Mao, however, was not about to swallow his treatment without taking a kick at Stalin. An opportunity quickly presented itself when US Secretary of State Dean Acheson made a speech at the National Press Club in Washington on 12 January, timed to coincide with Mao’s protracted stay in Moscow, accusing Russia of “detaching the northern provinces of China … and … attaching them to the Soviet Union,” with the process “complete” in Outer Mongolia, “nearly complete” in Manchuria, and under way in Inner Mongolia and Xinjiang. Stalin sent his right-hand man, Molotov, to tell Mao he must rebut the speech in the name of the Chinese Foreign Ministry, and that Mongolia and Russia would do the same. Mao agreed to do so, but instead of a rebuttal by the Foreign Ministry, he wrote a text in the name of his press chief, a relatively low-level figure. The piece referred to the Soviet satellite of Outer Mongolia, which was formally independent, in the same breath as Chinese regions, which seemed to be saying that China did not accept Russia’s de facto annexation of the territory.
The evening this article appeared in Mao’s main newspaper,
Having chastised Mao, Stalin invited him and Chou to his dacha for dinner. Stalin knew that Mao was in no position to stake a claim to Outer Mongolia, as Peking had recognized it diplomatically in October 1949. Mao’s insubordinate behavior about rebutting Acheson was an expression of resentment rather than a statement of policy (though Stalin still demanded an official exchange of notes regarding the status of Mongolia). For the drive to dinner, Stalin and Shi Zhe, Mao’s interpreter, sat on the jump seats, while Mao and Chou were given the main seats. In the car, Shi Zhe recalled, everyone was silent, and the air was like lead:
To lighten the tension, I chatted a little with Stalin, and then asked him: “Didn’t you promise to visit our delegation?”
He answered at once: “I did, and I have not abandoned this wish.”
Before he finished, Chairman Mao asked me: “What are you talking to him about? Don’t invite him to visit us.”
I immediately admitted I had indeed just been talking about this with him.
Chairman Mao said: “Take it back. No more invitation.”
… Silence again. The air was heavy, as if new lead had been poured into it. We sat like this for thirty minutes.
… The atmosphere at the dinner was also cold and bored … The Chairman remained silent, not speaking a word …
To break the ice, Stalin got up to turn on the gramophone … Although three or four men took turns trying to pull Chairman Mao onto the floor to dance, they never succeeded … The whole thing ended in bad odour …”
The two sides finally signed a new treaty on 14 February 1950. The published text was a formality. The essence of the treaty was in secret annexes. The US$300 million loan China had requested was confirmed, although it was spread over five years, and of the first year’s tranche China actually got only one-third (US$20 million), on the grounds that the rest was owed for past “purchases.” The entire loan was allocated to military purchases from Russia (in Mao’s inner circle it was referred to as “a military loan”). Half of the total loan, US$150 million, was earmarked for the navy. Stalin gave the go-ahead for fifty large-scale industrial projects — far fewer than Mao had wanted.
In return, Mao agreed that Manchuria and Xinjiang were to be designated Soviet spheres of influence, with Russia given exclusive access to their “industrial, financial, and commercial … activities.” As these two huge regions were the main areas with known rich and exploitable mineral resources, Mao was effectively signing away most of China’s tradable assets. To his inner circle he himself referred to the two provinces as “colonies.” To the Americans, decades later, he said that the Russians “grabbed half of Xinjiang. It was called a sphere of influence. And Manchukuo [