From Warlord to National Hero: The Transformation of Liu Xiang

Born in 1888, Liu Xiang’s early military career followed a path typical of regional warlords during China’s fractured Republic era. A 1908 graduate of the Sichuan Army Quick-Course Academy, he initially aligned with Yuan Shikai during the Second Revolution and National Protection War, earning promotion to lieutenant general by age 29. His subsequent fifteen-year struggle (1918-1933) to dominate Sichuan’s chaotic warlord landscape earned him the moniker “King of Sichuan,” but left his reputation—as he himself admitted—”not particularly glorious.”

This provincial strongman faced a critical juncture when Chiang Kai-shek ordered anti-Communist campaigns from 1933-1937. Liu navigated this political minefield with characteristic pragmatism—resisting central government troops entering Sichuan while maintaining clandestine communications with Communist forces. The Sichuan Army under his command developed a notorious reputation for internecine warfare, with Liu lamenting, “We’ve always been fighting among ourselves.”

The Turning Point: July 1937 and the Decision to Resist

The Marco Polo Bridge Incident transformed Liu from regional powerbroker to national resistance leader. Within three days of the July 7, 1937 Japanese attack, Liu became the first warlord to telegram Chiang advocating total war. His July 14 proclamation—”Japan’s aggression concerns not just one province but our entire nation”—marked a dramatic shift. At the August 7 Nanjing defense conference, Liu’s decisive stand-up vote for war preceded his historic pledge: “Sichuan commits 300,000 troops, 5 million laborers, and limitless provisions… every resource we have belongs to China.”

His mobilization speech on September 5 at Chengdu’s Shaocheng Park crystallized the moment: “Sichuanese have always resisted invaders. As your commander, I vow to lead from the front—even crawling through mountains of corpses and seas of fire to expel the Japanese!” The emotional climax came when General Tang Shizun, reviled as “Tang the Plague Pig” for his civil war record, recited his defiant poem: “Sons set forth beyond Kuimen Pass, sworn not to return till invaders fall. Why bury bones in homeland soil? Every green hill makes a hero’s mound!”

The Crucible of War: Sichuan Troops in Battle

Chiang Kai-shek’s strategic manipulation scattered Sichuan units across multiple fronts, denying Liu’s request for concentrated deployment with Yunnan and Guangxi forces. The results proved both tragic and heroic:

Shanghai Meat Grinder (1937):
Yang Sen’s 20th Army—considered China’s “worst-equipped force”—marched 100km daily in straw sandals before reaching Shanghai. Their 26th Division, armed with rope-tied rifles, suffered 85% casualties defending Dachang. Four thousand became six hundred, yet they held—becoming one of Shanghai’s five most effective divisions.

Shanxi Debacle:
Deng Xihou’s 22nd Army Group entered winter combat in summer uniforms after Yan Xishan denied supplies. Their “looting” of an arms depot made them pariahs until Li Zongren welcomed them with dark humor: “If Zhuge Liang could scare enemies with straw men, surely Sichuanese surpass scarecrows!”

Teng County’s Last Stand (1938):
Wang Mingzhang’s 122nd Division became legend during the Xuzhou Campaign. Facing Japan’s elite 5th Division, they fought three days without reinforcements. Wang’s final telegram—”We’ll die fighting to repay our nation”—preceded his street-corner last stand. Their sacrifice enabled the subsequent Taierzhuang victory, prompting Li Zongren’s tribute: “No Teng County bloodshed, no Taierzhuang triumph.”

The Cultural Legacy of Sichuan’s Sacrifice

The human cost was staggering: 26,000 Sichuanese never returned from the 300,000 deployed. Their memorial in Chengdu’s People Park immortalizes the iconic image—straw sandals, bamboo hats, and defiant spirit. Beyond manpower, Sichuan shouldered 30% of national wartime expenditures and 38.75% of grain requisitions from 1941-45.

Liu Xiang’s own story ended tragically. Despite severe gastric ulcers (he traveled with a German surgeon), he insisted on frontline command until collapsing in November 1937. His January 1938 deathbed testament—”Till invaders leave our soil, Sichuan troops won’t return home”—became a daily oath for remaining forces. Posthumously awarded full general rank, his drawer revealed a handwritten couplet: “The army marches forth before victory comes, leaving heroes forever in tears.”

Modern Reverberations

The Sichuan Army’s transformation from provincial militia to national saviors birthed the saying “No China without Sichuan troops,” complementing the older “No army without Hunanese.” This legacy resurfaced during the 2008 Sichuan earthquake, when internet users proclaimed: “Sichuan never failed the nation; the nation must never fail Sichuan.”

Liu Xiang’s complex legacy—warlord turned resistance icon—embodies China’s tumultuous journey to unity. His troops’ sacrifice, commemorated by the haunting “Death Banner” (a father’s gift to his son bearing the character “death” and the injunction “Wipe wounds with this, wrap your corpse in it”), transcended political calculations to define regional pride and national resilience.