Sunday, October 6, 2024

A00068 - Song Binbin, Poster Woman for Mao's Bloody Cultural Revolution

 

Song Binbin, Poster Woman for Mao’s Bloody Upheaval, Dies at 77

She was said to have been involved in the first killing of an educator during the Cultural Revolution, drawing official praise. She later apologized for her actions.

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A black and white photo of Mao and a young woman smiling at each other as she places an armband around his sleeve. Behind them a young man films the event with a hand-held camera. Glimpses of a crowd can be seen below.
As a student leader of the militant Red Guards, Song Binbin was selected to pin an armband around the sleeve of Mao Zedong in a ceremony in 1966 in Tiananmen Square in Beijing.Credit...Apic/Getty Images

Song Binbin, a student leader of China’s Red Guards who in 1966 was embroiled in the beating death of her high school principal, one of the most notorious killings of the Cultural Revolution — and who publicly apologized for her actions almost a half-century later — died on Sept. 16. She was 77.

Her death was reported by a brother, Song Kehuang, on the Chinese app WeChat, saying she had died in the United States. He provided no other details.

News of her death set off renewed debate on Chinese social media about the adequacy of Ms. Song’s tearful apology in 2014, as well as the Communist Party’s failure to acknowledge the true toll of the Cultural Revolution, the decade-long rampage that Mao Zedong unleashed in the 1960s, claiming more than one million lives, and that remains a heavily censored topic in China.

A daughter of a prominent general in the People’s Liberation Army, Ms. Song was enrolled at Beijing Normal University Girls High School when she and classmates responded to Mao’s call for young people to turn against intellectuals, educators and others who supposedly held bourgeois values.

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On Aug. 5, 1966, students attacked Bian Zhongyun, a 50-year-old mother of four who headed the school. She was kicked and beaten with sticks spiked with nails. After passing out, she was thrown onto a garbage cart and left to die.

Her death has been widely described as the first killing of a teacher during the Cultural Revolution, a violent spasm establishing Mao’s cult of personality, with masses waving his Little Red Book of his writings.

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In August and September 1966, nearly 1,800 people died in attacks by Red Guards, a militant youth group, and other zealots across Beijing, according to party estimates published in 1980.

Two weeks after Ms. Bian’s death, more than one million young Red Guards thronged Tiananmen Square, where Ms. Song had been selected to pin a red armband around Mao’s left sleeve as they stood atop the towering Gate of Heavenly Peace. A photograph of the moment appeared across the country. Praised by Mao, Ms. Song, at 19, became a kind of celebrity in China.

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A row of five people bow to a bronze statue of a woman.
Ms. Song, center, paid respects to a bust of Bian Zhongyun, the head of a girls high school in Beijing, who was killed by students during the Cultural Revolution. Ms. Song acknowledged responsibility in the murder. Credit...Han Meng

But the whirlwind of the Cultural Revolution soon turned on Ms. Song’s family. Her father, Song Renqiong, was purged from the Communist Party in 1968, and Ms. Song and her mother were put under house arrest. The Cultural Revolution ended only when Mao died in 1976.

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Ms. Song, whose family regained its prominence among China’s elite, traveled to the United States, where she earned a master’s degree in geochemistry from Boston University in 1983 and a Ph.D. from M.I.T. in 1989. She changed her name to Yan Song, married, became a naturalized U.S. citizen and worked for the Massachusetts Department of Environmental Protection.

She moved back to China in 2003.

For many years, Ms. Song kept quiet about her days in Mao’s Red Guard, reflecting the official silence about the period. But given her former prominence, she faced pressure to speak as a trickle of other former Red Guards began apologizing.

On Jan. 12, 2014, Ms. Song visited her old school and expressed remorse, bowing before a statue of Ms. Bian and delivering a 1,500-word speech. “I am responsible for the unfortunate death of Principal Bian,” she said, according to The Beijing News. (Ms. Bian’s title was officially deputy principal, but she was referred to as the principal because she was serving in that role at the time in an acting capacity.)

In 2004, Wang Youqin, a schoolmate of Ms. Song’s who later became a historian at the University of Chicago, published “Victims of the Cultural Revolution,” a book that included a description of the death of Ms. Bian and of Ms. Song’s role in the turmoil at the girls’ high school.

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After Ms. Bian’s death, Ms. Wang wrote, “Every school in China became a torture chamber, prison or even execution ground, and many teachers were persecuted to death.”

Ms. Song denied that she had participated directly in the beating; she said, in fact, that she had tried to stop others who did. But she acknowledged that she and a fellow student were Red Guard leaders and that they were among the first to post so-called big-character posters — publicly displayed signs handwritten in a large format — denouncing teachers.

