Taiwan Today

Premier Chiang Ching-kuo's diary tells of his own and the nation's deep grief in the days after the passing of President Chiang Kai-shek

April 5, 1975

I entered Father's bedroom early in the morning to ask how he was feeling. He was already up, sitting in his chair. Smiling, he asked me if I had slept well. I said that I had, and Father said he also had slept well. He remarked that this was Tombsweeping Day[1] and spoke of the centenary observance for Dr. Chang Poling.[2] Just before I left, Father said: "You must get as much rest as you can." His words gave me a strange feeling and I felt uneasy through the rest of the day.

After attending the meeting to mark Dr. Chang Poling's centenary, I went alone to Kuanyinshan[3] to pay my respects at the tombs of General Ch'en Ta-ch'ing, General Cheng Chieh-min, General Cheng T'ing-feng and General Kou Yun-sen. The road was crowded with vehicles and pedestrians, so I got out of the car and walked for more than an hour, exchanging greetings with many people along the way. From Pali[4] to Kuantu[5], I took the ferryboat. Aboard the boat I talked to my fellow passengers about small matters of family interest. Our conversations were intimate, and we felt as though we were all members of the same family. After reaching Kuantu, I drove back to Shihlin[6] to see Father again. It was a little after 4 in the afternoon. Father said he was feeling slightly indisposed. He bade me go home and rest.

At 8:30 in the evening, Father's doctor telephoned and asked me to come to Shihlin immediately. When I arrived, I learned that Father's heart was beating irregularly and that his blood pressure was falling. The situation was critical. This had happened while Father was asleep. In spite of all emergency measures taken during the next few hours, he failed to rally and finally passed away. Members of the family fell to their knees at Father's bedside, profoundly grieved and crying uncontrollably. Mother and I lost consciousness. At this very moment, a thunderstorm broke over­head and heavy rain fell. As the old saying goes, "The winds howl and the clouds darken as heaven and earth grieve" for a fallen leader. By midnight, the responsible leaders of the Party, the Government and the Armed Forces had arrived to pay their respects at Father's bedside. Father's face wore a look of perfect peace, as though he were only asleep. When, in my capacity as President of the Executive Yuan (Premier), I put my name to the last will and testament that Father had dictated March 29, 1975, my hand trembled so much that my signature was scarcely recognizable.

April 6

Shortly after 2 in the morning, I accompanied Mother in escorting Father's body to the Veterans' General Hospital. After paying our respects to Father, we returned home. The dawn was just lighting up the east. I felt a little tired. In the forenoon, I returned to the Veterans' General Hospital to view Father's body and set up an altar. After bowing to Father at the altar, I went to one of the hospital rooms for a rest. Grief-stricken though I was, I had to contain my emotions and carryon my official responsibilities. I asked Chih­-hua (Secretary-General Walter H. Fei of the Ex­ecutive Yuan) to come to the hospital to discuss the handling of current affairs of state. In my capacity as a party member holding government position, I tendered to the Central Standing Committee of the Kuomintang (Chinese Nationalist Party) my resignation from the presidency of the Executive Yuan in order to fulfill the filial duties of a son upon his Father's death. The Central Standing Committee asked me to remain in office and sent the following message of encouragement:

"The Committee hopes that you will give deep thought to the example of venerable men of ancient times in serving the country while in mourning, thus upholding the great and difficult burdens of state. Your loyalty to the State while exerting yourself to the utmost from beginning to end will inspire your fellow countrymen and express the boundless extent of your filial piety.

"My second thought was that while the Nation was faced with a crisis, there was need for every­one to do his utmost in contributing to the national cause and completing Father's great work. Suppressing my own grief, I decided to yield to the Central Standing Committee's instruction to carry on as a servant of the Party and the Nation even as I performed my duties as a filial son.

"Because of the rapidly changing international situation, I asked Chang-huan (Shen Chang-huan, minister of foreign affairs) to discuss with me in depth the various problems arising out of external affairs.”

April 7

In attending to the funeral arrangements, I asked for Mother's instructions and decided to have Father temporarily laid to rest at Tzuhu[7] pending final interment at Mt. Tzu Chin[8] in Nanking once the mainland has been recovered in fulfillment of Father's intentions.

