Is the economy of the People's Republic of China likely to be substantially influenced by "politics"? That is, does a reading of the record of the past 30 years suggest that future policy conflicts among Chinese over the "proper" allocation of political power among themselves, and over the style of decisionmaking and issue resolution might substantially affect prospects for economic growth? The answer appears to be a resounding "yes; but *** ." The qualification is an admission of the failure of both political scientists and economists to sort out the precise relationship between Chinese Communist political structure and style on the one hand, and economic development, on the other. That the two are interdependent cannot be disputed. But answers to questions of cause and effect elude the most meticulous student of both fields. The impact of a succession of political decisions on the dynamics of the economy is generally accepted; but it has proved impossible to link specific economic consequences with specific political decisions.

Though China specialists and U.S. policymakers are far from precision in their understanding of the relationship between politics and the dynamics of the Chinese economy, one key to better understanding and prediction is a recognition of the multiple bases on which China's political alliances are built. Policy arguments are couched in ideological language, and indeed, ideological cleavages are significant ones. Increasingly, however, over the past quarter century, three other sets of cleavages, and patterns of loyalties they engender, have shaped the political process in China: Generational, regional, and bureacratic.

Sometimes, for the individual, these loyalties are mutually reinforcing in support of a policy decision. More often, however, they put the individual under cross pressures; that is, his competing loyalties dictate support for conflicting policies. Factional strength is thus precarious, and can be shifted by skillful appeals to groups under

cross pressures.

William W. Whitson is Chief of the Foreign Affairs and National Defense Division, Congressional Research Service.

In consequence carefully built compromises among competing loyalties are destined to be altered as their relative importance changes under the pressure of issues. Though our understanding of this process is still rudimentary, such a mode of analysis can be useful giving shape and a sense of dynamics to the process of economic policymaking in China.

The following pages briefly outline the elements of the four major cleavages that shape patterns of loyalties in Chinese politics-the ideological, the generational, the regional, and the bureaucratic-and then sketch how evolving and shifting coalitions have contributed to cyclic patterns in political power structure and style since 1949. This sets the stage for a review of the most critical domestic and foreign political issues currently confronting the leadership, and finally, an assessment of the potential impact on political stability should the leadership choose to depart from policy directions that seem to have emerged since Mao's death.

POLITICAL LOYALTIES

Generational loyalties are the most difficult to assess. Nevertheless, these form the basis for many "old boy networks," each drawing its strength from a unique history of shared crises and achievements.1 Four distinctive generational groupings deserve attention: pre-World War II; the War Years; the Cultural Revolution; and the postCultural Revolution.

The great majority of the leaders drawn from the pre-World War II years (1922-36) come from the six provinces bordering the Yangtze River. They may, therefore, be called the Southern Revolutionaries. From this group came the "Long Marchers," participants in the epic strategic withdrawal from their fertile but politically hostile homeland to a barren and forbidding loess plateau west of the Yellow River. Men and women who conceived and made a great revolution, these leaders are generalists with long memories and haunting doubts about their legacy to their beloved country. Because most of them are in their seventies, little time remains in which they may place the permanent stamp of their vision, their waning energy, and their enormous experience in China. Most of the central Peking leadership, including the Deputy Premier, Teng Hsiao-p'ing, the new Minister of Defense, Hsu Hsiang-ch'ien, the President of the National People's Congress and former Defense Minister, Yeh Chien-ying, the most of the 11 military regional commanders and chairmen of provincial revolutionary committees belong to this generation. Their influence is still decisive; but their losses in 1976 (e.g., Chou En-Lai, Mao Tse-Tung, Chu Te, Kang Sheng and Tung Pi-Wu) warned them that time is running out.

