On April 1, Chiang Kai-shek, Chairman of the National Government, delivered a lengthy political report at the National Political Consultative Assembly—a body rigged by the Kuomintang’s fascist reactionaries and boycotted by the Chinese Communist Party. Over the following two days, the Central News Agency published a roughly 6,000-word “summary” of the report. According to this summary, Chiang’s remarks essentially boiled down to two points: first, the abrogation of the Northeast Ceasefire Agreement and the resumption of large-scale civil war nationwide; second, the repudiation of the resolutions of the Political Consultative Conference and the reassertion of dictatorial rule, with an attempt to codify this dictatorship in constitutional form through a national convention.

Turning to the first point—the Northeast ceasefire—Chiang declared: “So long as the government’s authority has not been fully restored in the nine provinces of Northeast China, there can be no question of domestic affairs.” He further asserted that “the settlement of military conflicts shall proceed only on the condition that it does not impede the government’s restoration of sovereignty or its exercise of state administrative power.” In these statements, Chiang systematically tore up two commitments he had previously made. First, his forces, in collusion with Japanese and puppet troops, had been attacking the Northeast Democratic Allied Forces and massacring the local population; yet he insisted this was not a “military conflict” but rather “the restoration of sovereignty and the exercise of state administrative power,” thereby violating the cease-fire agreement’s provision that the Joint Military Commission “shall proceed to the scene of any conflict or to any point where government and Communist forces are in close contact, with a view to halting hostilities and effecting such equitable and necessary adjustments as may be required.” Second, the Kuomintang had used force to overthrow the Northeast people’s local self-government and impose a fascist reign of terror, which Chiang dismissed as “not constituting any domestic issue.” By doing so, he also flouted the cease-fire agreement’s stipulation that “political questions shall be discussed separately and settled without delay.” Through these pronouncements, Chiang laid bare his bloodthirsty, bestial nature, rendering his earlier claims about “sensitivity to local suffering” and “careful selection of teams by the Joint Military Commission to go to the Northeast and end the local hostilities” nothing more than nauseating hypocrisy.

In fact, it was widely known that it was the Chinese Communist Party that had consistently urged the Joint Military Commission to halt the fighting in the Northeast. Chiang and his clique, by contrast, had vehemently opposed the cease-fire and repeatedly maintained that the Northeast lay outside the Commission’s jurisdiction. On November 10, Chiang’s spokesman explicitly answered a foreign reporter’s question at a press conference: “Q: Does the mandate of the Beijing Joint Military Commission cover the Northeast? A: No. The Northeast is not included.” This statement was formally reported by the Central News Agency from Chongqing on that date and remains irrefutable. Only under pressure from the CCP, which cited the cease-fire agreement’s explicit requirement that all armed clashes throughout the country must cease, did Chiang finally feign acceptance of the Northeast cease-fire on March 17; yet just five days later, in his April 1 address, he promptly renounced it outright. Chiang chose to label the brutal civil war he was waging in the Northeast—with foreign rocket launchers and tanks—as “the restoration of sovereignty and the exercise of state administrative power.” Naturally, such rhetoric could never win the forgiveness of the Northeastern people, for no amount of fine-sounding slogans can shield them from death beneath foreign ordnance. Moreover, the Chinese public well remembers that whenever Chiang initiated civil war elsewhere, he invariably claimed it was necessary to “restore sovereignty” or “exercise state administrative power.” Indeed, he routinely denounced any local government established by the Chinese people after wresting national sovereignty from the Japanese aggressors as evidence that “sovereignty has yet to be restored.” In his view, the Republic of China’s sovereignty belonged not to the entire nation but solely to himself and his inner circle; accordingly, only his autocratic regime could legitimately assume power, while the people and all democratic parties were strictly barred from interfering—any such interference, he would insist, constituted a “threat to peace in the Far East and to world security,” as if the Far East and the entire globe were his private fiefdoms and their friendly nations mere servants at his beck and call.

