The historic Long March in eleven provinces was once a desperate journey across some of China’s harshest landscapes, undertaken by a beleaguered Red Army fighting for survival. Today, its memory runs through the country’s political identity, economic transformation and technological ambitions like red arteries carrying the lifeblood of national rejuvenation.
As China marks the 90th anniversary of the Long March’s conclusion in 1936 and the 105th anniversary of the founding of the Communist Party of China (CPC) in 2026, the question is not simply how the country remembers its revolutionary past. It is how that past continues to shape its future.
For Mao Zedong, the Long March demonstrated revolutionary endurance. For Deng Xiaoping, it became a metaphor for economic modernization trough opening up. Under Xi Jinping, it has been incorporated into the pursuit of national rejuvenation, technological self-reliance and socialist modernisation with Chinese characteristics. The three leaders represent different historical periods, but their interpretations share a recurring theme: overcoming formidable obstacles requires determination, strategic direction and sustained collective effort.
In his 1935 essay “On Tactics Against Japanese Imperialism”, Mao described the Long March as “a manifesto, a propaganda force, a seeding-machine”. The formulation captured his understanding of the march as more than a military withdrawal. It demonstrated the Red Army’s survival, communicated its political message and planted the seeds of future revolutionary mobilisation.
In October 1934, approximately 86,000 Red Army personnel began the strategic withdrawal from the base of Jiangxi Province, crossing the Yudu River as Nationalist forces intensified their encirclement. The long journey lasted until 1936 and covered thousands of kilometres across mountains, rivers, grasslands and snow-covered passes and endured hunger, exhaustion and repeated military engagements. The journey’s human cost was immense. Only a fraction of those who departed survived the ordeal.
The Zunyi Conference at Guizhou Province in January 1935 became a crucial turning point in the CPC’s leadership and military strategy, strengthening Mao’s position. The eventual arrival of surviving forces in northern China in 1935 and 1936 helped preserve the revolutionary movement.
Yet the story was not written by soldiers alone. Local people supplied food, shelter and clothing, while some villagers dismantled wooden doors and bed boards to construct makeshift bridges. One enduring account from Shazhou Village in Hunan Province describes three female Red Army soldiers cutting their only “quilt in half” to share it with a poor household.
These stories underpin the CPC’s emphasis on maintaining close relations with ordinary people. Their contemporary relevance lies in a straightforward principle: political legitimacy cannot be sustained by historical achievements alone. It must also be supported by institutions that respond to public needs and improve people’s lives.
Mao said, “The Long March is also a seeding-machine. In the eleven provinces it has sown many seeds which will sprout, leaf, blossom, and bear fruit, and will yield a harvest in the future.” The metaphor offers a lesson. Seeds do not produce a harvest simply because they have been planted; they require time, resources and sustained cultivation. Likewise, revolutionary determination could establish a political foundation, but economic development required the construction of productive capacity, infrastructure, educational institutions and technological expertise.
Mao expressed the same spirit in his poem “The Long March”, written in October 1935. Its opening line, commonly translated as “The Red Army fears not the trials of the Long March”, presents mountains, rivers and formidable terrain as obstacles to be confronted rather than reasons to abandon the mission.
The contemporary relevance of this outlook can be seen in Guizhou. The province’s high bridges, once difficult to imagine amid its mountainous terrain, now connect communities and facilitate economic activity. In Zunyi, manufacturers are now developing specialised industrial products, including deep-sea mooring cables and components for new-energy vehicles. These achievements represent a different kind of struggle from that of the 1930s, but they illustrate a comparable emphasis on overcoming constraints through sustained effort.
Four decades after the original march, Deng Xiaoping gave the metaphor a different purpose. In his address of 13 December 1978, “Emancipate the Mind, Seek Truth From Facts and Unite As One In Looking to the Future”, he described China’s modernisation drive as a “new Long March”. He argued that the country needed to free itself from rigid thinking, confront inherited problems and develop policies suited to its actual circumstances.
The significance of Deng’s interpretation lay in its shift of emphasis. The central challenge was no longer simply to survive political and military adversity. It was to acquire the knowledge, institutions and productive capabilities needed to transform an impoverished country into a modern state.
Deng’s principle of seeking truth from facts was particularly important. He argued that development could not be achieved by mechanically repeating established formulas or relying on empty political rhetoric. Ideas had to be tested against practical conditions, while policies had to change when experience demonstrated their limitations.
His approach also placed technological learning and administrative reform at the centre of modernisation. In the same 1978 address, Deng argued that China needed to study economics, science and technology, and management. He stressed that bureaucratic obstacles and unclear responsibilities could undermine development, even when political objectives were clearly stated.
China’s reform and opening-up process by Deng provides a concrete example of this approach. The establishment of special economic zones, including Shenzhen in 1980, created spaces in which new economic arrangements, foreign investment and export-oriented manufacturing could develop. Shenzhen subsequently evolved from a relatively small border settlement into a major manufacturing and technology hub.
Deng’s emphasis on learning also has a direct connection with China’s present pursuit of technological self-reliance. The objective is not merely to proclaim independence from foreign technology, but to acquire the capabilities required to design, manufacture and improve complex products.
For President Xi Jinping, the spirit of the Long March remains deeply embedded in the Chinese nation’s collective consciousness, providing spiritual nourishment for successive generations. The challenge for contemporary China is to translate that inheritance into practical achievements: better livelihoods, stronger institutions, technological self-reliance and a development model capable of responding to the demands of a changing world.
The central idea is that every generation faces its own challenges. In his books “The Governance of China”, Xi’s broader argument about national development places historical experience within a contemporary framework of governance, reform, innovation and long-term national objectives.
Xi Jinping has repeatedly invoked the idea that “Every generation has its own long march, and every generation must see that march through”, confronting the challenges and responsibilities of its time. The metaphor captures both the continuity of China’s national project and the scale of the work that remains.
He further said, “The long march goes on. There can be no future for a people who do not remember the road that brought them to where they are today. No matter how far our causes take us, and how great our achievements may be, we must always carry forward the spirit of the Long March and continue to forge ahead with courage.”
Today, the Long March route has also become a corridor of rural development, infrastructure investment and cultural tourism. In Ningxia’s Lingwu, ecological engineering has helped transform parts of an arid landscape into productive agricultural areas. In Yudu County, Jiangxi Province, selenium-rich rice cultivation and modern greenhouse farming have created opportunities to raise rural incomes. Such initiatives connect the memory of revolutionary hardship with the contemporary objective of rural revitalisation.
For developing countries, the Long March offers a broader framework for reflecting on national goal and development strategy. It raises fundamental questions about how states can build productive capacity, modernise infrastructure, accelerate poverty reduction and cultivate the human capital necessary to compete in an increasingly technology-driven global economy.
Bangladesh, for example, could draw practical lessons from China’s emphasis on infrastructure connectivity, technical education, industrial upgrading and sustained development planning. But the objective should not be to reproduce China’s political institutions or assume that its economic trajectory can be copied. Bangladesh must adapt lessons to its own institutions, population, resources and democratic aspirations.
For China, the red arteries of the Long March now run through China’s pursuit of modernisation, innovation and shared prosperity, carrying the enduring spirit of a revolution into the aspirations of a new era.
(The Writer is the Diplomatic Correspondent of the New Nation.)