RN

by Richard Nixon

  We were escorted into a room that was not elaborate, filled with books and papers. Several of the books were open to various pages on the coffee table next to where he was sitting. His girl secretary helped him to his feet. When I shook his hand, he said, “I can’t talk very well.” Chou later told me that he had been sick for about a month with what was described as bronchitis. This, however, was not known to the Chinese public.

  Everybody, including Chou, showed him the deference that was due him. Two or three of the military and the civilian people were standing in the room, and about ten minutes through the conversation Chou waved them out. I noted, however, that they remained standing in the hall watching.

  The transcript of the conversation may not have caught probably the most moving moment, when he reached out his hand, and I reached out mine, and he held it for about a minute.

  It is obvious that he has a remarkable sense of humor. He kept bringing Henry into the conversation, and while it was supposed to be ten or fifteen minutes it extended to almost an hour. I saw Chou look at his watch two or three times and realized that I probably should break it up in order not to tax him too much.

  It was interesting to note that later at the plenary session, Chou constantly referred back to the meeting with Mao and what Mao had said.

  Several Chinese photographers had rushed in ahead of us in order to record our first meeting. We all sat in overstuffed armchairs set in a semicircle at the end of the long room. While the photographers continued to bustle around, we exchanged bantering small talk. Kissinger remarked that he had assigned Mao’s writings to his classes at Harvard. Indulging in characteristic self-deprecation, Mao said, “These writings of mine aren’t anything. There is nothing instructive in what I wrote.” I said, “The Chairman’s writings moved a nation and have changed the world.” Mao, however, replied, “I haven’t been able to change it. I’ve only been able to change a few places in the vicinity of Peking.”

  Although Mao spoke with some difficulty, it was clear that his mind was moving like lightning. “Our common old friend Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek doesn’t approve of this,” he said, with a sweeping gesture that might have meant our meeting or that might have taken in all China. “He calls us Communist bandits. He recently made a speech. Have you seen it?”

  “Chiang Kai-shek calls the Chairman a bandit,” I replied. “What does the Chairman call Chiang Kai-shek?”

  Mao chuckled when my question was translated, but it was Chou who answered. “Generally speaking, we call them ‘Chiang Kai-shek’s clique,’ ” he said. “In the newspapers sometimes we call him a bandit; he calls us bandits in turn. Anyway, we abuse each other.”

  “Actually,” Mao said, “the history of our friendship with him is much longer than the history of your friendship with him.”

  Mao remarked on Kissinger’s cleverness in keeping his first trip to Peking secret. “He doesn’t look like a secret agent,” I said. “He is the only man in captivity who could go to Paris twelve times and Peking once, and no one knew it—except possibly a couple of pretty girls.”

  “They didn’t know it,” Kissinger interjected, “I used it as a cover.”

  “In Paris?” Mao asked with mock disbelief.

  “Anyone who uses pretty girls as a cover must be the greatest diplomat of all time,” I said.

  “So you often make use of your girls?” Mao asked.

  “His girls, not mine,” I replied. “It would get me into great trouble if I used girls as a cover.”

  “Especially during an election,” Chou remarked as Mao joined in the laughter.

  Referring to our presidential election, Mao said that in honesty he had to tell me that if the Democrats won the Chinese would deal with them.

  “We understand,” I said. “We will hope that we don’t give you that problem.”

  “I voted for you during your last election,” Mao said with a broad smile.

  “When the Chairman says he voted for me,” I replied, “he voted for the lesser of two evils.”

  “I like rightists,” Mao responded, obviously enjoying himself. “People say that you are rightists—that the Republican Party is on the right—that Prime Minister Heath is also to the right.”

  “And General de Gaulle,” I added.

  Without dropping a beat, Mao said, “De Gaulle is a different question.” Then he continued, “They also say the Christian Democratic Party of West Germany is to the right. I am comparatively happy when these people on the right come into power.”

  “I think the most important thing to note is that in America, at least at this time, those on the right can do what those on the left can only talk about,” I said.

  When the conversation moved to the history of our meeting, Mao remarked, “The former President of Pakistan introduced President Nixon to us. At that time, our ambassador in Pakistan refused to agree to our having any contact with you. He said that President Nixon was no better than President Johnson. But President Yahya said, ‘The two men cannot be compared.’ He said that one was like a gangster—he meant President Johnson. I don’t know how he got that impression, although we on our side were not very happy with your former Presidents, beginning with Truman through Johnson. In between there were eight years of a Republican President. During that period probably you hadn’t thought things out either.”

  “Mr. Chairman,” I said, “I am aware of the fact that over a period of years my position with regard to the People’s Republic was one that the Chairman and the Prime Minister totally disagreed with. What brings us together is a recognition of a new situation in the world and a recognition on our part that what is important is not a nation’s internal political philosophy. What is important is its policy toward the rest of the world and toward us.”

