The moment Sun died, Mao dispatched his brother Tse-min to Canton to reconnoiter his chances. Tse-tan, his other brother, followed. By June it was clear that Wang was the new Nationalist chief, and Mao began to spruce up his credentials by establishing grassroots Party branches in his area. Most were for the Nationalists, not the Communists. Having been shunted out of the CCP leadership, Mao was now trying his luck with the Nationalists.
At the top of the Nationalists’ program was “anti-imperialism.” The Party had made its main task the defense of China’s interests against foreign powers, so this became the theme of Mao’s activity, even though it was far removed from peasants’ lives. Not surprisingly, the reaction was indifference. One of his co-workers recorded in his diary of 29 July: “Only one comrade turned up, and the others didn’t come. So the meeting didn’t happen.” A few days later: “The meeting failed to take place because few comrades came.” One night, he and Mao had to walk from place to place to get people together, so the meeting started very late, and did not finish until 1:15 AM. Mao said he was going home, “as he was suffering from neurasthenia, and had talked too much today. He said he wouldn’t be able to sleep here … We walked for about 2 or 3 li [1–1.5 km] and just couldn’t walk further. We were absolutely exhausted, and so spent the night at Tang Brook.”
Mao did not organisze any peasant action in the style of poor versus rich. This was partly because he thought it was pointless. He had told Borodin and some other Communists before, on 18 January 1924:
If we carry out struggles against big landlords, we are bound to fail. [In some areas, some Communists] organised the illiterate peasants first, then led them in struggles against relatively rich and big landlords. What was the result? Our organisations were immediately broken, banned, and these peasants not only did not regard us as fighting for their interests, they hated us, saying that if we hadn’t organised them, there would not have been disasters, or misfortune.
Therefore, until we are confident that our grassroots branches in the countryside are strong … we cannot adopt the policy of taking drastic steps against relatively rich landowners.
Mao was being pragmatic. A Communist called Wang Hsien-tsung in Mao’s area was organizing poor peasants to improve their lot at the time when Mao was in Shaoshan. He was accused of being a bandit, and was arrested, tortured and beheaded by the local police.
Mao prudently decided to steer clear of any such dangerous and futile activities, but the Hunan authorities still viewed him with suspicion, as he had the reputation of being a major radical. That summer there was a drought and, as had often happened in the past, poor peasants used force to stop the rich shipping grain out for sale in the towns and cities. Mao was suspected of stirring things up. In the provincial capital there had also been large “anti-imperialist” demonstrations, following an incident in Shanghai on 30 May when British police killed ten protesters in the British Settlement. Although Mao played no role in the Changsha demonstrations, and was living quietly at home, miles away, he was still assumed to be an instigator, and this notion crops up in an early appearance in US government records. The US consulate in Changsha forwarded to Washington a report by the president of Yale-in-China about “Bolshevistic disturbances” in Changsha on 15 June, saying that the Hunan governor had “received a list of twenty leaders of agitation, including Mao Tse-tung, known to be the leading Communist propagandist here.” Mao was a name, even to an (unusually well-informed) American.
So an arrest warrant was issued in late August. Mao, who was leaving for Canton in any case, decided it was time to decamp. He did so in a sedan chair, heading first to Changsha and telling the bearers that if asked who their passenger was, they should say they were carrying a doctor. Some days later a few militiamen turned up in Shaoshan in search of Mao. Finding him absent, they took some money and left, but did not otherwise disturb Mao’s family.
On the eve of his departure from Changsha, Mao took a stroll along the Xiang River, and wrote a poem in which he looked to the future:
Eagles soar up the long vault,
Fish fly down the shallow riverbed,
Under a sky of frost, ten thousand creatures vie to impose their will.
Touched by this vastness,
I ask the boundless earth:
Who after all will be your master?
Mao’s nose did not fail him. Within two weeks of arriving in Canton, in September 1925, he was given a clutch of key jobs by the Nationalist chief. Mao was to be Wang Ching-wei’s stand-in, running the Propaganda Department, as well as editor of the Nationalists’ new journal, Politics Weekly. And to underline his prominence, he also sat on the five-man committee vetting delegates for the Nationalists’ second congress the following January, at which he delivered one of the major reports. Wang’s role in Mao’s rise is something which has been sedulously obscured by Peking, all the more so because Wang became the head of the Japanese puppet government in the 1940s.
Mao’s ability to work at full pitch in Canton was due in no small part to his discovery of sleeping pills at this time. He had previously suffered from acute insomnia, which left him in a state of permanent nervous exhaustion. Now he was liberated. Later he was to rank the inventor alongside Marx.
In November 1925, while working for the Nationalists, Mao voiced an interest in the question of the Chinese peasantry for the first time. On a form he filled out, he said that he was “currently paying special attention” to these many tens of millions. On 1 December he published a long article on peasants in a Nationalist journal, and he wrote another a month later for the opening issue of the Nationalist magazine Chinese Peasants. Mao’s new interest did not stem from any personal inspiration or inclination; it came on the heels of an urgent order from Moscow in October, instructing both the Nationalists and Communists to give the issue priority. The Nationalists heeded this call at once.
It was the Russians who first ordered the CCP to pay attention to the peasantry. Back in May 1923 Moscow had already referred to “the issue of peasants” as “the centre of all our policies,” and had ordered the Chinese revolutionaries to “carry out peasant land revolution against the remnants of feudalism.” This meant aiming to divide the Chinese peasants into different classes on the basis of wealth, and to stir up the poor against the better-off. At that time, Mao had been cool towards this approach, and when his reservations were reported to Moscow he had been stripped of one of his posts. Mao’s position, as Dalin wrote to Voitinsky in March 1924, was that: “On the peasant question, the class line must be abandoned, there is nothing to be done among the poor peasants and it is necessary to establish ties with landowners and shenshih [gentry] …”
But now Mao shifted with the prevailing wind, though he got into trouble with the Russians over ideological phraseology. In his articles, Mao had attempted to apply Communist “class analysis” to the peasantry by categorizing those who owned their small plot of land as “petty bourgeoisie” and farmhands as “proletariat.” A blistering critique appeared in the Soviet advisers’ magazine, Kanton, which reached a high-grade readership in Russia, where the first personal name on its distribution list of about forty was Stalin’s. The critic, Volin, a Russian expert on the peasantry, accused Mao of arguing as though the peasants were living in a capitalist society, when China was only at the feudal stage: “one very important error leaps sharply to the eye: … that Chinese society, according to Mao, is one with a developed capitalist structure.” Mao’s article was said to be “unscientific,” “indiscriminate” and “exceptionally schematic.” Even his basic figures were way out, according to Volin: he gave the population as 400 million, when the 1922 census showed it was actually 463 million.