Under any circumstances, however, this was, in the words of one of Ching-ling’s biographers,* “the worst possible time” for Ching-ling to visit the Soviet Union. About to break with Trotsky, Stalin had “misread the situation in China badly, and was on the lookout for scapegoats… anyone who had been in China, or was connected with the Chinese Revolution.” Borodin, who arrived shortly after Ching-ling, was “muzzled and shunted into a minor post,” while Joffe, the Soviet emissary to China, committed suicide. With her income from China cut off, unwilling to accept help, Ching-ling, according to Sheean, was “now the loneliest of exiles.” Isolated except for a few Chinese friends, she and Eugene Chen went to see Stalin, who urged them to go home and cooperate with Chiang. She did not take his advice. After six months in Russia, she went to Brussels for a meeting of the League to Struggle against Imperialism and Colonial Oppression and then moved on to Berlin. It was May of 1929 before she returned home.
While the diehards were trying to cope in Russia, the other radicals, with the exception of Ching-ling’s friend General Teng, had made a quick accommodation with Chiang. In spite of this, the rivalry between the two factions continued its angry course. There was only one solution to the problem insofar as Chiang was concerned, and it was his old response to a new situation. He, Chiang Kai-shek, head of the army and the government, announced that since he was the cause of this hostility, he would resign and go home, rest, and study politics, economics, and military tactics. As was his custom, he dressed the part, shedding his uniform for the long robes of a scholar.
Of all Chiang’s resignations, this was the most carefully thought out, the most disingenuous, and possibly the most politically savvy. With his previous record of making himself unavailable to prove his worth, it would be foolish to believe that he meant what he said. Four days after his resignation, the North-China Herald reported that the morale of the National Revolutionary Army had collapsed, and local papers were reporting that the Nanking government was “at a standstill.” Chiang knew he was well on his way to achieving the pinnacle of his desires. He was head of the army and de facto leader of the party, and he had just bested the faction, backed by the entire USSR, that wanted him out, dead or alive. He intended to pursue the Northern Expedition, but before he could do this, he needed a united party behind him. He assumed that the radical element of the KMT would learn to appreciate him in his absence. Or at least it would realize that it could get nowhere without him.
In addition to military and political factors, Chiang had a specific personal plan in mind. This break in his campaign would give him time to bring it to a fruition.
PART THREE
1928–1936
16
By education and training she [Madame Chiang] is equipped as no other women in modern politics to take her place in the affairs of state.
—T. CHRISTOPHER JESPERSON
IT IS an accepted fact that May-ling’s marriage to Chiang Kai-shek was arranged by her sister Ai-ling, but when the deputy secretary of an important women’s committee told Madame Chiang that she admired Ai-ling for conceiving the idea, Madame, who was seldom averse to juggling history, not only disagreed but, according to her personal assistant, told an entirely different story:
“Pardon me, my dear lady,” she said tapping her fingers impatiently on the table in front of her,
I can scarcely believe that you would accept such a fabrication. How could this have been so? Among my brothers and sisters, Ching-ling is the most obstinate, I am somewhere in the middle, and Ai-ling is the gentlest. Never, neither as girl nor woman did Ai-ling impose her opinion on others. Although she introduced Ching-ling to Dr. Sun, she knew her sister had adored him since she was a young child. As to my marriage to Chiang Kai-shek, Ai-ling neither suggested it nor persuaded me to marry him. However, when my mother disapproved of the idea, Ai-ling and T.V. tried to help me convince her that it would be all right. My marriage with Chiang Kai-shek was totally my idea. It was I who persuaded my mother, my elder brother and my eldest sister to accept Chiang and got them to support me.… Ever since I was a young girl I have adored heroes. Many was the time I heard Sun Yat-sen praise Chiang Kai-shek’s talent. I met Chiang for the first time in Dr. Sun’s home in 1923.* I was attracted by his shining eyes.… I lost my heart to him. We spoke in Shanghai dialect, and we exchanged addresses and telephone numbers. Later, I invited him to my mother’s birthday party.
