Meanwhile, European acupuncturists continued to publish articles reporting positive results, such as one that appeared in the
Then, from around 1840, just when it seemed that acupuncture was going to establish itself within mainstream Western medicine, the wealthy elite adopted new medical fads and the number of acupuncturists dwindled. European rejection of the practice was mainly linked to disputes such as the First and Second Opium Wars between Britain and China, which led to a contempt for China and its traditions — acupuncture was no longer perceived as a potent therapy from the mysterious East, but instead it was considered a sinister ritual from the evil Orient. Meanwhile, acupuncture was also in decline back in China. The Daoguang Emperor (1782–1850) felt it was a barrier to medical progress and removed it from the curriculum of the Imperial Medical Institute.
By the start of the twentieth century, acupuncture was extinct in the West and dormant in the East. It might have fallen out of favour permanently, but it suddenly experienced a revival in 1949 as a direct result of the communist revolution and the establishment of the People’s Republic of China. Chairman Mao Tse-tung engineered a resurgence in traditional Chinese medicine, which included not just acupuncture, but also Chinese herbal medicine and other therapies. His motivation was partly ideological, inasmuch as he wanted to reinforce a sense of national pride in Chinese medicine. However, he was also driven by necessity. He had promised to deliver affordable healthcare in both urban and rural regions, which was only achievable via the network of traditional healers, the so-called ‘barefoot doctors’. Mao did not care whether traditional Chinese medicine worked, as long as he could keep the masses contented. In fact, his personal physician, Zhisui Li, wrote a memoir entitled
Because of China’s isolation, its renewed interest in acupuncture went largely unnoticed in the West — a situation which changed only when plans were being made for President Nixon’s historic trip to China in 1972. This was the first time that an American President had visited the People’s Republic of China, so it was preceded by a preparatory visit by Henry Kissinger in July 1971. Even Kissinger’s visit was a major event, so he was accompanied by a cohort of journalists, which included a reporter called James Reston. Unfortunately for Reston, soon after arriving in China he was struck by a stabbing pain in his groin. He later recalled how his condition deteriorated during the day: ‘By evening I had a temperature of 103 degrees and in my delirium I could see Mr. Kissinger floating across my bedroom ceiling grinning at me out of the corner of a hooded rickshaw.’
It soon became obvious that he had appendicitis, so Reston was urgently admitted to the Anti-Imperialist Hospital for a standard surgical procedure. The operation went smoothly, but two nights later Reston began to suffer severe abdominal pains which were treated with acupuncture. He was cared for by Dr Li Chang-yuan, who had not been to medical college, but who instead had served an apprenticeship with a veteran acupuncturist. He told Reston that he had learned much of his craft by practising on himself: ‘It is better to wound yourself a thousand times than to do a single harm to another person.’
James Reston found the treatment to be both shocking and effective in equal measure, and he wrote up his experience in an article published in the