During the Cultural Revolution, Chen Boda was once the fourth-ranking figure in the Chinese Communist Party, after Mao, Lin, and Zhou. In 1970, after clashing with Jiang Qing and echoing Lin Biao at the Lushan Conference, he was abandoned by Mao, imprisoned, and died in relative loneliness. He lived to the age of 85, which could still be considered a natural end. More than forty years after his own death, Mao once again reflected on Chen Boda.

Chen had served as Mao’s secretary for thirty years and contributed greatly. Many articles were actually written by Chen, with Mao merely signing his name. Chen had committed no major offenses in his life and had even once saved Mao’s life in Xibaipo. Considering Chen’s eventual fate, Mao felt remorse and wished to see him. The Jade Emperor therefore arranged for the spirits of Mao and Chen to meet.

Mao began bluntly: “You died in great desolation. No one in the central leadership paid attention to you; you disappeared in silence. It was unfair!”

Chen replied: “I bore grave crimes. If the central authorities ignored me, I do not complain. Fortunately, my children and grandchildren were by my side, and my family was harmonious. I was able to reach the end of my life peacefully.”

Mao said: “What grave crimes did you have? Those charges and labels were things I said on impulse. As the saying goes, ‘If one is determined to accuse, one need not worry about the lack of a pretext.’ You need not dwell on them. You followed me for thirty years and knew my habits well. When I find someone useful, I use him; when not, I cast him aside—imprison or even execute him—I feel nothing about it.”

Chen answered: “After 1970, I constantly reproached myself and criticized myself. During the Cultural Revolution I was foolish and often acted as if mad. I bear much guilt. My life was a tragedy.”

Mao continued: “Back then, you wrote The Public Enemy Chiang Kai-shek, China’s Four Big Families, and A Critique of China’s Destiny, rendering great service. After the founding of the People’s Republic, you wrote On Mao Zedong Thought and Stalin and the Chinese Revolution. You also helped draft the Common Program, the Constitution, the Resolution on Agricultural Cooperation, the ‘Twenty-Three Articles’ of the Four Cleanups Movement, and the ‘Sixteen Articles’ of the Cultural Revolution. You presided over all of these. You were the pen I could not do without.”

Chen replied: “All those were written according to your ideas. I invented nothing.”

Mao said: “When the Central Cultural Revolution Group wanted you as its head, you kept shrinking back, putting Zhou Enlai in a difficult position.”

Chen responded: “I told Zhou Enlai I was not suitable and that Jiang Qing should take the position. He asked me, ‘Are you a Communist Party member? Should a Communist not obey?’ So I had to take the role, though I had difficulties.”

Mao said: “Jiang Qing lacked seniority. You were a Standing Committee member—how could you serve as her deputy?”

Chen explained: “Jiang Qing was your wife. When she spoke, it was hard to tell whether it was your opinion or her own. I could only treat everything as your opinion and act accordingly. In meetings I first watched her expression before proceeding. In reality, I was presiding on her behalf.”

Mao replied: “You were the fourth-ranking member of the Standing Committee!”

Chen said: “I repeatedly told you I should not be ranked so high. Later you elevated Tao Zhu to fourth place and I became fifth. But once Tao Zhu fell, I became fourth again. Of course, rank depends on substance. In substance, I had to listen to Jiang Qing. Zhou Enlai ranked third, yet he often had to listen to her as well.”

Mao said: “The problem was that later you followed Lin Biao. At the Ninth Party Congress you listened to him while drafting the political report. At the Lushan Conference you echoed his views.”

Chen answered: “At the Ninth Congress, I supported prioritizing productive development. You criticized this as ‘the theory of productive forces only.’ At Lushan, Lin Biao insisted you serve as chairman; I thought it was merely an internal Party opinion and saw nothing improper. The ‘theory of genius’ was praise that had long been expressed. I never imagined it would displease you. Then you cast me out; criticizing Chen became the prelude to criticizing Lin.”

