Chinese and majority world opinion agreed that the differences appeared to run deeper than previously thought. Judging from the strong words and confrontation statements emanating from both Communist capitals, the feud was something more than a personal conflict between Nikita Khrushchev and Mao Tse-tung.
The Chinese Communists were challenging Soviet leadership and dominance of the international Communist movement. This didn't mean that Peiping had any delusions about replacing the Soviet. Its aims were less ambitious: a sort of collective higher authority for Communism to replace what now amounts to Soviet dictation. Others than the Russians would have a voice, for example, in the utilization of Soviet nuclear power.
Khrushchev, apparently with the solid backing of his henchmen, responded with a flat negative.
The Chinese Communists went home, and both sides now are lining up support for the international competition that inevitably must follow.
Except for Albania, the Soviet has Eastern Europe solidly in hand. Rumania mumbles a bit but must go along. Peiping similarly dominates the Far East, with North Korea and North Vietnam as the principal satellites. Russia has a numerical edge, but faces a big struggle in Africa and Latin America. The Chinese Communists even are bidding for support in the Russians' Cuban fief.
Now that the struggle has acquired some perspective, it is clear that the beginnings came as soon as Stalin had disappeared from the scene. The Chinese Communists lost nothing by their assertion of independence at Moscow. The losses had already taken place, as indicated in the bitter charges and countercharges about Soviet assistance and commercial intercourse.
Peiping also is aware that even if it surrendered to Soviet dictation tomorrow, little help could be expected from the direction of Moscow. What trust and liking may have existed are gone with the winds of old national difference, geographical propinquity, and the parting of the Communist ideological way.
As the Republic of China has maintained all along, it would be a mistake to conclude that the Soviet Union will line up with the West and try to destroy Peiping. The Soviet is committed to the destruction of the Mao hierarchy, but within the structure of Communism, not in league with the United States and the Western alliance.
On the other hand, it also would be wrong to maintain that nothing has changed, and that the free world should not attempt to reap advantage from the troubles that beset the enemy.
From the Chinese point of view, there are several implications.
First, the mainland situation is desperate and the Soviet Union will do nothing to help Peiping. Industry is stagnant and another poor harvest is in prospect. Except as they become involved in resistance movements, the people are apathetic. Chinese Communism has lost all forward motion; it is slipping back and back.
Second, the Red regime must do something or see its power destroyed from within. Events in Korea, Southeast Asia, and along the Indian border suggest that Mao contemplates a limited aggression as one way out. The aggression would have to be limited, because Peiping does not have the resources for anything more ambitious. However, it is not improbable that the Chinese Communists still hope to involve the Soviet Union. For that purpose, the Korean locale might be preferred to India.
Third, the opportunity for successful counteroffensive from Taiwan is greater than ever. Chances of Soviet intervention are less than ever, almost nil, in fact. As envisaged by Robert Hunter and Forrest Davis in their new book The Red China Lobby, the war would last only a few months, and Mao would be compelled to seek refuge in Moscow. This is the strategy they outline:
"American support would be limited to air and naval operations, while the indigenous armies would do the actual fighting.
"On D-day, the United States air force would devastate Manchuria's industrial complex while combined allied air groups would deliver arms and food to preordained drop sites throughout the China mainland. Early that morning, a massive air drop of Nationalist troops would take place in Western China, thus sealing off the Red Chinese armies in Tibet and Sinkiang. While the Seventh Fleet bombarded the Red buildup opposite Quemoy and Matsu, another large Nationalist force would drop into Southeast China and drive on Amoy and Foochow. On the great day, the 500,000-man South Korean army would launch an invasion of North Korea; our (U.S.) air forces would cripple Hanoi; the bulk of Thailand's SEATO army would invade Laos, and the Seventh Fleet would impose a permanent blockade of the China coast.
"The simultaneous opening of far-flung fronts, and the attendant wholesale revolt of the Chinese masses, including entire military units, would topple the Red regime."
Hunter and Davis advocate an American policy of "liberation," adding that "the United States can no longer afford the luxury of containment in Asia." Their study was made before the failure of the Moscow-Pleiping talks, but takes on new importance in the wake of the Communist failure. Other American sources are speaking out similarly, although not necessarily with advocacy of identical strategy. The point is Communism's presentation of unparalleled opportunity to undermine the Chinese end of its structure with minimum risk.
