All the Best, George Bush: My Life in Letters and Other Writings

by George H. W. Bush

  . . . Dying to hear how all goes with all of you. I may be homesick for all of you, but really we are very close as I know you know. You will all five enjoy this experience seeing and wondering at different things. The sights to see are fabulous, the dining out a new experience with each place. The difference between our countries immense—and yet a feeling that the people would like to be friends. I just wish we could do more in this regard. I better run now—just wanted you to know that your folks are doing O.K. That we think of you all the time—that we talk about each of you a lot. That we miss you and that we love you very much—our pride in all five of you is even greater here—never thought it would be possible.

  Devotedly

  Dad

  As part of my plan to socialize with the Chinese as much as possible, I decided to reverse my predecessor’s policy of not attending various embassies’ National Day receptions (similar to our Fourth of July celebrations.) I decided I better let Washington know via a State Department telegram, our best way of communicating.

  TELEGRAM

  SUBJECT:

  NATIONAL DAY RECEPTIONS

  ACTION:

  SECSTATE WASHDC

  October 31, 1974

  1. We plan to slide into attendance at National Day Receptions unobtrusively. Holdridge10 and I will attend Algerian affair November 1, which happens to be the first one to which we have been invited. The Soviets on November 6 are next in line.

  2. We will not seek press attention, but all at USLO will simply state if queried that Mr. Bush and others at USLO feel this is a way to widen our contacts in Peking. If pressed, we will tell journalists not to read anything into this shift—just something new USLO Chief wanted to do in effort to expand his contacts and contacts of others at USLO.

  Bush

  November 1, 1974

  We went to our first National Day reception. It happened to be the Algerian. The Holdridges and ourselves walked in together and the Algerian ambassador looked like he was going to fall over in a dead faint when he saw us arrive. The affair was very formal. After the guests had come in, the Chinese guests and the Algerian host took overstuffed chairs at one end of the room. The ambassadorial corps kind of formed in the room, milling around eating lavish hors d’oeuvres. At the other end of the room were table after table at which the Chinese guests gathered around and ate and ate and ate. The only people that visit with the Chinese officials are the foreign minister and other Algerians. And this was interrupted only by long interpreted speeches that went on too long and bored the hell out of everybody. There was a great deal of comment by other ambassadors about our being there. I met many ambassadors there including the Soviet, Polish, Rumanian, several Africans. The Europeans all sought me out and told me they thought the change in policy was a very good one.

  I then came home, we formed in a big group and about 14 strong from the US Mission went off to one of the guest houses where Chiao Kuan Hua11 gave us a beautiful banquet. We sat in overstuffed chairs in the reception room to start with where we had a chance to discuss some things with substance. He raised the question of oil and we discussed that. He thinks I am a bigger oil expert than I am. We also discussed Kissinger’s trip. . . . The atmospherics were great. He opened his tunic at the end of the meal and leaned back. Instead of giving a standing toast, he made the point of giving a sitting toast and I made the point of trying to leave fairly early to try to keep the atmosphere informal. I had the distinct feeling that Huang Chen12 might have told him about the way we threw the oysters [shells] in the middle of the table in Washington because they had a lovely mixing pot of all kinds of Chinese delicacy and flavors where people get up and hold their meat or fish or chicken in this common kettle of water cooking all the ingredients and turning in the end into a wonderful soup. The dish had a way of relaxing people and getting them together in an informal way. There was plenty of wine, plenty of Mao Tai, and plenty of frank conversation. I made the point for example that we got attacked an awful lot at these international conferences when we really went there to help. I liked the tone of the meeting. Chiao’s wife was charming. She told Bar she had been to the States five times—U.N. She had almost a western style hairdo and was very very pretty. Chiao kidded Bar, telling her not to laugh at me during my Chinese lessons. And once he referred to her as Barbara during his toast. I thanked him as effusively as I could at the end of the meeting and he told me “we would want to have a nice banquet for you anyway, but I wanted to especially repay you for your hospitality to me at your mother’s home,” referring to the time when he and Huang Hua came out to mother’s in Greenwich that informal Sunday.13 It is wonderful how he remembers. The entrance to the guest house when we drove in was a real contrast to some of the rest of Peking. Beautiful, well kept, plenty of greenery. It was apparently the old Austria-Hungary legation where we had the dinner.

