By He Weifang (賀衛方)
【Editor’s Note: Chien Tuan-sheng (钱端升), a prominent Chinese political scientist and legal scholar, profoundly influenced modern Chinese academia. Educated in the U.S., earning a Harvard Ph.D. at 24, he returned to teach at prestigious institutions like Peking University and Tsinghua University, producing significant works on constitutional law. After 1949, he served as dean of Peking University's Law School and the first president of Beijing College of Political Science and Law, yet faced marginalization as ideological control over academia tightened.
In 1957, during the Anti-Rightist Movement, Chien’s candid critique of Communist policies and the Party’s role in higher education led to his persecution. Labeled a leading Rightist in legal academia, he was stripped of his positions, faced relentless criticism, and endured decades of suppression. His earlier advocacy of authoritarian governance paradoxically clashed with his later victimization under such a system.
Despite his posthumous rehabilitation and honors, including a memorial at China University of Political Science and Law, Chien’s career illustrates the tension between intellectual independence and political conformity. His story remains a cautionary tale of the sacrifices demanded of scholars under authoritarian regimes and the fragility of academic freedom amidst political upheaval. 】
In modern Chinese political science and legal academia, Chien Tuan-sheng (钱端升) holds a significant position and has wielded considerable influence. Born in Shanghai in 1900, he entered Tsinghua School at seventeen. Later, he studied in the United States and, at just twenty-four, earned a Ph.D. in political science from Harvard University—a youthful prodigy with a brilliant future ahead. Upon returning to China, he taught successively at his alma mater, Tsinghua School (University), Central University, Peking University, and Southwest Associated University, publishing several works on political science and constitutional law. During this period, he also engaged with the media or founded journals to publish extensive political commentary. His academic achievements led to his election as a founding member of the Academia Sinica in 1948, placing him among the top echelon of scholars. After May 1949, he served as the dean of the Law School at Peking University (the old law school included departments of law, economics, and politics). In 1952, the government implemented the “Adjustment of Colleges and Departments,” consolidating the faculties and students of law, political science, sociology, and related disciplines from Peking, Tsinghua, Yenching, and Fu Jen Universities into the newly formed Beijing College of Political Science and Law, with Chien Tuan-sheng as its first president. In 1954, as a legal advisor, he contributed to drafting the new regime’s first constitution. However, during the Anti-Rightist Campaign of 1957, he did not escape disaster, becoming the foremost “rightist” in China’s legal academia. From then on, he suffered various suppressions and was unable to teach or conduct research. It was not until after the Cultural Revolution that he was rehabilitated, but by then, advanced in years, he could achieve little. He passed away in Beijing in 1990.
In 1982, I was admitted to Beijing College of Political Science and Law (renamed China University of Political Science and Law the following year) to pursue a master’s degree in Western legal history. Three years later, I graduated and taught there for ten years. From personal observation, during the first decade after Beijing College of Political Science and Law was re-opened in 1979, the great name of its founding president, Chien Tuan-sheng, was occasionally mentioned among faculty and students, but his presence on campus was rare. For him, that campus had become a place of painful memories, not to mention how he would face certain individuals who had denounced and criticized him in the past if he encountered them there. However, after his passing, a statue of him was erected on campus, and a teaching building was named “Tuan-sheng Hall.” A “Chien Tuan-sheng Memorial Hall” was also established at the College Road campus, and there is the commemorative “Chien Tuan-sheng Legal Research Achievement Award.” Over the past thirty years, his works—such as his Selected Works, Comparative Constitutional Law co-authored with Wang Shi-chie, and his translation of History of England—have been repeatedly reprinted. The Chronicle edited by Dr. Chen Xiahong has been immensely helpful in understanding his life. The China University of Political Science and Law Press has published the Complete Works of Chien Tuan-sheng [1], which includes his diaries from 1937 to 1956. Due to my strong interest in the history of education since modern times, especially the history of legal education, and my recent focus on people and events around Hu Shih (胡適) [2] (there was considerable interaction between Chien and Hu), I was pleasantly surprised to receive the main edited volumes as a gift and promptly read through these two volumes of diaries.
From left to right: Chang Chong-fu, Hu Shih, and Chien Duan-sheng.
Some Errors in the Editing of the Diaries
One gratifying detail is that the editors of the complete works restored the author’s foreign name using the Wade-Giles romanization, rendering it as Chien Tuansheng rather than the prevalent Hanyu Pinyin spelling as Qian Duan-sheng, reflecting respect for history—a commendable approach. [3] To aid readers, the editors of the diary expended significant effort, adding Chinese translations in parentheses for foreign terms in the original text and annotating some individuals, institutions, events, etc. This work is by no means easy, especially for someone like Mr. Chien, who had extensive contacts both domestically and internationally, making it particularly challenging and inevitably leading to some errors.
For example, when noting Chien’s return to Harvard and gatherings with scholars from his alma mater, two locations are mentioned: Kirkland House and Lowell House, translated as “柯克兰家” and “洛厄尔家,” which could easily mislead readers. It must be understood that these places named “House” are not private residences but undergraduate dormitories and comprehensive living halls at Harvard named after former presidents (Harvard has twelve such undergraduate houses). Translating “House” as “堂” or “斋” would be more appropriate.
Another example: Ambassador Wang Cheng-ting(王正廷) hosted a banquet at a restaurant called Port Arthur, which the editors translated as “亚瑟港酒店,” potentially confusing readers. Upon investigation, this was one of the earliest Chinese restaurants in Washington, D.C., known in Chinese as “旅顺楼.” This name originated because Westerners referred to Lushun Port as Port Arthur during the late Qing Dynasty, and the restaurant derived its name from this. [4]
A third example: In London, Ambassador Kuo Tai-chi hosted a farewell banquet for individuals about to visit China. Among the guests was a lady named Betty Sze, translated as “贝蒂·斯兹.” Seeing the surname Sze, I thought this person might be related to the early Republican diplomat Sze Sao-ke(施肇基). Sze’s English name is quite unique: Alfred Sao-ke Sze. In the late Qing period, there was no standardized system for Romanizing Chinese names, and many people did as they pleased. According to the Wade-Giles system, Sze Sao-ke should be Shih Chao-chi. Checking relevant materials, Sze Sao-ke indeed had a daughter named Sze Yuen-tsung (施蕴珍), who later became a well-known American painter under the name Mai-mai Sze (1909–1992). Perhaps for ease of interaction, she took the English name Betty.
Another error is in the general preface by Professor Huang Jin, one of the chief editors of the complete works. He reversed the surname and given names of George Macaulay Trevelyan, the author of History of England translated by Chien Tuan-sheng, rendering it as “屈勒味林·乔治·马可雷.” [5]
Additionally, there are questionable translations of institutions and terms. For example, after arriving in the United States, Chien and his party visited some important media outlets, including a publication called Asia. The editors explain in parentheses that this is an abbreviation of Amerasia, but at that time, there was indeed a monthly publication in the United States called Asia, and it was an older publication founded in the late 19th century. In 1934, the famous publisher Richard Walsh became the editor-in-chief, giving it more academic and cultural research characteristics. His newlywed wife, the renowned writer Pearl S. Buck, also participated in the editing work. [7] The publication called Amerasia was newly founded in 1937, known for its strong communist leanings, enthusiastic support for the Chinese Communist Party, and involvement in the illegal acquisition of confidential documents during the McCarthy era, attracting widespread attention. [8] Hu Shih had articles published in both publications. I surmise that the one Chien and his party visited was the Asia monthly. If it were Amerasia, such a forced abbreviation would be unreasonable.
Regarding terminology, they met with U.S. Senator Key Pittman, who explained that the U.S. Supreme Court, in a certain case, stated that the President has full diplomatic powers, but that was in the dictum and still required congressional authorization. The editors annotated “dictum” as “authoritative opinion.” [9] In fact, in Anglo-American judicial decisions, the binding part established by judges that hold in subsequent similar cases is called ratio decidendi, while the non-binding opinions expressed by judges beyond the ratio decidendi are called obiter dictum. These two Latin terms are usually translated as “reason for the decision” and “incidental remark,” respectively. [10] There are quite a few such errors in the book; I have cited a few examples and will not list them all.
Chien's Persuasion of Hu Shih to Lead Tsinghua
The published diaries of Chien Tuan-sheng began in 1937. Whether there are diaries before this or whether they have survived is unknown. The connections between Hu Shih and Chien Tuan-sheng date back more than a decade earlier. So, allow me to start with a letter and a debate between the two from earlier times because they were both American-educated Ph.D.s, Chien had some interactions with Hu Shih during his tenure as a professor at Tsinghua University. In the Selected Correspondence of Hu Shih, the earliest letter from Chien is dated November 4, 1926. At that time, Hu Shih was attending the Sino-British Boxer Indemnity Committee meeting in the UK. In the letter, he mentioned that Hu Shih, during his trip abroad, passed through the Soviet Union for investigation and had sent back reports published domestically, in which he gave many commendatory evaluations of the situation in the Soviet Union. [11] Chien wrote:
“Some people say you are expressing great sympathy for communism; this really makes us, who cannot travel, look up in admiration. At the same time, I hope no one publishes this matter; otherwise, it will provoke old Yan’s nonsensical writing enthusiasm again.”
However, the main purpose of Chien’s letter was to encourage Hu Shih to come to Tsinghua to serve as its president. At that time, Tsinghua was in the midst of a transition between old and new presidents. Tsao Yun-hsiang was under pressure from young faculty members on campus—including the 26-year-old Chien Tuan-sheng —and intended to resign. The candidate he recommended was also resisted. In the letter, Chien mentioned that he had inquired last year whether Hu Shih was willing to become the president of Tsinghua and said that from all angles, Hu Shih was the best choice. Moreover, compared with Peking University, Tsinghua had no financial worries and would certainly become the highest-level university in the north in the future; the presidency was worth a try.
“Just say you are willing to consider my suggestion, and I will find ways to promote it; this promotional work, of course, won’t be very laborious because the majority of people are very hopeful that you will come.”
“Finally, please make it clear that if you can come, can I consider publishing your reply? Of course, I will handle this matter cautiously; please rest assured.”
“I hope to receive a satisfactory reply from you soon.”
Hu Shih's reply letter is no longer traceable, but he wrote a few words on the received letter, perhaps reflecting his basic attitude in the reply:
“I am willing to consider your proposal, but I very much do not want you to ‘find ways to promote it.’ This is my reply; please understand this intention.”
One can somewhat sense a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone. I surmise that although Hu Shih was not yet thirty-five at that time, he was already well-known—so-called “Hu Shih’s great name spreads across the universe.” It is not an exaggeration to call him a leader in academia and public opinion. Moreover, due to his frequent international exchanges, many of his works have been published in foreign languages, and his global influence was self-evident. If he were willing to become the president of Tsinghua, whether in terms of reputation or his usual working style, why would he need people like Chien to privately campaign on campus?
