I gave my mind such an
explanation
because I could not endure the pain.
Lifton-Robert-Jay-Thought-Reform-and-the-Psychology-of-Totalism
When I feel safe I am on one side.
When I have the feeling I am not safe, right away I jump on the other side.
In his constant testing of his new environment, he began to call into question many of the teachings of his thought reform:
When I arrived in Hong Kong, another foreigner coming out of China put me in this difficult position. He told me about the situation in North China--that it was impossible to get meat there, and that there is rationing because everything is going to the Soviet Union. I said--"Impossible! A foreigner likes to exaggerate"--because we never heard about this rationing in jail. I said, "How can it be possible that the Soviet Union needs food from China when they are making such progress? " . . . . In prison we saw their food lists--butter, meat, what- ever they like--but now 1 hear that food is not enough in the Soviet Union. I ask myself, "Where is the truth? "
He found that what he was experiencing more and more came into conflict with his reform, and he felt that this reality-testingwas beneficial to him:
They say there is no progress in my country. But I was surprised to see a new steamer from there here in the harbor. I hear that it is an air- conditioned steamer, built since the war. I thought then that my coun- try is not a colony of America--they can have a steamer line come to Hong Kong. I started little by little to come to reality--bit by bit to make comparison of what they told me. The reality is quite good for me. I am thinking that if a school partner [cellmate] could have the possibility of seeing what I have seen in eight days--what could he be- lieve of his re-education? . . . .
? RE-EDUCATION: DR. VINCENT 35
And similarly when he read in an American magazine about im- mense new railroad machinery developed in the United States, he questioned the precepts that "the imperialists are interested in only light industry--to exploit the people" and that "Soviet heavy in- dustry is leading everybody. " He commented:
When I saw these, I thought that the Communists were cheating m e - dicating everybody.
Midway through the series of interviews, he began to feel rest- less, neglected, and increasingly hostile to his new surroundings. He reversed the previous trend, and again became suspicious of ul- terior motives in his new environment:
Everyday I read the Hong Kong paper I see children are receiving milk and eggs through the help of America. . . , But in prison they are all the time saying that the American imperialists are giving things to peo- ple in order to cover up--to show that they take an interest I see this as a political point--a feeling I have which is strictly connected with re-education.
He became markedly critical of what he saw around him, and more favorable in his references to his prison experience--looking back upon it almost longingly.
Since coming out, arguments and conversation are terribly uninterest- ing. There are no concrete things. Time is very superficial--people don't solve any problems. They are just going on--spending four hours for nothing--between one drink and another smoke and wait for to- morrow. In re-education we solved every problem . . . . we were given texts to use and had to read them--then new discussions until the mo- ment when there were no more problems. . . . I went to a film last night. I was disturbed by it. Disturbed because it wasn't an educational film--it was just a lot of shooting and violence. I was thinking how much more comforting to have an education film as in the prison-- never a film like this there. So brutal--so much fighting and killing. . * .
When we came out of the movie, a Chinese child touched the hand- book of a Western lady who was with us. She was very disturbed and kicked the child. I thought, "Why violence, why not just explain to the child that he shouldn't do it? " This has a connection with re-education --because all of the time they told us that relations in society should be on a logical basis, not on a forced basis.
He expressed the loneliness of his new freedom:
? 36 THOUGHT REFORM
There is this kind of freedom here--if you want to do something, you can do it. But there is not the collective way of progress--just an in- dividual way of going on. Nobody pays any attention to you and your surroundings.
Referring back to his prison experience, he said: It is not that I miss it, but I find that it was more easy.
At this time he also began to feel that I was "exploiting" him for my own professional gain; he "confessed" these feelings to me:
I had a very bad thought about you. I thought that Americans are all the same--when they have need of you they use you, and after that you are a forgotten man.
But during the last two interviews, he became more cheerful and optimistic, more concerned about arrangements for his future. He was now more definite in his conviction that the Communists had wronged him cruelly throughout his imprisonment.
His views on Communist methods became more sharply critical, and more interpretive.
My impression is that they are cruel and that there is no freedom. There is compulsion in everything, using Marxism and Leninism in order to promise to the ignorant a bright future. . . . I was really ac- cepting things in order to make myself more comfortable--because I was in great fear. . . . In this situation your willpower completely dis- appears. . . . Y ou accept because there is a compulsion all the time-- that if you don't go on their road, there is no escape. . . . To avoid argument you become passive. * . .
He described his post-imprisonment change of heart toward his former captors--from toleration to condemnation:
My first few days out I recognized that they were cruel with us--but not in a strong way. There was a religious belief playing on me: if some- one does bad to you, don't keep your hate; and another feeling--what I pass through there would be useful for me in the next life. I looked upon it as bad versus good, and I felt I suffered for something. . . . Now my resentment is stronger than it was the first few days. I have the feeling that if I meet a Communist in my country, my first reaction toward him will be violent.
? RE-EDUCATION: DR. VINCENT 37
Before leaving for Europe, he began to seek contacts and letters of introduction which he felt could help him in the future. He again wished to do medical work in an underdeveloped Asian setting, but he noted a significant change in the type of position which he sought:
Before I would never accept a nine-to-five job, because it means that you are busy all the time with no time to do what you want. Now--it is very strange--I would like to have such an engagement. I have the feel- ing that with this kind of job, everything is easy. I don't have to think of what happens at the end of the month. It would give me security, a definite feeling for the future because I have nothing definite in the future.
But Dr. Vincent knew himself well enough to recognize that this quest for regularity and security would not last.
