A Nation’s Fresh Start and Its First Test

In the early years of the People’s Republic of China, the Communist Party faced a critical challenge: how to maintain revolutionary integrity while transitioning from wartime struggle to peacetime governance. The 1952 public trial and execution of two high-ranking officials—Liu Qingshan and Zhang Zishan—marked a defining moment in this journey.

As the dust settled after decades of conflict, China’s new leadership under Mao Zedong sought to establish a government free from the corruption that had plagued previous regimes. The case of Liu and Zhang, later dubbed “the Republic’s first anti-corruption case,” would test these ideals in dramatic fashion.

From Revolutionary Heroes to Corrupt Officials

Liu Qingshan and Zhang Zishan were not ordinary bureaucrats. Both had sterling revolutionary credentials:

– Liu joined the Communist Party at 15, survived a failed uprising where most participants were executed, and became a resistance leader against Japanese occupation. Japanese forces had placed a 1,500 silver dollar bounty on his head.
– Zhang endured imprisonment and torture by Nationalist forces for organizing student protests, escaping during the chaos of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident to rejoin the revolution.

Their postwar appointments reflected their standing—Liu as Shijiazhuang Municipal Party Committee deputy secretary, Zhang as Tianjin Prefectural Committee secretary. Colleagues recalled Zhang’s early modesty: smoking cheap cigarettes, wearing simple clothes, and delivering eloquent speeches without notes.

The Slippery Slope of “Organizational Production”

The corruption began with China’s “organizational production” policy—a temporary measure allowing government offices to operate businesses to supplement funding during economic hardship. Liu and Zhang transformed this into a personal profit machine:

– In 1951, they inflated food prices for river conservancy workers while embezzling relief funds, pocketing 1.6 billion old yuan (equivalent to 160,000 new yuan).
– Posing as military officers, they purchased 4,000 cubic meters of timber at 720,000 yuan per unit, reselling to flood victims at 2 million yuan.
– Their tin reselling scheme alone wasted 300 million yuan in state assets while causing 2.1 billion in economic losses.

Lavish Excesses in an Age of Austerity

As their illicit wealth grew, their lifestyles became increasingly extravagant:

– Liu moved into a colonial-era villa on Tianjin’s Race Course Road—dubbed “Liu Mansion”—and imported two American luxury cars using public funds.
– Zhang spent 900 million yuan on five official cars and hosted banquets with 8-16 course meals, while smoking 8-10 packs of premium cigarettes monthly.
– Their combined embezzlement could have purchased 2.26 million pounds of millet—staggering sums in post-war China.

A possibly apocryphal but telling anecdote described Liu’s wintertime demand for leek-flavored dumplings without actual leeks (which upset his stomach), requiring cooks to boil then remove whole leeks from each dumpling.

The Whistleblower and the Political Climate

The case might have gone unreported but for Tianjin Deputy Commissioner Li Kecai:

1. Initial complaints to provincial leaders were dismissed with excuses: “Liu’s opium use? A work-related habit he’s kicked!”
2. Undeterred, Li presented evidence at a 824-delegate provincial congress in November 1951—later earning him the title “the Republic’s first anti-corruption whistleblower.”
3. The timing aligned with Mao’s launch of the “Three Antis” campaign (anti-corruption, anti-waste, anti-bureaucratism), making Liu and Zhang ideal targets.

The Death Penalty Debate

Their arrest sparked intense debate within the Party:

– 96% of 522 surveyed cadres supported execution.
– Some veterans pleaded for leniency, citing their revolutionary service.
– Tianjin’s mayor appealed directly to Mao via Zhou Enlai, arguing for rehabilitation.

Mao’s response became legendary: “By executing them, we may save twenty, two hundred, two thousand, or even twenty thousand cadres who have committed various errors.”

The Final Reckoning

On February 10, 1952, over 20,000 people packed Baoding Stadium for the trial. The charges included:

– Theft of disaster relief funds
– Military supply profiteering
– Misuse of water conservancy budgets
– Systematic bribery

The night before execution, the men shared a final meal with wine. Liu wept, lamenting, “To survive revolution only to die like this—what meaning does it have?” Zhang accepted his fate stoically, asking only that his family be cared for.

At the execution ground, both collapsed upon seeing their graves. Facing away from the firing squad (a concession allowing intact faces for burial), they fell to two gunshots.

Legacy and Lessons

This case established enduring precedents:

1. Symbolic Power: Demonstrated that no revolutionary pedigree exempted one from punishment.
2. Systemic Impact: The “Three Antis” campaign removed 4.5% of all cadres nationwide within months.
3. Modern Parallels: Xi Jinping’s anti-corruption drive frequently references this case as historical justification for tough measures.

Zhang’s final words—”Use my bloody lesson!”—and Liu’s plea—”Make me an example for history”—capture the paradox at the heart of communist governance: how to wield power without being corrupted by it. Their story remains China’s most potent warning about the costs of betraying revolutionary ideals.