What Kind of Parental Love Do We Need
Young people are often greatly influenced by their families and parents during their growth. In today’s socialist era, what kind of parental love do we revolutionary youth need? How should we correctly view parental love? Solving these questions is very important for our healthy growth in political and ideological terms. This is closely related.
Chairman Mao taught us: “Love is a matter of ideology; it is a product of objective practice.” In a class society, parental love as a form of ideology is always connected with the mode of production of a given society, reflecting specific class content. There is no love in the world without reason, and of course, there is no abstract, super-class parental love.
The exploiting classes always like to talk about abstract “flesh-and-blood kinship” and “family happiness,” reducing parental love to a universal human nature shared by all mankind, erasing its class nature. This is a lie of the landlord bourgeoisie’s humanism. In fact, in different eras and among different classes, the purposes, content, standards, and ways of loving children are all different. Therefore, we must insist on Marxist class analysis when understanding parental love.
Everyone knows that in a society with private ownership, the family is the basic economic unit of society. Children have historically been regarded as private property of parents. Therefore, parental love is always stamped with the mark of private ownership.
The love of parents for children in feudal landlord classes is concentrated in a phrase called “hoping for the son to become a dragon.” “Becoming a dragon” means wanting children to stand out, hold official positions, and lord over the laboring people. In feudal society, to “become a dragon,” one had to teach children to respect Confucius and read classics, using Confucian and Mencian doctrines as stepping stones for upward mobility. The feudal landlord class combined the indoctrination of Confucian and Mencian teachings with the bait of fame and fortune, advocating a path from reading these sages to “studying hard to become an official.” For the exploiting class, letting children follow this path is seen as a matter of course. If young people show doubts or resistance, they are considered rebellious and may be accused or beaten. Jia Baoyu in Dream of the Red Chamber is punished by his father Jia Zheng for not “paying attention to Confucianism and Mencius, and dedicating himself to economic pursuits,” nearly losing his life. Clearly, the exploitative class’s hope for their children to become “dragons” ultimately aims at high official positions and wealth, inheriting and expanding their accumulated land and wealth. This is the class essence of the parental love expressed by “hoping for the son to become a dragon.”
In modern bourgeois families, the relationship between parents and children, like other relationships in capitalist society, becomes purely monetary. Bourgeoisie drown “parental love” and “flesh-and-blood kinship” in selfishness and greed. In the 19th-century French novel The Red and the Black, there is a scene: the protagonist Julien is imprisoned and tortured. His father visits him with indifference and blame. At that moment, Julien suddenly shouts, “I have money.” This phrase magically makes the old man immediately friendly and changes Julien’s status. Julien laments, “That’s what parental love is!”
Of course, the parental love of the bourgeoisie also manifests in pampering and unrestrained indulgence. Those wealthy old masters and madams, indulging in pleasures, often treat their children as toys for leisure, living parasitically in luxury and extravagance, making children spoiled from a young age, growing into social parasites who are lazy, ignorant of the world, and dependent on others. It is clear that this “parental love” and “flesh-and-blood kinship,” built on exploiting the labor of the working people, bears the deep imprint of class.
The phrase “raising children to prevent old age” reflects the hopes and demands of small private owners and small producers. In old society, small farmers and small artisans, working tirelessly and suffering from constant worries, were ruthlessly exploited and oppressed by landlords and capitalists, facing the threat of bankruptcy at any time. Their economic status prevented them from changing social realities; they could only live anxiously. When old and ill, losing their labor power, they faced endless disasters. Therefore, they hoped their children would preserve the family property and ensure a peaceful old age. From this perspective, the love of small private owners for their children, expressed as “raising children to prevent old age,” is merely a passive way to maintain their family’s status, with clear class limitations.
The parental love of the proletariat is entirely different in class content from that of the bourgeoisie and other exploiting classes. “Proletarians have no property; their relationship with their wives and children bears no resemblance to bourgeois family relations.” Under capitalism, the social status of the proletariat is extremely low, owning nothing, living by selling their labor. Their children are forced to work in factories from a young age, enduring heavy physical labor and suffering, severely damaging their physical and mental health. This is not because proletarians do not love their children, but because the evil capitalist system destroys proletarian families, turning their children into mere commodities and tools of labor. Under such circumstances, where is “family happiness” to be found?
