Professor Ma was exiled to his native town of Cheng-hsien in November 1957 to "reform himself," and since then his spent figure has not been seen.
In the first wave of purges immediately following the Communist takeover, more than 2,100 students and professors were arrested and thrown into jail. A considerable number of them were shot; some perished in concentration camps, and the fate of others is unknown.
Two years later, in 1952, came the bloody, nation-wide "anti-corruption, anti-waste and anti-bureaucratic movements." Professors, and students of Peking University could hardly escape. Insults were openly flung upon some of China's most learned scholars. Students suspected of being rightist-inclined were subjected to torture. Many committed suicide to end their miserable lot. Professor Chu Kuang-chien, one of the foremost Chinese contemporary essayists, was driven to such a state of fear that he felt death would befall him at any moment. The Communists, hesitating possibly because of his wide popularity, later spared him.
Then followed those endless sessions of brainwashing. The Communists goaded the students to "challenge" their teachers. For three months the professors lived in a nightmare. According to British-educated Professor Hu Ping-fang, the same ruthless tactics employed in the purges of landlords were applied to him and his colleagues. Slaps on the faces and kicks were not uncommon. Many professors still shudder at the thought of that period.
The curricula were almost completely changed. For instance, Marxism is the only thing taught as a social science. Professors of other schools of social science were simply discarded. Professor Li Ching-han, formerly of the sociology department, was ordered to work as an apprentice at a textile mill for several years. Other professors were reassigned to the library as clerks.
Despite the Communist persecution, the seed of liberalism remains alive in the hearts of the professors and students. News of the Hungarian revolution, trickling into mainland China belatedly, stirred up the smothered fire of liberalism. In May, 1957, the flame burst out. Indignant professors, forgetful of the risk of speaking out, literally shouted at the Communists.
Said Professor Huang Chi-chung, of Peking University's foreign languages department: "The Communists are devoid of human nature. To them, there is no parental care, nor filial piety, nor matrimonial love, nor friendship. When they open their mouths, only political jargon comes out." So he told his students: "Think thrice, not twice, before you join the Communists."
Echoed Professor Yang Jen-keng of the Chinese language department: "I shiver whenever I meet a Communist. When they talk to you, they first check your own background, then check the background of someone you know, and finally march you off to jail." Several other professors, Fu Ying of the chemistry department, Miss Tsui Chi-lan, a professor of the physics department, and Feng Yu-lan of the philosophy department were among those uttering harsh criticism against the Communists.
The professors' criticism was comparatively mild in tone. The bitterest attack came from the student body. For some 40 days, the Peking University of former days seemed suddenly revived. Emulating their forerunners of 1919, the students launched a "New May 4th" movement, giving vent to their suppressed hatred of the Communists. They wanted to have their academic freedom back. Dauntlessly, students of Peking University held up the standard for liberalism and pushed the movement to other colleges and universities in Peiping.
This loud demand for academic freedom came closely on the heels of a Communist "let all flowers blossom and hundred school contend" campaign, which was designed to soothe the anger of the mainland Chinese following the Hungarian revolution.
For a while, the Communists appeared to be strangely tolerant. Contrary to what some of the professors had feared, the Communists took no actions against the leaders of the student movement. Some people began to doubt whether after all the Communists were not completely deaf to the students' appeals.
Then, in a lightning blow, the Communists nipped the whole movement in the bud. They rounded up some 1,000 students of Peking University alone, not counting those of other colleges. The leaders were executed, and the rest were shut up in labor camps to die a slow death under the lashes of Communist whips.