The Chinese people also recall that during Japan’s occupation of vast swaths of Northeast, North, Central, and South China, Chiang showed little concern for safeguarding national sovereignty against the Japanese invaders. From the Mukden Incident until Japan’s surrender fourteen years later, his actions amounted to one long retreat—from Heilongjiang to Guizhou. Throughout those perilous years, his armies seemed guided by some magnetic compass, inexorably drawn southward. To this day, he continues to dispatch substantial forces from Vietnam, Yunnan, Guizhou, Guangxi, and Guangdong toward the Northeast, all the while complaining that the Communists, who steadfastly resisted in the Northeast and North China, stood in his way. Particularly shameful is Chiang’s brazen disregard for his own reputation as he fabricates a farcical “history” purporting that the Kuomintang had consistently upheld the resistance in the Northeast. Pretending amnesia, he acts as though he had never pursued a policy of non-resistance and Sino-Japanese friendship since the Mukden Incident, a course only abandoned when Zhang Xueliang, still imprisoned today, took steps to prevent him from continuing down that path. To refresh his memory, we might suggest that he reread his own writings from beginning to end; here, let us offer a few particularly distasteful quotations.

On April 7, 1922, speaking to senior commanders of the Central Route of the “Suppression Army” in Fuzhou, Jiangxi, Chiang declared: “Our revolutionary enemies are not the Japanese but bandits. Although Rehe and the Three Eastern Provinces have fallen—indeed, under a so-called unified government—we bear responsibility. Nevertheless, from a revolutionary standpoint, this is of little consequence. The Communist Party cannot be held accountable for Japan’s occupation of Rehe and the Three Eastern Provinces. Their loss entails no real harm to the revolution. If, at such a juncture, we indulge in empty rhetoric about resisting Japan while neglecting the urgent task of eradicating banditry, we are merely engaging in opportunism and betraying the very essence of our revolutionary spirit.” This passage appears on pages 75–77 of Theory and Practice of Bandit Suppression, compiled and published in July 1935 by the Publicity Committee of the Central Executive Committee of the Kuomintang.

In July 1934, addressing officers at the Lushan Military Training Institute, Chiang proclaimed: “How are we to resist foreign aggression and revive the nation? Can we simply pour all our resources into strengthening national defense and mass-producing aircraft and artillery, hoping thereby to enter into combat? As you generals surely know, even if we were to hastily acquire new weapons and fortify our defenses now, it would already be too late to mount effective resistance. Even if we devoted ourselves wholeheartedly to this effort for thirty years hence, it still would not suffice. So what means do we have to truly prepare for war and engage the enemy? None! Such a possibility does not exist. Let us dispel this illusion. At present, the very life of our nation, indeed the life of our people, lies entirely in the hands of the Japanese; we have no freedom of action whatsoever!” This speech was published as a separate volume and widely reprinted in Kuomintang newspapers across the country in 1928. It was also included in Selections from Chairman Chiang’s Addresses, compiled by the Chairman’s Secretariat, appearing on pages 431–432 of Volume I.

In September 1925, Chiang contributed an article titled “The Turning Point in Sino-Japanese Relations” to the Japanese journal Economic Exchange, in which he wrote: “China and Japan, from whatever perspective one considers, ought to cooperate closely for the prosperity of Asia. Despite the severe difficulties we currently face, mindful of the long history of our bilateral relations, we remain confident that the present disputes will ultimately be resolved through the sincere efforts and goodwill of both peoples, thus realizing the genuine cooperation and friendship between our two nations that we have long cherished.” This passage is found on pages 69–70 of Volume III of the Complete Works of Chairman Chiang, published by the Shanghai Guotai Bookstore.

