When Chang Hsueh-liang was pushed out of Manchuria the Generalissimo gave him a consolation trip to Europe, and Donald accompanied him. There was a contretemps in Italy when the Young Marshal got into what Donald considered bad company and started dissipating; Donald walked out on him and stayed out until Chang repented and begged him to come back. They returned to China early in 1934, at the end of the Fukien Rebellion and the beginning of Chiang’s strongest campaign against the Communists.
The Generalissimo had a series of conversations with the Young Marshal on this matter in Hangchow, and Donald came along. It was just at the time that the New Life Movement was originally inaugurated to stimulate the people in formerly occupied Red districts. The New Life Movement for one or two years was not very well understood among the masses, and in treaty ports such as Shanghai, where critics have always been bolder than in the interior, the press made fun of it. The most publicized of its tenets were the least important: the rule that all collars on Chinese gowns must be buttoned, for example. Government officials and policemen took their duties very seriously, and public places such as the squares outside railway stations were kept scrupulously clean. Spitters and people who threw their cigarette butts about were punished.
There was more to the Movement than this, however. Madame Chiang always stresses the point that the details — modesty and economy in dress, cleanliness, improvement in table manners, moderation in cigarette smoking — are merely outward signs of a more important spiritual reform that the Generalissimo is trying to achieve for the people. He formulated the philosophy of the Movement or the basis of four words familiar to the sages: Propriety, Justice, Integrity and Conscientiousness.
Peoples of the outer world [writes the Generalissimo] may not at first be able to understand the necessity for such a movement, but they will do so if they realize that they have grown up with national consciousness fully developed around and about them, whereas the Chinese people have been deliberately forcibly bereft of it, and, therefore, know nothing of those sentiments and impulses that so quickly move the Occidental peoples when matters concerning their country come forward for consideration or action. It is to correct the evil consequences arising from this serious state of affairs that action is now being taken along a psychological and educational line . . . we have to learn that to correct personal and national failings we must fall back upon the influence of the old teachings. Rudeness and vulgar manners can be corrected by cultural and artistic training, and degeneration can be overcome by developing good personal character. It is difficult, however, to succeed merely through the ordinary processes of education and governance. If we are determined to reform we must start with the most fundamental question — we must reform our habits first . . . . These virtues [the four already mentioned] must be applied to ordinary matter, such as food, clothing, shelter, and action . . . . The means of maintaining our livelihood may be divided into three phases; first, the obtaining of materials; second, the selection of quality; and third, the manner in which these materials are used . . . .
1. The obtaining of materials should be governed by the principle of “lien” [integrity]. Clear discrimination should be exercised between what is ours and what is not. If they do not belong to us, we should not take them. In other words, the materials for our daily life should be acquired through our own labor or through other proper means. Strife should not be encouraged. A parasite is not a good example. Even giving and taking improperly should be avoided. “What really matters is the degradation of personality, but not dying in hunger.” . . .
2. The selection of quality should be governed by the principle of “i” [justice]. Do the proper thing in a particular situation. For instance, it is proper for an old man to use silk and to take meat and to have lots of leisure; but a young man should be trained to endure hardship. What is proper in winter is not necessarily proper in summer. What is proper in the North is not necessarily proper in the South. Similarly, different positions may influence a situation differently. A ruler, or any army commander, must have some authority; while those of a lower rank should not enjoy the same thing, but should respect discipline. Thus, what is proper is influenced by age, season, location, and rank; the selection of quality varies in different situations.
3. The manner in which materials are used should be governed by the principle of “li” [propriety], which includes natural law, social rules, and national discipline . . . .
As a substitute for the promises of the Communists, we of the West would consider this code of ethics far too abstract and lacking in action to be useful. After all, the Reds’ teachers spoke sharply and to the point on taxation, distribution of land, and the disposition of the overlords, whereas Chiang’s program, though ambitious enough, was almost too large and moral to take these practical matters into account. We must remember, however, that the Chinese are used to being scolded and exhorted in the name of Virtue. Verbal uplift in China is a mannerism and does not call forth the response that we would manifest if we were told to be honest and clean and straightforward, etc. Our reaction, after two or three of these lectures, would be merely to retort, “Oh, yeah?” But in China every schoolboy, as soon as he can write, inscribes pious and dictatorial maxims in his notebook, and not only in his own notebook but in the autograph albums of his friends.
The New Life Movement, then, was not too abstract for the public it was intended for. For the moment of emergency its chief virtue was that it offered a program, the People’s Reconstruction, and that it was something that lent itself to publicity. The art of publicity was new to China, but the leaders were not long in catching on to its methods and possibilities. For the American-trained Madame Chiang, at least, there was nothing startling in the concept of going out deliberately to advertise the Movement on a large scale, and she was to find an adept aide in the person of Donald.
