Talk with Music Workers
(August 24, 1956)

Source: Wenyi luxian, pp. 6–9. Other Chinese Texts: Wansui (n.d.), pp. 37–40;
Wansui (n.d. 3), pp. 106–109; Ziliao xuanbian, pp. 174–176; RMRB (Sept. 9, 1979),
1; Mao zhuzuo xuandu, II, pp. 745–753; Wenyi yulu, pp. 56–57 (excerpts); Xinwen
zhanbao, 4 (May 23, 1967) (excerpt); Wenyi hongqi, 5 (May 30, 1967), 3 (excerpt);
Shengping ziliao, p. 335 (excerpt); Meishu fenglei, 3 (Aug. 1967) (excerpt).
Available English Translations: S. Schram (1974), pp. 84–90; BR, 22:37 (Sept. 14,
1979), 9–15; SCMP, 4000 (Aug. 14, 1967), 17 (excerpt).

According to the Wenyi luxian source, this is a talk that Mao had with leading members of
the All-China Federation of Music Workers and other personnel in the musical circles on
August 24, 1956, and the transcript as reproduced in this source had not been inspected by
Mao and was allegedly subject to further study and revision. Of our various sources here,
the Wansui (n.d.), Wansui (n.d. 3), and Ziliao xuanbian text are similar to the Wenyi luxian
document. The RMRB transcript, while it provides generally similar information, is completely different in structure from the Wenyi luxian version and may indeed represent the
“study and revision” hinted at in the latter. The Mao zhuzuo xuandu document is a reprint
of the RMRB version, which was released very much later, while Schram’s and the other translated excerpts follow the Wenyi luxian
version. The RMRB/BR version, according to the sources, is reproduced on the basis of
notes and records taken by people present at this conversation. Since the RMRB source and
the BR translation of it are much more easily accessible to the reader, the Wenyi luxian
source is generally unavailable, even though Schram’s translation is accessible. We have
therefore made our independent translation only of the latter, here presented as Version I.
To allow our readers to easily compare the two versions, we are reproducing the BR
translation, as it appeared in that publication, as Version II. This reproduction, in some
places, consists also of our own additional annotations, which do not appear in BR.
However, subjects annotated in Version I will generally not be annotated in Version II.

Version I

The arts of the different nationalities in the world work under the same fundamental principle, though each differs from the other in terms of form and style. The
arts of all the socialist countries have socialism as their content, but each also has
its own national character. There is commonality and there is difference; there is
generality and there is individuality; this is a law of nature. It holds true for all
matters, regardless of [whether they fall into] the realms of nature, or of society, or
the realm of the intellect. Take the leaves of a tree; they look generally the same at
first sight, but they are different from each other when examined closely. It is

JULY—SEPTEMBER 1956 / 95

impossible to find two leaves that are completely identical.
Class struggle, socialist revolution, and the transition from capitalism to socialism in all the various countries share the same fundamental principles. But, under
the direction of [these] fundamental principles, each country varies from the next
in terms of minor principles and the forms in which [the principles] are manifested.
The October Revolution and the Chinese Revolution are a case in point. The two
revolutions were similar with respect to fundamental principles, but they had many
differences in terms of the forms they took. For example, in terms of revolutionary
development, in Russia it was from the cities to the countryside, while in our
country, it was from the countryside to the cities.1 This is one of the many
differences between these two revolutions.
The art of each nationality in the world has its own unique national form and
national style. [However,] some people do not understand this. They reject their
own national characteristics and blindly worship the West; they hold that everything in the West is better and even going to the extent of advocating “wholesale
Westernization.”2 This is incorrect. Complete Westernization is infeasible; it will
not be accepted by the common people of China. Art is different from natural
science. For example, medical treatments such as appendectomies and taking
aspirin do not have a national form. But art is different; art involves a question of
national form. This is because art is the expression of the way of life, thought, and
feelings of the people and is closely related to the national custom and language.
Its historical development carries with it a hereditary nature within the framework
of the nation.
China’s art—China’s music, painting, drama, song and dance, and literature has
its own history of development. In order to negate Chinese things, those who
advocate “wholesale Westernization” assert that Chinese things do not have laws
of their own; [therefore] they are unwilling to study and develop Chinese things.
This is an attitude of national nihilism toward China’s art.
Every nation in the world has its own history, its own strong points and
weaknesses. [All] things in history are divided into the pure and the dross, which
mingle together and accumulate over long periods of time. It is a difficult task to
sort them out and distinguish the pure from the dross. But we cannot discard history
because of this difficulty. To cut history up and throw away all [our] heritage will
not do; the common people would not approve of it.
This, of course, definitely does not mean that we have no need to learn from
foreign countries. There are many foreign things that we must study and, moreover,
must study well. Basic theory, in particular, must be studied well. Some people
advocate Chinese learning as essence, and Western learning for utility.3 Is this idea
correct? No, it is wrong. The so-called “learning” is nothing but fundamental
theory. And fundamental theory is the same for China as for foreign countries.
There should be no distinction between China and the West [in this regard].
The fundamental theory of Marxism originated in the West, but does that mean
that a distinction can be made between China and the West in this connection? Is
it possible for us not to accept it? The practice of the Chinese revolution has proven
that not accepting Marxism would be detrimental to our own interest. Besides, there


