December 10, 2011

Deng Xiaoping’s legacy: The great stabiliser

The definitive biography of a diminutive giant of the 20th century

Deng Xiaoping and the Transformation of China. By Ezra Vogel. Belknap Press; 928 pages; $39.95 and £29.95. Buy from Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk

EARLIER this year, as the Arab spring blew through the Middle East, nervous Chinese officials were heard asking Western diplomats and journalists whether they thought (off the record) that China would be next. As it turns out, China has been left unfazed by this mutinous trend for reasons ranging from internet censorship to the swift arrests of dissidents. But one important damper on protest has been in the works for a while: China’s massive economic growth over the past few decades has left enough people satisfied with the system for now. Also, the country does not have a cultish figure like Hosni Mubarak or Colonel Muammar Qaddafi to act as a lightning rod for dissent.

For this the Chinese Communist Party has to thank a little chain-smoking man who died nearly a decade and a half ago: Deng Xiaoping, the paramount leader from 1978 to 1992. Ezra Vogel’s new biography portrays Deng as not just the maker of modern China, but one of the most substantial figures in modern history.

If Chairman Mao was the architect of an assertive, socialist China, Deng pulled off the even tougher feat of reversing most of what Mao had done and calling it “socialism”. Mr Vogel, a professor emeritus at Harvard University, has written a meticulously researched book that concentrates mainly on the story from the mid-1970s to the 1990s. He could have subtitled the book not the “transformation” but the “stabilisation” of China, as he describes Deng’s impressive calming strategy at home and abroad. Deng placated the near and not-so-near neighbours whom Mao had angered or terrified, continuing his unfinished diplomacy with America (leading to one of history’s most incongruous photo-ops as Deng donned a big cowboy hat), and mending bridges with the Soviet Union. A messy war with Vietnam in 1979 was the exception that proved the rule of avoiding military confrontation.

On the domestic front, Deng established free-trade zones, dismantled collective farms and wooed foreign capital. This represented a breathtaking ideological reversal, which Deng characterised pragmatically, because the party had no money to spare: “We will give you a policy that allows you to charge ahead and cut through your own difficult road.” And in the aftermath of the Beijing spring of 1989, when conservatives in the leadership tried to chill the pace of reform, Deng struck out by taking a “vacation” in China’s free-trade zones. His aim was to kick-start the economic growth that was heading toward double digits by the time he died in 1997. He missed by a few months the handover of Hong Kong from Britain to China, which he had negotiated, and which burnished his nationalist credentials.

Deng also dismantled the cult of leadership that had culminated in Mao’s Cultural Revolution. Ironically, he used his own strength of personality to diminish the importance of a charismatic leader. His successor, Jiang Zemin, was chosen for his technocratic skills and ability to compromise, not for his charm. Deng’s work habits helped manage this transition from Maoist political culture. His regular morning schedule was breakfast at 8am, followed by assiduous reading of ministerial reports, 15 domestic newspapers and a range of (translated) foreign press materials. The quest for total knowledge, along with his own revolutionary credentials, enabled him to outmanoeuvre colleagues who wanted to preserve their own fiefdoms within the leadership. Deng initiated China’s system of regular political succession, which is expected to see another transition of power in October next year.

Mr Vogel knows China’s elites extremely well, not least because of his years as an intelligence officer in East Asia for the Clinton administration. This book is bolstered by insider knowledge and outstanding sources, such as interviews with Deng’s interpreters. But this vantage tends to give Deng the benefit of the doubt, and the author works hard to diminish the stain on his reputation left by the notorious killings in Tiananmen Square in 1989. Mr Vogel points out that other developing economies such as South Korea engaged in state violence of a comparable scale at the time.

Although Deng commendably brought stability to China, violence was central to his formation. As Roderick Macfarquhar and Michael Schoenhals (a former Harvard colleague of Mr Vogel’s) have shown in their epic book “Mao’s Last Revolution”, Deng was responsible for purges in the later years of the Cultural Revolution that matched the Gang of Four for brutality. In 1975 he ordered the army to crack down on a Muslim village in Yunnan province, an action which resulted in 1,600 deaths including those of 300 children. Deng’s response to the student and worker protests 14 years later was hardly out of character.

Much of this book contains previously unheard and highly indiscreet quotations. For example, Deng thought Mikhail Gorbachev was an “idiot”, according to one of his sons. So this tome is unlikely to be published in China anytime soon. Still, the manuscript was read by Chinese political insiders for accuracy, making this the definitive account of Deng in any language. Mr Vogel eloquently makes the case for Deng’s crucial role in China’s transformation from an impoverished and brutalised country into an economic and political superpower. Three and a half decades after Mao’s death, the next generation of Chinese will have no personal memory of the little man from Guang’an County in Sichuan province. All the same, they will be Deng Xiaoping’s children.
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