Mao Zedong: Nationalist in Spite of Himself
Remarks to the
SAIS China Forum
October 11, 2006
Ambassador
Chas W. Freeman, Jr. (USFS, Ret.)
When Mike Lampton asked me to
speak this evening, on the thirtieth anniversary of Chairman Mao’s demise, I
was a bit nonplused. What, I asked
myself, could I say about the famous peasant under glass in Tiananmen? Others, including some who are now ferocious
critics of China,
were quite taken with him once. I never
was. But Mao is worth remembering. I am glad to see so many members of his cult
present here tonight. Let me give you my
thoughts on the man and his legacy.
Mao Zedong had a force and
energy which none but men of equally great spiritual conviction could
withstand. His animal appetites, we now
know, matched his intellectual vigor. He
was an object of adulation to his subjects and of mingled admiration and dread
to his subordinates and intimates. While Mao lived, the brilliance of his
personality illuminated the farthest corners of his country and inspired many
would-be revolutionaries and romantics beyond it.
Few indeed loved Chairman Mao’s
style of governance, but all but a few of those who despised it most loved the
People’s Republic he had founded more and hated him less than they feared
him. Had he been less insistent on grand
and impractical visions, his ideas would not have convulsed his country as
desperately as they did, nor would they have been as thoroughly discredited. Had he not driven his country mad with
attempts at sudden, violent change, China would not, however, now be as
devoted to domestic tranquility as it is, nor would it have so easily accepted the international order it once rejected but
in which it now prospers. Had Mao died earlier, his ideas might have lived on
in the new China. He would certainly be seen by history as a
greater man.
As it is, Mao is likely to be
remembered, unfondly, as a great military strategist and a good poet who was a
colossal failure in the crafting of a sustainable order in the country he
sought to liberate from its past as well as from its foreign and domestic
oppressors. Had he succeeded in his
multiple attempts to eliminate Deng Xiaoping’s political influence, the world
might still worry about the consequences of China’s backwardness and
disgruntlement about the international status quo, not its rapid advance as a
leading participant in the quintessentially capitalist process of
globalization. But Mao did not succeed
in doing in Deng, and China
and the world are greatly the better for that.
Mao was very Chinese, but he
aspired to a role in human, not just Chinese history and philosophy.
Generations of soldiers yet unborn will read his thoughts on asymmetric
warfare. Only academics – no
disparagement of this audience intended – and Communist Party ideologues will
ponder his political philosophy or the values it espouses. Today, there are some in northeastern India and Nepal who invoke his name as they
struggle for political power and economic leveling in their societies. But they mainly read his military manuals,
not his philosophical tracts. There are
also those in China for whom Mao remains a god, if now a blessedly undemanding
middle class god, whose effigy can be mounted on a dashboard or hung above an
altar table to be venerated along with one’s ancestors. The man’s charisma has transcended the man
himself.
In the end, however, Mao Zedong
is no more a universal figure than the emperor he most resembles. Qin Shihuang is remembered without reverence
by Chinese as the ruthless unifier of China whose violence and
oppressions paved the way for the peaceful and tolerant order and the wealth
and power of the Han Dynasty. The First
Emperor thus created the vessel in which a Chinese culture vastly different than
the one that he had conceived could take China to greatness. He was the precursor, not the creator of that
China. Still, some of his vision for China
was realized in its continued unity of culture and institutions and the awe
that the state he had created inspired among its neighbors. Like Qin, Mao was a philosopher king whose
philosophy died as his kingdom endured and found its own, very different way
forward.
That “kingdom” – the People’s
Republic of China
– is Mao Zedong’s true monument. And it is one whose achievements are congruent
with the goals of the broad pantheon of Twentieth Century Chinese revolutionary
and nationalist figures, not just Mao himself. Despite the erratic and brutal nature of his
reign, both his revolution and its predecessor Nationalist revolution had in
common four inextricably connected objectives:
– unifying China by eliminating warlords and
erasing foreign spheres of influence,
– regaining China’s independence and deterring
foreign invasion or bullying;
– establishing respect for China
as a sovereign participant in international affairs, and .
– restoring China to prosperity.
When Chairman Mao first
proclaimed that China
had “stood up” this was what he had in mind.
It galled him then, when he wished to stand tall, to have to “lean to
one side” to do so. In the end he could
not sustain the posture. Thus, China’s dependence on the Soviet Union was soon
set aside and, after a delay in which he experimented unsuccessfully with means
of accelerating China’s
economic development and used the Cultural Revolution to affirm the
idiosyncratic nativism of his revolution, Mao sought
to lean on a suddenly respectful United States
to regain China’s
international balance.
From Mao’s perspective, Chiang
Kai-shek’s defeat and flight to Taiwan
had reduced him and his “Republic of China” to the status of a warlord whose
rump regime could not survive without foreign backing. Mao was determined to bring this vestige of China’s turbulent past to heel and to eliminate Taiwan
as an American protectorate on Chinese soil.