  Although the meeting with Mao dealt mainly with what he called the “philosophy” of our new and potential relationship, I raised in general terms the major substantive questions we would be discussing. I said that we should examine our policies and determine how they should develop in order to deal with the entire world as well as the immediate problems of Korea, Vietnam, and Taiwan.

  I went on, “We, for example, must ask ourselves—again in the confines of this room—why the Soviets have more forces on the border facing you than they do on the border facing Western Europe? We must ask ourselves, What is the future of Japan? Is it better—and here I know we have disagreements—from China’s standpoint for Japan to be neutral and totally defenseless, or is it better for Japan to have some mutual defense relations with the United States? One thing is sure—we can leave no vacuums, because they can be filled. The Prime Minister, for example, has pointed out that the United States ‘reaches out its hands’ and that the Soviet Union ‘reaches out its hands.’ The question is, which danger does the People’s Republic of China face? Is it the danger of American aggression—or of Soviet aggression? These are hard questions, but we have to discuss them.”

  Mao was animated and following every nuance of the conversation, but I could see that he was also becoming very tired. Chou had been discreetly glancing at his watch with increasing frequency, so I decided that I should try to bring the session to a close.

  “I would like to say, as we finish, Mr. Chairman, that we know you and the Prime Minister have taken great risks in inviting us here. For us also it was a difficult decision. But having read some of your statements, I know that you are one who sees when an opportunity comes, and then knows that you must seize the hour and seize the day.”

  Mao’s face beamed when the translator came to these words from his own poem.

  I continued, “I would also like to say in a personal sense—and I also say this to you, Mr. Prime Minister—you do not know me. Since you do not know me, you shouldn’t trust me. You will find I never say something I cannot do. And I always will do more than I can say. On this basis, I want to have frank talks with the Chairman and, of course, with the Prime Minister.”

  Mao pointed toward Kissinger and said
, “ ‘Seize the hour and seize the day.’ I think that, generally speaking, people like me sound like a lot of big cannons!” Chou laughed, and it was clear that we were in for another bit of self-deprecation. “For example, things like, ‘The whole world should unite and defeat imperialism, revisionism, and all reactionaries, and establish socialism.’ ”

  “Like me,” I said. “And bandits.”

  Mao leaned forward and smiled. “But perhaps you as an individual may not be among those to be overthrown,” he said. Motioning toward Kissinger, he continued, “They say that he is also among those not to be overthrown personally. If all of you are overthrown, we wouldn’t have any more friends left.”

  “Mr. Chairman,” I said, “your life is well known to all of us. You came from a very poor family to the top of the most populous nation in the world, a great nation.

  “My background is not so well known. I also came from a very poor family, and to the top of a very great nation. History has brought us together. The question is whether we, with different philosophies, but both with feet on the ground, and having come from the people, can make a breakthrough that will serve not just China and America, but the whole world in the years ahead. And that is why we are here.”

  As we were leaving, Mao said, “Your book, Six Crises, is not a bad book.”

  Looking at Chou, I smiled and shook my head and said, “He reads too much.”

  Mao walked us to the door. His walk was a slow shuffle, and he said that he had not been feeling well.

  “But you look very good,” I replied.

  “Appearances are deceiving,” he said with a slight shrug.

  The first plenary session with Chou at the Great Hall of the People was cut short because of the unscheduled meeting with Mao, and we talked only in general terms about the way our meetings would proceed. Chou preferred a format in which one side presented its views on a subject at one session and the other side responded at the next.

  The most difficult and touchiest part of the trip would be the joint communiqué, and I reaffirmed our pragmatic approach to it. “The conventional way to handle a meeting at the summit like this, while the whole world is watching,” I said, “is to have meetings for several days, which we will have, to have discussions and discover differences, which we will do, and then put out a weasel-worded communiqué covering up the problems.”

  “If we were to act like that we would be not only deceiving the people, but we would be deceiving ourselves,” Chou replied.

  “That is adequate when meetings are between states that do not affect the future of the world,” I said, “but we would not be meeting our responsibility for meetings which the whole world is watching, and which will affect our friends in the Pacific and all over the world for years to come. As we begin these meetings we have no illusions that we will solve everything. But we can set in motion a process which will enable us to solve many of these problems in the future. The men in this room and the women in this room have fought a long hard struggle for a revolution which has succeeded. We know you believe deeply in your principles, and we believe deeply in our principles. We do not ask you to compromise your principles, just as you would not ask us to compromise ours.”

  Perhaps the mention of opposing principles triggered the thought, because Chou remarked, “As you said to Chairman Mao this afternoon, today we shook hands,” he said. “But John Foster Dulles didn’t want to do that.”

  “But you said you didn’t want to shake hands with him,” I countered.

  “Not necessarily,” Chou replied. “I would have.”

  “Well, we will shake hands,” I said, and once again we shook hands across the table.

