The Army's Man

The two high points of a foreign VIP's visit to Peking used to be an airport greeting by Premier Chou En-lai and the "cordial conversation" with Chairman Mao Tse-tung. Now there is a third. In recent weeks, ranking visitors from Rumania and North Korea have met not only Mao and Chou but also General Huang Yung-sheng, 64, Chief of Staff of China's People's Liberation Army. Last week when the heads of state of South Yemen and the Sudan came to town, Huang acted as co-host with Chou, who has accorded the general a rare compliment. Said Chou: "We do not have many persons like him in the country."

Chou should know. In a country where Mao once said that "the gun must never be allowed to command the party," the army has, in fact, taken almost complete control. China watchers in Hong Kong reckon Huang now to be the second most powerful military man in China, after Defense Minister Lin Piao, who is Mao's heir apparent.

Peking Pentagon. Huang's own career reflects the rise of the military in the wake of the catastrophic Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution. When Mao launched the revolution in 1966, he hoped to smash the old order and build a new society that would rest partly on the army, partly on a reinvigorated party, and partly on a new generation of Maoist youth. But the rampaging Red Guards left China in such a shambles that Mao was forced to call in the troops, not only to restore order but also to administer the country. Now the army shows no readiness to surrender its political preeminence.

Army commanders in the field have paid only lip service to calls by civilian politicians in Peking for a return to party rule. In fact, in recent weeks civilian party chairmen have been ousted from the ruling revolutionary committees in Shantung, Shansi and Kweichow provinces. As a result, 27 of China's 29 provinces are now under what amounts to military rule. In Peking, where the military holds more than half of the 21 posts in the Politburo, army men preside over both the formulation and execution of policy.

The army's rise to power is largely a result of the keen ambition of Lin Piao. The longtime defense chief knows full well that his chances of succeeding Mao some day depend on close ties with the army commanders in the provinces. It became Huang's task, when Lin promoted him to Chief of Staff 15 months ago, to strengthen those ties. Along the way, Huang has been making some ties of his own. To sidestep the aging marshals in the Peking Pentagon known as the Military Affairs Commission, Huang set up a small administrative office, from which he and a group of supporters effectively run the army. In serving Lin, who is ailing and rarely seen in public these days, Huang of course serves his own future.

Huang was one of the original 400 revolutionaries who survived Mao's abortive 1927 "Autumn Harvest Uprising" and fled with him into the Ching-kang mountains to form the nucleus of the Red Army in China. During years of Japanese invasion and civil war. Huang often served under Lin. As commander of the Canton military region in the turbulent summer of 1967. Huang was one of the first army men to speak out against the excesses of the Cultural Revolution. He openly supported the conservatives, declaring that "from now on, we must have a clear-cut attitude. We cannot play ball with both sides." When "Red Flag" radicals pledged to smash his Canton headquarters. Huang ordered his troops to open fire on the young fanatics, ignoring the fact that they were the particular darlings of Mao's wife Chiang Ching. Huang was summoned to Peking to confess his errors, but the following spring he was promoted to Chief of Staff.

Diplomatic Touch. As army chief, Huang has become an obvious rival to Chou Enlai, whose own power has declined along with that of the party and the civilian government. Personally, the two men could hardly be more dissimilar. Chou is urbane and sophisticated. Huang, born to a farm family in central Hupei province, seems to glory in a sort of peasant earthiness, much as Mao does. He likes to brag about his lack of book learning. "Even if you turn me inside out, you won't be able to find a drop of ink," he says. Huang normally smothers his meals in red peppers (the Hupei version of catsup), but in his Canton days he did develop a taste for a few southern delicacies, notably snake broth and dog meat.

Since coming to Peking, Huang has learned to cope with the formalities of diplomatic ceremonies, though he still has to watch Chou to find out where to stand and when to speak. A recent foreign visitor was astonished to see Huang, at an airport reception, standing at attention in uniform, apparently unaware of the blue-and-white-striped pajamas sticking out of his trouser legs.

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