Lessons in Statecraft: What Deng Xiaoping’s Political Career Can Teach Us about Catching Mice
President Carter shaking hands with Vice Premier Deng Xiaoping outside the Oval Office in 1979. Photo by AP
Deng Xiaoping is one of the most influential and revered leaders in Chinese history, but his tenure as paramount leader has remained relatively obscure––or completely unknown––in the West. His six-decade political career, spanning from the earliest days of the Chinese Revolution to the late-nineties, is complicated, tumultuous, and oftentimes difficult to accurately appraise. His staunch aversion to political liberalism, unerring loyalty to the Communist Party, and the black spot the Tiananmen Square massacre left on his career all contribute in making him a politician whose study is largely discounted in the West. But this is a mistake. More than any other politician, Deng Xiaoping is responsible for the modernization of China in the 20th century and its emergence as an economic superpower in today’s world. His long career, though controversial and often outright contradictory, is filled with lessons in statecraft that are not only relevant to contemporary politics, but necessary for future leaders to draw on. The following will be an analysis into four of the most relevant lessons from Deng Xiaoping’s career that can provide insight into contemporary political challenges in the U.S.
Lesson 1: Build Power Bases Without Making Enemies, Challenge Regimes without Alienating its Supporters.
This lesson is fundamentally about how to disagree with exceedingly powerful and prestigious leaders without endangering your own position. Deng was first tasked with navigating this problem after the failure of the Great Leap Forward––an economic program that forced the collectivization of agriculture into a system that underproduced food and led to the starvation of between 20 to 40 million people. Despite the calamitous failure of the economic program, many in the party remained loyal to Mao and faithfully observed the Two Whatevers: support whatever policy Mao implemented and carry out whatever Mao instructed. Deng, on the other hand, increasingly took economic matters into his own hands and began distancing himself from Mao by criticizing his economic plans in speeches across the country. Mao also became frustrated by Deng’s creation of an “independent kingdom” and the increasing tendency of Deng to insulate Mao from political decision making. Mao was the leader of the revolution, the founder of the Communist Party, and the image of Chinese power as a whole. To challenge Mao could easily be construed as a challenge to the Party and to his supporters, but Deng’s challenge to Mao succeeded for two main reasons. The first is that Deng had his own unique power base that was independent of Mao’s. Deng had his own prestige from his participation in the earliest stages of the Communist Revolution and from the ties he established with other powerful communists like Premier Zhou Enlai, who even convinced Mao to reinstate Deng after he was purged in the Cultural Revolution. Deng’s prestige was not dependent on Mao’s and he was able to mount an indirect opposition to him without having to worry about losing all of his prestige in a clash with Mao. The second is that Deng made sure to insulate himself from the disastrous policies of Mao and work towards implementing a different economic plan, without forthrightly deriding Mao’s policies, even if he might have felt that they were worthy of derision. Even after Deng became paramount leader, he still made sure to pay respects to Mao while enacting a different––and even antagonistic––policy program to what Mao desired. These two factors––the unique power base Deng had and the public respect he paid to Mao’s achievements––allowed Deng to radically change the policies of the CCP without threatening the image of the party and estranging Mao’s supporters.
The problem of trying to change the political agenda of an immensely prestigious and ideological party leader is currently confronting the GOP today. The Republican Party is still under the de facto leadership of former President Donald Trump, and the widespread popular support he still receives from the Republican constituency makes it difficult for other politicians to distance themselves from him without risking alienation from his constituency. To deride Mao would be to deride his many followers, just as to deride President Trump would be a derision of the people that believed in him. In today’s GOP, whether a politician agrees with Trump’s policies or not does not matter. What does matter is that this competing politician can build up their own power base independent of Trump and challenge him without questioning the integrity of his leadership, and by extension, the integrity of his supporters. This obviously presupposes that the person being challenged holds disproportionate power, prestige, and influence in politics; without it, a direct challenge is more advisable. Therefore, if the Republican Party hopes to achieve a greater share of the moderate vote, realign the image of the party with its traditional values, or shift its policy objectives in a different direction––all without losing the widespread conservative unity the Party had in the last Presidential term–– it has to distance itself from Trump. If they wanted to succeed in this, they would do well to follow Deng’s example.
Lesson 2: Be Good Cats, Subordinate Ideology to Pragmatism
As soon as Deng came into power, he began a series of reforms to undo a lot of Maoist policies. He de-collectivized agriculture, encouraged bonuses and dynamic wages, subordinated political zeal to academic performance in university admissions, and dissolved the class labeling system Mao created during the Cultural Revolution. His primary goal though was always to cultivate the economic industry in China. The way he went about achieving this demonstrates the central principle of this lesson.
