Agnes Smedley was a famous American journalist and international revolutionary activist. Throughout her life, she supported the revolutionary movements in India, the Soviet Union, and China—especially the Chinese Revolution, to which she gave substantial practical assistance. After arriving in Yan’an, she promoted ballroom dancing, and from then on Mao became fond of dancing. Her interpreter, Wu Lili, was bold and open in personality. In Yan’an she had an improper relationship with Mao. He Zizhen quarreled fiercely with Mao over the matter, causing a small political storm that forced both Smedley and Wu to leave Yan’an. More than forty years after Mao’s death, whenever he thought of the two of them, beyond nostalgia he also felt guilt, and longed to reunite with their departed spirits in the underworld. Especially toward Wu Lili—imagining a chance to rekindle old feelings by the banks of the Yellow Springs—he impatiently sought out the spirits of both women.

Mao said to Smedley: “I learned to dance starting from you. You not only reported extensively on the Chinese Revolution but also made many practical contributions—including teaching us country bumpkins how to dance Western ballroom dances. Your passion and openness brought a touch of Western flavor to Yan’an. But because of some of my misconduct, the two of you had to leave Yan’an. Besides missing you, I still feel guilty.”

Smedley replied: “I deeply loved China and greatly admired you. I helped India, the Soviet Union, and China, but I gave my greatest efforts to China.”

Mao said: “I remember when you first came to Shanghai in 1929. Lu Xun, Guo Moruo, and Soong Ching-ling welcomed you. You even served for a time as Soong Ching-ling’s secretary and bodyguard. You passionately reported on the revolutionary struggle in Jiangxi and wrote articles such as The Red Army in China Is Advancing.”

Smedley said: “In 1934 I came to China again. In 1936 I arrived in Xi’an and happened to witness the Xi’an Incident. I was the only person who reported the Xi’an Incident to the world in English, which made me famous internationally.”

Mao said: “In 1937 you came to Yan’an. Peng Dehuai and He Long received you along the way, and Ding Ling went to greet you. As soon as you arrived, Zhu De and I met with you. The very next day we held a welcoming assembly for you, and I spoke with you for over an hour about the history of anti-imperialist struggle.”

Smedley said: “I wanted not only to report on China’s revolution but also to help in practical ways. Using my international connections, I sought aid for Yan’an. I invited many journalist friends to visit Yan’an. I directed the Foreign Languages Department of the Lu Xun Academy of Arts. I even launched birth control and rat extermination campaigns—with your support.”

Mao said: “I know you supported us wholeheartedly. You even applied to join the Chinese Communist Party.”

Smedley said: “When Lu Dingyi told me the Party Central Committee did not agree—saying that ‘you would be more useful as a non-Party journalist’—I burst into tears.”

Mao said: “Later you went to Wuhan, worked with the American ambassador and Yugoslav medical experts to organize a Red Cross relief team. You personally worked in the military medical department and persuaded the International Red Cross in Geneva to supply urgently needed medicine to China. You also called on foreign medical experts to come to China.”

Smedley said: “Yes. The Canadian doctor Norman Bethune, as well as Brown and the Indian Dr. Dwarkanath Kotnis, were influenced by me to come to China in support. I stayed in Wuhan for ten months, then retreated with the medical corps to Changsha. After the Southern Anhui Incident occurred, I published the news in The New York Times. Based on my frontline experiences, I also wrote the book China Fights Back.”

Mao said: “In Yan’an, you saw that our lives were monotonous and without entertainment, and you proposed ballroom dancing. I strongly supported it.”

Smedley said: “Lili and I taught you all to dance, and you were very happy. You most liked to dance with me and Lili. Zhu De and Zhou Enlai also enjoyed dancing.”

Mao said: “I liked Wu Lili very much. She was young and beautiful, had studied in the United States, refined and talented. I got along very well with her, and you tolerated our contact.”

Smedley said: “I did not fully understand your cultural customs. But I heard that Chinese emperors had the right to demand the women they favored. Yan’an could be considered a small dynasty, and you a new emperor—so whoever you liked didn’t matter.”

Mao said: “That may be so, but new times are different from old. I still needed to be discreet; I couldn’t act openly like the old emperors. Besides, during the War of Resistance, blood was being shed at the front while singing and dancing went on in the rear. Being too unrestrained would have looked bad.”

Smedley said: “And that’s how trouble began. I remember one night I had already gone to sleep when I suddenly heard shouting from Lili’s cave dwelling next door. You had come for a secret rendezvous with Lili, and He Zizhen followed and caught up. The three of you began fighting in the cave, and it became uncontrollable. He Zizhen refused to leave, and you had to use your guards to drag her out. The next day all of Yan’an was stirred up. Everyone felt awkward. He Zizhen even threatened to have me shot, since I had brought Lili there.”

Mao said: “The Party Central Committee saw no easy resolution. He Zizhen was a veteran Red Army member who had gone through the Long March, and she had the support of senior women comrades like Kang Keqing and Deng Yingchao. Zhou Enlai was resourceful—he put a cap of suspicion of ‘American spy’ on Wu Lili and swiftly had her sent to Xi’an to settle the matter and calm things down.”

Smedley said: “After Wu arrived in Xi’an, she still missed you deeply. You wrote her letters, poems, and sent books. She kept dozens of your letters and poems. There was also a copy of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio inscribed ‘Runzhi to Lili.’ She always remembered you and could not forget you—even after going to Taiwan.”

Mao said: “But He Zizhen’s uproar greatly affected my mood. My relationship with her became irreparable. She cried and made scenes, insisting on going to the Soviet Union. Life in Yan’an became difficult for me; I stopped dancing. The senior Red Army women—Kang Keqing, Deng Yingchao—they disapproved of dancing, saying it affected their marriages, and I was powerless. In truth, Zhu De, Zhou Enlai, Liu Shaoqi—they were quite proper. They interacted with you too, but there were no scandals. Unlike me—I’d take a liking to someone whenever I met one. Whoever I liked, I pursued. Heh heh.”

Smedley said: “Soon after, I also quickly left Yan’an and went to Wuhan.”

Mao asked: “Did you later return to the United States and die there?”

Smedley said: “No. During McCarthy’s anti-communist campaign, I couldn’t remain in the United States. I went to Britain and died of illness in London in 1950. According to my wishes, my ashes were sent to China and buried at Babaoshan. Zhu De wrote the inscription on my tombstone.”

Mao said: “You wrote a book about Zhu De, didn’t you?”

Smedley said: “The book I wrote about Zhu De was published in 1956. I had already been dead for several years.”

Mao felt that everything that needed to be said had been said. He stood to take his leave, shook hands with Smedley and Wu in farewell. After shaking hands, Mao tried to take advantage of the moment to embrace Wu, but she pushed him away sharply.

“Old rogue,” Wu said.

The three parted on unhappy terms.

NEXT: 29. Edgar Snow (1905–1972)