is no reason not to accept it. In the past, the Second International once tried to negate
and revise the fundamental principles of Marxism and put forward certain arguments to explain the negations and revisions.4 [But] all of these were refuted by
Lenin. Marxism is a universally applicable general truth, and we must accept it.
Nonetheless, this general truth must also be integrated with the concrete practice
of revolution in different countries. It is precisely because the Chinese people had
accepted Marxism and integrated it with the practice of the Chinese revolution that
they achieved victory in the Chinese revolution.
Studying foreign things is for the purpose of studying and developing Chinese
things. In this respect the natural sciences and the social sciences are the same. We
must make a good study of all good foreign things, and after mastering them, we
must develop them [further] in the process of applying them. In the field of natural
science, we must also do innovative and creative work; we must also use modern
scientific knowledge and methods from abroad to put China’s scientific heritage
in order until we form China’s own schools of thought. Take, for example, Western
medical science and other related modern sciences such as physiology, pathology,
biochemistry, bacteriology, and anatomy; can you say we do not need to study
them? We must study all these modern sciences. But some of those who have
studied Western medicine must also study Chinese medicine and must use modern
scientific knowledge and methods to put our ancient Chinese medicine and Chinese
pharmacology in order and to study them, so that by combining the knowledge of
Chinese and Western medicine and pharmacology they can create a new and
unified Chinese medical and pharmaceutical science.5
If this is the case with the natural and social sciences, it is naturally even more
so with the arts. We must learn from foreign countries and absorb all their fine
things. But what we learn from foreign countries must be used for the purpose of
studying and developing the art of the various nationalities in China; otherwise our
research and development [efforts] will have no object. In learning from the arts
of foreign countries and studying their fundamental theory and technique, our
objective is to create for the various nationalities of China their own new socialist
art that bears their particular national form and style.
We must admit that in regard to modern culture, the West is at a higher level
than we are, and we have lagged behind. Is this [also] the case with [our] art? In
art, we have both our strong points and our weak points. We must be good at
absorbing the fine things from foreign countries in order to overcome our own weak
points. It would be no good if we stopped moving forward and held fast to the old
ways, and if we did not study and introduce foreign literature, or if we did not know
how to listen to or how to play foreign music. Do not behave like Empress Dowager
Cixi who blindly rejected everything foreign.6 The blind rejection of all foreign
things is in no way different from the blind worship of them. Both are incorrect and
harmful.
Regarding the issue of learning from foreign countries, we must oppose both
conservatism and dogmatism. Politically we have suffered setbacks because of
dogmatism. Copying and rigidly transplanting everything from a foreign country
resulted in a great defeat; the Party organizations in the white areas were 100 per

JULY—SEPTEMBER 1956 / 97

cent destroyed, the revolutionary bases and the Red Army were reduced by 90 per
cent, and the victory of revolution in China was delayed for many years.7 The
reason for this is that some comrades did not take reality, but took dogmatism, as
their point of departure, failing to integrate the fundamental theory of Marxism-
Leninism with the concrete practice of the Chinese revolution. Had we not got rid
of this kind of dogmatism, we would not have been able to achieve the victory of
the Chinese revolution today.
We should also learn this lesson in the area of art and take care not to suffer
reverses from dogmatism. Studying foreign things is not the same as importing
everything and rigidly transplanting foreign practices. They should be absorbed
critically. We learn from the ancients for [the good of] the people today, and we
learn from the foreigners for [the good of] the Chinese people.
We should really master the good things from foreign countries as well as the
good things in China. Half bottles of vinegar are no good; we must change two half
bottles into two full bottles.8 We must thoroughly study both the good things in
China and the good things from foreign countries, and must combine the two sides
into an organic whole. This was the case with Lu Xun. He was familiar with things
both foreign and Chinese, but his brilliance lay primarily in his creative work rather
than his translation.9 His creative work is different not only from foreign works but
also from the old-style Chinese writings, but it is [still] Chinese. We should learn
from Lu Xun’s spirit and try to have a thorough command of both Chinese
and foreign, absorbing the strengths of both Chinese and foreign arts, fusing them
together to create a new art with a unique national form and national style.
Of course it is not easy to effectively combine Chinese and foreign things. It
requires a process. It is possible to blend some foreign things in with Chinese things.
Take the writing of novels, for example. The language, characters, and background
must be Chinese, but the novels do not need to be written in the [traditional]
installment form of zhang and hui.10 We can also produce a few things that are
neither Chinese nor Western. [One may say that] it is neither horse nor donkey, but
there is nothing wrong with becoming a mule.11 When two sides are combined,
their form will change. It is impossible for them to remain completely unchanged.
Chinese things will change. No matter whether in the political, economic, or
cultural [sphere], the face of China is undergoing a tremendous change. But
whatever the change, Chinese things still should have their own special features.
Foreign things are also changing. The face of the world underwent a fundamental
change after the October Revolution. This change has further developed since the
Second World War. We must pay attention to absorbing foreign things in a critical
manner, especially things from the socialist world and things from the progressive
peoples of the capitalist world.
In sum, art must have its own independent creative qualities; it must be marked
with a clear-cut national character and a character of the times. On no account
should China’s art, as more effort is spent on it, relapse more and more into the old
[style] or become more and more Westernized. With more effort, it should take on
more and more the characteristics of its own time and national [identity]. In this
regard we should not be squeamish about “creating things that are novel and