His advice and labors were transferred from the service of the Young Marshal by almost imperceptible stages. After Chang had visited the Chiangs in Hangchow he saw a good deal of them, and one day when Donald was there Madame Chiang came in with her arms full of papers — correspondence, reports, suggestions to be followed or rejected, and a host of other things.
“Look at this!” she said in despair. “I’ll never be able to finish it — Don, can you help me?”
Donald could. He could make quick decisions as to which matter needed attention and which could wait; his judgment was sound. Most important, he could write shorthand, and he himself says that it was this accomplishment that changed his entire life. After a few days of intensive activity at the Generalissimo’s Headquarters, he happened to see the Young Marshal, who came into the room where he was working.
“I never see you any more,” said the Young Marshal.
“Well, you know where to find me,” retorted Donald pleasantly. “Come in any time.”
Chang was not going to give up his adviser without a struggle. He suggested a compromise by which Donald should spend six months with the Chiangs and then, Proserpine-like, return to his Young Marshal, but this was too difficult and in the end the Chiangs won out. Donald is still very much a friend of Chang, however, and is quick to defend him against criticism on the Sian affair.
It was soon after the Young Marshal lost him, or perhaps even during the change-over period, that the entire group, with Dr Kung, started out on a trip that was to have far-reaching consequences in China’s history and a very important effect upon the Generalissimo and his wife.
CHAPTER XIX
The Chiangs See China’s Northwest
It was at the end of 1933 that T.V. Soong left the Government, following a disagreement with the Generalissimo on the matter of finances. He was unwilling to allow as much of the budget as Chiang needed for the army, particularly since he questioned the wisdom of subsidies for the generals of the provinces. Chiang maintained that the nation’s safety outweighed all other necessities. He wanted to raise more money; Soong wanted to decrease the national debt. They could not a
gree, and T.V. resigned his post, later going abroad. To take his place, the Generalissimo appointed Dr Kung Minister of Finance. Kung was experienced in banking, that being the work his family had done for generations, and he had been Acting Minister of Finance before, during the Northern Expedition.
By this time Chiang was the real leader of China both politically and militarily. However, he refused a request from the Kuomintang to become president of the Party and said that he did not approve of dictatorships. Nevertheless he insisted that Nanking was the center of government, and at the psychological moment, when the Japanese placed Henry Pu-yi upon the throne of “Manchukuo” and named him Emperor, Chiang proposed to the turbulent southern provinces, Kwangtung and Kwangsi, that they settle their differences amicably. Terms were found which satisfied everyone, and the Southwest Political Council resolved to support and obey the Central Government.
On October fourth, 1934, the Generalissimo, accompanied by his wife, Chang Hsueh-liang, Donald, and various generals, arrived in Hankow on his way to Loyang. He held several conferences here, chiefly upon the matter of “bandit suppression”; in other words, he was preparing for his big drive against the Reds, and used the few days he spent in Hankow to talk to his generals and to make fresh plans. He departed on October tenth, the most important day in Chinese Republican history.
The trip to Loyang was made in order to open a new branch of the Central Military Academy, and to inspect the administration methods of that city at the same time. The Generalissimo spoke to the cadets, there were celebrations in his honor, and everything went according to schedule. It was all over by the afternoon of the eleventh, and the Chiangs bade fair to keep to their original plan of taking only three days off for the whole affair. They were actually in their private car, waiting for the locomotive that was to take them back to Hankow and quietly drinking tea, when in the course of conversation somebody said that really they were not very far away from Sian . . . .
It was Donald who reflected aloud that with a slight change of plan, i.e., if the locomotive were placed at the other end of the train, they could actually visit Sian.
The idea suddenly took hold of Chiang Kai-shek’s fancy. Madame Chiang liked it too. It was not long since those conversations in Hangchow, when the Generalissimo had admitted the truth of an allegation made by Donald that no high official had ever been able to govern China properly because no official ever knew where reforms were needed. The chiefs of local regions were always afraid to report truthfully, and no ruler ever had taken the time or opportunity to investigate for himself. This statement had made the Generalissimo think, and he resolved to go on to Sian at least. The whole party thereupon started out on what was to be an important tour.
The private airplane of the Chiangs took some of them; others went by train. It was an exciting time for Sianfu; nobody could have guessed under what circumstances the Chiangs were to visit that city again. For two days the party saw the sights and were entertained in the usual fashion, but on the fourteenth the Generalissimo and his wife did something that was to have far-reaching consequences, something that had never before happened in China.