Of course, Hu Shih was indeed somewhat tempted by Chien’s proposal. On January 16, 1927, his friend Chang Wei-tsi wrote to Hu Shih, perhaps in response to Hu’s inquiry, talking about the situation at Tsinghua:
"I've heard that the matter of Tsinghua (清华) originated from a good offer that Tsao Yun-hsiang (曹云祥) received a few months ago. Some people at the university thought of you as his successor, and they all agreed that you are the most acceptable person. Lately, however, Tsao Yun-hsiang's offer elsewhere seems to have fallen through, so this matter appears to be temporarily on hold. I also think this university has more potential than Peking University (北大); if there are no other issues, it's worth giving it a try." [12]
Moreover, Wei Chu-hsian (卫聚贤), a 1927 graduate of Tsinghua's Institute of Chinese Classics (国学研究院) and later a historian, wrote to Hu Shih on June 4th of that year, providing firsthand information. He informed Hu Shih that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs favored Tsa Liang-chao (査良钊) as the candidate for president. Discussing this matter with Chien Tuan-sheng (钱端升):
"I met with Mr. Chien Tuan-sheng today. He said that no one has been mentioned or discussed yet for the presidency of Tsinghua. However, someone with the surname Kuo (the former president of Southeast University) is willing to take the position, but it hasn't been discussed. I asked where the appointment would come in the future; he said it would be appointed by the Ministry of Education (this matter might cause disputes). I asked him whom he actually advocated to lead Tsinghua; he did not express an opinion. I suggested him; he said he wouldn't do it. I said that you going would also be suitable; he said he's afraid you wouldn't go, but if you did, it would be very appropriate." [13]
By March 1928, the situation became clear. Hu Shih's diary entry on the 27th records a meeting with Tang Er-ho, where he learned that Luo Wen-kan (罗文榦) invited him to serve as president. However, Hu Shih wrote to Tang that very night, explicitly declining the offer, thus missing the opportunity to become president of Tsinghua. [14] Shortly afterward, Luo Chia-lun (罗家伦) succeeded as president of Tsinghua. This was undoubtedly good news for Peking University (北大). Due to the chaotic situation in Peiping and even concerns for personal safety, Hu Shih stayed in Shanghai after returning from his European and American tour. In April 1928, he became president of the private China Public University (私立中国公学校) in Shanghai, and two years later resigned to return to teach at Peking University. Meanwhile, during the same period, Chien Tuan-sheng moved between multiple universities teaching and even served as chief editor of Tianjin's Social Welfare or Yi Shihh Pao (《益世报》), until 1936, when he officially began teaching at Peking University (he had previously concurrently taught courses in political science and constitutional law in the departments of political science and law). Perhaps because their academic fields were somewhat distant, Mr. Chien was not among the closest of Hu Shih's circle of friends, and their interactions were not particularly frequent. However, the "Debate on Democracy and Dictatorship" that occurred in 1934 is worth noting.
Debate on Democracy and Dictatorship
This debate arose against the backdrop of the severe existential crisis China faced after the "September 18th Incident" (九一八事变). Domestic politics remained fragmented, unable to achieve nationwide mobilization and united resistance against the enemy. On the other hand, the rise of national power brought about by the establishment of dictatorial regimes in the Soviet Union, Germany, Italy, and Turkey provided a somewhat tempting model. In January 1934, three articles advocating that China should establish a dictatorial political system were published in succession. One by Chien Tuan-sheng titled "Democracy or Totalitarian State?" (《民主政治乎?极权国家乎?》), another by Tsiang Ting-fu titled "On Autocracy: A Reply to Mr. Hu Shih" (《论专制,答胡适之先生》), and one by Wu Ching-chao titled "Revolution and Nation-Building" (《革命与建国》). [15] All three authors were well-known scholars, and the media outlets they published in were highly influential journals, having an immeasurable impact on the direction of public opinion. It was only natural for Hu Shih to pick up his pen and respond.
Regarding the specifics of this debate, Hu Shih, as a participant, provided a very plain and objective review and summary at the end of that year. [16] This article will not elaborate further. Here, we will just briefly outline the main arguments in the debate between Chien and Hu and make a brief analysis. In the past thirty-odd years, articles commemorating and remembering Chien Tuan-sheng rarely mention this debate. [17] Perhaps because Mr. Chien's arguments advocating for "dictatorial" politics in that era have, in the context of changing times, become something that needs to be "kept under wraps" to "respect the virtuous," people avoid mentioning it. In fact, some key issues involved in that debate—such as the crisis facing democratic systems—are not only related to the circumstances of that time but are also cyclical global challenges that have emerged since. Therefore, revisiting the debate between Chien and Hu is not only helpful in understanding the political philosophies of the two protagonists but also beneficial for reflecting on today's political transformations.
What is worth noting is that Chien, at the very outset, clearly asserted that democratic politics was already facing decline and was a system that "must be abandoned." After World War I, democratic systems had evidently shown difficulties in coping with the challenges posed by nationalist-controlled economies dominating the economic development of modern states. From this trend, replacing democracy with dictatorship became inevitable. Of course, the "dictatorship" that Chien referred to was not what we might imagine today as arbitrary, corrupt, and oppressive. Instead, it was a more effective form of governance compared to democratic politics, which could be termed, using an oxymoron, "benevolent despotism." Chien stated:
"People need not be unreservedly afraid of dictatorship. If we consider the welfare of the vast majority of the people, dictatorship is not necessarily inferior to democratic politics. ... If dictatorship truly can enhance the welfare of the majority (almost the entire people), then why should we insist on maintaining democratic governance that is less capable of promoting welfare, just because a minority's freedom is deprived?"
Such a statement is astonishing. It seems that Chien was advocating the sacrifice of the freedom of the minority for the welfare of the majority. [18] However, at the conclusion of his article, Chien appeared to link democratic politics to a specific era, leaving some possible visions for achieving democracy after dictatorship:
"All systems are, after all, products of their times. Fifty years ago in Britain, democratic politics was still regarded by the ruling class as an unorthodox and dangerous idea, but after 1900, even the Conservative Party saw it as a matter of course. Some of us—I myself am one—have been deeply immersed in democratic politics for a long time and naturally find it very disagreeable to see various anti-democratic systems. But if we want to make China a strong modern nation, we might have to modify our preconceptions."
In response, Hu Shih first expressed courteous appreciation, saying, "Mr. Chien Tuan-sheng 's article is the most systematic and sincerely moving piece on this big issue published this year." But then he candidly and straightforwardly refuted point by point. He stated that he could not agree with the observation that democratic politics was entering a period of decline at that time. On the contrary, from a longer-term perspective, it was the beginning of a great new development in democratic politics under new circumstances. Especially the increase in political power of the proletariat and the trend towards socialization of democratic politics were significant signs of this new type of democracy. As for the view that controlled economies inevitably lead to dictatorial politics, Hu Shih explicitly argued that so-called economic nationalism did not apply to most countries and China could never achieve industrialization under closed conditions. Blindly strengthening government power cannot create the necessary capital, cannot cultivate professional talent, or change a nation like China that prefers laissez-faire governance. In short, abandoning democracy for dictatorship is truly a dead end. Hu Shih also expressed an important viewpoint: the kind of new dictatorship advocated by Chien and others is extremely difficult to achieve, whereas democracy, on the contrary, does not require a highly elite dictator to begin with; democracy is a kind of "kindergarten politics" that can be practiced by the masses in earnest.
As for Hu Shih's criticism, Chien Tuan-sheng did not publish any further rebuttal. [19] This debate on democracy and dictatorship, according to Hu Shih, did not seem to generate much response. [20] The lack of impact may have been due to the mindset of key figures in the Nationalist government. In his article, Hu Shih quoted Chiang Kai-shek's response to a Japanese reporter: "China's national conditions are different from those of Italy, Germany, and Turkey, so there is no need for dictatorship" [21]—using this as evidence that the official or potential dictator refused to establish a dictatorial regime. In fact, despite the nation's peril, whether from the standpoint of being the orthodox inheritor of Sun Yat-sen's Three Principles of the People or from the strategy of not providing internal adversaries and separatist forces with an excuse, Chiang Kai-shek could not openly endorse the advocacy of dictatorial politics; "pseudo-democracy, real dictatorship" was a more attractive option—which, needless to say, became the political reality of both the Nationalist and Communist parties later on.
What is worth mentioning is that among the scholars who advocated dictatorship at that time, Tsiang Ting-fu specialized in diplomatic studies, Ting Wen-chiang's profession was geology, Wu Ching-chao was a historian, but Chien Tuan-sheng was an authentic scholar of political science and constitutional law. His doctoral dissertation at Harvard was a study of the heart of democratic politics—the parliamentary system. For such a scholar to reject the democratic option and advocate dictatorial politics is, in any case, a phenomenon with a touch of paradox. In fact, in terms of thought, scholarship, and behavior, before the mid-1940s, compared to Hu Shih, Chien Tuan-sheng had a closer relationship with the Nationalist Party. Hu Shih never joined any political party in his life, while Mr. Chien was a long-standing member of the Nationalist Party. [22] In October 1939, to strengthen its influence over universities, the Nationalist Party decided to establish a party branch at Southwest Associated University (西南联大). Chien Tuan-sheng, along with Chou Ping-lin and Tsa Liang-chao, were appointed as preparatory members of the university's party committee. After preparation, on July 23, 1941, a general meeting of all party members was held, and Chien Tuan-sheng, Chou Ping-lin, Yao Tsong-wu, Tian Pei-lin, Feng Yu-lan, Tsa Liang-chao, and Wang Hsin-tsong were elected as the first executive committee members. Three years later, during the party committee's reelection, Chien Tuan-sheng was again elected as a new executive committee member. [23] In 1944, left-leaning scholars like Li Kung-pu and Wen Yi-tuo established the "Constitutional Issues Research Society" (宪政问题研究会), "under the guise of studying constitutionalism, with the main purpose of criticizing the government and realizing their private ambitions." The Nationalist Party's university party committee, "to preempt them, decided that Comrades Chien Tuan-sheng and Chou Ping-lin would use the name of the university's law school's Constitutional Lecture Series to organize ten lectures on constitutional issues" to guide and counteract the efforts of pro-Communist scholars. It is said that Chien and Chou also criticized the Nationalist Party. [24] Overall, Chien Tuan-sheng could be considered an "establishment" critic. His political philosophy differed from Hu Shih's but generally belonged to a constructive stance, and he himself was also committed to academia as a vocation. This set him apart from those leftist scholars who were nicknamed or slandered as "Wen Yitov" and "Luo Longski" [25], or even those like Wu Han who were underground members of the Communist Party. [26]
Scholars Embarking Together on Diplomatic Missions
By a twist of fate, following the Marco Polo Bridge Incident ("七七事变") and Japan's large-scale invasion of China, two scholars who had crossed pens three years earlier found themselves in a rather close association. In September 1937, commissioned by the government, Hu Shih (胡适), Chien Tuan-sheng (钱端升), and Chang Chong-fu (张忠绂) set off to the United States and Europe to engage in informal diplomacy and promote the war effort. This small delegation, composed of three renowned scholars—all Ph.D. graduates from American universities and professors at Peking University—was well-balanced. Chang Chong-fu specialized in international law and international politics and was rich in diplomatic experience [27]; Chien Tuan-sheng had deep insights into the governmental systems and operations of major Western countries. Although Hu Shih's primary fields were literature, history, and philosophy, he had also conducted considerable research and published extensively on international relations and diplomatic affairs. Moreover, he had become a representative figure for China in international organizations such as the Institute of Pacific Relations. Therefore, their joint mission to lobby for sympathy and support from both the public and governments abroad for China's resistance could be seen as an ideal partnership that complemented each other's strengths.
