
Trial of Mao Zedong Content
Part II: No use for the hound once the hare is caught
87. Yan Fuqing (1882–1970)
Yan Fuqing was China’s first medical doctor trained in the United States. He founded Xiangya Medical College in Changsha and Shanghai Medical College, and served as the first president of the Chinese Medical Association. In his early years in Changsha, he once treated Mao’s wife, Yang Kaihui. During the Cultural Revolution, he was persecuted, struggled against, and ultimately tormented to death.
One day, Mao thought of Yan Fuqing and wished to meet him in person to apologize and seek his forgiveness, hoping to clear one more offense before the Jade Emperor. He submitted a request, which was approved, and the Jade Emperor arranged their meeting.
Mao spoke bluntly: “The Cultural Revolution harmed you terribly and left you devastated. I feel deeply grieved and have come to apologize.”
Yan replied, “During the Cultural Revolution, I was forced to wear a dunce cap and labeled a ‘traitor,’ a ‘foreign Wu Xun,’ and a ‘reactionary patriarch of medicine.’ I was compelled to sing the ‘Song of Ox-ghosts and Snake-spirits,’ paraded through the streets for struggle sessions, physically abused and spiritually humiliated. Beyond fists and kicks, ink was poured over my head. I had once been robust in health, but long-term torment reduced me to skin and bones, beyond recognition, bedridden. My grandson had to support me to attend struggle sessions. It led to severe emphysema and breathing difficulties. My family carried me to Zhongshan Hospital, which I had founded, but I was denied admission. In the end, I was summoned by God.”
Mao said, “You died so tragically. After my death, you were rehabilitated, were you not?”
Yan replied, “In 1978, Fudan University in Shanghai rehabilitated me, held a memorial service, and erected a statue in my honor.”
Mao said, “During the Cultural Revolution you were cruelly struggled against, and I knew nothing of it. Had I known, I would certainly have stopped it.”
Yan answered, “You stood so high above that you could not attend to ordinary people. I do not blame the young students either; they were following your orders and did not understand.”
Mao said, “You were a special benefactor to me—you once treated my wife’s acute illness. I have never forgotten.”
Yan replied, “I recall that in the early years after the founding of the People’s Republic, when you hosted a banquet for distinguished figures, you specifically called my name and asked me to sit beside you. You mentioned the incident of carrying your wife on your back to seek my treatment, but at the time I could hardly remember it.”
Mao said, “You were already a famous doctor then, with many patients—many treated free of charge. I was not a public figure; how could you remember me? That day there was heavy rain. I carried Yang Kaihui to you to treat her malaria. After curing her, you did not charge a fee. I was profoundly grateful.”
Yan replied, “You have a good memory. In 1956, when you visited Shanghai, you received me again.”
Mao said, “The Cultural Revolution made you suffer. Yet you remain broad-minded and forgiving, blaming my loss of reason in my later years. In order to bring down Liu Shaoqi and become emperor, I disregarded everything—and implicated you as well.”
Yan said, “I do not quite understand—why were you determined to bring down Liu Shaoqi?”
Mao replied, “I feared that after my death he would whip my corpse.”
Yan asked, “What hold did he have over you?”
Mao said, “At the Seven Thousand Cadres Conference in 1962, he publicly stated that the great famine was seventy percent man-made disaster—that was aimed at me.”
Yan said, “Man-made disaster was an objective reality. The great famine was caused by you. History cannot be changed. You may conceal it for a time, but never forever. You are well-versed in Chinese history—among five thousand years of imperial rule, which tyrant’s crimes remain unknown today? Your successors have covered for you for more than forty years, but I do not believe it can be covered for a hundred.”
Mao asked, “Then what do you suggest?”
Yan replied, “The mistake has been made. You can only confess and repent. Concealing it or shifting blame only adds to your guilt. The crime of the Cultural Revolution developed from your refusal to admit fault for the Great Leap Forward and the great famine. Now you must hasten to repent, publicly confess to the nation, and urge your successors to correct themselves as well.”
Mao responded perfunctorily, “Hearing you speak this way, I understand. I am continuing to reflect and prepare to face the Jade Emperor’s public judgment.”
After this conversation, Mao felt that Yan’s reasoning was sound. He then rose, took his leave, and bid him farewell.
