Others claim that China’s and the world’s present situation can be attributed to any number of mistakes on the part of Chiang Kai-shek, General Marshall and the United States Government. Ignoring the tragedy of Yalta for the moment, one vitally important mistake Chiang made was the decision to fly his troops into Manchuria after the war, against the advice of General Wedemeyer. His mistake was an honest one, because he undoubtedly felt that the United States, having gone so far, would see him through to the end. He knew that if China were to occupy her rightful place in the world, control of the industrial potential of Manchuria was a “must.” In spite of the fateful decision at Yalta, about which Chiang was informed several months later by Ambassador Hurley, he still could not believe that Roosevelt, whom he deeply respected and admired, would slap him in the face by giving away Manchuria.
Truman, inheriting Roosevelt’s policy of appeasement toward Russia, sent General Marshall to China in 1946 on the impossible mission of forcing the Generalissimo to accept Communists into his Government. Marshall, who at that time had the admiration and respect of the entire United States, undoubtedly had a freer hand than any diplomat in our history. Had he been unbiased in his judgement, the future of China, Asia, and probably the Eurasian Continent would have been different. He had unlimited resources to give, a neat nest egg of $500,000,000, and the decision to spend some, all, or none of it was his, and his alone.
When Marshall arrived in China, the Nationalist Armies were over-extended, that is, their supply lines were stretched so long and so thin that they could not be protected from constant Communist raids. Chiang’s Armies held the main lines of communication, to be sure, and all the large cities of North China and a few in Manchuria. However, these Armies, although many of them were trained and equipped with American arms, had little ammunition, and they were surrounded on all sides by the Soviet-backed Communist Armies. The Communists retained the initiative, could strike when and where they wished, and thus succeeded in keeping their opponents paralyzed. It was not difficult to see that the future of Chiang’s Armies was dependent solely on aid, especially on munitions, and that no country on earth but the United States could supply their requirements. To shut off this aid meant strangulation and death.
Marshall’s first act was to set up a headquarters in Chungking, where he assembled his American experts on China and started a series of conferences with Communist and Nationalist leaders. From the beginning, the Chinese Communists showed, by their every action, that their only interest was in cutting off North China and Manchuria. They had no intention whatever of joining any kind of coalition government, over which they would not have complete control. After a great deal of discussion, these conferences resulted in superficial agreement on a few points of the controversy.
Prior to his return to Washington, the General decided to make a hasty trip to Yenan, probably out of curiosity. He must have wanted a closer look at these people whose propaganda he appeared to have accepted as fact during the entire war. Whether this was emotional caprice or political expediency only history can tell. We cannot assume that he was ignorant, therefore we must assume that he knew what he was doing.
Certainly the utterances of that period indicated that Marshall subscribed to the idea that we were dealing with “agrarian reformers.”
In his testimony before Congress, Marshall stated flatly that he had known all the time that the Chinese Communists were Marxists “because they told me so,” he said. But while he was negotiating with them he certainly gave the impression to others that he did not think they were the same brand of Communists as were the Russians. This fact, in itself, makes him doubly culpable, in my opinion. It is an intent to deceive, which makes the deception all the more sinister. If he knew all the time that the Chinese Communists were the same brand of Communists as the Russians, and he still threw the weight of every decision he made in China to them, then he could not possibly have given more aid and comfort to the enemy, Stalin, had he been a member of the Communist Party.
On Marshall’s arrival at the Airport of Yenan, he was greeted with pomp and ceremony by every military unit the Communists could muster. Welcomed enthusiastically by stocky Mao Tse-tung, in his coarse homespun peasant’s garb, suave Chou En-lai, in the snappy uniform of a three-star General, and Chu Teh, wearing a Russian soldier’s fur-lined cape, he accompanied his colorful and grateful hosts on an inspection of the troops. The Cadets from the Communist Military Academy, who had hiked in some fifty or sixty miles in order to form the Guard of Honor, were the best dressed and best outfitted of all the troops in the Communist Army. While spartanly clad in coarse but neat dark blue uniforms, they gave every evidence of superb leadership and discipline. Especially trained and selected, these Cadets became the equivalent, in Communist China, of the Soviet NKVD, or uniformed police troops.
In marked contrast, there was a battalion of Ming Bing, or militia, armed with spears for the occasion and lined up for the General’s inspection. These troops were dressed in everything from long robes to dirty white jackets and vests, and decorated with rings, bracelets and earrings. Their long, rusty spears were topped with flowering pompoms of dried grain. In no respect did they differ from their forbears of two thousand years ago.
The rest of the show consisted of masses of people in the drab dress affected by the Communists. The more colorful costumes of the non-Communist Yenanese were conspicuous by their absence.