Deng Xiaoping and the Transformation of China (50 page)

If anything was sacred for Deng, it was the Chinese Communist Party. He instinctively bristled at criticism of the party and emphasized that public criticism of the party would not be tolerated. He acknowledged that “Comrade Mao, like any other man, had his defects and made errors” but he argued that Mao Zedong Thought is the “crystallization of the experience of the Chinese
people's revolutionary struggle for over half a century.” History, he said, is not made by one person, but people can respect one person.
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The unleashing of popular criticism at Democracy Wall and at the Conference on Theoretical Principles helped Deng weaken the hold of Maoist orthodoxy, which accepted a literal interpretation of everything Mao had said, and justified criticism of party errors during the previous two decades. But Deng still positioned himself personally not as one who led the attack on Mao, but rather as one who defended the greatness of Mao.

Marshal Ye's goal of unifying party thinking was not achieved because the gap between the hopes of the liberal intellectuals and the fears of the stalwart conservatives proved too large to bridge with a gentlemanly consensus based on open discussions.
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In the end, Deng attempted to impose unity from above—with an authoritative statement underpinned by the power of the state. As a reluctant witness to the divisions within the party, Deng was convinced that China was not yet ready to achieve national unity without some measure of coercion. After Deng's speech on March 30, the conference broke up into twelve small groups where the participants discussed for three days how to implement Deng's message.

On April 3 in his closing speech at the conference, Hu Yaobang, a disciplined party member, expressed his full support for Deng's position on the four cardinal principles.
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But those who had heard Hu Yaobang during the first part of conference knew that he personally would have preferred a more open society and that he believed the nation would not be thrown into disorder if different views could be expressed more freely.
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Although Deng and Hu shared a commitment to modernization and continued to work together, their differences on where to draw the lines of freedom continued to fester, eventually leading to Deng's decision in 1987 to remove Hu from his position.

As reasoned as Deng's speech seemed to party leaders, to intellectuals the underlying message was disturbing: the boundaries of freedom were narrowed. Democracy Wall did not officially close down, but the chilling effect of Deng's speech—along with the arrest of Wei Jingsheng and the intimidation of people who continued to hang posters—brought an end to Democracy Wall and to hopes for a genuine hundred flowers in the cultural field. Those who had hoped for more freedom could not easily forget the heady moments of exuberance at Democracy Wall and the thoughtful intellectual explorations at the theory work conference. Intellectuals at the CASS and elsewhere were silenced, but many were not persuaded of the wisdom of the new policy.

The new, more conservative line emanating from Deng's four cardinal principles rippled across the media, as conference participants and others struggled to adapt to the new political reality. A
People's Daily
editorial of May 5 stated, “Some people think that democracy means they can do whatever they want. . . . What we advocate is democracy under the guidance of centralism.”
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Lower-level officials issued propaganda based on the new narrower lines about what was permissible.
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Many intellectuals were deeply disappointed at the limitations on their freedom, but Deng's reaction was far more restrained than Mao's attack on intellectuals had been in 1957. Deng knew he needed their cooperation to achieve modernization. Following his enunciation of the four cardinal principles, intellectuals became more cautious about criticizing the party in public, but only a relatively small number of intellectuals were criticized, humiliated, or removed from their positions. Some of the best-known critics were allowed to travel and stay abroad from where they continued to speak out.
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Indeed, the long-term trend between 1978 and 1992 was toward expanding the space for free discussion. Though upset at the sometimes clumsy and arbitrary efforts to enforce the boundaries of free expression, the general public, as well as intellectuals, continued to seek opportunities to push back the boundaries that constrained their freedom. It was impossible to set the boundaries of free expression once and for all. To allow new ideas to be tried out and to secure the cooperation of intellectuals, Deng needed to allow a larger measure of freedom than was permitted before 1978.

