Russian emigre soldiers in KMT army?

[koczownik]

I think it is fairly well known about the White Russian emigres who served in Manchukuo Army during the Sino-Japan War. But I am curious, are there any records of Russian emigres serving on the other side, in the KMT forces during the Sino-Japan War? And what about during the 1945-49 fighting between KMT and CCP?
There were many emigre soldiers in Chinese warlord armies during 1920s-30s, and many of these warlord armies eventually were absorbed into nominal KMT control after the Northern Expedition, so I would not be surprised if some Russian emigre soldiers were likewise absorbed under the Chinese Nationalist government. But, I have not heard any details about this.

[Stephen_Rynerson]

Koczownik, in my own research I've come across no references to Russian emigres serving as soldiers in NRA (KMT/GMD) units the way that they served in the Manchukuoan army or the forces of Zhang Zuolin, Zhang Zongchang,and Jin Shuren/Sheng Shicai when they were independent warlords. The lack of any mention of such units in NRA service implies to me that at some point they were disbanded, but I don't know if that was because of an official policy against having such units or simply the result of a combination of attrition and insufficient new recruits to keep the units viable.

[Nykyus]

I have a memoir by Soviet military adviser Cherepanov in the Kuomintang. He arrived in the Kuomintang in 1922. There are detailed descriptions of the actions of Soviet advisers. The Kuomintang army was commanded by the Soviet commander Blucher. Blucher directed all actions to repel the attacks of military cliques and counteroffensive. Also in that small piece of land near Hong Kong, where the Kuomintang lived, the Paper Tigers rebelled, mercenary troops of bankers

[Stephen_Rynerson]

Also in that small piece of land near Hong Kong, where the Kuomintang lived, the Paper Tigers rebelled, mercenary troops of bankers

Hi Nykyus. Do you have more information about this event, like on what date it happened? I'm not immediately recognizing it.

[Nykyus]

Also in that small piece of land near Hong Kong, where the Kuomintang lived, the Paper Tigers rebelled, mercenary troops of bankers

Hi Nykyus. Do you have more information about this event, like on what date it happened? I'm not immediately recognizing it.