This is not one hundred per cent of my feeling. . , . You see the con- tradiction--I am just out from the door of the cell--only one step out. But if I take some more steps--and consider what is best for my char- acter--perhaps I will again decide to be by myself. . . . In a Com- munist country everybody does the same thing--and you accept. Here it is different: you are still the master of yourself.
He felt that the most significant change which he had undergone as a result of his reform was his increased willingness to "open my- self to others. " And in regard to our talks together, he said:
This is the first time a foreigner knows my character. I believe this comes through re-education--because we were instructed to know our internal selves. . . . I have never talked so frankly. I have a feeling I left part of myself in Hong Kong.
More will be said about Dr. Vincent later on, including his back- ground and character; but first I will return to the prison thought reform process, and to the different inner experience of a man of another calling.
? CHAPTER 4 FATHER LUCA:
THE FALSE CONFESSION
I met Father Francis Luca in a Catholic hospital in
Hong Kong, where he was convalescing from the physical and emotional blows of three-and-one-half years of im- prisonment. He had spent ten years in China, and had just arrived in the colony a few days before; my visit had been arranged by an- other priest whom we both knew. Father Luca's appearance was rather striking. An Italian in his late thirties, his eyes looked alert and searching, with little of the fear and distance I had seen in Dr. Vincent's eyes. But he had a restless, almost driven, quality which made it difficult for him, despite a partial physical incapacity caused by his imprisonment, to remain seated in his chair. He was inter- ested in and curious about everything--about me, about the hos- pital, and especially about the significance of his prison experience. One of the first things he told me was that immediately upon board- ing the British ship which took him from China to Hong Kong, he had begun writing down all he could remember of his ordeal so that he could record it "before seeing others/'
But he too had questions to ask of me: Was I Catholic? And, was I an American? My "no" to the first and "yes" to the second did not seem to trouble him, or to interfere with the ready flow
of his words.
Still a little confused during our first talk, he jumped quickly from
38
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 39
subject to subject; yet one theme kept recurring. It was not that of the pain or humiliation of his prison experience, but rather his sadness at leaving China. He told me that he had cried bitterly upon boarding the ship, deeply disturbed at the thought that he would never have the chance to return. As he spoke, I noticed that the black robe he was wearing was not clerical garb, but the robe of a Chinese scholar. There were chopsticks on his eating table, and the only complaint among his otherwise grateful remarks about the hospital was the difficulty he had in obtaining good Chinese food, which was the only food he cared to eat. And when another European priest paid a brief visit to the room, Father Luca chatted happily with him--in Chinese. Whatever the success or failure of Father Luca's political reform, he had clearly become a convert to Chinese life.
During the month which he spent in the hospital, I paid him fourteen visits, spending a total of about twenty-five hours with him. Throughout, we were engaged in a common quest for under- standing, and he spoke openly and at great length about the details of his imprisonment and of his life before that.
Father Luca's arrest had not come as a complete surprise, as he had heard that accusations of "subversion" and "anti-Communist activities" had been made against him at public meetings. He had promised himself that, if imprisoned, he would defend the Church and say nothing false. His initial response to interrogation was, therefore, one of forthright defiance. When the judge asked him whether he knew why he had been arrested, he replied, "It must be either due to a misunderstanding or else it is a matter of religion. " This angered the judge, who insisted, "There is no matter of re- ligion. We have freedom of religion in China, It is because you op- posed the interests of the people. " During subsequent questions about his activities and associations in China, Father Luca noticed that his interrogator began to dwell particularly upon his relation- ship with another priest, Father C? a friend of his whose political and military activities against the Communists Father Luca had himself criticized.
This first interrogation lasted for just one hour, but it served to orient Father Luca for his later confession:
In my mind I had the question, "What will they accuse me of? How will they do it? " Now I began to understand--they would put
? 40 THOUGHT REFORM
the question of my relationship with Father C as the important thing. It was good to understand this, but I was not sure how they would go about it. I had heard that the Communists made people confess to all kinds of fantastic charges. But I was then determined not to admit to anything that wasn't true.
He was equally defiant in the cell, penetrating and critical in his observations of his captors. When the cell chief advised him that he would be quickly released if he would "say all you have done/' he skeptically replied: "But I have heard that you have been here for six months. Since you must have confessed all of your deeds, how is it that you are still here? " And when he witnessed his first struggle (against another prisoner)--during which the cell chief urged everyone to "help" the man under fire--he thought to him- self: "So this is the way of the Communists--using good words to do bad things: to help means to maltreat people. "
He was awakened from his sleep on the second night and inter- rogated about Father C's assistants. He was able to tell the Chris- tian name of one, but stated that he did not know the other. The judge heatedly insisted: "It is impossible that you do not know him. You are not being honest or sincere. " Father Luca bridled at this impugning of his integrity, angrily insisting that he was being sin- cere, and was telling the entire truth. The judge's immediate re- sponse was to order chains with twenty-pound weights placed around Father Luca's ankles. He then asked the prisoner the same ques- tion, and again received a similar reply. Luca was dismissed and sent back to his cell; there the cell chief, upon seeing the chains, severely castigated him. When called back less than an hour later, his answers still failed to satisfy, and handcuffs were placed about his wrists.
