Edgar Snow was a well-known American left-wing journalist and the first Western reporter to visit Mao Zedong in 1936. He became famous worldwide for his long report Red Star Over China. The book was translated into twenty languages and published globally, providing enormous propaganda assistance to the Chinese Communist Party. In 1939, 1965, and 1970, Snow met Mao several more times, wrote numerous reports, and became an old friend of Mao.

More than forty years after Mao’s death, whenever he thought of Snow, he felt especially grateful. He very much wished to see Snow again and reminisce. Holding a decree from the Jade Emperor, he easily found Snow in the spirit world.

The two old friends met, warmly shaking hands and exchanging greetings. Mao said to Snow: “I am extremely grateful for the great efforts you made for the Chinese Revolution—you helped me immensely. The success of the Chinese Revolution includes your share of credit. Especially in promoting me, making me known to the world. Your first book was quickly translated into Chinese, its title softened to Journey to the West (Xi Xing Man Ji), which was more appealing and caused a sensation in China. Your book not only enhanced my prestige but also attracted many intellectual youths—especially educated young women—to go to Yan’an, which satisfied the physiological needs of the veteran Red Army soldiers and further strengthened the Communist Party.”

Snow said: “In 1934, while serving as a journalism lecturer at Yenching University, I became very interested in the Chinese Revolution. In 1936, after your Long March succeeded, I immediately went to northern Shaanxi to interview you. We had more than ten long conversations. You spoke of your rich revolutionary experiences in a very romantic manner. The following year I completed Red Star Over China. It was published in the West and created a great response. In 1949, when you finally seized power and became the leader of New China, I was extremely excited.”

Mao said: “It’s a pity you could not attend the founding ceremony of the People’s Republic. When you returned in 1965, I already had the atomic bomb. We talked for four hours about everything under the sun.”

Snow said: “At that time, I asked you: since in 1946 you said the atomic bomb was a paper tiger, why did you exert so much effort to build this ‘paper tiger’? And so many people suffered radiation illness, harming them for life.”

Mao said: “When I said ‘paper tiger,’ I was criticizing American imperialism. But as for the atomic bomb—I had to have it if others had it. I couldn’t let others surpass me. When India’s Nehru visited China in 1954, he told me that if nuclear war broke out, no one would survive. I said perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. In any case, with the atomic bomb, I could stand a little taller and strengthen my position.”

Snow said: “In 1970, the last time I came to China to see you, my wife Lois and I traveled from Hong Kong to Guangzhou. I discovered that China was a country with only one voice. After arriving in Beijing, I saw that everyone recited your quotations and performed ‘morning requests for instruction and evening reports,’ like religious rituals. Then I went to Yan’an, the ‘holy land of revolution’ where I had interviewed you. I visited the May Seventh Cadre School, where officials and intellectuals were sent for labor reform. The life there seemed like prison.

What I saw and heard on this trip deeply disturbed me. As a passionate supporter of the revolution, I felt that in the eyes of an increasingly powerful theocratic class, all differing or supplementary ideas were heresies.

When I returned to Beijing and visited my familiar Peking University, the introduction stated that ‘before 1949, Peking University was an institution of cultural imperialism,’ and only gained new life after the Communist Party took power. I was shocked by such arbitrary denial of cultural tradition.

Finally I saw you. You harshly denounced Chinese intellectuals as bourgeois and said dictatorship must be exercised over them. You said, ‘The people’s personal worship of their leader is legitimate and indispensable.’ You uttered that self-satisfied remark: ‘I am like a monk holding an umbrella—lawless and beyond heaven’s control.’ Another deeply shocking matter was the terrible experience of my old friend Rewi Alley’s son, Allan, who had been imprisoned. Rewi Alley had joined the Chinese Revolution and settled in China. Allan told me that after the Cultural Revolution began, he was imprisoned in the northwest; everyone around him died from beatings, starvation, freezing, or suicide. Only he survived by escaping and finding Zhou Enlai, who saved his life.

