Peking Hotel
Peking Hotel with Liu He
Deng Xiaoping, Democracy Wall, and the Dialetics of China — with Orville Schell
0:00
Current time: 0:00 / Total time: -39:38
-39:38

Deng Xiaoping, Democracy Wall, and the Dialetics of China — with Orville Schell

When Deng Xiaoping arrived, they lost their minds. Overnight, all the corporate leaders were gathered; everybody wanted to wear a Mao suit.

I sat on CalTrain from Stanford to Berkeley, reading Orville’s book "To Get Rich Is Glorious". The vivid details of the 1980s jumped in front of my eyes: at the military shooting range, the People's Liberation Army escorted European and American tourists to play rifle shooting. In a dimly lit bar, men and women removed their Mao suits and danced disco arm-in-arm. Diagonally from the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall, a KFC restaurant suddenly opened, presenting a rivalry to Marxism-Leninist Maoism. At the time, the later famous rockstar Cui Jiang had just been expelled from the Beijing Song and Dance Ensemble and started his life as an underground band singer in the Maxim restaurant opened by Frenchman Pierre Cardin.

The 1980s in China seemed surreal, but it did happen, somehow. China was awakening from the dream of communism and was trying hard to shake off its post-communist hangover. A pent-up energy within China exploded and crushed the old order. We bid farewell to Maoist communism, once again at a revolutionary speed, "switched on the left signal and turned right" (打左灯向右转) and ran relentlessly in the opposite direction. The progress and stalling, conservatism and radicalism, harmony and contradictions of that era were all observed by Orville, a foreign journalist, and preserved in his observant writing.

I often enjoy reading foreigners writing about China because of the awareness and sharpness foreign observers bring from a different culture with its own sensitivities and freshness. And Orville certainly has an extraordinary awareness of the changes in China. In undergraduate, he studied Chinese history with John Fairbank, visited Taiwan in his gap year and even drank tea with Chiang Kai-shek. He first visited China in the 1970s with a special delegation under the auspice of Zhou Enlai. He observed China in the 80s first-hand as a writer for the New Yorker, New York Times and New York Review of Books, and built deep connections with the Chinese civil society. The 1980s gave Orville the realisation that, beneath the ironclad surface of Chinese politics, there lies a latent energy in Chinese society, full of conflicts and potential. He helped produce the definitive Tiananmen documentary "Gates of Heavenly Peace", which influenced a generation of people in China. After he left journalism, Orville served as dean of the School of Journalism at the University of California, Berkeley. He is currently the Director of the Center on U.S.-China Relations at the Asia Society.

As I got off the train at Berkeley North Station, the drizzles reminded me of London, with dark clouds and dampness. I walked out of the station and found Orville’s blue Tesla waiting. He leaned over to open the door, I jumped in, he folded the Financial Times newspaper in his hands, and drove to his house, chatting along the way. Within minutes, we were sitting in the living room of his house, facing a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, and began talking about his story.

The conversation below is an excerpt from a 14-hour oral history I did with Orville, recording four times at his home from last December to this January. Orville candidly shared his life story: family, growing up, studying, travelling, working, marrying, and, of course, China. I look forward to sharing more conversations in this series, such as the one below, so we can re-live China through the eyes of China experts over the past fifty years.

Deng Xiaoping’s Ten-Gallon Hat

Let’s pull ourselves back to Deng Xiaoping’s visit to America in 1979. You attended that trip as a journalist. Could you describe Deng’s trip for us?

That was an incredible moment. This happened because, in 1972, Kissinger and Nixon went to China and signed an accord with Mao Zedong and Zhao Enlai that committed to normalizing relations. Formal diplomatic normalization didn’t happen until Jimmy Carter in 1979, with people like Michel Oksenberg in the National Security Council, Zbigniew Brzezinski, and others. 

When Deng Xiaoping arrived, they lost their minds. Overnight, all the corporate leaders were gathered; everybody wanted to wear a Mao suit. 