However, as articulated through Chao Hsin-mei in Chien Chong-shu's (钱锺书) novel Fortress Besieged (《围城》), a long journey together can reveal the true character and concealed flaws that remain unseen in ordinary interactions; only after prolonged travel without growing to dislike each other can people become friends. On this diplomatic journey, where they were in constant close contact, previously unnoticed gaps and inevitable conflicts between Hu and Chien began to surface. When I previously read Hu Shih's diaries from this period, I noted his occasional criticisms of Chien Tuan-sheng; the most striking was from his entry on January 22, 1938:
"Talked with Chien and Chang; they both wish to return. Chang has been somewhat better lately; he wants to go to Washington to write articles. I'm not very enthusiastic because his writing is too mediocre, and I'm afraid there won't be places to publish them.
"Tuan-sheng always laments having no opportunity to achieve anything, which makes him very distressed. He said that when we first arrived in San Francisco last year, Consul General Huang asked behind his back whether he was my secretary. Upon hearing this, he 'almost burst into tears' and could only pretend not to understand and evade the question.
"He mentioned this today; when I heard it, I truly 'could cry.' We are traveling together and working for the country; if outsiders ask such a question, what's shameful about it? Why do I need to cry?
"I deeply understand that Chinese scholars are unwilling to be subordinate to others, so they are always modest and never dare to assume leadership. But such a mentality is truly one that leads to national ruin."[28]
Five days later, on the 27th, he noted again that both Chang Chong-fu and Chien Tuan-sheng were still mired in anxiety and unable to extricate themselves. Chang was preoccupied with family matters, while Chien felt slighted—"nothing to do, no achievements to make." "Tuan-sheng is overconfident, too self-assured, always feeling unappreciated here, with no place to apply his talents, so he's very disgruntled."[29]
Now that we have access to Chien Tuan-sheng 's diaries, we can see reflections from another perspective—psychological reactions that perhaps were or were not perceived by Hu Shih. From the moment he set foot on the New World, Chien was astonished by the enormous enthusiasm shown toward Hu Shih by the people there, and he was discontented that, as a fellow delegation member, he did not receive such treatment. In San Francisco, he discovered that Mrs. Ma Rurong, a Chinese expatriate, was "one who worships Hu Shih to the extreme."[30] Such veneration of Hu was not limited to Chinese expatriates but extended to American elite figures, and Hu seemed to greatly enjoy this atmosphere. For example, at a gathering organized by The New York Times:
"In the afternoon, accompanied Hu Shih and others to Bronxville to attend a tea hosted by James G. McDonald of The New York Times, with nearly a hundred guests... At such gatherings, Americans treat Hu Shih as an idol, which is rather nauseating; Hu Shih accepts it without hesitation, leaving us no chance to express ourselves, and the Americans (even native-born Chinese) regard us as mere attendants, which is quite distasteful. Moreover, in his interactions with people, Hu Shih's 'exports' (speaking) always exceed his 'imports' (listening), resulting in a trade surplus each time, which is rather disadvantageous. The longer this environment persists, the more painful it becomes." (October 31, 1937)[31]
In his diary, Chien Tuan-sheng (钱端升) frequently expressed dissatisfaction with Hu Shih's (胡适) shortcomings in communicating with outsiders:
"Hu's speeches are quite perfunctory." (November 5)
"In the morning, accompanied Hu to see Colonel E. House. Old and ill, he enjoys talking about his own importance; Hu was unwilling to engage with him, gaining little benefit. Yet, House is quite significant, and missing the opportunity to convey our views is truly regrettable." (November 8)
"In the afternoon, Hu invited several educated Chinese in New York to discuss propaganda matters but failed to grasp the main points." (November 10)
"In the afternoon, there was tea at Hu's place, inviting compatriots for talks, but without key points. In the evening, we invited Buell for dinner. Hu's speech was generally not keen; his observations were often erroneous, and he seldom let others speak, which is truly alarming." (December 22) [32]
By February of the following year, their relationship seemed to be gradually warming, largely because they found common ground regarding Chang Peng-chun (张彭春). However, previous criticisms that Chien had made of Hu in a telegram to Wang Shi-chie (王世杰) caused new friction. Hu's intense reaction led Chien to suspect that he might be narrow-minded:
"Recently, I've had pleasant correspondence with Hu, with Chang Peng-chun as our common goal. But last time, I informed him that I had criticized his views on U.S. affairs in a telegram to Wang Shi-chie. Today, I received a letter from Hu; the tone was quite bad, with many instances of taking things out of context. In my previous letter, I hinted at my willingness to go to Cincinnati and Montreal, but let's set that aside. His vanity is truly incorrigible. I've known Hu for a long time but not intimately; though aware of his vanity, I always believed he had great magnanimity. Observing recent events, I suspect he's extremely petty and even jealous. According to his close friends, he shouldn't be like this, so perhaps my observation is wrong. But for someone who usually understands and still sides with famous acquaintances, is this the case or not? For Hu to be like this is truly disappointing. In my reply, I first clarified that my criticism was that public opinion hadn't improved much, not that the government's stance hadn't improved; I further used Chang Peng-chun to inform him..." (February 22, 1938) [33]
The mention of Cincinnati and Montreal suggests that Chien felt Hu's speeches in those remote places were of little significance. The tone indicates that the situation is deteriorating and becoming irreparable. Fortunately, shortly afterward, Chien received government orders to go to Germany to assist Chu Chia-hua (朱家骅) in communicating with German officials. Before departure, he visited prominent figures in politics, academia, and the media, including attending a discussion on fiscal matters at the renowned think tank, the Brookings Institution, with Hu and others. In his diary, Chien briefly noted: "Hu was too amateurish and not keen, just like at the State Department, failing to grasp the key points." [34] Such criticisms of Hu being amateurish, vain, and lacking acuity appeared frequently in Chien's diary, leaving a strong impression. On April 5, Hu hosted a farewell banquet for Chien in New York. The next day, Chien boarded the RMS Queen Mary for Europe: "Those seeing me off were Hu, Han Sheng (Chen Han-sheng), Pan Hsue-chang, Consulate staff Yu, Lu, Cheng, Wang, and Mr. and Mrs. Ku, along with several students. It was snowing during departure, and parting feelings were intense." [35]
Chien left America for Europe, but Hu remained "a lingering presence." On April 24, Hu wrote in his diary: "Wrote a long letter to Chien, with a tone of admonishment." [36] On May 3, in London, Chien received Hu's letter. His diary recorded his psychological reaction:
"Hu sent a long letter, claiming to offer sincere advice, but it contained many acrimonious words and numerous misinterpretations. I finally feel that Hu is already a person on another plane; his sense of right and wrong and values are quite different from ordinary people. In that case, arguing or reasoning is futile, but his points of advice can be regarded as such." [37]
In July of that year, Hu also came to Europe and met with Chien in Paris on several occasions. At that time, Chiang Kai-shek (蒋介石) had sent a telegram inviting Hu to serve as ambassador to the United States. In his diary on July 20, Chien expressed doubts about Hu's diplomatic capabilities: "Hu received a telegram from Chiang, asking him to be ambassador to the U.S.; he is willing, but I wonder if he has enough political acumen to handle it properly?" [38] Hu's diary on the same day read: "In the afternoon, received a telegram forwarded from New York, signed by Mr. Chiang, intending to appoint me as ambassador to the U.S. This telegram put me in great difficulty. In the afternoon, I discussed this matter with Tuan-sheng but couldn't decide." [39]
Later, under the persuasion of Ambassador to France V. K. Wellington Koo (顾维钧), Ambassador to the U.K. Kuo Tai-chi (郭泰祺), and old friend Professor Lin Hsing-kui (林行规), Hu finally decided to accept the position of ambassador to the U.S. Chien boarded a ship in France to return home and taught at Southwest Associated University (西南联合大学). The following year, Chien was again ordered to go to the U.S. to assist Yan Hui-ching (颜惠庆) in diplomatic matters and to attend the Institute of Pacific Relations conference. He showed Hu, now the ambassador, a paper he intended to submit to the conference on China's unification. In his diary, Hu praised the article as "a piece rich in material, with greatly improved insights" and carefully analyzed the article's structure, offering specific suggestions. [40] However, Chien's observations of Hu remained largely negative:
"Hu fundamentally dislikes everyone and has no great affection for Yan. However, he always feels that Sze Sao-ke is strong, which is another bias. Generally, the older one gets, the more they respect the past; both Yan and Hu suffer from this ailment." (November 6, 1939)
"Probably, Hu is extremely disliked by the Chinese here; this is quite evident." (November 9) [41]
Reflections on the Mission
From the diaries of Hu and Chien, as well as media reactions at the time, this small civilian diplomatic mission made considerable efforts in the U.S. and achieved significant results. Relatively speaking, Chien's contributions were more evident in interactions with academic elites, members of Congress, journalists, and government officials. He especially received earnest guidance from his Harvard mentor, Professor Arthur N. Holcombe (何尔康), on how to fulfill his mission and recommendations on potential persuasive targets. [42] Felix Frankfurter (弗兰克福特), then teaching at Harvard Law School and nominated the following year by President Roosevelt as a Supreme Court Justice, also used his extensive connections to provide letters of introduction for Chien, enabling the envoys to meet with key political figures and opinion leaders in mainstream media. Hu excelled at explaining China's position to a broader range of people in the U.S., Canada, and Europe, winning public sympathy and support for China's anti-Japanese efforts. In an era dominated by isolationism, the envoys' multi-pronged approach—targeting government, academia, and the public—was the most effective way to gradually influence U.S. government decisions. [43] Such a mission was unlikely to yield immediate results; it was unrealistic to expect a few scholars' propaganda efforts to directly and swiftly impact government decisions. As Hu's poem said, "a few useless pens, half a dozen people with heart" [44] persistent efforts over time were the way to go.
