Document created: 04 May 2004
Air University Review,
July-August 1971
The problem of power is the fundamental problem of our time and probably will remain so in the future. Quarrels among Communist nations are normally ideological disputes, jarringly embroiled with the unavoidable issues of power and policy. In this context, the Sino-Soviet rift is no exception, notwithstanding the fact that many analysts are not in agreement as to what constituted the actual causes of the dispute.
While China and the Soviet Union are sovereign Communist nations, they embrace different cultures, histories, goals, and traditions. Other crucial elements relative to the rift concern the choice of the correct policy toward movements of “national liberation”; the risks and consequences of nuclear war; who shall lead the Communist forces in world politics; and the differing appraisals of the present balance of strategic power in the world.1 Such an array of irritants and issues naturally tends to revive disputes that were dormant, moribund, or just forgotten. Not the least of these problems has been the one associated with territorial differences, largely stemming from old treaty settlements accomplished when China was in no position to question them simply because she had not the power to question them.
Border problems have plagued Sino-Russian and Sino-Soviet relations for several hundred years. In the mid-nineteenth century Russia, taking advantage of a powerless China (as did several European powers), annexed the territory north of the Amur River and east of its tributary, the Ussuri, founded Vladivostok, and cut off China from the Sea of Japan. The loss of this huge area was accepted by China in the Treaties of Aigun (1858) and Peking (1860).2 It is reasonable to surmise that with such a background, the momentum of history has thrust these compelling disturbances into the forefront of contemporary Sino-Soviet relations. Both sides admit that border incidents have occurred with increasing frequency, at least since 1960. In fact, Russian-Chinese contacts along that border began to constitute a significant problem by 1967. In January of that year, there were reports of a clash along the Ussuri in which the Soviets accused the Chinese of wildly provocative behavior in connection with the excesses of the Cultural Revolution. Border guards reported incidents on 23 December 1967 and in late January 1968, along both the Ussuri and the Amur.
The Chinese complaints of Soviet border violations do not have such depth as the Soviet charges. The Chinese claimed that from 23 January 1967 until 2 March 1969 Soviet troops intruded into Damansky sixteen times, using “helicopters, armored cars and vehicles.” The Chinese further assert that the Soviets were guilty of “ramming Chinese fishing boats, robbing Chinese fishermen, turning high-pressure hoses on fishermen, assaulting and wounding Chinese frontier guards, seizing arms and ammunition, and even violating Chinese air space by overflights.”3 Finally, the Chinese charged that the Soviets provoked a total of 4189 border incidents from the breakdown of border negotiations on 15 October 1964 to the March 1969 incident. Thus, there was an increasing degree of border tension and dispute beginning with the January phase of the Cultural Revolution and extending to the end of that period of Chinese history, 1966-68.
In reality, the problem of the Sino-Soviet border has been raised on a sustained basis throughout the period of Communist rule in China, even to the inclusion of a mutual declaration on territorial integrity in the 1950 Sino-Soviet treaty. Along with this treaty declaration, the two powers coevally signed agreements concerning commercial interactions and use by the Soviet navy of bases in Port Arthur and Dairen. These instruments were modified in 1952, however, to permit proprietary Chinese interests, and the naval bases were returned in 1954 at the time of Khrushchev’s visit to China. During that visit Mao himself brought up the question of Outer Mongolia with Khrushchev. Although the Russians refused to discuss the matter, this represents the earliest known Chinese initiative directly connected with a border revision.
Specifically, the territorial aspect of the Sin-Soviet dispute was inaugurated at the end of 1962 by Khrushchev, who, in responding to Chinese strictures about the Cuban gambit, derided the Chinese for permitting such “fragments of colonialism as Hong Kong and Macao” to survive on their soil. This attack afforded the Chinese an undeniable opportunity, and they promptly termed the border treaties signed between tsarist Russia and Ch’ing dynasty China as “unequal” and therefore subject to revision. The Chinese statement, published 8 March 1963, concluded with the well-known interrogation: “In raising questions of this kind, do you intend to raise all the questions of unequal treaties and have a general settlement? Has it ever entered your heads what the consequences will be?” It was after this date that public reports and charges of border violations were made and secret border negotiations initiated.4
Events could have resulted in outright military action had the polemics continued; however, history intervened with the removal of Khrushchev in October 1964. There followed a quiescent period of some two years, which, in large measure, lasted until the Cultural Revolution.