extraordinary.” Especially in a country like China, which has a long history and a
large population, it is even more necessary [to create] “novel and extraordinary”
things that will meet the needs of the various nationalities of China. The more things
of this “novel and extraordinary” type, which are welcomed by the common
people of the various nationalities of China, the better. We do not want uniformity,
for uniformity will end up in [stereotyped works like] the eight-legged essay.12 And
all stereotyped works, no matter whether indigenous or foreign, are lifeless things
and are not welcomed by the common people of China.
Here the problem of dealing with bourgeois intellectuals who have received a
Western education arises. This problem, if mishandled, will have an adverse effect
not only on the cause of art, but also on the revolutionary cause as a whole. China’s
national bourgeoisie13 and its intellectuals consist of a few million people. They are
not great in number, but they possess a modern culture. We definitely should unite
with them and educate and reform them. The comprador class has [its] culture, which
is a slave culture. The landlord class also has [its] culture, which is a feudal culture.
Having been oppressed for a long time, the Chinese workers and peasants do not yet
have much culture or knowledge. Comparatively speaking, the bourgeois intellectuals
will have a higher [level of] knowledge and skill with regard to modern culture and
technology until such time as a cultural revolution and a technical revolution are
realized. Provided our policy is correct and we are able to educate and reform them,
they can be made to serve the cause of socialism. Can we get them educated and
reformed? Yes, we can. Many of us present here were bourgeois intellectuals in the
past but have switched over from the side of the bourgeoisie to the side of the
proletariat. So why can’t they switch over too? As a matter of fact, many of them have
already switched over. Therefore we must definitely unite with them and educate and
reform them. Only if we do this can the revolutionary cause of the working class and
the socialist revolution and socialist construction of today be benefited.14
You who are present are all musicians studying Western music, and you have
many important responsibilities. Putting Chinese music in order and developing it
depends on you who study Western music, just as putting Chinese medicine in
order and developing it depends on doctors who study Western medicine. The
Western things you have learned are useful; only you ought to study things on both
sides well, Chinese as well as Western, and must not advocate “wholesale
Westernization.” You should emphasize things Chinese and work hard to study
and develop them, with the aim of creating a set of Chinese things with a national
form and style uniquely its own. Once you have grasped this basic orientation, your
work will have greater prospects.

Version II

The fundamental principles of socialist revolution are the same for all countries.
But things are different with respect to minor principles and the forms in which the
fundamental principles are manifested. For example, the principles of war are the
same; they involve attack and defense, advance and retreat, victory and defeat. But
in the waging of war there are differences, and indeed many differences, as to how

JULY—SEPTEMBER 1956 / 99

to attack or how to defend. In the War to Resist U.S. [Aggression] and Aid Korea,
the two sides fought to a stalemate along the 38th parallel.15 This was a form rarely
seen before. Revolution certainly takes a variety of forms. The October Revolution
and the Chinese revolution were different in many respects. In the Soviet Union
the revolution developed from the cities to the countryside, while in our country it
developed from the countryside to the cities.
The fundamental principles of the arts are universal, but their forms of expression should be varied and there should be national forms and national styles. Take
the leaves of a tree; at first sight they look much the same, but upon close
examination each one is different. There is individuality as well as universality,
dissimilarity as well as similarity. This is a law of nature and likewise a law of
Marxism. This should also hold for composing music, for song and dance.
To say that things Chinese do not have their own laws is to negate them, and
this is wrong. The Chinese language, Chinese music, and Chinese painting all have
their own laws. Those people who spoke ill of Chinese painting just hadn't made
a thorough study of their own things, and they thought they had to use the methods
employed in Western painting. Of course, you can first learn things foreign before
moving on to things Chinese. But things Chinese have their own laws. In music
you may apply appropriate foreign principles and use foreign musical instruments.
But still there must be national characteristics. We must have our own distinctive
style, something that is unique.
“Complete Westernization” of the arts has little chance of being accepted. It’s
better to take Chinese art as the basis and engage in our own creative activity while
absorbing some foreign things. You can try all sorts of things now; you can take
your pick. You have to learn many things from foreign countries and learn them
well. You can thus broaden your horizons. But the Chinese people won’t welcome
any mechanical transplanting of things foreign into our Chinese art. The case is
different with medicine. Western medicine is really effective in curing illness.
There is no question of national form in operating on the stomach, removing the
appendix, or taking aspirin. Nor has the use of Chinese angelica and rhubarb
anything to do with national form. But there is a question of form, of national form,
in the arts. The arts are inseparable from the customs, the feelings, and even the
language of the people, from the history of the nation. There is a large measure of
national conservatism in the arts that can persist for even thousands of years.
Ancient art can still be appreciated by later generations.
We should get acquainted with foreign things and read foreign books. That
doesn’t mean that Chinese people have to do things in exactly the same way as
foreigners, nor does it mean that what is written by a Chinese must read like a
translation. For Chinese people our own things should remain primary.
Of course, we favor music with a national character. As Chinese we would be
in the wrong to do otherwise. But surely we ought not to have the suona horn or
the huqin16 fiddle in our military bands; just as in the case of military uniforms,
today we wear the present style and not those jackets with the character for “brave”
on the back and front.17 That’s not the way national styles are cultivated. Musical
instruments are tools. Whether a tool is good or bad is of course important, but what