During the third night's interrogation, the judge emphasized the closeness of Father Luca's relationship with Father C, strongly im- plying that he must have known him before coming to China. When Luca insisted that they had first met in Peking, the judge left the room and Luca was required to sit on the ground with his legs, in chains, stretched out. Unable to maintain this position, he would lean backward; his weight would then fall on his wrists, which were shackled behind his back. Finding the pain of the handcuffs digging into his skin and the general discomfort of his position to
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 41 be unbearable, thoughts of surrender and compromise came to him
for the first time:
It is as I have been told. They will have their false confession. But I don't want to make a false confession. Maybe there is a way to say something that is not totally untrue to satisfy them--but what? . . . . I've said the truth. They don't want the truth. I've only one way to escape: to guess what they really want. With all the circumstances of my life, the most believable thing was that in going back to Europe it waspossible to meet him . . . not true, but believable.
He replied that they had met in Europe after the war. The judge was still displeased. And at that point, an assistant passed some- thing to the judge which to Father Luca looked like a photograph.
I thought, "Certainly this can't be a photograph of Father C and my- self taken outside of China. It must be the photograph I made with Chinese priests in Rome in 1939 [he had really posed for such a pic- ture]. They must be using this photograph as proof that I had seen Father C there. " I don't know how I came to think this.
I gave my mind such an explanation because I could not endure the pain. I was coming to the conclusion that they wanted me to say I had seen him in Rome. I thought it might be according to a story which they wanted to put out that Father C was doing espionage work under directions from the Vatican. I knew that this was their line from their propaganda.
So, in answer to the judge's original question about their meet- ing, Father Luca said: "It was in Rome, in 1939. " He was im- mediately permitted to stand up, experiencing direct relief of the pain, and a few minutes later was taken back to his cell.
The Labyrinth
But the cell chief, acting upon instructions from above, still denounced Luca as not "sincere," and ordered that he remain con- tinuously standing, in order for him to "meditate" on his "crimes. " And for the next month--a harrowing maze of nightly interrogations and daily struggles--he was kept constantly awake, his cellmates alternating in their "night duty," pinching, slapping, and poking him to make sure that he did not sleep. Because he was forced to maintain a standing position, his legs became swollen and distended
? 42 THOUGHT REFORM
with fluid. He remembers being permitted to sleep on only three occasions: once when he fainted, another time when he became so confused that he could not follow the interrogation, and a third time when interrogations were postponed because of a heavy storm. He estimates that he slept for a total of only sixteen hours during this entire four-week period. He became increasingly confused, and could no longer tell night from day; he found himself constantly straining his faculties in his attempts to understand just what it was he was expected to say:
At the beginning it was only a question of curiosity, but afterwards, when I couldn't endure it and my mind was confused, I thought, "Why don't they say exactly what they want me to say? It is so difficult to get at what they want. " After two weeks I would say almost anything they wanted me to say . . . but of course not easily.
In this state, he "confessed" to three major "crimes": use of a concealed radio set to send and receive "espionage" information; organization of a ring of young boys for the purpose of conducting sabotage and writing anti-Communist publications (the public ac- cusation made prior to his imprisonment); and the active participa- tion--as "secretary"--in an "espionage organization" allegedly headed by Father C. All three of these "admissions" were false, built up through half-truths and fabrications.
Father Luca's description of the step-by-step development of these "espionage" themes so graphically reveals the unfolding of his false confession--and his developing belief in some of his own false- hoods--that I have allowed him to speak here at some length. As he told me about the first of these, the concealed radio theme, I was impressed by the complexities of the tortuous process involved:
The first thing about the radio came when the interrogator said: "You have other things which you don't speak about, but you can be sure that the people know them. Don't think that we're not informed. " I said that I knew there were some people who said I had a special radio --a short wave set. 1 had heard this accusation before I had been arrested. I told him there was nothing true about it. He said, "You say so, but what is the reality? What have you put in your storeroom immediately after the liberation? "
I said that I had put nothing there. Then I thought, "Maybe there is something--not a radio--but there was a friend of mine who visited me before the Communists came--and entrusted me with some of his things. " I tried to think whether I had put some of his things in the
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 43
storeroom. My mind was not so strong. I said, "Yes--there may be some things that I didn't remember. " I also knew that there was a boy who had worked for us who had turned against us and could have reported anything we stored. So, although I did not think there was a radio there, I dared not oppose what the judge said. He said, "Was it a receiver or a sender? " He said it first because I hadn't known the Chinese word for receiver and sender. At first I said that it wasn't either. Then I said, "Maybe a receiver--yes--perhaps a sender. " There was a moment when I had the visualization of an actual sender--but I knew best, it was not true. Like sometimes when you are half dream- ing and youseesomething. . . .
Afterwards, when they asked me how it had come into my hands, I also had to tell a story about this. I said that my friend went away and left it for me, and that a servant had helped me to dismantle it. Then the judge said, "You must have been helped by people who understood electricity. " . . . Then I brought in two more men, an electrician who worked in the cathedral, and a young boy who liked to tinker with electrical gadgets. . . . The next part also came out logically from what I had said before. I thought if somebody would have a radio the worst place to keep it would be in the cathedral, because it was known that the Communists especially watched churches and frequently made accusations that there were radio senders there. So I said I had put it some other place. At first I said I couldn't remember the street name. When they insisted, I gave them the name: "Ironwall Street. " I made it up. When the judge told me the following day that he couldn't find the street on the map, I told him that perhaps I couldn't remember it correctly. . . .
