Following Wedemeyer’s statement, the Kuomintang clique has been staging a series of performances over several days, clearly indicating that the U.S.-Kuomintang tandem is acting out a double act reminiscent of the Shanghai Grand World variety shows—Lu Qiqi and Zhang Xixi. The American imperialists well know that “corruption” and “incompetence” are inseparable from the Chiang regime; thus, expecting this ulcer-ridden Chiang Kai-shek to carry out “reform” is like trying to thread a needle with a large camel. Why, then, does Uncle Sam, who constantly talks about “practical efficiency,” insist that his protégé undertake an utterly impossible task? There can be only two reasons: first, to provide a pretext for the U.S. imperialist authorities so that, after giving the Kuomintang toilet seat a quick polish, they can brazenly pour arms and loans into Chiang’s bottomless pit; second, Wedemeyer’s feigned sternness, “impartiality,” and empty rhetoric about “the Chinese people’s yearning for peace” are all designed to mollify the mounting anger among both the Chinese and American peoples toward U.S. imperialism and the putrid Chiang regime.

On the 17th, the American journal Science Bulletin let slip the real agenda: “Wedemeyer’s statement did not close the door to aid for Chiang against the Communists.” Meanwhile, The New York Times bluntly declared: “Under ‘Chairman’ Chiang, many capable ‘authorities’ and staff members are ‘absolutely’ qualified to effect reform.” In plain terms, Chiang Kai-shek and the Four Big Families are fine—indeed, they are “authorities”; it is only the rank-and-file bureaucrats and personnel of “local government organs” who are “incompetent,” and they merely need a bit of “reform.” Once the madam has sung her part, the courtesans follow suit, led by Sun Ke and Wu Tiecheng, putting on a refined show titled “Eradicating Corruption” and “Strictly Enforcing Regulations Against Corruption.” This arrangement has several tacit advantages: various factions can use the occasion to settle scores with their rivals, while at the same time “cleansing corruption” can be touted as having achieved “remarkable results.” Henceforth, we may witness numerous farcical episodes—Huangpu officials denouncing each other or the Zhongzheng School dragging in the Kong-Song clique—and when the madam remains dissatisfied, she will return to the stage once more, followed by what amounts to a “reshuffle”: clowns playing leading roles and painted-face actresses taking on female parts.

According to an Associated Press dispatch dated the 27th: “Wedemeyer’s criticisms will be thoroughly digested by the KMT Central Committee, which will soon convene to partially reorganize the KMT-controlled ‘United Government.’” Sun Ke went even further, telling a Central News Agency reporter in Guangzhou: “Mr. Sun dispelled any misunderstandings regarding Wedemeyer’s statement and the apprehension that the United States might completely halt aid to China under Chiang. He emphasized that the chief mission of the ‘special envoy’ was to determine how best the United States should assist China.” Consequently, Wu Tiecheng was moved to tears, exclaiming, “Wedemeyer’s remarks were frank and sincere.” Thus, what Wedemeyer pointed out was nothing more than a staged double act, with Sun Ke delivering the climactic performance. Wedemeyer’s grand pronouncements on “peace,” however, had a primary objective: to buy time for Chiang to reorganize and re-equip his forces in preparation for another offensive. Yet he knew that achieving this goal would be exceedingly difficult, so he settled for a secondary aim: first, to maintain the inseparability of aid to Chiang and the civil war, and of the volume of aid from the scale of the conflict; but this required a pretext to persuade domestic financial interests in the United States, wary of pouring money into a bottomless pit, to continue their support. Second, in order to preserve Uncle Sam’s prestige, some admonition was necessary—but overly harsh words risked sowing “despicable defeatism” among the troops and undermining morale internally. Therefore, a carefully orchestrated spectacle was needed: to reassure the bosses above and to boost the spirits of the foot soldiers below. This required different voices, distinct from those of the usual suspects like Chungking or Huangpu, speaking with slightly altered tones. It was as if the star attraction at a modern zoo consisted of humans interacting with animals: after the courtesan had performed, Sun Ke appeared in the guise of a monkey. While Wedemeyer sang from behind the curtain, “Let us make peace,” Sun Ke rolled across the stage, shouting, “Strike! Strike!” “Only force can crush the Communists.” There is a clear distinction between the openly fascist Chiang Kai-shek proclaiming, “Once the fighting ends, it ends,” and Sun Ke, masquerading as a “liberal,” advocating “fighting to the bitter end.” Following this, we can expect the madam to take the stage once again, bringing with her cash and weapons. The reporter concludes: Wedemeyer’s reputation has collapsed on all fronts, just as the Chiang regime has been declared bankrupt on every level. Ultimately, this signifies the final bankruptcy of a troupe of courtesan-monkeys like Sun Ke. The people will consign them to eternal oblivion, having already driven them to complete ruin.