April 8

I went to the hospital in the morning and knelt before the altar in profound and sorrowful meditation. My daughter Hsiao-chang returned from the United States to attend her grandfather's funeral. Father and daughter embraced and cried on one another's shoulders.

April 9

Another day dawned. I went to the Veterans' General Hospital and in accordance with the custom of our home place, I dressed Father in his gown and jacket and pinned his decorations on his chest. Shortly after 10 in the morning, Mother herself placed in the casket the four books Father liked best: Dr. Sun Yat-sen's Three Principles of the People[9], the Bible, Streams in the Desert[10] and An Anthology of Three Hundred Poems of the Tang Dynasty. She also placed his felt hat and walking stick in the casket. Father looked dignified and kindly, just as he had all his life. At 11 o'clock, all of the family members knelt to pay their respects to Father. Members of the government designated by the Funeral Committee also paid their respects. The procession carrying Father's casket to the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall then moved out of the grounds of the Veterans' General Hospital. Nearly one million people had gathered along the route via Tienmou, Shihlin, Yuanshan, Chungshan North Road and Jen Ai Road to pay homage to Father. Altars had been set up all along the way. Kneeling on street or ground, the people gave vent to their tearful grief. The great sincerity of this was deeply touching. The fact that Father was respected and revered by the people shows that the citizenry bears within its heart a true judgment between right and wrong. At noon, Father's casket was placed on the center of the platform in the auditorium of the Sun Yat­-sen Memorial Hall. The setting was quiet and solemn. In the evening my son Hsiao-wen, al­though indisposed, and his wife and daughter went to the Memorial Hall to pay their respects. He knelt and cried, and an intense sadness filled my heart. From this day forward, I kept vigil by the casket, spending the nights behind the altar.

April 10

From 7 in the morning, the people began to congregate at the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall to pay their respects to Father as his body lay in state. They came in wave after wave, like the tides of the sea. It was estimated that as many as 280,000 passed by the casket on the first day - men and women, young and old, crying out loudly. As they filed across the auditorium, many knelt and did not rise for a long time. Such a scene was unprecedented. Many of these people had come from faraway cities and places; all showed the agony of their deep grief. Such true sentiments, sincerely expressed, were indeed precious and wonderful to behold. There is no one else on earth who could have been revered by so many.

At 8 in the morning, I went to Tzuhu in Taoyuan county to inspect Father's temporary resting place.

At night, I got up several times to walk around Father's casket. In the stillness, I felt as though Father were sleeping peacefully. I felt that although Father would not rise again in this life, he was still living in our midst.

April 11

I knelt at Father's altar at 5:30 in the morning and then, not feeling well, I returned home for a rest. Toward evening, I went to Shihlin to see my grief-stricken Mother. As the sun went down and dusk approached, I sat alone in Father's bedroom-study, deep in thought and reminiscence. Here in this very room, father and son had had so many discussions of state affairs and other matters. Here there had been many reports on occurrences both happy and otherwise. Here, as a son, I had listened respectfully to Father's teachings and heeded his guidance. Once Father had told me: "No matter what one does, he must be true - true in the sense of 'true' in 'truehearted ness.' This is es­sential whether the matters we face are big or small." Father's words were few but deep in meaning.

Every word or deed of Father had left a lasting imprint upon my mind. There were no exceptions. Father was righteous, truthful and kindly. His expressions of sentiment and hopefulness came from the innermost reaches of his heart.

Father's love for Dr. Sun Yat-sen and our country, and his opposition to aggression and Com­munism, had not changed in fifty years. As I recalled the suffering that Father underwent and his various experiences during a lengthy illness, I was overcome by the pain of my emotions. As I left the study, the tears fell from my eyes in expression of my deep mourning.

April 12

I arose at 4 in the morning and paid my respects to Father - just as I used to inquire about his health during his lifetime. Then I went to the grounds outside the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall to express my gratitude to the tens of thousands of people who had lined up to await the opportunity of passing by Father's body. Some had come the previous night to await their turn to enter the hall and pay their last respects. I was deeply moved and started to cry again, responding to the call of someone in the crowd who urged that I take good care of myself for the sake of the country. This was a big family which had assembled here to face a common crisis.

