Hog Shares

(A Sequel to Letters of Credit)

By Steven R. Champion
1
(Taipei, December 15, 1978)

Father Lionel Haggis took a long hit on this sixth jumbo-sized Glenfiddich of the evening and surveyed the
scene. He was seated at the VIP table at the annual American Chamber of Commerce Christmas Ball. For
the past decade, Father Haggis had been invited to give the pre-dinner Invocation and then to take his
place with the other notables, including the American Ambassador, the incoming and outgoing presidents
of the Chamber, the Chamber’s full-time executive director, the commander of U.S. Forces in Taiwan, and,
in most cases, their respective ladies.

This year, the Ball was being held at the Officers’ Club on Chung Shan North Road, and the duty-free booze
had now been flowing for hours. Following his onerous thirty seconds of public prayer, Father Haggis had
followed his usual custom of enjoying the food and drink, observing the strange habits of the isolated
expatriate community, and schmoosing with the other revelers to pick up random bits of market
information and maybe a piece or two of new business. Tonight he had been enthralled watching Madge
Grubek eat her blood-rare prime rib with her fingers and then pass out soon after the dessert was served.
Mrs. Grubek, now completely inert and unresponsive under the table, was married to the outgoing
Chamber president who was currently the managing director of Videotek Enterprises (Taiwan), Ltd., one
of the many electronics ventures sprouting-up on the island. The incoming president was of another
stripe entirely, the urbane Kraut von Bülow of Glendenning Glass who was returning for another term of
office by popular demand.

U.S. forces on the island had been in a slow, steady drawdown mode for several years, and there were
said to be only about seven-hundred military personnel left,1 a shadow of the huge presence during the
height of the Vietnam War. Political change was in the air, and Father Haggis had been hoping to glean
some inside information from his prestigious tablemates to help him gain an edge in his surprisingly large,
quite illegal dealings in the underground financial markets. So far, the pickings had been slim to non-
existent. Admiral Linder had excused himself very early in the evening after saying very little to anyone,
and Ambassador Unger, sporting a dapper, red bow tie and matching cummerbund with his tuxedo, was
his usual friendly, but circumspect self. Both von Bülow and General Johanson, of AmCham, had been
politely peppering both officials for any indications that the American position on the diplomatic status of
Taiwan was about to change, but this had been met with the usual polite, non-comital responses.

Father Haggis was stirred from his alcohol-induced reverie, by General Johanson’s booming baritone.
“Why Lulu, honey, c’mon over here and talk to me. I’ve been lookin’ all over for you and your new
boyfriend all night.” The General had planted a huge, hairy paw on Lulu’s shapely buttocks as he spoke.

1
Jay Mathews, “Americans Told to Avoid Taipei Streets,” The Washington Post, December 18, 1978, p. A14.

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Lulu ignored this. “I’ve been looking for Pongo too, General, but he seems to have disappeared
somewhere. The last time I saw him he was carrying on about the 1954 Cleveland Indians with some guy
from Globobank. Anyway, I’m not so sure that Pongo is really my boyfriend.”

“That’s just flat-out wonderful news, Lulu, honey, I’ve been lookin’ forward to renewin’ our close, personal
friendship ever since you got back into town.”

Lulu smiled, “We’ll have to see about that, General…..Oh, here comes Pongo now.”

The usually unflappable Pongo Twistleton was rapidly approaching, looking flustered and on the verge of
panic.

“Pongo, are you OK. I hope you’re not still upset about that Rocky Colavito business you were arguing
about.”

“No, Lulu, we got that all settled, and I finally convinced that idiot that Rocky didn’t even join the Indians
until 1955. Furthermore….Oh my, I can’t discuss this now I have to give the Ambassador an important
message right away. Excuse me for a moment.”

Pongo approached Ambassador Unger, bent down, and whispered something into his ear. The handsome,
energetic diplomat showed no emotion, but was heard to say, “Thanks, Pongo. I was afraid of this. I think
we all know what to expect.” With that, he rose, politely excused himself, and quickly headed for the exit
with no further distractions.

Pongo returned to his companions and appeared to notice for the first time that the General was fondling
Lulu’s posterior. “What was that all about, Pongo, ole buddy?”

“I’m not sure, General, but I just received an urgent call from Mark Pratt at Embassy. He asked me to tell
the Ambassador that he should get over to the secure communications facility on the base to take a
telephone call from Washington as soon as possible. Must be pretty important.”

Father Haggis took this all in, rose to his feet, and said to no one in particular, “Time to call it a night then.
Yes, yes, yes.” No one paid the slightest attention as he then shuffled out of the ballroom, considering
how to best adjust his foreign exchange positions over the next few hours to maximize the value of this
new information.

