"History Beckons Again"

By Kurt Anderson

On the road in China, Reagan hears about opportunities and obstacles

Philosophically, it had been a long march indeed for Ronald Reagan. Just five years ago, when full diplomatic relations were established with China and cut with Taiwan, Candidate Reagan sputtered angrily. He said he had just watched Washington "cold-bloodedly betray a friend for political expediency. The memory will not go away." Maybe not, but it has obviously faded some. Reagan's frothy six days in the country that he used to call "Red China," is his presidency's most important foreign trip by far. Speaking in the Great Hall of the People in Peking, he alluded to Richard Nixon's epochal China trip twelve years ago. "I believe history beckons again," he said. "We have begun to write a new chapter for peace and progress in our histories, with America and China going forward hand in hand."

Reagan was interrupted by applause seven times in his 20-minute speech, and generously toasted wherever he went during the visit. Yet he discovered that Sino-American diplomacy can still be a very tricky affair. When China's government television system broadcast the President's Great Hall speech, 17 passages were judged provocative and excised (see box). To be sure, the speech also demonstrated that while the President has largely reversed himself on China, his conservative rhetoric has lost none of its crackle. He called the Soviet Union "wanton" and "brutal," and ascribed America's success to liberty and godliness. Although the President and his party made light of Chinese TV's bowdlerization of the speech (said Reagan to reporters: "You fellows do it all the time"), the Americans were sore over the incident.

If neither side fully understands the other, the Reagan visit certified that U.S.Chinese relations have passed through the first surge of enthusiasm, with its high hopes of vast strategic cooperation, toward a mature stage marked by a sense of continuity and prudent limits. Just two years ago relations had deteriorated badly. The Reagan Administration's early policy toward China, says a conservative Carter Administration policymaker, "was one of neglect, ignorance and insensitivity." Whatever problems may lie ahead, that benightedness now is gone.

Last weekend's display of good will was more than just a matter of pomp and pandas. Reagan met for serious talks with each of China's current leaders: de facto Ruler Deng Xiaoping, Premier Zhao Ziyang, Party Leader Hu Yaobang and President Li Xiannian. The Chinese mentioned Taiwan again and again, but in measured tones; ultimatums were not delivered. Deng, while forswearing any explicit alliance with Washington, made it clear over the course of his 2 1/2 hours with Reagan on Saturday that he shares the American President's fundamental distrust of the Soviets. Several trade agreements were firmed up.

Despite awkward moments here and there, the trip worked. Even the stern People's Daily ran extraordinarily puffy coverage of Reagan day after day, and the 30-minute Chinese TV news devoted up to ten minutes a night to the capitalist leader. "We have a self-satisfied glow," said a usually stiff-necked White House adviser. "We're walking around with smiles on our faces."

Some of that aura resulted from an expectation of political capital gains back home: images of a peaceable, statesmanlike Reagan, after all, can only help his re-election campaign. From the red-carpet welcoming ceremony in Tiananmen Square to the Reagans' 75-yard stroll on top of the Great Wall, there was a surfeit of what White House Aide Michael McManus called "highprofile presidential visuals." The U.S. press following Reagan numbered 300; TV news made up half that pack. Cracked ABC's acidic Sam Donaldson: "It's all just one big photo opportunity."

It is possible to fly from Washington to Peking in less than 20 hours. But Reagan was in no hurry. He was loose and mellow even by his own easygoing standards. The Reagans took a week getting from the White House to China, putting down for rest stops at their California ranch, in Hawaii and then on Guam.

Hawaii was pure holiday. Although the President carried his three-inch-thick briefing book as he padded to the beach in white bathing trunks Easter Monday, he mostly ignored it. Instead, he tried some broken-field running, using a coconut as a surrogate football, then exhibited a leisurely overhand crawl through the Pacific surf. The scene seemed reminiscent of the pictures from 1966 that purported to show Chairman Mao, then 72, swimming vigorously in the Yangtze River. During their day and two nights in the 50th state (they stop in the 49th, Alaska, this week), Reagan and Nancy chatted with Actors Jim Nabors (Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.) and Tom Selleck (Magnum, P.I.).

As Reagan headed for the country of the Great Helmsman--Mao--he kept calling himself "the great salesman." Indeed, both sides were most aggressive about pushing the commercial side of international chumminess. "The Pacific Basin is one of our fastest-growing markets," Reagan said at Honolulu's Hickam Field, using the geographical buzzword of the week. "We must work with our friends to keep the Pacific truly peaceful--an ocean for commerce, not conflict."

En route to Guam, Air Force One flight attendants handed out Taiwanese chopsticks ("A mistake," said a White House spokesman). The President slipped on a cool white guayabera shirt, while Nancy looked rather like an empress in her maroon lounging robe. As soon as Air Force One cut through the cloud cover and roared down toward Peking's airport, though, the balmy Pacific interlude was unquestionably over. The Chinese afternoon was dark and unseasonably chilly 54DEG F). Still, Reagan bounded coatless out of the 707, looking cheery as ever. The 19-mile drive into Peking must have been a sobering, almost allegorical journey: the twelve-limo Chinese-American motorcade sped down Lasting Peace Road, yet on each side lay a desolate, homely landscape.

In downtown Peking's Tiananmen Square, the ritualistic rhythms clicked into high gear. A mob of choreographed schoolchildren waved enormous paper flowers toward the Reagans and chanted, in Chinese, "Welcome, welcome--warm welcome!" Across the square, crack drill squads of army, navy and air force troops stood at attention, bayonets fixed, and a People's Liberation Army unit fired off a 21-gun artillery salute. But the most intriguing welcoming committee had been pushed by police 300 yards back across Chang An Avenue to the perimeter, beyond Reagan's view: thousands of ordinary Chinese, most of them young, who had come out on their own to glimpse the visiting American. It was the largest such spontaneous gathering for a foreign visitor that observers could recall.