This trip to China deeply disturbed me. I found you despicable and detestable, and I felt regret for having written Red Star Over China. A year later, cancer took my life. Bernard Thomas compiled a book from my forty-plus years of diaries, published as The Years of Adventure: Edgar Snow in China, which revealed my final views on China and on you.”

Snow then asked Mao: “That time you said Japan was actually good—that without Japan’s help, the Chinese Revolution would not have succeeded. You said the Japanese invasion enabled your development, allowing you to build a million-strong army and control territory with 100 million people. But many say you were unrighteous—fighting your own brothers instead of the national enemy. What do you say?”

Mao replied: “The Communist Party’s first goal was to seize political power. As long as power could be grasped, it didn’t matter who helped. Look—didn’t Lenin rely on German assistance for the October Revolution? Sun Yat-sen and Chiang Kai-shek relied on Soviet help for the Northern Expedition. I relied on the Japanese—what’s wrong with that? I even relied on Zhang Xueliang, a warlord. Without him, the Communist Party would have been finished long ago. As long as power is seized, it doesn’t matter what villains you rely on. The philosophy of the Communist Party is: power comes first.”

Snow said: “In that interview, I also asked you why you encouraged a personality cult. I said that absolute power tends to corrupt—how would you prevent corruption?”

Mao replied: “I said without worship things would collapse. But now we need to cool it down a bit. Lin Biao gave me the ‘Four Greats’—that was empty. One is enough. Just ‘Great Teacher’ is sufficient.”

Snow said: “In fact, the worship of you as the Red Sun was even more severe than the cults of Hitler or Stalin. It developed into literary inquisition—if someone casually discarded a newspaper with your photograph, they could be arrested as a counterrevolutionary.”

Mao said: “Yes, I was absolute authority and sacred. After that meeting, you soon passed away, didn’t you? Did you end your days in America?”

Snow replied: “No. I died in Geneva, Switzerland. In America, they said I was pro-Communist; it was hard to continue there, so I went to Geneva. According to my wishes, half of my ashes were buried at Peking University, because I had taught there and loved China.”

Mao asked: “You’ve been in heaven for more than forty years. Any new discoveries or new opinions?”

Snow said: “I died in 1972. In 1971, while I was gravely ill in Geneva, I learned that your successor Lin Biao had fled. I was extremely shocked. Liu Shaoqi was finished, now Lin Biao was finished—what would you do? Would China split apart? I felt disillusioned with the revolution. I wanted to write something, but I had no strength left.”

Mao asked: “Your wife is still alive, isn’t she? Is she well?”

Snow replied: “She lived to 97 and died in Geneva. In 2000, she visited Beijing. She intended to do two things: to move my remains back to the United States, and to donate foreign contributions to the group of families of student movement victims known as the Tiananmen Mothers. But once she entered China, wherever she went, Chinese secret police followed her under ‘protection.’ Her movements were restricted. The authorities would not allow my remains to be moved, nor allow her to meet anyone. When she went to Renmin University to see Ding Zilin, the initiator of the Tiananmen Mothers, she was stopped and forcibly taken away by police. My wife felt deeply humiliated. After devoting my life to supporting the Chinese Revolution, she became profoundly disappointed and thereafter one of the firmest supporters of Chinese human rights activities.”

Mao asked: “After arriving in heaven, what new reflections do you have?”

Snow replied: “In heaven I often look down at China. I saw that your wife was arrested and imprisoned—she had most faithfully implemented your line. I thought your line had broken down. But then I saw Deng Xiaoping carry out reform and opening up, befriend the United States, and things gradually improved. I was pleased. Looking back, following the Soviet path led China into increasing poverty, with no food, and tens of millions starved to death. I became disheartened about having reported you in Red Star Over China. I regret it. I believe you should also reflect and repent, leaving historical lessons for future generations.”

Mao replied perfunctorily: “You are right. I am reflecting.”

NEXT: 30. D. N. Aidit (1923–1965)