Unsettled succession: China's critical moment.

• Author: Dickson, Bruce J.

Who will be the next leader of China? This question has been a perpetual preoccupation of scholars and journalists for decades, and the reason is clear: In one form or another, the succession issue has been the central drama of Chinese politics almost since the beginning of the People's Republic in 1949. The absence of institutionalized procedures for selecting China's top leader led to the most serious political conflicts of the Maoist era: the Gao Gang-Rao Shushi episode of 1954, resulting in the "suicide" of one and the disappearance of another of two leading figures; the Cultural Revolution and its attack on Mao's supposed successor Liu Shaoqi; the Lin Biao affair, culminating in deadly plane crash of another of Mao's designated successors; and the arrest of the "Gang of Four" a month after Mao's death.

The Deng Xiaoping era has also seen its share of political intrigue as succession arrangements unraveled: first when Hua Guofeng and other Cultural Revolution beneficiaries were outmaneuvered by reformers in the early 1980s; later when Hu Yaobang lost Deng's favor and was forced into retirement in 1987; and most recently when Zhao Ziyang similarly lost Deng's confidence and was removed from his posts in the wake of the pro-democracy movement of 1989. Reports of infighting and jockeying for power among the five or six likely successors to Deng continued thereafter, fueling the perception that the succession issue was among the most - if not the most - serious problems of Chinese politics.

And then, finally, on February 19, 1997, Deng died - and nothing happened. Mourners did not march on Tiananmen Square, turning the death of a leader into a protest against remaining leaders, as occurred after the deaths of Zhou Enlai in 1976 and Hu Yaobang in 1989. Nor did one faction of leaders arrest its opponents, as happened after Mao died in 1976. There was no massive public grieving or disruption of everyday life. And to date there have been no significant shifts in Chinese policies, foreign or domestic.

Was the importance of leadership succession in China, then, simply overrated? Not entirely. China's leaders were aware that the death of a prominent leader could be taken as an unspoken signal initiating spontaneous protests and they took steps to preempt any hint of unrest. Additional plainclothes and uniformed police were dispatched to likely trouble spots, such as college campuses and Tiananmen Square. Those few citizens who tried to bring flowers to Tiananmen were deflected, detained, and then ushered away in police cars. Foreign dignitaries and media were barred from Deng's funeral, denying potential protesters a sympathetic audience. If Deng's death was anti-climactic, it was partly because great care was taken to make it so.

Still, while succession is not an insignificant issue, it is easily oversold. The absence of formal procedures for selecting a new leader, the infrequency of such events, and the tendency of Chinese elites to struggle against each other for political power combine to give the problem of leadership succession its persistent fascination for China-watchers. But the potential for political crisis at times of transition should not obscure the fundamental truth that no communist government has ever collapsed as the direct result of leadership succession. When a leader dies in office, his survivors have always been able to reach a consensus around a new standard bearer in short order. Not all such leaders were inspired choices (Hua Guofeng and, in the case of the Soviet Union, Konstantin Chernenko come quickly to mind), and not all remained in their new posts for very long. But in all cases the normal operations of state continued with little disruption at the time of succession.

Succession remains a serious issue, however, because so much is at stake in the longer run. In China's case, the succession to Deng, once it plays out, may determine whether the policies of gaige and kaifang (reform and opening to the outside world) are continued and perhaps deepened, or abandoned. It may rearrange significantly the relative power of the current constellation of leaders and influence the degree of political order in China. If intra-elite strife were to ensue, political instability would likely follow. If, as a consequence, China's leaders were to lose control over society, and over the many thousands of local officials who run China on a daily basis, the survival of the regime itself could be at stake.

Such apocalyptic consequences are unlikely, however, for at least three reasons. First, there was no power vacuum when Deng died because he held no formal posts. Remembering the havoc wreaked by the succession issue during and immediately after Mao's tenure, Deng took the trouble to work out his own succession far in advance. His status as China's paramount leader was not undermined by having more junior officials formally fill the top posts in the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and government. Like Mao, however, Deng lost confidence in his initially designated successors (Hu Yaobang and Zhao Ziyang), pushed them out of office, and replaced them with new heirs apparent, the last being Jiang Zemin. When Deng died, the top leadership positions - general secretary of the CCP, prime minister, president, and chairman of the Military Affairs Commission - were all filled.(1) Few outside observers believe that the current ranking of leaders will remain fixed beyond the next few years, but the fact that the primary contenders already hold formal positions at least postpones the problem. The real shape of the post-Deng era will therefore take time to clarify.

A second reason for expecting scant policy discontinuity in the near term is that there is little dispute among current leaders concerning policy preferences. As was not the case during the Mao succession period, all the potential competitors hold positions relatively close together on the policy spectrum, exemplified by a general consensus on gaige and kaifang. Despite occasional shifts in the direction and pace of reforms, none of China's front-line leaders is calling for a return to a centrally planned, heavy-industry based economy. Any attempt to recentralize power, especially over the economy, would be resisted by local leaders, the main beneficiaries of market-oriented reforms during the Deng era. Indeed, already in the early 1990s resistance by several provincial governors forced Prime Minister Li Peng to abandon his attempt to recentralize control over financial and investment matters. Nor is anyone calling for an immediate transition to a full market economy, or putting political reform back on the agenda. All Politburo proponents of political liberalization were replaced in the summer of 1989.

There are undercurrents favoring political reform in China, but they are not strong enough by themselves to break the surface. Some of those who were demoted for their support of reform have subsequently returned to political life in less prominent positions (e.g., Hu Qili as minister of electronics and Yah Mingfu as vice minister of civil affairs). They may still...