Mao thought of Marshal Zhu, his comrade through hardship. In the revolutionary years they were always spoken of together as “Zhu and Mao,” with Zhu’s name even placed before Mao’s. Yet after the country was won, Mao had reduced Zhu to humiliation and disgrace. Zhu was an honest and generous man; thinking of this filled Mao with deep guilt. Mao’s wandering spirit went straight to Babaoshan to see Zhu De.

Recalling their decades of working together, Mao felt there were many ways in which he had wronged him—especially criticizing him during the Cultural Revolution and subjecting him to humiliation. He longed to see him at once. Not until midnight did Zhu De’s spirit slowly arrive.

Zhu spoke first: “I never expected you would still remember me.”

Mao replied, “You are a senior elder, a man of high virtue and prestige. From Jinggangshan to Beijing, for fifty years you were the foremost figure. Our military emblem and the ‘August First’ on the flag came from the Nanchang Uprising you founded.”

Zhu said, “In Jiangxi you and I had disagreements. They weren’t matters of principle. In the end, you wanted to consolidate authority and have the troops under your command. I later saw through your ambition and domineering nature. But you had ability, so I did not contend with you. Chen Yi and Zhou Enlai were the same—they accepted your leadership.”

Mao answered, “During the Jiangxi period your forces were stronger, and you were a formally trained commander. I led peasant soldiers. Without you, there would have been no proper army.”

Zhu said, “I recognized your talent for command and leadership. So through twenty years of civil war and the War of Resistance, I raised no objections and followed your lead. I was called Commander-in-Chief; my portrait as a ‘great man’ even hung beside yours in Tiananmen. Until the end of 1949, the army still displayed the portraits of Zhu and Mao side by side. I understood that I was little more than a ceremonial tablet.”

Mao said, “I knew you had no ambition. You were easygoing, put the overall situation first, honest and trustworthy. The army respected you; your prestige steadied it.”

Zhu continued, “We fought all the way to Beijing and founded the new China; I had no objections. Before the Great Leap Forward, I said nothing. At the Lushan Conference, when Peng Dehuai was purged, I could not bear it, but I knew speaking would be useless. At the Seven Thousand Cadres Conference in 1962, I thought Peng Dehuai should be rehabilitated, but since you did not approve, I said no more.”

Mao said, “I understood you always took the larger picture into account and never caused me trouble.”

Zhu went on, “At the beginning of the Cultural Revolution, you had the Central Committee criticize me. Lin Biao called me a ‘black commander’ and demanded that I strip to make a self-criticism. Kang Sheng called me an empty commander, an old opportunist with great ambition, a time bomb who wanted to be leader. Others declared their positions and attacked one after another. Big-character posters and slogans went up in the streets—‘big warlord,’ ‘ambitious careerist’—all posted against me. Qi Benyu wanted to struggle against me and drive me out of Zhongnanhai. You then spoke up, saying I was a ‘red commander’ and that whoever wanted to struggle against me, you would help him up to the platform. I understood you—first strike hard, then offer light protection. It was your strategy, meant to intimidate all the marshals and generals. Whoever refused to bow would end up like Marshal Zhu. Everyone in the Party knew that for decades I had held no real power, merely a ceremonial post. At eighty, barely able to walk, and still a ‘time bomb’?”

Mao replied, “You’re right. My intention was not truly to criticize you. I meant to ‘strike the mountain to frighten the tiger.’ You were not a tiger who bites, but you carried the prestige of a great tiger, so I first had to silence you.”

Zhu said, “What tiger’s prestige did I have? People said you ‘shook the four seas with might,’ while I ‘served as ritual under heaven.’ I was only a step above the ‘flower vase’ of the democratic parties.”

Mao answered, “Call it a big flower vase or a grand memorial tablet—the tablet was still necessary. Your ‘Commander-in-Chief’ tablet was very useful for decades.”

Zhu said, “After Reform and Opening, some scholars even published a book called Modern Laozi—Zhu De. Where did I have Laozi’s cultivation and wisdom? I was merely an honest man.”

Mao replied, “Your composure could indeed compare with Laozi. During the Cultural Revolution, despite such criticism, you remained calm and steady as a mountain, tending flowers and doing calisthenics, staying indoors and not involving yourself in affairs of the world.”

Zhu said, “But whatever you asked me to do, I still did without fail. I was never passive or neglectful. If told to receive foreign guests, I went as usual. Even a month before I died, I was still doing so.”

Mao said, “You truly devoted yourself to the end of your life. I have come to see you this time because the Jade Emperor is to hold a public trial for me. Let the grievances between us be written off.”

Zhu replied, “Let us hope the Jade Emperor will do so.”

Seeing that it was late, Marshal Zhu rose and took his leave.

NEXT: 38. Qu Qiubai (1899–1935)