Chairman or CEO? The Myth of Mao Still Sells

Despite the Communist Party’s efforts to celebrate today’s 110th anniversary of Mao Tse-tung’s birth with reverence and awe, for many here in his hometown, it’s more about cashing in.

Restaurants bearing Mao’s name compete aggressively to serve visitors the sauteed fatty pork dish he loved. Mao lighters, snow domes and figurines fly off the shelves of souvenir stands. In another sign of China’s economic transformation, local entrepreneurs have even leased a local graveyard holding six of Mao’s relatives for its tourist potential.

“Mao didn’t do much for his hometown while he was alive,” a local limousine driver said. “But he sure made a big contribution in death.”

Today’s milestone comes as China struggles to bridge the yawning gap between its socialist ideology and market-driven reality.

The once-godlike image of the Great Helmsman is still carefully managed by propagandists within the Chinese Communist Party wary of any criticism that might reflect poorly on Mao and, by extension, the current leadership.

Sanctioned Web sites, school textbooks and the official media make little or no mention of controversial Maoist policies like the Great Leap Forward collectivization campaign that cost millions of Chinese lives. An exhibition of 110 photographs taken by 110 photographers for this 110th anniversary in Shaoshan, in Hunan province, treats the Cultural Revolution as if it hadn’t happened.

Regardless, average Chinese continue to revere and respect the man widely credited with unifying China and ending decades of foreign subjugation. In parts of the countryside, people still claim to see his image in trees and shadows more than 27 years after his death. His multifaceted mythology -- Washington, Lincoln, Superman and Elvis rolled into one -- continues to hang over China like a heavy mist.

Laurence Brahm, owner of a Communist memorabilia restaurant and hotel in Beijing featuring chairs and limousines that once belonged to the former leadership, says Mao has a spiritual hold on many citizens matched only by a few of the greatest emperors in the nation’s history.

Taxi drivers carry Mao medallions for safe driving. More than 4 million people a year pay tribute to his waxy body in Tiananmen Square. A Web site offering virtual flowers in his memory boasts 200,000 hits a day.

The depth of feeling varies by generations, however. Most people over 40 -- including those left behind by the market economy who recall Mao’s era with nostalgia -- maintain a strong connection.

“I’m very worried China is too concerned with money,” said Peng Zhengfu, 63, a farmer and party member who came to Shaoshan to honor Mao. “He gave us our world, our greatness. People would be much better off today if they still studied his words.”

The thirtysomething generation, which is producing interesting artistic interpretations of Mao, also has a strong connection but for a different reason, experts say. In many ways their personal lives directly mirrored China’s wrenching turn to capitalism.

Below them is the group the Communist Party may be most worried about. Chinese in their teens and early 20s certainly know who Mao was, but many consider his relevance to their lives limited.

“People my age or younger are more concerned with their future, jobs, trying to get more personal freedom,” said Zhu Li, a recent graduate of Peking University whose grandfather participated in Mao’s historic Long March.

Given Mao’s near-universal resonance, however, some believe that state propagandists would have a powerful way to reach the young if they allowed Mao’s image to change with the times. But such an idea is still sacrilegious to party stalwarts.

“If they’d only let him be on T-shirts, his face different colors, wearing a ponytail, he’d be tremendously popular and his descendants would be rich,” said Hung Huang, publisher of the Chinese edition of Seventeen magazine.

Most of this week’s state-sanctioned festivities take predictable forms as the party and local governments draw on Mao’s anniversary to bolster their legitimacy and his legacy. Included in the lineup are concerts, books, newly minted stamps, television specials and a six-part documentary.

In a tepid step to reach the younger generation, however, the party has approved a Mao rap song. It’s only 30 seconds long, and the lyrics are based on Mao’s “Two Musts” principles. But there it is, to a pounding beat -- his admonishment that cadres must remain humble and prudent and persevere with “plain living and hard struggle.”

Several of Mao’s relatives traveled to his birthplace this week to mark the anniversary. As reporters angled for position, Shao Hua -- a photographer, People’s Liberation Army general and Mao daughter-in-law -- opened an exhibit of historical shots commemorating Mao’s life.