However, perhaps due to the kind of self-importance and eagerness for achievement that Hu criticized, Chien was not very satisfied with the process and outcome of fulfilling his mission in the U.S. Many politicians and opinion leaders he met were deeply sympathetic to China on the one hand, but on the other expressed that the U.S. could not provide the urgent assistance China needed, including matters related to the Neutrality Acts and U.S. embargoes on Japan. Some were highly wary of any rhetoric urging U.S. involvement in the war; such was the general American public opinion at the time. [45] Additionally, Chien keenly felt the difficulties arising from the challenge of finding suitable envoys, identity confusion, and the lack of cooperation from diplomatic officials abroad. In London, he wrote:
"Regarding the special status abroad, it's truly difficult to find suitable people, and I deeply feel the ineffectiveness of diplomatic personnel. To fully utilize propaganda abroad, if the propagandist is not someone well-known to foreigners like Hu, they should be given a higher status by the government, ordering diplomatic officials to show respect; otherwise, it's hard to get opportunities for propaganda. But in the U.S., while Hu could make contacts, he always held himself aloof and was difficult; Chang Chong-fu had no such opportunities and simply stayed indoors; I bumped around—this was the case both in the U.S. and the U.K.... Moreover, the harm of diplomatic officials recognizing only official positions and not individuals." (June 2, 1938) [46]
From the perspective of a later observer, many of Chien's troubles also stemmed from his personality. For example, his various disagreements with Hu were related to his prominent traits of arrogance and conceit—the very "vain" he criticized in Hu. [47] Compared to Hu, Chien did have advantages in social sciences, especially in political science and constitutional law (perhaps this was why he doubted whether Hu had the "political mind" to serve as ambassador). However, Hu was over eight years older, and in the previous two decades, his academic achievements in various fields, his leadership in the New Culture Movement, and the immense prestige he accumulated at home and abroad were beyond the reach of Chien and Chang. In such circumstances, if he weren't so high-minded and was willing to play a supporting role, it would not only have helped improve the team's effectiveness but also greatly reduced his inner torment. In his diary, he criticized Chang Chong-fu: "Chang seems extremely mediocre... He agrees with everything Hu advocates; does he genuinely agree, or merely go along?" [48] Little did he know that Chang truly admired Hu, deeply respecting his noble character and outstanding comprehensive talents and abilities in diplomacy. As Chang pointed out in his memoirs:
"A twentieth-century diplomat should be a sincere and amiable true gentleman, sociable and approachable, able to win the affection of the general populace in the host country. Hu Shih was exactly such a person. He once earned the title of 'a great democrat.' During the War of Resistance, he first served in a semi-official capacity, then as an official ambassador to the U.S., which was highly beneficial to the Nationalist government. Unfortunately, after the U.S. entered the war, he was replaced, and the Foreign Minister was succeeded by T. V. Soong (宋子文). After the war, American public opinion shifted from sympathy to hostility toward the Nationalist government. Though there were many reasons, the selection of key officials was not irrelevant. Readers may recall that in the late Sino-Japanese War and post-war period, criticisms of the Nationalist government often accused it of representing the interests of a small special group." [49]
We can also use the words of Wang Shi-chie (王世杰), a scholar-official who collaborated academically with Chien and was at the decision-making center of politics at the time, to evaluate Hu's diplomacy:
"...We can learn a lesson: in modern diplomatic work, the envoy's character and credibility ultimately outweigh their diplomatic skills." [50]
Speaking of which, differences in certain special skills—especially in public speaking—were also reasons for Chien's distress. He had given speeches on some occasions, but as recorded in his diary, he rarely derived much enjoyment from them: "Truly dull, the speech lacked brilliance," "Didn't speak well," "Gave a talk at the Rotary Club—acceptable but dull," "Gave a speech at the Chinese League of Nations Association in London—too few people, utterly uninteresting." Only once, at a banquet of the Danish League of Nations Association, did he feel slightly better about his speech: "Presented the spirit of China's resistance to the association members, receiving widespread appreciation." [51] Professor Zhao Baoxu praised Chien's mission: "At the age of thirty-seven, he was energetic, erudite, fluent in foreign languages, possessed eloquence, and was well-versed in various international interests. This trip abroad for advocacy, maneuvering diplomatically, he handled it with ease, as one can imagine." [52] Indeed, it's only imaginable.
Compared to Hu, who was passionate about public speaking since his youth studying abroad and became an adept orator, the contrast was stark. For example, on March 3, 1938, during Hu's grand lecturing tour in North America—fifty-six lectures in fifty-one days—one event in Canada stood out. That day, "the best and most influential" newspaper in Canada published an interview with him from the previous day titled "A Voice from China." Hu commented, "It's written quite plainly; I'm very pleased." What pleased him even more was the luncheon speech that followed:
"At noon, went to the Canadian Club (men's and women's clubs combined) for lunch; there were five hundred people, and it's said that two or three hundred couldn't get seats and left. My speech today was the best—every word was clear, the conclusion powerful; I could see the audience was moved. After the meeting, Tarr told me, 'Your speech not only had content but also artistry, so everyone was moved.' This speech, since last November, I've given dozens of times and revised it many times, so the 'artistry' has improved." [53]
In 1939, Chien returned to Kunming's Southwest Associated University, continuing to teach in the Department of Political Science in the School of Law and Business, and briefly served as dean of the law school. Besides teaching, he also participated in activities such as the Central National Political Council in Chongqing. He wrote several letters to Hu, hoping to leverage Hu's prestige to secure funding for administrative studies [54] or urging Hu to return home soon to serve as president of Peking University. [55] After the victory of the War of Resistance, Southwest Associated University ended its Kunming years, and the three universities returned to Peiping and Tianjin. In 1947, Chien had the opportunity to visit his alma mater, Harvard University, as a visiting professor, teaching a one-year course on "Government and Politics of China." On December 1, 1948, amid domestic political instability and intense civil war between the Nationalists and Communists, he returned to Peiping. On the 4th, Hu Shih, the president of Peking University, hosted a banquet welcoming Chien's return. Chien's diary briefly noted: "Hu and other leaders of Peking University hosted me; Hu has intentions to leave." Hu's diary on the same day was more detailed, revealing anxiety and disappointment:
"Evening banquet for Chien Tuan-sheng, hosted mainly by Peking University's administrative leaders, so we talked a lot. I finally said that after December 17 (the 50th-anniversary celebration), I plan to go to the government's location to do something useful, and I don't want to be president anymore. When I'm no longer president, I definitely won't write 'History of Philosophy' or 'Annotations on the Water Classic'!
As for what I can do, I don't know myself." [56]
Originally, that year marked the 50th anniversary of Peking University, which should have been a grand celebration. Unfortunately, Peiping had become a "besieged city," with the Liberation Army approaching. Some colleagues, such as Cheng Tian-ting (郑天挺) and Chou Ping-lin (周炳琳), urged Hu to leave quickly. On December 15, Hu and others finally took a government plane to Nanjing. Subsequently, universities in Peiping were taken over by the Chinese Communist Party. From then on, the life trajectories of Chien Tuan-sheng and those who stayed entered a new phase.
Entering the People's Republic
In his later years, Chien Tuan-sheng wrote in his self-narrative:
"On the eve of the birth of New China, I was teaching at Harvard University in the U.S. In the autumn of 1948, the liberation war in China was progressing rapidly, and the situation was gratifying. At that time, although American friends urged me to stay temporarily to teach, I had already seen the dawn of New China and was determined to return home. After making various efforts, I found a ship in San Francisco and finally returned to Peiping in November 1948. Soon, I was elected as the dean of the Law School of Peking University. At that time, Peiping was about to be liberated, and I had made ideological preparations and cooperated with underground party organizations and progressive students to make all the preparations for protecting the university. In January 1949, we finally welcomed the liberation of Peiping." [57]
Looking back at Chien's diary, we know that his course at Harvard ended in May 1948. In the following half-year, he devoted significant effort to organizing his lectures at Harvard into a book, the English version of Government and Politics of China, published by Harvard University Press in 1950. Meanwhile, he frequently interacted with American academia and various figures engaged in diplomatic affairs in the U.S. During this period, his diary entries were brief, almost like a schedule, with one or two sentences, rarely detailing events or expressing inner feelings. However, during his return stopover in San Francisco, his diary entries from September 20 for three consecutive days contained intriguing details that raise doubts: [58]
"Chang Tsi-chang hosted a banquet at Berkeley International House; many guests from UC Berkeley attended, including Oedgand and Gettelle from the political science department. Gettelle asked if I could stay and said he would telephone me tomorrow." (September 20)
"Went to Berkeley to find Gettelle; missed him several times. Later, after a phone call, I learned that he didn't know about the original intention to invite me, as the matter had been handled by Bisson, and there was nothing else." (September 21)
"In the morning, went to Stanford; Wright picked me up and met with Easton Rothwell and Graham Stuart to discuss work matters, but nothing was finalized." (September 22)
A few days later, on the 29th, Chien went to San Francisco to handle passport extension matters and decided to return to Cambridge, Massachusetts. But the eastward journey did not happen. Until October 9, he received a letter from Mrs. Fairbank (Wilma Fairbank), the wife of John K. Fairbank (费正清), stating, "She was quite puzzled by my indecision and decided to fly back." Here, "fly back" meant returning to China. On October 21, he finally boarded a U.S. Navy transport ship to return home.
In the diary, the two people mentioned from UC Berkeley's political science department—Oedgand should be a misspelling of Odegard, and Gettelle had an extra 'e' at the end of his surname. At that time, Peter Odegard and Raymond Gettell were key figures in UC Berkeley's political science department. Easton Rothwell was a professor and associate director at Stanford University's Hoover Institution, and Graham Stuart was a political science professor at Stanford. The information revealed in the diary suggests that Chien was trying to find a position at UC Berkeley or Stanford University, but the position at Berkeley had already been taken by Bisson, and the one at Stanford was uncertain. Indecisive, he even considered returning to Harvard to seek opportunities. Mrs. Fairbank's displeasure might have upset him, and he ultimately chose to return home. The Bisson mentioned in the diary was evidently Thomas Arthur Bisson (毕恩来), an economist and East Asian affairs expert. In June 1937, as an editorial board member of the pro-Communist magazine Amerasia (《美亚》), he visited Yen'an with executive editor Philip Jaffe and his wife, and board member Owen Lattimore. During and after World War II, he participated in U.S. government work in Japan. In 1948, when Chien was in San Francisco, Bisson joined UC Berkeley to teach political science. Due to his pro-Communist leanings, during the rampant McCarthyism period, Bisson was repeatedly summoned by Congress and eventually lost his position at Berkeley. In 1969, he moved to the University of Waterloo in Canada to teach Chinese studies and passed away in 1979. [59]
Believing Chien's self-narrative, many authors emphasized his resolute decision to return home and cooperate with the new regime during the country's upheaval. For example, Chen Xiahong wrote at the beginning of one of his articles:
"In November 1948, Chien Tuan-sheng, residing at Fairbank's home, heard that 'the domestic liberation war was progressing rapidly, and the situation was gratifying.' Ignoring friends' persuasions, he resolutely gave up his visiting professorship at Harvard University and made various efforts to return to the soon-to-be-established People's China." [60]
With Chien's diary, we know that as early as September 8, Chien had embarked on his westward journey and was no longer staying at the Fairbanks' by November. The claim of "resolutely giving up a visiting professorship at Harvard" doesn't hold because his teaching duties there had already concluded, and there was no question of renewal. Additionally, what Chien stated in his self-narrative—that "although American friends urged me to stay temporarily to teach, I had already seen the dawn of New China and was determined to return home"—in reality, he returned home after failing to secure a position. The statements in his self-narrative can be seen as a kind of retroactive prefiguration to demonstrate political correctness. At least from the diary entries of that period, there's no record of him feeling gratified by the "rapid progress of the domestic liberation war." The initial fabrication, under pressure and through constant repetition and reinforcement, gradually blurred the lines between truth and falsehood, eventually becoming an internal conviction. Using the words of a Song dynasty poet: "How can we both forget, and let me depart from here"; the former self gradually faded or even disappeared entirely, and a new self stepped onto the historical stage.