is essential is how one uses it. We can make use of foreign musical instruments but
must not copy foreign music in our musical composition.
There are 2.7 billion people on this earth, and it simply wouldn’t do if all were
to sing one tune. Every nationality, East or West, should have things of its own.
The Western countries have developed capitalism and have played a role in history.
Now the attention of the world is gradually turning toward the East. Would it be
right for the countries of the East not to create their own things?
We can also produce some works that are neither Chinese nor foreign in style
as long as there are people who enjoy them. Some people have advocated complete
Westernization, but this can’t be done. The fundamentals of Marxism-Leninism
ought to be accepted. It is neither reasonable nor advantageous to reject them. In
the past the Second International denied these fundamentals, but Lenin refuted its
arguments. China also had its “Second International”—Jiang Kanghu’s Socialist
Party—but it had very little influence.18 The forms in which the fundamental
principles of Marxism-Leninism are manifested in practice should differ from
country to country. In China these principles must be integrated with the actual
conditions of the Chinese revolution. The October Revolution had the national
characteristics of a Russian revolution. Socialist in content and national in form—
this is the way it is in art as well as in politics. The general principles of Western
music must be integrated with Chinese conditions. This will give rise to richer
modes of expression.
Chinese bean curd, bean sprouts, preserved eggs, and Beijing duck are Chinese
specialties, and no other country can compare in their production; they can be
spread internationally. Cuisine and clothing differ from country to country. What
is worn in India is quite different from what is worn in China, and it is suited to the
Indian environment. Chinese people eat with chopsticks while Western people use
knives and forks. It wouldn’t make sense to say that it is wiser and more scientific
to use knives and forks and backward to use chopsticks.
It’s always necessary to pay attention to history. A long history has its advantages and disadvantages. The history of the United States is short, and perhaps there
is some advantage in that, for burdens are lighter and it isn’t necessary to remember
so many things. We have a long history, which has its advantages, too. If we were
to throw out our old traditions, people would call it traitorous. You can’t chop off
history even if you want to. There’s no getting around it. And yet it is really rather
troublesome to look back over such a long history.
We must learn scientific principles from foreign countries. And we learn these
principles in order to apply them in the study of things Chinese. That’s why we ask
our doctors trained in Western medicine to study traditional Chinese medicine. We
must learn the general principles of both the natural and the social sciences. The
composition of water, the fact that man has evolved from the ape, these are the
same for all countries. But what about the arts? Chinese music, dancing, and
painting have their own laws, but we find it hard to explain them because we haven’t
studied well enough. We should first learn modern things from foreign countries
and then use what we have learned to study things Chinese. If we first study Western
medical science, anatomy, pharmacology, etc., and then go on to study traditional

JULY—SEPTEMBER 1956 / 101

Chinese medicine and pharmacology, it should be possible for us to grasp things
Chinese more quickly. Marx said that it would be easier to understand ancient
society if modern society was studied first. This means reversing the sequence, but
it saves time.
The trouble with handicraft art is that it’s hard to attract our artists. They look
down on Chinese folk art. There’s a problem of interest here. We should try to
arouse their interest gradually. They may not be persuaded right away, so we must
keep up our efforts over a long period of time.
We must oppose dogmatism politically. We have suffered from dogmatism politically.
Everything was learned from Russia and was turned into dogma. This resulted in
a great defeat; we lost practically everything in the white areas and 90 per cent of
the base areas and of the Red Army, and the victory of the revolution was delayed
a good many years. And all this because dogmas, rather than realities, were taken
as the starting point. The dogmatists failed to integrate the fundamental principles
of Marxism-Leninism with the concrete practice of the Chinese revolution. Al-
though they said that the Chinese revolution was a democratic revolution, they
wanted to overthrow all capitalists. Their approach was wrong; their realm was no
longer that of a democratic revolution but that of a socialist revolution. They didn’t
know the difference. They were wrong in their revolutionary methods and in their
handling of inner-Party relations, and as a result, the revolution suffered grave
losses. Dogmatism must be opposed. If it isn’t, the revolution can’t triumph.
If the problems of the bourgeoisie and the intellectuals aren’t handled well, the
revolutionary cause will be adversely affected. In its treatment of the bourgeoisie,
China has been different from the Soviet Union. Although China’s bourgeoisie and
their intellectuals are few in number, they have modern culture, and we still need
to unite with them. The landlord class also has culture, but it’s an archaic culture,
not a modern one. They can compose a few classical poems and write some essays
in the Tong Cheng style,19 but these are of no use today. Speaking of workers and
peasants, the workers have relatively more culture. They have some technical skills
but still can’t serve as engineers, and they fall somewhat short of the bourgeoisie
and intellectuals in culture. We can’t say the peasants have no culture—intensive
farming, the singing of folksongs, and dancing are also culture. But the majority
of them are illiterate and have no modern culture or technical skills. They can wield
hoes and plows but can’t use tractors. In terms of modern culture and technology,
the bourgeoisie is ahead of the other classes, and hence we must unite with them
and transform them. Some bourgeois culture is outdated and can’t be used, but
much of it can. Among musicians, there are many who, in ideology, belong to the
bourgeoisie. It was the same with us in the past. But we’ve changed over. Why
can’t they do so too? In fact, many already have. Uniting with them is in the interest
of the revolutionary cause of the working class. We must unite with them, help
them to remold themselves, and win them over. You may all be regarded as Western
doctors; you’ve all studied Western music. We must rely on you. Asking old-style
minstrels to run specialized music schools won’t do. We must rely on you to do
this.
The Chinese revolution has Chinese characteristics. The revolution in Russia