THE BEGINNING OF THE REVOLUTION
TO THE FAR LAND
The spring of 1923 was especially intense for me. I was completing the basic course at the military academy, now named after M.V. Frunze, and at the same time preparing to transfer to the last year of the Oriental Faculty of the same academy.
The workers and peasants, who defended their Socialist Fatherland in the most difficult struggle, had an insatiable thirst for learning. Many of my comrades, who came from the ranks of the people, studied at two universities: for example, in the basic course of the military academy and at the agricultural academy. One even, in addition to the military academy, managed to graduate from medical school. This glorious craze swept over me too: I studied at the same time both in the main course and in the Oriental Faculty ...
Why did the Oriental Faculty attract me?
It so happened that already from my childhood, the turbulent events in the Far East excited my imagination more than others. First it was the Chinese popular uprising in 1900 against foreign invaders, then the Russo-Japanese War. I remember that at that time I was looking for and looking with interest at pictures-luboks on these topics. Many years have passed, and life brought me into contact with living representatives of the Far East. On the fronts of the civil war, I had to fight together with the Chinese comrades, and my interest in China revived with renewed vigor.
In March or April 1918, when I was in command
2nd Red Army Regiment in Gatchina, came to us
a young Chinese man and asked to be accepted as a volunteer. Then he brought a few more Chinese with him, and we also enrolled them. After that, they poured dozens of us. I reported this to the division commander. By his order, a Chinese company was formed to guard some objects.
There was also a detachment of Chinese volunteers in the brigade where I was chief of staff at the end of 1918 or at the beginning of 1919. We shared with them both grief and joy in the battles for the liberation of the Baltic from the German invaders and the White Guards.
I had a desire to learn Chinese. Entering the Oriental Faculty, I did not think that I would ever devote myself to diplomatic work. My fantasy didn't go that far. As in my youth, I just wanted to work in the Far East.
In the commission for the distribution of third-year students to army positions, I was several times persuaded to refuse to study at the Eastern Faculty and go to command a division. A member of the commission, my friend, former colleague and classmate Nikolai Ivanovich Zhabin, was especially persistent in seeking my consent. "The army needs commanders," he said. Zhabin did not even suspect that he himself would soon have to select military advisers for the National Revolutionary Army of China.
We were preparing for the final exams and for the defense of theses. Somehow, the audience became aware of the arrival in Moscow from China of Anatoly Ilyich Gekker, the former head of our academy. It was said that he should select students for work in China. And then one day the chief's secretary said to me: "Anatoly Ilyich asks you to come in." I heard "Anatoly Vasilyevich", whose lectures I liked to listen to, and I asked with surprise: "Comrade Lunacharsky ?!"
"No, Gekker, Anatoly Ilyich," the secretary explained and added, "he is waiting for you in the commissar's office."
In bewilderment, I approached the door, it could not even occur to me why the former boss might need me.
We are used to seeing Gekker in military uniform. Now he was in civilian clothes, and at first I did not recognize him. The civilian suit gave him that "classic" image of a diplomat, which has developed in my imagination.
Anatoly Ilyich greeted us cordially and motioned for us to sit down. Looking at me attentively, he asked the usual "questionnaire" questions: social origin, last positions and rank in the old army, time of entry into the Red Army, participation in the civil war, party membership.
I answered:
— From peasants, in the old army i finished his service as a staff captain as a company commander. At the front in early 1918, i voluntarily joined the Red Army; i began the Civil War on the first day of the German offensive — February 18, 1918 and ended with the campaign in Poland — in the fall of 1920; at the front i commanded a regiment for a year and a half, was chief of staff of the brigade and commanded a brigade for more than a year; candidate for party membership.
Are you a wartime officer?
- Yes.
- I am older than you, from regular officers, I finished my service in the old army as a lieutenant colonel.
And looking at the present commissar of the academy Muklevich, Gekker asked:
— Do you have any questions for Comrade Cherepanov?
“No,” Muklevich replied. — I have known Comrade Cherepanov since the autumn of 1918. During the preparations for the attack on Pskov, he was the chief of staff of the brigade. And at the academy, he proved to be a disciplined and capable commander. As I have already told you, I am in favor of the candidacy of Comrade Cherepanov.
They let me go, saying that the next day at 10 o'clock in the morning I would go to Anatoly Ilyich.
The next day, in the morning, my classmates gathered in Gekker's room: Yakov German, Pavel Smolentsev, as well as Nikolai Gereshatov and Vladimir Polyak, who had already passed the exams for the basic course, but were left at the academy to graduate from the Oriental Faculty.
Gekker took us to the headquarters of the Red Army for "reviews", and my fate was sealed. Upon learning of Sun Yat-sen's request to the Soviet government, all five of us agreed to volunteer to go to a distant land.
... In Moscow, on Vozdvizhenka (now Kalinin Street), we, five young people in military uniform, went into a department store. We went up to the department of ready-made clothes and stopped in indecision in front of the counter.
Nikolai Tereshatov, the oldest of us, tall, broad-boned, with a cheerful round face, looked at the costumes and said:
- Here's the challenge! I never thought I'd have to wear that damned lapsard. I have no idea how to start it ... Maybe you, Sasha, can help? - He turned to me.
- Found a consultant! I, Nikolai, have not sewn not only a suit, a jacket in my life. Yasha will help us - he was a clerk before military service. He must have been wearing this mysterious outfit.
“He wore it, although not for long,” replied the tall, lean, neatly combed Estonian Herman.
He stared up at the ceiling as if advice was written there, and after a short pause he said:
- First of all, you need to decide what color ...
“Of course, gray, everyone wears gray abroad,” Volodya Polyak, a short man with a carefully combed bald head, interrupted Yasha self-confidently.
After some deliberation, Nikolai, Yasha and I bought the same gray herringbone suits, Volodya - gray in a small check, and Pavel Smolentsev did not succumb to our "gray" hobby and purchased a dark blue suit.
Having agreed to meet in the evening in a restaurant, already in civilian clothes, we went about our business.
Yasha and I went to the hostel and started to change clothes.
"We'll have to wear ties from now on," Yasha said.
How to tie a tie, I had no idea, and nothing worked for me. I looked like a far-sighted person trying to thread a needle without glasses. Finally, Yasha got tired of teaching me, and he tied a tie on me. He did this patiently for the next two weeks, until I mastered this complex art.
We boyishly wanted to show off our new outfit. We went out to Tverskaya (now Gorky Street) and were confused. Before dressing in a new solid dress, we somehow did not pay attention to the fact that our people, who had endured the First World War, foreign intervention and civil war, dressed in order. Here we are, the same Soviet people, suddenly appeared dressed up like London dandies. It was embarrassing, and we tried to get home as soon as possible.
A week later we were in Transbaikalia ...
"We'll be passing the border soon," warned Anatoly Ilyich Gekker, who was traveling with us.
We did not leave the window, but there was no sign of the boundary in the monotonous terrain. The train imperceptibly approached the station Manchuria. Our car was immediately cordoned off by Chinese soldiers, who looked at us with curiosity. Only then did we feel that the door of our native home had been slammed shut behind us.
In Changchun we were going to make a transfer. Gekker decided not to go to the city.
"It's better to wait at the station," he said. "Let's attract less attention."
But it turned out the other way around. Word of our arrival spread among the local white émigrés, and soon they filled the small station. The police have disappeared. Who knows, maybe her agents “whispered” to the emigrants about our arrival in order to provoke an incident.
With tension, but without fear, we peered into the faces of these people. Not so long ago the civil war ended, and we still felt a sharp hatred for the White Guard renegades.
Three or four emigrants continuously passed by. They angrily regarded us as some kind of unseen, the ladies made grimaces. But there were no outcries or explicit threats. Then the drunken editor of the local White Guard newspaper appeared—a frail, disheveled little man. Curving, he slid towards us, raised his hand, as if defending himself against a possible blow, and shouted hysterically:
— Bolsheviks!
And then, frightened, darted into the crowd.
When the train arrived, the police appeared. The tense atmosphere was relieved. But this meeting is
passed without a trace: we became more alert.
On the train, I was not lucky: all of our people were accommodated with each other, and my share fell next to some plump, well-dressed man.
Nikolai Tereshatov immediately made a "prediction" about my neighbor:
- The White Guards planted an agent. Judging by the physique - a former colonel. Pay attention - the fingers on the left hand are mutilated: probably from the rupture of the capsule of a hand grenade. Bad luck for you, Sasha, out of the fire and into the snow. What good, still suffocate at night. Hard case. But Yasha and I are nearby - we will guard. In which case, shout or knock. We will immediately come to the rescue.
Lying on the top shelf, I imperceptibly glanced at the "Colonel". He locked the door with a chain, lay down, but did not extinguish the fire: perhaps he, too, felt uneasy in the same compartment with the Bolshevik. But I thought otherwise - waits until I fall asleep. “Well, no, it won't. As long as you don't fall asleep. He'll attack, I won't give in," I decided, touching the handle of the revolver in my pocket, and... dozed off. I woke up from a strong knock: someone was breaking on the door.
"Attack!" - I realized and shouted to the "colonel", who with a trembling hand reached for the chain: "Do not unlock!"
The door continued to pound.
Who is there, what do you need? the Colonel asked plaintively.
— Open! I heard Nikolai's voice.
Nikolai and Yasha rushed in through the open door and, seeing that there was no fight between us, stopped in bewilderment.
- What did you have here? Nicholas asked.
“Nothing, everything is fine,” I replied.
- Like nothing, but who moaned?
I don't know, I was sleeping and didn't hear anything.
- I think so. I groaned,” the “colonel” said embarrassingly. - It happens to me sometimes, especially when I fall asleep on my back. In addition, yesterday, at parting, my friend and I had a hearty dinner. Please excuse me, for God's sake, for worrying you.
It was "much ado about nothing". Yes, and my companion in the coupe; as it turned out the next day, it was not a colonel-mic and not even a military man, but an employee of the branch of the Russian-Asiatic Bank in Tientsin.
The further way to Beijing passed without any incidents.


