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POWER SHIFT:
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ASIA | March 16, 1998 VOL. 151 NO. 10 |
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A Soft Landing for a Hard Liner
 fficials in beijing refer to zhu rongji, not always kindly, as "boss." But the man Zhu has answered to for much of the past decade-monochromatic Communist Party stalwart Li Peng-has no intention of altering that relationship when he hands over his job as Premier at the close of the current National People's Congress. The 69-year-old Li, who has served in the post longer than anyone save his legendary mentor, Zhou Enlai, managed to keep his No. 2 ranking in the Party hierarchy during the power shuffle that saw Zhu (No. 3) emerge as his presumed successor last fall. Li also secured the relatively high-profile post of npc chairman, squeezing out rival Qiao Shi.
Although Qiao generally gets credit for turning the rubber-stamp parliament into a slightly more substantive body supervising government work, it is Li who still commands loyalty among hard-line party elders as well as longtime bureaucrats (many of whom stand to lose their jobs in the transition). Li theoretically could put the brakes on Zhu's more ambitious economic reforms; some China-watchers believe he already played a part in scaling back parts of Zhu's plan to eliminate several ministries. Although the suave Zhu will likely spend more face time in China's dealings with the outside world, Li will still exert a dominant influence on foreign policy as chairman of the party's leading group on foreign affairs. Like a budaoweng, the round Chinese doll that always rolls back upright, Li has cheated his demise before. Born with an immaculate Red pedigree-both his parents were active party members-he was adopted by Zhou during the 1930s civil war against Chiang Kai-shek's Kuomintang. He thus built ties early on with the revolution's Old Guard, and he nurtures their support carefully even now. That backing-particularly from the late Deng Xiaoping, another patron-has covered Li's flanks. Critics wishfully predicted his downfall after he ordered martial law in Beijing in the days before the Tiananmen Square killings of June 4, 1989, which overseas earned him the sobriquet "Butcher of Beijing". In 1993, after surviving a heart attack and when his first term as Premier came to a close, many foreign experts thought the fast-rising Zhu would take his place. But Li, still pale, doggedly returned to work even before he had fully recovered. His longevity has long baffled his critics. "People will always remember him because of June 4," says a Beijing journalist and a Li-basher. "But they also feel the country has too many problems now. And he has proven he can keep the country stable." Nevertheless, Li's star has diminished of late, and his stamp on policy has become less apparent. "He cruised through the end of his term," says a government official. "He didn't want to do anything that would displease anybody." Concurs a Western diplomat in Beijing: "Li does not like to stick his neck out. He takes positions where there is little political risk." The former hydropower engineer seems happiest directing major infrastructure projects, like the gargantuan Three Gorges Dam (known as "Li's Great Wall"), where he can delve deeply into blueprints and mechanical systems. Observers say that his formidable wife, retired official Zhu Lin, has pushed him to stay politically active. She is said to have pressured Li, for example, to attend several events, like the joint International Monetary Fund and World Bank conference in Hong Kong last year. Anyone who watched Li's presentation of last week's npc keynote address-which he delivered seated, coughing frequently and botching several lines-might think him seriously in decline, with his party ranking preserved only as a token of respect. But given the Premier's resilient record, no one should count him out yet. By Nisid Hajari. Reported by Jaime A. FlorCruz and Mia Turner/Beijing
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