took the form it did because there was no other alternative. Lenin did think of other
ways of dealing with the bourgeoisie.20 But at the time, the bourgeoisie didn't
believe the Bolshevik Party would win, so they put up resistance. What's more, at
first the proletariat had no army, and there were only 80,000 Party members. Our
situation was different from that in the Soviet Union. China was not an imperialist
country. We had fought for more than twenty years. We had an army and two
million Party members. And the Chinese national bourgeoisie was also oppressed
by imperialism. That's why the Chinese revolution took a different form.
It is only natural that forms of expression should be varied. This applies to the
arts as well as to politics. Certainly big countries like China should create things
new and original, but these should appeal to the masses. The greater the number of
these popular creations, the better, and they shouldn't be all of a kind. Otherwise
this would lead to stereotypes. In the past, stereotyped writing was the fashion for
five or six hundred years. It's no good when only one form prevails everywhere.
The sameness in women's and men's clothing can't last. With victory in the
revolution women have shunned dressing up for a time, and this signifies a change
in the general social mood; this signifies revolution. This is fine, but it can't last.
It's better to have diversity.
National forms may incorporate some foreign elements. There's surely no need
to write novels in the old style with each chapter headed by a couplet giving the
gist. But the language and presentation should be Chinese. Lu Xun was for a
national style. But he also advocated very close translation. Personally, I'm for very
close translation of theoretical works because it has the advantage of accuracy.
We should be clear on this fundamental idea: It is also necessary to learn basic
principles from the West. To insist that the scalpel must be in the Chinese style is
absurd. As far as medicine is concerned, we should use the modern science of the
West to study the laws of traditional Chinese medicine so as to develop China's
new medicine. The basic principles of music are the same in all countries. But
they're put into practice differently, and their forms of expression should vary.
Consider the writing of travel diaries. Suppose we go on an excursion to the
Western Hills21 together. The places we visit are the same, and yet what each of us
writes about them will be different.
It's necessary to learn all that is good in foreign countries. In medicine, for
example, we should study bacteriology, biochemistry, anatomy, and pathology. It's
also necessary to learn all that is good in China. We should pay due attention to
things Chinese; otherwise, much of our research will serve no purpose. In Chinese
history there were a good many things that haven't been passed down. Emperor
Ming of the Tang dynasty was a poor emperor; during the first half of his reign he
was up to his job, but in the second half he was a flop.22 He did understand the arts.
He was a director of plays and he knew how to play the drum, but his skills weren't
passed down. We must depend on you. You are "Western doctors," but there
should be sinification. When you have mastered a certain subject, you should apply
it to the study of things Chinese and thus make what you've learned Chinese.
It's no good if you lose confidence in things Chinese once you've studied things
foreign. But this is not to say that you shouldn't learn from foreign countries.

JULY—SEPTEMBER 1956 / 103

In modern culture, foreign countries are more advanced than we are; this point
must be acknowledged. But is it the same for the arts? In some particulars China
has its distinctive qualities, while in others foreign countries excel. In novels,
foreign countries are ahead, while we have fallen behind. Lu Xun understood things
foreign as well as things Chinese, but he didn’t look down on things Chinese. Only
on Chinese medicine and Beijing opera were his views to some extent incorrect.
Chinese medicine couldn’t save his father. And he preferred local theater.
Confucius was an educator and a musician. He ranked music second among the
“six courses.”23
By absorbing the good points of foreign countries, we’ll be able to make our
own things leap ahead. The Chinese and the foreign should be combined and
become an organic whole, and there shouldn’t be indiscriminate use of things
foreign. When we learn the foreign method of making hats, we should use it to
make Chinese hats. Useful foreign things should all be learned and used to improve
and develop things Chinese, to create new things unique to China. We can borrow
a bit, but what is our own should be primary. We need Dead Souls,24 but we also
need The True Story of Ah Q.25 Lu Xun translated Dead Souls, “Destruction,”26
and so on; however, his brilliance didn’t lie primarily in translation but in his own
creative works.
Chinese culture should be developed. It’s bad not to be able to appreciate or
play foreign music. It’s wrong not to translate foreign works. It’s wrong to oppose
“foreign devils’” as the Empress Dowager Ci Xi did. We should learn from abroad
and use what we learn to create things Chinese.
Don’t be afraid to perform a little foreign music. Of the “nine categories” and
“ten categories” of music of the Sui and Tang dynasties, many came from Central
Asia and a few from Korea and India.27 The playing of foreign music hasn’t meant
the loss of our own music; our own music has continued to develop. If we can digest
foreign music and absorb its strong points, this will be beneficial to us. The
indiscriminate rejection and the wholesale absorption of Western culture are both
wrong.
We should keep on making things Chinese and not make them foreign. This
way, your controversy can be resolved. We must oppose dogmatism and conservatism. Neither will do China any good. Studying things foreign isn’t equivalent
to copying them all. We learn from the ancients to benefit the living, and we learn
from foreigners to benefit the Chinese people.
We must study each side well, the Chinese as well as the foreign. Doing two
things by half won’t do. We’ve got to take the two half measures and turn them
into two wholes.
This isn’t the same as taking “Chinese learning as the substance, Western
learning for practical use.”28 By “learning” we mean the basic principles, which
are applicable everywhere and shouldn’t be differentiated as “Chinese” or “foreign.” To be neither horse nor ass is also permissible. Mules are neither horses nor
asses. The union of horse and ass is bound to change the form; total avoidance of
change is impossible. The appearance of China, whether in politics, economy, or
culture, should change and not remain old-fashioned. But China’s characteristics


ought to be preserved. We should graft foreign things on to a basic Chinese stock.
They should be cross-bred and combined organically.
Western things will also change. Not all things Western are good, and it’s only
the good that we should take. We ought to critically assimilate useful elements from
the West on our own Chinese foundation.
In the assimilation of foreign things, they must be transformed and become
Chinese. Lu Xun’s novels certainly aren’t the same as foreign novels, nor are they
the same as ancient Chinese novels. They are contemporary Chinese novels.
You are students of Western things, “Western doctors” so to speak; you are
our treasures, and we should pay heed to you and rely on you. It’s wrong to exclude
those who study foreign things. It must be admitted that what they study is
advanced, that the modern West is one step ahead of us. To refuse to admit this and
just call them dogmatists won’t convince people. Dogmatism must be rectified—
but it must be rectified in the manner of “a gentle breeze and mild rain.”29 We
should pay heed to them, but at the same time we must persuade them to attach
importance to things Chinese and not to seek complete Westernization. We ought
to study the strong points of foreign countries and use them to sort out and
systematize things Chinese, to create things of our own with a unique national
flavor. Only thus can we clarify things and make sure that we don’t lose our national
confidence.

