Nie Weiping, the ‘Wild Warrior’ Who Restored China’s Confidence in Go
https://www.sixthtone.com/news/1018098
Nie Weiping plays Go against an amateur player in Fuzhou, Fujian
province, 2010. VCG
Sixth Tone
Fresh voices from today’s China
Victories against once-dominant
players from Japan made Nie Weiping, who died Wednesday, a national
hero, and
helped spark a boom of interest in the ancient game of Go.
By Cai Yineng
Jan 16, 20269-min read #sports

Cai Yineng Editor Cai Yineng is an editor at Sixth Tone.
In December 1974, Go player Nie Weiping
wasn’t having a great run of matches. He’d won one and lost two, all
against
middling competition. For his next game, he would take on Japan’s
Miyamoto
Naoki, a player of the highest rank who had won six consecutive
matches.
Miyamoto’s dominance was emblematic of that era. Though Go was invented
in
China some 2,500 years ago, the country had, by the ’70s, fallen behind
Japan —
embarrassingly so, some thought.
Nie was “excited and nervous,” he wrote
later, and vowed to give it his all. He played aggressively. In the
end, after
a 10-hour marathon of a match, he won — a moment that he repeatedly
recalled
was “the most memorable of his life.” The victory was to be his first
in a
string of international successes that earned Nie the title of “Sage of
Go” and
restored China’s confidence in the game, as well as beyond.
On Jan. 14, Nie Weiping died in Beijing at the age of 74, after a long career that coincided with his nation’s transformation: Nie helped turn Go into a global game, right as China reopened itself to the world.

A young Nie Weiping plays Go. From Sina Sports
Born in 1952 to industry officials, Nie
grew up watching family members play Go, a two-player game in which
each uses
their pieces — black versus white — to claim territory on a 19×19 grid.
Whoever
controls the majority of the board wins. At the age of 9, Nie and his
younger
brother taught themselves the game. By the next year, he started to
draw
attention after defeating young Go players trained at a formal academy
in
Beijing.
To the era’s communist leaders, Go was
not only a traditional art form but also a tool for cultivating
strategic
thinking and encouraging diplomatic engagement. In 1960, more than a
decade
before China and Japan normalized diplomatic relations, a Japanese Go
delegation visited the People’s Republic of China for the first time.
Go had
prospered in Japan during the 20th century, with a professional
competition
system and plentiful media coverage. During successive visits, Japanese
players’ advantage over their Chinese counterparts was so overwhelming
it was
regarded as a “national shame” in China.
In 1962, the Nie brothers were invited
to play against Chen Yi, then China’s vice premier and minister of
foreign
affairs. In his 1999 autobiography, “The Life of Go,” Nie recalled his
excitement over “mercilessly defeating” Chen, while his younger
brother, the
stronger player at the time, lost. After China detonated its first
atomic bomb
in 1964, Chen encouraged Nie to pursue the highest professional rank in
the
game — 9-dan, a level no player in China had ever reached — with the
same
determination as China had pursued its first nuclear test.