The great majority of the important leaders drawn from 16 continous "war years" (Sino-Japanese War, Civil War, and Korean war: 1937-53) come from provinces north of the Yellow River. They may, therefore, be called the Northern Warriors. Like the Southern Revolutionaries, they formed strong factional ties, forged in battle, death, and great victory. Generally better educated than the older group, more inclined to specialization and professionalism, many of these people came from conservative middle-class families and joined

1 For a more detailed analysis of generations in China's elite, see William W. Whitson, "The Chinese High Command" (New York, Praeger, 1973), ch. 9.

the cause of the nation, not of communism, when a foreign enemy threatened. In many ways less regionally parochial, more technically qualified, and even more patriotic than the older generation, this generation now manages most of the ministries, the top staffs of the military establishment and the key operating units of the People's Liberation Army. The new Premier, Hua Kuo-feng, is a member of this northern warrior group. Now in their late fifties and early sixties, they focus their energies on the management of the present rather than either the atonement of the past or the judgement of history.

The "Cultural Revolution generation" is composed of young men and women who entered the political arena after 1953 and dared to believe and adopt the idealism of the older generations, especially the Southern Revolutionaries who had written extensively about the spirit of the revolution when few resources other than esprit had been available. Drawn from all over China, and inspired to dedicate themselves to a new China, these young men and women might be called the Nation Builders. Turning away from classicists and the traditions of Chinese education and the traditional measures of worth in China, for 16 years the nation builders moved out of the cities and the farms of central China to the borders. Armed with Mao's thoughts, they largely succeeded in imposing a pervasive network of party and government systems and procedures on 800 million people. While increasingly conscious of "China" as a nation-state, this generation makes the machinery of China's political system work-and sometimes break down. Energetic and idealistic but also increasingly bureaucratic, professional and consumer oriented, they demonstrated their frustrations with both unrealized ideals and their own creaking bureaucracy from 1966 to 1968. At that time, the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution became an epic watershed, probably the politically climactic period of their lives. Still sorting out the significance of that major social trauma for their generation, they have only limited impact on major decisions; but no major decisions can be carried out without them.

The post-Cultural Revolution generation, entering the political arena after 1969, is comprised of the majority of the population of the country. Only vaguely aware of the sacrifices and dedication of the first two generations, concerned with their own problems of immediate survival, this generation has no role in decisionmaking but can clearly frustrate or help realize the vision and managerial goals of older leaders. They are the grist of China's political mill and are probably less patient than either the Northern Warriors or the Nation Builders for the rewards of the new China. They may therefore be called the Consumer Generation. It will be these young men and women who will heed the call of their elders to fight the future political battles now forming already to challenge the prevailing compromise. Regional loyalties may reinforce or undermine generational loyalties and give geographic focus to China's political system.

The issue is concerned with the power of central authority. Distribution of political power among the center, 11 major military regions and 29 provincial-level revolutionary committees, has fluctuated wildly since 1949. Depending upon the administrative or political issue, the long-term trend until 1976 had been toward delegation of considerable authority to lower-level leaders. That trend has been interrupted periodically by efforts at the center to retrieve control over certain issues. But the complexity of the Chinese political system,

the size of the country and the slow development of its communication and transportation systems have encouraged the trend toward selective decentralization. The trend has been reinforced by the increased availability of competent administrators from the generation of the "Nation Builders."

While these young people have been encouraged to think in terms of China's needs, their limited mobility (with the exception of the Red Guard movement of the Cultural Revolution and the "down to the countryside" movement) and the old tradition of localism in Chinese politics have obstructed party efforts to raise the level of political vision beyond the boundaries of the home county or province. Thus, "regionalism" (primary loyalty to the needs, values, and goals of the locale rather than China as a whole) remains a powerful force in Chinese political dynamics and may often overwhelm the personalized ethic of an "old boy network" with its roots in the collective generational

memory.

At risk of oversimplifying "the facts" while yet continuing a theme already suggested above, the locus of Chinese political power is shifting from the Southern Revolutionaries to the Northern Warriors. That this shift is an accident of the history of the Communist movement in China does not detract from its significance for changing priorities and perceptions of political issues.