***

A few hours later at 9:00 p.m. Friday in Washington, President Carter went on national television to
announce:

“The United States of America and the People’s Republic of China have agreed to recognize each
other and to establish diplomatic relations as of January 1, 1979.

The United States recognizes the Government of the People’s Republic of China as the sole legal
Government of China…The Government of the United States of America acknowledges the
Chinese position that there is but one China and Taiwan is part of China…”2

2
“Text of the President’s Statement on Ties with China,” The New York Times, December 16, 1978, p.8.

2
 The timing was perfect from the president’s point of view with Congress on Christmas recess and caught
flat-footed by the announcement. In October, the Senate had resolved 94 to 0 that it should be consulted
before any action was taken to change Taiwan’s diplomatic status, but this had somehow failed to impress
the Carter administration.3 Likewise, a recent poll showed 265 members of the House of Representatives
to be against recognition of Communist China on the terms of the actual agreement and only five
members in favor of the establishment of relations on an unconditional basis.4

Ambassador Unger, who had been pressing through State Department channels for President Chiang
Ching-kuo to be given at least two weeks’ notice before any diplomatic changes, was told to inform him
only twenty minutes before the official announcement. Using his considerable powers of persuasion, the
Ambassador was able to convince his superiors to allow him to contact the leader of America’s firm ally
of twenty-five years standing in the wee hours of Saturday morning, Taipei time.

The frail, diabetic, sixty-eight year old President Chiang was finally awakened at 2:30 a.m. and hauled into
a meeting with Unger and Mark Pratt, Political Counselor at the Embassy. The Chinese president was
accompanied by James Soong, his personal secretary and translator, and Vice Foreign Minister Frederick
Chien. President Chiang was described as “very sober and statesmanlike” during the meeting, and he told
the Americans that he believed that they would regret their decision, that it would not turn out well, and
that they would be sorry.5

Reaction from Congress was swift. Senator Barry Goldwater issued a press release stating, “The
President’s decision on China represents one of the most cowardly acts ever performed by a President of
the United States [which] stabs in the back the nation of Taiwan, one of the most faithful and trustworthy
friends our country has ever had.” Bill Brock, Chairman of the Republican National Committee, called the
move “disgraceful, selfish, and intemperate.” Other officials commented in a similar vein, and even those
who had been instrumental in achieving the breakthroughs in reestablishing the relationship with
Mainland China, such as Henry Kissinger and George Bush, offered only tepid and qualified support for
the President’s actions.6

While generally approving of the reestablishment of the relationship as a practical matter, the sober,
analytical Vermont Royster noted in The Wall Street Journal,

“The thing that strikes me most forcibly about the new deal with Communist China is what terrible
negotiators we Americans are.

The Carter Administration has agreed to ‘normalization’ of relations with the People’s Republic –
i.e., full diplomatic recognition – on terms no different from those the Chinese would have
welcomed at any time since 1972.”7

3
“China’s Price,” The Wall Street Journal, December 18, 1978, p.28.
4
Richard Halloran, “Carter’s Recognition Step Draws Applause and Anger, The New York Times, December 16,
1978, p.10.
5
Charles Stuart Kennedy, “Interview with Mark S. Pratt,” Frontline Diplomacy: The Foreign Affairs Oral History
Collection of the Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, 2010, p. 146.
6
Richard Halloran, “Carter’s Recognition Step Draws Applause and Anger,” The New York Times, December 16,
1978, p.10.
7
Vermont Royster, “Thinking Things Over: Negotiation American Style,” The Wall Street Journal, December 20,
1978, p. 18.

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International reaction to the announcement was generally sober and realistic, as exemplified by the Far
Eastern Economic Review’s coverage:

“It was an announcement that had been expected since the days of ping-pong diplomacy, but
when normalization finally came, it was with such suddenness that it startled the world. Final
agreement on normalization between the United States and China was one of the decade’s least
surprising maneuvers, unveiled in the most surprising way…[It was] a victory of ambiguity over
explicitness and a triumph of statecraft - and stagecraft - over ideology.”8

Speaking many years later, Mark Pratt reflected in a discussion with a Foreign Service colleague, “As you
I’m sure are quite aware, there was absolutely no concern whatsoever on the Carter team about human
rights in China.”9

***

A few days after Christmas, Pongo Twistleton was sitting quietly in his small, windowless office at the
soon-to-be-abandoned, somewhat run-down U.S. Embassy in Taipei and pondering what the implications
of de-recognition would be for his budding career in diplomacy. Not that Pongo was very worried about
the situation one way or the other, and he was about due for a transfer anyway. He wondered if there
might be opportunities in China for him after the “normalization” of relations and imagined himself as the
U.S. Consul in some obscure, but highly romantic outpost on the Mainland – perhaps with the lovely,
innocent Lulu by his side.