But as Nie and other young Go players
set out to catch up with the world’s best, the Cultural Revolution
erupted in
1966 and, as Nie put it, “halted the development of Chinese Go for
eight
years.” Suddenly, posters listed Go as one of the “old cultural
practices” that
were to be abolished. In 1969, along with many other students, he was
sent to
work in a remote northeastern farm. In his autobiography, he recalled
that
during this time, “he barely touched a Go board.” Yet he credited the
later
improvement of his Go skills to the mental resilience forged during
those
difficult years.
In 1971, Nie returned to Beijing. A new
job in logistics gave him the excuse to visit factories to play against
top Go
players who had been sent to work there, polishing his Go skills. As
political
conditions stabilized, in 1973, Nie and over 30 other players were
selected to
join the newly reestablished national Go team. Eager to make up for
lost time,
they studied late into the evenings, analyzing the latest game records
sent
over from Japan. Nie emerged as their leader; at the 1975 National
Games, aged
23, he became the national champion.
After his memorable defeat of Miyamoto,
Nie went on to defeat two more Japanese Go legends, earning him the
nickname
“the Nie Storm.” In China, he was awarded the highest professional
rank, 9-dan.
Yet, after these friendly matches, Nie and his peers needed an official
match
to validate China’s comeback in Go. That opportunity arrived in the
1980s, amid
China’s launch of “reform and opening-up” and the growing ties between
China
and Japan.
In 1984, two sports magazines from China
and Japan decided to jointly hold a competition between Chinese and
Japanese Go
players. At the inaugural Sino-Japanese Go Duels in 1985, sponsored by
the NEC
Corporation, each country sent their eight best players to face off in
a format
where, after the first match, the losing player is eliminated, while
the winner
faces the other country’s second player, and so on. The country that
beat all
eight of its opponents would win.
China wasn’t confident. Less than 20% of
readers of the Chinese magazine predicted their country would win. But
China
got off to a good start. While it lost the first game, Chinese player
Jiang
Zhujiu then won five consecutive games. However, Kobayashi Koichi
regained
Japan’s advantage by proceeding to win six in a row. China was on the
back
foot. Only Nie was left. Could he defeat Kobayashi and the two other
remaining
Japanese players?
By then, the duels had become far more
than a niche event. Even the national leaders in Beijing were paying
attention,
checking in with Nie to inquire about the Chinese team’s progress. The
state
television’s flagship evening news program covered the match results.
Footage
of Nie, who had congenital heart disease, using supplemental oxygen
during the
games became a nationwide memory. As Nie defeated Kobayashi and his
next opponent,
public enthusiasm surged.
On Nov. 20, 1985, 1,500 spectators had
crowded into the Beijing Gymnasium to watch Nie play Fujisawa Hideyuki,
a
legendary figure of 20th-century Japanese Go, in the tournament’s final
match —
both players were their country’s last player standing. More Go
enthusiasts
followed the game via the state television’s live broadcast. They
witnessed Nie
win a grueling seven-hour battle. Later that day, crowds gathered on
Tian’anmen
Square to celebrate two landmark Chinese victories that, by
coincidence,
occurred on the same day: Chinese Go players defeating their Japanese
counterparts for the first time in an official match, and the women’s
volleyball team winning its fourth consecutive world championship.

Nie Weiping shakes hands with Fujisawa Hideyuki after
winning the final
game, Beijing, Nov. 20, 1985. From Sina Sports

Nie Weiping and Jiang Zhujiu (right) get their trophies
after matches
with Japanese players, Beijing, Nov. 21, 1985. Cheng Zhishan/Xinhua
Nie’s victory ignited a nationwide Go
craze. Countless college students began studying Go — out of more than
just
national pride. Their enthusiasm was rooted in a genuine love for Go as
a
cultural pursuit shared by East Asians. The manuals of the Japanese
players Nie
had defeated became popular too. These students would pass their love
of Go on
to the next generation, fueling the explosion of professional Go talent
in
China during the 2000s. In a 2024 interview with Sixth Tone,
professional Go
player Zhan Ying recalled that her father,
an air force pilot who taught her the game, traced his Go passion back
to Nie.
“He could never forget seeing the news about Nie on television,” she
said. “He
was so excited.”
Another lasting impact emerged on the
international stage. Inspired by Nie’s victory, Ing Chang-ki, a
Taiwanese
industrialist, launched the Ing Cup tournament. Alongside the Fujitsu
Cup,
founded in Japan in 1988, the Ing Cup became one of the first world
professional Go tournaments, transforming the board game from a
domestic or
bilateral sport into a global phenomenon. In 1989, South Korean player
Cho
Hun-hyun won the inaugural Ing Cup, establishing the trilateral rivalry
between
Chinese, Japanese, and South Korean Go players. Professional Go was no
longer
just about defending national pride, but became a viable career,
leading to an
unprecedented surge in vitality and competitiveness within the Go
community.
In 1988, Nie reached the peak of his career
after helping the Chinese team win three consecutive editions of the
Duels.
That year, the Chinese Go Association awarded him the honorary title
of Qi Sheng, or “Sage of Go.” An
unprecedented honor, but one that also carried an implicit cost. In a
2002
interview, Nie recalled that the day
after receiving the title, he visited China’s leader Deng Xiaoping, who
told
him, “It’s not easy being a sage — being an ordinary man is better.”