IN PEKIN
On June 21, 1923, we arrived in Beijing. On the station square, our eyes were dazzled by the movement of continuously honking cars, carriages, gigs, rickshaws, coolies and a motley crowd of passers-by. The noise was deafening. The rickshaws who offered their services shouted, the coachmen shouted at the passers-by. The pedlars of all sorts of goods honked each in their own way: some beat on mallets, such as could be seen on our night watchmen, others strummed, as in an orchestra, on steel triangles, still others blew their urine into some kind of brass horns, fourth, like us in the old days, attracted the attention of buyers with different cries. All these sounds merged into some kind of unique symphony. .
We did not have time to sort out this gigantic human anthill, when suddenly, covering the noise of the crowd, the majestic melody of the old Russian anthem “Glorified is our Lord” sounded. On the square not far from us marched, playing on the move, a brass band. Behind him, slowly drawn by a train of horses, a strange carriage with a canopy moved. We asked the mission workers who met us what was going on. It turned out that the coffin with the remains of a wealthy Chinese was sent to the ancestral cemetery.
- And what does “Kol is glorious” have to do with it?
- "How glorious"? And it's very simple. Apparently, the Chinese bandmaster turned to some musician from white emigrants with a request to pick up a funeral march for him for the orchestra, and he, without hesitation, sold him an old Russian anthem.
Among the staff of the embassy was a professor of Chinese, Alexei Ivanovich Ivanov, from whom many of us, including myself, studied in Moscow.
At the head of the Soviet mission, the party and government placed intelligent people who, both in business qualities and in purely diplomatic, protocol wisdom, were at the height of the situation: Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary L. M. Karakhan, First Counselor Davtyan, and others. and we had to master the rules of etiquette.
Most novice "red diplomats", as they were then called, could almost impromptu speak to an audience during any political event. For an hour, or even more, they spoke logically, colorfully, without text, explained and convinced. But in everything related to spoons and forks, good manners and other “good manners” skills, at first the employees made many mistakes, despite the instruction and care of the peculiar embassy “uncles”, like Professor A. I. Ivanov.
I'll tell you about our first, rather funny "appearance". The cases are insignificant, *but it can serve as an illustration of our "torment" at the first attempts to master an unfamiliar environment.
At the end of August, A. I. Gekker called us and said that on September 1, the winter season of dinners with music and dances opens at the Wagon Li Hotel.
“It’s time for you,” he declared, “to get used to foreign society. "Departure into the world" let's start with Herman and you, comrade Cherepanov. And then the other comrades will visit.
In the evening, dressed in a tuxedo, I went into Yasha's room and found him in front of a mirror. Looking at my black bow tie, Yasha grimaced and said:
- It's time for you, Sasha, to know that with a tuxedo you need to wear not a black, but a white "butterfly".
I returned to my room, quickly changed my tie, and off we went.
For solidity, the old-timers recommended that we go with a lady, and for this we “borrowed” the wife of P. I. Smolentsev.
The Chinese waiter immediately determined that we were Soviet citizens. He seated us at the best table, from where everything was clearly visible.
There were many spectacular men among the foreigners in the hall. Women with rouged and heavily powdered faces looked rather vulgar. We proudly looked at our lady. She seemed to us like a swan in a flock of ducks.
Played jazz. The dance floor was filled to capacity. We had dinner, we didn't feel like dancing, but we didn't know fashionable Western dances.
Our 'first trip to the world' was a success. But as it turned out later, our friends were very worried. After taking us to a restaurant, they drove straight to the cinema and, to their horror, they saw in the movie that not white, but black ties are worn with a tuxedo.
Of course, all the "torments" we experienced at first seem ridiculous and naive now. In fact, everything turned out to be much simpler than we expected. And we quickly mastered the conventions of the diplomatic world.
Soon we found teachers and began to intensively study Chinese and English. We looked closely at the life of the Chinese people and, with the help of the mission workers, studied the internal and external situation of China at that time.
In Peking, the history of the liberation struggle of the Chinese people seemed to come to life before us. We were outraged by the order in the embassy quarter. The Chinese were not allowed into its territory, surrounded by a stone wall with huge heavy gates. It was a "state within a state" like the international settlements in Shanghai and other cities. Foreign garrisons were stationed on the territories of the concessions and foreign police were operating. On the raids of the "open ports" were foreign warships.
In those years, on the way from the center of Beijing to its outskirts, we seemed to pass through whole centuries into the depths of history. The stream of fashionable cars gave way to rows of rickshaws, wheelbarrows, wagons and camel caravans. On the outskirts, you could not see modern mansions and electric-lit hotels and restaurants; they were built up with earthen huts-fans, dimly lit by oil lamps.
In Beijing, we learned a lot about China that was new, interesting, and unknown to the Soviet people in those years, although now all this information is available to every our schoolchild.
At that time, we still knew little about the young Communist
the origin of the Chinese Party, which was formed from individual Marxist circles and workers' organizations. All our information about the Chinese Communists was limited to some information about the First Congress of the CCP, which opened in Shanghai on July 1, 1921. And we were told about the Marxist professor Li Ta-chao, about the "May 4th movement", about the revolutionary students of Peking University.
At that time, the attention of the political circles of Peking was riveted to the problem of establishing Soviet-Chinese diplomatic relations and to the activities of the South Chinese revolutionary government headed by Sun Yat-sen.
When, on February 1, 1923, the combined Yunnan-Guangxi army expelled Chen Jiong-mn's troops from Guangzhou, Sun Yat-sen returned to this city, headed the government of South China and invited Soviet military advisers to work.
Our country's relations with the Beijing government were very complicated. In July 1919, the Soviet government canceled all unequal treaties concluded by tsarist Russia with China and officially declared its readiness to establish equal diplomatic relations with China.