Upon returning to Peking University (北大), besides serving as the dean of the Law School, Mr. Chien also became a standing member of the university's Administrative Committee, making him a senior figure in the management of the "New Peking University." Under Communist rule, he received privileges afforded to only a few among the old intelligentsia, including serving as a member of the National Committee of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference (全国政协委员), attending the founding ceremony of the People's Republic, and participating in national-level diplomatic affairs. However, these positions and activities could not exempt him from the fate of undergoing ideological reform required of the old intellectuals. Perhaps to repay the special treatment from the Communist Party, he appeared to be quite proactive during the thought reform process, at least on the surface. For example, as early as 1951, before the official launch of the nationwide intellectual reform movement, he took the lead in publishing an article in the People's Daily (《人民日报》), claiming that his past actions were all wrong and explicitly expressing his desire to reform himself. [61] He lavishly praised the political consultative system established by the Communist Party as the most democratic system, even surpassing that of the Soviet Union. Compared with the democratic system established by the Communist Party, the so-called Western democratic systems were entirely fake, even anti-democratic. Moreover, he harshly dissected the traditions of Peking University, believing that Tsai Yuan-pei (蔡元培) had brought a free and undisciplined tradition to the university. He directly declared that "Hu Shih's (胡适) thought is the thought of the enemy" and creatively split the May Fourth Movement (五四运动) into two different directions: one was the leftist direction led by the Communist Party, and the other was the so-called reactionary right wing of the May Fourth Movement, which was actually the direction pursued by Hu Shih and others. [62] On July 1, 1952, he published an article in the Guangming Daily (《光明日报》), affectionately thanking the "Communist Party for educating me." At the end of the article, he wrote:
"Thank you, Chairman Mao; thank you, the Party, for curing my illness, saving me, and educating me further so that I can serve the people well. I will continuously reform myself, thoroughly reform myself, earnestly study Marxism-Leninism and Mao Tse-tung Thought, and serve the people wholeheartedly—to do a good job in the faculty reorganization work—to repay the Party and repay Chairman Mao." [63]
He then added two slogans: "Long live the great, glorious, and correct Communist Party of China! Long live the great Chairman Mao!"
Recalling how Chien Tuan-sheng (钱端升), a renowned scholar and political commentator, once stood tall and proud—even advocating dictatorship before democracy—his drastic transformation after entering the new regime, where he belittled himself and trampled on the fundamental spirit of Western constitutional systems, bowing and scraping while shouting "Long live," is truly astonishing. So this is what they mean by "circumstances overpower people"!
However, reading his diaries from the early 1950s, the records are perfunctory and cursory, rarely revealing any emotions. Most entries mention colleagues struggling with self-criticism (for example, Chou Ping-lin (周炳琳) vehemently resisted thought reform, repeatedly "urging Ping-lin to self-criticize"), Peking University and five other universities "launching a movement for loyal and honest study," "In the afternoon, Zhao Bao-xu (赵宝煦) told me the 'conclusion,' saying they trust me; Liu Yi-fan (刘一凡) was present, and I wept," "In the afternoon, supplemented my confession, organized my confession draft," "In the evening, Tsai Shu-heng (蔡枢衡) from the Department of Political Science and Law self-criticized, took the opportunity to scold people, quite obnoxious," "In the evening, Wu En-yu (吴恩裕) self-criticized very late, not approved," with Cheng Hsiao-ho (程筱鹤), Rui Mu (芮沐), Wang Tie-ya (王铁崖), Ho Lin (贺麟), and others lining up to self-criticize. Behind these simple phrases lay endless misery and hardship, yet he rarely recorded any critical opinions about the thought reform movement, nor were there any signs of reflecting on the shortcomings of the new regime through political science theory. [64]
Broken Dreams at the College of Political Science and Law
In the aforementioned letter, where Chien Tuan-sheng persuaded Hu Shih to serve as president of Tsinghua University (清华), there is a sincere confession:
"In short, I believe that Tsinghua has the responsibility to maintain university education in the North in the coming years; anyone capable of being its president should not refuse to try. Being a president is not an interesting thing, I admit. But I dare say, if I were a bit older and more reputable, I would certainly sacrifice my leisurely life of reading to taste the bitterness of being a president." [65]
Twenty-six years later, Chien finally got the opportunity to be a university president, and indeed, it was an experience full of "bitterness."
In 1952, after the establishment of the People's Republic, the Communist authorities, building on the thought reform, launched a large-scale rectification of higher education, the so-called "departmental reorganization" (院系调整). This transformation aimed to completely change the previous Western model of Chinese universities, emulating the Soviet Union by dismembering and merging various departments of comprehensive universities to establish specialized single-discipline colleges. The obvious motivation behind the Soviet-style higher education setup was that, in a country where truth and thought were entirely controlled by the ruling party and the Party leader, the educational concept of comprehensive universities stimulating free thought through interdisciplinary knowledge interaction was no longer appropriate. The task of universities was to cultivate craftsmen-like talents with strong execution capabilities. Needless to say, church universities, as bridgeheads of Western imperialist invasion and Christian infiltration, were to be closed and dismantled as a matter of course.
Against this backdrop, Beijing College of Political Science and Law (北京政法学院), as well as four other colleges of political science and law in East, Southwest, Central South, and Northwest China, were established in regional central cities. The faculty of Beijing College of Political Science and Law mainly came from the original law, political science, and sociology departments of several renowned universities in Beijing. From Peking University: Chien Tuan-sheng , Fei Ching (费青), Rui Mu (芮沐), Wu En-yu (吴恩裕), Wu Chi-chun (吴之椿), Huang Chue-fei (黄觉非); from Yenching University: Yen Ching-yao (严景耀), Lei Chie-Chiong (雷洁琼), Chang Hsi-tong (张锡彤), Chen Fang-chi (陈芳芝), Hsu Tun-chang (徐敦璋), Chang Yen-shen (张雁深); from Tsinghua University: Tseng Ping-Chun (曾炳钧), Yu Chen-peng (于振鹏), Chao Te-Chie (赵德洁), Shao Hsun-ke (邵循恪); from Fu Jen Catholic University: Li Ching-han (李景汉), Tai Ke-kuang (戴克光), Hung Ting-Chung (洪鼎钟). Checking the educational backgrounds of these scholars, one can see that most had studied abroad in Europe and America, were profoundly learned, and had outstanding achievements. [66] Chien Tuan-sheng 's appointment as president was also a timely choice. At Chien's request, Mao Tse-tung (毛泽东) inscribed the name of the college; in early 1953, Mao, in his capacity as Chairman of the Central People's Government, signed the appointment letter for Chien as president.
However, the luxurious faculty lineup and the highly respected president did not ensure the smooth operation of this new type of university. From its inception, various obstacles and conflicts emerged one after another. Chien soon discovered that his position as president was merely titular, without any real power. The ones wielding authority were the Party Committee Secretary of the college and a group of party bureaucrats. Most of them were party and government cadres from the former North China Revolutionary University (华北革命大学) and ex-soldiers from the former "Liberated Areas," completely lacking formal university educational backgrounds and management experience. What they did not lack was a roughness and arrogance based on ideological reliance. From management to teaching, President Chien and the professors were marginalized. In terms of educational models, unlike the professors from the four universities who dreamed of a regular university, the "Revolutionary University faction" (革大派) insisted on turning the college into a short-term training institute for revolutionary political and legal cadres. As "guns and knives" of the dictatorship tool, formal higher education was not only unhelpful but also harmful. Moreover, in the context where the reactionary "Six Law Codes" and the previously dominant bourgeois legal and political sciences were negated, the knowledge possessed by these professors seemed to become "contraband." The few textbooks imported from the Soviet Union—most of which were products of the Stalinist era—provided little usable resources. Even the most erudite scholars could only find themselves in a state of voicelessness.
For Chien and some other scholars, what made them even more helpless was that political science and sociology as university disciplines were abolished, which was tantamount to cutting off the roots. Furthermore, Chien, as a top constitutional expert, was not allowed to teach constitutional law in his own college—a humiliation beyond words. [67] The only consolation was that Chien could still participate in diplomatic and legislative affairs as a respected scholar and professional. During the drafting of the 1954 Constitution, he was a legislative consultant. In foreign affairs, as Vice President of the Chinese People's Institute of Foreign Affairs, he participated in receiving several heavyweight foreign delegations and, as an accompanying member, had many interactions with leaders like Chou En-lai (周恩来). Additionally, due to his travels abroad, he appeared at international conferences held in places like New Delhi, Helsinki, Stockholm, and New Scotia in Canada. Of course, his speeches at these conferences were nothing more than propaganda for the new regime or the new constitution. [68]
Despite frequently appearing in official news due to his participation in constitution-making and diplomatic affairs, bringing him some prominence, he could not dispel the melancholy and depression in his heart. Just past fifty, he was supposed to be at the peak of his career as a scholar and educator, full of accumulated knowledge ready to flourish. However, his involvement in legislation was peripheral, and his diplomatic roles were merely ornamental. What was even more unbearable was that whenever he came to his College of Political Science and Law, he could not avoid the predicament of being unable to make decisions, and the bureaucratic arrogance of the Party Committee officials often left him indignant. As Tu Fu's (杜甫) poem says, "All my life I've wished to go alone; at half a hundred, I feel despondent." (平生独往愿,惆怅年半百) This situation—harboring great ambitions but having to be cautious and achieve nothing—made him feel like sitting on pins and needles. By 1956, the situation seemed to have a slight turn; Chou En-lai's speeches signaled the hope of giving intellectuals a space to speak, and Mao Tse-tung proposed the slogan "Let a hundred flowers bloom; let a hundred schools of thought contend." Later, it was proven to be the "luring the snakes out of their holes" rectification or the "Big Blooming and Contending" movement, and it unfolded vigorously in 1957. This made intellectuals, including Chien Tuan-sheng, feel a loosening, believing they could finally express their long-suppressed opinions. In an interview with a People's Daily reporter, he systematically stated some shortcomings of the Communist Party regarding intellectuals and higher education. He even suggested stopping the establishment of Party Committees in universities:
"Mr. Chien believes that implementing the Party Committee system in schools leads to dual leadership: on one side is the Party Committee, and on the other is an institution like the Administrative Committee. This inevitably causes several responsible Party members to do a lot of repetitive work, wasting much time. Therefore, he believes that colleges can do without Party Committee leadership and instead be led by the Administrative Committee, which would be much more convenient. The Party's leading comrades in schools should always take on political and ideological leadership for both Party members and non-Party individuals, so not having a Party Committee does not mean the Party does not lead." [69]
As an educator, Chien naturally wanted to express his dissatisfaction with the educational model. On May 29, 1957, at a faculty symposium at the College of Political Science and Law, he reviewed the origin of this issue. From its inception, whether the college should be run as a regular four-year university of political science and law or as a basic training class became a focal point of endless disputes between the "Revolutionary University faction" and the "Peking University faction." In the first two years, the group of "old intellectuals" led by Chien was always at a disadvantage. Although in 1954 it was finally decided to change from a cadre training class to a four-year program, the dominance of the "Revolutionary University faction" formed obstacles to educational regularization, such as excluding non-Party intellectuals, prohibiting scholars from engaging in professional research and teaching, rigid hierarchies, and various practices in teaching management that deviated from the characteristics of higher education. In his speech, he explicitly proposed that to accelerate regularization, it was necessary to "rectify the remnants of the Revolutionary University." [70]
The consequences of this series of frank criticisms were utterly unexpected by Chien; it was nothing short of a catastrophe. His speech on May 29 was followed by the launch of the Anti-Rightist Movement in June. He was immediately labeled a "Rightist" and became the number one Rightist in the legal academia of Beijing and even all of China. The People's Daily published a scathing critique on July 20 titled "Chien Tuan-sheng is a Rightist Conspirator in the Legal Academia," and a series of criticism meetings and a flood of critique articles overwhelmed him. The most tragic part was that those scholars who had previously echoed Chien and actively raised criticisms of various shortcomings turned against him to protect themselves, exposing and criticizing him, accusing him of "having many anti-Party conspiracies" and "long harboring sinister intentions to rival the Communist Party." This included professors he had previously trusted and relied upon, such as the so-called "Three Musketeers" under Chien: Professors Wang Tie-ya (王铁崖), Kung Hsiang-rui (龚祥瑞), and Lou Bang-yan (楼邦彦), as well as Tai Ke-kuang (戴克光), Rui Mu (芮沐), and younger scholars like Chen Guangzhong (陈光中). [71] Ironically, those who rose to denounce Chien soon began attacking each other, exposing one another. The situation resembled a group of people fighting and pushing on the edge of a cliff, each trying their utmost to push others off, but ultimately all meeting the tragic fate of falling into the abyss together. In the end, a nonexistent "Chien Tuan-sheng Anti-Party Group" was forcibly fabricated in the legal academia.
