Red Army (1934-1936)

Author: Shi Yonggang
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-10-01
Features: 2006 was the 70th anniversary of the Long March of the Red Army. This miracle has long been commemorated, but this time the time coordinates have changed. There are the Red Army, their Long March; the Republic of China,, speculators from New York, Soviets; the Communist Party being pursued by the Kuomintang; a 1930s process placed on a unified map of China remains a mystery. The description of the 1930s is the same. The 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s—each generation of chroniclers has been the same. 70 years, almost a countdown to the next century. In another 30 years, will these events still be recorded? Or how will they be recorded? Today, 70 years later, the Red Army has become an interesting commemorative subject in both official and, fashion and tradition, between eyewitnesses and imaginers. Each defines the distant army in their own way, even corroborating each other. 90 years old, 80 years old, 70 years old, 60 years old, 50 years old, 40 years old, 30 years old, 20 years old, 10 years old. Such a depth and cross-section of age. Like today's China, tradition and modernity coexist, rich and complex, simple yet full of vitality and dynamism. Why do such different groups equally cherish a bygone era? How do they find the code for collective coexistence? On this path of survival, Mao and his troops have been correcting their direction for two years, paying the lives of over 100,000 people to determine the end—or the beginning—of this path. It is as described by Zweig as "the shining of human," those stars are shining in 1930s China. Today, 70 years later, in the so-called "sense of historical direction" and the so-called context of globalization, we still try to discern the latitude and longitude of this 1930s route through the red hue of this army on the historical map, and strive to return to common sense. The Red Army, 70 years later, in official and, fashion and tradition, between eyewitnesses and imaginers, has become an interesting commemorative subject. Each defines the distant army in their own way, even corroborating each other. 90 years old, 80 years old, 70 years old, 60 years old, 50 years old, 40 years old, 30 years old, 20 years old, 10 years old. Such a depth and cross-section of age. Like today's China, tradition and modernity coexist, rich and complex, simple yet full of vitality and dynamism. Why do such different groups equally cherish a bygone era? How do they find the code for collective coexistence? On this path of survival, Mao and his troops have been correcting their direction for two years, paying the lives of over 100,000 people to determine the end—or the beginning—of this path. It is as described by Zweig as "the shining of human," those stars are shining in 1930s China. Today, 70 years later, in the so-called "sense of historical direction" and the so-called context of globalization, we still try to discern the latitude and longitude of this 1930s route through the red hue of this army on the historical map, and strive to return to common sense.