Amid recurrent China-Taiwan tensions and rising geopolitical instability, investigative journalist and documentary filmmaker Chai Jing has revisited and updated her iconic 2012 interview with Gao Binghan, a survivor of the Chinese Civil War who escaped with the Nationalists to Taiwan at the age of 13. Now 90 years old, Gao saw his family torn apart by civil war between the Communists and the Nationalists, and says he fears that the two sides are once again inching toward war. “Politics is ruthless,” says Gao in his recent interview with Chai. “Those who forget that history of suffering are destined to suffer again.”

Back in 1948, when he was 13 years old, Gao left his home in Shandong province, weathered a perilous cross-country trek to escape the fighting that had engulfed China, and eventually escaped to Taiwan, where he lives today. Chai Jing’s original 2012 interview with Gao aired on CCTV-1 to great acclaim, but there was much content that was elided due to state-media censorship and the sensitivity of the topic. For that reason, Chai and Gao decided to revisit that interview and fill in some of the gaps. In new portions of the interview, Gao recounts his wartime experiences in vivid detail: his Nationalist-affiliated father’s execution by the Chinese Communist Party in 1947; his two older sisters signing up for the Communist cause and moving to CCP base camp in Yan’an; his mother’s decision to send Gao away for his own safety; and his own perilous trek with Nationalist troops through war-torn China and eventual escape to Taiwan.

Chai Jing, who worked as a reporter, newscaster, and host at China Central Television from 2001 to 2014, has lived with her family in Spain since 2017. In 2015, her self-funded and hugely influential documentary “Under the Dome,” which raised public awareness of air pollution in China, was the subject of several official censorship directives. It was viewed more than 200 million times before it was completely censored online. In 2023, Chai began her own YouTube channel, on which she broadcasts in-depth interviews on topics as diverse as China-Taiwan relations, the war in Ukraine, international jihadism, and Chinese history and politics. A recent article in Matters provides a panoramic look at Chai Jing’s career, past and present, and the inspiration she provided for young journalists. CDT previously translated, in two parts, Chai’s interview with a Chinese mercenary fighting for Russia in Ukraine.

Last week, on May 15, Chai Jing’s best-selling 2012 autobiography “Insight” (the same title as a CCTV program she once hosted) was recalled from multiple Chinese e-commerce platforms including Taobao and JD.com, ostensibly due to unspecified “quality issues.” CDT Chinese editors reported on this thinly veiled censorship of Chai’s book, and noted that as of May 21, the book’s page on Douban had also been deleted. It seems extremely likely that this censorship is related to Chai’s ongoing series of hard-hitting YouTube interviews, all of which are self-produced and uncensored.

Below is Part One of CDT’s full translation of Chai Jing’s recent interview with Gao Binghan, published with Chai Jing’s permission. It covers approximately the first third of the interview, between 00:00 and 13:42. Some explanatory links and descriptions of audio-visual content have been added for clarity.

Chai Jing: Many people are feeling anxious about recent tensions in the Taiwan Strait. Last week, I received a letter from Taiwan. It was from Gao Binghan, a former Nationalist Army officer who I interviewed 14 years ago when I was working for China Central Television [CCTV]. In 1948, at the age of 13, amidst a civil war between the Nationalists and Communists, Gao left his hometown in Shandong and traveled for 14 months, over thousands of kilometers, until he reached [the southern port city of] Xiamen. There, stepping over corpses, he boarded the last ship from mainland China to Taiwan.

Back in 2011, the Chinese Civil War was still a very sensitive topic at CCTV. Given the political and military stalemate that had, at that point, existed between the two sides for over six decades, no producer would dare approve my request to interview someone who had fought on the other side of the war. So it was that I went to Taiwan (in September 2011) in a personal capacity to make this self-funded documentary. The post-production team, likewise, also volunteered their time. When the documentary was complete, the censor said he liked it, but couldn’t possibly sign off on it. He suggested that I reach out to the [State Council’s] Taiwan Affairs Office.

The head of the news department at the Taiwan Affairs Office said he liked the documentary but couldn’t sign off on it either, and directed me to the PLA’s General Staff Department. A representative from that department said that he liked the documentary, but we needed to shelve it for a while. The project remained in limbo until the Qingming Festival in [April] 2012, when our team’s unrelenting efforts finally paid off, and the program was aired on CCTV-1.