The reactionary Peking government ignored the friendly actions of the Soviet government for a long time. But the broad masses of the Chinese people soon realized that Soviet Russia was a friend and ally ready to support their struggle for liberation.
In the end, the Peking government was forced on May 31, 1924 to sign the Soviet-Chinese agreement.
Our group came to China almost a year before this historic event.
Studying the situation in the country, we still did not have any definite idea of what kind of work awaits us in the future.
One fine September day we went to the railway station to meet the first Extraordinary Ambassador of the Soviet Union to China, LM Karakhan. The mission staff and their wives arrived at the station. Many officials from various Chinese departments, organizations, as well as from foreign missions gathered here.
The well-known adventurer cornet Savin, “the contender for the Bulgarian throne”, stood out sharply for his appearance and attire. With a large bushy beard, in a worn military coat from the time of Alexander III, without shoulder straps, he looked like a bailiff of bad memory. Later, Savin repeatedly bothered L. M. Karakhan with requests that he be allowed to travel to the Soviet Union to lecture on how he claimed the Bulgarian throne.
As soon as the smiling L. M. Karakhan appeared from the vestibule of the car, the Chinese orchestra began to play the Internationale. Those meeting the ring surrounded the arrived ambassador.
Soon we were warmly received by L. M. Karakhan. He asked how our studies were going, how we settled down, and hinted that soon, with the arrival of a comrade from Moscow, the situation with our future work would be determined. He did not name names; later we realized that it was then about Mikhail Markovich Borodin.
“In the meantime,” Karakhan said, “keep learning.
Finally, M. M. Borodin arrived in China.
When we first met, we examined him with curiosity: tall, broad-shouldered, with a broad forehead, intelligent eyes, a large soldier's mustache and long wavy hair cut in a brace. Before saying hello to us, the military, he made a movement with his hand to his right temple, as if taking "under the visor." M. M. Borodin, like many purely civilian people, had a weakness to imitate the military.
None of us had met Borodin before, and only here, in China, did we become aware of some facts of his interesting biography.
M. M. Borodin was born on July 9, 1884 in the former Vitebsk province. He spent his childhood in Latvia, where he studied at a Russian school, and then entered the university. As a young man, he joined the revolutionary movement and was in the propaganda circles of the Latvian Social Democracy, was a member of the RSDLP from 1903.
M. M. Borodin took an active part in the revolutionary events of 1905 in Riga, where from January, under the party nickname Kirill, he began to work among the Latvian Social Democrats.
As a delegate to the Riga organization of the RSDLP, M. M. Borodin took part in the party conference in Tammerfors and was elected one of the three members of the presidium of the conference. He also participated in the Stockholm Unity Congress in 1906.
Shortly after the congress, he was arrested, after his release he emigrated to England, and then to the USA.
In the USA, Borodin first lived in Boston; in 1908 he moved to Chicago, where he organized a political school for emigrants, which was very popular. At the same time, Borodin was a member of the American Socialist Party and acted as treasurer of the Aid to Russian Political Prisoners society.
In July 1918 Borodin returned to Moscow. For a short time he traveled to England, then was appointed the first Consul General of the RSFSR in Mexico. And now, at the invitation of Sun Yat-sen, M. M. Borodin came to China.
M. M. Borodin often talked for a long time with L. M. Karakhan. At the end of the year we were told that Herman and Polyak were immediately leaving with Borodin via Shanghai to Guangzhou, and a month later Tereshatov and I would follow them. Smolentsev remains in Beijing.
At the beginning of January 1924, L. M. Karakhan informed Tereshatov and me that we should leave for Shanghai, where an employee of the Soviet consulate Vilde would meet us and send us further to Guangzhou at the disposal of Borodin.
... In Shanghai, on the platform of the station, a short, thick man approached us and said: “I am Vilde!”
How did you recognize us right away? Nicholas was surprised.
“By unshaven faces,” Vilde replied, smiling.
- Tell me please! - said Nikolai, embarrassedly feeling his chin.
Before the steamer left for Guangzhou, we got acquainted with Shanghai. We met impoverished White Guard emigrants. The officers walked around in worn tunics, with rumpled, broken shoulder straps.
In the evening, Vilde decided to show us one of the best dance halls in the city. We took a box in the second tier. From here we could clearly see how, in the intervals between the general dances, Russian emigrants showed their “art” and, out of need, “transformed” into artists: they danced, shouted romances, organized wretched jazz.
“Dance halls, bars, and even brothels are packed with white emigrants,” Vilde said. “Hopeless poverty. Almost all emigrants would be happy to return to their homeland with a confession, but they are afraid that they will be dealt with by the White Guard elite, which lives at their expense. It is headed by such people as the former Far Eastern “ruler” Merkulov, who thoroughly, “in a businesslike way” robbed Primorye in his time. Now some wealthy emigrants have invested in local businesses, others have opened shops, taverns, others are eating away the loot. And they don’t give a damn about the misfortunes of the thousands of begging emigrants they have fooled... Yes, Merkulov himself is light in sight, Vilde pointed to an overweight man dressed in a gray suit.
Entering the box, Merkulov sat down at a table with his back to us. He bent his ox neck with a fat back of his head and stared blankly down, where his recent subjects were "dancing" on bread and water.
We left Shanghai for Guangzhou on an English steamer. When approaching Hong Kong (Xianggang), the captain told us the heavy news received by radio: Vladimir Ilyich Lenin had died. We were then in the wardroom, where the ship's officers * and several European passengers had gathered.
The news shocked us. We got up. Looking at us, the others also stood up. Tears flowed down the cheeks. Incredible grief squeezed the chest; "Lenin is gone!..".
Nikolai and I, leaning our chests on the railing of the deck, looked for a long time without a word into the leaden waters, mentally swearing to ourselves to work away from the Motherland in the way that befits Soviet Leninist citizens.