They invited Deng Xiaoping to come, and I just happened to be writing for The New York Times. I could get into everything: the White House, the banquet, the whole thing in Washington. I went to Carter’s home state, Atlanta, with Deng Xiaoping. Then we went to Texas, the Johnson Space Center, and down to this rodeo. So, I got to watch all of this. 

Deng Xiaoping at the rodeo in Houston. Source: China Daily

The friendliness of the trip impressed me. Even though China had been ‘Red China’ and most of Washington despised the Communists, when Deng Xiaoping arrived, they just lost their minds. Overnight. Everybody wanted to go to the event and meet Deng Xiaoping, to the banquet and to the National Gallery. All the corporate leaders were gathered; everybody wanted to wear a Mao suit. 

This was also the first time Chinese television had done anything live from another country. They covered the whole trip. They didn't know what they were doing so they had a lot of help from CBS and NBC and doing satellite links.

Was this CCTV? 

Yeah. They had no experience doing something like this, but they did it. The TV networks created great camaraderie. This is the first time that anything related to China and the U.S. was broadcast live on TV in both countries. The Americans were really helping the Chinese. Obviously, Deng Xiaoping had given permission for collaboration, and his trip allowed the crews and the governments and everyone in China to like America.

It allowed America to see China in a friendly light, consorting with all these people in Washington. The rodeo and barbecue in Texas were the magical theatrical moment when Deng Xiaoping symbolically accepted America by wearing the cowboy hat, the ten-gallon hat.

And probably one of the greatest pieces of political theatricals in the 20th century. 

I think so. I remember sitting there behind Deng Xiaoping and his team with a Chinese person beside me. Everyone was just laughing. It was very touching because, after being strangled for decades, these two countries were breathing together and enjoying each other a little bit, feeling hopeful and optimistic. 

This is an attribute of the relationship that Xi Jinping strangled. He has no conception of how to do that. Why? Probably because, unlike Deng Xiaoping, he sees America as the enemy. I don't think Deng Xiaoping saw it that way. When Deng came, I remember he stopped in Paris to bring croissants on the plane. There was something in him that was not ideological. I'm sure he's a good Leninist, but he wasn't insecure. He was five-foot-four high, was he? But he had an amazing air of sovereignty despite his diminutive stature. We have missed this in other leaders, Hu Jintao, and certainly in Xi Jinping, who, as far as I can see, must be deeply insecure and papers it all over with ceremony, ritual, and bravado, trying to be a big shot. I don't think that was Deng Xiaoping's issue.

I remember he gave an interview with the Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci. It was a wonderful interview. You felt like you were talking to a human being. Yes, she was Italian, and we got him going. But those things aren't imaginable now.

How do you reconcile the seemingly contradicting facts that Deng Xiaoping was such a normal human being, yet he would later order a massacre? Isn’t it scarier that a normal human being can simultaneously commit such brutality?

The massacre was just awful, one of the worst things in modern Chinese history. Deng Xiaoping was a man of confidence and sovereignty and not an insecure man. Deng seemed so deeply wounded and humiliated by what had happened in Tiananmen Square, his sacred center of the center, and he couldn't control it. He had Gorbachev coming and couldn't have a proper ceremony in Tiananmen Square, but he had to greet him at the airport instead. 

I think these things made Deng feel deeply rebuked, spurned, disesteemed and humiliated. The sign of that is in the transcripts of the secret meeting between Deng and Brent Scowcroft, Bush’s national security advisor, a few days after the massacre when President Bush sent Scowcroft secretly to China. Even the ambassador in China didn't know about this trip.

He was blaming America every sentence of the way.

In every sentence, he was blaming Scowcroft. And Scowcroft was down on his knees begging, saying, please, please, please, you don't understand. President Bush thinks of you as his friend. He does not want this friendship with China to be broken even though a horrible thing happened. And Deng Xiaoping said it's your fault. You caused it. You're the one who should pay for it. You're the one who should make restitution, not me. It was a desperate display to this man who'd flown all the way over, pusillanimously and humiliatingly, to beg China to keep the relationship going. So you could see that even Deng, as strong as he was as a leader, was hurt and very human.