Then I imagined rather clearly a street with a house, a front room, and behind the front room a radio sender. I had a clear imaginationof all this without knowing whether it was true. . . . It was like what I have heard about writing a novel--imagining people who act in a certain way--landscapes and circumstances. For writers, it is very vivid --like the real thing--but of course they know that it is not the real thing. W ith me it was really vivid--yet not having totally lost the idea that it wasuntrue. . . . I rather tried to have something logical. . . . In the cell, the other prisoners made suggestions and it developed that I didn't only send messages but also received information. . . . . So, little by little, it became not only once but many times, with many other people--and also connected with other priests. . . . It became a whole organization. . . . To some extent I visualized the spy organiza- tion. I also invented names and many other details.
The second theme, about the subversive ring of small boys, in- cluded a personal confrontation:
After one week the judge interrogated me about a certain Chinese boy. I told him the truth, that the name was not familiar to me. Then he
? 44 THOUGHT REFORM
confronted me with the boy in person, and I told him again that I did not know him. But the boy said he knew me, and also that I had told him to write anti-Communist pamphlets. I snowed some hesitation, as I had contact with a thousand boys as a parish priest.
The judge said I was not sincere--put the handcuffs on me again-- and again made me sit in that extremely painful position until I con- fessed that I knew the boy. From this kind of interrogation, and from the suggestions which were made in the cell, gradually the confession built up, . . . I knew that I had been accused of instigating a boy to write anti-Communist slogans and to throw stones at street lights. . , . Many of the more concrete suggestions came from the cell. The chief would say, "You have already said you have done this, you must have done more. There must have been more boys. " Finally a con- fession somehow developed in which I said there had been twenty-five boys in this organization whose purpose was conducting sabotage and writing anti-Communist publications.
The third, Father C s organization, involved pressures from cell- mates, developing the points which Father Luca had already "admitted" during the interrogations.
They said, "Well, you certainly did something for Father C. " I said, "No, that would have been impossible. I had just come to China. I didn't know the situation. I didn't know Chinese. " They said, "You didn't know Chinese, but you do know foreign languages. " I admitted that I did. And so somehow the suggestion came out that, since I had to be doing something for him, maybe it was writing, some kind of clerical work. This seemed to be the only thing I could do for him. So it came to be like a conviction that not only I could do this, but that I had done this. . . . 1 remembered that Father C had once men- tioned an uncle of his and an old lady he knew, both in Switzerland. So I mixed this thing I heard from him with the suggestion I had written letters for him. And so I said I had written letters to that uncle and old lady in Switzerland.
They said, "You say you have not participated in his organization. Now you say you have written letters for him. That is a connection in his organization. Now what was your title? A man who writes letters like this for an organization--what is he called? What is his title? ". . . . They didn't say exactly, but the meaning was very clear. I made the reply, "Secretary. " After that I knew I must accept the title of Secretary. . . . I did not really believe I had been a secretary but rny mind was confused, and I felt it was impossible to refute their [cell- mates] arguments. I did develop the conviction that I had written two or three letters. It came little by little. . . . It is impossible to say exactly how these ideas first developed.
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 45
Father Luca's false visualizations (or illusions) varied in dura- tion from a fleeting moment to a period of a few weeks or months, merging into a dream-like state in which
I was mixed up between real and imaginary things and persons. I was no longer able to distinguish what was real and what was imaginary. . . . I had the notion that many things were imaginary, but I was not sure. I could not say, "This is real," or "This is not real. "
This inability to distinguish the real from the unreal extended beyond his immediate confession material. Once, just after he had fainted,
I had the idea that I was no longer in prison. I had been put in a small house outside the cathedral. People were going about outside--chiefly Christians. I heard voices and recognized some of them.
But this delusion was by no means completely removed from the confession, because in it he "came out into the garden" and saw two men, remembering the name of one of them but not of the other. And this he related to his interrogators' demands that he name "secret agents" (Chinese assistants to foreign priests), and his in- ability to remember the name of one of them in particular. The next day he questioned whether all of this had really happened, as it had become to him "half-dream, half-real. " He had two additional delusions which also contained fantasies of rescue, but were more elaborate--and more lasting:
I had the idea that in the cell next to mine was a priest whom I knew very well before. He had also been badly mistreated. One day in bright daylight somebody came into his cell and said to him, "You have talked very well. Your affair is very simple and it is now finished. We see that you are not so bad. W e'll take you out this afternoon for a trip to the summer palace [in Peking]. After that we will release you. "
Then I heard this priest go out with a sigh, and while he was walking past my cell, he spoke in Latin--saying the beginning words of the Mass--"I shall come unto the altar of God. " . . . I thought, "Maybe he is saying that because in coming out of jail he is glad that tomorrow he can say Mass. Or maybe he is offering the pain and the suffering experienced to God. " . . . I remember that at that moment I coughed to let him know I was there.
? 46 THOUGHT REFORM
So convinced was he that this episode really occurred that one year later, during a special movement for the exposure of all "bad behavior/' he "confessed" to having coughed on this occasion to attract the attention of his fellow priest. It was only when he ar- rived in Hong Kong after his release, and was told that this other priest had never been arrested, that he gave up his belief in this incident. And the same was true of another rather similar episode:
Another time, in bright daylight, I had the impression I heard a European consul speaking--visiting the prison with a group of people. They went to visit another cell--someone else. On their way out, he said, "I have heard that Father Luca was also here. " There was no answer from the prison official. He was just before my cell at that mo- ment--so again I coughed--but the officer led him away. I heard him talking in the courtyard and I coughed again to let him know I was there. But nothing happened. . . . Here in Hong Kong I asked the officials of my government whether a consul ever visited the prison. They said no, and that it certainly couldn't be true.