  Chou seemed to warm to the subject, and he continued. “Dulles’s assistant, Mr. Walter Bedell Smith, wanted to do differently, but he did not break the discipline of John Foster Dulles, so he had to hold a cup of coffee in his right hand. Since one doesn’t shake hands with the left hand, he used it to shake my arm.” Everyone laughed, including Chou. “But at that time, we couldn’t blame you,” he said, “because the international viewpoint was that the socialist countries were a monolithic bloc, and the Western countries were also a monolithic bloc. Now we understand that that is not the case.”

  “We have broken out of the old pattern,” I agreed. “We look at each country in terms of its own conduct rather than lumping them all together and saying that because they have this kind of philosophy they are all in utter darkness. I would say in honesty to the Prime Minister that my views, because I was in the Eisenhower administration, were similar to those of Mr. Dulles at that time. But the world has changed since then, and the relationship between the People’s Republic and the United States must change too. As the Prime Minister has said in a meeting with Dr. Kissinger, the helmsman must ride with the waves or he will be submerged with the tide.”

  By the time we met for the banquet at the Great Hall of the People an hour later, the Chinese group seemed to be much more at ease. Perhaps it was because Mao had now given his official blessing to the visit—or perhaps it was simply that we had already begun to get along well with each other.

  In my toast I tried to give idealistic expression to the pragmatic underpinnings of the China initiative:

  We have at times in the past been enemies. We have great differences today. What brings us together is that we have common interests which transcend those differences. As we discuss our differences, neither of us will compromise our principles. But while we cannot close the gulf between us, we can try to bridge it so that we may be able to talk across it.

  So, let us, in these next five days, start a long march together, not in lock-step, but on different roads leading to the same goal, the goal of building a world structure of peace and justice. . . . The world watches. The world listens. The world waits to see what we will do. . . .

  There is no reason for us to be enemies. Neither of us seeks the territory of the other; neither of us seeks domination over the other; neither of us seeks to stretch out our hands and rule the world.

  Chairman Mao has written, ‘So many deeds cry out to be done, and always urgently. The world rolls on. Time passes. Ten thousand years are too long. Seize the day, seize the hour.’

  This is the hour, this is the day for our two peoples to rise to the heights of greatness which can build a new and a better world.

  After the toasts, the orchestra played “America the Beautiful,” and I remarked that this was one of the songs I had chosen for my inauguration in 1969. Chou raised his glass and said, “Here’s to your next inauguration!”

  When we met at the Great Hall of the People the next afternoon I reminded Chou that despite what he might be reading in some American press reports of the trip, I had no sentimental illusions about what was going on: “Now we say, and most of our rather naïve American press buys this line, that the new relationship between China and America is due to the fact we have a basic friendship between our peoples. But the Prime Minister knows and I know that friendship—which I feel we do have on a personal basis—cannot be the basis on which an established relationship must rest; not friendship alone. I recall that a professor of law when I was a first-year student said that a contract was only as good as the will of the parties concerned to keep it.”

  Chou sat motionless, his face intent but impassive.

  “I believe the interests of China as well as the interests of the United States urgently require that we maintain our military establishment at approximately its present levels,” I said. “And, with certain exceptions which we can discuss later, I believe that we should maintain a military presence in Europe, in Japan, and also maintain our naval forces in the Pacific. I believe that the interests of China are just as great as those of the United States on that point.”

  As I had intended, this statement created a slight stir on the Chinese side of the table.

  “Let me now make what I trust will not be taken as an invidious comparison,” I continued. “By religion I am a Quaker,
although not a very good one, and I believe in peace. All of my instincts are against a big military establishment and also against military adventures. As I indicated a moment ago, the Prime Minister is one of the world’s leading spokesmen for his philosophy, and so he has to be opposed to powers such as the United States maintaining huge military establishments. But each of us has to put the survival of his nation first, and if the United States were to reduce its military strength, and if we were to withdraw from the areas of the world which I have mentioned, the dangers to the United States would be great—and the dangers to China would be even greater.

  “I do not impute any motives to the present leaders of the Soviet Union,” I said. “I have to respect what they say. But I must make policy on the basis of what they do. And in terms of the nuclear power balance, the Soviet Union has been moving ahead at a very alarming rate over the past four years. I have determined that the United States must not fall behind. If we did, our shield of protection for Europe, and for the nations of the Pacific with which we have treaties, would be worthless.”

  Applying this approach to the question of America’s relationship with Japan, I said that the Chinese had framed their position on the subject in terms of their ideology and philosophy: they called for the withdrawal of American troops from Japan and the abrogation of our treaty of mutual defense, thus leaving Japan neutral and unarmed.

  “I think that the Prime Minister, in terms of his philosophy, has taken exactly the correct position with respect to Japan,” I said, “and I think that he has to continue to take it. But I want him to understand why I think strongly that our policy with respect to Japan is in the security interests of his country even though it is opposed to the philosophic doctrine which he espouses.

  “The United States can get out of Japanese waters, but others will still fish there. If we were to leave Japan naked and defenseless, they would have to turn to others for help or build the capability to defend themselves. If we had no defense arrangement with Japan, we would have no influence where they were concerned.