Zhu De and his colleagues “wrote again and again urging comrade Mao to return,” as they reported to an obviously anxious Shanghai. But Mao stayed put until late November, when Zhu sent troops to escort him back formally, as a show of submission.
On 28 November Mao wrote Shanghai a letter that delighted Chou En-lai with its “very positive” spirit and declaration that Mao “completely accepts the Centre’s instructions.” But Mao’s main act of deference was reserved for Moscow. He condemned his old mentor Professor Chen as “anti-revolution,” and proposed a “propaganda drive” against him. A point was made of denouncing Trotsky by name. The troops were given daily pep talks on “armed support for the Soviet Union.”
Having subjugated Zhu, Mao kept him on as a figurehead, and let the army continue to be called the Zhu — Mao Army. This way, Mao both satisfied Moscow and Shanghai, which specifically ordered “unity,” and exploited Zhu’s high prestige among the troops. Zhu went on performing as a front-man for Mao for almost half a century until the two men died within weeks of each other in 1976.
Yet sometimes Zhu gave vent to his anger and frustration. In February 1931 he grumbled to military leaders that he was “just a plaything in Mao’s hands, he had no power, Mao just toyed with him.” This was reported to Moscow, but the Russians did not lift a finger to restrain Mao.
MAO’S RETURN TO COMMAND was announced to a big meeting of army delegates gathered in the town of Gutian in December 1929. To forestall dissent, he employed a ruse. He knew that what the soldiers hated most was the practice of executing deserters. According to a contemporary report to Shanghai, “every time before setting off, a few deserters would be executed and placed along the road as a warning to others.” Incidentally, this demonstrates how hard it was to keep people in the Red Army, contrary to oft-recycled claims. The fact was that even executions did not always work, as the report continued: “But we still can’t stop deserters.”
At Gutian, Mao made much of introducing a resolution to abolish the practice. This move was tremendously popular with the soldiers. But a few months later, when the Gutian resolutions were circulated, this item was not among them. Once Mao had established himself, it disappeared. Deserters continued to be executed.
Having inveigled the delegates at Gutian into looking more favorably on him by showing specious tolerance towards the issue of desertion, Mao was able to get what he really wanted: resolutions to condemn whatever stood between him and absolute power, notably the authority of the professional military. Mao was not a professional army man. Zhu was. So Mao invented a Soviet-style pejorative tag, “purely military viewpoint,” to lay down the line that it was wrong to place too high a value on military professionalism. He loathed the convention of voting even more, as it was a free vote that had turfed him out of office. So he labeled holding a vote as “ultra-democracy,” and abolished the practice.
Mao was addicted to comfort, while Zhu lived like an ordinary soldier. Aversion to privilege was particularly strong in the army because many had originally been attracted to join by the lure of equality, which was the Party’s main appeal. To quell any protests about privilege, Mao now invented the term “absolute egalitarianism” to designate an offense, adding the word “absolute” to make it harder for opponents to disagree. It was from this time on that privilege was formally endorsed as an inalienable part of Chinese communism.
As 1930 dawned, Mao, having just turned thirty-six, could look back on the previous year with considerable satisfaction. The Party had handed him the biggest Red Army outside the Soviet bloc after he had broken all the rules. Moscow and Shanghai were palpably bribing him, which meant they needed him. Now he could further exploit the leverage this gave him.
“Where do I go now?” asked Mao, as he set off on horseback humming a poem along mossy woodland paths. Mao knew exactly where he was going: to carry out more takeovers.
Like its Russian counterpart, it changed names many times, and we shall call this apparatus “the Chinese KGB.”
Comintern chief Bukharin called the railway zone “our revolutionary forefinger pointed into China,” and it was serving as a major base for Russian funding and sponsorship of Chinese Communists.
7. TAKEOVER LEADS TO DEATH OF SECOND WIFE (1927–30 AGE 33–36)