These delusions were also related to his confession material and to a sense of guilt which was building up within him.
In his constant testing of his new environment, he began to call into question many of the teachings of his thought reform:
When I arrived in Hong Kong, another foreigner coming out of China put me in this difficult position. He told me about the situation in North China--that it was impossible to get meat there, and that there is rationing because everything is going to the Soviet Union. I said--"Impossible! A foreigner likes to exaggerate"--because we never heard about this rationing in jail. I said, "How can it be possible that the Soviet Union needs food from China when they are making such progress? " . . . . In prison we saw their food lists--butter, meat, what- ever they like--but now 1 hear that food is not enough in the Soviet Union. I ask myself, "Where is the truth? "
He found that what he was experiencing more and more came into conflict with his reform, and he felt that this reality-testingwas beneficial to him:
They say there is no progress in my country. But I was surprised to see a new steamer from there here in the harbor. I hear that it is an air- conditioned steamer, built since the war. I thought then that my coun- try is not a colony of America--they can have a steamer line come to Hong Kong. I started little by little to come to reality--bit by bit to make comparison of what they told me. The reality is quite good for me. I am thinking that if a school partner [cellmate] could have the possibility of seeing what I have seen in eight days--what could he be- lieve of his re-education? . . . .
? RE-EDUCATION: DR. VINCENT 35
And similarly when he read in an American magazine about im- mense new railroad machinery developed in the United States, he questioned the precepts that "the imperialists are interested in only light industry--to exploit the people" and that "Soviet heavy in- dustry is leading everybody. " He commented:
When I saw these, I thought that the Communists were cheating m e - dicating everybody.
Midway through the series of interviews, he began to feel rest- less, neglected, and increasingly hostile to his new surroundings. He reversed the previous trend, and again became suspicious of ul- terior motives in his new environment:
Everyday I read the Hong Kong paper I see children are receiving milk and eggs through the help of America. . . , But in prison they are all the time saying that the American imperialists are giving things to peo- ple in order to cover up--to show that they take an interest I see this as a political point--a feeling I have which is strictly connected with re-education.
He became markedly critical of what he saw around him, and more favorable in his references to his prison experience--looking back upon it almost longingly.
Since coming out, arguments and conversation are terribly uninterest- ing. There are no concrete things. Time is very superficial--people don't solve any problems. They are just going on--spending four hours for nothing--between one drink and another smoke and wait for to- morrow. In re-education we solved every problem . . . . we were given texts to use and had to read them--then new discussions until the mo- ment when there were no more problems. . . . I went to a film last night. I was disturbed by it. Disturbed because it wasn't an educational film--it was just a lot of shooting and violence. I was thinking how much more comforting to have an education film as in the prison-- never a film like this there. So brutal--so much fighting and killing. . * .
When we came out of the movie, a Chinese child touched the hand- book of a Western lady who was with us. She was very disturbed and kicked the child. I thought, "Why violence, why not just explain to the child that he shouldn't do it? " This has a connection with re-education --because all of the time they told us that relations in society should be on a logical basis, not on a forced basis.
He expressed the loneliness of his new freedom:
? 36 THOUGHT REFORM
There is this kind of freedom here--if you want to do something, you can do it. But there is not the collective way of progress--just an in- dividual way of going on. Nobody pays any attention to you and your surroundings.
Referring back to his prison experience, he said: It is not that I miss it, but I find that it was more easy.
At this time he also began to feel that I was "exploiting" him for my own professional gain; he "confessed" these feelings to me:
I had a very bad thought about you. I thought that Americans are all the same--when they have need of you they use you, and after that you are a forgotten man.
But during the last two interviews, he became more cheerful and optimistic, more concerned about arrangements for his future. He was now more definite in his conviction that the Communists had wronged him cruelly throughout his imprisonment.
His views on Communist methods became more sharply critical, and more interpretive.
My impression is that they are cruel and that there is no freedom. There is compulsion in everything, using Marxism and Leninism in order to promise to the ignorant a bright future. . . . I was really ac- cepting things in order to make myself more comfortable--because I was in great fear. . . . In this situation your willpower completely dis- appears. . . . Y ou accept because there is a compulsion all the time-- that if you don't go on their road, there is no escape. . . . To avoid argument you become passive. * . .
He described his post-imprisonment change of heart toward his former captors--from toleration to condemnation:
My first few days out I recognized that they were cruel with us--but not in a strong way. There was a religious belief playing on me: if some- one does bad to you, don't keep your hate; and another feeling--what I pass through there would be useful for me in the next life. I looked upon it as bad versus good, and I felt I suffered for something. . . . Now my resentment is stronger than it was the first few days. I have the feeling that if I meet a Communist in my country, my first reaction toward him will be violent.
? RE-EDUCATION: DR. VINCENT 37
Before leaving for Europe, he began to seek contacts and letters of introduction which he felt could help him in the future. He again wished to do medical work in an underdeveloped Asian setting, but he noted a significant change in the type of position which he sought:
Before I would never accept a nine-to-five job, because it means that you are busy all the time with no time to do what you want. Now--it is very strange--I would like to have such an engagement. I have the feel- ing that with this kind of job, everything is easy. I don't have to think of what happens at the end of the month. It would give me security, a definite feeling for the future because I have nothing definite in the future.
But Dr. Vincent knew himself well enough to recognize that this quest for regularity and security would not last.