For the West, what happened between the Soviet Union and the Chinese Communists at Moscow was momentarily overshadowed by another Moscow meeting-that of the United States, Great Britain, and the Soviet Union which resulted in the partial nuclear test ban treaty. Except for France, the West viewed the accord as a gain for peace and as a symbol of relaxed tensions.
Free Chinese opinion did not oppose the pact, but tended to hold that the effects might be exaggerated, and that any resultant lessening of vigilance would be dangerous. Only Soviet sincerity could make the treaty worthwhile, and the Russian Communists have rarely kept their word.
Yet China could see that Soviet acceptance of the treaty was connected with the Moscow-Peiping situation. The Russian end of the Communism axis had opportunity to put up a pretense of loving peace, and could charge that the Chinese Communists sought war. This is precisely what happened. The war of words will continue in the months to come.
Involved in the continuing negotiations with the Soviet Union is the question of how far the Russians are to be trusted, whether they truly seek peace or whether they merely present an alternative to the aggressive posture of Peiping. Generally speaking, the free Chinese position is to use the Communists to destroy each other. Chinese Communists may be worse today—but what of tomorrow? What of the yesterday when the Russians were installing missiles on Cuba and aiming them at the United States?
However, with regard to nuclear controls, the Soviet Communists may genuinely fear that their employment would destroy Moscow's chances for world domination and as Mao has suggested—place the Chinese Communists in a numerical position to take over. The Soviet can be trusted a little way when the agreements with them are self-enforcing. The self-enforcing aspect of nuclear treaties is the Russo-American standoff in destructive potential.
Bellicosity of the Peiping regime was fully apparent in attitudes toward the nuclear test treaty. The Chinese Communists represented Russian signature as treachery to the Marxist movement—a further indication that Peiping would not hesitate to use nuclear destructiveness to grab all power, no matter how many lives it cost.
The consideration of what to do about Red China then came full circle. President Kennedy himself called attention to the grave danger that might confront the world a decade or so hence, when Peiping might be expected to have nuclear power. The only certain defense is to deal with the Chinese Communists now.
With its eyes on the mainland and developments there, the Republic of China appropriately paid tribute to those who probably have more first-hand information about continental conditions than anyone else: the pilots of the Chinese Air Force.
Thirty-eight of them were decorated by their commander-in-chief, General Hsu Huan-sheng. One had flown 35 missions over the mainland.
Except for coastal patrols, which stay over international waters and which are strictly avoided by Communist MIGs, the CAF planes are unarmed and bent on reconnaissance or mercy missions.
Usually the planes are veterans of World War II, flown in at tree-top height to avoid radar and escape interception. But because many flights are deep inland and to distant provinces, the planes eventually must seek some altitude to get over hills and mountains.
Losses take place, obviously, yet very few considering the risk. Pilots know the terrain like the back of their hand, and they are among the most skilled in the world. Because the loss of face is so great when mainland people receive relief supplies from their legitimate government, the Communists are bending every effort to a tightening of their bamboo curtain of the air.
The nation had good news on the home front.
First water from the giant Shihmen dam and reservoir project began to bubble through canals and to newly converted paddy land of northern Taiwan. By the end of this year, the dam and reservoir will be complete.
Shihmen is a dream that has taken almost a decade to reach reality. Irrigation is only one facet of its multipurpose objectives. It also will generate power, reduce flooding in the Taiwan area, and provide recreation and tourist attractions.
Still under consideration is a similar but even larger project in central Taiwan. The United States previously agreed to support the Tachien dam project but is undertaking new studies to determine its economic feasibility.
Government and people of central Taiwan, looking to the example of Shihmen, were determined that the project would be undertaken.
Proponents pointed out that while thermal plants might be less costly in terms of mere power production, Tachien's usefulness would not be restricted to the generation of electricity. Opening up of the whole central area was connected with the project.
Need for such mammoth undertakings was demonstrated in the spectacular advance of the island's economy. For the first six months of 1963, balance of trade was favorable, even allowing for U.S. assistance and self-supplied foreign exchange. The margin was better than US$6 million, and the volume of exports was headed for a walloping annual total of around $350,000,000.
U.S. economic authorities pointed to the achievement in suggesting that the aid program can be eliminated in three or four years. They spoke kind words about the Chinese government, and termed its use of assistance an outstanding example of wise planning and competent administration.