IN GUANGZHOU
Guangzhou at that time was the revolutionary center of China. There was a tense political life here. The revolutionary forces of the country were grouped around Sun Yat-sen, who for forty years tirelessly waged a national revolutionary struggle and, despite heavy defeats, painfully sought new ways to liberate the people.
VI Lenin highly valued the tireless revolutionary activity of Sun Yat-sen, called him a revolutionary democrat full of nobility and heroism.
The name of Sun Yat-sen is well known to the Soviet people. I had the good fortune to meet the great Chinese revolutionary-democrat, and my impressions of him remained fresh and unforgettable for the rest of my life.
Based on the experience of his entire revolutionary activity, under the influence of the Great October Socialist Revolution, which he described as "the great hope of mankind", Sun Yat-sen came to the conclusion that revolutionaries cannot succeed without contact with the working and peasant masses.
Sun Yat-sen invested in the revolutionary program he had previously created the "Three People's Principles" - a new content. The principle of nationalism, he explained, must be understood as a resolute struggle against the aggression of imperialism. The principle of democracy is like the creation of a democratic system. The principle of the people's well-being—as equalization of rights to land and the limitation of capital. To put into practice the new "three people's principles," Sun Yat-sen developed three political guidelines: an alliance with Soviet Russia, an alliance with the Communist Party, and support for the peasants and workers.
F. Engels said: "The crown of human life is a feat." Such a feat was accomplished by Dr. Sun Yat-sen a year before his death, at the First Congress of the Kuomintang, when, in the most difficult situation, in the struggle against the opposition of the right-wing Kuomintang, he managed to emerge victorious, resolutely defending his new revolutionary program.
At the end of 1923, Sun Yat-sen created the Provisional Central Executive Committee of the Kuomintang, consisting of nine members, including Liao Chung-kai, Tan Png-shan, and others. Preliminary preparations began for the reorganization of the Kuomintang, and new steps were taken to rapprochement with Soviet Russia . However, the right wing of the Kuomintang did not approve of Sun Yat-sen's new revolutionary policy. The right-wing Tomindanists did not go further than the ideas of "Western parliamentarism". They especially feared the organizational strengthening of the Kuomintang and the inculcation of revolutionary discipline in it. In a complex and unstable situation, Sun Yat-sen and Liao Chung-kai had to wage a fierce struggle with them.
At that time, in the country, along with large militaristic groups that controlled several provinces, such as the Anglo-American Zhili clique led by Cao Kun and Wu Pei-fu, the Anhui clique led by the Japanese protege Duan Qi-rui, the Fengtian clique Zhang Tso -lin, smaller warlord generals "gou-yu" ("dog-fish") acted. Usually their power extended to one province or even to several counties. All of them waged continuous wars among themselves, seeking to increase their possessions not so much for the sake of political influence, but for the sake of expanding sources of income.
In the province of Guangdong, including its capital Guangzhou, more than a dozen militarists of different strength fought among themselves, who at times united to fight the northern militarists. In 1922, General Chen Chiung-ming, who did not want to submit to the northern militarists, using the slogan "defending the Republic" and the name of Sun Yat-sen for his own purposes, launched an offensive against the province of Guangdong from the south of Fujian Province, captured Guangzhou and invited Sun Yat-sen to organize the government of South China. At that time Sun Yat-sen still erroneously believed that he would be able to use the troops of individual militarists in the interests of the revolution. In April 1922, in Guangzhou, Sun Yat-sen was elected President of the Republic. But in fact, Chen Chiong-ming concentrated all power in his hands, taking up the posts of Minister of the Interior, military provincial governor and commander-in-chief.
After the Zhili clique of militarists came to power in the country, the British and Americans—the masters of Wu Pei-fu and Chen Chiung-ming—ordered their lackeys to reach an agreement. Then Chen Chiong-ming decided that he no longer needed Sun Yat-sen. Yes, Sun Yat-sen did not suit his masters, the imperialists. In June 1922, Chen Chiung-ming carried out an armed coup. Sun Yat-sen and his supporters were forced to flee to Shanghai. But in February 1923, after one of the groups of southern militarists expelled Chen Chiung-ming from Guangzhou, Sun Yat-sei again arrived and organized a revolutionary government.
There was no unity in the new grouping of southern militarists who captured Guangzhou. Between its leaders all the time there were frictions and mutual distrust was felt. The popular name of Sun Yat-sen was necessary for the militarists in order to hide their deception of the people and to hold out in Guangdong.
Having no real power, Sun Yat-sen skillfully used the contradictions between the local militarists and rallied around him the revolutionary masses, the progressive circles of the intelligentsia and the national bourgeoisie.
Under the control of the government of Sun Yat-sen was only the central part of the province of Guangdong - a corridor stretching from north to south.
From the north, from the provinces of Hunan and Chiangxi, the Guangzhou government was threatened by the troops of Wu Pei-fu. In the south of Hong Kong, the English colony, like a huge octopus, extended its tentacles to the province of Guangdong and drew vital juices from it.
The eastern part of Guangdong up to the Shilong-Wei-chou-Heyuan line was occupied by the troops of Chen Chiung-ming.
In the northern part of Guangxi, there was a struggle between the governor of the province, Lu Rong-ting, and General Shun Hong-yong, a formal ally) of Sun Yat-sen.
The south of Guangxi with the city of Nanning was occupied by the troops of several militarists nominally subordinate to Sun Yat-sen. They took possession of this territory without much difficulty, since General Li Zong-ren (an ally of Lu Rong-ting), who was supposed to counteract their invasion, unexpectedly declared his neutrality at the decisive moment. Thus, the situation in Guangxi did not pose a danger to the Guangzhou government.
The southwestern part of Guangdong to the line Loding - Enping - Lotan from about. Henam was occupied by troops subordinate to Chen Jiong-ming.
In the zone controlled by the government of Sun Yat-sen, and in the city of Guangzhou, there were various militaristic groups that called themselves the "allied army" and carried out the orders of the government. Of these, the most powerful, combat-ready, and best armed was the Yunnan army under the command of General Yang Hsi-mn. It consisted of three corps:
1st Corps (5500 bayonets, 1st and 2nd "infantry divisions") was stationed in Guangzhou;
The 2nd corps (8 thousand bayonets, 3rd and 4th infantry divisions) was located partly in Guangzhou, partly along the Guangzhou-Kowloon railway. In addition to the ground forces, its commander, General Fan Shi-shen, had five river and two sea vessels;
The 3rd corps under the command of General Hu Yang-shun (5,000 infantry, 5th and 6th infantry divisions) occupied the areas of Tsengcheng and the Guangzhou-Samshui railway.
In total, the army of General Yang Xi-mn numbered up to 22-23 thousand soldiers.
The hired soldiers of this army, who came from Yunnan Province, were torn away from their native places. Poor relations with the local population, who hated them as alien robbers, as well as stick discipline and executions for the slightest disobedience, somehow maintained the "unity" of the Yunnan troops. Both officers and soldiers had no idea what they were fighting for. The masters of the army — Yunnan generals — paid nm salaries, clothed them, fed them, and they followed them wherever they were led, without thinking about why and why.
The entry into the Kuomintang of some senior officials, such as Yang Xi-min (commander of the Eastern Front, and a number of others, was explained, of course, not by ideological, but by practical considerations.
The Yunnan army, considered the most cohesive, was also torn apart by internal contradictions.
There was a fierce struggle for influence between the commander-in-chief (he is the commander of the 1st corps) Yang Xi-ming and the commander of the 2nd corps Fan Shi-shen. Moreover, Fan Shi-shen was clearly stronger, since there was more cohesion and discipline in his corps.
Fan Shi-shen was in charge of collecting taxes on the territory occupied by the corps, and the division commanders were financially dependent on him. In the Yang Xi-mn corps, division commanders collected taxes from the local population independently and obeyed the corps commander only nominally, and the 2nd Division sometimes did not recognize him at all. General Yang Xi-mn, with a bent back, always a gloomy lime tree, with a drooping mustache, resembled a man who had not overslept after a heavy hangover. He retained his influence in the army by his ability to maneuver in a difficult situation of intrigue.