This is not one hundred per cent of my feeling. . , . You see the con- tradiction--I am just out from the door of the cell--only one step out. But if I take some more steps--and consider what is best for my char- acter--perhaps I will again decide to be by myself. . . . In a Com- munist country everybody does the same thing--and you accept. Here it is different: you are still the master of yourself.
He felt that the most significant change which he had undergone as a result of his reform was his increased willingness to "open my- self to others. " And in regard to our talks together, he said:
This is the first time a foreigner knows my character. I believe this comes through re-education--because we were instructed to know our internal selves. . . . I have never talked so frankly. I have a feeling I left part of myself in Hong Kong.
More will be said about Dr. Vincent later on, including his back- ground and character; but first I will return to the prison thought reform process, and to the different inner experience of a man of another calling.
? CHAPTER 4 FATHER LUCA:
THE FALSE CONFESSION
I met Father Francis Luca in a Catholic hospital in
Hong Kong, where he was convalescing from the physical and emotional blows of three-and-one-half years of im- prisonment. He had spent ten years in China, and had just arrived in the colony a few days before; my visit had been arranged by an- other priest whom we both knew. Father Luca's appearance was rather striking. An Italian in his late thirties, his eyes looked alert and searching, with little of the fear and distance I had seen in Dr. Vincent's eyes. But he had a restless, almost driven, quality which made it difficult for him, despite a partial physical incapacity caused by his imprisonment, to remain seated in his chair. He was inter- ested in and curious about everything--about me, about the hos- pital, and especially about the significance of his prison experience. One of the first things he told me was that immediately upon board- ing the British ship which took him from China to Hong Kong, he had begun writing down all he could remember of his ordeal so that he could record it "before seeing others/'
But he too had questions to ask of me: Was I Catholic? And, was I an American? My "no" to the first and "yes" to the second did not seem to trouble him, or to interfere with the ready flow
of his words.
Still a little confused during our first talk, he jumped quickly from
38
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 39
subject to subject; yet one theme kept recurring. It was not that of the pain or humiliation of his prison experience, but rather his sadness at leaving China. He told me that he had cried bitterly upon boarding the ship, deeply disturbed at the thought that he would never have the chance to return. As he spoke, I noticed that the black robe he was wearing was not clerical garb, but the robe of a Chinese scholar. There were chopsticks on his eating table, and the only complaint among his otherwise grateful remarks about the hospital was the difficulty he had in obtaining good Chinese food, which was the only food he cared to eat. And when another European priest paid a brief visit to the room, Father Luca chatted happily with him--in Chinese. Whatever the success or failure of Father Luca's political reform, he had clearly become a convert to Chinese life.
During the month which he spent in the hospital, I paid him fourteen visits, spending a total of about twenty-five hours with him. Throughout, we were engaged in a common quest for under- standing, and he spoke openly and at great length about the details of his imprisonment and of his life before that.
Father Luca's arrest had not come as a complete surprise, as he had heard that accusations of "subversion" and "anti-Communist activities" had been made against him at public meetings. He had promised himself that, if imprisoned, he would defend the Church and say nothing false. His initial response to interrogation was, therefore, one of forthright defiance. When the judge asked him whether he knew why he had been arrested, he replied, "It must be either due to a misunderstanding or else it is a matter of religion. " This angered the judge, who insisted, "There is no matter of re- ligion. We have freedom of religion in China, It is because you op- posed the interests of the people. " During subsequent questions about his activities and associations in China, Father Luca noticed that his interrogator began to dwell particularly upon his relation- ship with another priest, Father C? a friend of his whose political and military activities against the Communists Father Luca had himself criticized.
This first interrogation lasted for just one hour, but it served to orient Father Luca for his later confession:
In my mind I had the question, "What will they accuse me of? How will they do it? " Now I began to understand--they would put
? 40 THOUGHT REFORM
the question of my relationship with Father C as the important thing. It was good to understand this, but I was not sure how they would go about it. I had heard that the Communists made people confess to all kinds of fantastic charges. But I was then determined not to admit to anything that wasn't true.
He was equally defiant in the cell, penetrating and critical in his observations of his captors. When the cell chief advised him that he would be quickly released if he would "say all you have done/' he skeptically replied: "But I have heard that you have been here for six months. Since you must have confessed all of your deeds, how is it that you are still here? " And when he witnessed his first struggle (against another prisoner)--during which the cell chief urged everyone to "help" the man under fire--he thought to him- self: "So this is the way of the Communists--using good words to do bad things: to help means to maltreat people. "
He was awakened from his sleep on the second night and inter- rogated about Father C's assistants. He was able to tell the Chris- tian name of one, but stated that he did not know the other. The judge heatedly insisted: "It is impossible that you do not know him. You are not being honest or sincere. " Father Luca bridled at this impugning of his integrity, angrily insisting that he was being sin- cere, and was telling the entire truth. The judge's immediate re- sponse was to order chains with twenty-pound weights placed around Father Luca's ankles. He then asked the prisoner the same ques- tion, and again received a similar reply. Luca was dismissed and sent back to his cell; there the cell chief, upon seeing the chains, severely castigated him. When called back less than an hour later, his answers still failed to satisfy, and handcuffs were placed about his wrists.