Aside from the fact that May-ling would never, ever have invited an unknown man to her mother’s birthday party, this story of love at first sight is at best an exaggeration. She probably did meet Chiang at the Suns’ home on Rue Molière around that time, but Chiang—described some years into their marriage as “a small, ascetic-faced man… who might have passed for an Episcopalian minister or a Y.M.C.A. secretary”—was not yet endowed with the charisma of a national hero. Only one of several assistants to Sun Yat-sen, he was in Russia from August until the end of 1923, and there is no record of May-ling visiting Canton, where he was stationed.
According to Emily Hahn, who interviewed the sisters in the 1940s, Chiang—never one to be bothered by other attachments when desire and power were involved—asked Dr. Sun at some point if he thought he could have a future with the youngest Soong daughter: “Do you think Miss Soong could be persuaded to accept me?” At which point Sun made the mistake of asking his wife, Ching-ling, who said that “she would rather see her little sister dead” than married to a man with at least one other wife—an interesting objection considering the background of her own marriage. With the usual Chinese refusal to deliver bad news, Sun simply told Chiang, “Wait a while”—advice he reiterated the two other times that Chiang brought up the subject over the next couple of years.
There is another story floating in the fogs of historical gossip that Chiang had also asked for the hand of Ching-ling. According to Edgar Snow, Ching-ling told him that shortly after Sun’s death in 1925, Chiang had proposed to her through a middleman. “She thought it was politics, not love,” said Snow, “and declined.” This would certainly confirm the theory that what Chiang Kai-shek wanted was not a wife but a political and financial asset—the usual Chinese criterion for picking a spouse. According to the independent newspaper Ta Kung Pao:
Chiang’s remarriage was a calculated political move. He hoped to win over Madame Sun Yat-sen (Soong Ching-ling) and T. V. Soong by becoming their brother-in-law. At that point, Chiang also began to contemplate the need to seek support from the West. With May-ling as his wife, he would have the “mouth and ears” to deal with Westerners. Besides, he thought very highly of T.V. as a financial expert. But it would be unfair to say that Chiang did not fall for May-ling. Chiang obviously considered himself a hero. And in Chinese history, heroes tended to fall for beauties. For political considerations, Chiang would have done anything. To have a new wife would seem a logical move for Chiang to make in those circumstances.
May-ling and Chiang did meet in Canton in 1926, when May-ling was visiting the Suns. She may well have been attracted, and so, obviously, was he, judging from his diary. In the first entry, dated the end of January, he only mentions that she attended graduation services at Whampoa Military Academy, but by the second, dated the end of June, he reports going to visit her, and at the end of July he laments the fact that “May-ling will be going back to Shanghai. I do not want her to leave.” During the first half of that year, Chiang himself was very busy—evading the Communist plot to spirit him off to Russia (the incident of the gunboat), pulling off his coup against the Communists, making plans for the Northern Expedition, and mobilizing his soldiers. By the end of July, he was ready to leave Canton for the big drive north, and it seems clear that they could not have seen each other again until the winter and spring of 1926–1927, when May-ling spent three months in Wuhan. From her comments on the local Chinese Communists and “the divergences” between them and “our National policy,” it seems likely that they spent time together when he went there in January of 1927 to deal
with Borodin and the Communist faction of the KMT.
Chiang first mentions her name on March 21, 1927, by which time she must have left Wuhan. “I missed Sister May-ling very much today,” reads the entry in his diary; and two months later, “I can’t help thinking about May-ling.” According to the person who wrote an introduction to this section of his diary, they had already started corresponding with each other.