A talk given by Comrade Mao Zedong when he met with
leading comrades of the National Association of Musi-cians on August 24, 1956. This is a record made by those
comrades present at the meeting.

Notes

1. See text Aug. 12, 1953(1), vol. I, note 30.
2. The slogan “wholesale Westernization” reflected an important concept in the mental
struggle undertaken by the Chinese intelligentsia in the twentieth century to come to grips
with the reality of prolonged Western imperialist encroachment in China and with the
corresponding evolution in China’s view of its own cultural identity. In 1929 a number of
liberal thinkers, notably Hu Shi (for partial biographical information, see text Oct. 1954[1],
vol. I, note 1, and text Oct. 16, 1954, note 7) proposed that China, in order to catch up with
the goals of modernization, must undergo a thorough process of Westernization. In 1934–35,
under a different context, Hu proposed the slogan again. Thus, Hu has become identified as
the chief spokesman for “wholesale Westernization” in modern China.
The “wholesale Westernization” theorem stemmed from several major intellectual
debates since the late nineteenth century. A hotly debated review of this idea in conjunction
with the circumstances of the First World War and China’s own political chaos in the 1910s
and 1920s polarized Chinese intellectuals along the lines suggested by this idea of Western-ization. On one extreme there were those who believed in sustaining at all costs China’s own
cultural tradition. These were known as the guocui pai, or School of National Essence. A
slightly modified, though nonetheless “conservative” position was held by those such as
Liang Shuming (see text Sept 16–18, 1953, vol. I, note 1), who believed that although China’s
civilization needed to be modernized, there were fundamental qualitative differences between “philosophies East and West” and that China could not be modernized by means of
“Westernization.” Then there were also “Westernizers” of many different stripes. In the
debate, Hu’s vision of modernization through complete or wholesale Westernization stood,

JULY—SEPTEMBER 1956 / 105

at the time (i.e., in the late 1920s and early 1930s), at the other extreme.
The “wholesale Westernization” idea did not go very far, partially because within the
mainstream of the debate itself it was too radical and was rejected not only by traditionalists
but also by other Westernizers, and partially because it was misunderstood and was, in fact,
a misnomer. Hu Shi did not mean to suggest that the Chinese should totally obliterate all
that is Chinese culture and simply adopt, overnight, all that is Western. The idea of
“wholesale Westernization” can be understood for what it really was only by examining it
in conjunction with Hu’s antitraditionalism, and with another idea that Hu called at the time
“total cosmopolitanism.” Hu was primarily reacting against traditionalists who rejected,
out of hand, the notion that Western civilization, though technologically superior, had
anything of moral or social value to add to China’s cultural tradition. He advocated a
conscientious absorption rather than an indiscriminate transplantation of Western culture,
much less the substitution of Western civilization for China’s own. By “wholesale” he
meant “in all aspects,” and not in selected areas such as merely in technology. However,
quite unfortunately he did commit the semantic error of employing the term quanpan, which
means “wholesale,” rather than the more fitting term quanmian, which means “in all
aspects.” For a detailed discussion of this crucial intellectual issue—one that shaped much
of Mao Zedong’s own thinking—see J. Grieder (1970), parts II and III, and Lin Yusheng
(1979), chs. 2 and 3.

3. This sentence, zhongxue wei ti, xi xue wei yong in Chinese, was first suggested, in
anticipatory fashion, by the Qing scholar Feng Guifen (1809–1874) in his Jiaobinlu kangyi
(Personal Protests from the Study of Jiaobin), circa 1860. This idea (i.e., that Chinese
learning, together with its attending values and culture, should continue to form the base for
Chinese civilization as it moved into the modern world, but Western learning should be
imported and absorbed for its practical application, while not being allowed to make any
fundamental revisions to the Chinese framework) was popularized and given light in China’s “Self-strengthening” movement of the 1870s through the 1890s. In 1898, in his Quanxue bian
(Exhortation to Study), Zhang officially inaugurated the slogan.
As it evolved in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, this idea pandered both
to traditionalists who embraced a chauvinistic sense of China’s moral superiority and to more
moderate conservatives who somehow believed that cultural interchange between nations
could be managed purely on the technological front without impact on social and moral
elements.
For biographical information on Feng and Zhang, see A. Hummel, ed. (1943), pp.
241–243, 27–32. For a discussion of the role played by this idea in the “self-strengthening”
period, see S. Y. Teng and J. K. Fairbank (1954), chs. 5 and 10.