Not long afterward, Gao Binghan was selected as one of the individuals who "most moved China" that year. The award carries a certain political significance, so at the time, it seemed to me that history had come full circle, and that the Chinese Civil War was now a thing of the past. Never would I have imagined that in 2025, when 90-year-old Mr. Gao Binghan reached out to me, the two sides of the Strait would once again be clouded by the prospect of war.

Gao Binghan: [in a recent interview] From a very young age, I lived in a time of war, but I survived it. I’m 90 years old now, and having lived through all that, I fear we’re inching toward another war. That’s what worries me.

[Sound effects of mortar fire accompany a black and white wartime photo of soldiers manning a large mortar on a smoke-covered battlefield, with a row of artillery shells on the ground beside them.]

Chai: Because many people today are unfamiliar with war, some find the idea thrilling, and even look forward to it. [Chai’s interview with the Chinese mercenary fighting for Russia also addresses this theme.] What do you most want to say to them?

Gao: Politics is ruthless. Those who forget that history of suffering are destined to suffer again.

Chai: The gravity of the phrase "politics is ruthless" can only be truly understood by those who have borne its weight upon their shoulders. So Mr. Gao and I have decided to revisit the past together, particularly because the cruelty at the heart of the Chinese Civil War wasn’t fully addressed in my documentary all those years ago. Take this segment, for example:

[Footage from the 2012 documentary shows black and white photos of Gao as a young teenager, his classmates, and various documents from the time, accompanied by the sounds of battle and gunfire, and Chai Jing’s voice-over.]

Chai (V.O.): Gao Binghan left his home in Shandong at the age of 13. The year was 1948, and his mother, fearing for her son’s safety during the unrest, had decided to send him to a school in Nanjing. Before he left, she twisted his ear and warned him that if his school disbanded, he should escape with the other refugees and make it out alive. On the day of their parting, she tucked a pomegranate into his clothes for the journey. Gao Binghan had no idea that it would be the last time he ever saw his mother.

[Footage from the 2012 documentary shows Gao and Chai in conversation. Gao sits on a green sofa in front of a wall adorned with a classical Chinese flowered print, and Chai listens intently to his story.]

Gao: My mother was calling out to me, but I was busy eating a pomegranate. A classmate said, "Gao Binghan, your mother is shouting goodbye to you!" I took another bite of the pomegranate, and by the time I looked back, our vehicle had already turned the corner, and I couldn’t see her anymore. [slaps his hands together in a gesture of finality] Ever since, I’ve never been able to eat pomegranates. Just seeing a pomegranate brings back that heartache.

Chai (V.O.): When that documentary aired, some background information was inevitably presented in rather vague terms. For example, [it did not mention that] the reason Gao Binghan’s mother was so worried for his safety was because his father, Gao Jinxi, the principal of a village primary school, had been executed by the Communist Party in 1947 due to his affiliation with the Kuomintang [KMT, or Chinese Nationalist Party].

By early 1947, the relationship between the Nationalist and Communist parties had broken down irretrievably, and China erupted into civil war. That is why Gao Binghan’s mother (Song Shuyu, also a primary school principal) sent him away, telling him to follow the soldiers wearing caps with the sun emblem and not to return home. She also placed in his bundle the blood-stained rope that had been used to bind his father when he was shot and killed.

Gao: [recent footage] After the victory against Japan, the struggle between the two parties intensified. My father was executed in 1947, and in 1948, my mother told me to leave. She wanted me to remember how our family had been wronged, and to want revenge for my father’s death. That’s what she meant by putting that rope, that blood-stained rope, into my bundle.

Chai: Why do you think she insisted on sending you away?

Gao: She told my younger brother that if she hadn’t … [laughs uncomfortably] … if she hadn’t sent me away, she might never see me again, that I might have been executed, too.

Chai: Really? But you were so young then, only 13.

Gao: Yes, but I was already in fifth grade. I was old enough to understand, and to bear a grudge. So he [referring to the man who killed his father] would have, you know.

Chai (V.O.): At the time Gao Binghan’s father was executed by the Communists, his two older sisters were both Communist Party members who had gone to [the Party’s stronghold in] Yan’an during the war against Japan. One of his older sisters, Gao Binghao, was selected as an exemplary young female revolutionary in the Yan’an region and received a commendation from Mao Zedong himself.

Gao: My eldest sister served as a secretary to He Long in Yan’an.

Chai: But your parents knew nothing of their whereabouts?

Gao: No, they didn’t.

