Forgotten farmers heading toward their final harvest

• Source: The Global Times
• [19:47 May 10 2009]
• Comments

By Peng Yining

A woman and her young son look at a display at the People’s Commune Museum in Gaobeidian, a village in Beijing. (Photo: CFP)

Fu Jinhua’s day starts before dawn. While most people are still asleep, she is busy tilling the soil at a people’s commune in Lijiagang, Hubei Province.

Fu was 18 when she moved to the village in 1969 after marrying a local farmer. Her life has changed little since, except that she can now exchange the points she earns each day – seven on average – for cash (6 yuan apiece) instead of grain.

But at age 58, Fu is part of a dying breed of Chinese farmers. People’s communes, ubiquitous in the days of Chairman Mao, are becoming increasingly rare.

Between 1958 and 1984, rural collectives were an important part of the political and economic system. Peasants shared almost everything – land, livestock, grain – and were given points rather than pay for the jobs they did. At the end of each year, the points could be converted into cash.

Critics have long argued, however, that communes, which were designed also to serve as a form of low-level government, seldom delivered real equality. The tide began to turn on November 24, 1978, when a group of farmers from a village in Anhui Province began dividing up their shared land among individual families.

Although Lijiagang is one of only about 1,000 people’s communes left in China, village chief Qu Qin is keen for it to keep its identity.

“There used to be 300 mu (20 hectares) of arable land in Lijiagang, which equated to about 132 square meters per person,” Qu said.

“People couldn’t make a living farming such small parcels of land, so working together and sharing the fields was our only choice. A farmer with land can at least eat, so while other people are giving up on people’s communes, we are fighting to survive.”

Despite Qu’s optimism, the amount of arable land in Lijiagang has dwindled to 20 mu and just 16 of the village’s 342 residents continue to work it. The youngest is 40, the eldest 59.

“All of the others left to work in towns and cities,” Qu said. “Only women and old people stayed.”