And a master at political manipulation. 

Yes, he must have been.

He is a political veteran who rose three times and fell three times. In 1979, he came to America, begging the Americans to cooperate with the Chinese. Only in ten years, when the Chinese economy was still only a tenth of the American economy, did Deng somehow get the Americans to ask for forgiveness after Deng ordered a massacre.

Well, god bless America for trying not to let everything crash and burn. I thought it was too excessive when I read that transcript. However, that showed that America was trying not to rupture its relationship with this other significant power. Rightfully or wrongfully, I see it as a play where you must understand the characters. Deng was hurt deeply. It doesn’t excuse it, but I understand it. 

Nonetheless, after that, he went on his Nanxun (南巡) down south, said reform had to go on, maybe not political reform, but did continue certain reforms. There followed a warmer period with Jiang Zemin. But some lessons had been learned about the extent of reform. History does change and has inflexion points and no society is one thing constantly forever. But there is no society, in my view, in a big nation that's more unresolved than that of China.

The 80s in China under the Democracy Wall

Can you describe China in the 80s? What did the 80s mean for you?

What characterizes those years the best is the comparison between the 80s and the preceding decade, when Mao was still alive, and the Cultural Revolution continued until he died in 1976. During the Mao era, most of us traveling in China thought: this is China. There was no suggestion of otherwise, although after the fact, you could see occasional hints popping up around the country, but they were very modest. There was no sign that within China lay the capacity for anything much different than what we'd experienced over the three decades of communism.

People started to have debates and talks, almost like an outdoor concert, a contemporary library. 

Then, things began to turn in 1977 and 1978. Mao died, Deng was re-elevated and cashiered, and Hua Guofeng was deputized to be the Party General Secretary. Zhou Enlai died, and Tiananmen Square was filled with hundreds of thousands of people as an expression of opposition to what had been happening. Then, the Gang of Four was arrested, and Deng Xiaoping returned at the end of 1978 and began to enunciate his reform and opening program. Everybody was wondering: what's going on here? Is this just more smoke and mirrors, or could something real happen? 

On the Democracy Wall IN 1979, the poster read ‘Worship the people, not the leader’. Source: VOA

In 1979, the Democracy Wall movement erupted. This unprepossessing wall around a municipal bus parking lot on Xidan and Avenue of Eternal Peace suddenly started being festooned with posters and statements. People started to have debates and talks, almost like an outdoor concert, a contemporary library. 

The Democracy Wall Movement went on for weeks, but it was not the kind of thing that the Chinese Communist Party, the good Leninist Party, would embrace because it was too self-generating and spontaneous. So, people like Wei Jingsheng began attacking Deng, saying he wasn't a real reformer but just another dictator. Wei Jingsheng called for the ‘fifth modernization’ - democracy- an amazing piece he wrote. So began this very interesting decade from 1979 to 1989, when there were extraordinary things every year. 

Only in retrospect could we see how experimental and open-minded Hu Yaobang was. He allowed things like village and local elections; people could run for lower-level positions. And in 1981, I spent six weeks in Tibet and couldn’t believe what I saw. Everything used to be communized: all the nomads and their yak herds and sheep herds. All of this was falling apart. Hu Yaobang had pulled all of the Chinese cadres out of Tibet and said the Tibetans ought to manage themselves. He even let the Dalai Lama's brother and sister go back to Qinghai, where the Dalai Lama was born, outside of Xining, the capital of Qinghai. And, of course, they were mobbed by Tibetan Buddhist believers. The leadership absorbed that sort of thing. 