The complete opposite of him was General Fan Shi-shen, physically healthy, tall, handsome, with a jet-black mustache. Excessive self-confidence ruined him, as will be discussed later.
Despite all the contradictions, the leaders of the Yunnan army were smart enough not to openly start an internecine strife in the face of hostile armies of other militarists, especially the Guangzhou generals.
The Guangzhou militarists could not accept the fact that the "aliens" —the strong Yunnan army — seized sources of income in Guangzhou: iron
roads, gambling and brothels, fees from the wine and tobacco trade, etc.
The Guangzhou army was second in number and strength. Sun Yat-sen hoped that with the support of the Guangzhou government, sooner or later she would play first fiddle in the southern grouping. In fact, the owners of this army cared only about their personal interests.
At the head of the Guangzhou army was General Xu Chun-zhn, who was also the commander of the Southwestern Front. Xu Chun-zhi was a member of the Central Committee of the Kuomintang and held a centrist position in it. This handsome young general with emphatically correct maiyoami recently belonged to the "golden youth" of Guangzhou, who spent time in violent carousals. Then he settled down and became a "skilled master" of the revolutionary phrase, by no means burdened with excessive principles.
Of the three corps of the Guangzhou Army, only the 2nd (and even then not all of its units) really obeyed Xu Chun-zhi. The commander of the 1st Corps, Liao Hong-kai, showed complete independence and was in strained relations with the army commander. His corps, which occupied the area southwest of Guangzhou, consisted of the 12th, 13th
and 19th separate brigades numbering about 4,700 bayonets - the combat value of the corps was small.
The commander of the 3rd Corps of the Guangzhou Army, General Li Fu-lin, was a candidate for the Kuomintang City Committee. This elderly man, a native of Guangdong, led a huge gang of sea pirates before the Xinhai Revolution. During the revolution, Sun Yat-sen attracted him to his side. While the government of Sun Yat-sen existed, Li Fu-lin never opposed him, although he did not actively support him. Li Fu-lin's corps had about 4 thousand bayonets. The main forces of the corps were located on Henam Island, the rest to the south along the Pearl River (Zhujiang). Sun Yat-sen assigned this corps to fight numerous small gangs. In fact, this "combat unit" was in collusion with local bandits and kept them in obedience, receiving a certain percentage from robberies. General Li Fu-lin repeatedly held a number of high positions in the provincial government, but they did not last long, as they were usually not profitable enough.
Upon acquaintance with the corps of Li Fu-lin, it turned out that he was quite combat-ready. The general himself was more engaged in commercial and political activities, entrusting practical issues of the leadership of the corps to his brother.
The 2nd Corps consisted of the 1st, 2nd and 3rd divisions, the 7th, 8th, 11th and 14th separate brigades and four separate regiments. Individual brigades (with the exception of the 7th) and individual regiments were of no combat value and were only suitable for collecting taxes from the population.
The 1st Infantry Division consisted of two brigades. This division was considered one of the best in the Guangzhou Army. It was located in the Wuzhou area and had 3,200 bayonets.
The division commander, General Li Ji-shen, a Guangxi by birth, was a prominent member of the Kuomintang Central Executive Committee. Short, stocky, with bulging eyes, he was not very sociable. Li Ji-shen had no doubt that he was called upon to play a major role in the political arena.
Li Ji-shen was steadily advancing through the ranks before our eyes. He listened attentively to the proposals of Soviet advisers, quickly implemented them and willingly helped to establish political work in the military units under his command. As a result, his troops would only strengthen their combat capability.
A few words about how the fate of Li Ji-shen subsequently developed.
In 1927, Li Ji-shen, then governor of Guangdong, committed the biggest crime before the revolution. After the counterrevolutionary coup of Chiang Kai-ish, recognizing the power of the Nanjing government formed by him, Li Ji-shen took part in the suppression of the Guangzhou commune. Since 1931, he began to lean towards opposition to the regime of Chiang Kai-shek, and since 1933 he began to actively fight against his clique, for which he was expelled from the Kuomintang.
At the end of 1937, when the war against the Japanese invaders began and a united anti-Japanese front was forming in the country, reconciliation took place between Chiang Kai-shek and Li Ji-shen.‘Chiang Kai-shek appointed Li Ji-shen to a command post in Southwest China and restored him to the Kuomintang.
After the fall of Wuhan, at the end of 1938, Chiang Kai-shek arrived in Guilin. I happened to attend a banquet hosted by the local authorities on the occasion of the arrival of Chiang Kai-shek; he was seated next to Li Ji-shen. I observed the behavior of these allies involuntarily. Neither of them looked at each other during the entire meal. Li Ji-shen sat frowning, not touching the food: perhaps he was afraid of poison. Dried up, skin and bones, Chiang Kai-shek frowned somewhere over the heads of those sitting. He looked like a hunted animal, doomed to fall into a trap. By the end of the dinner, Chiang Kai-shek squinted at Li Ji-shen and with a smile like a dog's grin, threw: "I'll take it tomorrow." Li Ji-shen recognized me — after dinner he came to me. In the presence of an interpreter, who was undoubtedly a man of Chiang Kai-shek, he began to criticize the existing orders in the Kuomintang army, warmly recalling the People's Revolutionary Army of the Northern Campaign, how the political one was organized by the Communists.work.
The next day, Li Ji-shen was received by Chiang Kai-shek and appointed head of the Department for the Leadership of the guerrilla Movement. This position was essentially nominal, since the Kuomintang did not lead any partisan movement. The anti-Japanese People's guerrilla movement in the rear of the Japanese army was led by the Communist Party of China, which created active guerrilla bases in many areas.
My last meeting with Li Ji-shen took place in November 1956, when, as part of the Soviet delegation, I visited Beijing and Nanjing to celebrate the 90th anniversary of the birth of Sun Yat-sen. By that time, Li Ji-shen had become chairman of the Kuomintang Revolutionary Committee and deputy chairman of the Central People's Government of the People's Republic of China. I learned from the newspapers that Li Ji-shen died in Beijing on October 9, 1959.
But let's go back to 1924. The 2nd Division of the 2nd Corps of the Guangzhou Army was stationed three kilometers northeast of Guangzhou. It had three regiments totaling 2,160 bayonets. Its commander was General Zhang Ming-te, a Kuomintang member who had no military education. He needed the division not so much for military operations as for some kind of commercial manipulation. In itself, the figure of General Zhang Ming-de is interesting, and we will meet him again during the first Eastern campaign.
The commander of the 2nd Division had two small seaworthy vessels at his disposal, which he used for his own trading needs.
The 3rd Infantry Division of 3,000 bayonets included two brigades (four regiments), which were located in the southwest and in the west of the province. The division was commanded by General Xi Chang-ting.
The 7th Brigade with the 16th Separate Infantry Regiment attached to it under the overall command of General Xu Ji (brother of General Xu Chun-zhi) numbered 2,200 bayonets and was located near the Shitan railway station. Outwardly, her soldiers looked fit and drilled. General Xu himself
Ji was a completely colorless and weak-willed person.
A separate police brigade under the command of General Wu Te-cheng consisted of two regiments and a battalion of Mauser. It had 1,300 bayonets and a squadron of cavalry.
A native of Guangzhou, Wu Te-cheng simultaneously held the post of chief (police) of the city. Lawyer > by education, he did not receive special military training, but he was well versed in military matters and enjoyed authority among his subordinates.
Among other generals, Wu Te-cheng stood out for his higher culture, remarkable intelligence, cunning, and therefore gained considerable weight in the society of these military figures. According to his political beliefs, he belonged rather to the right wing of the Kuomintang, but for the time being he skillfully hid it and was considered a leftist.
The last time I had a chance to meet Wu Te-cheng was during the war against Japanese imperialism. Our meeting took place in the winter of 1938/39 in the north - Guangdong Province, in the city of Shaoguang, where the headquarters of the Southern Front was located and where I came from Changsha.
. Wu Te-cheng was the governor of Guangdong at that time. Together with General Zhang Fa-kui, the commander of the Southern Front, they met us at the station and took us to a mansion on the outskirts of the city. Dressed in the English style, Wu Te-cheng, as in the old days, looked like a gentleman. The Sino-Japanese war and the disasters that befell the Chinese people obviously did not particularly bother him.
