This Week in China’s History: July 20, 1967
In the middle of the night of July 20, 1967 — it was already July 21 — Máo Zédōng 毛泽东 boarded a plane to fly out of Wuhan, spirited from the city by his closest advisers who feared for his safety. Mao was fleeing what his supporters called “a counter-revolutionary armed rebellion,” and “a revolt against Chairman Mao.” The threat — what political scientist Wang Shaoguang called “one of the crucial turning points in the Cultural Revolution” — was not from foreign agents or political rivals, but from one of Mao’s most reliable bases of support: the People’s Liberation Army.
It was the height of the Cultural Revolution, the maelstrom of ideology and conflict that enabled Mao to claw back power from the party he had ridden to victory in the civil war. When Mao had called on his followers to “bombard the headquarters,” few could have imagined how completely his instructions would be followed. The Party leadership had, almost to a man, been kicked to the curb while Mao harnessed a cult of personality to order “continuous revolution” centered on his own ideology.
Essential to understanding power in the People’s Republic is the linkage between the Communist Party and the military. The Red Army was vital to Mao’s ascent to power in the Long March, and again in his rehabilitation after the debacle of the Great Leap Forward. Indeed, the PLA was largely responsible for Mao’s personality cult. Lín Biāo 林彪, as defense minister, ensured that Mao’s “Little Red Book” was distributed and revered throughout the military, helping to build a brand that transcended titles.
The ties between the Party and the army are so tight that it is difficult to imagine them separating, even at moments when the army is called on to use violence against the Chinese people — in June 1989, for instance. But like so many aspects of Chinese politics and society, the Cultural Revolution turned those ties on their head.
Mao and his supporters launched the Cultural Revolution with the command to “bombard the headquarters!” Both literally and metaphorically, sources of authority came under attack: Students criticized and attacked their teachers; Party leaders’ revolutionary credentials were questioned. Even Liú Shǎoqí 刘少奇, the head of state, was forced from power and eventually died in prison. Petitions were even collected to free people from the tyranny of stoplights, suggesting that at the very least, red — not green — should mean go. The communist revolution had brought a new state into existence, but now that state was under attack from within as Mao urged ongoing, or permanent, revolution.
The doctrine of permanent revolution has appeal, especially for those not in power, but it presents a paradox. Revolution intends to subvert or overturn the existing order, but if the revolution is permanent, then either there is nothing to overthrow or the revolution itself needs to be subverted. In any case, power structures — hierarchies — are something to be overthrown.
Hierarchies are also the essence of how a military carries out its mission.
Here, Mao faced another, less abstract, contradiction. His identity as a political leader was inseparable from his role as a military leader, not because he was a great general — or a general at all — but because as chairman of the party he controlled what became known as the People’s Liberation Army. When Dèng Xiǎopíng 邓小平 came to power after Mao’s death, he eschewed most titles as he worked to build institutional rather than individual power. He was never head of state, but crucially always retained his position as chairman of the central military commission. The same has been true of every leader since.
The Cultural Revolution had propelled Mao from forced retirement to new heights of personal and political power. The military had done the same. What was Mao to do when these two engines of his authority turned on each other? This is what happened in what came to be known as the Wuhan, or July 20, Incident.
The work of the Cultural Revolution was being carried forward in Wuhan by two groups, each about half a million strong by the summer of 1967. The more radical organization was the Workers’ General Headquarters, which had arisen out of the influx of Red Guards into the city as students and others began to move around China as part of the movement to “share revolutionary experiences.” This group — allied with workers — attempted to overthrow the local municipal government in Wuhan in early 1967. While it failed in this attempt, it continued to agitate and propagandize against power structures in Wuhan, including the military.
The PLA, led by regional commander Chén Zàidào 陈再道, had detained some 500 members of the Workers’ General Headquarters, enraging the membership of the organization, which saw (not without cause) the army as a counter-revolutionary force. Meanwhile, the military established its own popular organization, the Million Heroes. The two sides waged a propaganda war for the hearts and minds of Wuhan’s people, which soon spilled over into physical violence. Statistics compiled by Wang Shaoguang, using sources from both sides, suggest that from April through June, there were hundreds of incidents involving tens of thousands of people, leaving hundreds dead and thousands injured.
Seeking to defuse tensions, the top brass flew to Wuhan to mediate, including both Mao and Zhōu Ēnlái 周恩来. If the visit was intended to ease tensions, it backfired. On July 15, learning that a delegation from Beijing had arrived, the radicals staged demonstrations to welcome their beloved chairman, taking the same opportunity to taunt the Million Heroes and accuse them of counter-revolutionary activities. Violence followed: 10 people died, with more than 100 injured. The Million Heroes were better organized and better armed than the Workers’ Headquarters, and were in a much stronger position.
Mao, though, had decided to back the more radical Workers’ Headquarters, a fact finally made clear to the PLA leadership on July 18, when Zhou brought Chen Zaido, the PLA leader, to meet with Mao himself. Mao declared that the Million Heroes — and by extension the PLA — would have to confess its errors.
Rumors soon flowed out that the leadership had turned on the army. As Wang wrote in The Wuhan Incident Reconsidered, “feeling among the members of the Million Heroes ran so high that only a single spark was needed to start a prairie fire.” Local military units mobilized.
On the morning of July 20, some 200 supporters of the army burst into the guesthouse where high-level talks had been taking place. As rumors flew, the army took as many as 1,500 trucks into the center of the city to confront the Workers’ Headquarters. “Whoever dares to touch a single hair of the Million Heroes,” one unit wrote in a public declaration, “we will wipe them out.”
Wuhan was now in full riot. As many as 1,000 people were killed, with many times more injured, but despite the chaos the outcome was never in doubt: The PLA-backed Million Heroes quickly took control of the city. Mao, convinced that a counter-revolutionary mutiny was underway, fled the city, though there was never any direct threat to his safety. Wuhan was secure in the hands of the military.
But not for long.
In the following days, the leaders of the Million Heroes were taken into custody, starting with Chen Zaidao, who was brought to Beijing for a show trial. Within a week, the Million Heroes had been disbanded, and the radicals given control of the city. Revenge killings followed, with 600 reportedly beaten to death. The army, which had brought Mao to power, had been brought low, violently. The radicals, once on the run, were now in power. The “continuous revolution” continued.
This Week in China’s History is a weekly column.
