Red Army 1934-1936

Author: Shi Yonggang
Publisher:
Publication Date: 2006-10-01
Features: 2006 was the 70th anniversary of the Long March of the Red Army. This miracle had long been commemorated, but this time the time frame had changed. There were 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 remained a mystery. The description of the 1930s was the same. The 1940s, 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s—each generation of chroniclers faced the same enigma. Seventy years, almost a countdown to the next century. In another 30 years, would these events still be recorded? Or how would they be recorded? Today, 70 years later, the Red Army has become an interesting commemorative subject in both official and spheres, in fashion and tradition, in eyewitnesses and imaginers. Each defines the distant army in their own way, even corroborating one another. Ninety years old, eighty years old, seventy years old, sixty years old, fifty years old, forty years old, thirty years old, twenty years old, ten years old. Such a depth and cross-section of age. Like China today, tradition and modernity coexist, rich and complex, simple yet full of vitality and dynamism. Why do such diverse groups so similarly cherish a bygone era? How do they find the code for collective coexistence? On this path of survival, Mao Zedong and his troops continuously adjusted their direction, spending two years and losing over 100,000 lives to determine the end—or the beginning—of this path. It was as if described by Stefan Zweig: "The Starry Sky of Human Beings." Those stars were 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 trace the latitude and longitude of this 1930s route through the red hue of this army on the historical map, striving to return to common sense. The Red Army, 70 years later, in official and spheres, in fashion and tradition, in eyewitnesses and imaginers, has become an interesting commemorative subject. Each defines the distant army in their own way, even corroborating one another. Ninety years old, eighty years old, seventy years old, sixty years old, fifty years old, forty years old, thirty years old, twenty years old, ten years old. Such a depth and cross-section of age. Like China today, tradition and modernity coexist, rich and complex, simple yet full of vitality and dynamism. Why do such diverse groups so similarly cherish a bygone era? How do they find the code for collective coexistence? On this path of survival, Mao Zedong and his troops continuously adjusted their direction, spending two years and losing over 100,000 lives to determine the end—or the beginning—of this path. It was as if described by Stefan Zweig: "The Starry Sky of Human Beings." Those stars were 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 trace the latitude and longitude of this 1930s route through the red hue of this army on the historical map, striving to return to common sense.