Of course, before being armed with Marxism, the proletariat was still an “independent class,” and their love for children in the family was limited to simple feelings and small scope. Only after accepting Marxist education, understanding their social position and historical mission, will parental love in proletarian families elevate to class love, linking love for children with the revolutionary cause of the proletariat.
Gorky’s famous novel Mother depicts how a worker’s mother grows from an ordinary woman into a strong revolutionary fighter. Initially, she worries about her son reading banned revolutionary books after work, even secretly praying for his safety. But under the influence of her son and his comrades, and through revolutionary ideas, she gradually understands the truth of revolution. Later, when her son is imprisoned, she does not fear but resolutely joins the revolutionary struggle, directly participating in combat. The revolutionary practice elevates her spiritual realm to a new height: her love for her son rises to love for all revolutionary fighters, and further to love for all suffering class brothers. Here, we see that parental love in worker families, when linked with revolutionary causes, is what the proletariat revolution needs and advocates. In the revolutionary modern Peking opera Red Lantern, the love of Grandma Li and Li Yu for Tie Mei similarly embodies this proletarian parental love.
It should be recognized that the worldview of parents influences and transforms their children consciously or unconsciously. During the socialist period, class struggle is long-term and complex. Old ideas and concepts of the exploiting classes, as well as the toxic bourgeois, revisionist, and opportunist ideas spread by Liu Shaoqi, Lin Biao, and others, will inevitably be reflected in parent-child relationships. This is not surprising. The important thing is that we revolutionary youth must establish clear class viewpoints, learn class analysis, and correctly view parental love. Here, we want to focus on several questions for young friends:
How should children accept parental education?
In a class society, all education, including family education, contains class content. Therefore, we must learn to analyze and discern parental words from a proletarian perspective. We should listen to correct and revolutionary words; reject and oppose wrong words that go against revolutionary interests, and help parents overcome old ideas and break with traditional concepts.
For example, in daily life, parents are often concerned about their children’s future and give them future-oriented education. But what constitutes a “good future”? Different classes have different answers. Some parents influenced by traditional ideas still hope their children will “become a dragon,” not “become a cow.” They see children working in agriculture or as cooks or cleaners as lowly and unpromising. They try everything to keep children close, find “promising” jobs, or oppose children going to the countryside for revolution. In our society, using the old bourgeois contempt for rural life and manual labor to influence children and choosing their future is actually poisoning children with exploitative ideas and pushing them onto the revisionist path. For such parental love and education, revolutionary youth must learn to discern and resist. The example of the rural youth Chai Chunze provides a vivid example of correct parental education.
Chai Chunze’s father was an old cadre who participated in the revolution for nearly thirty years. He experienced the test of war and fought long in socialist revolutionary positions. However, regarding his son going to the countryside, he twice wrote to encourage him to “transfer” or “go to a factory,” but was resisted by his son. In his letter, Chai Chunze sincerely and sharply criticized: “Dad, I now need you to give me rooted education 100%, I do not agree with your ‘uprooting’ education.”
One wants to “root,” the other wants to “uproot”—this represents the opposition and struggle between proletarian and bourgeois ideas. To his father, letting his son “transfer” or “go to a factory” was out of “care” and “love.” But to Chai Chunze, such parental love, based on personal and small family interests, and old ideas that despise rural life and manual labor, must be resolutely fought against to break completely. Chai Chunze’s demand for “rooted education” is to love his children with proletarian standards, educate them with proletarian ideas, and inherit the revolutionary tradition, carrying forward the revolution. After his father recognized his mistake, he deeply felt that “uprooting” children, although seemingly “loving” and considering their “future,” was unconsciously guiding them toward bourgeois class.
What kind of “care” do children need from parents?
Parents’ concern for children is multi-faceted and often reflects the opposition and struggle between two classes and two ideas.
Have you read the novel The Long March? It describes two mothers of Shanghai youth sent to the countryside: one is Zhong Weihua’s mother, a former bonded worker and bitter old worker; the other is Wan Lili’s mother, a bourgeois lady full of coppery smell of money. These two mothers, with completely different ideas and methods, “care” for their children, reflecting two completely opposite attitudes toward the socialist revolution. At the dock sending off the youth, Zhong’s mother, after a night shift at the factory, gives her son a worn-out, bloodstained uniform, a yellowed contract, and a bloodstained work badge, and earnestly reminds him: “Go, son, build and defend the frontier with your comrades. Charge ahead, endure hardships first, don’t let Chairman Mao’s hopes for your generation down.”