  The next day Holdridge, Anderson, Brunson and I went to call on Teng Hsiao-Ping.14 He was a very short man. We went to the Great Hall of the People and met in a room where [Premier] Chou En Lai apparently meets a lot of the people. As we walked in we were ushered over in the middle of the room for a picture. Holdridge and I were flanking the very short Teng. We then moved on into the reception room where we had a long good discussion with the Vice Premier. It lasted about an hour and a half. He gave us a lot of interesting agricultural statistics. We talked about world politics and a need for continued relationship. I gave him my thesis that there must be visible manifestations of progress for our China policy so it will avoid some of the hyper-microscopic analyses that we are getting on other policies in the States. He touched briefly on Taiwan . . . Teng seemed very much in control, clicking off minute agricultural population statistics, concerned about India, thought we hadn’t done enough at the time of the India-Pakistan war.15 I was too polite to ask them what they had done. Nancy Tang did the interpreting. Chiao Kuan Hua sitting to the left of Teng and Wang Hai Jung16 down from there. She is a very quiet little girl and it is believed she is put into this high position so she can be around all functions [for] Chairman Mao. She lacks the outgoing appeal of either Nancy Tang or Mrs. Chiao Kuan Hua. As we left, Teng left the door open for future visits though he indicated I would be seeing “others.” . . .

  November 5, 1974

  The Honorable William Steiger

  House of Representatives

  Washington, DC

  Dear Bill:

  Bar has written Jan all the news and if I started in to give you all my reactions to this fabulous assignment, it would take too much of your time. Suffice it to say the Bushes are alive, well, challenged, interested, excited, and, all in all, finding this land of contrasts a magnificent new experience.

  Having said that, I have a favor to ask of you. Would you call a good cross section of our friends in Congress and ask them to put me on the mailing list for their newsletters in Washington. . . . I do find that I am cut off from domestic politics far too much, and though I am an instant diplomat and no longer a consummate politician, I don’t want to be out of touch. . . . Fifteen or so would get the job done. I don’t think there is any problem regarding postage. I’d like a philosophical cross section. . . .

  I hope this isn’t an imposition. Suffice it to say, I miss my godson.17 I miss my own sons; I miss my daughter; I miss my godson’s parents.

  Hastily, but with warmest regards,

  George Bush

  November 17, 1974

  Dear Bake [James Baker],

  We’re here. We have been for almost four fascinating weeks—weeks filled with a variety of emotions. This is a land of contrasts. Great beauty but also a lot of gray dirt and drabness. Clear (almost balmy) skies then fierce penetrating cold, urged on to ferocious heights by a North wind that reminds me of the West Texas winds, carrying a lot of real estate. Enormous beauty of the children with their captivating smiles and robust healthy looks contrasted with a certain dreary sameness as one watches the workers cycling out of Peking to work in the AM and back from work in
the PM. It’s great and we are very happy here, though both Bar and I miss family, friends, news, even politics. It is funny how fast we get cut off. . . . We have great communications with DC, but the wireless file (USIS)18 only comes here in part, the papers and mags are real late, and the Hinshua News put out by the New China News Agency is nice to have but concentrates on international events—usually not the ones I want to read about. I have a great short wave given by the office—a very good one, but it gets a lot of whoofing, blowing wheezing like all short waves. Ask me anything about radio Moscow—those weiners come in like gangbusters, but I don’t want to hear all about the “imperialistic USA exploiting the third world”.

  The food here is out of this world/ Food is more than a passing meal here—it is an art. In our house we have a good Chinese staff and the cook, a Mr. Sung, is an artist. We have had mainly lunches and the dishes are always new and different. The only thing that was tough to get down was the sea slug—a plateful of gravy covered wiggly purple spiny gelatinous spiked looking things. They say sea slugs are aphrodisiacs so I wolfed one down (N.B.19 if that’s what it takes I’m ready for a celibacy course)—Anyway I am eating too darned much at home and in the fantastic restaurants in Peking. The restaurants aren’t that much to look at inside—all kind of old and run down, but the food is exquisite and fairly reasonable as well.

  I have been far busier than I thought I’d be—diplomatic calls, calls on Chinese officials—one trip to Tientsin, 2 hours from Peking.

  We are well received here. Kissinger comes in a week or so, and that is great ‘cause it will set the course for the next year or so. . . .

  Bar comes home very soon—leaving around Dec. 4—maybe leaving with Kissinger. She likes it here but I am glad she’ll be with the weiners20 for Christmas. She comes back out on the 6th of January. I go to Honolulu for a chief of Mission Conference around Dec. 6th for about 9 days—good duty—then I come back here for Christmas—Mother joining. Let me know if you and Susan ever feel like a trip to Peking. I know we can work it out as far as visas go—just tell em you will stay with us. . . .

  Had a haircut, massage—shoulders head, plus shampoo—60 cents US.

  The friendship store sells almost everything we need. Bought my whiskey etc. in Hong Kong. Our house [is] plenty roomy—4 bedrooms up, one down, massive downstairs kitchen—small one up for family. Darned nice. Bought a championship pong table—but the Chinese are so good that I just quietly hit in the dining room with limited hot air. . . .