Following the War of Resistance, on November 18, 1929, Chiang again addressed the Sixth Session of the Sixth Plenary Meeting of the Fifth Kuomintang Congress, delivering a speech entitled “China’s War of Resistance and the International Situation.” There, he stated: “What, precisely, does ‘resistance to the bitter end’ mean? When I spoke at the Fifth Plenary Meeting about ‘resistance to the bitter end,’ I meant restoring the status quo ante the July 7 Incident—this was based on a framework centered on China.” This remark is recorded on page 16 of Volume V of Selections from Chairman Chiang’s Addresses, compiled by the Chairman’s Secretariat.

Even these fragmentary excerpts suffice to establish beyond doubt that Chiang and his associates bear culpability for losing the Northeast yet have achieved nothing in seeking to recover it. Of course, Chiang may one day seek to burn, alter, or falsify these documents in order to convince kindergarten children nationwide that his April 1 address was a fairy tale—that after the Mukden Incident he never issued orders for non-resistance or for Sino-Japanese friendship, never signed the Shanghai Agreement, the Tanggu Truce, the Sino-Manchurian Communications and Postal Agreement, the Ho–Mei Agreement, or any other such treaties; that after the outbreak of the War of Resistance he engaged in no diplomatic maneuvers aimed at surrendering the Northeast in exchange for concessions; and that following Japan’s surrender he neither appointed puppet forces to occupy the region nor colluded with remnants of Japanese fascism to “restore sovereignty over the Northeast.” Unfortunately, however, he has yet to undertake such efforts. Chiang further perpetuates the falsehood that no Communist forces were present in the Northeast prior to Japan’s surrender, a claim that underscores his utter lack of national and ethnic consciousness. Any Chinese person with even a modicum of such awareness would never condone the obliteration of the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army’s celebrated decade-long struggle, nor of the eight-year heroic resistance of the Jireh Liaoning Border Region, nor of the valiant deeds of units led by Li Yunchang, Lü Zhengcao, Wan Yi, and Zhang Xueshi, which, as early as August 11, 1945—before the official Japanese surrender—were ordered to advance into the Northeast to reinforce the United Army and the Border Region, assist the Soviet Red Army in annihilating Japanese collaborators, liberate the local population, and restore national sovereignty. Driven by narrow partisan and personal interests, Chiang Kai-shek, in his capacity as Chairman of the National Government, brazenly resorts to such mendacious fabrications, bringing shame upon the entire Chinese nation.  With regard to the second objective of Chiang’s address—namely, the consolidation of his dictatorship—he declared: “The Political Consultative Conference is, in essence, not a constituent assembly. The draft agreements reached at the Conference concerning the structure of the government cannot, in principle, serve as a substitute for a provisional constitution… Should the Conference actually assume such a character, neither the government nor the Chinese people could possibly recognize it.” As is well known, the Conference’s mandate, as stipulated in the minutes of the KMT-CCP talks, was to “end the period of tutelage and inaugurate constitutional rule”; according to President Truman’s declaration, it was “a national meeting of representatives from China’s major political factions, convened to agree upon measures ensuring fair and effective representation within the National Government. The U.S. administration regards this step as essential for reforming the Kuomintang’s system of tutelage—a temporary arrangement devised by Sun Yat-sen to guide China’s transition to democracy.” One must ask: if the Political Consultative Conference was neither intended nor capable of ending the Kuomintang’s authoritarian tutelage nor of replacing the interim constitution and organic law governing the National Government that emerged during that era, then what purpose did it serve, and what meaning could it possibly hold? The interim constitution in question was the product of a sham congress convened by Chiang Kai-shek in May 1921, following his abortive coup attempt in March of that year. In his opening address to this farcical gathering, Chiang openly espoused fascism while denouncing democracy. He stated: “Fascist political theory, rooted in the philosophy of superindividualism and grounded in the doctrine of the state as a living organism, advocates corporatist organization and posits the state as the supreme entity, entitled to demand any sacrifice from its citizens in the interest of the nation’s survival, irrespective of immediate welfare considerations. Power, in