Members of the crowd cried out loudly, voicing their heartfelt sentiment that the "Leader's spirit will never die." By now, the past manifestations of unjust public opinion abroad had reversed themselves. All the slanders and insults and misinterpretations had been swept away. May Father rest in peace! But there remains one sub­ject of regret: that the recovery of the mainland remains unfinished. Our duty from now on is to fulfill Father's noble aspirations and console his soul in heaven. Back in my room after these thoughts, I concluded that I would henceforth exert myself to the limit for the Nation and my fellow countrymen. I must unite my blood and sweat with that of my compatriots. From now on, I shall clench my fists in determination to carry out Father's will.

April 13

Late in the night, I went out into the grounds to comfort members of the crowd waiting there. Some of the people came up to embrace me, and we cried together.

Before noon, I took my daughter Hsiao-chang and her husband, Yu Yang-ho, to Tzuhu to inspect work at the country residence, which was being altered in order to house Father's casket temporarily. It gave me much satisfaction to find that my sons Hsiao-wu and Hsiao-yung were doing their best to supervise the work. I was also deeply moved by the dedication of architects, engineers and workers, who labored hard without sleep or rest.

My blood pressure was up. I did not feel so well and took a little rest.

April 14

I knelt before Father's casket at midnight and was engrossed in painful thoughts for a long time. How could I sleep at my ease, even at this hour of the night.

Today I released to the press the text of the sixteen Chinese characters Father had written dur­ing his illness. He had said: "I regard the Nation's rise or fall as my personal responsibility. I have no concern for my own life or death." This was the last of Father's manuscripts in his own handwriting and was given to me for safekeeping. Not only do these words show Father's revolution­ary spirit of selfless devotion to duty, but they also have deep significance for me as an instruction in loyalty and filial piety. Throughout his life, Father was a man of absolute integrity and unwavering determination. He could be described by the old saying: "Upright as a rock and as solid as iron." Wholeheartedly devoted to people and Nation, Father was truly the paragon of men. How fortunate am I to have been brought up by such a great father. But from now on I shall no longer receive his instructions in person. How I grieve for him! Hereafter, as a loyal official and bereaved son, I shall have to be modest in behavior and solicitous in performing my duties. I shall never forget Father's counsel to be prudent and not to engage in competition with others.

Early in the morning, I went outside once again to express appreciation to the waiting crowd.

In the evening, I again accompanied Mother in paying respects to Father. During the night, I rose several times to thank Funeral Committee members who were keeping vigil.

The people coming to pay their respects to Father are increasing in numbers day by day. It was decided to open the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall to the public 24 hours a day.

April 15

I bowed to Father at the altar early in the morning, then returned home for a brief rest. I started to go through Father's letters. Among these was one that Father had written me while I was in Kinmen (Quemoy). He told me to get more rest while I was there, because I had just been ill, and made a point of telling me not to rush back to Taipei for the funeral of the late General T'ang En-po's mother[11] because he himself would attend. Father did go to the funeral parlor to pay his last respects to General T'ang's mother. I could not but be impressed with Father's sincerity and kind­ness in remembering those who had served under him. As I reread this letter, the tears came into my eyes and I was unable to continue sorting the letters.

Toward evening, I again accompanied Mother in paying our respects to Father. Mother's grief was profound and she sobbed repeatedly. I sought to comfort her and urged that she take care of her health, as Father would have wished.

Later I took a stroll through the garden. The sun was just setting. Suddenly the western sky was lighted up by the splendor of mingled white and multi-hued clouds. The brightness slowly turned into a dim glow and dusk.

It was hard to fall asleep that night.

April 16

This was the appointed day for moving Father's body to the temporary resting place at Tzuhu. I accompanied Mother to the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall in the early morning. The state funeral rites began at 8 :05 as the family gathered around the casket, crying openly. It was my duty to close the casket. Christian funeral services began at 8:30. Special envoys and delegations from many nations attended. The atmosphere was solemn and sorrowful.

The funeral procession to Tzuhu left the Memorial Hall at 9 :30. More than two million people seeking to pay their last respects to Father lined the 38-mile route through Taipei City, across the Chung Hsing Bridge, along the North-South Freeway and through Taoyuan and Tachi before reaching Tzuhu. Lined up on both sides of the roadway, some of the people wore tradi­tional Chinese mourning dress. Many knelt on the ground for as long as three or four hours. Peo­ple were sobbing out their grief. To see and hear them only deepened my own sorrow.