The border negotiations began on 25 February 1964. The Soviet side was represented by P. I. Zyryanov, and the Chinese delegate was Tseng Yung-chuan, both Deputy Ministers of Foreign Affairs. Some progress was achieved, but in late October the Soviets recommended that the talks be moved to Moscow, at which point the Chinese apparently balked. No response was ever given to the Soviet suggestion, and nothing eventuated until the two disputants met again on 18 June 1969 at Khabarovsk.
Even though this initial attempt failed, it is interesting to speculate what were the probable causes as there appear to be at least two points on which the two sides concurred. First, both parties were substantially in agreement on the absolute necessity of a new, meaningful border treaty. Second, both tacitly agreed that the actual amount of adjustment necessary to realign the border to mutual satisfaction was slight. Conversely, there were two disagreements. First, and by far the most compelling, were the vital differences in procedures advocated. The Chinese had a pathological fixation which demanded Soviet admission of the old treaties’ unequal aspects prior to signing any new treaty. But the Soviets refused to submit to such a request; thus, an impasse ensued.
In retrospect, it appears that those points of agreement appreciably exceeded those of disagreement; but the treaty negotiations probably failed through lack of procedural agreement or real desire on the part of the participants. It is also quite within the realm of possibility that China, smarting from a sustained disparity of power vis-a-vis the Soviet Union and attempting ideologically to project a power advantage since 1964, did not, in truth, want a settlement at that point in time, for a settlement would have terminated a useful gambit. As long as China could aggressively act with some degree of military impunity, and assessing that she had time on her side, it is reasonable to surmise that the Chinese broke off the talks when it appeared that the Soviets would not relinquish on all points or that the talks were about to enter a stage of definitive settlement.
Some note should be taken of the relative military dispositions along the border at this time; however, as can be expected, precise information is questionable. For some time the Chinese had stationed around fourteen infantry divisions in the northeast, five divisions in Inner Mongolia, and five more in Sinkiang.5 They supplemented these troops with “construction” personnel, so that in areas contiguous to the border there were approximately 35 to 40 divisions, or some 450,000 men.
On the other hand, the Soviets were aware that the Far East is by no stretch of the imagination “next door” to the Russian heartland, and this fact, plus overwhelming strategic superiority, disposed them to maintain only eight Red Army divisions between the Urals and Lake Baikal. (Another 26 divisions were available in southern U.S.S.R.) Thus, it would appear that the Chinese had an edge in manpower; however, the Soviet logistical and transportation postures were far superior. The Soviets also had been building airfields close to the border; consequently, they harbored an edge in terms of equipment superiority, i.e., aircraft, armor and artillery, and their tactical mobility demonstrably exceeded that of the Chinese.6
As previously pointed out, border disputes began as far back as 1959 and inexorably increased to the extent that some sort of overt military buildup was justified by both powers; but this is not precisely the case. In 1966 both sides did initiate modernization programs, and of the two the Soviets had the more active. The Vietnam war and the massive American intervention undoubtedly drew Chinese attention, at least momentarily, to their southern exposure; therefore, they could not hope to keep pace with the Soviet program.
For the Soviets, 1967 ushered in some changes in policy and tactics, for it was in that year, apparently, that the border incidents assumed a more menacing aspect. The Soviets began a program of indoctrinating their citizens which included reports from inspection trips made in the border zones of contention. A major feature of the preparedness campaign was the signing of a 20-year defense pact with Mongolia and the stationing of Soviet troops on Mongolian soil. By 1968 the Soviets actually accomplished fairly large-scale maneuvers in the Mongolian area, and several bases were constructed.
Six assessments emerge from the foregoing data. First, a general balance of military forces existed in the border regions for a long time. Second, the balance assumed a more aggressive stance in 1966 with the introduction of modernization programs. Third, the Chinese appeared to actively engage in an ideological power struggle with the Soviets, the border disputes serving as a prime vehicle. Fourth, the general military balance was disturbed after 1966 by the movement of Soviet troops onto Mongolian soil. Fifth, increased military activity by both factions, plus the attendant excesses of the Cultural Revolution, served as a fillip to border tensions. Sixth, the Soviets undertook a domestic indoctrination program anent the border problem and entered into a defense pact with Mongolia. The amalgamation of these incidents and the disruptive and highly volatile excesses of the Cultural Revolution, in conjunction with the Soviet activities along the border, certainly must have induced in the Chinese marked anxiety as to future Soviet projections of power.