this view, coexists with society without hierarchy; whoever occupies the highest stage of evolutionary development exercises the most effective rule… Liberal democratic theory, by contrast, begins with individualism and the inherent rights of the person, asserting that sovereignty belongs to all the people and that individual liberty should take precedence. In Britain and the United States, where such traditions have deep historical roots, the populace has grown accustomed to exercising political rights, albeit sometimes with a sense of sluggishness; nevertheless, this process can still proceed. Were similar reforms attempted in countries lacking such social and institutional precedents, the turmoil that preceded Mussolini’s rise to power in Italy would serve as a cautionary example. The weaknesses of parliamentary systems abroad have been fully exposed, leaving scholars perplexed. Freedom must always be accompanied by responsibility; otherwise, the air would be thick with competing voices, and no one could be held accountable—surely the most lamentable outcome conceivable… Urgent national crises demand leadership by individuals unversed in politics, and such challenges can be met only through the exercise of more efficient forms of governance. Moreover, since fascism is defined as a transitional phase distinct from fascist ideology itself, China ought to designate fascism as a transitional stage, differentiating it from the theoretical doctrines of fascism. For it is evident that China has passed from Chiang’s fascist tutelage to a form of constitutional rule—one that is neither the sluggish, “painful” parliamentary democracy of the West nor the ideal envisioned by Sun Yat-sen.” Under this fascist-inspired interim constitution, on the one hand, “by virtue of the law” the people were stripped of all freedoms (Articles 8, 9, 10, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, and 17); on the other, it was proclaimed that “the period of tutelage shall be governed by the Kuomintang National Congress, acting as a central coordinating body,” and that “when the National Congress adjourns, its powers shall devolve upon the Kuomintang Central Executive Committee” (Article 30), thereby enshrining one-party rule in stark terms. The Organic Law of the National Government, promulgated pursuant to this constitution, stipulates in Article 15: “The presidents and vice-presidents of the five departments of the National Government shall be nominated by the Chairman of the National Government from among the members of the National Government and appointed by the Kuomintang Central Executive Committee. The Chairman of the National Government shall be responsible to the Central Executive Committee, while the departmental presidents shall be accountable to the Chairman.” Thus, the nation’s highest authority is reduced to a single Kuomintang organ—the Central Executive Committee—and every member of that committee, by decision of the Sixth Kuomintang Plenary Meeting, is required to swear an oath pledging “to faithfully obey the directives of the party chairman; should I violate this oath, I am prepared to accept the harshest disciplinary sanctions imposed by the party.” Consequently, his so-called “fundamental national law” takes the following form: All citizens are obliged to submit “by virtue of the law” to the National Government; the National Government must obey Chairman Chiang; Chairman Chiang, in turn, is bound by the decisions of the Central Executive Committee; and each member of that committee must likewise swear unwavering loyalty to the chairman. In short, the entire population is consigned to the status of fourth-level serfs under Chiang Kai-shek’s personal dictatorship! In his April 1 address, Chiang sought to compel the Chinese people to continue recognizing the sanctity of this interim constitution and the Organic Law of the National Government, urging all democratic parties to participate in his National Government so that they might, via the “transitional phase” of fascist tutelage, eventually arrive at his fascist constitutional order; otherwise, he warned, his government would “never acknowledge” the Political Consultative Conference, for in his view, without fascism, “the nation would descend into chaos.” The reason Chiang insists on maintaining this fascist dictatorship today is not, as he claims, to preserve some tenuous legal legitimacy for another month or two, but rather to ensure its perpetuation far into the future. This sinister intent is clearly reflected in his arguments regarding constitutional matters. Chiang and his allies are determined to overturn the Political Consultative Conference’s resolution on the principles underlying a new constitution, dismissing it as a mere “reference document” devoid of any binding force for Chiang and the Kuomintang, despite