When the procession reached the Tzuhu residence, Father's casket was placed in the black granite sarcophagus in the center of the main hall. After paying my respects before the altar in accordance with the traditional Chinese rites, I was overcome with grief and fainted. The doctors gave me emergency treatment, but I did not fully revive until some hours later. By then it was nearly dusk. Most people had left and the house was nearly empty. I spent the night beside Father's sarcophagus but could not sleep. At midnight I arose and sat in the hall for a long time, overcome by feelings of emptiness and loneliness. Then I recalled the moving scene of the people mourning along the route of the procession the day before. Suddenly I felt incomprehensible strength flowing in upon me from every direction. I became wholly convinced that this strength was the guarantee of the people's support for the government in its great task of recovering the mainland from the Communists. The current situation might be immensely difficult, but the Nation's future was replete with greatness and promise.

April 17

Today I made this statement: "Following my Father's death, the people paid him tearful respect and expressed their sorrow in the streets and the countryside. The affection and sincerity of their grief have been deeply touching. In my sudden bereavement and extreme grief, I am unable to thank each individual personally. I can only carry out my Father's last testament and do my very best in attending to official duties so as to show my appreciation for the people's sincerity and kindness. "

In separate appointments, I met with Vice President Nelson Rockefeller of the United States, President Tran Van Lam of the Senate of the Re­public of Vietnam, Premier Kim Jong Pil of the Republic of Korea and former Premier Eisaku Sato of Japan.

In the forenoon, I accompanied Mother in receiving at Shihlin the special envoys and delega­tions of the various countries represented at the services and expressed our appreciation. I also attended a family memorial service at the Kai Ko Chapel[12].

In the evening, my daughter Hsiao-chang left for the United States. Our parting at this moment of grief was heartrending. I was more sorrowful than ever.

April 18

As I kept vigil beside Father's sarcophagus at Tzuhu, I was reminded of all that happened in the years when I was in Father's company during our brief visits to this very house. Father seemed very much alive and was there in the room together with me. Recalling the events of the past, tears came again - from where I do not know - and coursed down my cheeks.

These days of mourning have provided a time for me to reflect on the past and rediscover myself. Getting up at midnight, I would sometimes sit in the hall and sometimes pace back and forth in front of the house. I felt that I had not been as filial as I should have been. Now I was deprived of opportunity to redeem myself. In the morning and at dusk, I invariably sat on the veranda on the east side of the house. This was a place that Father had liked best of all because of its serenity. Father and I had often talked of family matters here. We had greatly enjoyed our father-and-son relationship. There were two chairs on the porch. At the moment I was sitting in the chair on the left. The chair on the right where Father used to sit was empty. Looking at that vacant chair, I suddenly felt sad and very lonely. I looked toward the azaleas, the green bamboos and the blue pines of the garden - their colors glistening in a striking contrast. I heard the murmur of the flowing springs of the mountainside and gazed up to blue sky and white clouds. My heart was full of grief that Father's personal affection had been so easy to lose and was now so impossible to regain. I was deeply stirred again as I carefully read over several of Father's letters, most of them concerned with instructions for government plan­ning and details of policy implementation.

I walked along the corridor after supper and felt as though Father were walking in front of me and also following just behind.

April 19

Yesterday was the so-called "Second Seventh Day”[13] according to the old custom of our family. Father had been gone for exactly half a month. My life during this period had been a nightmare.

No words could adequately describe my sorrow, nor measure the severity of the pain still within my wounded heart.

I recalled in detail Father's funeral procession. Men and women both young and old had shown the depths of their feelings at the loss of their Chief of State; it was as though they had lost one of their own parents. It seemed to me that such a thing had never occurred before in ancient or modem times, either at home or abroad. If Father could have seen this manifestation of love and respect, he would surely have been greatly consoled. I resolved that I should henceforth make even greater efforts to serve the Party and the Nation, thus living up to the expectations of my compatriots and comforting my Father's soul in heaven.