On August 6, the People's Daily published an article by Chien that was almost a self-flaying confession titled "My Crimes." Not only did he fully accept all the accusations against him, but he also voluntarily confessed some unknown details, such as the content of private correspondence with "American spy Professor Fairbank" after 1949 and his contacts with American diplomats and scholars. He had no choice but to denounce himself: "I am a political careerist cloaked in the guise of a 'scholar'." The following year, his position as president, along with other prestigious titles, was stripped away. Not only was his dream of being a university president completely shattered, but any academic research was also abandoned. Awaiting him were twenty long years of bitterness and silence.
When leaving the country, Hu Shih (胡适) and Fu Ssu-nien (傅斯年) once tearfully recited Tao Yuan-ming's (陶渊明) verses by the Yangtze River: "Planting mulberries by the Yangtze, hoping to harvest in three years. Just as the branches and leaves begin to flourish, suddenly, the mountains and rivers change. The branches and leaves are broken, the roots and trunk float across the sea." For intellectuals under Communist rule, especially those who suffered various hardships and were forced to flee overseas like Hu and Fu, these verses were truly apt and poignant. Hu Shih, who crossed the sea, was naturally extremely concerned about and sympathetic to the plight of the intellectual community. In fact, his position as president of Peking University was never officially revoked. As the "absent president," he paid close attention to "our Peking University" and the circumstances of old friends like Chien Tuan-sheng. For example, the Law Department canceled thirteen old law courses, and Chien served as a standing member of the Administrative Committee and dean of the Law School. [72] On August 16, 1949, he wrote to Chao Yuen-ren (赵元任) and his wife, saying he saw in the Ta Kung Pao (《大公报》) that the preparatory committee for the "National Social Science Workers' Representative Conference" had elected standing committee members, "including Tao Meng-ho (陶孟和) and Chang Hsi-ruo (张奚若), but not Tuan-sheng." [73] In early 1950, Edmund Chi Chien Lin (林继俭), the second son of his old friend Lin Hsing-kui (林行规) and a second-year law student at Peking University, escaped to New York to meet Hu, reporting on the situation at Peking University under the Military Control Commission, where students lined up to confess. [74] In August 1956, he noted information about Chien attending a conference in Canada. [75] As the Anti-Rightist Movement began, he worried about the fate of familiar scholars, recording in his diary the news that Democratic League standing committee members, including Chien, were being purged. [76] In April 1961, the year before his death, he spoke in Taipei with Chien Ssu-liang (钱思亮) and others about the situation of scholars like Chien, saying, "I heard they are living very poorly." [77] In December of the same year, he saw in the United Daily News (《联合报》) that "the names of more than 370 mainland scholars who have had their Rightist labels removed... the first is Chien Tuan-sheng." [78] However, during that year, Chalmers A. Johnson, whom we previously cited, published a paper titled "An Intellectual Weed in the Socialist Garden: The Case of Ch'ien Tuan-Sheng" in the well-known journal The China Quarterly, which did not seem to catch Hu Shih's attention. Perhaps it can be explained by the fact that he was often ill and hospitalized that year, with no time to pay attention.
Regarding the relationship between the two, a slightly unusual matter is that in 1954, the Communist Party launched a vigorous campaign criticizing Hu Shih, eventually producing eight large volumes titled Criticism of Hu Shih's Thought (《胡适思想批判》). One of the volumes focused on the critique of Hu's political thought. Among the more than 160 authors in the entire collection, Chien, who by political status and professional reputation should not have been absent, was nowhere to be found. [79]
According to Tong Te-kong (唐德刚), Hu Shih was one of the most enthusiastic readers of these eight volumes. He paid close attention to the critical articles written by former colleagues, old acquaintances, and former students. [80] Previously, Chien, who had denounced Hu as an enemy, did not participate in this sweeping academic denunciation. How Hu Shih felt about this at the time—whether slightly disappointed or somewhat comforted—is unknown.
Acknowledgments
This article benefited greatly from the enthusiastic assistance of my academic friends Gao Huanyue (高浣月), Jiang Hao (蒋浩), Wei Jingyue (魏景岳), Cheng Tao (程韬), Chen Xiahong (陈夏红), Wang Gaijiao (王改娇), Sun Yimeng (孙祎萌), Chen Hongguo (谌洪果), Shi Daxiao (史大晓), Kang Ning (康宁), and others. I extend my sincere gratitude to them.
Notes
[1] The first series of the Complete Works of Chien Tuan-sheng (《钱端升全集》) was edited by Dr. Chen Xiahong (陈夏红) and published by the China University of Political Science and Law Press in 2017. It comprises twelve volumes, including Comparative Constitutional Law (《比较宪法》), The Government of France (《法国的政府》), The Government of Germany (《德国的政府》), A History of the Political System of the Republic of China (《民国政制史》), and Selected Papers (《文选》), among others. An unusual arrangement was the inclusion of the two-volume Chronicle of Mr. Chien Tuan-sheng (《钱端升先生年谱长编》) compiled by Chen Xiahong. The second series, edited by Huang Jin (黄进) and Gao Huanyue (高浣月), was published by the same press in 2022 and consists of five volumes. The first volume contains some of Mr. Chien's coursework from his time studying at Harvard; volumes two and three are his translation of History of England; volumes four and five are his diaries. In my impression, aside from the chronicle and related articles by Chen Xiahong, two other pieces of literature on Chien Tuan-sheng ’s life and thought are worth reading. One is Liu Meng's "Mr. Chien Tuan-sheng: Navigating Between Academia and Politics" (刘猛:“周旋于学术和政治间的钱端升先生”), Chongqing University Law Review, Issue 1, Social Sciences Academic Press, July 2018; the other is Xu Jilin's “Chien Tuan-sheng as an Intellectual” (许纪霖:“作为知识分子的钱端升”), Peking University Political Science Review, Issue 9, Commercial Press, 2021. Xu Jilin's paper notably compares Chien and Hu Shih (胡适) as two typical liberal intellectuals.
[2] See my article "People and Events Around Hu Shih" (“胡适周边的人与事”), Biographical Literature (《传记文学》), Taipei, December 2023.
[3] I have always opposed replacing the Wade-Giles romanization system with Hanyu Pinyin for Chinese names. Cf. He Weifang(贺卫方), “A Objection to Hanyu Pinyin” (“对汉语拼音的一点异议”), Sanlian Life Weekly (《三联生活周刊》), Issue 9, March 13, 2006; and “Hanyu Pinyin: A Broken Cultural Bridge” (“汉语拼音,文化断桥”), Apple Daily (《苹果日报》), Hong Kong, July 15, 2012.
[4] In his diary entry on January 13, 1938, Hu Shih directly wrote "旅顺楼" (Lüshun Tower), which is less prone to misunderstanding. See Complete Diary of Hu Shih (《胡适日记全编》), compiled by Cao Boyan (曹伯言), Anhui Education Press, 2001 (hereafter referred to as Hu Shih's Diary), Volume 7, page 12: "Dined at Lüshun Tower with Chien and Chang."
[5] General Preface, page 6. The three examples cited earlier in this paragraph can be found in Diary of Chien Tuan-sheng (《钱端升日记》), Volume 1, pp. 21, 40, and 73, respectively. Hereafter, Diary of Chien Tuan-sheng is abbreviated as Diary.
[6] Diary, Volume 1, pages 13 and 15.
[7] See Peter Conn, Pearl S. Buck: A Cultural Biography. Cambridge, England; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Additionally, Hu Shih met with Pearl Buck and Walsh in Shanghai on February 8, 1934: "At 7:30, went to Lin Yu-tang's home for dinner; Mrs. Pearl Buck and Mr. Walsh, editor of Asia magazine, were present." See Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 6, p. 317.
[8] For details, refer to He Weifang's “Hu Shih and the Left-Wing Magazine Amerasia" (“胡适与左派杂志《美亚》”), Biographical Literature (《传记文学》), Taipei, July 2024.
[9] Diary, Volume 1, p.18.
[10] Coincidentally, in his diary entry on May 6, 1940, Hu Shih noted several Western words he learned that day, including "obiter dictum." He appended the English explanation: "a passing remark," especially "a judge's incidental expression of opinion, not essential to the decision." See Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 7, p. 384.
[11] Compiled by the Institute of Modern History, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, Selected Correspondence of Hu Shih (《胡适来往书信选》) (hereafter referred to as Selected Correspondence), Zhonghua Book Company, 1979. The letter is found in Volume 1, pages 406–409. Hu Shih's marginal notes are in the footnotes on page 406.
[12] Ibid., pp. 421–422.
