China Golden Handshakes in Peking

By William E. Smith

PARTY SHAPES YOUNGER FUTURE headlined the English-language China Daily last week, shortly after the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party had < ended a closed meeting at Peking's Great Hall of the People. It was an unprecedented gathering, with dozens of senior officials voting "voluntarily" for their own retirement. As expected, China's leader, Deng Xiaoping, 81, had successfully cleared the way for the promotion to positions of power of some 70 of his younger loyalists. The only surprise, in fact, was the extent to which he had carried the day. All told, the party announced the retirement of ten of the 24 members of the ruling Politburo and 64 of the 340 permanent and alternate members of the Central Committee.

Among the 131 senior party officials who resigned were a few supporters of Deng's modernization drive and daring economic reforms. The majority, however, belonged to an older, revolutionary generation whose primary loyalties were to the past. Gone were half a dozen aging military men, including the ailing Marshal Ye Jianying, 88, who had helped Mao Tse-tung plan the Long March of 1934-35 (see SPECIAL SECTION). Gone too was Politburo Member Deng Yingchao, 81, the widow of Premier Chou En-lai and the country's highest-ranking woman official. Also on the retirement list were three former Ministers of Public Security, as well as such veterans of the Cultural Revolution as Wang Dongxing, 69, a onetime Mao bodyguard who in the mid-1970s rose to become a vice chairman of the party.

The most significant changes involved the People's Liberation Army, a bastion of reactionary opposition to Deng's economic and political reforms. Defense Minister Zhang Aiping, 75, though widely credited with having helped to modernize the armed forces, was dropped from the Central Committee, leading to speculation that he might soon lose his government post as well. Among other military retirees was Zhang Zhixiu, 67, former commander of Chinese forces along the Vietnamese border. Zhang had reportedly been eager to teach the Hanoi government, a bitter enemy of Peking, a military "lesson," which China had attempted less than successfully in 1979. Zhang was overruled by Deng, who was said to have feared that the general was developing a "mountain-stronghold mentality," a tendency to take matters into his own hands.

Obviously age was not the only consideration in deciding which generals should shed their uniforms. Both Chief of Staff Yang Dezhi, 75, and Peking Garrison Commander Qin Jiwei, 74, are older than some of the retirees, but both are staunchly loyal to Deng, and both remain in their posts. Generally, as in his decision earlier this year to decrease by one-fourth the 4 million- strong armed forces, Deng's aim is to reduce the power and influence of the military establishment, thereby strengthening his own leadership and programs. The process should be completed this week when the Central Committee, in another closed session, chooses the younger and for the most part better- educated Deng loyalists who will replace the retiring veterans.

From the opening of last week's party conference, only the fourth of its kind since 1921, it was clear that Deng was thoroughly in charge. As red flags outside the building snapped in a crisp autumn breeze, General Secretary Hu Yaobang, 70, told the 992 delegates that the leadership reshuffle that had begun in 1982 was now "nearly completed." Hu praised the retirees for their "exemplary role" in relinquishing their positions and suggested that "it is in response to the needs of the party that most veterans have retired."

For the same reason, he said, "a few have remained." Translation: some of the party's octogenarians, including Deng and Chen Yun, were staying on because they are "experienced revolutionaries with high prestige both inside and outside the party at home and abroad." Retiring Minister of Culture Zhu Muzhi, 69, later told newsmen that Deng and several other older leaders would definitely remain in their present positions.

What was most remarkable about the party changes was the gracious and peaceable manner in which they were carried out. There were no outright purges, no summary arrests, no instances of personal humiliation, as in Mao's time. The old-timers went quietly, praised for their work and assured that most of them would become "advisers," with the same pay and perks as before, including access to housing, cars and political documents. According to some reports, they may also have received promises that their sons or daughters would receive future party appointments. Moreover, even as veteran military leaders stepped down, the government announced a "Cherish the Army" campaign in an attempt to soften the blow to the armed forces.

Overall, the party realignment was a tribute to the skill of the consummate tactician who has led China for the past eight years. His primary motive was to secure a political environment in which his reforms can survive him. But the diplomatic skills involved were those of an old man who had himself been $ a victim of the excesses of the Cultural Revolution. Somewhere along the way, despite the anguish and humiliation inflicted upon him and his family by Mao and his Red Guards, Deng developed his ideas about revitalizing the economy, permitting a measure of political freedom and, not least, about dealing with political opposition. Culture Minister Zhu described last week's achievement as "a symbol of the maturity" of the Chinese party and thus of Deng's leadership. That still leaves the question of who will eventually succeed the durable Deng. When told last week during a visit by Singapore Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew that the world is wondering who could possibly replace him in the Chinese hierarchy, Deng reportedly laughed and replied that he had no worries on that score. "Even if the sky falls," he told his visitor, "there are people to hold it up."

With reporting by David Aikman/Washington and Jaime A. FlorCruz/Peking