From the North-China Daily News:
It is generally supposed that the visit is not unconnected with the Communist menace in Szechwan, for in any movement of or against the Reds this province would be one of the main fronts. But General and Madame Chiang are laying stress on the New Life Movement and today a great meeting in support of it has been held in the Min Lo Yuen, the largest hall in the city. One gracious act was the invitation of all the foreign missionaries in the city to coffee and conversation yesterday afternoon. Both General and Madame Chiang made informal speeches, the one in Chinese and the other in perfect and beautiful English, thanking the missionaries for their service to China and urging that they should co-operate with the New Life Movement to the utmost of their power, as had already been done in Kiangsi with excellent results. Those present were, of course, entirely sympathetic with every movement towards manners, cleanliness and the uplift of the people, and a committee representing all the missions in the city was elected then and there to move in the matter. All were much impressed by the dignity and charm of manner of the Generalissimo and his wife and came away thankful that there are people of such gifts, energy and devotion in the highest places of the land.
The missionaries were more than impressed; they were flabbergasted. In their most optimistic moments they had never expected the leaders of China to come to them and to ask to know the truth, which is what the Chiangs had done at that meeting. Madame had explained in English; they, the Generalissimo and herself, were anxious to see that a real reform was carried out. They realized that the missionaries, who lived with the people and understood their problems, would be able to tell them just what was needed in the way of change and uplift. The missionaries were also in a peculiar position of independence; unlike the officials, they could tell the truth without fear or ambition standing in their way. Madame Chiang asked them to be quite frank, and promised on behalf of the Government to co-operate.
It was something that had never happened before, and for a while it is no wonder that the missionaries were incredulous and even suspicious. For many years the more sociologically minded among them had written, begged, intrigued and pleaded for a chance to talk to even the smaller officials. Very few of them had succeeded. Now the Generalissimo himself, with his wife, had come to them and asked them to speak out about what was wrong with their particular areas of China, and their ideas as to correcting these wrongs.
At last one of them took a deep breath and began to speak. When he was through there were half a dozen waiting their turn. It was a long session that afternoon, and an instructive one for everybody.
Madame Chiang also held a meeting of the leading women of Sian, i.e., the wives of the high officials, and urged them to take more of an interest in the public. These women promised to start a clinic for the treatment of opium addicts. Together with Madame Chiang they visited the Provincial Orphanage and the Business School for poor girls. When they left Sian it was believed by the public that they would return to Hankow, but a good deal was to happen before that.
They next visited Lanchow, the beautiful old Tang city. Lanchow on the map is up at the edge of the thickly settled parts of China, in the thin neck of Kansu, next to Kokonor. Until then, Presidents and Generalissimos simply never went to such places. It was considered a very dangerous step for the Generalissimo to have taken, and both the Young Marshal and Donald were severely scolded afterwards by many officials for having allowed the Chiangs to take such risks. Most of the Nanking officials believed with all their hearts that anyone in Chiang Kai-shek’s position was always in danger of assassination, especially in those wild far-off regions of the Northwest.
“To have allowed the General to go into a place like that without preparation or warning, without even a strong bodyguard — how could you have dared?” demanded one prominent member of the Government, and he was all the more shocked to hear that Chiang had walked about freely at his sightseeing with only two or three soldiers following him at a considerable distance. Even in 1934 and indeed until well after this tour, most people in eastern China thought of the less-known provinces as we think of Borneo. The fact that the Reds had retired in this direction added to their conviction that the Generalissimo walked in danger of his life every minute he was away.
The Chiangs, after inspecting the ancient architecture and the modern industries of Lanchow, flew north to have a look at Ningh-sia, which is even more remote, a genuine border town. There are some wonderful remnants of ancient culture there, but what impressed the Government people most of all was the distance over which they had to travel. It never seems the same on a map as it does when one traverses the actual region.
In Kaifeng, where the party next repaired, the Chiangs followed their policy of inviting the local missionaries to discussion. The Young Marshal dropped out of the tour at this time and returned to Hankow, bu
t Donald remained with them. Newspaper reports of the Kaifeng visit stress the missionary meeting:
Madame Chiang expressed a desire to meet the missionary body working in this capital city. When assured that this could be arranged, she sent her personal representative around to the different missions to invite them to a tea party at the Governor’s yamen. . . . At the tea table Generalissimo Chiang spoke most appreciatively of the good work done by the missionary body in China. He assured all that not only were the days of opposition and oppression past, but that the time of mere toleration was at an end. He said that, under the present government, it would be the policy to give the utmost freedom to, and active co-operation with, the work of the missionaries. He explained in detail the purpose of the New Life Movement, which he has been promoting throughout the country. It is not a mere regimentation of disciplinary movement to control the people, but aims at the moral, cultural and social uplift of the masses. He called upon Mr Liu to make use of the experience of the missionary body in promoting the objectives of the New Life Movement and asked the hearty co-operation of the missionary body.