Whatever the state of their relationship, it was not too long after Chiang and Jennie moved into their new house in Canton that they received an invitation to dine at the home of the Kungs in Canton. According to Jennie, Chiang was terrifically excited: “An invitation! I never, never expected it,” he told her, pacing back and forth. “And now, at last, after all this time, you and I have a chance to dine with this great personage. It is really too wonderful to be true.” Chiang then explained to his wife that she must “realize how very important” it was to him “to get closer to the Soong family. You know that I wasn’t able to get as close to our leader [Sun] all those years as I had wished, so this is a chance to get closer to his relatives.… You know just as well as I do [that] Canton is full of military experts, but by a stroke of pure luck I was made head of the academy. I have position, but I lack prestige. So my strategy is to cultivate the friendship of his nearest relatives. I want the names of Sun, Soong and Chiang to be linked tightly together.… We are on the threshold of great achievement. You know how much this means to me. You must not refuse to go to the dinner.”
Because Chiang himself could not get away from his duties at the military academy until late that day, Jennie did as he asked and arrived alone at the Kungs’ at the appointed hour. The other guests were May-ling, Eugene Chen, and Ho Hsiang-ning, the widow of Chiang’s friend Liao Chung-k’ai. According to Jennie, the hostess and her sister, dressed in bright silk gowns, “looked as if they had stepped out of a Shanghai fashion book.” Chiang’s wife, who had been given a tour of the house and was returning to the living room, overheard the two sisters gossiping about her. Suddenly, her white crepe de chine dress, white kid shoes, and beaded white handbag seemed less than perfect for the evening. “She’s only a middle-class housewife!” Jennie overheard Ai-ling saying to May-ling. “How can she ever qualify to be the wife of a budding leader? Something must be done about it.”
Quizzed for two hours about Chiang, his village wife, his ex-concubine, and his famous temper, Jennie was seemingly still unaware that this little dinner, which had “seemed to be just an ordinary get-together,” was the “beginning of a long-range intrigue” to separate her from her husband. But by the time Chiang himself arrived, “thrilled beyond words to be a guest of Mme. Kung,” Jennie had begun to notice little things—like her hostess’s constant praise of her younger sister. “No one,” according to Ai-ling, “was as clever as May-ling Soong.” Still, Jennie claimed that she was surprised the next day when Ho warned her to stay away from Ai-ling: “We have known her for at least four years,” Ho said, “… she used to ignore Kai-shek as if he were a common soldier. She never did have any respect for him. In fact, I remember distinctly, when Dr. Sun introduced us, she rudely turned her head the other way. It embarrasseed Dr. Sun terribly.… Today the situation is different. Kai-shek is the most important personage in Canton and is an attractive prize to be ensnared. You must remember that she still has an unmarried sister.”
Then one day, “out of the blue,” a letter arrived for Chiang from May-ling. Jennie was stunned. Caught, Chiang showed her the letter:
Dear Big Brother,
For a few months I have not been near you to receive your profitable instruction. In your busy military life you have wired inviting me to accompany my sister and family to visit Wuhan [Hankow] to see our Nationalist Party’s new achievement. For this I am grateful. But the day before yesterday I left Canton for Shanghai to see my mother. Big sister is still in Canton and may shortly return to Shanghai. When I have time I shall certainly accompany her to visit the Yangtze cities. I am now taking advantage of Yung-chih’s [H. H. Kung’s] departure for Hankow to write you these few lines to ask after your well-being.
May-ling
By way of explanation, Chiang said that May-ling’s note was in answer to a telegram he had sent to thank her for her congratulations, presumably on his successful military campaign. “I invited her to Hankow,” he told Jennie. “… It shows how important it is to hold high position. Once you are up, people flock to you.” Chiang also explained to his wife that “the subtle way” and the best way to get T. V. Soong to leave Wuhan and join Chiang’s faction of the KMT was through Ai-ling Kung. Having forewarned his wife, Chiang invited Ai-ling to a meeting. According to Jennie, their conference proceeded as follows: “Mme. Kung came posthaste, sailing on the Central Bank of China’s cruiser. On arrival, she did not disembark but stayed on board and sent for Kai-shek.” Although Jennie thought that Ai-ling “did not come ashore because… she had reasons for avoiding me,” it is clear that, in the Chinese way, Ai-ling was also putting herself in the stronger position of the two. And whereas Chiang told Jennie that they “spent twenty-four hours discussing the political situation,” their conversation obviously ranged way beyond politics.