4. The Second International refers to the period of the development of the international socialist movement from 1889 to 1914. Unlike the “First International” (which
in turn refers to the international socialist movement marked by the history of the
International Working Men’s Association formed in 1864, which was dominated during
his lifetime by Marx and which declined in the late 1870s), the Second International
lacked a centralized structure and was marked only by a series of international socialist
congresses—at Brussels (1891), Zurich (1893), London (1896), Paris (1900), Amster-dam (1904), Stuttgart (1907), Copenhagen (1910), Basle (1912). (In 1889, however, the
Swiss government did propose an International Conference on Labor, and in 1900, after
the Paris Congress, an International Socialist Bureau was established.) The Second
International marked, at least for the period of its existence, the recession of the socialist
movement as a revolutionary, conspiratorial movement oriented toward the political
overthrow of existing bourgeois or semifeudal regimes, and toward greater
parliamentarianism. In the wake of the outbreak of the First World War, the movement
disintegrated, with only a handful of the subscribing nations remaining within the
structure, and more radicalized and communistic “parties” splitting off into the Third
(Leninist and Soviet Union—oriented) International and the splinter Vienna Interna-


tional. See S. F. Markham (1931), ch. 10, and G. D. H. Cole
III:2.
5. See texts Winter 1954; July 30, 1954; Oct. 20, 1954, and Wi
6. Mao is referring to the Empress Cixi (1835–1908) of the Qing dynasty, who was a
concubine of the Xianfeng Emperor (reigning 1851–1861) and rose to supreme power as
the mother of the Tongzhi Emperor. As empress dowager she held the reins of the Qing
government in her hands throughout the reigns of her son, the Tongzhi Emperor (reigning
1862–1874), and her nephew, the Guangxu Emperor (reigning 1875–1908). In 1889,
ostensibly because of ill health, she “relinquished” direct control of the administration to
Guangxu, who then, under the tutelage of reformers such as Kang Youwei, dabbled in a
program to liberalize politics to a certain extent. In 1898, when the reform programs were
just underway, Cixi resumed power, incarcerated Guangxu at Yingtai, imprisoned and
executed a number of reformers such as Kang Zhangren and Tan Sitong, and crushed the
“Hundred Days Reform” movement. In 1900 she also encouraged the Boxers in their attacks
on foreign things in China (see text Jan. 28, 1955[2], vol. I, note 3).
7. This refers to the defeats suffered by the Chinese Communists in 1933–1934 during
which time the KMT attacked the CPC base in Jiangxi and forced them to break out in the
Long March. (See text July 14, 1956, note 8, and text Feb. 19–24, 1953, vol. I, note 6.) These
setbacks, according to Mao, were the result of the erroneous leadership of the CPC under
people such as Wang Ming who were influenced by the instructors of the Comintern
conveyed by military advisers such as Otto Braun. (For Wang Ming, see text Aug. 12,
1953[1], vol. I, note 23, and text Apr. 1956, note 12.) Secondarily, this passage also refers
to the CPC leadership’s mistakes under Chen Duxiu, Qu Qiubai, and Li Lisan (see text Apr.
1956, notes 8 and 10).
8. Mao is referring to the Chinese aphorism: “A half-bottle of vinegar makes a lot of
noise; a full bottle does not.”
9. See text Apr. 25, 1956, note 10.
10. Traditional Chinese novels, such as Shuihu zhuan and Xiyou ji, were written in
installments, or chapters, known as zhang or hui. This was because this literary genre
grew out of the folktale storyteller’s art. In traditional China, folklore such as that
contained eventually in these novels was popularized by itinerant story tellers, who
would, in order to capture their audience’s attention and create business, stop sus-pensefully when they came to a climactic juncture in the story, entreating his audience
to “listen to the next hui (or installment),” in which the story would continue to unfold.
The allusion to “couplets” that Mao makes in the corresponding passage in Version II
of this document is in reference to the practice in these novels of rendering the title of
each chapter as two descriptive lines of equal length, summarizing the contents of the
chapter. Strictly these “chapter titles” are not couplets, since they are not usually poetic
and do not necessarily scan or rhyme. There is, however, also a practice of concluding
each chapter with a short poem, or sometimes with a poetic couplet that often conveys
the “moral” of the chapter.
11. The saying fei lu fei ma (neither a donkey nor a horse), which means “neither here
nor there,” is derived from the book “Xiyu zhuan” (Records of the Western Region) in the
Han Shu (History of the Han Dynasty).
12. The term ba gu wen (eight-stem writing), generally translated as “eight-legged
essay,” refers to the stilted form in which candidates in the imperial examinations from the
fifteenth century onward were obliged to cast their compositions. Since in traditional China
all scholars studied with the purpose of passing and excelling in the imperial examinations,
all scholarship and education became subjected to the strict format of writing these eightlegged essays and the term became synonymous with pedantry and formalism. In 1942, Mao
attacked the practice of writing stilted essays within the CPC. See text Dec. 27, 1955(2), vol.
I, note 106.
13. See text Mar. 12, 1950, vol. I, note 3.
14. See text Jan. 20, 1956.