Perhaps the best description of Deng’s style of rule can be summed up in his most famous quote: “It doesn’t matter if a cat is black or white; as long as it catches mice, it is a good cat”. Deng was not a political innovator: he did not come up with his own revolutionary economic theories nor did he reinvent the wheel when it came to governance. Instead, he critically studied what had worked in other countries and applied it to China without Westernizing the nation. After his accession to power, Deng sent convoys of scholars and party members to other countries to learn how they were able to modernize. The Gu Mu tour was sent to learn about industry in Europe, Deng himself went to Japan and Singapore to see how they modernized, and thousands of students were encouraged to attend university abroad to learn about and bring back the economic and educational success of the West. Many traditional communists thought that Deng’s willingness to observe and implement the practices of other countries was contrary to the doctrine of Maoist isolationism, but for Deng, the goal of economic modernization and the development of China necessitated a subordination of political ideology––and he had no problem doing so if it meant he could catch a mouse.
How often is the complaint leveled at one of our political parties––usually by the other––that they are putting partisan politics above national interest? It has been a recurring phenomenon in the last several years that our political parties are willing to spread misinformation and even sustain the loss of civilian life just to prove an ideological point. The frustration and distrust felt towards Congress is one derived from the current subordination of objectives to ideology. A recent example of this can be seen in the handling of the COVID-19 pandemic. It is important to note how unprecedented this pandemic was and to accept that a lot of the misaligned policy suggestions stemmed from a genuine lack of evidence about what was effective in stopping the spread of COVID-19. But even granting this lenience, there were still clear moments when the public good––presumably a shared political objective––was discounted to protect a party’s or politician’s political image. From the start of the pandemic, the Trump administration completely neglected to administer COVID-19 tests at the levels recommended by public health experts within the White House and the CDC, and advertised intentionally underestimated cases to the public. The administration’s attempt to downplay the danger COVID-19 by being willfully ignorant of the true number of cases resulted in a delayed policy response to contain the virus and likely the deaths of American citizens. This electoral insecurity induced Trump to place his own partisan image above the needs of the state, instead of taking the pragmatic actions to identify the exact threat levels of COVID-19 and constructing a response tailored to the accurate level of threat. However, the same inability to stifle ideologically-oriented governance occurred repeatedly throughout the pandemic, and on both sides of the political aisle. A Brooking’s Institute report showed that the efficacy of shutting down non-essential businesses did not significantly help curtail the spread of COVID-19, but caused extreme damage to the economy. The report was published in September of 2020 amidst continuous calls from Democratic leaders to keep non-essential businesses closed and even to shut down the economy. They admonished these “unfortunate reactions” as “distrust of the President, rather than proposals grounded in evidence”. The pandemic was a unique moment where bipartisanship, pragmatism, and the subordination of ideology to objectives should have triumphed. If the U.S. government would have followed Deng’s example in accomplishing objectives, perhaps thousands of Americans’ lives would have been spared from a virus that could have been contained.
President Xi Jinping at the 2015 BRICS Summit. Photo by Пресс-служба Президента России
Lesson 3: Identify Negative Externalities and Project Their Effects into the Future
Just as there is value in observing the actions Deng took, there is just as much value in learning from the actions that Deng did not take. Deng’s policies undeniably lifted hundreds of millions of people out of poverty through the economic development of China, and this development is undoubtedly his biggest political accomplishment. But the trap of the pragmatist is the classic ends-and-means dilemma. An objective can be so valuable to the pragmatist that the costs accrued in its achievement are often ignored, and such was the case with Deng’s pursuit of economic modernization. One of the biggest criticisms pointed at Deng’s legacy was his tolerance of corruption and rampant inequality as long as economic productivity and output were increasing. Bao Tong––an advisor to the former prime minister of China––reveals the lasting effects of Deng’s negligence. Bao writes that Deng, in his economic reforms, knew very well that “some people will get rich first,” and encouraged the state to accept this as a fact of modernization. What he failed to mention was that those who would get rich first were not going to be business owners, workers, or intellectuals, but high-ranking Communist Party officials and their families. The pursuit of marketization allowed citizens with wealth and power––almost exclusively party members––to create monopsonies of investment and labor before anyone else had the chance to compete. Such an economic structure, Bao argues, is responsible for the kleptocratic, elite practices of the CCP today. President Xi Jingping has called corruption “the greatest threat” to the CCP today and has attempted to purge it with little success.
