Monday, Oct. 11, 1971
More Pieces in the Chinese Puzzle
NO date on the Chinese calendar is more sacred than Oct. 1, when Peking celebrates the final triumph of Mao Tse-tung's army over the Nationalists in 1949. But last week, for the first time in 22 years, there was no lavish National Day banquet, no parade through Tienanmen Square, no ringing editorials, no pecking-order appearance by Chairman Mao and the Chinese leadership atop the massive Gate of Heavenly Peace. For the watching world, there was also no explanation--only occasional half-hearted denunciations by Radio Peking of what it mocked as "rumormongering by the capitalists and revisionists."
Peking was unwilling or unable to clear up the strange events that had overtaken the regime on the eve of its most important annual celebration. Most outside experts were still convinced that the mystery reflected a struggle for power within the Forbidden City, one that could eventually affect China's new outward-looking foreign policy, or Richard Nixon's trip, or other developments in progress. Instead of falling into place, however, the pieces of the Chinese puzzle seemed only to multiply.
Notable Absence. The mystery began to develop three weeks ago with the sudden and almost simultaneous disappearance from public view of all the important military chiefs, most of the 21-member Politburo and the bulk of the Chinese air force, which was grounded on Sept. 13 and has yet to return to normal operations. The Chinese Foreign Ministry subsequently announced that the usual National Day hoopla would be scrapped "for reasons of economy." That did not seem to apply to China's embassies and missions round the world; they celebrated the big day with unprecedentedly lavish parties, including a bash in Geneva that featured 500 guests and a ten-course dinner.
Early last week Chinese TV viewers were urged to tune in, please, for "an important news program" to be aired next day. But the promised telecast was postponed twice, and when the big announcement came at midweek, it only deepened the mystery: like the Tienanmen parade, the great state banquet, which is always hosted by Premier Chou En-lai on the eve of National Day, would also be scrapped. Instead, a perfunctory reception took place that was notable for the absence of any Chinese officials higher in rank than doddering old Vice Chairman Tung Pi-wu, 85.
Sensational Role. What is behind the mystery? Little weight is now given to early speculation that the crisis had been set off by the death or illness of Mao, though he is 77 and a reputed sufferer from Parkinson's disease. Nor do Sinologists believe that his tuberculous heir apparent, Defense Minister and Vice Chairman Lin Piao, 65, has died. Mao, it is true, has not been seen in public since August, and Lin was last seen in June. But Chinese diplomats insist that the top two men in the party hierarchy are in reasonably good health.
The most sensational possibility to surface last week was that a high-level defector might have a role in the political turmoil. The Soviet news agency Tass picked up a Mongolian dispatch concerning the crash "for unknown reasons" of a Chinese air force jet in northeast Mongolia only 60 miles from the Soviet border. The crash took place on the night of Sept. 12--the day before the air force was so suddenly grounded. Nine charred bodies, several weapons and unspecified "documents" were found in the wreckage.
Could the documents have been secret papers intended to ensure a warm reception for an important Chinese defector? One theory had it that the defector was former President Liu Shaochi, who had been in detention since he was purged as a pro-Soviet "revisionist" in 1967 during the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution. Another candidate was Air Force Commander Wu Fahsien, a Politburo member who is on the outs with moderates because of his association with the wildest of the Red Guard units during the Cultural Revolution. As an ultraleftist, of course, Wu would hardly expect a warm welcome from as revisionist a country as the Soviet Union. Nonetheless, the official People's Daily added support to the defector theory last week with an article attacking unnamed people who "turned their coats."
Scoring Well. If there was indeed an attempted defection, it would be a symptom, not a cause of the political jousting in Peking. Most probably, that jousting is bound up with the recently intensified efforts by army pragmatists and government moderates to rid the party of the leftist radicals who came to power during the Cultural Revolution. One indication that the moderates are winning is the prominence of China's astute Premier Chou. Most of China's leaders have been making themselves scarce. Chou has been out in public nearly every day. He was the only member of the top leadership to venture out on National Day, when he led Cambodia's exiled Prince Norodom Sihanouk on a tour of the grand Summer Palace on the outskirts of Peking.
Chou is scoring well outside China, too. Last week Canada and Iceland joined the growing list of countries that plan to reject the U.S. "two China" plan and vote for the seating of the Peking regime as the sole representative of China in the United Nations. It would be ironic if, after two decades of waiting, Mao's regime were to enter the U.N. in the midst of a period of great domestic upheaval.
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