From a Chinese viewpoint, the "Mason-Dixon Line of China" is the Huai River, flowing eastward along a course approximately 100 miles south of the railroad from Lienkang to Chengchou. In the field of foreign affairs, northern Chinese historically have been less tolerant of the Russians than have southerners. The north (especially in Manchuria) has had a more extensive and balanced experience with the Japanese than the south. From a northern viewpoint, the principal geopolitical threat is continental and Russian; southerners see the principal threat from the sea. The tradition and conditions of war for the north have demanded walled cities because the adversary could sweep into North China from the Mongolian steppes. Indeed, the Great Wall symbolizes this defensive mentality and its preoccupation with cavalry and nomadic fluidity. Conversely, the broken terrain of the south, extending from the South China Sea all the way to the Tibetan highlands, has encouraged guerrilla warfare, with small unit operations relying on dispersion, rather than concentration, of defensive forces.

In addition to the pull of generational and regional loyalties on the decisions of China's leadership, shorter term bureaucratic loyalties play an increasingly important role in the behavior of key political actors. Whether between party and military careerists or within those two huge, interlocking bureaucracies, the complexity of bureaucratic politics in China reflects pervasive careerists aspirations for power for its own sake. These aspirations and the games they evoke are most characteristic of the Northern Warrior generation, the men and women who made their early careers through 15 years of continuous warfare and now stand poised to take control of the entire political game from their elders.

Prior to 1949, careers were made and broken primarily through the traditional Chinese mode of personalized factional ("old boy") loyalties, increasingly formalized during the 1940's into mobile "field armies." When these field armies ended the Civil War in 1950 and settled down in regional roles of postwar economic reconstruction and

political stabilization, the regional loyalty system began to unfold. Simultaneously, the search started for a national bureaucratic structure a structure suited for managing a restive and talented population. Unlike older generational and regional criteria for promotion, bureaucratic criteria would inevitably include such measures as professionalism, responsiveness to special bureaucratic organizational values and, ultimately, a careerist perspective which can argue seriously that "What's good for the Chinese Air Force (for example) must be good for the country."

Rarely would members of the Southern Revolutionary generation argue from such premises during the 25-year period after liberation; theirs was and is a different kind of parochialism. But the Northern Warrior generation and the younger Nation Builders had the technical education, the opportunity for specialization and the challenge of a burgeoning bureaucratic empire to inspire them to play the bureaucratic game. Today that game is highly developed in China and must be factored into any calculus of political behavior. What was once a "generalist" ethic associated with the older generation of revolutionaries, who combined party and military careers and functions as the need arose, has now been diffused into much more complicated, specialized ethical systems that begin to resemble the phenomena of American bureaucratic political life.

Thus the professionals of the civil bureaucracy are increasingly concerned with limiting the role of the military in decisions about scarce resources allocations. In a move to confirm the military role of senior officers, in the winter of 1973-74, Teng Hsiao-p'ing arranged the transfer of eight military regional commanders to new posts where they lost their key roles as chairmen of revolutionary committees. Thereafter, the movements to dislodge the military from provincial level civil management roles proceeded apace.

Concerned with economic development and the problems of an underemployed populance, civil leaders are inclined to emphasize internal political threats (to their own tenure, to stability, to goals of political and economic national integration, et cetera). Under the leadership of Teng Hsiao-p'ing, they take increasing exception to the older military "generalists," whose education and experience suited them for the demands of a revolution and a combat environment of small arms, not an environment of missiles.2

That same generation of elder military leaders find themselves under pressure from their juniors, increasingly professional and technically qualified and impatient to take over the high command. But such emphasis on military professionalism and "modernization" brings its own conflict with civil bureaucrats over the correct mix of guns versus butter. At stake is the issue of pace: how fast the PLA will receive new aircraft; how fast the PLA will receive improved communication equipment; how fast the older leaders will "retire"; how fast the older regionally based distribution of political-military power will be transformed into a truly national army.

Standing behind all three sets of demands on the loyalties of China's leaders are ideological conflicts. These involve conflicts in values, goals, and style dating back to the earliest arguments among the Southern Revolutionaries. Since 1949, those arguments have been

2 See FBIS (PRE, Jan. 31, 1978, p. E1) for the left page article in People's Daily on January 30 regard Teng's 1975 criticisim of overstaffing, lethargy, arrogance, extravagance, laziness, and laxness in the PLA.