“The Cultural Revolution at Beijing Normal University Girls’ High School began when I participated in posting the first big-character poster on June 2, 1966,” she told The Beijing News.

Her apology prompted mixed reactions. Some Chinese welcomed her gesture; others said it was inadequate, too late or needed to be accompanied by a true reckoning from the Communist Party.

Some commenters stressed that Ms. Song should bear a greater burden because of her prominence among the Red Guards. “It’s meaningless to say you witnessed a murder and then say you don’t know who the killers were,” said Cui Weiping, a retired professor of literature who writes about China’s past, as quoted by The New York Times in 2014.

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One person who was unsatisfied was Ms. Bian’s widower, Wang Jingyao. He had taken photos of his wife’s battered body after her death as well as of the posters that her tormentors had hung in their apartment after breaking in. One sign threatened to “hack you to pieces,” another to “hold up your pigs’ ears.”

“She is a bad person, because of what she did,” Mr. Wang told The Times in 2014, when he was 93. “She and the others were supported by Mao Zedong. Mao was the source of all evil. He did so much that was bad.”

Song Binbin was born in 1947, one of eight children of Song Renqiong and Zhong Yuelin, according to a family tree published by Bloomberg in 2012. Her father was one of the “eight elders” of the Communist Party who led the country’s economic opening after Mao’s death, acquiring wealth and influence.

Song Renqiong supported the Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping during the violent crackdown of protesters in Tiananmen Square in 1989. Three of his six daughters left China in the 1980s for the United States and became American citizens, according to Bloomberg.

Ms. Song married Jin Jiansheng, who was president of a Massachusetts company. He died in 2011. Her survivors include a son, Yan Jin.

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At the time of her apology, when she was in her mid-60s, Ms. Song said that she had been anticipating it for some time.

“Failure to protect the school leaders is a lifelong pain and regret,” she said.

A00067 - Masamitsu Yoshioka, Last Surviving Pearl Harbor Bombardier

 

Masamitsu Yoshioka, Last Pearl Harbor Bombardier, Dies at 106

He was 23 years old when he took part in the attack that triggered America’s declaration of war against Japan. He rarely spoke publicly about it.

Listen to this article · 6:51 min Learn more
A black and white photo of Masamitsu Yoshioka wearing his pilot's overalls, his goggles atop his head, while posing in front of a small airplane.
Masamitsu Yoshioka in 1941 with a Japanese bomber plane. He is the last known survivor of the roughly 770 crew members who manned the airborne armada that attacked Pearl Harbor.Credit...Yoshioka family photo, via Japan Forward

Masamitsu Yoshioka, the last known survivor among some 770 crew members who manned the Japanese airborne armada that attacked Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, has died. He was 106.

His death was announced on social media on Aug. 28 by the Japanese journalist and author Takashi Hayasaki, who spoke with Mr. Yoshioka last year. He provided no other details.

“When I met him last year, he spoke many valuable words with a dignified presence,” Mr. Hayasaki wrote. “Have Japanese people forgotten something important since the end of the war? What is war? What is peace? What is life? Rest in peace.”

In the almost 80 years since World War II ended, Mr. Yoshioka, who lived in the Adachi ward of Tokyo, said he had visited the Yasukuni Shrine to pray for the souls of his fellow combat veterans, including the 64 Japanese who died during the attack on the American base in Hawaii. Japan lost 29 aircraft and five submarines.

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But Mr. Yoshioka — who as a 23-year-old bombardier dropped a torpedo that, by mistake, sunk the unarmed battleship U.S.S. Utah — rarely spoke publicly about the 15 minutes over Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, which President Franklin D. Roosevelt famously described as a date that will live in infamy.

He explained last year in an interview with Jason Morgan, an associate professor at Reitaku University in Kashiwa, for the English-language website Japan Forward, “I’m ashamed that I’m the only one who survived and lived such a long life.”

Asked in that interview if ever thought of visiting Pearl Harbor, he at first replied, “I wouldn’t know what to say.” He then added: “If I could go, I would like to, I would like to visit the graves of the men who died. I would like to pay them my deepest respect.”

Mr. Yoshioka was lucky — on that and several later occasions. He not only survived the stunning attack on America’s Pacific Fleet in Hawaii and returned safely to the aircraft carrier Soryu; he was also on leave in June 1942 when the vessel was sunk in the Battle of Midway. He served in the Palau Islands but was recuperating from malaria in the Philippines in 1944 before the bloody Battle of Peleliu. And by the time Japanese planes were ordered to make kamikaze attacks on Allied ships in the Pacific, his plane had been grounded by a shortage of spare parts.