The projection of costs far into the future is hard for politicians to think about––especially those with shorter tenures than Deng. But the fact remains that the negligence of previous statesmen often creates the greatest problems for future ones. American political discussion is rife with unprojected externalities: from discussions about climate change to monetary policy, scope is largely discounted or outright ignored in the U.S., and it is often doubtful that the necessary calculations are being made to determine the multi-generational efficacy of policy prescriptions. Take the vast climate policy rollbacks that occurred under the Trump administration. Obviously, the appeal of the policy is that deregulation offers greater economic growth by saving costs for private corporations––but growth in the short term. The long term effects of weakening air pollution and emission restrictions, reducing offshore drilling safety regulations, or allowing for greater toxic discharge into public waterways, may all vastly outweigh the marginal benefits accrued in the short term. The Biden administration will likely reverse a lot of these rollbacks, but the possibility remains that similar policies will be pursued by future Republican presidents, and a similar sacrifice of long term national health for short term economic––and more importantly, political––gain might be repeated. To be a successful, pragmatic politician, one must truly understand the costs inherent to the pursuit of an objective, and to do so is to understand the costs future generations will have to bear.
Understanding cost is one of the most important lessons of Deng’s political career, and arguably the greatest cost to Deng’s legacy was among the most infamous moments in modern Chinese history: the Tiananmen Square Massacre. The relatively liberal economic reforms instituted by Deng, growing international awareness within China, and increasing dissatisfaction with corruption and excessive authoritarianism in the CCP, were deep undercurrents that thrust the 1989 protests forward. Members of the CCP were split over whether to deploy martial action or to make concessions, but Deng was ultimately convinced by those supporting military interference and mobilized over 250,000 troops to quell the protest, “us[ing] any means” necessary. The conflict between the military and the protestors quickly escalated, and on the night of June 3rd, the military opened fire. The actual numbers were rapidly concealed, but estimates put the number of deaths between a few hundred to nearly ten thousand. Tiananmen Square is undeniably a turning point in Chinese history and in Deng’s political career; the prestige he held was considerably diminished, and the favor the CCP held among moderates within China was questioned. Deng’s response is almost unthinkable from a Western perspective, but the truth is that despite all his reforms, he was still a communist and staunch supporter of a CCP-controlled China. Preserving the regime was most important to Deng, and evidence seems to indicate that years later he still considered the actions he took against the protestors as necessary. What he did after the incident brings us to the final lesson.
Full size picture of the 1989 Tiananmen Square “Tank Man” photo. Photo by Charlie Cole
Lesson 4: Know When You Have Become Poison and Save the Regime from Yourself
The backlash against the killing of civilians was sufficiently damaging to the regime––both internally and externally––that a great rift in deciding Deng’s successor took place. Jiang Zemin was Party Committee Secretary of Shanghai and was relatively unknown amongst the general population when Deng handpicked him as his successor. Jiang was a moderate, a supporter of Deng’s reforms, and a general compromise between left and right wing candidates. The reason for Deng’s pick, argued by Ezra Vogel––author of perhaps the most famous biography of Deng––is that Jiang Zemin was not in Beijing at the time of Tiananmen Square Massacre, and had no affiliation with any of the decision-making leading up to it. Deng, therefore, was motivated by protecting the integrity of the regime and saving its reputation by those most closely associated with the events on June 4th, namely, himself.
Having to accept that your image is detrimental to your party is an exceedingly difficult thing to do. An act like this requires a subordination of one’s own interest to the interests of the state, but in doing so, the values one espouses in government can survive. I’d argue that the Republican party is due for a similar act. The current leadership projects an image radically distasteful to half the country and is incommensurate with the traditional values of the Republican party. Yet, Donald Trump likely will not abdicate his leadership role for the preservation of the party and will continue to exert his influence and power over it until the integrity of the party dissolves completely. His continued presence in the party will prevent other Republicans from building their own competitive voting bases in preparation for the 2024 Presidential Election, and Trump’s loyal voter base may not be enough to secure the win for himself. If this fissure splits the Republican constituency, the party will experience an identity crisis between Trump-era and more moderate conservatism that will make it harder for the party to be politically competitive. The longer Donald Trump remains the face of the Republican Party, the more the maintenance of a competitive two party state gets called into question.
Deng Xiaoping will be remembered throughout history for shepherding the transformational economic development of China in the 20th century. The heuristics demonstrated are a small portion of what can be gleaned from Deng’s career, but there is too much to learn from his extensive and complex life to do justice in a short article. What is most important from Deng’s political example, is the attempt to be pragmatic at every political crossroads. Ruling is hard, and oftentimes the map to get a nation from where it is to where you want it to be does not exist yet. This was the case throughout Deng’s career: no one had economically transformed a country so quickly, no one had lifted up so many millions out of poverty in a few decades, and no one had transformed a country into a major power so fast. Yet at every point, for better or for worse, Deng maintained a policy of “crossing the river by feeling the stones.” We would all do well to adopt such a strategy.
Sebastian Preising is a Columnist at CPR and a junior at Columbia College majoring in Political Science with a concentration in Mathematics.