He did not believe in the possibility of peaceful reunification. He was prepared to be patient about
reincorporating Taiwan
but expected this to take place through the use of force. Mao lived to see his new Chinese state attain
the international recognition as a sovereign great power that the United States
had spent so much effort to deny it and to see Chiang’s regime reduced to
commensurate diplomatic irrelevance. He
did not live long enough to see the Taiwan issue placed on the path to
peaceful reunification it is now treading.
Chairman Mao insisted on keeping
China’s distance from the United States as he had not from the Soviet Union. He
guarded China’s
status as an equal and independent actor, standing apart from the sphere of
influence that we Americans then, with shameless inaccuracy, called the “free
world.” And while he was pragmatic in
his actual approach, he insisted on a framework for relations with the United States that would realize the objective
of a unified China.
Deng Xiaoping embraced this
objective, like the other nationalist visions that had animated Mao. But his pragmatism led him both to reject
Mao’s preferred methods and to risk a degree of intimacy with the United States
that Mao would never have contemplated.
Deng adopted peaceful reunification as a national objective. He used the cover of improved relations with
the United States to force Vietnam to abandon its efforts to build a
Soviet-style empire in Indochina. He extended vital assistance to the
American-led effort to contain the Soviet Union, as one example, enlisting China as a full partner in the Saudi-financed,
American and Pakistani-managed struggle to expel the Soviets from Afghanistan. But most differently of all, Deng boldly
initiated an across-the-board exposure of Chinese to American ways. His motive was precisely to overthrow the
legacy of Maoism and to replace it with a fundamentally changed socioeconomic
order in China.
In the late summer of 1981, Deng
Xiaoping remarked in my presence that when the history of the Twentieth Century
was written, Mao’s revolution would be described as the prelude to the real
Chinese revolution, that which Deng himself had
initiated in December 1978. But Deng
made it clear that his was a revolution in methodology, not a change in
national objectives. His opening of China, of course, was a defining event in the
last fourth of the last century, not just for China
but for a world in which China
now plays an increasingly decisive role.
It has greatly accelerated progress toward the objectives of Chinese
nationalism – unification, credible deterrence of foreign meddling,
international respect, and prosperity.
Last year’s establishment
of party-to-party ties between Taiwan’s
major opposition parties and the Chinese Communist Party and their inauguration
of a partial cross-Strait political entente have reversed the trend
toward war in the Taiwan Strait. Their interaction is replacing Taiwan
separatism with a process of cross-Strait political integration that parallels
the economic integration and cultural rapprochement that have been underway for
more than a decade. Meanwhile, Taiwan’s
political establishment, by repeatedly rejecting massive purchases of American
weapons in favor of avoiding an arms race with Chinese across the Strait, has
made it clear that the island’s elite do not believe their differences with the
mainland can or should be addressed by military means.
The leadership in Beijing, for its part, now
sees peaceful reunification as the likely result of trends that are
increasingly well-established. Renewed
confidence that time is on the side of this has restored these leaders’
willingness to be patient and forbearing.
The last chapter in Taiwan’s
excursion into an identity separate from the rest of China
has, of course, yet to be written and Chinese leaders do not rule out the
possibility that they might have to use force to deter efforts by the Taiwan
authorities to alter the legal status quo.
But, they see this as a diminishing possibility, and almost no one in Beijing now expects
reunification itself to involve the use of force. In this context, frankly, American and
Japanese concerns about Chinese aggressiveness in the Taiwan
Strait seem increasingly delusional.
China does seem determined to
invest in modernizing its still relatively backward armed forces to be able to
deter others from attacking it as we and many of its neighbors have in the
past. Speculation that China
should and will aspire to be a “peer competitor” of the US military is, however, made in the USA, not made in China. Threat analysis is, of course, the mother of
all defense spending, and Americans are really good at
both. Having a potentially formidable
high-tech enemy is a great fund-raiser for the hyper-expensive advanced
weaponry our military-industrial complex prefers to make and our armed forces
love to employ. And, in all fairness to
purveyors of the China
threat, China
may yet emulate us by developing the means to invade faraway countries and use
gunboat diplomacy against them, or actually do both. But back in the real world, so far, it
hasn’t; and there is no hard evidence that it plans to.
The Lebanese militia’s recent
frustration of Israel’s
effort to bomb their country into peaceful coexistence has, meanwhile, provided
a splendid example of how Mao’s concept of “people’s war” remains
relevant. Remember “dig tunnels deep,
store grain everywhere, and never seek hegemony?” Hezbollah demonstrated how this kind of
preparation for defense could support people’s war combined with information
warfare, including first-class signals intelligence and command and control, to
defeat a high-tech invader. Israel, which had no desire or intention to
mount a land invasion of Lebanon,
was maneuvered by Hezbollah’s strategy into engaging it on the ground Hezbollah
had chosen for battle, where Hezbollah could frustrate the invaders of Lebanon
militarily and defeat them politically.
This evolution should be a caution to anyone contemplating military
coercion against a determinedly sovereign people like the Chinese – or, for
that matter, the Persians. “People’s
war,” updated to address the challenges posed by technological advance, remains
the core of China’s
defense strategy. It is inherently defensive,
rather than offensive, but, as the example of Lebanon shows, it can be very
punishing for those who take it on.