During the third night's interrogation, the judge emphasized the closeness of Father Luca's relationship with Father C, strongly im- plying that he must have known him before coming to China. When Luca insisted that they had first met in Peking, the judge left the room and Luca was required to sit on the ground with his legs, in chains, stretched out. Unable to maintain this position, he would lean backward; his weight would then fall on his wrists, which were shackled behind his back. Finding the pain of the handcuffs digging into his skin and the general discomfort of his position to
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 41 be unbearable, thoughts of surrender and compromise came to him
for the first time:
It is as I have been told. They will have their false confession. But I don't want to make a false confession. Maybe there is a way to say something that is not totally untrue to satisfy them--but what? . . . . I've said the truth. They don't want the truth. I've only one way to escape: to guess what they really want. With all the circumstances of my life, the most believable thing was that in going back to Europe it waspossible to meet him . . . not true, but believable.
He replied that they had met in Europe after the war. The judge was still displeased. And at that point, an assistant passed some- thing to the judge which to Father Luca looked like a photograph.
I thought, "Certainly this can't be a photograph of Father C and my- self taken outside of China. It must be the photograph I made with Chinese priests in Rome in 1939 [he had really posed for such a pic- ture]. They must be using this photograph as proof that I had seen Father C there. " I don't know how I came to think this.
I gave my mind such an explanation because I could not endure the pain. I was coming to the conclusion that they wanted me to say I had seen him in Rome. I thought it might be according to a story which they wanted to put out that Father C was doing espionage work under directions from the Vatican. I knew that this was their line from their propaganda.
So, in answer to the judge's original question about their meet- ing, Father Luca said: "It was in Rome, in 1939. " He was im- mediately permitted to stand up, experiencing direct relief of the pain, and a few minutes later was taken back to his cell.
The Labyrinth
But the cell chief, acting upon instructions from above, still denounced Luca as not "sincere," and ordered that he remain con- tinuously standing, in order for him to "meditate" on his "crimes. " And for the next month--a harrowing maze of nightly interrogations and daily struggles--he was kept constantly awake, his cellmates alternating in their "night duty," pinching, slapping, and poking him to make sure that he did not sleep. Because he was forced to maintain a standing position, his legs became swollen and distended
? 42 THOUGHT REFORM
with fluid. He remembers being permitted to sleep on only three occasions: once when he fainted, another time when he became so confused that he could not follow the interrogation, and a third time when interrogations were postponed because of a heavy storm. He estimates that he slept for a total of only sixteen hours during this entire four-week period. He became increasingly confused, and could no longer tell night from day; he found himself constantly straining his faculties in his attempts to understand just what it was he was expected to say:
At the beginning it was only a question of curiosity, but afterwards, when I couldn't endure it and my mind was confused, I thought, "Why don't they say exactly what they want me to say? It is so difficult to get at what they want. " After two weeks I would say almost anything they wanted me to say . . . but of course not easily.
In this state, he "confessed" to three major "crimes": use of a concealed radio set to send and receive "espionage" information; organization of a ring of young boys for the purpose of conducting sabotage and writing anti-Communist publications (the public ac- cusation made prior to his imprisonment); and the active participa- tion--as "secretary"--in an "espionage organization" allegedly headed by Father C. All three of these "admissions" were false, built up through half-truths and fabrications.
Father Luca's description of the step-by-step development of these "espionage" themes so graphically reveals the unfolding of his false confession--and his developing belief in some of his own false- hoods--that I have allowed him to speak here at some length. As he told me about the first of these, the concealed radio theme, I was impressed by the complexities of the tortuous process involved:
The first thing about the radio came when the interrogator said: "You have other things which you don't speak about, but you can be sure that the people know them. Don't think that we're not informed. " I said that I knew there were some people who said I had a special radio --a short wave set. 1 had heard this accusation before I had been arrested. I told him there was nothing true about it. He said, "You say so, but what is the reality? What have you put in your storeroom immediately after the liberation? "
I said that I had put nothing there. Then I thought, "Maybe there is something--not a radio--but there was a friend of mine who visited me before the Communists came--and entrusted me with some of his things. " I tried to think whether I had put some of his things in the
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 43
storeroom. My mind was not so strong. I said, "Yes--there may be some things that I didn't remember. " I also knew that there was a boy who had worked for us who had turned against us and could have reported anything we stored. So, although I did not think there was a radio there, I dared not oppose what the judge said. He said, "Was it a receiver or a sender? " He said it first because I hadn't known the Chinese word for receiver and sender. At first I said that it wasn't either. Then I said, "Maybe a receiver--yes--perhaps a sender. " There was a moment when I had the visualization of an actual sender--but I knew best, it was not true. Like sometimes when you are half dream- ing and youseesomething. . . .
Afterwards, when they asked me how it had come into my hands, I also had to tell a story about this. I said that my friend went away and left it for me, and that a servant had helped me to dismantle it. Then the judge said, "You must have been helped by people who understood electricity. " . . . Then I brought in two more men, an electrician who worked in the cathedral, and a young boy who liked to tinker with electrical gadgets. . . . The next part also came out logically from what I had said before. I thought if somebody would have a radio the worst place to keep it would be in the cathedral, because it was known that the Communists especially watched churches and frequently made accusations that there were radio senders there. So I said I had put it some other place. At first I said I couldn't remember the street name. When they insisted, I gave them the name: "Ironwall Street. " I made it up. When the judge told me the following day that he couldn't find the street on the map, I told him that perhaps I couldn't remember it correctly. . . .
Then I imagined rather clearly a street with a house, a front room, and behind the front room a radio sender. I had a clear imaginationof all this without knowing whether it was true. . . . It was like what I have heard about writing a novel--imagining people who act in a certain way--landscapes and circumstances. For writers, it is very vivid --like the real thing--but of course they know that it is not the real thing. W ith me it was really vivid--yet not having totally lost the idea that it wasuntrue. . . . I rather tried to have something logical. . . . In the cell, the other prisoners made suggestions and it developed that I didn't only send messages but also received information. . . . . So, little by little, it became not only once but many times, with many other people--and also connected with other priests. . . . It became a whole organization. . . . To some extent I visualized the spy organiza- tion. I also invented names and many other details.
