TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/012290/0122007.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 5.5 KB | 120 lines

                ╦┬╣                                                          WORLD, Page 39

CHINA

Blue Smoke and Mirrors


The government ends martial law, but neither rebellious students
nor the U.S. Congress is impressed


    The move was trumpeted in a nationally televised address and
was well received by foreign governments. But when China
finally lifted martial law, which was imposed on parts of its
capital eight months ago to crush the pro-democracy movement,
the response in Beijing was "Wu suo wei" -- it makes no
difference. Despite official repeal of the decree, the
government appeared to have ended the crackdown in name only:
soldiers who had switched into the uniforms of civilian police
were cropping up all over town, and there was no sign that
their orders to suppress any hint of new unrest had changed.

    In fact, the show of moderation was mainly aimed at
appeasing critics abroad. Beijing is eager to break out of its
international isolation and revive the lines of foreign credit
and investment it needs to stoke its stalled economy. It also
wants to bring back tourists, most of whom have stayed away
from China since the June massacre in Tiananmen Square, costing
the country more than $1 billion in lost revenue.

    Washington and Tokyo commended the action and moved closer
to resuming normal ties. Japan, the largest provider of
economic assistance to China, announced that it was sending an
envoy to Beijing to discuss resuming negotiations on pending
loans. In the U.S., President Bush called China's decision "a
very sound step," and Washington immediately softened its
blanket opposition to World Bank loans to China.

    But few Chinese were taken in by their government's
maneuver. "Maybe ending martial law is good for international
relations," said a history major at Peking University, "but
there will always be soldiers and plainclothes police around."
Despite Premier Li Peng's claim that "a great victory has been
won in . . . quelling the counterrevolutionary rebellion," his
government remains extremely wary of any revival of the
protests.

    Although most of the rifle-toting troops in Tiananmen Square
have been gone for months, guards armed with bayonets remain
in place at the Monument to the People's Heroes. Overall, there
have been no reductions in the security forces controlling the
capital. Many of the restrictions on demonstrations and strikes
in Beijing have been codified in municipal regulations every
bit as tough as the martial-law decree, and the independent
student associations that mobilized demonstrators last spring
remain outlawed. In any case, the dissident vanguard has been
shattered as dozens of student leaders and their intellectual
mentors have fled the country or gone underground; many more
have been jailed or executed. In this atmosphere, disgruntled
students and faculty alike have been lying low, stoically
enduring hours of brain-numbing political re-education, until
another opportunity for change presents itself.

    Nonetheless, the overthrow of Rumanian dictator Nicolae
Ceausescu, a close ally of Beijing, has emboldened China's
dissidents. When news of Ceausescu's execution began to
circulate, Beijing experienced a temporary shortage of beer as
students bought up cases and smashed the bottles -- just as
they did last spring to show their opposition to the leadership
of Deng Xiaoping, whose given name in spoken Chinese can mean
"little bottle."

    The elite minority of restive students is not the primary
worry of the Chinese leadership in the wake of events in
Eastern Europe. Of graver concern is the growing resentment
among workers and peasants, who are increasingly strapped by
the government's austerity policies. "We are not demanding
democracy and freedom in the same way as those naive students
who laid down their lives," said a worker at Beijing's
state-owned Capital Iron and Steel plant. "However, our families
are waiting for food. If we cannot receive our wages, we will
certainly become indignant."

    Like workers in ailing state factories across the country,
this man was angered by management's failure to distribute
anticipated bonuses. Many plants have had to cut production
because of credit restrictions imposed by the government over
the past year in an effort to cool the overheated economy. The
post-massacre restrictions on aid and investment by Western
countries and Japan have squeezed the economy further.

    A secret Communist Party document has reportedly revealed
that in more than 30 cities, workers hit by recession have
applied for permits to stage demonstrations. One group in
Chongqing, in southwestern China, gave as its proposed slogan,
"We want food to eat." China's leaders are well aware that
economic deprivation, at least as much as political repression,
motivated the popular uprisings in Eastern Europe.

    But Beijing may not find that easy to fix. Leaders of the
U.S. Congress, where sentiment is strong for imposing new
sanctions, were unmoved by China's modest gesture, and are
likely to demand more concessions before restoring full ties.
Michigan's William Broomfield, the ranking Republican on the
House Foreign Affairs Committee, summed up the reaction when
he called Beijing's announcement "more blue smoke and mirrors
[that] would not fool anybody in Congress into believing that
the Chinese leadership was moderating its oppressive rule."
He might as well have said, "Wu suo wei."


By Lisa Beyer. Reported by Sandra Burton/Beijing