Nie Weiping (right) wins the game against Japanese player
Kato Masao,
Tokyo, Japan, March 1988. Lan Hongguang/Xinhua
Deng’s words would in a way prove
prescient. Nie divorced his first wife, Kong Xiangming, also a
successful Go
player. In his autobiography, Nie describes an anecdote when someone
introduced
Kong as “Nie Weiping’s wife,” prompting her to immediately retort, “I
have my
own name. I am Kong Xiangming.” The moment made Nie feel “embarrassed,”
suggesting he could not stomach his wife’s independent personality.
On the Go board, Nie also reached a
turning point. In the 1989 Ing Cup final in Singapore, he lost 2-3. In
the
1990s, he missed another two opportunities in international
tournaments. Nie
later called his failure to win an international championship his
“greatest
regret.”
Nie compared his life to China’s
Huangguoshu Waterfall, a natural landmark. His nine consecutive
victories in
the Sino-Japanese Go Duels that made him a national hero were, in his
words,
“as spectacular as the waterfall plunging down three thousand feet,”
but his
subsequent failures meant that, “upon hitting the ground, it became a
murmuring
stream.”
But he would further cement his legacy
through education. In 1999, inspired by Japan’s Go training system, Nie
founded
China’s first professional Go academy, the Nie Weiping Go Dojo,
cultivating
talent that couldn’t secure a seat in the national team. Subsequently,
more
professional players established their own academies and trained a
generation of
post-1990 prodigies. In 2005, one of Nie’s earliest students, Chang
Hao, became
the first Chinese winner of the Ing Cup. In the 2010s, Chinese
professionals
expanded their dominance — world champions Gu Li and Ke Jie both
trained under
Nie.
Their victories no longer stirred
nationwide ecstasy. People had become accustomed to the successes of
Chinese
players. Or, as Nie put it, “after 30 years of reform and opening-up,
there are
so many things we can be proud of.”
In later years, Nie frequently appeared
on television as a Go commentator known for his harsh criticisms of
Chinese
players — including his own students. In a provocative move, he even
included
controversial interview excerpts in his autobiography, such as his
advice for
China’s chronically underperforming national men’s football team:
“Learn from
Go. Develop a broader perspective.” (On Chinese social media, Nie was
among the
most well-known football commentators, who traced his passion for
football back
to watching a match between China and the Soviet Union at the age of 7.)

Nie Weiping (left) plays against the famous martial arts
novelist Louis
Cha, once Nie student’s, Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, 2001. Luo
Xiaoguang/Xinhua
Shen Chun-shan, a Taiwanese physicist
and Go player, once contrasted Nie’s playing style with that of his
international competitors: “Japanese players enter Go academies early
and grow
steadily, like standardized products,” he wrote in the preface to Nie’s
autobiography. “Nie Weiping, on the other hand, is a wild warrior,
shaped
through self-training across desolate mountains and grand rivers.”
Unlike
Japanese-style Go matches that may last for days, Nie trained by
playing rapid
games to develop an intuitive style. Nowadays, Go matches are
time-limited, but
he believed that players who felt time pressure ultimately suffered
from an
“inability to make decisive moves at critical moments.” He considered
confidence “an absolute necessity” for players and stated that he
himself had
plenty of it. “If there is a line between confidence and arrogance,
then I
stand right on that edge — sometimes crossing it,” he wrote.
Over half a century of competing and
teaching, Nie helped revitalize the Chinese Go community and helped
bring about
the rise of the board game — and his country — on the global stage. In
the
final chapter of his life, he witnessed another profound transformation
of Go:
the rise of artificial intelligence’s integration into the game.
In 2016, DeepMind’s AlphaGo took on
South Korea’s world champion Lee Se-dol in a five-game match. Though AI
had
mastered chess and other games, Go had long been considered too complex
for
computers. Like most Go professionals at the time, Nie was initially
unimpressed by another challenge from AI against human players. But as
the
games unfolded, especially after AlphaGo made a highly creative move,
Nie
changed his mind. “I bow to AlphaGo,” he commented, believing that AI
could
teach human players. Lee managed to win just one of the five games.

Top: From left to right: Go players Ke Jie, Gu Li, Nie
Weiping and
Google CEO Sundar Pichai meet at Nie’s academy in Beijing, 2016. From
Sina
Tech; Bottom: Ke Jie (left) plays against AlphaGo, with Aja Huang as an
intermediary, while Nie Weiping hosts the game in the back row, Wuzhen,
Zhejiang province, May 2017. VCG
Soon after, AlphaGo’s upgraded version, dubbed “Master,” solidified AI’s dominance by winning 60 consecutive online matches against global top players — including against Nie’s former student Ke Jie, then the world’s top-ranked Go player. At the end of this series, it played against Nie Weiping. As the game concluded, Aja Huang, the DeepMind researcher behind “Master,” gave a voice to the machine and wrote in the comment section:
“Thank you, Mr. Nie.”
Dernière mise à jour le 20/1/26