From the 1930s to the 1950s, Wang Ming was Mao Zedong’s top rival within the Party. In Yan’an, Mao had once insincerely shouted, “Long live Comrade Wang Ming!” Later, Wang fell into decline. In 1956 he left Beijing for Moscow to recuperate, living there until his death in 1974. He was buried in the Novodevichy Cemetery and, before dying, wrote memoirs criticizing Mao.

Even two months before his own death in 1976, Mao had his staff retrieve nine articles he wrote in Yan’an criticizing Wang Ming and read them aloud to himself—showing that Mao had not fully let go of old resentments. After forty years of reflection in the afterlife, Mao’s attitude softened, though past grievances were not entirely erased.

Wang Ming had long been labeled a “doctrinaire sectarian,” the ultimate accusation being “rightist capitulationism,” and he remains unvindicated in China. Mao thought that, through the imperial edict allowing the Jade Emperor to convene all departed spirits, he might finally meet Wang Ming.

As Mao thought of him, Wang Ming’s spirit appeared instantly.

Mao said: “We were fifty years of enemies, but now we have both been dead forty years. Heaven has placed you in paradise and me in the underworld. Looking back over those fifty years, let us review and reconcile.”

Wang Ming: “I am grateful you let me leave in 1956. Had I stayed, the Cultural Revolution’s persecution would have surely killed me. You allowed me to enjoy twenty peaceful years at the end of my life.”

Mao: “You were always a powerful head of the Party’s Moscow delegation. In 1937, you returned to China on orders, and we all went to the airport to welcome you. I shouted, ‘Long live Comrade Wang Ming!’”

Wang: “That was the most glorious moment of my life. But it did not last. In 1938, Wang Jiashang returned supporting you, relaying Dimitrov’s ‘message’ endorsing you as actual leader. You rejoiced, and from then the sun rose for you alone.”

Mao: “You doubted the authenticity of that message, which caused some controversy. But my victory as leader was already a fact; doubts were useless.”

Wang: “I acknowledge your victory. Your self-exalting ambition, your need to be the sole master, allowed you to seize power and rule alone during the eight years of the War of Resistance and the four years of the civil war.”

Mao: “Had we followed your or Zhou Enlai’s approach, cooperating with Chiang Kai-shek via a united front, how could we have independently expanded our influence? How could Japan have been prevented from depleting the Nationalists? Honestly, during the eight-year war, I did two things: expand my forces from 20,000 to 1.1 million, and conduct repeated Party rectifications, establishing myself as the sole leader. Without these, I could never have defeated Chiang and seized power.”

Wang: “From the standpoint of the Party seizing power, I admit these two measures succeeded. I could not have done them, nor could Stalin. Stalin wanted me to restrain Chiang Kai-shek and form a united front; Zhou Enlai thought the same. After victory, Stalin advocated negotiating a coalition government with Chiang, but you insisted on total victory. By 1949, you controlled half of China; Stalin still advocated negotiation, yet you pressed on and gained total control. Everyone congratulated you.”

Mao: “If we followed your approach, we’d have at most half of China.”

Wang: “Yes. Stalin saw Chiang not entirely as an enemy; he was also a revolutionary. From a larger perspective, your insistence on defeating him prevented a negotiated settlement, which caused later suffering. History acknowledges your success. But after taking power, you assumed the emperor’s stance, dictatorial, and Party democracy was lost. You made a series of errors in the early years of the PRC. Your actions before seizing power logically led to this.”

Mao: “True. I saw that with people like you, unarmed, doctrinaire, relying on words rather than strength—you could be removed easily; the world is made by force.”

Wang: “You conquered the country. If you had governed like Chiang in Taiwan, developing the island into one of Asia’s Four Little Dragons, even half as successful, it would have been a great success. But your thirty years caused famine killing tens of millions, and the country still struggled. How do you account for that?”

Mao: “I must admit, I learned from Stalin’s model of dictatorship, surpassing him in severity.”

Wang: “Exactly. Even Stalin could not match you. Stalin dealt with Chiang rationally. Had you followed Stalin and allied with Chiang against Japan, even as the junior partner, China could have avoided civil war and suffering. From a national interest perspective, the people would have been better off.”

Mao: “Following your logic, the CCP would not have monopolized China today.”

Wang: “Indeed, the CCP dominates, but by your death, the country was a mess. Deng Xiaoping led the Party out of the dead end, achieving great results in forty years. Yet compared with Chiang and Chiang Ching-kuo in Taiwan, still lacking in many respects.”

Mao: “China is now the world’s second-largest economy—how can it be worse than Taiwan?”

Wang: “True, in total GDP, but Taiwan progressed in politics, economy, and culture. Mainland China has many internal problems; much work remains.”

Mao: “Before you died, you wrote memoirs criticizing me, which annoyed me greatly. You were the only one daring to directly critique me. Chen Duxiu and Zhang Guotao had grievances but didn’t directly attack me in print.”

Wang: “My critiques may have been harsh, but the content largely aligns with current Party criticisms of you. Only one error I now acknowledge: accusing you of colluding with US imperialism. Inviting Nixon to visit China was correct. At the time, I spoke from a Soviet perspective.”

Mao: “In Yan’an, I wrote nine articles criticizing you, sharp and pointed, shown only to select leaders. Even two months before I died, I had them read to me to vent. But I suppressed publication, since you were already dead.”

Wang: “Your autocracy was absolute, sparing no one, even Zhou Enlai submitted fully. So it is understandable that I was treated similarly.”

Mao: “During the Cultural Revolution, you were again absent from denunciations; your family’s homes were ransacked, your father’s grave desecrated. You are still unvindicated. Do you wish for vindication?”

Wang: “Of course. It would comfort me greatly if I were publicly exonerated. Fortunately, since Deng Xiaoping’s reforms, my past works have gradually been selectively published. In the future, I hope unrestricted publication, so future generations can fully understand history, judge right and wrong, and learn lessons.”

Mao: “Regarding your accusations that I poisoned you—do you still maintain that?”

Wang: “My health was damaged, doctors attest that. Whether there was intent, I leave to history. But I do not doubt that the deaths of Liu Zhidan and others in Shaanbei were orchestrated by you. I am comforted that I never did anything truly wrong, and that route disputes should be judged by future generations in peace.”

Mao: “Well said. Forty years in the afterlife, I have also reflected. Let us learn from experience together.”

Wang: “It has been enlightening to see you tonight. I hope for future conversations.”

As dawn approached, Wang Ming stood, bid farewell, and Mao saw him off.

NEXT: 45. Zhang Guotao (1897–1979)