Chai: After the victory against Japan, why didn’t your sisters write home?

Gao: They did ask a fruit seller to deliver a letter to my mother. But my parents figured it was a trap. They didn’t think it was possible that their daughters could be Communists, or living in Yan’an. So they plastered the letter onto the wall, covering it with mud.

Chai (V.O.): How could such intense conflict tear a family apart, resulting in such tragedy?

Gao (V.O.): My parents wanted to overthrow the Qing Dynasty because it was corrupt. My sisters thought Chiang Kai-shek was incompetent. All of them wanted to make China stronger, they just had different ideas [about how to go about it]. The way I see it is, things like war and hatred are methods used to settle those differences of opinion.

Chai (V.O.): Gao Binghan said that his maternal grandfather, Song Shaotang, joined [Sun Yat-sen’s] Chinese United League while studying in Japan, and was later at the forefront of the 1911 Xinhai Revolution [that overthrew the Qing Dynasty and established the Republic of China]. Yet his descendants would make it their mission to overthrow the Republic of China, invoking the very same slogans about patriotism and national rejuvenation. And while the Chinese Nationalists referred to the Civil War as “the suppression of rebel bandits,” the Communists called it “a war of liberation against oppression.”

In September 1948, ten days after Gao Binghan left his hometown of Heze, Shandong province, there was a decisive shift in this war of liberation. The People’s Liberation Army captured the city of Jinan in Shandong, thus connecting the liberated areas of North and East China and setting the stage for a major showdown with the Nationalists south of the Longhai Railway Line.

On September 30, 1948, the Nationalist forces that had been guarding the city of Heze abandoned it in the rain. Not long afterward, about a month after Gao Binghan had fled, his elder sister returned to their hometown. Stunned to see her daughter wearing [a Communist] red-star cap, all Gao’s mother could say was: “You’re too late. You just missed him.”

Gao: Because that’s what she (my mother) had told me: if the Nationalists don’t come back here, then neither should you.

Chai: So from your mother’s point of view, her daughter coming back meant that her son couldn’t. Is that right?

Gao: Yes, that’s right. I could never go back.

Chai (V.O.): When Gao Binghan fled Shandong, he relocated with his school to Nanjing. But over the next four months, the Nationalist Army suffered crushing defeats in the three major campaigns of Liaoshen, Huaihai, and Pingjin. Student protests erupted in Nanjing, and the [Nationalist government’s] Ministry of Education proved incapable of providing for the tens of thousands of students who had journeyed south. By the spring of 1949, the vast majority of these students had returned to their hometowns.

But Gao Binghan had promised his mother that he would stay with the Nationalist Army. He fled to Wuhu in Anhui province to seek refuge with a classmate’s father, Liu Xingyuan, who was at that time the commander of the 181st Division of Liu Ruming‘s Eighth Army Corps.

On April 20, 1949, Gao Binghan accompanied the 181st Division to Guichi, Anhui province, located along the south bank of the Yangtze River. That very day, ceasefire talks between the Nationalists and Communists broke down. The PLA’s Second and Third Field Armies crossed the Yangtze, mounting a pincer attack along a swath of the river from Wuhu to Jiangyin.

Gao Binghan, still just a boy, saw the flares lighting up the sky like fireworks and rushed to higher ground to get a better view of the spectacle. He watched as artillery shells bombarded the river, whipping up enormous waves.

But when he turned back, he saw that the camp that had been there just moments before was no more. Liu Ruming’s troops were in full retreat, a mass of people fleeing into the night.

Gao: I didn’t know him (a soldier), but I asked, "Why aren’t you fighting? Why are you running away?" He just smiled and said, "If we don’t get out of here now, we never will." He told me I’d better hurry up, too. I still remember the expression on his face, that helpless smile.

Chai: At the time, were you still hoping that someday you’d be able to go home, if the army could fight its way back?

Gao: No, I’d already given up hope.

Chai: Why?

Gao: Because I was old enough to understand it was a rout. Morale was destroyed.

Chai (V.O.): Gao Binghan retreated alongside the Nationalist Army. Three days later, the PLA captured the Nationalist government capital of Nanjing. This was seen as "the end of Nationalist rule in mainland China," although the PLA continued to pursue the Nationalist forces as they retreated southward. That year, it rained often. The PLA’s Second Field Army pursuing Liu Ruming’s troops recorded that in the 12 days after the Yangtze River crossing, it rained seven times. Braving these heavy southern rains, Liu Ruming’s forces, led by vehicles and infantry, retreated south along the Zhejiang-Jiangxi route. Gao Binghan followed behind, along with the other dependents, family members, refugees, and wounded soldiers.