Major General Richard G. Ciccolella, ret., an American friend, came to China specially to mourn Father's death. I was deeply appreciative and invited him to Tzuhu. We drove together to Chiao Pan Shan[14]. I Sitting on a terrace planted to plum trees, we talked of old times. At such a moment of sadness and tragedy, I felt the value of the friendship demonstrated by General Ciccolella and so many other American friends. From the terrace we could look toward a vista of verdant terraced fields, green mountains and blue waters. Heavily laden rice stalks stood in the fields. I felt a little relief from the sorrows of the past two weeks.

That night I rose three times to walk beside Father's sarcophagus. I wanted to call out to Father. But there was no longer a voice to respond with kindness as when Father was still alive. I could only pray to heaven that Father would be protected and allowed to rest quietly and in peace.

April 20

I bowed before Father's sarcophagus early in the morning, as though to inquire after his health - just as I had been accustomed to doing each day of his lifetime.

During Father's illness and subsequent convalescence of more than two years, I waited on him day and night at the Veterans' General Hospital or at the Shihlin residence, except at such times as I had to be at work or was away. I recalled how eagerly Father had waited for me to return so that we could have our meals together. At other times, when I went to bid him goodbye before leaving the city on official business, he would say: "Go quickly and come back quickly." Such memories were painful.

I was 11 years old when I experienced the first death in our family. Father tended Grandmother in her last illness. She died in Father's arms and he cried for days. Grandmother was always engaged in charitable activities and played a leading role in such beneficial community undertakings as the building of bridges and the repairing of roads. She knew how to rear her son and she loved her grandson dearly. She was also strict about enforcing family discipline. I recall my sadness at Grandmother's death. But I was too young to feel the depths of grief that have been brought upon me with Father's passing.

This afternoon, I conferred with the minister of justice, Mr. Wang Jen-yuan. As a memorial to Father - to mark his boundless benevolence and to support the principle that all men are born virtu­ous - I asked Minister Wang to explore the pos­sibility of commuting prison terms. I hoped that he could make legal proposals to give prison inmates that opportunity to reform themselves and start life anew together with their families - their hardships at an end. Minister Wang agreed to submit his report to President Yen Chia-kan and to implement whatever measures were approved as quickly as possible so as to carry out Father's wish that prisoners should be treated with benevolence and compassion.

April 21

It was late at night. Sitting in the hall, I recalled that Father was always kind to me but that he was also very strict. In showing his affection or giving me instruction, he would never overlook the smallest detail.

I recalled especially the period when we were leaving the mainland 25 years ago. I was with Father day and night. Together we faced all dangers and came through all ordeals. Together we were targets of insults and slanderous attacks. Father was completely dedicated to saving the Nation from the Communists. Single-mindedly, he went about the tasks of averting the national crisis and ignored all vilifications. Although the work of National Revolution is yet to be brought to consummation, Father has, alas, already left us! Father and I departed the mainland together. Now I have become an orphan! I still remember what Father had to say in Tzu An Chi, an article he wrote in memory of Grandmother: "The Buddhist prayers in the hall and the kindly voice In the courtyard are no longer to be heard!" From this, Father's sorrow at the loss of his Mother can be fully appreciated. Now that I have lost Father, I am as deeply grieved as he was then. What sadness!

I asked Shu-kai (Mr. Chou Shu-kai, minister without portfolio) to take a drive with me on the Northern Cross-Island Highway. This is a road of beautiful scenery. I recalled that Father once sat by a pond situated on the divide between Taoyuan and Ilan counties and said: "This is a beautiful place. It's too bad that there is no time for me to enjoy life here. Otherwise we could build a cottage and live here together. How happy we would be!" This time I arose after sitting for only a short while. I dared not to reminisce longer.

Back at Tzuhu, I rose at midnight. Feeling chilly, I put on some warmer clothes. I stood in front of the hall and looked up at the new moon. I had the deep-laid feeling that this was a moment of tranquility in my time of grief. I read Spring in the Valley[15] to assuage my sorrow.

In recent days I have agonizingly recalled many things from the past. Father once said that he had always lived "a life of hardship" but did not regard it as suffering. The suffering that I have been enduring is as nothing compared with that of Father.