At the end of October 1979, at the Fourth Congress of Literature and the Arts, Deng managed to articulate this delicate balance of freedom and control in such a way that retained the support or at least the passive acceptance of most intellectuals while rebuffing any attacks he judged might threaten party authority. When preparing his speech to the Congress on Literature and the Arts, Deng's staff showed a draft copy to Zhou Yang, the cultural czar in the 1950s who in the late 1970s had become a champion of greater freedom for intellectuals. Zhou Yang advised Deng not to give a long speech; following Zhou Yang's suggestion, Deng gave a short, simple greeting of congratulations in which he praised the creativity of Chinese people in the arts, affirmed their progress in the 1950s, criticized the restrictions on freedoms imposed by Lin Biao and Jiang Qing, and said he looked forward to continued advances in the cultural sphere. His speech received warm and enthusiastic applause from people in the literary world, even from those who remained upset at his speech on the four cardinal principles.
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Unlike Mao in 1957,
Deng in 1979 did not lose the support of mainstream intellectuals. Many who complained privately about the arbitrariness of government restrictions continued to work actively for the four modernizations. But throughout his rule and until he stepped down in 1992, Deng would face a continuing tug-of-war over the boundaries of freedom.
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On June 4, 1989, this tug-of-war would lead to tragedy.

In mid-1977, when Deng once again became responsible for China's national security and foreign affairs, he faced two overriding concerns: defending China against threats from the Soviet Union and Vietnam, and laying the groundwork to enlist foreign help for China's modernization.
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To reduce the danger from the Soviet military, he sought to firm up relations with China's neighbors and to block Soviet advances. For help with modernization, he turned to Japan and the United States. In pursuing these goals, for fourteen months beginning in January 1978 Deng undertook a whirlwind tour of more countries than he had visited in his entire lifetime. During these trips he improved relations with China's continental neighbors, opened China far more widely than it had been opened at any time since 1949, and set China on an irreversible course of active participation in international affairs and in the worldwide exchange of ideas. In five trips abroad, he visited Burma (renamed Myanmar after 1989), Nepal, North Korea, Japan, Malaysia, Thailand, Singapore, and the United States. During these fourteen months, Deng also concluded a Treaty of Peace and Friendship with Japan, negotiated the normalization of relations with the United States, and led China into a war in Vietnam.

Deng Inherits the Foreign Policy Mantle

When Deng returned to party work in the summer of 1977, he did not seek responsibility for foreign affairs. At one point he even said that he preferred not to take on the job because it was taxing. But China needed Deng to man
age foreign affairs. Not only had he been at Mao's or Zhou Enlai's side in meeting foreign leaders for almost three decades, but he himself had been in charge of foreign affairs from mid-1973 to the end of 1975, under the tutelage of both Mao and Zhou. His colleagues recognized that after Zhou Enlai's death, no other leader could compare with Deng in terms of knowledge of foreign affairs, strategic thinking, personal relationships with foreign leaders, and skill in building goodwill abroad while firmly defending China's interests. Diplomats like Huang Hua, who replaced Qiao Guanhua as foreign minister in December 1976, had extensive knowledge of other countries and of past negotiations.
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But China's diplomats lacked the confidence to make important political judgments and the stature to meet top foreign leaders as equals.

Foreign policy had long been a central focus of the top Communist Party leaders. Mao and Zhou in particular had been towering world-class strategists, confident in dealing with the world's other leaders as equals. Though China remained relatively closed before 1978, Mao and Zhou gave foreign affairs a great deal of attention, and they both took personal responsibility for guiding policy. When Mao met foreigners, he exuded imperial confidence and talked of philosophy, history, and literature, as well as of the raw dynamics of world power. When Zhou met with foreigners at home and abroad, he was erudite, elegant, charming, nuanced, considerate of his guests, and ready to discuss details as well as to paint the big picture.