Chai: What difficulties did those northern troops encounter as they made their retreat during South China’s rainy season? Three details from Gao Binghan’s account made a deep impression on me.

The first detail was about the passage through Majinling, on the border between Anhui and Zhejiang provinces. There was an ancient mountain path, dating from the Yuan Dynasty, paved with stone slabs no more than a few feet wide, and extending for about a dozen miles. The northern horses were unaccustomed to traveling in the rain on such treacherous mountain paths, and they sometimes slipped and fell, dragging their riders to their deaths in the canyons below.

The second was about crossing a very narrow wooden bridge after they made their descent from Majinling. Gao Binghan said he saw twenty or thirty soldiers crossing the bridge carrying heavy weapons, but the wooden structure couldn’t bear their weight. It collapsed, plunging all of those soldiers into the rushing waters below. None survived.

The third was that the northern soldiers he was with had no experience navigating the flooded southern waterways. Gao Binghan saw them scavenging villages for furniture and wooden basins to use as makeshift rafts, and even digging up coffin boards from graves. But when a flash flood surged downstream, all he could do was watch in horror as the wooden rafts were smashed against the rocks and everyone was swept into the water. Two days later, further downstream, he saw over a hundred corpses floating in the water. His own life was hanging by a thread.

[Black and white wartime photo of an enormous crowd of refugees, some with heavily laden carts, along with some cars and other vehicles]

Gao: Because there were crowds of refugees everywhere, civilians and soldiers all mixed together. It was complete chaos, and so packed you could hardly move. I managed to climb into the back of an army truck when it slowed down. There were six soldiers guarding the truck, and one of the soldiers tried to push me … [stuttering a bit] he tried to push me off with the butt of his rifle. But his squad leader stopped him, saying, “Don’t, don’t push him. We’re moving too fast. If you push the kid off, he’ll get hurt.” Later, when we were crossing a river—it was just a little stream, with no bridge—the leader gave the other soldier a look, and they shoved me into the water.

Chai: Did you lose your bundle?

Gao: Yeah, I lost everything. I kept walking, and when I came to a hill up ahead, I saw the army truck flipped over and caught in some trees. It hadn’t slid all the way downhill because it got caught in the trees, but it had overturned.

Chai: What about the soldiers onboard?

Gao: They all fell into the ravine and died.

Chai: Gao Binghan said that as he fled, for the most part, he didn’t see any exchange of fire between Nationalist and Communist troops. Instead, what he witnessed was the complete disintegration of the Nationalist Army.

[Black and white wartime photos of crowded railway stations, retreating soldiers, groups of children, and long lines of civilian refugees.]

Chai (V.O.): The Northwestern Army [a former warlord-led faction that had been absorbed into the KMT army] had a tradition of "keeping the family together." The troops operated like familial clans, with wives and children often accompanying the soldiers into battle. But having lost their vehicles and horses during the retreat, by the time they reached Zhejiang, they had been reduced to traveling on foot and were no longer capable of mounting any form of armed resistance.

Late one night, pursued by PLA troops, Gao Binghan and the soldiers’ wives and children fled along a stretch of railway tracks. At daybreak, they discovered that one of the infants had been suffocated, strangled by the bindings that its mother used to strap the baby to her back. Cradling her dead child, the mother separated from the group, and Gao Binghan never saw her again. Before long, military discipline within the unit had broken down completely.

Gao: They started grabbing porters, grabbing random civilians, and making them carry loads with shoulder poles. That’s how they had to flee, trying to balance these shoulder poles with a load of food hanging from one side and a kid hanging from the other.

Chai: And these people who were forced to be porters, were they … ?

Gao: Some were taken to Taiwan and later joined the army. Others didn’t make it to Taiwan, because they managed to escape when we stopped to rest.

Chai: Were the escapees punished?

Gao: If they got caught, they’d be shot.

Chai: Mr. Gao told me that he once witnessed the public execution of a porter from Yushan, Jiangxi province, who had tried to escape. Just before the gunshot rang out, the kneeling porter cried out, "Mama, I’m so sorry!"

Thirteen-year-old Gao Binghan clenched his fists, lowered his head, and thought, “You have nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault.” [Chinese]