In 1911 the future looked promising when the decaying Manchu Empire was overthrown, and the dedicated leader, Dr. Sun Yat-sen, introduced a progressive program for the unification and modernization of China. Dr. Sun faced an enormous task. The unjust system of concessions and privileges, which foreign powers had arrogantly imposed, weakened and divided the country. There were irreconcilable warlords who not only had to be subdued, but also had to be convinced that a strong central authority would mean security for themselves and for the Chinese people who had endured years of humiliating aggressions. Political and administrative institutions had to be created throughout a country wherein modem means of transport and communication scarcely existed. Economic and land reforms had to be established in order to lift the cruel burden of want and famine from the suffering millions. Dr. Sun, in his struggle to achieve these goals, was guided by three major principles: San Min Chu-I - Nationalism, Democracy and the People's livelihood.
The challenge was staggering. Even in the best of times progress would have been slow. Before Dr. Sun's revolutionary programs had progressed very far, China found herself again tragically the victim of Japanese aggression. During the 1930s, an expansionist Japan projected her economic and military power onto the continent with increasing force. The ensuing warfare sapped the strength of the young Republic, and deferred most hopes of progress for many bitter years. A dangerous internal force, Communism, was taking root in China at the same time. The revolutionary movement dedicated to the alien philosophies of Marx and Lenin now threatened the life of Dr. Sun's Republic from within its borders, even as the Japanese sought to crush it from without. With the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, the United States immediately became involved in the rapidly developing global war - with Allied nations resisting Japan in the Far East and the Fascist dictatorship in Europe.
Although the Western Allies decided to concentrate on winning victory in Europe first, they conducted limited operations against the Japanese, helping to some extent the hard-pressed Chinese. As the tide of battle turned against the German-Japanese alliance, however, and when it became clear that the Soviet Union was prepared eventually to enter the war against Japan, the concern of the Western Allies for the fate of China decreased perceptibly. The meager flow of sorely needed supplies that had been brought over the "hump" from India remained a trickle. Sustaining the effectiveness of the ill-equipped, ill-supplied, and often undernourished Chinese forces became an almost hopeless task, in spite of the heroic efforts of the late President Chiang Kai-shek. The miseries of a seemingly endless war had simultaneously strained the social fabric of China, and taxed the energies of her brave people to the outermost limits of endurance.
Meanwhile, the Communists in China pursued their ruthless plans for power and conquest. They made no effort to help their countrymen against the Japanese. Instead, they conserved their strength, and with consummate skill they carried forward a program of subversion and propaganda against the Nationalist Government. When the war against Japan ended in 1945, the Republic of China teetered on the brink of exhaustion. As an additional blow to its morale and strength, the military and economic aid which had been expected from the United States was at that critical moment drastically reduced or cut off entirely. Sensing that the hour of decision had arrived, the Communists struck. Rigidly controlled by their disciplined totalitarian ideology, supported generously by the Soviet Union, and with forces relatively fresh and strong, the Chinese Communists launched an all-out military attack against the Republic. Two years later, the entire mainland was in their hands.
In the quarter of century which has elapsed since 1949, the world has constantly sought to explain "the fall of China." A fashionable interpretation, as you know, is content with placing primary blame on the faults and mistakes of the Nationalist regime. Even before the end of the war in 1945, a tendency had grown in the West to dwell on the shortcomings of the Nationalists. By way of contrast, the Communists were portrayed as honorable, efficient, and deserving men who truly represented the interests of the Chinese people. Much but not all of this criticism had its source in the political left. Countless persons of liberal outlook also joined the cry. As the record reveals, I was not unmindful of things which impressed me as weaknesses in the structure and policies of the Nationalist government, nor was I silent concerning them. I tried to serve the Chinese people, both during and after the war, as an utterly straightforward but friendly and constructive critic. However, I always remained convinced that the Nationalist cause was China's best hope, and that its leaders continued to deserve the understanding and firm support of my government, in fact of democratic regimes everywhere. The relentless one-sideness of the left-liberal critique therefore struck me as unfair and ultimately self-defeating.
Such personal conviction had not been reached in a vacuum. My earlier military career had taken me to the Far East for almost a decade during the nineteen twenties and thirties. A tour of duty in Tientsin (1929-31) had provided an especially favorable opportunity to study the history of China, and to follow the course of unfolding events. Among the many Chinese whom I met and admired at that time were the distinguished scholars Wellington Koo and Hu Shih. In 1943, in the midst of World War II, I returned to the Far East. A year later, I was sent to Chungking as commander of American forces in China, and as chief of staff to Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek.
In this latter post, the opportunities presented to observe and evaluate the situation in wartorn China were of course exceptional. I traveled widely in those sections of the country not held by the Japanese, including areas under Communist control. I met and talked with most of the Republic of China's senior officials, military and civilian, and with many of the Communist leaders. I conferred almost daily with Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, either alone or in the company of members of our staffs, over a period of almost two years. The times were extremely difficult, and the problems we faced often seemed insurmountable. Although differences of opinion sometimes arose between us, they always were resolved in a spirit of mutual respect and good faith. Throughout the entire period, I found the Generalissimo an unfailingly honorable soldier and a staunch ally. His considerable administrative and political abilities were at the same time abundantly apparent. I was greatly impressed, then and later, with the obvious depth and sincerity of his love for the Chinese people. He often spoke to me of his hopes for their future. The programs he envisioned included land reform, industrial development, and a system of universal education aimed at creating the social basis of increasingly democratic institutions.