Damansky Island is located in the Ussuri River, which forms the boundary between the Soviet Union and China for approximately 180 miles southward from Khabarovsk. The nearest Soviet settlement is Nizhne Mikhailovskiy, about five miles to the south, whereas the closest point of Chinese population is Kung-szu at the southern extremity of the island. Apparently the Soviets supported two border outposts within the general area, one south of the island, commanded by Senior Lieutenant Ivan Ivanovich Strelnikov, and the other, to the north, by Senior Lieutenant Vitaliy Dmitriyevich Bubenin. The solitary Chinese outpost was situated directly across the island at about its mid point. With this in mind, the following appears to be a reasonable account of what took place on the Ussuri River on 2 March 1969.
Under cover of the wintry night of 1-2 March, approximately 300 Chinese soldiers, camouflaged in white uniforms, crossed the Ussuri River to Damansky Island and established a bivouac area for the night. Early the next morning, the Soviet guard on duty at Lieutenant Strelnikov’s outpost noticed some 20 to 30 armed Chinese moving towards the Soviet side, shouting Mao slogans as they approached. Strelnikov and some of his men set off to meet the Chinese. Arriving on the island, they went forward to confront the approaching Chinese.
The Soviets strapped their automatic rifles to their chests and linked arms to prevent the Chinese from passing. The Chinese positioned themselves in rows and gave the appearance of being unarmed. When they had approached within about twenty feet of the Soviet soldiers, the first row stepped aside and a second row pulled out submachine guns from under their coats and opened fire on the Soviets. Strelnikov and six of his men were killed outright. At the same time, from an ambush on the Soviet flank, the Chinese let loose an enfilade which obviously caught the Soviet unit by surprise. Mortar and machine-gun fire joined in, and then the Chinese apparently charged with hand-to-hand fighting resulting. Under such an onslaught, the Soviet unit was overrun, and according to Soviet figures the Chinese killed nineteen men on the spot.
Lieutenant Bubenin had witnessed the battle from his outpost, and with his men he raced to the scene. He forced the Chinese to divide their fire, but in the process he was also wounded. A wild melee ensued, and when the confusion had died down the Soviets eventually forced the last group of 50 to 60 Chinese to retreat to their side of the river. The battle lasted some two hours, and both sides claimed victory.
There appear to be sufficient facts which, when collated and considered with other data, tend to concentrate the causes into three finite spheres: the incidents attendant to the border confrontations; the basic national postures endemic to both countries; and the possibilities emerging from the foreign policies of the two nations.
Perhaps two situational contingencies surface. The first lies in a simplistic assessment that both sides had been invested with an inordinate amount of unit authority in dealing with border disputes. It would appear prudent that Soviet border commanders of the remote outpost, which was continually confronted with a highly volatile situation, did have a good deal of authority over local events. The Chinese situation is obscured by less precise knowledge concerning the delegation of authority and by the presence of border construction troops. Certainly, in view of the history of border incidents, some rather definite procedures and limits had been previously established.
The second contingency lies in the possibility that spontaneity or simple chance sparked the fire fight; however, this appears to belabor the point. Careful preparations were made for the confrontation, the Chinese heavily outnumbered the Soviets, and the Chinese apparently resorted to deceit prior to triggering the incident.
To explain the incident in light of Chinese national politics, four possibilities present themselves: a prime issue to heal the wounds incurred by the Cultural Revolution; dissidence; diversion; and the Ninth Chinese Communist Congress.
As a possible mollifier to the Cultural Revolution, the incident appears far too ephermeral to justify the risks associated with its preparation.
Dissidence in Communist China during the latter stages of the Cultural Revolution might be a possible explanation, as that aberration was grounded in disparate groups competing for power. By the end of that cultural convulsion, the majority of these groups had been eliminated, and the military emerged as the most dominant and cohesive group. But a note is interjected here: whenever China considered herself in danger of external threat, perceptible signs of debate appeared in open publications. Regarding the Sino-Soviet border difficulties, however, no such manifestations appeared.7
There is a possibility that Maoist leadership elements manipulated the 2 March incident as a diversionary ploy to create anxiety, in the hope that greater cohesiveness would redound. Immediately after the Twelfth Plenum, domestic programs were initiated which corporately could have elevated tension and strife.
These actions probably had something to do also with the continued postponement of the Ninth Congress, which was to impart the stamp of approval and steer the nation through its rough political and economic seas.