Zhao Ziyang and Fang Lizhi

In 1986, NBC took the whole network to Shanghai and Beijing: the Today Show, the Nightly News, and several other shows. It was like a country going to China. I knew Tom Brokaw, the anchorman at NBC. We were seeking an interview with Zhao Ziyang, and he agreed to it. But Brokaw had just interviewed the Dalai Lama in India, a sensitive topic.

Zhao Ziyang said, well, I'll give an interview to Brokaw, but I want to see what he did with the Dalai Lama. So Brokaw gave the tape to Zhao Ziyang. He watched it, said OK, then sat down with Brokaw for two hours. I remember vividly he sat beside Brokaw at a table, drinking beer and talking to Tom Brokaw like a normal human being about everything under the sun, smiling, laughing. 

Brokaw's historic Meet the Press interview with Zhao Ziyang.

Brokaw’s interview with Zhao Ziyang holding a beer. Source: Asia Society

At one point, the subject of Fang Lizhi came up. Fang Lizhi was my good friend and had just been kicked out of the Party. He had been vice-chancellor of the University of Science and Technology. And so Brokaw challenged Zhao Ziyang, saying, “That’s a bad example of you persecuting intellectuals that disagree with you”. To my astonishment, Zhao Ziyang said that some of Fang Lizhi’s activities did not bespeak him as a disciplined, loyal party member, so he was expelled from the Party, but nothing else would happen to him. That was a pretty moderate response. You don't want to play in our party; you're out, but we will not put you in jail.

China was loosening up, and it was going to pull the Party back from controlling everything in the life of the Chinese people. 

They did take his vice chancellorship away but gave him a place in Beijing and employed him in another institute. He could still interact with people and go abroad. As he went around Europe, he wrote in a very humanistic way, looking at art and at how the Italians preserved buildings instead of just destroying the old. There were short reflective ruminations China had not had by a man who was not only smart but a rationalist, empiricist, and scientist. He had very interesting and bold views. He said communism was like an old, worn-out dress that you had to remove and get rid of. This was hard for the Party to take, but they did. 

So that decade instilled hopefulness in people and gave birth to the idea of flexible authoritarianism, that China was loosening up, and it was going to pull the Party back from controlling everything in the life of the Chinese people. 

‘To get rich is glorious’

And then, private industries began to spring up. There was nothing in the street when I was first there in the 70s; you could hardly buy anything anywhere. And then suddenly, everybody poured into the streets selling everything: clothes, CDs, Chinese medicine. You could get your shoes shined and watches fixed. All the ‘educated youth’ and older people educated at May 7th Cadre Schools nationwide were let go. They were pouring back into the cities but had no jobs. Official Danweis couldn’t hire them. These people were called ‘Dai Ye’, ‘waiting for work’, instead of unemployed because it would look bad. 

Suddenly, there were markets twice a week in a village or a country town. You're driving through the countryside and running into these private markets full of people bartering and haggling. Peasants from all around would come in with donkey carts, selling cabbages, tools, whatever they had to sell.

And for the countryside, I've never seen anything like it. Suddenly, there were markets twice weekly in a village or a country town. You're driving through the countryside and running into these private markets full of people bartering and haggling. Peasants from all around would come in with donkey carts, selling cabbages, tools, whatever they had to sell. Almost just like that, China saw a spontaneous eruption of private, very small-scale entrepreneurship. No matter where you looked, the country was coming alive again in a more open, free-spirited, entrepreneurial, market-based way. 

Foreign journalists were let in for the first time in 1979. All of the major media sent one or two people. Suddenly, Beijing had 30 foreign journalists who had never been there before. And they, too, could see these things manifesting. They didn't need to talk to anybody or have secret documents. They didn't need to do anything but look.

I was still writing for The New Yorker then. I wrote this whole series about what I saw, which later came out as a book, ‘To Get Rich is Glorious’ because that was the slogan. It struck me as the most incongruous slogan after Mao's slogans about destroying markets and foreign intervention. 

And the previous slogan was ‘labour was glorious’. Now, being a capitalist was glorious.