These, then, were some of the experiences which sustained my faith in the Republic of China. When I shift my attention from the struggles and disappointments of the past to the Taiwan of 1976, I see further support for that faith. This always lovely but previously underdeveloped island has become a picture of heartening success. It has experienced extraordinary growth and transformation. Industries have flourished here through hard work, imaginative management, and increasingly sophisticated technology. The Republic of China has become an important factor in world trade. Its population has multiplied; its educational system has expanded from primary through college levels, the standards of health and prosperity of the people have risen to unprecedented heights. In spite of constant threats to the security of the island, civil liberties have survived, and gradual progress has been made in the direction of representative democracy. These achievements are an impressive testament to the wise leadership and faith of the late President Chiang Kai-shek and of the many able men who have loyally assisted him and successors President C. K. Yen and Premier Chiang Ching-kuo. They epitomize the exceptional vitality and talents of the Chinese people.
I believe, moreover, that the miracle of Taiwan contains lessons of contemporary significance for all the world. It affirms once more the superiority of free over regimented societies. One aspect of that superiority obviously lies in higher economic productivity and greater abundance for all. By contrast with the perennial drabness and deprivation which characterize life in totalitarian societies, standards of living in Taiwan have steadily improved. Far from being "exploitative," as the Communists insist, your economic system gives scope to individual actions and opens a wide door of opportunity for all to prosper.
Although material factors are important, they do not comprise the essential qualities of a free society. More important by far are the opportunities freedom gives one to develop individual destinies and potential as moral beings. Freedom to read, to think, to speak, to practice the religion of our choice, to come and go as we wish, to engage in whatever occupations our talents and interests permit, to equality under the law, to be secure in our persons and property - these are the true and priceless blessings of liberty. Your families and friends on the mainland would tell you that these are precisely the things which are destroyed under Communism. The persecutions suffered by this University under Communist edict in Peking confirm these truths, as does evidence from countless sources around the world. The fact that freedom marches with progress on Taiwan surely suggests "what might have been" on the mainland. That fact must shine forth as a beacon of promise to the millions of Chinese temporarily enslaved in the "People's Republic of China."
We continue to live in an uncertain and perilous world. New forces have arisen and new adjustments are constantly taking place. The United States has in recent years followed a policy of so-called "detente" with the Soviet Union and the "People's Republic of China." This policy, aimed at promoting international stability and peace, has, I am sure, been well-intentioned. Its precise application and tendencies, however, have troubled many observers, including myself. Whether the security of free nations and the cause of peace will be served through "detente" remains to be seen. I speak, of course, as a private citizen, with no official status or sanction whatsoever. For my own part, I unequivocally oppose any policy, any agreements or any action which would result in the loss of one more free man, or an additional square inch of territory, to the domains of Communism.
As we look to the future, it is my fervent wish, and indeed my confident prediction, that the Republic of China will continue to grow in prosperity and freedom. Further trials will be inevitable. And who can say that the reverses of the past shall not, in the fullness of time, prove instruments of perfection? "A gem," Confucius is reported to have taught, "is not polished without rubbing, nor a man perfected without trials." Surely a nation's institutions, like a man's character, can be purified and strengthened by adversity. You, therefore, citizens of the Republic of China - each and every one of you - will, I know, carry on with good spirit, confident in the knowledge that on this island flows the authentic mainstream of the great civilization of China.
May I address a few remarks to you, the members of the graduating class. The future of your country - and indeed of all Asia – will be strongly influenced by you. The generation of your grandfathers is passing with the hurrying years; the generation of your fathers now bears the major burden. You and your contemporaries must prepare yourselves with all possible seriousness for the responsibilities that soon will be yours. I speak to the young women as well as to the men. The world finally is awakening to an awareness of the long unused talents of women and their capacities for advancing human endeavors in all fields.
I realize that one generation should not indeed cannot - arbitrarily impose its own patterns on the lives of its children. Even in a culture which, like the Chinese, has always honored the past, every generation must develop anew a distinctive outlook and sense of self. Change is inevitable in history; and only by constant renewal and reintegration can life remain dynamic and whole. It is a wise generation, however, which refuses to be swept off its feet by every fashionable shift of doctrine; which refuses, most importantly, to be seduced by the glittering but false promises of radical utopias.
You, the members of the graduating class, are now members of an elite group - eminently qualified to accept any challenge in fulfilling your duties as citizens of the Republic of China. I congratulate you and gladly join your families and friends in wishing you every success and happiness. I am confident that you will create and fulfill opportunities to preserve the dignity, the freedom and the wholesome progress of your families, communities and country.
Editor's note: This article is based on General Wedemeyer's address to the Fu Jen Catholic University class of 1976. It was read by Dr. Fredrick Chien, vice minister of foreign affairs.