This brings me to China’s
drive for a dignified position of leadership in the world order. In the global contest for political standing,
the Chinese are – at present – clear winners.
Outside of Germany
and our own country, China
is by far the most admired great power.
This admiration derives from the weight China’s own experience has caused
it to give to respect for sovereignty. China
is popular in no small measure because it now stands against us in its
opposition to coercive diplomacy directed at changing the domestic policies of
other nations, rejection of the notion of humanitarian intervention, and
insistence on adherence to the norms of international law.
There is, of course, a great
irony in this. China, an Asian nation that long
headed an explicitly hierarchical state system, is now the staunchest defender
internationally of once purely European stipulations about the sovereign
equality of states. The People’s
Republic of China,
a state created in explicit opposition to the norms on which we and other
western nations built the world order we dominated, has emerged as a stalwart
defender of that order against American and other western second thoughts about
it. We have new ideas; China has taken up our old
ones. As Beijing’s
global influence continues to grow, I wouldn’t bet on Washington;’s
current radicalism prevailing over China’s conservatism. The east wind may indeed prevail over the
west, though with results opposite to those Chairman Mao imagined.
China still, however, presents a
political model that is not in the least attractive internationally, even to
those countries that have become dependent on the Chinese. This will be the case as long as China
does not develop a system that gives its citizens a more direct, more visible,
and more credible role in selecting their leaders and in formulating and
overseeing the implementation of policy.
The economic advances of recent years have laid the basis for a gradual
political opening that is now overdue.
In its absence, China
will continue to experience levels of corruption and disrespect for human
rights that constantly irk its people and intermittently bring disrepute upon
it abroad. Aside from limiting China’s
international and regional influence, such political backwardness poses a
threat to the process of opening and reform that have been the keys to its
stunning advances in recent decades. All
things being equal, these advances should continue. But nowhere is it written that this must be
so.
The greatest threat to China’s
future global leadership is, I think, neither the deficiencies of its political
system nor the risk of American resistance to its rise. It is the danger Mao cautioned against –
domineering self-righteousness and overconfidence born of success, translated
into hegemonism. China’s neighbors share Mao’s
apprehensions that its return to wealth and power might inspire hegemonic
behavior and are watching closely for signs of this. As recent American interaction with the
outside world has convincingly demonstrated, a little bit of such behavior can
alienate a lot of people very fast.
Meanwhile, only the unobservant can fail to notice a rising measure of
cocky self-assertiveness in today’s China. The American example attests that a country
that “zi yiwei shi” – is “so full of itself that it has all the answers” – is
one that many will wish ill and few wish to follow.
If China’s current, remarkably
deft policy of deferential politeness to foreigners is succeeded by arrogance,
it will be because of China’s extraordinary success in advancing the objectives
of Chinese nationalism – including, finally, the achievement of levels of
wealth that restore China to its historic status as the global economic center
of gravity. Mao’s misguided efforts to
find shortcuts to such economic success derived in large measure from the
romantic delusions of Friedrich Engels’ ruminations on “The German
Ideology.” They failed so badly that the
Russians were able, with some justification, to charge him with pursuing
“pantsless communism,” a philosophy only the North Koreans now practice. Deng’s inspired decision to launch China on a
different course has put the pants back on China, along with a fine jacket and
tie. The “socialism with Chinese
characteristics” that his policies sponsored is derided by some as “bandit
capitalism.” There may be something to
this. But, whatever you call its system,
China
is now a huge success at business, lauded – and feared – here and elsewhere
abroad as both the workshop and the potential leader of the capitalist world.
In my view, the challenges from
China’s economic success lie less in its role as a producer of goods sold
throughout the world than in the consequences of its eventual emergence as the
world’s largest consumer market. These
include the likelihood that the Renminbi yuan will join the euro as an
alternative to the dollar as a reserve currency and, ultimately, as a unit of
account for trade in energy and other commodities currently traded solely in
dollars. And they include the
possibility that – if China sustains its remarkable openness to the outside
world as well as its commitment to market economics and does not backslide into
bureaucratic control of its economy – its current drive to become an innovative
society may work, displacing the United States from our long-accustomed role as
the global scientific and technological leader.
But these are other topics, best left for discussion at another time and
place.
It is time for me to close.
Let me sum up the topic at hand
as I see it. China has long strived to restore
its unity, sovereign dignity, domestic tranquility, and wealth. These efforts, conducted unsuccessfully under
Chairman Mao’s erratic baton, are attaining success under the steadier
direction of his more pragmatic but equally nationalist successors. China is now not just transforming
itself; it is transforming the world.
Chairman Mao would have liked that, though he would have hated how it
came about and despise how it is proceeding.
It has become a commonplace that
the course of the Twenty-first Century will be determined by China. China’s continued success is far
from inevitable, but the challenges we face from a successful China – as well
as those that China
itself faces – may be quite different than those of concern to us yesterday or
today.
Thank you for your polite
attention.