JULY—SEPTEMBER 1956 / 107

15. See text Feb. 18, 1951, vol. I, note 1, and text Oct. 8, 1950, vol. I, note 1.
16. The suona is a woodwind (reed) instrument with a copper-clad, bugle-like stem
which originated among the Uighurs. It was introduced to China in the late Tang dynasty in
the late ninth century and was popularized during the Ming dynasty as a musical instrument
in the military.
The huqin (literally the instrument of the hu, or barbarian) is a stringed instrument that
originated among the Beifan tribe.
17. In the Qing dynasty, foot soldiers generally wore a short jacket with the Chinese
character yong (bravery) or the character Qing inscribed in a circle on the front and back.
In Wansui (n.d. 3), p. 109, we find, apart from the main body of the text for this speech
and under a separate heading as “Dui yinyue gongzuozhe de zhishi” (Instructions to Music
Workers), a paragraph that resembles the paragraph in Version II here. It reads:
“Of course, we favor music with a national character. As Chinese we would be in the
wrong to do otherwise. But surely we ought not to have the suona horn or the huqin fiddle
in our military bands; rather, we must make them philharmonic orchestras [in the Western
style]. We must promote music with a national character, but we should also have Western
philharmonic music because these things are fashionable throughout the world. This is like
when we wear military uniforms; today we wear the contemporary style; surely we can’t
wear those jackets with the characters for ‘brave’ written on the front and back. Even
[promoting] the national character does not mean going that way. Naturally, our military
uniforms are not the same as those of the Soviet Union; [ours] have the flavor of China’s
army.”
18. Jiang Kanghu (1883–1954) was an early Chinese socialist whose socialism was
deeply affected by his early acquaintance with the ideas of Henry George and with Japanese
socialists such as Kotoku Shoshui and Katayama Sen. In the early 1910s his socialist
activities and ideas were dominated by his concerns for the social liberation of Chinese
women. In 1911 he organized a socialist study society, which grew into the Chinese Socialist
Party, established in 1912 with headquarters in Shanghai. The program of the Party was
primarily intellectualist rather than politically activist. It was banned by Yuan Shikai in
1913. Jiang’s ideas also came under the attack of the anarchist Liu Sifu. From 1913 to 1920
Jiang was in the United States and taught Chinese at the University of California at Berkeley.
In 1920, he returned to China and resumed his socialist activities. In 1925, he reorganized
the New Chinese Social-Democratic Party, which was a reformist party aligned with the
Beiyang government (see text May–June 1955, note 55). This was disbanded in 1927 on the
victory of the Northern Expedition forces. Jiang then went to Canada with his political career
temporarily at an end. In 1934 he returned to China, and in 1938, after the outbreak of the
War of Resistance against Japan, he turned up in Shanghai, active in the so-called peace
movement, which was designed to work out a compromise settlement with the Japanese. In
1940, he joined Wang Jingwei’s Japan-sponsored government and began to espouse a
political program adjusted to the theories represented by Japan’s East Asia Co-prosperity
Sphere strategy. For more biographical information on Jiang, see H. Boorman et al., eds.
(1967), I, pp. 338–344.
19. This refers to a literary school in the late-Qing dynasty originating with Fang Bao,
a native of Tongcheng, Anhui province, and popularized by Liu Dakui and Yao Nai. It was
marked by its rigid rules of writing but also by its simplicity and was considered the paragon
of late-Qing classical-style prose.
20. In 1918 Lenin proposed that the Soviet government employ a two-prong strategy in
dealing with the bourgeoisie. In ways that were echoed by PRC methods later on in the
1950s, Lenin’s strategy, expressed in the essay “Left-wing Childishness and the Petty
Bourgeois Mentality” (May 1918), involved eliminating “uncultured” capitalists who
wanted to continue their profiteering and exploitative activities while “buying off” others,
transforming them into managers of the largest enterprises within the “state capitalism”
system. See text July 9, 1953, vol. I, source note, and text Nov. 17, 1955, vol. I, note 4. See
also text Jan. 20, 1956, note 12.


21. The Western Hills (Xishan) refer to a suburb of Beijing.
22. This refers to Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang dynasty (reigning 712–756). (See text
May–June 1955, vol. I, note 3.) One of the most romantic figures in Chinese history, he
reigned under three “reign names”: Xiantian (712–713), Kaiyuan (713–741), and Tianbao
(742–756). Of these, the Kaiyuan period was known for its prosperity, but in the Tianbao
period, he lapsed into poor judgment, personal corruption, and womanizing (see note on
Yang Guifei, text Sept. 16–18, 1953, note 7) and was ultimately forced to flee in the face of
rebellious forces commanded by his generals, notably An Lushan. He was known popularly
as Tang Ming Wang because he was given the posthumous title of Zhiduo dasheng daming
xiao huangdi.
23. According to the Zhou Li (Zhou Book of Rites), Confucius considered six areas to
be essential for the education of the junzi (superior man). These were li (rites), yue (music),
she (archery), yu (charioteering or horsemanship), shu (literary writing and calligraphy), and
shu (mathematics). These were known as the liu yi (six arts).
24. A novel written by the Russian author Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol (1809–1852).
25. See text Oct. 11, 1955(1), vol. I, note 38, and text Apr. 25, 1956, note 37.
26. Lu Xun began to translate Gogol’s Dead Souls (rendered in Chinese as Shi lingyun)
in 1935, one year before his death. He began to translate the story by Aleksander A. Fadeyev,
“Anarchy” (rendered in Chinese as “Huimie” or “Destruction”) in 1930. This story was
then published in 1931.
27. According to vol. 15 of Sui shu (History of the Sui Dynasty), there was in the Sui
dynasty (581–618) the so-called jiu bu yue (nine streams of music), which included musical
traditions from Qin, Xiliang, Guizi, Tianzhu (India), Kangguo, Suole, Anguo, Gaoli (Korea),
and Libi.
According to the Xin Tang shu (New History of the Tang dynasty), vol. 21, there was in
the Tang dynasty the so-called shi bu yue (ten streams of music), including musical traditions
from Yan, Qingshang, Xiliang, Tianzhu, Gaoli, Guizi, Anguo, Suole, Kangguo, and
Gaochang. Of these, Guizi, Kangguo, Anguo, Suole, and Gaochang were countries to the
west of China beyond China’s own territory. Mao’s description of the state of music in the
Tang dynasty here does not conform exactly to an earlier statement he made on the subject
in text Jan. 20, 1956.
28. See note 3.
29. The phrase hefeng xiyu, as opposed to jifeng baoyu (stormy winds and violent rain),
has come to epitomize the PRC’s selectively applied strategy of modifying certain things
gradually and moderately without doing damage to the entity. This is possibly Mao’s first
use of the term in the post-1949 period.