Like Mao and Zhou, Deng possessed an instinctive national loyalty, a strategic vision, and an underlying toughness in pursuing national interests. When meeting foreigners, Deng, like Mao and Zhou, not only covered an agenda, but also tried to size up his visitor's character and objectives. Deng, however, was more systematic—as well as more direct and straightforward—than Mao or Zhou in focusing on the major issues of concern to China. Before meeting a foreign guest, he did not receive an oral briefing; he wanted to read a memo from his staff about the visitor, the purpose of the trip, and what topics should be covered. As with Mao and Zhou, the foreign visitors often met a Chinese diplomat first, and the diplomat could pass to Deng a memo about the visitors' concerns before Deng met them.

Foreign diplomats in Beijing respected Deng greatly and saw in him someone with whom they could work. He became a favorite of foreign visitors for his wit, intensity, disarming frankness, and desire to solve problems. George H. W. Bush, who saw him often in 1975 when he headed the U.S. Liaison Office in Beijing, once said, “He had an intense demeanor and talked with a
bluntness that left no doubt about his meaning.”
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Huang Hua, who sat in on many sessions with Mao, Zhou Enlai, and Deng when they met foreign leaders, said of Deng, “He was good at grasping major issues, understanding and expounding briefly the essence of a problem in a profound way, and making judgments and decisions in a resolute and straightforward way.”
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Unlike Mao, who harbored visions of grandeur for China that exceeded its power and leverage, Deng remained realistic in acknowledging China's weaknesses and backwardness. But Deng also had an underlying confidence: he knew that he was representing an enormous country with an extraordinarily long history as a great civilization, and he drew strength not only from his own success in overcoming personal challenges, but also from his broad knowledge of domestic and international affairs. Unlike some Soviet leaders, he did not attempt to impress foreigners from more modern countries, even if they towered over him. Instead, Deng engaged foreign leaders as partners in solving problems and soon got down to the issues at hand. Lacking any psychological hang-ups, he could firmly resist, without becoming defensive or nasty, any foreign pressures that he judged were not in keeping with China's interests.

Deng had not always displayed such confidence. When he first visited New York in 1974 to speak to the United Nations, Deng sounded cautious and uncomfortably formal, for he knew that his staff would report back to Mao what he said and did. Deng continued to be careful during 1975, because on all important foreign policy issues he still needed to obtain Mao's final approval. As even Deng acknowledged, Zhou Enlai's knowledge and experience far surpassed his own. After Mao and Zhou died, however, Deng could negotiate with foreign leaders without worrying about the views of others. When he returned to take charge of foreign affairs in mid-1977 Deng continued the policies he had been carrying out in 1975. But foreign officials who met Deng after July 1977 found him more spontaneous and confident, more willing to express his opinions on a broad range of foreign policy issues.

From July 1977 until late 1979, in his conversations with foreign leaders Deng spoke respectfully of “Chairman Hua.” But from the time Deng returned in 1977, these foreign guests harbored no doubts that Deng was the one in charge of foreign policy. He functioned not only as China's negotiator, but also as its grand strategist. And although he read the reports from diplomats, for important decisions he relied more heavily on his own seasoned judgment. Deng could be relaxed, with a sure-footed understanding of how
the topic at hand related to overall strategy and confidence in his own ability to deal with his counterparts. Over time Deng developed his own characteristic style in conducting meetings with foreigners. He would begin with a few witty remarks to welcome his foreign guests and then shift to focus on the main issues he wanted to address, making his points directly, clearly, and forcefully.

The Soviet Union as the Main Enemy

In his strategic analysis, Deng's starting point was the same as Mao's: identify the main enemy, cultivate allies against the main enemy, neutralize the enemy's allies, and draw them away from the enemy. By 1969, it was clear that the Soviet Union had replaced the United States as China's main enemy. In July of that year, President Nixon, in Guam, announced that the United States would not become involved in a land war in Asia. Also, following border clashes between China and the Soviet Union in March and August, Sino-Soviet relations remained very tense.