Deng Xiaoping said it's OK for some people to get rich first. When we look back at this period, some people say, well, China was still run by Leninists, and the Party was still in control. It was epiphenomenal on the surface but nothing really had changed. Fair enough. But something had changed. And the Party understood it. They could see, my God, what have we unleashed here? If this goes too far, we're going to get overturned. There's a constant struggle between these forces: the conservative, old malice, the Leninists, and the people who wanted to start private businesses and build houses. 

So, it was very exciting to be there, to watch it, and to see the optimism. It wasn’t just Chinese intellectuals and professionals. You have to remember that these reforms started in the countryside. The first thing they did was dismantle the renmin gongshe, the People's Communes. That seemed like the Forbidden City that was going to last forever. That was Mao's keystone reorganizational offering to China. It was unthinkable before. Suddenly, people from the New York Stock Exchange, banks, credit card companies, and investors started trooping in the 1980s. And Deng Xiaoping and his gang said, well, let's get together. 

Hosting Deng Pufang at Orville’s ranch

I remember Deng Pufang - Deng Xiaoping’s son - was coming to America. The Rockefeller Foundation sponsored his trip, or maybe it was the National Committee on U.S.-China Relations. They wanted to bring Deng Pufang to the countryside in America. I said, well, come to our ranch, and we could go to the little country school. So out comes Deng Pufang in a giant Cadillac limousine with highway patrol blazing sirens behind him.

We visited this little school my son went to in West Marin, then to our ranch, and had a barbecue on the porch. We had a nice barbecue, and of course, he wanted hot sauce, I guess because he was from Sichuan. It was very nice. He was on our deck looking out over the Pacific Ocean in his wheelchair.

That kind of interaction is unthinkable now. It was all organized not by the government – the Chinese government obviously was involved – but by foundations and civil society, an emblem of the openness and interaction that went on. It was very hopeful, particularly for Westerners but perhaps also for the Chinese, who had the fundamental notion of Marxism based on Hegelian dialectics of history moving in a certain direction. In Marx's case, it was towards revolution, socialism and paradise. The Western version was that, as Martin Luther King said, the arc of history bends towards justice. It was a simple notion. Hegel's teleology was a history progressing towards greater openness and a higher stage of human activity.

The End of History and Tiananmen Square

Perhaps also in the spirit of Francis Fukuyama, who argued for the end of history.

Very much. He came up with the end of history, which had a direction. And this demonstrated to us that even China was now being influenced by it. And so we may all be forgiven for having an excess of hopefulness and optimism. I still wrote repeatedly about the regressive tendencies I saw, wondering just how far it could go, whether China could progress to the point where the Party might become not a one-party state but something else. 

There's much more to be said about the 1980s. The publishing industry exploded, with all kinds of book translations from abroad. You could write almost anything. Private companies started publishing, not just state-owned ones. Magazines, newspapers, all sorts of things started that were previously unthinkable. 

This all culminated when Hu Yaobang, whom people had appreciated as being quite open, got kicked out. Nobody could do anything about it because there was no easy way to protest. But when he died, in classic Chinese tradition, people poured out to memorialize and celebrate his life. People flooded into Tiananmen Square. 

Students from the Central Academy of Fine Arts holding Hu Yaobang’s memorial flag in Tiananmen, 1989. Source: NYT

1989 was so strange for me because, coincidentally, Baifang and I had organized a trip with Chen Kaige and Hong Huang, who were married then, and Geremie Barme from Australia. We were so taken by the openness of everything, we got some money from the Rockefeller family to have a conference of Chinese artists, intellectuals and filmmakers right by our ranch out in West Marin, at this wonderful little conference center sitting on the cliff looking out over the ocean. We invited 20 people from China and had about an equal number from America. We had Michel Oksenberg, Andy Nathan, Perry Link, Tom Gold from Berkeley. Peter Tarnoff came with the Council on Foreign Relations and was sponsored by the New York Review of Books. Liu Binyan was there, and so were Su Xiaokang, Beidao, Wang Ruoshui, and Wu Tianming. At that very time, Hu Yaobang had died, and people had started to go into Tiananmen Square.

