Friday, Feb. 03, 1967

High Invective

"Filthy Soviet revisionist swine!" cried the Peking People's Daily. In Moscow itself, the Chinese charge d'affaires, An Chih-yuan, called his hosts "paper tigers" and warned ominously: "The day will come when we will make the Soviet revisionists repay their blood debts." Since Mao Tse-tung launched his Cultural Revolution, the scale of invective that has long marked relations between Red China and the Soviet Union has risen to new heights of shrillness. Last week, however, even the versatile Chinese language, which lends itself naturally to invective and exaggeration, seemed hardly equal to the task of expressing the rage that the Chinese feel toward Moscow. The latest outburst was the result of a very curious incident that occurred right in the epicenter of world Communism, Moscow's Red Square. There, 69 Chinese students, en route home from European universities to join the Red Guards, stopped off to place a wreath on Stalin's grave, reading from their little red Mao-think books and singing Maoist hymns. The two onetime allies gave their own versions of what happened next. Said the Chinese: "A large number of Soviet troops, policemen and plainclothesmen attacked them from all sides and beat them up. More than 30 were injured, and more than ten of them were struck down. Four of them were critically injured." Said the Soviet government: "The Chinese students rudely violated the regulations for visits, resorted to force and engaged in provocative activities."

No Excuse Needed. The episode fell like a spark on the dried-up timber of Sino-Soviet relations. As the Chinese students continued on their way, some of them conspicuously swathed in bandages, the Chinese embassy lodged "the most serious and strongest protest" and demanded that "the Soviet government publicly apologize." The entire staff of the Moscow embassy held a meeting to condemn the "fascist atrocity." In Peking, Russia's embassy was soon surrounded by a nonstop demonstration of Chinese students and soldiers in an ugly mood. Premier Chou En-lai and Foreign Minister Chen Yi sent a cable promising the students a triumphant return to Peking. The Chinese Foreign Ministry, in an elaborate attack, said: "Since we dread neither heaven nor earth, neither devils nor gods, how can we possibly dread you, a few flies freezing to death in the whirling snow?" The Chinese made so much of the incident that many observers felt that they had purposely staged it to give themselves an excuse to take further steps against Russians in China. They hardly needed an excuse. The two governments are denouncing each other with such frequency--and often taking action to match the denunciations--that the Sino-Soviet rift has become a fact of history far more firmly established than the Sino-Soviet bloc ever was. Last week, for example, a meeting of Soviet trade unions branded Mao Tse-tung as "chauvinist, nationalist, anti-Leninist, anti-working class and anti-people." Peking replied that it would "sweep away all vermin, be it U.S. imperialism or Soviet revisionism." The feud has virtually evaporated all ties save diplomatic relations. Students from both countries have returned to their homelands. The last Soviet Friendship Delegation to China, in November, was an exercise in hostility rather than hospitality. Russian and East European journalists have been roughed up with such monotonous regularity in China that they now "just stay indoors." Both sides have made appeals for the overthrow of the other's regime. Neither side is above pettiness. The Russians have accused Mao of being a lousy, unreadable poet; they sometimes pull out the microphone plugs when Chinese are speaking at international meetings and house the Chinese delegations in old and elevatorless hotels. Anti-China Courses. The situation along the 4,150-mile Sino-Soviet border has long been touchy (TiME, Dec. 2). Last week U.S. Defense Secretary Robert McNamara reported that the Soviet Union is "strengthening its military posture in response to serious border problems with China." From 13 to 23 highly mobile and missile-equipped Soviet army divisions stationed on the border are gradually being brought up to reinforced strength. The Russian leadership is conducting a country-wide indoctrination program to make sure that every Soviet serviceman and citizen understands that the enemy lies at his door to the East. Party Secretary Leonid Brezhnev lectured party leaders in Moscow, Donetsk and Gorky; President Nikolai Podgorny hit Kazan and Sverdlovsk. Premier Aleksei Kosygin briefed the Pacific Fleet last month, and dropped in to give his blessing to schoolchildren taking special anti-China courses recommended "as a model" for all Russia. The Russian chief of staff and a top missile commander toured Eastern Siberia, and Deputy Premier Dmitry Poliansky hit the "hate-China" hustings as well. It was an extraordinary whirl of activity, reflecting Russia's growing alarm over China's "new, dangerous stage."

For four years Moscow has been maneuvering, so far unsuccessfully, for a grand conference of the world's 90-odd Communist parties that would unseat China everywhere as a member in good standing in the Red world community. All but a few of the other Red nations and parties probably agree in private with the Russians, but they have gained considerable freedom of action as a result of the Sino-Soviet split and are not in a hurry to give it up by designating the Soviet Union as the absolute ruler of the Communist world. Few Western analysts think that china and Russia are close to fighting But there is one intriguing question to ponder. Having openly advocated Mao's overthrow, the Kremlin must wonder what to do if Mao's enemies in China should suddenly appeal for Russian arms and aid. Then what has so far been largely a war of words might become an Armageddon at the summit ol the Communist world.

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