We met him cordially, like old acquaintances. But Wu Te-cheng clearly didn't have as much respect for the advisers this time as before. He knew that his career now did not depend on the success of combat operations. His ambition was quite satisfied with his position, he did not count on more, and there were enough funds in his current account in the bank, accumulated through "economic activity" in the province.
We talked about the past. I remembered the brutally murdered Liao Zhong-kai. I didn't know then that Wu Te-cheng was one of the organizers of this murder.
—Yes, it's a pity for a person," Wu Te—cheng said, looking somewhere to the side, and turned the conversation to another topic.
Usually impetuous, energetic, General Zhang Fa-kui seemed sluggish and ill this time. He still hasn 't recovered from .He was overworked by heavy fighting for Wuhan. I also remembered General Zhang Fa-kui from the First Civil Revolutionary War. At first he • was a division commander, then during the Northern Campaign commander of the 4th Corps. At that time, he served the revolution honestly and was considered a good general.
In 1927, the best corps, the so-called "iron army", was under the command of General Zhang Fa-kui. Instead of speaking out at the decisive moment against the traitor Chiang Kai-shek, Zhang Fa-kui took an "ambivalent" position and covered himself with shame by taking part in the suppression of the Canton Commune.
After the victory of the revolution and the formation of the People's Republic of China, Zhang Fa-kui did not go over to the side of the people, as did many other generals of the National Revolutionary Army during the Northern Campaign. However, he did not go into the service of Chiang Kai-shek. He "lives his own house" in Hong Kong...
Thus, in the motley Guangzhou army there were up to 28 thousand soldiers armed with rifles, there were 122 machine guns and four usable cannons.
The Hunan army was next in importance after the Guangzhou army, its number reached up to 14 thousand people. Shortly before ours .The Chinese Hunan army suffered heavy losses in the war with the army of Wu Pei-fu, but despite this, both in combat and in organizational terms, it has been completely preserved. At the head of the army was an elderly general Tan Yan-kai.
His closest aide and direct leader of the fighting was General Cheng Qian, a member of the Kuomintang Central Committee. At the time described, Cheng Qian served as Minister of War in the government of Sun Yat-sen. He belonged to the left wing of the Kuomintang.'
The weakest in both numbers and organization was the Guangxi Army under the command of General Liu Zhen-huan. There was utter chaos in this army. It was said that there were more generals than officers in it, and more officers than soldiers, more rifles than cartridges. And this anecdote was not far from the truth.
With a strength of 5 thousand people, this army consisted of seven infantry divisions, of which 1,2 and 3 were located on the Eastern Front, in the area north of Shilun, and the rest — to the south, in the area of the fortress on the islands of Khumyn. He was small, puny, and looked like a man in his huge boots. The fabulous puss in boots, the army commander, General Liu Zhen-huan, did not play any political or military role at that time. His troops were just an appendage of the Yunnan army.
General Zhu Pei-de's small corps stood outside the militaristic groups.
The entire aviation at the disposal of the government consisted of four airplanes and two seaplanes. The aeroplanes produced in 1916 were worn out, there were no spare parts for them at all. The aircraft was commanded by Sun Yat-sen's personal secretary. It was, perhaps, the only military unit that was completely loyal to the government.
Of the naval vessels, there was one cruiser in need of repair, a gunboat and two transports. The gunboat and transports were entrusted to General Ouyang Lin, who did not have not only a naval, but also any other education. Nominally, Ouyang Lin obeyed Sun Yat-sen, but in fact he did not obey anyone and traded confiscated opium, transporting this commodity by ship.
The river group consisted of 22 vessels, including 8 gunboats. All the vessels were poorly covered with unreliable armor, which even penetrated with a rifle bullet from a short distance. The artillery had very poor firing angles, the gunners were poorly trained.
In such a state were the armed forces in the territory controlled by the Guangzhou government in early 1924.
The "allies", as the local militarists called themselves, to some extent really united to protect their feeding trough from the encroachments of the northern militarists and General Chen Jun-inn. Therefore, they verbally recognized General Yang Xi-min as their commander-in-chief. Essentially, as we have seen, they were.separated, and each of them cared only about personal gain. They, like all the feudal militarists
after the revolution of 1911, valued first of all their army. The law of their existence was simple: "There is an army — there is power."
In accordance with this law, the militarists felt in Guangzhou like passengers at a train station waiting for a passing train. Each of them sought to accumulate enough strength to crush competitors in Guangzhou or win back "their" province. As a rule, they did not care at all about the economic development of the territory occupied by them, nor about improving the lives of the population. The militarists were primarily interested in preserving income, i.e. tax revenues, which were distributed monthly among them in the following amounts:
Yunnan Army......... 3 190 000 dollaroo
The militarists were suspicious, secretive, and didn't trust each other a penny. Here is a characteristic record of a correspondent of the Russian Telegraph Agency (ROSTA) about the meeting with General Fan Shi-shen in December 1924: "Today at 4 p.m. our correspondent was received by the Commander of the 2nd Yunnan Army - General Fan Shn-shen. This interview was given after long and persistent attempts to get a meeting with the general. The interview took place only thanks to the assistance of the Chief of Police, General Wu Te-cheng.
At 3:45, our employee was at the headquarters, located in a dilapidated house, somehow propped up with beams so that it would not fall apart. Some colorfulness is given to it by four garlands of multicolored flags and light bulbs, thrown across the street from the headquarters building. The decorations were left after the celebration of the anniversary of the first revolutionary uprising in Yunnan province in 1911 . The entrance to the headquarters was guarded by two sentries who quickly approached our correspondent, demanding a pass. The adjutant on duty came to the rescue, who introduced our correspondent into the reception room. Or rather, it's not a reception room,
and a small, slightly tidy corner in a ruined house. Two beds, a table with two inkwells, a couple of chairs and another round wicker table with a dozen cups eloquently testified that we had entered the living room.
Peeling walls, mice running around on the floor, on which the presence of people obviously did not make much impression; thick webs reaching up to chairs and threatening to cling to the heads of visitors completed the overall impression of the reception room of General Fan Shi-shen's headquarters.
Our correspondent was asked to fill out a questionnaire with a number of questions: first name, last name, address, purpose of arrival, etc. Then the attendant immediately reported the visitor.
"Is General Fan Shi-shen at the headquarters?It was impossible to get an answer to this question. The duty officer does not take the liberty to anticipate the general's desire., to announce whether he is at headquarters or not.
Ten minutes later, they announce to us: "General Fan is not here. The Chief of Staff will receive you.”
Nothing can be done! Not Fan Shi-shen himself, but the chief of staff! I have to put up with it. After going through several long stairs, we get into a large room, something like a secretariat. Two clerks diligently deduce hieroglyphs. An officer kindly asks, "Who are you? From where? Why?”.
We look around in bewilderment. The same dirt, the same impression of a destroyed house temporarily occupied for housing. Probably, the owner is not going to stay here for long. The table at which our employee sat down was probably pulled out of the warehouse of broken things —two drawers were missing, obviously used to warm up the pot, the other two, broken, turned into planks, are waiting for their fate. The table cover is highly suspicious: she's about to fail.
Suddenly there were footsteps in the corridor. Accompanied by several armed soldiers, a tall Chinese man in civilian national costume entered. He sat down next to our employee and greeted him kindly. Fan or not Fan?
He did not bother to report this, and only from the
next conversation it was possible to find out that it was General Fan Shn-shen himself."
These notes of the Moscow correspondent in general correctly convey the situation that we had to see when we arrived in the southern regions of the country.