There are perhaps four Chinese foreign policy extrapolations that have a bearing on the 2 March incident. First, it is possible that Chinese leaders were aware of a Soviet military buildup along the border and feared that this preparedness presaged a more ominous move; thus, the gauntlet had to be flung down. It can only be assumed that the Chinese took a calculated gamble, or they possessed information which assured them that the Soviets would not retaliate to the extreme.
Second, it is conceivable that the Chinese actually resorted to a pre-emptive attack and rationalized it by virtue of the Soviet buildup and the fact that the attack would be at the extreme end of the Soviet lines of communication.
Perhaps a third explanation lies in a revisionist theory: that the Chinese were actually under the undeniable control of Mao Tse-tung during the Cultural Revolution and the Ussuri incident was but a manifestation of his hatred towards the more despised “revisionist enemy.”
Finally, the Ussuri incident was a specific manifestation of Chinese power politics designed to embarrass the Soviets. The year 1968 had witnessed marked deterioration in Sino-Soviet relations, and the Chinese were adamant about opposing Soviet hegemony. Examples range from support of the Czech people against Soviet aggression to bottlenecks in Soviet supplies for North Vietnam and renunciation of most direct and indirect participation in that war.8
The question of timing is important, for the Chinese obtained a victory not only on the Ussuri but in Berlin as well. There, the West Germans were to hold an election, which the Soviets and East Germans had denounced as illegal. Resultant propaganda and other disruptive measures clearly indicated that both Communist regimes had committed their prestige and resources to exert pressure on West Berlin and West Germany to force movement of the election to another site. But on 2 March 1969, the date of the Ussuri incident, all the threats, military shows of force, border blockades, and other actions against the election suddenly ceased, and the news media no longer reflected a threatening attitude.9 Only a serious external threat could have compelled the Soviets to abandon such a carefully prepared campaign, and they certainly construed the Ussuri incident to be far more than just a border incident. At any rate, the major extension of Soviet foreign policy at that point in time ceased—militarily, economically, politically and propagandistically—in order to confront the new crisis.
The general tenor of Soviet national politics during this time span was relatively stable and rational—quite dissimilar from that in China. It is possible (and probable) that a spectrum of opinions existed between the military leaders and their political peers in the Communist Party as to what should be the proper policy towards the border problem. Other than utterances normally associated with strategy, weaponry, and preparedness, however, there were no specific promulgations in Soviet literature which could be connected with the Ussuri incident.
In the area of Soviet foreign policy, a number of factors come into play. The Soviets undoubtedly did not wish a major confrontation with the Chinese on the Ussuri River. In fact, they had their hands furl with the aftermath of the Czechoslovakian crisis, they were deeply involved with client states in the Middle East, they were preparing for the SALT talks, and they were deeply interested in the impending election of the West German president.
There is another consideration in the assumption that it was the Soviets who actually initiated the incident on the Ussuri on a more or less pre-emptive basis. But this possibility has small credence.
Finally, there is the possibility that the Soviets, like the Chinese, decided that events had gone far enough but for purposes of world opinion the Chinese were permitted the first move. While such an explanation would be in accord with Soviet preparedness moves, it does not jibe with all aspects of national politics and foreign policy. However, the Soviet Union is quite capable of masking or distorting foreign policy.
Several conclusions can be drawn concerning the Ussuri River border dispute. First, the Soviets and the Chinese are in agreement that the conflict, which first erupted some ten years ago, did not stem from their having a common frontier; however, just three years later, the border issue became a major factor in the developing schism. Second, although there is, in actuality, little to be resolved over the border treaties, the Chinese have refused to yield, both in 1964 and at the present negotiations. Third, the deadlock is not a pristine ideological dispute (as is often asserted), nor is it a simple case of rival interests clashing; it is a grinding fusion of both. It is a classic example of power politics between two leading world powers, with the primary prize residing in control of the international Communist movement. Communists believe in causes, whereas theories are simply factors to advance them: where the cause compels, the theories must change.
In reality, the 2 March event assumes a greater role than just a border incident. Both disputants originally endeavored to hold negotiations to resolve it.10 Neither faction had any concrete advantages to be extracted, as evidenced by the fact that both sides began the talks by disagreeing as to what they were meant to be talking about.