Pongo’s pleasant fantasies were interrupted by his boss Mark Pratt, “Hey Pongo, is everything OK in here?”

“Tippy-top, Mark. Why? Is something up?”

“Well, I guess you’d never know it sitting here, but we did have two- or three-thousand of our good
Chinese friends outside the Embassy this morning throwing rocks at us, smashing out most of our windows,
and wrecking a few odd cars here and there. Nothing much, I guess.”

“Oh that. I did hear something about a mob outside. I suppose some of the people here are not too
happy about being de-recognized and perhaps also about the rather rude way we managed to handle it.
Anyway, I guess that it’s pretty much over now. Some fellow from Security stuck his head in and told me
that the Marine guards were ‘inviting’ the demonstrators to go away through the application of a little
tear gas.”10

“The Ambassador, of course, has been firing off cables for days warning Washington about the emotional
reactions here, but the Deputy Secretary and his entourage are still determined to fly into the military
side of Sung Shan Airport this afternoon. The last I heard there would be about sixteen coming in on the
Navy flight, including Mr. Christopher, Roger Sullivan,11 some legal types from State, Admiral Weisner,12

8
Melinda Liu, “The Long March to Realism,” Far Eastern Economic Review, December 29, 1978, p. 10.
9
Charles Stuart Kennedy, “Interview with Mark S. Pratt,” Frontline Diplomacy: The Foreign Affairs Oral History
Collection of the Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, October 21, 1999, p. 149.
10
Charles Stuart Kennedy, “Interview with Ambassador William Andreas Brown,” Frontline Diplomacy: The Foreign
Affairs Oral History Collection of the Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, November 3, 1998, p. 168.
11
Until earlier in 1978, the Deputy Chief of Mission at the U.S. Embassy in Taipei.
12
CINCPAC

4
and other luminaries from Commerce, Defense, the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, and, possibly, the Cub
Scouts, for all I know.”

Pongo chuckled at Pratt’s humorous and histrionic comments.

“Then we’re going to have a gaggle of people from the Embassy, the local military, a few dozen from the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the usual scrum of local and foreign reporters. What a mess! Anyway,
that’s why I’m here, Pongo. We’re going to need all our Chinese speakers to deal with this chaos, and I
think you had better join us at the airport. The local security people have gotten the Ambassador to agree
to having the whole throng transported to the Grand Hotel using their cars and drivers. I told the
Ambassador that that seemed to me to be pretty dangerous and hard to control, but he’s trying to soothe
the feelings on the Taiwan side and went along with it. He also agreed to let Fred Chien introduce the
Deputy Secretary at the airport press conference, and that’s another ticking time bomb because Fred has
been an angry man probably since he was in his teens.”13

“OK Mark, I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Pongo. I’d better get back to the group the Ambassador has drafting some comments for Mr.
Christopher. Of course, he’s not likely to use any of it since he’s really just here to tell them what it is that
we have decided, what we are going to do, and what it is that they are going to have to do. He’ll be very
polite about it, but there won’t be any negotiations, as I’m afraid they are expecting. Of course, this is a
relatively highhanded and not very polite way of handling things, but there it is. OK, see you at the airport.
Our Chinese hosts have assured us that security won’t be a problem and all that sort of thing, but better
stay alert just in case.”14

When the time came, Pongo couldn’t find any embassy car available and just hopped into a taxi and asked
to go the somewhat remotely located military gate at the airport. The good natured driver told him that
there was a big protest going on there, but readily agreed to take Pongo to his destination. There were
indeed several thousand locals half-heartedly demonstrating their dissatisfaction with U.S. policy, but the
driver just inched through the crowd with little problem. Once inside the military terminal, Pongo saw
that it was a disorderly cast of thousands with no one in apparent charge of the situation. He also noticed
that many television cameras and microphones had been set up in front of a lectern with several Republic
of China flags behind it. After about a half hour, the American visitors could be seen approaching the
lectern, surrounded by a mob of local reporters, all of whom seem to be screaming simultaneously at the
top of their lungs.