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A black and white portrait of Mr. Yoshioka wearing a uniform complete with a cap with Japanese lettering on it while looking directly into the camera.
Masamitsu Yoshioka in 1941. He joined the Imperial Japanese Navy when he was 18.Credit...Yoshioka family photo, via Japan Forwatd

He participated in the attack on Wake Island on Dec. 11, 1941, and a raid in the Indian Ocean early in 1942. (As Professor Morgan put it, he “was involved in many additional campaigns for the liberation of Asia from white colonialism.”) But when Emperor Hirohito announced his nation’s surrender, Mr. Yoshioka was on an air base in Japan.

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After the war, Mr. Yoshioka worked for the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force, which replaced the Imperial Japanese Navy, and for a transport company.

How The Times decides who gets an obituary. There is no formula, scoring system or checklist in determining the news value of a life. We investigate, research and ask around before settling on our subjects. If you know of someone who might be a candidate for a Times obituary, please suggest it here.

Born on Jan. 5, 1918, in Ishikawa Prefecture in western Japan, Mr. Yoshioka joined the Imperial Japanese Navy when he was 18. Information on his survivors was not immediately available.

He worked on ground crews, maintaining old biplanes and other aircraft, until 1938, when he began training as a navigator. A year later, he was posted to the Soryu, which was deployed against the Nationalist Chinese.

In August 1941, the air crewmen were diverted to torpedo training; because of a shortage of weapons, they practiced with dummy wooden canisters filled with water and with only one actual armor-piercing projectile. When the Soryu sailed east from the Kuril Islands archipelago on Nov. 26, 1941, the destination was secret; the crew was told only to pack shorts.

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“I felt honored to be selected for the crucial mission, but I also wanted to return home alive,” he said — a sentiment that, expressed publicly, might have been considered heterodoxy at a time when military personnel were outfitted with pistols so they could kill themselves to avoid capture.

“Some of the men would speculate as to what we were doing,” Mr. Yoshioka recalled. “Who were we training to attack? The gasoline for our airplanes came from the U.S.A. So, many of the men said, ‘There’s no way we can be preparing to attack America.’ Nobody had the slightest notion that that was what was coming.”

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Mr. Yoshioka as an older man holding a flag with Japanese lettering on it. A bookcase and calendar are in the background.
Mr. Yoshioka in 2023, when he was 105. When asked if ever thought of visiting Pearl Harbor, he said: “If I could go, I would like to, I would like to visit the graves of the men who died. I would like to pay them my deepest respect.”Credit...Jason Morgan/Japan Forward

But by early December, negotiations in Washington over a U.S. oil embargo imposed in response to Tokyo’s military incursions in Southeast Asia were proving fruitless. Japanese commanders told the crews sailing east that their target was the American fleet moored at Pearl Harbor.

“When I heard that, the blood rushed out of my head,” Mr. Yoshioka recalled. “I knew that this meant a gigantic war, and that Hawaii would be the place where I would die.”

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He had never taken off from an aircraft carrier before. His plane, weighed down by a torpedo that weighed 1,800 pounds, dropped six feet below the Soryu’s deck before climbing for the 220-mile flight to Pearl Harbor, which took 110 minutes.

When he arrived at the target, shortly before 8 a.m., he could see only two ships in the harbor through the black smoke billowing from the vessels that had already been damaged or destroyed. His pilot flew at one of them, just 35 feet above the water.

“I spotted, out of the corner of my eye, two narrow, white columns of seawater, about two meters in diameter and 30 meters high, exploding up right beside the vessel,” Mr. Yoshioka remembered. “Direct hit!”

Crews had been instructed not to bother with the Utah, a training ship, which had been demilitarized in 1931 under the terms of the London Naval Treaty. Still, 58 crewmen aboard the Utah were killed.

“As we flew over the deck I could see, in a flash going by, gun turrets without any barrels,” Mr. Yoshioka recalled. “A training ship. It was the Utah. A mistake!”

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“Now I think of the men who were on board those ships we torpedoed. I think of the people who died because of me,” Mr. Yoshioka said. “They were young men, just like we were. I am so sorry about it; I hope there will not be any more wars.”

More than 2,400 U.S. military personnel and civilians were killed and nearly 1,800 wounded in the attack that triggered the American declaration of war on Japan. Mr. Yoshioka explained in the Japan Forward interview that as far as he was concerned, his targets were men-of-war, not men.

“We were trained to attack ships,” he said. “The order came down to hit battleships, and we did.

“Nobody ever told us to go out and kill. That was never our mission.”