I held the gathering because I thought of the May 4th Movement when these interesting people came out. I thought maybe the 1980s were like that. Let's get these people together and see what they think, sitting on a cliff in Northern California. Liu Xiaobo was going to come. He was at Columbia University and on his way here but then decided to return to Beijing.

So there we were, and things were breaking loose in Beijing. We were getting calls at night from Fang Lizhi about what was happening, and we were all sitting there, listening. This was in April. When it was over, everybody jumped on a plane to Beijing. We spent the whole time there. It was one of the most profound historical experiences I have ever had a chance to watch and participate in. Every day, something happens; it is like a television series. To make matters worse for the Party, Gorbachev was coming, so the Chinese Communist Party had invited every media outlet in the world to cover Gorbachev and Deng Xiaoping kissing, making up, and saying all was forgiven on the side of the Soviet dispute, so let's be friends.

So they had a terrible dilemma. All these journalists arrived daily, and the Party had mayhem in the square. The square turned into a soundstage—the worst possible nightmare for the Party.

Orville’s photo at the Tiananmen protest with his wife Baifang and Liu Xiaobo, later Nobel Peace laureate

It wasn't just any square. It was THE square, at the very heart of the Republic.

The center of the center of the center, the biggest square in the world with the Great Hall of the People, Zhongnanhai, Forbidden City, the Museum of History, Mao's mausoleum. Mao's portrait was there, which was splattered with ink at one point and was considered an incredible insult.

Every day, we'd get up and go down. And oh my god, it was just extraordinary to watch that unfold. Different people poured in: first, students and professionals. And then came the workers. And then came people on the trains from all over China. And it ended, of course, very sadly. Before it ended, Zhao Ziyang appeared in a bus with Wen Jiabao, lamenting that the Party had come too late. He had been in North Korea for a while, so he wasn't there when big decisions were made. That was a fatal error and the last we saw of him.

Image

Zhao Ziyang’s last public appearance, meeting students in Tiananmen Square, with the future premier Wen Jiabao behind him. Source: Twitter

Recommended readings

Gordon & Hinton, 1996, Gates of Heavenly Peace

Liu, 1979, People or Monsters, People’s Literature

Lu, 2019, Zhao Ziyang, INK

Schell, 1984, To Get Rich is Glorious, Pantheon Books

Schell, 2020, The Death of Engagement, The Wire China

Wei, 1979, The Fifth Modernization, Democracy Wall

Thanks & follow us

The Peking Hotel podcast and newsletter are a bilingual online publication that takes you down memory lane of recent history in China, and narrates China’s reality through the personal tales of China experts. We present subjective, opinionated, and coloured views of veterans in the field based on their first-hand experience and direct observations. The project grew out of Leo’s research at Hoover Institution where he collects long oral history of China experts living in America. The stories here are a reminder of what China used to be and what it is capable of becoming. 

This episode is co-produced with China Books Review, a new digital magazine about everything China and bookish. A special shoutout to the editor, Alec, for supporting the Peking Hotel and to Taili Ni for sound-editing.

Since this is only my first episode, any feedback from our audience (you!) is warmly appreciated. We also have a Chinese-language Substack. I hope to publish more conversations like this one, so stay tuned!

I am recruiting a producer and editor to help me run this Substack. Drop me an email at heliu@stanford.edu if you are interested.


Thanks for reading Peking Hotel! Subscribe here for future updates. Share with friends, or repost on social media. Your support means a lot to me.

Discussion about this podcast

Peking Hotel
Peking Hotel with Liu He
The Peking Hotel podcast and newsletter are digital publications in which Liu He interviews China specialists about their first-hand experiences and observations from decades past. Their stories are a reminder of what China used to be and what it is capable of becoming.