But the motives of the Chinese Communists seem reasonably clear when one remembers their predominant and overriding charge: that the Soviets have betrayed the revolution and are not qualified to lead the international movement. This is an ideological claim, a power claim; but it is the Soviets who have the power and who are, in essence, leading the movement. Consequently, Communists the world over were at the bidding of Soviet “renegades,” and the Chinese Communists were compelled to redress that imbalance as best they could.
Although it is arguable that the information presented is circumstantial in portraying the Ussuri incident as a means of forcing a Soviet retreat from a projected position in Europe, it is more reasonable and credible in depicting that incident as a device to undermine Soviet leadership of the Communist bloc as well as the international movement. The attack offered substantial gain at minimal risk, as Soviet worldwide commitments would not permit anything but a modest and face-saving reaction.
The indisputable fact remains that the Sino-Soviet argument is not a simple rift involving two sovereign states. The struggle is grounded in the situation of an inferior nation dealing with a “superpower” and in fierce competition for the support and allegiance of the multifaceted components that comprise the international Communist movement. In such a struggle, the motives of power, prestige, and ideology merge and tend to blend with the charisma associated with Mao, who, in turn, is the leading exponent of Communism as the “wave of the future.” Such a momentous force must be controlled by pristine Chinese Communists; thus, power and ideology, coalesce to result in the pinnacle of Communist commands and goals: he who controls the movement also controls history.
As for the Soviets, they are on the horns of a real dilemma. Gone are the days when a Communist Party could survive or thrive only if it were a satellite subservient Moscow. The crushing paradox is that more effective a Communist Party becomes as a political force, the less dependent it comes upon Moscow—and the less useful malleable it becomes as an instrument of Soviet policy. The Soviets can impose their control and thereby weaken the political or electoral chances of the party in their own country, or they can give free rein and thereby lose an instrument of Soviet policy outside Soviet borders. In short, they can accede to the Chinese demands or resort to military power. The option they choose will be dictated by power—Soviet or Chinese. In that light, we should recall how the article began: The problem of power is the fundamental problem of our time and will remain the basic problem of all future history.
Annandale, Virginia
Notes
1. “The Chinese-Communist Rift: Origins and Portents,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 42, No. 1 (October 1963), pp. 15-l7.
2. W. A. Douglas Jackson, The Russo-Chinese Borderlands (Princeton: Van Nostrand, 1962), p. 113.
3. “Note of the University of Foreign Affairs of the People’s Republic of China,” New China News Agency, 3 March 1969, Jen-min Jin-pao, 4 March 1969, p. 1. (Translation, Survey of China Mainland Press, No. 4372, 10 March 1969, pp. 19-20.)
4. Dennis J. Doolin, Territorial Claims in the Sino-Soviet Conflict (Stanford: Hoover Institution, 1965), p. 31 ff. Mao Tse-tung also is on record as having made a famous statement concerning these treaties and the resultant irredenta: “About a hundred years ago, the area to the east of Baikal became Russian territory, and since then Vladivostok, Khabarovsk, Kamchatka, and other areas have been Soviet territory. We have not yet prevented our account for this list.”
5. The Military Balance, Institute for Strategic Studies, London, 1965-1970.
6. Ibid. Soviet modernization programs for their border garrisons exceeded in quality those implemented by the Chinese—undoubtedly due to the latter’s inferior logistical base and earlier withdrawal of Soviet aid.
7. A search of appropriate CDSP (Current Digest Soviet Press) journals could identify no debate on the subject.
8. China Quarterly, No. 25, January-March 1966, pp. 48-58, 66-76, 106-14.
9. Press coverage from 28 February to 8 March included 22 articles in Pravada and 20 in Izvestia.
10. Major General Aleks Anikushin, “USSR Borders Are Inviolable,” Sovetskaja Rossia, 19 March 1969, p. 3; and CDSP, XXI, 12 (9 April 1969), 3.
Contributor
Colonel Donald M. Marks (M.A., Indiana University) is with the Studies, Analysis and Gaming Agency, Joint Chiefs of Staff. He served in intelligence with Hq USAFE, Germany; later as a T-33 flight commander, Webb AFB, Texas; then as Assistant Air Attaché, Yugoslavia. He has also been Chief, Standardization/Evaluation Division, Hq Air Training Command; war plans officer, Hq Seventh Air Force, Vietnam; and Air Force Research Associate, Stanford Research Institute. Colonel Marks is a graduate of Air War College and won the George Washington Honor Medal, Freedom Awards Foundation.
Disclaimer
The conclusions and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression, academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air Force or the Air University.
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