Last January, Lu Tseng-yu (also a former Communist cadre, who fled to Hongkong in 1957) and I were invited by the Republic of China to attend the Freedom Day observance in Taipei January 23. Although we stayed in our motherland only 12 days, we had opportunity to see many things, to meet many friends, to call on all the cabinet ministers, and to talk to experts on Communist affairs. We were even privileged to be received by President Chiang Kai-shek.
From the age of nine, I was indoctrinated by the Communists. This so-called education included denunciations of Chiang Kai-shek as the deadly enemy of the Chinese Communists. Even after my flight to freedom, my understanding of President Chiang's role was slight. I only knew he led the Northward Expedition against the warlords and the nation in the war against Japan.
Although I did not quite believe the Communist slanders about President Chiang, I was influenced to some extent.
In August, 1964, I arrived in New York from Burundi. One day I went to the New York World's Fair and met a young lady from Taiwan.
"How do the Taiwanese regard President Chiang?" I asked her.
"We respect him, of course," she answered. "At least the people I know have that feeling. We think he has devoted himself to the welfare of the Chinese race."
I did not quite believe her. But for politeness sake as well as because of my own delicate position, I did not question her further. I thought the Chinese going abroad for advanced study must come from well-to-do families. Their respect for President Chiang would be quite understandable.
After arrival in Taiwan, I still wanted to know how the Taiwanese felt toward President Chiang. I thought it better not to ask official guides, because their answers would have to be favorable.
I myself had been an official escort on the mainland. Often foreign visitors would ask:
"Do the Chinese really like Mao Tse-tung?"
"Yes, of course," I would answer, although I really wanted to tell them that all the Chinese were eager to see Mao Tse-tung dead.
Some foreigners put the question indirectly.
Prepared Answer
"Which leader do you like most-Mao Tse-tung, Liu Shao-chi or Chou En-lai?" they asked tactfully, hoping for a candid reply.
"Sir," I answered according to my instructions, "we Chinese love our leaders equally, for they all serve the people faithfully." This is the way it has to be under totalitarianism.
One day I went into a one-man shoe store in Taipei. I asked the owner how much he made in a month. He tried hard to evade an answer. Then I remembered that bargaining is common in Taiwan. He might think that if he told me his real income, I would demand a lower price. So I said:
"I don't care how much you charge for this pair of shoes. Tell me how much you earn each month."
"NT$5,000 (US$125) a month," he answered.
"Do you mean you earn NT$5,000 a month, excluding taxes and other expenses?" I asked dubiously.
"Yes," he replied cheerfully.
I calculated that his income was six times what I earned on the mainland.
"Then you must be very satisfied with His Excellency the President?" I asked.
"Naturally. We did not have any stores in this area until recently. We were destitute here before the President came."
Those who have been influenced by Communist doctrines and theories may insist that the income of an individual capitalist cannot faithfully represent the living standard of the people. All right, I'll find out what taxi drivers are doing, I thought.
We used taxis often. I asked a driver:
"How much do you make in a day?" "From NT$500 to NT$600. Sometime;
NT$1,000 or more," he answered.
"In that case your earnings must be very good. You can make NT$15,000 a month," I said.
"But this cab is not mine. Usually two persons drive one cab," he explained.
"How much will you make for working 15 days a month?" I asked.
"Approximately NT$2,000 to NT$3,000."
"However, in a few years, you will have some savings and can buy your own taxi."
"That will take several years."
"How much does a taxicab cost?" I inquired.
"A second-hand taxi costs NT$20,000 to NT$30,000."
More Than Minister
"If you save NT$1,000 a month, it will take you two to three years to get your own taxi. Then you will make more money than a cabinet minister. Suppose the President invites you to join his cabinet. Will you accept his offer?"
The cabby was amused and laughed at me. However, he knew I was not joking. His prospects are bright. He may have made his business plans already.
What about rural Taiwan? Is it as prosperous as the cities?
I don't intend to use food production figures, which can be found in official documents. What I want to say is that Taiwan's land reform is the most successful in the world. Free China can still stand firm in Africa after French recognition of the Peiping regime because of: (1) its successful land reform and (2) its farm demonstration teams working there. In addition, Mr. H. K. Yang, administrative vice minister of foreign affairs, has made many trips to Africa 'and won many friends for free China.
Plenty of Towels
My Taiwanese friends told me most rural families have a radio and a bicycle. Some even have TV sets. Because of my tight schedule, I did not have time to visit any farm villages. I still regret it.
On my trip to Kinmen (Quemoy), I seized the opportunity to visit a rural family. As I stepped into the courtyard, I saw a number of snow-white towels drying. I paused to look. I had seen towels on the mainland, of course, but never so many new ones for a single family.
I can still remember my college days in Shanghai, the supposed paradise of the Communists. I used my one and only towel for three years. I used it to wash my face and my feet and mended it again and again. The reason was simple. If I bought a new towel, I would have to give up several cloth ration points.
Then I would not have enough for clothing.