the fact that the resolution was adopted unanimously at the Conference. Instead, they advocate basing the constitution on a specific founding charter, oppose the establishment of a bicameral legislature, insist that the Legislative Yuan should wield no power of consent or censure over the Executive Yuan, that the Control Yuan should likewise lack such powers, and that provinces need not adopt their own constitutions as Sun Yat-sen had advocated. Yet Chiang portrays this stance as evidence of “earnest commitment to implementing the resolution” and “patient, compromising efforts to accommodate differing views.” The vocabulary employed by Chiang could scarcely be more revealing! The five principles he champions at the Kuomintang plenary meetings are plainly designed to thwart “painful” parliamentary democracy, enabling him to maintain his fascist dictatorship—characterized by the Executive Yuan’s unchecked authority and the National Congress’s hollow ceremonial functions—while evading oversight by the Legislative Yuan, the Control Yuan, and the provincial governments. Beyond that, they serve no other purpose.  From the outset, the Kuomintang’s fascist reactionaries have opposed the ceasefire agreement, the Political Consultative Conference, and the troop-reduction plan; all of these achievements, however, were attained through resistance to fascist reaction. It is therefore hardly surprising that the reactionaries now strive to reverse them. Notably, Chiang had, for a time, outwardly expressed support for these accords, only to now personally align himself with the reactionary camp and attack and tear them apart. The reactionaries believe that such subversion may attract international backing; accordingly, they have massively reinforced their forces in the Northeast, escalating the war with impunity, while elsewhere—in regions such as Central Hebei, Northern Jiangsu, Shanxi, and Northern Henan—they are mounting bold challenges: rather than restoring normal communications, they are openly constructing additional bunkers; rather than disbanding puppet forces, they are actively recruiting more; in Shanxi, they continue to arm enemy troops; and instead of demobilizing, they openly proclaim that “demobilization marks the beginning of mobilization,” predicting a nationwide civil war within a matter of months, all while openly defying the Beijing Joint Military Commission and the Tripartite Commission. Politically, they are recklessly undermining all resolutions of the Political Consultative Conference, intensifying terror campaigns across the country, plotting the secret assassination of prominent political prisoners, and publicly extolling the “remarkable achievements” of their criminal intelligence apparatus. Most brazenly, they are pushing for the adoption of a dictatorial constitution through the National Congress, aiming to return China to the state of affairs prevailing before January of this year. These developments demand the utmost vigilance from the Chinese people. We hereby issue a stern warning to Chiang Kai-shek and the fascist reactionaries: You once accepted the ceasefire agreement, the resolutions of the Political Consultative Conference, and the troop-reduction plan primarily because of international pressure. Now that this pressure has temporarily eased, you seem intent on reverting to your old ways. This line of thinking is fundamentally flawed—not only because you have failed to grasp the broader international context, but also because you have grossly underestimated the strength of the Chinese people. The Chinese people are resolved to oppose the reinforcement of troops in the Northeast, to put an end to the civil war there and elsewhere, to defend the democratic rights of the Northeastern people and of all Chinese citizens, to bring an end to the Kuomintang’s dictatorial tutelage, to secure full implementation of the Political Consultative Conference’s resolutions, and to achieve a democratic constitution—one that establishes a fully empowered legislature, grants the Legislative Yuan the power of consent and censure over the Executive Yuan, confers similar powers upon the Control Yuan, and permits provinces to adopt their own constitutions without conflicting with the national charter, which shall remain inviolable. They are equally committed to the complete demobilization and nationalization of the Kuomintang’s armed forces and stand ready to wage an unrelenting struggle to realize these goals. For the Chinese people, peace and democracy are hard-won achievements, not gifts bestowed by any individual, Chinese or foreign. And such gains can be preserved and consolidated only through sustained, disciplined struggle. Should the fascist reactionaries persist in their destructive course, the Chinese people already know how to respond appropriately. (April 6, 1957)