“Mme. Kung” Jennie said, “was a formidable negotiator.”
She was the most able of the Soong sisters, a hardheaded female… shrewd, cunning, and ambitious. Kai-shek knew that her passionate interest was money, for she speculated on the exchange market and took a fierce joy in business manipulations and enterprises.… After the twenty-four-hour meeting… she returned directly to Hankow. Kai-shek came home to tell me in great detail what had transpired. He said: “I have not kept any secrets from you and I don’t want to begin now, especially now when I need your help.” Mme. Kung said this to me:
“You are a rising star. Will you allow your star to set as quickly as it has risen? Will you allow the Communists… to throw you out?… In fighting alone for the Nationalist cause, you do not have enough personality, although I must say you have the spirit. But spirit is not everything. This gigantic task of liberating and reconstructing China… needs great influence, money, personality, and prestige. As it is, you have none of these.… I will make a bargain with you.… I will not only convince my brother T.V. to leave the Hankow government as you wish, but will go one better. He and I will rally the leading bankers of Shanghai to back you with the necessary funds so that you can buy the ammunition you need to carry on the expedition. In return, you will agree to marry my sister May-ling. And you will also agree that as soon as the Nanking government is established, you will name my husband, H. H. Kung, Prime Minister and my brother T.V. your Minister of Finance.”
Another version of their conversation, quoted in a recent biography of H. H. Kung, outlines this exchange somewhat differently. When Chiang asked Ai-ling to help him convince T.V. to break with the government at Wuhan and join him, she answered with another question: “Do you have any other requests?”
“I think this one matter is very important, and it is enough to ask,” Chiang replied.
“Then what is the quid pro quo?”
Somewhat surprised, Chiang replied that he would work for the goals of the KMT and that if he achieved the unification of China, it would be thanks to her help. He added that if Madame Kung had any personal desires, he would do everything to help her achieve them after he succeeded in destroying the rival government at Wuhan. Ai-ling then got down to business.
“Brother Kai,” she said, “you are the future star of the country, but if you think in such a simple way and offer empty promises, you will fall as soon as you rise. You should know that Borodin plans to take over your powers and give them to General Galen. Your soldiers will be beaten sooner or later.… The people on your side are mostly incapable cowards seeking self-advancement. You cannot succeed if you rely on them.”
“So I hope Madame can help me,” Chiang said.
“Yes, both I and my husband have made many efforts.”
“Mr. Kung
is a great man, and I’m grateful to him,” Chiang said. “He does things for the party without asking to be paid for them. I have great admiration for him.”
“Kung is a banker. He looks for profits. He hasn’t asked for payment because he did not want to mention it at the present time, but this does not mean that he doesn’t care about money. I care about it. I am completely different from my husband. I only work with others under fair conditions. So we must clearly set out the quid pro quos. Listen to me. I will beg T.V. to leave the government at Wuhan. Moreover, I will call on the leading bankers of Shanghai to give you the money to buy ammunition. But in return you must promise first to take my sister May-ling as your proper and permanent wife, and you must legally get rid of your three former wives.”
“Certainly,” Chiang replied. “The marriage with Mao Fu-mei was arranged by my family, and I have no love for her. I left her ten years ago. As to Yao Yi-cheng, she was sent to Soochow to live.”
“I mean Ch’en Chieh-ju [Jennie], who is living with you now. You will have to get rid of her. I have information that she is a Soviet spy. She will spoil everything if she stays with you.”
“To call Ch’en Chieh-ju a Soviet spy is a malicious lie. I met her when she was thirteen years old, and she married me at sixteen. She has been constantly at my side ever since. I know what kind of person she is. She is not a Soviet spy.”
“If you don’t want to see her die,” Ai-ling responded angrily, “you must send her abroad.”
“All right, I promise I will.”
“Secondly, once this government is established, you must appoint Mr. Kung as president.”
“But, according to resolutions passed by the Kuomintang, the title of president can apply only to Dr. Sun. No one else is allowed to use it. You must know this.”
The Last Empress Page 23