In contrast, Wan Lili’s mother, before her daughter departs, fills her with gifts and whispers: “Remember, in your handbag’s inner pocket, I’ve hidden 200 yuan. This is your insurance fare—fare back to Shanghai. If you can’t handle it there, come back anytime. Remember!”
Here, we see that two classes, two kinds of concern, are both centered on vying for the new generation. Revolutionary parents who care about their children’s political growth, educate them to study Marxist-Leninist and Mao Zedong Thought, and encourage them to follow the path of combining with workers and peasants. After children go to the countryside, they also encourage them to humbly accept re-education from poor and lower-middle peasants and root themselves in rural revolutionary work. Zhong’s mother is a shining example of millions of revolutionary parents. But, like Wan Lili’s mother, their “care” is poisoned by the rotten ideas of the exploiting class. They see children as private property and strive to cultivate them as heirs of bourgeois families. Facing such “care,” young people from exploitative families, if not vigilant, can easily become captives or sacrifices of the bourgeoisie. Wan Lili’s near involvement with counter-revolutionaries is a profound lesson.
Some parents from the working class, influenced by old ideas, spoil their children and use incorrect thoughts and methods to “care” for them. They rarely inquire about their children’s political progress but indulge their daily needs. After going to the countryside, children receive parcels of food, new clothes, and everything they need, which only fosters dependence and hampers their growth through hardship. We say that parents should indeed care about their children’s daily life, but more importantly, they should care about their political growth. Some revolutionary parents say well: “Don’t send sweets to sweeten their mouths; send revolutionary books and red thoughts instead.” As revolutionary youth, we should not rely on parents in daily life, but we need social concern—including from parents—to help us grow into successors of the proletarian revolutionary cause.
What kind of “inheritance” should children receive from parents?
In old society, inheritance was private property, the foundation of private ownership society, and the lifeblood of the exploiting classes. At that time, the wealth left by landlords and capitalists—gold, silver, property, factories—was all accumulated through the blood and bones of the working people. Exploiting class children relied on these unearned inheritances to lead luxurious parasitic lives. They believed that more exploitation meant richer inheritance, which was a source of pride.
In contrast, the proletariat, under socialism, owns no private property, and there are no inheritance assets left to their children. During the socialist period, the means of production have been socialized, and no one leaves production assets as inheritance. But what should the older generation of revolutionary parents leave for future generations? This is a fierce ideological struggle. Let’s listen to Comrade Gan Zuchang, a veteran Red Army soldier, on this issue. Once, Gan Zuchang’s eldest son wanted his father to build him a new house. This made Gan ponder deeply. One evening, he gathered his children and studied the Communist Manifesto’s discussion on “abolishing inheritance rights,” and earnestly told them: “Leaving a pile of material wealth for future generations to live parasitically is the inheritance of the bourgeoisie. We proletarians can only leave revolutionary heirlooms, not a nest of comfort.”
Gan Zuchang’s strict Marxist attitude toward his children embodies the true love of the proletariat for future generations of revolutionaries.
This story reminds us of the famous historical dialogue Chu Long Tells Zhao Taihou, which is very thought-provoking:
Chu Long: Three generations ago, when Zhao State was established, the descendants of the Zhao king were enfeoffed as marquises. Are there still hereditary titles today?
Empress Dowager: No.
Chu Long: Not only Zhao, but other states, do their descendants still hold hereditary titles?
Empress Dowager: I have not heard of any.
Chu Long: None at all? Then what is the reason? Isn’t it because they “hold high positions without merit, serve generously without labor, and carry heavy burdens”?…
The so-called “heavy burdens” in this dialogue refer to what is now called “power” and “rights.” This dialogue reflects the redistribution of property and power within the feudal aristocracy during its early transition from slavery. Such redistribution was ongoing, symbolized by the saying “a noble’s grace lasts five generations.” We do not represent the exploiting class but the proletariat and working people. But if we do not strictly demand our children, they may also degenerate, possibly leading to capitalist restoration, and the proletarian property and power could be taken back by the bourgeoisie.
Although this story is about how parents treat children, it also provides enlightenment for our revolutionary youth about what kind of parental love we need today. It tells us that the revolutionary descendants of the proletariat, especially the children of revolutionary cadres, must not rest on their parents’ achievements or enjoy privileges. They should inherit the revolutionary banner handed down by the older generation, carry forward the revolutionary tradition, and pass on the proletarian revolutionary heirloom from generation to generation, making it flourish!