PREPARATION FOR THE FIRST TO THE KUOMINTANG CONGRESS
The Communist Party of China in June 1923 at its 111th congress gave a correct assessment of the democratic position of Sun-Yat-sen and his struggle against imperialists and feudal lords-milntarnst. The young Communist Party called for the creation of a united front of workers, peasants, petty and national bourgeoisie.
A decision was made on the cooperation of the Communist Party with the Kuomintang and on the entry of communists individually into the Kuomintang while maintaining the organizational and political independence of the Communist Party. The transformation of the Kuomintang into a mass national party, closely connected with the people, was recognized as the most important task. The political line of the Chinese Communists was based on the instructions of V. I. Lenin at the Second Congress of the Comintern on the national and colonial question.
N. Tereshatov and I arrived in Guangzhou on January 25, 1924. Just these days, the First Congress of the Kuomintang was held here. Thanks to the stories of V. Polyak, Y. Herman and especially Mikhail Markovich Borodin, as well as through newspapers and newsletters of the representative of ROSTA, we quickly got acquainted with the situation in Guangzhou, learned in detail about the preparations for the First Congress of the Kuomintang and its meetings. We were immediately included in the work related to the congress.
First Yakov German arrived in Guangzhou at the end of September 1923, and then in early October — M. M. Borodin and Vladimir Polyak.
Sun Yat-sen warmly met M. M. Borodin, asked in detail about the situation in Soviet Russia. Most of all, Sun Yat-sen was interested in military affairs and industry. Mikhail Markovich talked about everything in detail and thereby prepared the ground
for further close cooperation. Telling Sun Yat-sen about the Red Army, M. M. Borodin drew his attention to the importance of political work in the army. After Borodin's detailed information about the structure and combat life of the Soviet military unit, Sun Yat-sen stated: "We don't have this in the army. We need to create all this."
On October 9, Sun Yat-sen hosted a reception in honor of M. M. Borodin, which was attended by prominent figures of the Guangzhou Central government. At the reception, Dr. Sun Yat-sen gave a short speech.
"The Soviet citizens present here," he said, "came from a country that in a short time successfully ended the civil war and took its rightful place among the powers of the world. Soviet Russia deserves to be an example for China."
Sun Yat-sen, on his own behalf and on behalf of those present, asked M. M. Borodin to share his experience of wrestling, and most importantly, to tell what Russia owes its successes to.
In a lengthy speech, M. M. Borodin spoke in detail about Soviet Russia. Borodin's story about how Soviet people understand the "three national principles" made a great impression on everyone.
M. M. Borodin said: "After the victory of the revolution in Soviet Russia, we implemented Soviet democracy, i.e. democracy in the broadest sense of the word, the democracy of millions of workers and peasants. We consider the Soviets to be the most democratic form of government. Naturally, you understand the word "democracy" based on the conditions of Chinese reality. Anyway, we have already implemented two of your three principles, namely nationalism and democracy. In Soviet Russia we have created a state of free nationalities and the most democratic system. As for the third principle, socialism, we have created political and economic conditions that make it possible to implement it."
In particular, Borodin explained in detail the importance of systematic propaganda and agitation among the masses, the need for political work in the army. He stressed that the main task of the Kuomintang is to unite the whole country and make China independent.
Both in this speech and in subsequent ones (on October 16 at a dinner with the Minister of Foreign Affairs and on October 15 at the Governor of Guangdong Liao Zhong-kai), as well as in conversations with Kuomintang leaders, M. M. Borodin persistently pursued the idea of creating a well-organized, cohesive national liberation party that could prepare a revolutionary movement among the masses and lead it.
Even before Borodin's arrival, the Chinese Communist Party had repeatedly tried to prove to Sun Yat-sen and other leaders of the Kuomintang the need to reorganize their party. Sun Yat-sen agreed in principle, but postponed practical measures. It was only with Borodin's arrival in Guangzhou that proposals for reorganization began to be implemented.
On October 15, a large rally of Kuomintang members was organized in the public garden of the city, attended by Sun Yat-sen and M. M. Borodin.
Sun Yat-sen urged members of the Kuomintang to "follow the great ideas of the party, and not use their party affiliation to achieve personal goals." "The party must not lose its revolutionary character," said the leader of the Kuomintang. He explained in detail the "three people's principles", the basis of the Kuomintang program, recalled the exploits of the fallen revolutionaries who showed the way to the liberation of the country.
The speech of Sun Yat-sen, who had not spoken at public rallies for a long time, made a great impression on those present.
Then M. M. Borodin spoke with an appeal to rally around the Kuomintang. He said, in particular: "The Kuomintang has a national leader, Dr. Sun Yat—sen, who can unite China and, with the support of the people, free the country from enslavement by foreign imperialists and Chinese militarists."
M. M. Borodin's speech aroused great enthusiasm. We were told that she made a vivid impression on Chinese workers who saw a representative of Soviet Russia for the first time.
Having carefully read the opinion of the Kuomintang leadership on the issue of party reorganization, M. M. Borodin presented his specific proposals, which were mainly reduced to five points:
1. Before the reorganization of the Kuomintang, to revise its program and widely disseminate it among the masses, to ensure that there is a unanimous opinion on the need to reorganize the party in accordance with the program.
2. To work out the Kuomintang charter.
3. Organize a strong cohesive core of the party in Guangzhou and a second center in Shanghai, and only then create local Kuomintang organizations throughout the country.
4. To convene a congress of the party as soon as possible, at least with the participation of representatives of the four southern provinces, to discuss and approve the program and charter of the party and to select a new Executive Committee.
To work on the reorganization of the party in Guangzhou, select the best, most active members of the Kuomintang, who should create party branches in all districts.
5. When the congress meets, ensure that each delegate understands what he has to do next and how to build grassroots organizations in a new way.
Borodin's advice was accepted. Sun Yat-sen published a manifesto on the reorganization of the Kuomintang.
The initiative group led by Sun Yat-sen conducted preliminary work to prepare a general party decision. On October 25, about 50 prominent members of the Kuomintang gathered to discuss the following issues:
1. Reorganization of the Kuomintang.
2. Plan and scheme of reorganization.
3. The program and charter of the Kuomintang.
4. Convocation of the Congress of the Kuomintang with the participation of delegates from four or five provinces.
5. Election of the Reorganization Committee.
The meeting was opened by Guangzhou Governor Liao Zhong-kai. M. M. Borodin reported on the first issue, as well as on the draft charter. The main theme of his speech was the struggle that is going on all over the world between two groups of countries: the oppressors and the oppressed. He stressed that the unification of forces becomes a matter of life or death. The oppressed countries must unite to fight the oppressors.
In Russia, the Bolshevik Party united the masses for a decisive struggle. In order to accomplish a similar task in China, the Kuomintang must reorganize, adopt a revolutionary program that is understandable to the people, and familiarize the broad masses with this program by all available means. Only a strong, well-organized party can achieve this.
After M. M. Borodin, Sun Yat-sen spoke, and then the debate began. No serious objections were raised. Liao Zhong-kai and others advocated the reorganization of the Kuomintang according to the plan of Sun Yat-sen. Representatives of the opposition did not oppose the principles of reorganization, but mainly against individuals who were members of the committee, and even then most likely because they themselves were not included in its composition.
Preparations for the Congress of the Kuomintang were conducted for two and a half months. On October 28, Sun Yat-sen convened a conference at which the Provisional CEC was formed to prepare for the First National Congress of the Kuomintang. A representative of the Communist Party was included in this committee.
The Provisional CEC has started registering members of the Kuomintang and organizing grassroots party organizations with the help of the CPC, which did not exist before. Bureaus of the Kuomintang Central Executive Committee were established in Shanghai and other major cities.