Shanghai's Longhua
Park:
Buddhas Now Bless the Killing Fields
where Revolutionary Martyrs are Honored
by Lisa Movius, Shanghai Editor
In the "White
Terror" of April 1927, Kuomintang forces under Chiang Kai-shek
systematically moved to exterminate its communist rivals in
Shanghai. During these brutal weeks-the setting of Andre
Malraux's novel Man's Fate-- thousands of communists
and sympathizers were hounded out and killed. In the years to
follow, the Nanjing government continued to pursue Shanghai's
leftist intellectuals, labor organizers, and student
activists. Many were killed on the streets, but most, for the
sake of appearances of public order, were taken to the
execution grounds in the suburb of Longhua.
The Longhua neighborhood, once a town in its own right but
long since swallowed up in the urban sprawl of Shanghai, is
best known for the Longhua Pagoda and the bold yellow Longhua
Temple. In 1990, the Longhua Martyrs Memorial, tracing
Shanghai's revolutionary history, was constructed in the
Longhua Park adjacent to the Temple. The museum, the park, and
the temple, along with the unique atmosphere of the general
environs, combine to make Longhua one of the more pleasant
destinations in Shanghai.
Longhua Park
offers a strange mix of Japanese minimalism and Stalinesque
industro-utopian excess. A gracefully long, tree-lined walkway
leads up to the pyramidal Memorial Hall. At the walkway's end,
flanking the museum's entrance, are two carved marble statues
featuring a montage of proud, heroic, and strangely
European-looking Chinese peasants and revolutionaries. Anyone
who has been to Beijing's Tiananmen Square, Tianjin's
Earthquake Memorial, or People's Park on the Bund knows the
style: Good ol' Socialist Realism. The park abounds with such
statues, some with crowds of children clambering upon them.
Most striking is an enormous torso of a man, half buried in
the earth but with one arm reaching - desperately or
triumphantly - towards the sky. Situated behind the Memorial
and in front of a hill of honorary graves, he provides the
backdrop for an ever-burning memorial fire. The park also
houses a pond and unusually healthy-looking expanses of
picnic-perfect lawn, interspersed by clusters of trees. The
park also contains some of Shanghai's more unusual shrubbery.
In order to conceal a row of old buildings in back of the
temple deemed for some reason unsightly, a huge white wall was
erected and painted with neon green trees.
The Martyrs
Memorial itself is a surprisingly professional and
comprehensive museum, thankfully free of the macabre wax
figures and tacky kitsch common to many Chinese museums. The
design is reminiscent of the World War II Memorial at the
Marco Polo Bridge near Beijing, but the exhibitions are more
clear, more concise, and, amazingly, less ideological. The
museum's displays cover the whole of modern Chinese history,
from first Opium War to the present time, and include
artifacts from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, the Small Swords
Society (which took over Shanghai in support of the Taiping
forces), the Republican Period, the Civil War, the Korean War,
border skirmishes with Vietnam, and even children's textbooks
from the 1980s. The Cultural Revolution era is conspicuously
absent.
The overwhelming majority of the museum, however, is
dedicated to the leftists who were executed at Longhua in the
1920s and '30s. Wall upon wall, room upon room of face after
face after face: Pictures of Shanghai's early radicals,
summaries of their stories, a few letters and personal
effects. Some English is provided, albeit woefully inadequate;
for each chronicled individual, only name, hometown and
occupation are provided. Missing are translations of the
Chinese inscriptions: "Died, 1928, Longhua." "Died, 1931,
Longhua." "Died, 1929, Longhua..."
One prominent display proclaims in English only "woolen
vest." One must notice the bullet holes, the brown-red stains,
and study the accompanying pictures to realize its was worn by
one young woman who was executed en masse with some fifteen
other leftists. The museum is not as morbid as it may seem; in
fact, it presents a refreshing contrast to the more commonly
displayed image of Old Shanghai. Along with the rich
foreigners and singsong girls, the city was also home to young
intellectuals who braved hardships and a very real threat of
death to fight for their ideals. One must wonder what China
would be like today if these urban leftists instead of the
peasant warriors had prevailed in the struggle to determine
the direction of the Communist Party.
While these
histories and individuals are very well known in China, a
foreigner would have to hold a Ph.D. in Chinese revolutionary
history to fully appreciate the museum and not be overwhelmed
by the sea of faces. The adjacent temple is more accessible to
the casual sightseer. Shanghai's oldest and largest temple is
also the coolest, with a vibe of the ancient rarely found in
this city. While the guidebooks tend to contradict each other,
the most standard version holds that the temple was built
during the Three Kingdoms period (3rd Century AD), while the
pagoda dates back to the Song Dynasty.
Longhua Temple contains the usual collection of
gold-crusted Buddhas and minor deities. Like most Chinese
temples, the bodhisattva Guanyin, the combined patron saint
and Virgin Mary of Chinese Buddhism, predominates. In a few
large rooms, she is surrounded by the heavenly hosts of her
attendants, smaller statues in a sea of rolling wave-like
clouds. The Longhua Temple is Shanghai's only fully
functioning temple and monastery, and robed monks of a range
of ages almost outnumber the tourists. Fitting for the
location, the temple is where all religious funerals are held.
The walls of one huge room are lined with memorial cards for
and pictures of the recently deceased, many with bowls of
food, flowers, and plastic fruit placed in front as offerings.
A crematorium is located somewhere nearby. Rhythmic chanting
issues forth from a number of small rooms as seven monks at a
table issue services and prayers for the dead as family
members sit solemnly in an adjoining room.
Many Shanghainese make pilgrimages to Longhua to honor the
dead and offer supplications to Buddha. That many of them are
requesting wealth, better jobs, and male children detracts
only somewhat from the sense of spirituality. The air hangs
thick with incense, and one can peer through a window to
observe half a dozen artisans crafting Buddhists statues out
of plaster and clay, surrounded by hundreds of their
now-drying previous creations. A small cafeteria inside the
temple allows one to sample the monks' usual fare of
vegetarian noodle fare, delicious if a little oily.
The temple's
entry gate is impressively beautiful in its own right, despite
being swamped by a crowd of disfigured beggars hoping to take
advantage not so much of intimidated tourists as of the
visitors' lapses of pious charity. The Pagoda across from the
gate is less impressive than its pictures and descriptions
would suggest. For all its seven stories, it's rather puny,
and leans a little to one side. Its charm lies rather in the
ornate details of its octagonal design, particularly the sharp
upturn of the eaves, on which hang countless small bells.
The Longhua neighborhood predates modern Shanghai by many
centuries, and its aura is distinctly different. Visitors and
residents alike are struck with a sober calm inspired by the
peace and simplicity of the place. Newer buildings attempt to
harmonize with the old. In Beijing, all new constructions are
topped, rather awkwardly, with traditional Chinese "hats" on
the rooftops. Longhua pursues the same policy, but while
Beijing's buildings sport Ming Dynasty "hats" - sloping,
four-cornered things, the Longhua "hats" are distinctly Song
Dynasty. It somehow adds a comical edge to the otherwise
dignified locale.
Longhua Temple is located in southwestern Shanghai at
2853 Longhua Xi Lu. Take the subway to the Shanghai Stadium or
Caobao Lu stop and then proceed by bus or taxi.