Now, in Living Color from China

AT last the three years of secret diplomacy, the seven months of public anticipation, and the frantic final hours of official preparation were over. The doors had swung open on a new policy of dialogue between China and the U.S., two world powers that had refused to talk to each other for nearly 25 years. Despite the President's repeated comparison of his trip to the Apollo 11 flight, Peking is too much a part of this world to be the moon, and a presidential jet is far safer and more comfortable than a space capsule. Yet this too was a historic adventure, an uncertain portent for mankind's future.

The President's air of exhilaration was apparent even before the helicopter lifted his party off the White House grounds to begin the 11,510-mile journey to Peking. As he and Pat walked past a score of congressional and Cabinet leaders in an unusual red-carpet sendoff, Nixon repeatedly poked officials jovially in the ribs, bent close to whisper remarks that newsmen could not overhear, laughed at the banter. Yet he was restrained as he described his mission's goal to some 8,000 spectators, including 1,500 schoolchildren bused into Washington for the occasion. "We must recognize that the government of the People's Republic of China and the Government of the United States have had great differences," Nixon said. "We will have differences in the future. But what we must do is to find a way to see that we can have differences without being enemies in war."

100 Reels. Although Nixon was to set foot in China during a 50-minute rest and refueling stop in Shanghai, where he would pick up a Chinese navigator, interpreter and radio operator for the 710-mile final leg to Peking, the first public ceremony was to be at the Peking airport. Conveniently timed for mass TV viewing Sunday night in the U.S.--Monday morning in Peking--this would be the first of the television spectaculars on a mission in which television rated a high priority in the White House planning. Although the White House refused to confirm any details, it was certain that Premier Chou En-lai would meet Nixon at the airport, and TV screens then would record a strange sight: Nixon, the champion of capitalism, riding with Chou in an official black Hongchi (Red Flag) car and entering Tienanmen Square. There they would pass the ancient scarlet walls of China's imperial past and the Gate of Heavenly Peace, from which Chairman Mao Tse-tung in 1949 proclaimed the birth of the People's Republic.

Television crews were elaborately prepared to follow Nixon's movements throughout a busy week. The program was to include two state dinners in China's Great Hall of the People, one given by the U.S. (although the Chinese would supply the food and the U.S. only the champagne and cigarettes). There would possibly be two meetings with Mao, one in Hangchow at week's end when the Nixons and the Chairman may go boating on mist-shrouded West Lake. Nixon will meet Chou daily in working sessions, then he and Pat will be entertained in the evenings, probably at a Chinese opera and a gymnastic or other athletic exhibition. In the talks, both sides will be well supported by unsung experts (see opposite page).

The 13-hour time difference meant that many of the events will occur while the U.S. viewing public sleeps, so the U.S. television crews were equipped with some 100 reels of videotape. About 40 tons of electronic equipment and 73 U.S. technicians have been in China for three weeks. They set up broadcast facilities including a 20-ton ground station at the Peking airport which transmits signals to Intelsat IV, a $19.5 million cylinder established in final orbit over the Pacific only last month. The signals are picked up by a receiving station in Jamesburg, Calif., and sent by wire and microwave to New York. Much of the live coverage will be pooled, but the networks will buy added exclusive time (at $8,300 an hour) to put the faces of their own commentators on the air.

Wiping Hands. The media preparations have been carefully tailored by the White House to keep the spotlight on the principals and away from any diversions. The White House vetoed a State Department offer to supply an expert to help reporters interpret Chinese signs and culture. The omission of the State Department's respected press spokesman, Robert McCloskey, apparently was designed to keep the White House in control of the news. Nor did Nixon invite any politicians--for example, Senate Democratic Leader Mike Mansfield or Republican Leader Hugh Scott, both students of China--perhaps fearing that they would diffuse the news focus. Yet a glaring inequity in the press arrangement was the large number of television executives along as "technicians." NBC, for example, readily admitted that its five "technicians" in Peking include a London-based news producer, a news vice president, a Tokyo radio production manager and a New York producer.

The intensive preparations on both sides of the Pacific involved detailed briefings for officials. Americans were instructed never to offer a toast with water, always to deal in a friendly manner with the Chinese. Chinese leaders cautioned their own people against wiping their hands with a handkerchief after shaking hands with Americans.

Indeed, even the matter of the gifts that Nixon will present the Chinese leaders underwent intense study and secrecy precautions. But some details were revealed last week. Nixon will give the Chinese people a pair of rare musk oxen, named Milton and Matilda, from the San Francisco zoo, much wanted by its Peking counterpart. He will give Mao a volume of photographs of U.S. wilderness vistas compiled by the Park Service.

Police Party. The difficulty of trying to shift national gears suddenly from confrontation to conciliation was dramatically demonstrated last week. With odd timing, Admiral Thomas H. Moorer, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, warned that China was well on its way to becoming "the third most important nuclear power in the world." The U.S., he said, must have the ability to wage nuclear war against both China and the Soviet Union at the same time. Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird also reported that the Chinese now have a few medium-range missiles (500 to 1,000 miles, by some estimates), some intermediate-range missiles (up to 2,000 miles) and should have an intercontinental missile (3,000 to 6,000 miles) by 1975. Nor does China find it any easier--or perhaps any more desirable--suddenly to turn about its longtime criticism of what a Peking radio broadcast last week called the U.S. "policies of aggression and war of imperialism."

Despite this sweet-and-sour ap proach, there were signs that both powers were trying to be agreeable. Nixon announced that he had ordered relaxation of trade restrictions that would put China on the same basis with the U.S. as the Soviet Union. The Chinese delegation to the United Nations held an unusual party for New York City police to express appreciation for protection provided by the cops since the delegation's arrival in November. At home, China's leaders lifted a ban against the sale of some classic books by Western thinkers, creating crowds in Peking bookstores; the writers included Rousseau, Kant--and Adam Smith.

50 Years. Nixon's critics also had their say. With what looked like partisan craftiness--or recklessness--the Democratic National Committee's weekly newsletter suggested that Nixon may be planning another smashing surprise by settling the Viet Nam War while he is in Peking. It envisioned "a secret summit of leaders from the Asian Communist nations" meeting with Nixon. As supporting evidence, the newsletter claimed that Hanoi's Le Due Tho will be in Peking at the sametime as Nixon. Secretary of State William Rogers knocked down the idea. The Democrats seemed to be building up expectations, presumably hoping to benefit from the disappointment if no such settlement occurs.

But the Nixon "journey for peace" has earned broad approval in the U.S., even if nothing dramatic emerges. A lonely demurrer was offered last week by former Under Secretary of State George Ball. Writing under the title "Is This Trip Necessary?" in the New York Times Magazine, he warned that "there is nothing more dangerous than to rest the relations between states too heavily on the capricious interaction of diverse personalities."

Perhaps the most intriguing assessment of the Nixon visit came early in the week when France's grand old man of literature, Andre Malraux, was a White House guest. Claiming that Chairman Mao is now more interested in raising the Chinese standard of living than in promoting revolution, Malraux called Nixon's overture "noble" and "courageous" and "vitally important to world peace." He too warned against expecting instant results. He told Nixon: "Nobody will know whether you're successful for 50 years." Replied the President: "I know that. The American people and I can be patient too."

In historical terms, both men may be right. But in more immediate--and political terms--Nixon, at least, is wrong. Relatively few Americans, and even fewer Democratic candidates for President, are likely to wait 50 years before offering their opinions on what Richard Nixon accomplished in Peking. Unfairly or not, that assessment will begin the moment The Spirit of '76 heads home.

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