  We sure miss the Houstonians. I hope Jeb is getting along O. K. I expect they’ve all written but we haven’t heard from him—oh yes Columba21 wrote us a nice letter. All’s well. Your Pekinese buddy misses you. I’m shipping you a few gallons of sea slugs—do with them what you will.

  Happily,

  GB

  Sunday, November 17

  . . . On a beautiful, warm sunny day went to the Great Wall in two trucks. A hazardous ride, unbelievable. Going around blind curves. Honking like mad. Pushing pony carts and various forms of decrepit looking vehicles off to the side. We climbed to the top of the left hand side of the Wall. A real workout, tough on the legs, but exhilarating when one gets through. We had been told that it might be windy and very very viciously cold but it was neither, We must have hit a lucky day. It is hard to describe the spectacle of the Wall. I can just hear a whole bunch of coolies sitting around and the foreman coming in and saying to them, “Men, we got a new project. We are going to build a wall, yep—2,000 miles. OK, let’s hear it for the engineers. Let’s get going on the job.” What a fantastic undertaking. We then drove down and had a picnic near one of the Tombs. All by ourselves in a courtyard. The sun was out. I sat in my shirtsleeves and we ate a delicious picnic. A kind of a sweet and sour fish. Excellent fried chicken. Lots of hard boiled eggs. The inevitable tasty soup. The only thing we forgot was ice so the beer was warm but we had worked hard enough walking up to the top so that we devoured about six bottles of it. It’s a heavy beer and I find it makes me sleepy but it’s awful good. We then went to the Ding Ling tomb and looked around there. Plenty of exercise climbing up and down. When we got home at about 5 o’clock I totally collapsed.

  Secretary of State Henry Kissinger arrived for his much awaited visit in late November. I dictated to my diary:

  November 26, 1974

  I attend, sitting next to the Secretary, meetings in the morning at the Great Hall and in the afternoon at the guest house, meetings with Teng Hsiao Ping. . . . Kissinger is brilliant in these talks. Tremendous sweep of history and a tremendous sweep of the world situation. He is at his best. It is a great contrast to the irritating manner he has of handling people. His staff are scared to death of him. The procession is almost “regal.” People quake, “He’s coming. He’s coming.” And don’t dare tell him when he’s keeping them waiting. In the Wednesday morning meeting, “I want my staff. I want them all in this room. I want them right here now. Where are they?” All kinds of yelling of that nature goes on. I guess it is the way he keeps from getting ulcers at the pace he is working at. I came home and had lunch with Bar . . .

  November 28, 1974

  Kissinger was anxious to know my plans. He asked how long I planned to stay. This is the second reference he made to it. I had in my mind that he was probing to see what my political plans were. I told him I had no political plans, that I thought the ticket for ’76 was locked in with the appointment of Rockefeller, which I do, and that I had no plans at all. Kissinger made some reference to my running for President in 1980. I told him I couldn’t see that far ahead but I was very much interested in doing a good job here—learning the substance of our foreign policy and getting an overall view of it. He pointed out that this was a good place to do it because of the kinds of reviews the Chinese get from him and also because from time to time there are substantive items here. I made clear to him that I was not expecting high profile, I knew the limitations of this post and that it didn’t bother me. I really think he is still curious as to why I am here, when, as he knows, I could have gone to Paris or London. . . .

  December 4, 1974

  Enroute Peking to Tokyo

  Dear Gerry [Bemiss],

  . . . This won’t sound like much, Bemiss, but I wish you could attend the Christian Church service with us (you will I hope). It is in downtown Peking in the old Bible Society Building. There are 5 Chinese who attend. They alternate preaching. The service is in Chinese totally, no sermon, lots of hymns, communion every Sunday.

  It is strange and yet very moving. Here we are in a totally controlled atheistic tough society. They permit tokenism. It means a lot of hymns, all the beautiful well known ones, boom out with the strong handful of Chinese voices—it’s almost too much. It makes me count my many blessings right there.

  Not the least of which is the feeling of love and affection we, Bar & me, have for you two.

  I have time to think over here—even read (I know you don’t believe it); But here one sorts out his values—freedoms we take for granted come to the fore here as treasures but for us it’s family and close friends—ever thus in our lives, but here it’s vivid and in perspective.

  Come see us—when you are ready—tell me. We can get the visas.

  Love to Margaret to the kids.

  Just know that your friend in Peking is doing O. K.

  Best

  GB

  December 4, 1974

  . . . Great talks with Bar on the phone. The kids all doing fine. It is as if each one of these five kids, recognizing that the family was undergoing a different experience, are pulling together much more. There are no longer those juvenile battles and each one comes through strong, vibrant, full of humor and different, full of life and we are awfully lucky. It is right that Bar be there but boy do I miss her. . . .