Mao asked: “When you were thrown into prison, what did you think?”

Chen replied: “After the September 13, 1971 incident, when Lin Biao fled, I was immediately taken to Qincheng Prison. I felt utterly doomed and cried out for help. I said that in 1948 in Fuping, Hebei, I had saved your life. I heard Nationalist planes coming to bomb and rushed to tell you to flee. As soon as you left, bombs hit your residence precisely. After I said this, my prison conditions improved noticeably within days, and a doctor checked on me daily.”

Mao said: “I remember that. You did save my life. But that was in the past. I have always believed that once something is past, it is past—expired and void.”

Chen continued: “After your death and the arrest of the ‘Gang of Four,’ I was formally arrested, and my prison treatment worsened. At my 1980 trial I even said, ‘If it cannot appease public anger, I can be executed.’ In 1981 I was sentenced to eighteen years.”

Mao asked: “So you remained in prison the whole time?”

Chen answered: “No. I must thank Wang Li. He had a conscience. In 1981, while in Qincheng Prison, he wrote to Deng Liqun, Hu Yaobang, and Deng Xiaoping, saying that I had rendered service to the Party and had already been imprisoned for over ten years, suggesting parole. Ten days later, the central authorities decided on medical parole and transferred me to the cadre ward of Beijing Friendship Hospital. They then arranged for my son, Chen Xiaonong, to come to Beijing to care for me. A few months later, I was assigned to live in a bungalow in the suburbs. I remained on medical parole there until 1988, when my sentence expired and my civil rights were restored.”

Mao said: “So on parole you could live with your family. Was your family life acceptable?”

Chen replied: “I was satisfied. Though I had no freedom, I no longer cared. Being reunited with my family was enough. I enjoyed family happiness, read according to my interests, wrote a little, and lived eight such years.”

Mao asked: “What did you write? Was it published?”

Chen answered: “My notes were all cultural, unrelated to politics. I had no intention to publish them. Unexpectedly, in 1982, Zhou Yang approached me. During our conversations I gave him my manuscript. He published my essay ‘The Difficulty of Seeking Knowledge’ under a pseudonym in the tenth issue of Reading magazine in 1982. I was deeply moved. Sadly, the following year Zhou Yang was criticized during the campaign against ‘spiritual pollution’ for his remarks on ‘alienation’ and ‘humanitarianism,’ and we never met again. Later, Hu Qiaomu recommended my essay ‘Gradual and Sudden Enlightenment in Cognition—From the Platform Sutra to the Two Schools of Chinese Buddhism,’ which was published under a pseudonym in Theory and Practice in July 1983.”

Mao said: “Good—you continued scholarly pursuits. Did you write memoirs?”

Chen replied: “I wrote no political memoirs. But I gave interviews. The Shanghai writer Ye Yonglie came to Beijing many times to talk with me about the Cultural Revolution. I thought it might be good to leave some lessons for posterity. He showed me his manuscript for review. I said my eyesight was poor and I did not wish to read it. I had told the truth; he could write it as he liked. I have had many lessons in my life. I do not wish to involve myself in politics again.”

Mao said: “After your death, Ye Yonglie published The Biography of Chen Boda. What you said about the Cultural Revolution was truthful. You were extremely strict with yourself, constantly reflecting and repenting. Within the Politburo, none could match you in this. You left lessons for future generations—truly exemplary.”

Chen responded: “Thank you for the praise, but I dare not accept it. I have repeatedly said I am merely ‘a small commoner.’ I am willing to criticize myself forever to atone for my sins.”

Mao perfunctorily replied: “I must also learn from you, continue reflecting and repenting, and seek the Jade Emperor’s forgiveness. Today’s conversation has benefited me greatly.”

With that, he rose to take his leave. Watching Mao depart, Chen silently reflected on his life and sighed: “The fate of one who serves as a lackey or a dog is just this—brought upon oneself.”

NEXT: 56. Chen Yun (1905–1995)