China’s Great Leader, who came to power with his party in 1949 vowing to shun the cult of personality, changed his mind on that score after consolidating his power.

During the late 1950s and 1960s, Mao’s stature grew rapidly in the state-controlled media, which informed citizens that his thoughts were so powerful, they represented a “spiritual atom bomb.”

Mao’s sayings, reportedly, also helped soldiers breathe the thin air of Tibet, enabled Shanghai workers to raise their sinking city three-quarters of an inch and helped Chinese doctors remove a 99-pound, football-sized tumor.

Propaganda art variously showed the Great Leader, Great Teacher and Supreme Commander as radiant as the sun, inheriting a long Chinese tradition that held that great rulers were blessed by heaven.

In the years just before his death in 1976, however, the excesses were toned down, paving the way for the next generation of leaders. Since 1980, economic developments have replaced Mao’s utterances as principal propaganda themes, even as his mistakes remain largely hidden.

Mao’s lingering aura is particularly strong in Shaoshan, where many ascribe almost mystical powers to him. Stories circulate about flowers blooming and the sun and moon rising together on his 100th birthday in 1993. On Dec. 26, it is said, the weather is always pleasant.

The house in which he was born, converted into a museum, reveals a man born to relative luxury, with a tile roof over several bedrooms and separate stables for pigs, cows and other farm animals, even as the neighbors slept under straw in far smaller quarters.

In a bid to maintain a sense of reverence, the local government has cleared the town center of stores around the museum, the memorial library, the memorial hall, the memorial photo gallery and the memorial concert venue for the celebration.

That hasn’t tamed the commercial gusto, however. A stage erected for today’s festivities resembles the setup for a rock concert. Giant video screens flank the stage beside scaffolding that houses floodlights and television cameras. On each side, congratulatory messages dangle from a lattice of giant red balloons resembling oversize tomatoes with short, yellow skirts.

Up on the hill, Mao’s Family Restaurant is doing booming business. Started by Mao’s former neighbors and inspired by the local pork dish that Mao favored, the company now boasts more than 40 outlets nationwide. Afraid of being left behind, other neighbors have jumped in, filling the town with Mao’s Family Dining Hall, Mao’s Family Dining Shop, Mao’s Family Dining Room, Mao’s Family Attic Room, Mao’s Family Hometown Room and Mao’s Family Firewood Room, among others.

“I believe Chinese people around the world will know those others are fakes,” said 74-year-old Tang Ruiren, founder of the original Mao’s Family Restaurant 16 years ago. “I’ve tasted their food, and it’s not very good.”

We’re not faking anything, countered Zhong Yide, owner of Mao’s Family Bay Restaurant a few clicks down the road. “Who’s got the best fatty pork? Leave that up to the consumer to decide.”

Those interested in more than their stomachs need look no farther than the nearest souvenir shop, where visitors can haggle for a range of Mao posters, Mao “Aristocrat” lighters, Mao plaques, statues, pens, bracelets, stamps, watches, handbags and the occasional “snowy” featuring gold coins that float about Mao’s golden head when shaken.

In a bow to his legacy, however, Mao statues still aren’t “sold,” in local parlance.

“Would you like to invite a Mao into your home?” asked a shop owner, pointing to likenesses ranging from $1 to $100. “We can discount.”

Not to be outdone, locally owned Shaoshan Fengyuan Travel has made solid-gold miniature Mao statues. Inspired by a famous Mao poem about grasping for the moon, the shop donated one to the state to be put aboard a military satellite.

“We can’t sit him with common civilians,” said employee Xiong Zhilong when asked why the statue wasn’t on the Shenzhou 5 rocket that launched China’s first man in space. “Chairman Mao is a military man, not an ordinary person.”

Their investment has been more than recouped, however, by the 40 other statues bought by individuals for $25,000 each.

Flush with that success, the company has a new project that’s a bit more down to Earth. On Dec. 1 it leased the local graveyard and plans to charge for visits to a museum of Mao memorabilia and a sighting of the six family graves, with a gift shop and restaurant in the wings. The company declined to disclose specifics about its 40-year lease, saying only that the total investment will be several million dollars.

“I’ve never heard of another graveyard being leased in China,” Xiong said. “But that said, I can’t be absolutely sure this is the first.”