I wondered what our compatriots on the mainland would think if they knew of the good life led by the people of Kinmen. No doubt they would long for free China as much as I had.
As we returned from Kinmen, we were told that President Chiang would receive us. We were excited and bathed and put on our best clothes. I even applied hair tonic, contrary to my usual custom.
No Passes Needed
Usually we were rushed in paying our calls on high government officials. We felt we never had sufficient time. This time we had time to spare and went to, the China chapter headquarters of the Asian Peoples' Anti-Communist League early. Even so, Mr. Ku Cheng-kang, the APACL chairman, was waiting to accompany us.
It took us a few minutes to get to the presidential building. I deliberately let Mr. Ku walk ahead of me. I wanted to see if he would show any pass or special documents to the military policemen. In Peiping only Communist cadres in the middle echelon or above can enter high government offices, and even then they must possess special documents. It is different in Taipei. Ku Cheng-kang did not have anything to show the guards. He merely mentioned his mission. The two MPs saluted us immediately.
We walked along a red-carpeted corridor to the President's office. We did not see a single guard. The atmosphere there was quiet and solemn. I dared not say a word and followed Mr. Ku to the reception room. The President was presiding at a meeting. A Malaysian dignitary was ahead of us, waiting to see President Chiang.
Tung Chi-ping (right) treasures this picture as an important milestone in his life. (File photo)
I was so nervous that I paid no attention to the furnishings and appointments of the spacious reception room. Soon one of the President's aides came out to greet us. He was cordial but I was still wrought up. Making an excuse I went to the rest room, drank some water, combed my hair and washed my hands. On the way back, I got lost. As I looked around, an aide found me and directed me back to the reception room. Before long, it was our turn to call on the President.
As I stood up, my heart was pounding. My hands were trembling and I did not know where to put them. I felt as if I were a student about to take a very important examination.
Warm Greeting
As we entered the President's office, President Chiang stood up quickly and walked to the front of his desk. He walked very fast.
I quickly glanced around the office. There were four copies of Chinese newspapers in an orderly row on one side of the President's desk. This made me wonder whether Mao Tse-tung has a newspaper in his office. I think it is unlikely, because Chinese Communist newspapers are the most uninteresting in the world. They echo Communist palliatives, toss around abusive words, and convey tasteless articles.
While I was on the Chinese mainland, I spent not even 10 minutes a day reading newspapers. It was the same with my classmates. If Mao Tse-tung really read the newspapers, he wouldn't make them so dry and dogmatic!
On the other side of President Chiang's desk was a bound copy of Life magazine. Behind the desk was a Chinese national flag flanked by two bookshelves. Some Chinese classics were on the shelves.
After shaking hands, President Chiang said:
"It's wonderful that we all came from Chekiang province. Please sit down." He spoke in Mandarin (the Chinese national language) .
The President sat alone on one side of the desk, Mr. Lu and I on the other. I sat very close to the President and can see him well, even now. He has short mustache, which has turned white, strong white teeth, and sparse, short hair. I think the most striking aspect of his appearance are his two keen, bright eyes. In looking into them, one can feel only respect.
Clad in his generalissimo's uniform, President Chiang was obviously in excellent health and good spirits. He looked much younger than his age (of 77).
"What are the changes on the Chinese mainland?" the President asked in Mandarin.
I replied in Shanghai dialect.
"Under the Communist rule of the last 15 years, the situation has gone from bad to worse. It is very unfortunate for the Chinese people. However, it is not hopeless. Many people who went astray have come to realize the real nature of the Communists. The hatred of the ordinary people for Communism has never been so high. In the last 15 years, the Communists have made the Chinese mainland into a tank of gas. As soon as a match is struck, it will burn and explode."
President Chiang lowered his head and listened carefully. He was concentrating as though not wanting to miss a single word.
"What is the thinking of young people on the mainland?" he asked.
I said:
"Like everyone on the mainland, young people do not have enough to eat. They have no personal freedom or future. Almost all the important positions are filled by Communist cadres who took part in guerrilla warfare. The young people, who are full of passion and have a strong love for their country, are waiting for someone to lead them. Chinese youth is a powerful, anti-Communist army in the mainland."
The President lifted his head. His eyes were bright. "Then our Chinese race has hope," the President said.
"Yes, Our Chinese race has hope," I repeated.
Finally, President Chiang asked us to have a picture taken with him. He sat in the middle, and Mr. Lu and I at either side. I have this photograph on my desk. I look at it every day. It is an important milestone in my life's journey.
Afterward, I could only recall President Chiang's words, "Our Chinese race has hope." I thought how fortunate it is for China to have such a leader at this critical moment. I had never been religious, yet suddenly I became a true believer.
"May the President live a thousand years and have good health!" I prayed to myself.
—translated by Yang Kuo-kuang
Editor's Note: Tung Chi-ping was an assistant cultural attache of the Chinese Communists in Burundi. He escaped to freedom in 1964 and visited Taiwan early in 1965. Previous Free China Review articles on him are "Peiping Patterns of Subversion" (November, 1964) and "Brainwashing That Failed" (April, 1965).