[13] Ibid., page 480. The "Mr. Kuo" mentioned likely refers to Kuo Hung-sheng (郭鸿声), former president of Southeast University, as mentioned in Chien's previous letter.
[14] Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 5, pp. 13–14.
[15] Published in Eastern Miscellany (《东方杂志》), Volume 31, Issue 1, and Independent Review (《独立评论》), Issues 83 and 84, respectively.
[16] Hu Shih, A Year's Discussion on Democracy and Dictatorship (“一年来关于民治与独裁的讨论”), Eastern Miscellany, Volume 32, Issue 1, January 1935.
[17] For example, in Collected Memorial Essays for Mr. Chien Tuan-sheng (《钱端升先生纪念文集》), edited by Zhao Baoxu (赵宝煦), Xia Jisheng (夏吉生), and Zhou Zhonghai (周忠海), China University of Political Science and Law Press, 2000, the articles—including Chien's “My Self-Narrative “(“我的自述”)—are all conspicuously silent about this debate between Chien and Hu.
[18] From this passage, it's clear that Professor Xu Jilin (许纪霖) believes that Chien's advocacy of so-called authoritarian liberalism, which maintains dictatorial politics while still protecting people's freedom, is untenable. On the contrary, Chien explicitly advocated sacrificing freedom for welfare. See Xu Jilin, previously cited.
[19] Seven years later, Chien published another article strongly advocating one-party rule, exemplifying his consistent stance. However, mentioning the protection of freedom alongside ensuring people's welfare was a revision. The article argued that China should have a strong government led by virtuous and capable individuals, with the goal of universal welfare for the people. The state should have authority, and the people should have freedom. To achieve this, unwavering implementation of one-party rule was necessary. Even when China achieved peace and independence (i.e., established a "new China"), the one-party rule of the Nationalist Party should be maintained. "Accepting the Three Principles of the People on one hand while opposing the Nationalist Party on the other is, I believe, disloyal and unsustainable." See “The New China and One-Party Rule” (“新中国与一党制”), Central Weekly (《中央周刊》), Volume 4, Issue 4, September 4, 1941. Nine years later, he would have the opportunity to personally experience whether dictatorial politics and civil liberties could coexist.
[20] At the end of the year, Hu Shih summarized the past year, saying, "The discussion on democracy and dictatorship continued for a year without much impact." See Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 6, p. 427.
[21] Hu Shih, “China Has No Need or Possibility for Dictatorship,” Independent Review Issue 130, December 9, 1934.
[22] "In 1926, shortly after returning to China and teaching at Tsinghua, Chien Tuan-sheng , eager to serve his country through academia and participate in real politics, joined the Nationalist Party under the introduction of his friend Chen Han-sheng." See Chen Rui, "The First President of Beijing College of Political Science and Law Who Applied Four Times to Join the Party: Chien Tuan-sheng," China University of Political Science and Law News, accessed April 14, 2024.
[23] See Wang Qisheng, Revolution and Counter-Revolution: The Politics of the Republic of China from a Socio-Cultural Perspective, Social Sciences Academic Press, 2010, pp. 250–251.
[24] See Wang Qingjia, “Student Movements and Professors: An Examination of the Interaction Between Politics and Academia Before and After the War of Resistance, "Historical Research, Issue 4, 2005.
[25] According to Mr. He Zhaowu's memoir, such nicknames as "Wen Yidov" and "Luo Longski" were circulated at Southwest Associated University at the time. See He Zhaowu (oral), Wen Jing (written), School Years, Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 2022, p. 187.
[26] Although Chien Tuan-sheng (钱端升) often criticized the Nationalist government, he belonged to the so-called liberal left and was clearly averse to pro-Communist scholars. For instance, in 1939, when he went to the United States to attend the Institute of Pacific Relations, he found Chinese representative Ch’ao-ting Chi 's (冀朝鼎) fondness for leftist propaganda quite unsettling. Later, when the American Frederick V. Field (菲尔德) hosted him and Chou Geng-sheng (周鲠生) at a banquet, he discovered during their conversation that Field was extremely biased toward the Communist Party. In his diary, he said he found this "hard to understand." (Diary, Volume 1, pages 144 and 147.) It appears that at the time, Chien was entirely unaware of the identities of these two individuals: Ch’ao-ting Chi was an underground member of the Chinese Communist Party, and Field—Frederick V. Field (1905–2000)—was also a member of the American Communist Party (see the New York Times obituary on February 7, 2000). Additionally, when Southwest Associated University (西南联大) was ordered to dismiss the pro-Communist scholar Luo Longji (罗隆基), the university authorities found it quite tricky. It was Chien who devised a way to "naturally dismiss" him without leaving any traces. See Cheng Tian-ting (郑天挺), previously cited, p. 545. Moreover, an American political scientist specifically analyzed Chien's political stance as a case study of an intellectual; see Chalmers A. Johnson, "An Intellectual Weed in the Socialist Garden: The Case of Ch'ien Tuan-Sheng," The China Quarterly, no. 6, 1961, pp. 29–52. In the article, Johnson quotes from a letter Chien wrote to Quincy Wright, criticizing the perplexing support of American leftist intellectuals for the Chinese Communist Party and its confrontation against the central government. He believed that those American authors' support for Yen'an's propaganda not only encouraged the Communist troops who harbored disloyalty toward the government but also hindered public opinion from exerting healthy pressure on the Chongqing government, thereby harming the cause of freedom.
[27] Chang Chong-fu (张忠绂), born in 1901 in Wuchang, Hubei Province, studied journalism, political science, international law, and international politics at the Universities of Missouri, Michigan, and Harvard. In 1928, he received his Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins University. He later served as secretary to Minister of Foreign Affairs Wu Chao-shu (伍朝枢) and as secretary to the Chinese Legation in the United States. In 1931, invited by Chiang Meng-lin (蒋梦麟) and Chou Ping-lin (周炳琳), he became a professor in the Department of Political Science at the Law School of Peking University.
[28] Hu Shih's Diary (《胡适日记》), Volume 7, pp. 16–17. The meaning of the last sentence is somewhat ambiguous; it could be interpreted that Chinese scholars are unwilling to be subordinate, appearing modest in all things but unwilling to sincerely accept others as leaders.
[29] Ibid., p. 20. However, in Chien's diary, he recounts that Hu Shih was dissatisfied with the government and intended to return to China: "Hu was very unhappy that Nanjing had ignored him for many days, wanting to return home early and unwilling to engage in more activities; therefore, he wrote to Fu Ssu-nien to tell the truth, hoping the government would show more courtesy to Hu." (Diary, Volume 1, p. 13.)
[30] Diary, Volume 1, p. 3.
[31] Ibid., p. 14.
[32] Ibid., respectively on pp. 15, 16, and 33.
[33] Ibid., p. 47.
[34] Ibid., p. 55.
[35] Ibid., p. 56. Hu Shih's diary on the same day also expressed his feelings of reluctant farewell: "Today, Tuan-sheng boarded the Queen Mary to England; I escorted him onto the ship. Suddenly, it began to snow today, making the parting all the more poignant." (Hu Shih's Diary [《胡适日记》], Volume 7, p. 76.)
[36] Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 7, p. 89.
[37] I found this passage in the yet-to-be-published manuscript My Father Chien Tuan-sheng (《我的父亲钱端升》) by Mr. Chien's son, Chien Chong-hsing (钱仲兴). However, in the officially published Diary of Chien Tuan-sheng (《钱端升日记》), the notation "omitted" appears, and the passage was not included. When I inquired with Dr. Wang Gaijiao (王改娇), the editor of the diary, she explained that it was deleted at the family's request. This is puzzling. As cited in this article, similar expressions of dissatisfaction with Hu Shih appear frequently in Chien's diary, and Mr. Chien Chong-hsing also quoted them in his book. So why omit them from the diary? Furthermore, in the Selected Correspondence (《书信选》), only several letters from Chien to Hu are included, with no letters from Hu to Chien. Dr. Wang told me that the Chien Tuan-sheng Memorial Hall holds hundreds of pieces of correspondence involving Chien, mostly letters from others after 1949. Given the intense anti-Hu campaigns he experienced, Hu Shih's letters probably did not survive.
[38] Diary, Volume 1, p. 85.
[39] Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 7, p. 138.
[40] Ibid., pp. 315–317. Chien's paper was titled "China's Unity: An Examination." The diary's editors translated it as "China's Unification: A Test" (Diary, Volume 1, p. 142), which is inaccurate; it should be "China's Unification: An Investigation." When finally submitted to the Institute of Pacific Relations, the title was changed to "China's National Unification: Some Political and Administrative Aspects." See Chalmers A. Johnson, previously cited, p. 33.
[41] Diary, Volume 1, p. 141. On this occasion, Chien also wrote a letter to Wang Shi-chie (王世杰), reporting on U.S. diplomatic developments. In it, he evaluated Hu Shih: "Hu's shortcoming is his inability to delegate tasks, so that both major and minor matters have responsible people to pursue them." However, the letter also criticized the government's dispatch of others to the U.S. for diplomatic and propaganda work, causing difficulties for the ambassador, and he expressed that it was not appropriate to replace the ambassador at this time. See "Letter from Chou Geng-sheng and Others to Wang Shi-chie Reporting on U.S. Diplomatic Trends," Republic of China Archives (《民国档案》), 2010, Issue 2, Second Historical Archives of China. Additionally, Sun Xiaoxia (孙笑侠) believes that "from Hu Shih's diary, it seems he most enjoyed partnering with Chien Tuan-sheng." See Sun Xiaoxia, Legal Scholars: Retelling Sixty Typical Figures in Early Modern China (《法科知识人:现代中国早期六十位典型人物重述》), Commercial Press, 2023, p. 1299. However, from the diaries of both Hu and Chien, I see a completely different picture.
[42] Arthur N. Holcombe, a scholar who profoundly influenced Chien's academic thought. At the time of Chien's visit to the U.S., Holcombe had recently stepped down as president of the American Political Science Association and was highly respected in American academic and political circles. He was also quite interested in China's modern political evolution, publishing works like The Spirit of the Chinese Revolution (《中国革命的精神》) as early as the 1930s, and later participating in drafting the 1947 Constitution of the Republic of China. Additionally, according to Hu Shih's diary on May 10, 1935, Holcombe gave a lecture at Peking University that day titled "America's Pacific Policy"; see Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 6, p. 467.
[43] See Chang Chong-fu (张忠绂), Perplexed Collection (《迷惘集》), Wenhai Publishing House, 1978, pp. 114–117. I have also conducted some analysis of Hu Shih's diplomatic work and its effects during this period and as ambassador; see He Weifang (贺卫方), "Ambassador Hu Shihh and Sino-Japanese Relations" (《胡适大使与中日关系》), Biographical Literature (Taipei), April 2023, pp. 4–15.
[44] A line from a poem Hu Shih composed at the request of Chen Yin-ko (陈寅恪) for the calligraphy of Tang Ching-song (唐景崧); on September 26, 1931, he transcribed it to Chou Tsuo-ren (周作人). See the previously cited Selected Correspondence, Volume 2, p. 83.