This was praise, not flattery, and China appreciated it.
However, there was some danger in jumping to the conclusion that this year's trade figures provide assurance that China is out of the economic woods. A large amount of the export revenue increase comes from sugar, which is not an unmixed blessing as a mainstay of economic reliance. The gain comes from a soaring sugar price which may hit the skids next year.
Sugar is Taiwan's ranking export and will remain so for a long time to come. But economists are agreed that self-sufficiency depends not upon agricultural exports, but on the development of processing industries that will utilize the abundant supply of low-cost, intelligent, literate labor.
Japan has priced itself out of the market for many goods that are needed throughout Asia. The opportunity exists for Taiwan, but problems are numerous. Other areas have the same idea. For example, a Stanford research group recommended that low-priced timepieces be manufactured for export. Investment was not forthcoming quickly enough, and Hongkong will get there first with a clock factory.
Some of Taiwan's best customers are about to come into production with their own cement and textile plants. Markets will have to be sought elsewhere. Taiwan will have to use more itself in the construction of other factories and in raising of the standard of living.
Investment funds are inadequate domestically. Foreign capital is attracted by some aspects of the Taiwan economy but repelled by others. Any dramatic increase is not to be expected overnight.
The implication is for painstaking study of any phase out of U.S. aid. Also to be weighed are the effects in the military sphere. Direct arms assistance would not be involved, but economic aid also makes its contribution to the military.
Any economy must be regarded as an integrated whole. Taiwan's has the added complication of very large military expenditures from domestically generated funds, as well as from the help supplied by the United States. Great care must be taken lest the nation's military posture be weakened and the shade pulled down on the U.S. aid showcase for Asia. The free Chinese objective is the earliest possible termination of the U.S. aid program. To rush forward too fast might be penny wise and dollar foolish.
Taiwan's long hot summer began to draw to a close. The weatherman testified that it had, indeed, been warm-an average of about two degrees more so than last year. Still, for a subtropical island, temperatures are more moderate than many might expect. The continental extremes are absent.
Record temperatures barely top the 100 F. mark: 101 for July and 100.5 for August. Summer daytime temperatures usually reach into the 90s during the early afternoon, but it cools off into the 70s at night. Humidity often runs high, but not as unbearably so as in many parts of Southeast Asia.
For 15,000 members of the China Youth Corps, this summer was one of the busiest of their lives. From one end of the island to the other, they were participating in myriad activities designed to benefit the nation and themselves. Students from middle and high schools, and colleges and universities were heeding the call of Chiang Kai-shek to make larger contributions to the recovery of mainland China.
Among the more interesting training courses was one for frogwomen. The frogmen long have been an important part of free Chinese defense, and have carried out many missions along the mainland coast. Girls are matching the men in the physical rigors of training.
Another summer manifestation is cholera. Last year Taiwan had an epidemic that cost heavily in loss of banana shipments to Japan. Quarantine restrictions were intensified for 1963, and as a result, not a single case had been reported through August. This was in the face of cholera in nearby Hongkong, Macao, and the Philippines.
As the summer waned, some relaxation of restrictions was ordered so as not to work a hardship on tourists. Inoculations are no longer required for air transit passengers, and physicians' signatures are accepted on health cards. Incoming passengers from non-infected areas are not subjected to aboard-plane inspection.
However, quarantine authorities said that a close watch would be maintained for any passengers who showed symptoms of the highly contagious disease.
For the fall months, Taiwan expected the year's largest influx of tourists. Hotels were ready. Another new one is slated to open in September, and three of the largest to be built in Taipei will be ready before the Tokyo Olympic Games next year.
The island is looking forward to 180,000 visitors in 1964-not merely with the idea of collecting foreign exchange, but with a firm intention to put China's best foot forward among those who will report their findings when they return home.
Preparations were under way for early resumption of work on a new museum building in the outskirts of Taipei. When it is completed, the world's greatest collection of Chinese art treasures will be brought from central Taiwan and housed there. Tourist authorities expect it to become one of the outstanding attractions of the Far East.
With the treasures now near Taichung, a four-hour train trip from Taipei, many visitors miss them. Those who come without a visa for stays of 72 hours or less find their schedules too crowded to make the journey south.