April 22

Great changes occurred in the world situation just after Father's death. The Asian situation deteriorated suddenly. The anti-Communist front on the Indochina peninsula collapsed. The threat of renewed war on the Korean peninsula is increasing with each day. This is truly a case of "the teeth becoming cold when the lips are gone." If the free world had paid attention to Father's predictions and heeded his counsel, there would have been no such crises. It was in this way that our mainland was lost. Now there is a debacle in Southeast Asia. Who should be held responsible for the loss of tens of millions of Asian lives and the loss of freedom by hundreds of millions of Asian people? The responsibility for the changes must rest either with the mistaken policy of blind people riding blind horses or be attributed to the treacherous manipulations of the Communists. But as Father taught us, the irrefutable truth is that freedom and democracy will never perish from the earth and that the Communists will never achieve final success. We must not be frustrated and must not relax our vigilance in face of the deteriorating situation. Whenever dangers encircled the Nation, Father always admonished us to be "self-reliant in all our endeavors." Today we stand on principle and have organization, strength and the support of the people. So long as we remain firm, adhere to principle and exert ourselves to the utmost, we have nothing to worry about and nothing to fear.

High ranking officers of the Armed Forces came to Tzuhu to pay their respects to Father. They are all my good friends, and we had a long talk together, consoling and encouraging one another. The rapid changes in the world situation do not permit us to tarry and hesitate. It is imperative that we augment our military preparedness immediately. We swore an oath of mutual trust and determination to do our very best to fulfill Father's wishes.

April 23

My grief at Father's passing grows daily more intense. Why was I so fortunate to have such a great father and then so unfortunate as to be deprived of him at this time of great difficulty? With the future so uncertain, where am I to seek guid­ance? To whom can I pour out my sufferings? I used to speak of "a burden of a thousand catties pressing down upon my shoulders." I do not know how many catties have now been added. At night, I dreamed that poisonous snakes were pursu­ing me, their tongues darting. A barbed-wire fence barred escape. This seemed to be a dream of much significance. After waking from the dream, I could not get back to sleep and found that my mind was full of mixed feelings. The meaning of human life is to struggle so as to eliminate the forces of evil and open up a bright future.

Hereafter, I must follow in the footsteps of the veteran senior Party members and cooperate sincerely with beloved compatriots and all my fellow members of the Party. Together, we shall save the country in this moment of crisis and destroy the rampant Communists. I shall take special means to inspire myself in order to struggle ahead with determination without regard to personal success or failure, or to life or death. Given such conviction and resolve, what enemy could we not destroy? What goal could we not attain?

Looking at the quiet, mirror-smooth surface of Tzuhu lake, I recalled the time years ago when Father took me boating on Cheng Ching lake[16] at Kaohsiung. It was the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival[17]. Observing the moon reflected in the ripples of the water's surface, Father remarked: "This scenery is known as the Autumn moon shining on the smooth lake." I could remember this vividly despite the passage of many years. How happy I would be if I could go boating with Father on this lake tonight. But humankind does not have the power to reverse an accomplished fact. Passing time and recorded fact are relentless. Come what may, all of the consequences are mine to bear.

April 24

I arose before daybreak, feeling sad, depressed and tired. A life of seclusion is quiet. But there was no time in which I did not have to put my mind on matters of state. Although in mourning, I had to discharge my responsibilities and dared not be negligent. I was especially concerned about how we could help assure the livelihood of overseas Chinese returning from Cambodia and South Vietnam and of overseas Chinese from these countries studying in Taiwan. The government ought to extend assistance to them.

Conditions of great chaos and upheaval are found throughout the world. Father's death is the worst possible national disaster. Perhaps the pen­dulum will now swing toward the better. After the worst, the better must surely be on the way. If we follow Father's instructions, we can take advantage of new situations, create new opportunities and turn the situation from bad to good. First of all, however, we must ensure our continued existence and stability so that we shall have room to maneuver. The great tragedy of Southeast Asia's communization has now occurred. Other tragedies may follow. But results are determined by our own efforts. The day is bound to come when the Great Commonwealth of the Three Prin­ciples of the People will come into existence. Freedom-loving men can never perish. Unfortunately, the selfishness and shamelessness of certain poli­ticians ordain further suffering for humankind. The history of mankind is full of twists and turns. If we can summon our courage and dedication and march forward earnestly and eagerly, we shall surely overcome all difficulties and achieve the ultimate victory.

(To be continued)