[45] In a letter dated January 7, 1940, Wong Wen-hao (翁文灏) wrote to Hu Shih, saying, "Ninety-five percent of American opinion opposes Japan's 'New Order in East Asia,' yet at least as many, if not more, do not support going to war with Japan." Ibid., p. 450.
[46] Diary, Volume 1, pp. 71–72.
[47] When Ping-ti Ho(何炳棣) was studying in the graduate program of the History Department at Southwest Associated University, he had some interactions with Chien. He said, "The faculty and students of Tsinghua and Southwest Associated University had the impression that Mr. Chien had a deep foundation in political science and law, and his English writing ability was strong... Although he couldn't be said to be aloof, it wasn't easy to become close to him." See his Reading History and Experiencing Life for Sixty Years (《读史阅世六十年》), Guangxi Normal University Press, 2005, p. 173.
[48] Diary, October 28, 1937, Volume 1, p. 13.
[49] Chang Chong=fu, Perplexed Collection, previously cited, p. 118.
[50] Li Ching-lai (李青来), "Wang Shi-chie Discusses Hu Shih and Politics" (《王世杰谈胡适与政治》), Central Daily News, March 1, 1962; quoted in Hu Song-ping (胡颂平), ibid., p. 1747. Additionally, Tung Chiao (董桥) provided a remarkably insightful evaluation of Hu Shih: "The reason Mr. Hu enjoyed great fame throughout his life was not only because he managed his relationships within academic circles well but also because he intermittently ventured into politics outside academia, was enthusiastic about diplomacy, knew when to advance and retreat, and thus maintained his enduring reputation and unshaken position. Mr. Hu's personal finesse surpassed his competence in doing things; competence can build achievements, but finesse can forge harmony among people. That is the cornerstone of Hu Shih's pivotal position." See his Reading Hu Shih (《读胡适》), Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 2019, p. 49.
[51] The last instance is in Diary, Volume 1, p. 81. A student from Southwest Associated University later recalled his experience attending Chien's constitutional law class: "At the time, upon hearing that Mr. Chien would teach constitutional law, everyone eagerly scrambled for front-row seats, but after one lecture, no one wanted to attend the second one. Mr. Chien's words were verbose and failed to highlight key points." See Chen Tao-yi (陈道毅), “Miscellaneous Memories of Southwest Associated University” (《西南联大旧事杂忆》), included in The End of a Professional Assassin from the Military Intelligence Bureau (《军统职业杀手的末日》), compiled by the Editorial Department of Cultural and Historical Essence, China Literature and History Press, 2005, p. 308. My mentor at China University of Political Science and Law, Professor Pan Huafang (潘华仿), took Chien's courses while studying in the Department of Political Science at Peking University. Mr. Pan privately told us that although Mr. Chien was very knowledgeable, his lectures were not lively and lacked appeal.
[52] Zhao Baoxu (赵宝煦), “Sincere Patriotic Heart and Deep Love for the Country “(《拳拳爱国心 殷殷报国情》), included in the previously cited compilation by Zhao Baoxu and others, p. 18.
[53] Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 7, p. 50. For multiple examples of Hu Shih's highly infectious speeches, see He Weifang, Ambassador Hu Shih and Sino-Japanese Relations, previously cited.
[54] Selected Correspondence, Volume 2, pp. 308–309.
[55] Selected Correspondence, Volume 3, p. 22.
[56] Hu Shih's Diary, Volume 7, p. 726.
[57] Chien Tuan-sheng , “My Self-Narrative” (《我的自述》), in Selected Academic Works of Chien Tuan-sheng (《钱端升学术论著自选集》), Beijing Normal University Press, 1991; this self-narrative is also included in the previously cited compilation by Zhao Baoxu and others, pp. 390–398.
[58] Diary, Volume 1, p. 231.
[59] For details on Bisson's life, see He Weifang, “Hu Shihh and the Left-Wing Magazine ‘Amerasia’"(《胡适与左派杂志〈美亚〉》), previously cited.
[60] Chen Xiahong, “Chien Tuan-sheng: ‘I Was Greatly Mistaken’" (《钱端升:“我大大地错了”》), Twenty-First Century (Hong Kong), January 2006 (Issue 46). Additionally, in an article commemorating their father, Chien's three sons wrote: "In 1948, as China was about to be liberated, he gave up a lucrative invitation from Columbia University and resolutely returned to his homeland." See Chien Ta-tu (钱大都), Chien Chhong-hsing (钱仲兴), and Chien Chao-nan (钱召南), “Remembering Our Father “(《回忆我们的父亲》), included in the previously cited compilation by Zhao Baoxu and others, pp. 50–55. However, according to the Diary, Columbia University's invitation to teach was already a matter in 1949. Diary entry on March 9: "Received a telegram from Nat Peffer saying Columbia University intends to invite me to teach; must decline." On the 15th: "Sent reply to N.P.'s telegram today, declining." On February 28, Peking University had already been taken over by the Military Control Commission of the People's Liberation Army, so "must decline." See Diary, Volume 2, p. 252. The inviter, Nathaniel Peffer (裴斐), had spent 25 years in China, was an expert in international relations, and taught at Columbia University's Department of Public Law and Government from 1937 to 1958.
[61] Chien Tuan-sheng, Studying to Better Serve the Motherland Through Self-Transformation (《为改造自己更好地服务祖国而学习》), People's Daily, November 6, 1951.
[62] Regarding Chien's criticisms and self-criticisms during the intellectual reform movement, Chen Xiahong's compiled Chronicle includes a large amount of related literature. Liu Meng's previously cited article also provides a detailed discussion.
[63] Chien Tuan-sheng, “The Communist Party Educated Me” (《共产党教育了我》), Guangming Daily, July 1, 1952.
[64] The diary of Chien's former Tsinghua colleague, Wu Mi (吴宓), is quite different. As a professor at Southwest Normal College, Wu candidly expressed his dissatisfaction with the new regime in his diary. For example, in his diary on April 11, 1951, he criticized the Communist Party: "Interfering everywhere with the lives, thoughts, and preferences of all men and women, young and old in the country, stipulating everything, allowing no freedom, no moment of rest. Despotism has reached its extreme; fatigue and suffering are unbearable. This is still the beginning; if such laws are enforced for a long time, I truly do not know what will become of the masses, what flavor life will have... Now that the Communist Party is going to dominate all five continents of the world, I don't know when and where the natural reaction of the human heart—common sense, true feelings, reason—will arise!" See Diary of Wu Mi, Series II (《吴宓日记续编》), edited by Wu Xuezhao (吴学昭), Beijing: Sanlian Press, 2006, Volume 1, pp. 107–108. He was warned: "When talking with students, every word and sentence must strictly follow the Party and government's instructions, and no personal opinions should be revealed... In the past, I admired Gu Ting-lin (顾亭林) and wanted to sow the seeds of Chinese culture; now I only wish for a quick death." Ibid., Volume 2, p. 326. As a literature professor, Wu Mi's political insight and judgment far surpassed that of political science professor Chien Tuan-sheng, and he was much more candid and profound. After the regime change, Wu frequently wrote in his diary that he regretted not dying sooner, which is deeply moving to read.
[65] Selected Correspondence, Volume 1, p. 408.
[66] For information on the faculty of Beijing College of Political Science and Law during its early establishment, see Chen Guangzhong (陈光中), “My Experience of the 1952 Higher Education Departmental Adjustment and the Establishment of Beijing College of Political Science and Law” (《我所经历的一九五二年高校院系调整和北京政法学院的成立》), Jurist's Tea House, Issue 44, Shandong People's Publishing House, April 2014.
[67] “Using the Formula 'Not Revolutionary Is Counter-Revolutionary' to Reform the Thoughts of Old Intellectuals Is Unjust (Speech by Lou Bangyan at the Professors' Symposium of Beijing College of Political Science and Law on May 22)” (《用“不革命就是反革命”的公式来改造旧知识分子的思想是不公正的(楼邦彦在北京政法学院教授座谈会五月二十二日会议上的发言)》), in Collection of Rightist Fallacies in the Legal Circles (《政法界右派分子谬论汇集》), compiled by the Data Office of the Chinese Political and Legal Society, Law Press, 1957, p. 47.
[68] For a more detailed description of Chien's participation in diplomacy and international propaganda, see Chalmers A. Johnson, previously cited.
[69] “Creating New Experiences in Party-Mass Relations: Interview with President Chien Tuan-sheng of Beijing College of Political Science and Law on the Rectification Movement” (《为党群关系创造新经验:北京政法学院院长钱端升先生谈整风》), People's Daily, May 16, 1957.
[70] Chien Tuan-sheng, “Criticizing the Three Harms” (《批评三害》), in Collection of Rightist Fallacies in the Legal Circles, compiled by the Data Room of the Chinese Political and Legal Society, Beijing: Law Press, 1957.
[71] See Chen Xiahong, Chronicle, Volume 2, p. 381 and subsequent pages for multiple newspaper reports. Lou Bang-yan (楼邦彦) revealed that Chien had expressed dissatisfaction to him, saying that although Chiang Kai-shek's portrait was removed from Tiananmen Gate Tower and replaced with Chairman Mao's, there wasn't much difference between the two. See Lou Bang-yan, “The Reactionary Words and Deeds of Chien Tuan-sheng “(《钱端升的反动言行》), Workers' Daily, July 13, 1957.
[72] Hu Shih's Diary, May 14, 1949, Volume 7, pp. 762–764.
[73] Ji Xianlin (季羡林), editor-in-chief, Complete Works of Hu Shih (《胡适全集》), Anhui Education Press, 2003, Volume 25, p. 412.
[74] Hu Shih's Diary, January 7, 1950, Volume 8, p. 9.
[75] Hu Shih's Diary, August 16, 1956, ibid., p. 448.
[76] Ibid., p. 498.
[77] Compiled by Hu Song-ping (胡颂平), Late Conversations of Mr. Hu Shih (《胡适之先生晚年谈话录》), Taipei: Linking Publishing Company, 1984, p. 169.
[78] Compiled by Hu Song-ping, Draft Chronological Biography of Mr. Hu Shih (《胡适之先生年谱长编初稿》), Volume 10, Taipei: Linking Publishing Company, 1990, third printing, p. 3844.
[79] Dong Ligong (董立功), “An Examination of the Author Group of Criticism of Hu Shih's Thought “(《〈胡适思想批判〉作者群体考察》), Jianghuai Culture and History (《江淮文史》), 2013, Issue 5.
[80] See Tong Te-Kong (唐德刚), Miscellaneous Memories of Hu Shih (《胡适杂忆》), Guangxi Normal University Press, 2015, second edition, pp. 52–53.
This translation is authorized by the author and undertaken by the China Thought Express editorial team. The original text was submit by the author and can be found on Biographical Literature(《傳記文學》,台北)(volume 125, Issues 749 & 750, Nov. & Dec. 2024) in Chinese. Kindly attribute the translation if referenced.
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This was an amazing read, so thoroughly researched. I loved it!