The second theme, about the subversive ring of small boys, in- cluded a personal confrontation:
After one week the judge interrogated me about a certain Chinese boy. I told him the truth, that the name was not familiar to me. Then he
? 44 THOUGHT REFORM
confronted me with the boy in person, and I told him again that I did not know him. But the boy said he knew me, and also that I had told him to write anti-Communist pamphlets. I snowed some hesitation, as I had contact with a thousand boys as a parish priest.
The judge said I was not sincere--put the handcuffs on me again-- and again made me sit in that extremely painful position until I con- fessed that I knew the boy. From this kind of interrogation, and from the suggestions which were made in the cell, gradually the confession built up, . . . I knew that I had been accused of instigating a boy to write anti-Communist slogans and to throw stones at street lights. . , . Many of the more concrete suggestions came from the cell. The chief would say, "You have already said you have done this, you must have done more. There must have been more boys. " Finally a con- fession somehow developed in which I said there had been twenty-five boys in this organization whose purpose was conducting sabotage and writing anti-Communist publications.
The third, Father C s organization, involved pressures from cell- mates, developing the points which Father Luca had already "admitted" during the interrogations.
They said, "Well, you certainly did something for Father C. " I said, "No, that would have been impossible. I had just come to China. I didn't know the situation. I didn't know Chinese. " They said, "You didn't know Chinese, but you do know foreign languages. " I admitted that I did. And so somehow the suggestion came out that, since I had to be doing something for him, maybe it was writing, some kind of clerical work. This seemed to be the only thing I could do for him. So it came to be like a conviction that not only I could do this, but that I had done this. . . . 1 remembered that Father C had once men- tioned an uncle of his and an old lady he knew, both in Switzerland. So I mixed this thing I heard from him with the suggestion I had written letters for him. And so I said I had written letters to that uncle and old lady in Switzerland.
They said, "You say you have not participated in his organization. Now you say you have written letters for him. That is a connection in his organization. Now what was your title? A man who writes letters like this for an organization--what is he called? What is his title? ". . . . They didn't say exactly, but the meaning was very clear. I made the reply, "Secretary. " After that I knew I must accept the title of Secretary. . . . I did not really believe I had been a secretary but rny mind was confused, and I felt it was impossible to refute their [cell- mates] arguments. I did develop the conviction that I had written two or three letters. It came little by little. . . . It is impossible to say exactly how these ideas first developed.
? FATHER LUCA: THE FALSE CONFESSION 45
Father Luca's false visualizations (or illusions) varied in dura- tion from a fleeting moment to a period of a few weeks or months, merging into a dream-like state in which
I was mixed up between real and imaginary things and persons. I was no longer able to distinguish what was real and what was imaginary. . . . I had the notion that many things were imaginary, but I was not sure. I could not say, "This is real," or "This is not real. "
This inability to distinguish the real from the unreal extended beyond his immediate confession material. Once, just after he had fainted,
I had the idea that I was no longer in prison. I had been put in a small house outside the cathedral. People were going about outside--chiefly Christians. I heard voices and recognized some of them.
But this delusion was by no means completely removed from the confession, because in it he "came out into the garden" and saw two men, remembering the name of one of them but not of the other. And this he related to his interrogators' demands that he name "secret agents" (Chinese assistants to foreign priests), and his in- ability to remember the name of one of them in particular. The next day he questioned whether all of this had really happened, as it had become to him "half-dream, half-real. " He had two additional delusions which also contained fantasies of rescue, but were more elaborate--and more lasting:
I had the idea that in the cell next to mine was a priest whom I knew very well before. He had also been badly mistreated. One day in bright daylight somebody came into his cell and said to him, "You have talked very well. Your affair is very simple and it is now finished. We see that you are not so bad. W e'll take you out this afternoon for a trip to the summer palace [in Peking]. After that we will release you. "
Then I heard this priest go out with a sigh, and while he was walking past my cell, he spoke in Latin--saying the beginning words of the Mass--"I shall come unto the altar of God. " . . . I thought, "Maybe he is saying that because in coming out of jail he is glad that tomorrow he can say Mass. Or maybe he is offering the pain and the suffering experienced to God. " . . . I remember that at that moment I coughed to let him know I was there.
? 46 THOUGHT REFORM
So convinced was he that this episode really occurred that one year later, during a special movement for the exposure of all "bad behavior/' he "confessed" to having coughed on this occasion to attract the attention of his fellow priest. It was only when he ar- rived in Hong Kong after his release, and was told that this other priest had never been arrested, that he gave up his belief in this incident. And the same was true of another rather similar episode:
Another time, in bright daylight, I had the impression I heard a European consul speaking--visiting the prison with a group of people. They went to visit another cell--someone else. On their way out, he said, "I have heard that Father Luca was also here. " There was no answer from the prison official. He was just before my cell at that mo- ment--so again I coughed--but the officer led him away. I heard him talking in the courtyard and I coughed again to let him know I was there. But nothing happened. . . . Here in Hong Kong I asked the officials of my government whether a consul ever visited the prison. They said no, and that it certainly couldn't be true.
These delusions were also related to his confession material and to a sense of guilt which was building up within him.
