Although half a world away in the United States, Robeson kept a close eye on the plight of China, a land he had never seen. He performed at a benefit concert in Philadelphia to raise funds for the CDL. On hearing that the ruling Kuomintang had enacted a blockade against the Chinese Communist Party, he strongly denounced the move. "The three-year blockade against the Chinese guerilla forces must be lifted," he said in a meeting in New York City in 1944. "The entire might and strength of China's 400 million must be united."

    On October 1, 1949, Robeson greeted the founding of the People's Republic of China with enthusiasm. He was one of the first to telegraph Chairman Mao Zedong to congratulate him, then walked through the streets with his comrades and friends, hand in hand and singing loudly, "March on, march on, and on!"

    He told the Chinese deputy in Prague it was imperative he go to China the following year. But in 1950, the American government revoked his passport, claiming that Robeson's overseas trips were not in the interest of the U.S. government. His open attachment to the Communist countries isolated Robeson from Cold War America. He was blacklisted by concert managers; his annual income went from more than US $150,000 to $6,000; his phone was tapped and his mail opened.

    "If only my heart could become a bird," he said sadly in 1952 on being told that he had been elected a vice president of the Liaison Committee for Asia and the Pacific, a Beijing-based branch of the World Peace Council. "I could fly freely, fly to China."

    In spite of the unending and hysterical McCarthyist harassment he was forced to endure, he steadfastly refused to provide the names of American Communists, or to answer before the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) whether he was, or had ever been, a party member, a question that he viewed as a violation of his Constitutional rights. "You are the un-Americans, and you ought to be ashamed of yourselves," he defiantly proclaimed.

    After eight years of struggle, Robeson received his documents back and returned to the concert stage in 1957. "You are one of the cradles of human civilization, and one of the greatest countries now and in the future," he wrote in A Letter to the Chinese People in 1958. "I eagerly wish to step on this land and pay tribute to you. I hope that day will come soon."

    But his health began to fail as a consequence of the long-term depression he was battling, a symptom of his isolation from friends and audiences. He died before ever setting foot in a land he considered a spiritual home. Robeson's wish to visit China was eventually fulfilled by his only son in 1980, four years after Robeson had passed away.

    "The Chinese people have a special connection to your family," Soong Ching Ling told Paul Robeson Jr. in Beijing. "Many cherish your father's memory, including me."