When Fred Chien, the Deputy Foreign Minister, began speaking to the cameras, it was with far from the
polite, measured tones of international diplomacy; rather it was the red-faced ranting of a very angry man.
One senior American diplomat called the remarks “acerbic and vitriolic,”15 and another noted that Chien
was “wagging his finger”16 as he spoke. Pongo heard him refer to the “justified anger” of the people on

13
Charles Stuart Kennedy, “Interview with Mark S. Pratt,” Frontline Diplomacy: The Foreign Affairs Oral History
Collection of the Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, October 21, 1999, p. 153.
14
Ibid., p. 150.
15
Charles Stuart Kennedy, “Interview with Ambassador William Andreas Brown,” Frontline Diplomacy: The Foreign
Affairs Oral History Collection of the Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, November 3, 1998, p. 169.
16
Charles Stuart Kennedy, “Interview with Mark S. Pratt,” Frontline Diplomacy: The Foreign Affairs Oral History
Collection of the Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, October 21, 1999, p. 153.

5
Taiwan several times and make some unambiguous threats about what was waiting for the visitors in
Taipei. Chien then basically laid down the Taiwan side’s hard line negotiating position, from which he
pledged never to deviate: the future relationship between Taiwan and the United States must be on a
government-to-government basis, rather than the people-to-people basis which the U.S. was obligated to
pursue.17

Deputy Secretary Christopher’s remarks to the mob were quite the other thing: cool and professional.

“President Carter has asked me to come here to initiate discussions with President Chiang and
other senior officials of your government. In these discussions, my purpose will be to seek to
develop a general framework for our future relationship. We will be discussing arrangements
which can enable our two peoples to maintain our cultural, commercial, and other relationships
on an unofficial basis. We are here to begin an important process, and I hope we can make a good
start. I am grateful to President Chiang and his colleagues for setting aside time for these
discussions. I look forward to meetings which will reflect the goodwill and understanding that has
existed between us.”18

It that point, the whole mob, led by the Americans, made for the exits where thirty-or-so Foreign Ministry
cars were waiting to take them to the Grand Hotel for a welcoming dinner to be hosted by the Foreign
Minister. There was massive confusion as Warren Christopher, Ambassador Unger, and Admiral Weidner
all piled into the spacious back seat of a huge, late model Cadillac limousine. The passenger’s side door
of the front seat remained open as everyone appeared to be nervously waiting for someone to join the
group.

Pongo was standing nearby, and Neal Donnelly, the Embassy press officer, hurriedly approached him and
pulled him towards the open door, tensely noting, “Better get in, Pongo. Mark has apparently been
detained, and we can’t wait around. Someone has to be able to communicate with the driver, and it looks
like you’re the lucky winner.”

The door was slammed shut, and the limo sped away towards the military gatepost where Pongo knew
that it would turn right into a series of small lanes which led to Pei An Road and to the Grand Hotel. He
saw that Fred Chien was in the only car ahead of them as they continued rapidly forward. At the
checkpoint, Chien’s car surprised Pongo by turning left, away from the banquet venue.

17
Pongo Twistleton eventually established a reputation within the State Department for his sense of humor and his
ability to tell a good story. The foundation of this reputation was based in a funny story he heard from a friend of
his in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Taipei at about this time and which he passed-on with just a touch of
embroidery. It seemed that the government driver assigned to drive Fred Chien and Warren Christopher around
Taipei and to their various appointments had only a very basic understanding of English. Thus, when he heard the
two of them arguing about the basis for the future relationship between Taiwan and the United States, he misheard
“people-to-people” as “pigu-to-pigu” or “ 屁 股 to 屁 股 ” and “government-to-government” as “gangmen-to-
gangmen” or “肛門 to 肛門.” Since “pigu” would be translated as “buttocks” and “gangmen” as “rectum,” the driver
asked Vice Minister Chien, “What’s the difference?” See: “The U.S. De-recognizes Taiwan in Favor of Communist
China – January 1, 1979,” Moments in U.S. Diplomatic History: The Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training,
No date.
18
David E. Reuther, “Interview with Neal Donnelly,” Frontline Diplomacy: The Foreign Affairs Oral History Collection
of the Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, December 11, 2001, p. 60.

6
Not a bit awed by his very senior companions who seemed to be in a shocked state of muteness, Pongo
calmly noted, “That’s funny, Ambassador Unger. Fred Chien’s car just made the wrong turn for the Grand
Hotel. He must be going somewhere else.”

Stray demonstrators began to appear on either side of the narrow lane, and some were holding signs and
chanting slogans.

“What does that big sign say, Pongo?” the Ambassador asked.

“Well sir, I believe the teeth illustrated on the poster refer to President Carter, and the actual words mean
something like, ‘One big step by a peanut politician.’ The one next to that one says, ‘American dogs roll
back home!!!’”19

A few peanuts were thrown at the car which turned onto another small lane which skirted the boundary
of the airfield. There they were greeted by a mob estimated to be somewhere around twenty thousand20
strong, which appeared to be made-up mostly of college-age students. A huge truck with television
cameras mounted on the rear blocked the road ahead, and the lead American car was forced to stop. The
students were screaming, and the peanuts were now replaced by rotten eggs and rocks covered in wet
mud. The rocks quickly took out all the car windows except for the one next to the driver, and the rioters
climbed on the car’s massive hood and trunk, rocking the car forward and back. Others complimented
this by pushing from the sides to rock the car from right to left. Bamboo poles and iron bars were pushed
through the shattered windows and shaken back and forth at the passengers. All the occupants were
sprayed by the shattered glass and received relatively minor cuts which, however, bled copiously. Pongo’s
and the Ambassador’s glasses were smashed, and everyone took sharp blows from the poles shoved into
their faces and upper bodies. Pongo thought that they might be killed if the situation continued, but he
managed to convince the driver to pull around the television truck when a brief opportunity arose, and
they sped away from the vicious melee.

As they put some distance between themselves and the rioting, Ambassador Unger spoke to Pongo with
amazing poise and calm, “Tell the driver to take us up to my place in Yang Ming Shan. If we go to the
Grand, there will probably be another mob waiting for us.”

Pongo did as instructed, and, surprisingly, the driver complied. Soon they were back into a normal-
appearing Taipei, and they pulled into the Ambassador’s residence about fifteen minutes later. Little had
been said during the short trip, but everyone was bleeding and thoroughly roughed-up. Mrs. Unger was
horrified to see the group in this condition and did her best to get everyone cleaned-up and supplied with
a strong scotch whiskey.

Christopher was soon on the telephone with Secretary Vance, and Pongo quickly realized that he was out
of place with this group. He politely excused himself, and the Ambassador’s personal driver drove him
down the hill to Tien-mou and Pongo’s modest hillside house.

When Pongo arrived home, he found the lights dimmed, a Mozart piano sonata playing on his stereo, a
chilled bottle of champagne, two glasses, and Lulu dressed only in a very short, transparent red nightgown.

19
Henry Scott-Stokes, “Taiwan Leaders Respond To U.S. Move with Calm,” The New York Times, December 17,
1978, p. 22.
20
Warren Christopher, Chances of a Lifetime, Scribner, New York, 2001, p.92.

7
“Oh Pongo, my hero, I heard that you had been injured by the demonstrators, and I’ve been a nervous
wreck. Mrs. Unger called to tell me that you were not too seriously hurt and were on your way home so
I prepared a special surprise for you.”

“Thanks, Lulu. Let’s have a glass or two of that champagne. Jeepers! I can’t believe that I’m here in my
own living room with you as if nothing had happened. A couple of hours ago, I thought that I might be
dead by now. I’ve never seen such a huge, totally irrational mob before, even back at St. Dunstan’s.”

“The television news called it a completely spontaneous demonstration.”

“Well, I think that’s most unlikely, Lulu.”

“Why, Pongo dear?”

“For one thing, the island remains under martial law, and assembling a crowd of twenty thousand people
is entirely impossible without a raft of governmental approvals. Even a crowd of twenty would need some
level of approval.”

Lulu realized that Pongo was absolutely right.

“Then again, Lulu, I also noticed that there were about thirty portable toilets set-up at the site of the
demonstrations, and I have yet to hear of these being available on a purely spontaneous basis.”

Lulu realized that he was right again and decided to change the subject. “Well, Pongo, let’s just kick back
and really let it all hang out, as they say back in Madison. I wonder if you have noticed the special outfit
I’m wearing for you tonight.”

“Of course I have, Lulu; it’s absolutely smashing!”

“Well, Pongo, does it make you think of anything in particular?”

“It certainly does, Lulu.”

“What’s that, Pongo?” As she said this Lulu slowly undid a few more buttons on her exceptionally
revealing nightgown.

“The Cincinnati Reds,” Pongo enthusiastically responded.

***

At sunset on December 31, 1978, Ambassador Unger arranged for the Marine detachment to lower the
flag at the American Embassy in Taipei for the last time with full military honors. The commanding officer
of the Marine guard detachment then formally presented the flag to the Ambassador. The New York
Times observed,

“Inside the embassy, the traditions of unflappable diplomacy and courteous understatement are
valiantly maintained. ‘It is very distressing for people to have to go through this,’ a senior diplomat
said as he reflected on his difficult meetings with Chinese friends in recent days…”21

21
Henry Kamm, “U.S. Embassy on Taiwan, Demoted, Will Still Serve, The New York Times, January 2,
1979, p. A10.

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