Inside the Great Hall of the People, to which he would return half a dozen times, Reagan met with Li Xiannian, his nominal counterpart. It was a largely ceremonial meeting with a largely ceremonial Chinese President, but the chat provided a bright diplomatic omen: the men spoke for 35 minutes, several times as long as had been allotted.

Reagan started with a classic Reagan line: "A lot of problems disappear when we talk to each other," he said, "rather than about each other." Then he turned even sweeter, more avuncular. "One had only to look at the beautiful children we saw outside," Reagan told Li, "to know that our job as leaders is to deliver a better world to them than the one we found. That is what we are all here for." Replied Li, who is 78: "You said it very well. It is for the older generation to work for a better world."

Yet during the chat, Li did not shy away from mentioning the "obstacles" to international harmony--Peking's basic euphemism for U.S. support of Taiwan. All weekend the Chinese rulers would allude to that lingering obstacle. They seemed determined that no one, American or Chinese, get carried away with the effervescent bonhomie of the moment.

The heart of the visit came on Friday and Saturday. Reagan talked formally with Chinese leaders for some seven hours over the two days, most of that time around a conference table in a chamber of the Great Hall of the People. At Friday's sessions more than a dozen officials from each country faced each other across an expanse of green felt. Feisty, hard-line Hu Yaobang hectored Reagan about supposed American misapprehensions of Chinese foreign policy. The chemistry between the two, admitted one U.S. official "was not all that terrific." Nevertheless, Reagan was handing out invitations to visit Washington as if they were jelly beans, and Hu accepted his. The three hours of discussions with Premier Zhao, whom Reagan met in Washington in January, were unusually fast-paced. More than once the interpreters could not keep up with the conversation. "These two men are clearly comfortable with each other," said one State Department official. A White House adviser practically swooned about the encounter. "The meeting was extraordinary," he said. "It went exceedingly well, much better than I expected."

In fact, the Chinese Premier seemed downright playful at first. "I presume you never take a nap," he said. Reagan explained that, well, he did not nap easily. "You look very energetic at your age," remarked Zhao, 65. "People here say you look much younger than your age." Reagan, 73, born during the last year of China's dynastic rule, grinned broadly. "As far as I'm concerned," he said, "this meeting has already been a success."

Next morning before their long talk, Deng, the top leader, kidded the American some more. He took Nancy's hand. "I hope you'll come [alone] next time and leave the President," Deng said. "We won't maltreat you." She giggled, and Reagan chimed in, "It sounds like I'm the one being maltreated."

But the public platitudes and happy banter inevitably gave way to tougher discussions, particularly with Zhao and Deng (who used his spittoon just once while meeting with Reagan), that touched on areas where the Chinese are disapproving, most notably CIA mining of Nicaraguan harbors and U.S. refusal to deal directly with the P.L.O. The talks focused on fundamental policy areas:

Taiwan. The status of the island, which Peking claims is its province, has been the most contentious issue between the U.S. and China for 35 years, and will likely remain so. However, now that Reagan has acknowledged Peking's primacy, and no longer calls Taiwan the Republic of China, the diplomatic wrangling is mainly over matters of nuance. Before he left Washington, Reagan assured the Taipei regime that he would not abridge the Taiwan Relations Act, passed after diplomatic ties were severed. The U.S. had agreed to reduce weapons sales to Taiwan under the act, yet in the last fiscal year such sales increased 35%, to $783 million, before falling back to about $735 million. "We welcome the repeated promises of the U.S. Government leaders," said Zhao at a banquet for Reagan, to "strictly pursue a one-China policy. We expect these promises to be faithfully carried out in action." In private he told Reagan his government wants a "considerable" reduction in arms sales to Taipei. Deng mentioned Taiwan to Reagan in private, but gingerly, describing it as "a knot in our relationship that we have to untie."

The Soviet Union. Fifty-two Soviet army divisions sit along China's northern frontier. China shares with the U.S. a mistrust of Moscow's international designs, but its leaders bridle when U.S. strategy seems to regard them primarily as a strategic foil to the Soviets. Indeed, last week Moscow announced that First Deputy Prime Minister Ivan Arkhipov will make an official trip to China in mid-May; he will be the highest-ranking Kremlin visitor since the early 1960s. Moreover, Peking is seeking to become the Middle Kingdom in modern geopolitical terms, a genuinely nonaligned state.

Reagan slashed at the Soviets, but he was generally careful not to suggest in public that Peking was making common cause with the U.S. Even so, the Chinese were uncomfortable with Reagan's implications that both nations have the same anti-Soviet outlook. The Chinese mentioned their worry about the nuclear arms race, particularly the deployment of U.S. missiles in Europe. Deng was more sympathetic than Hu had been, conceding that the Euromissile equation had to be cast in terms of deterring the Soviets. But the Chinese feel that the U.S. should not deploy any more missiles and that the Soviets should dismantle theirs. Deng warned Reagan that if he pushes too hard in Europe he will risk a backlash among Western allies.

Korea. The didact Hu reminded Reagan that China opposes the presence of U.S. troops in South Korea. The salient issue, however, is reunification of the two Koreas. China has long urged the U.S. to sponsor talks with North and South Korea toward that end. Reagan suggested to Deng on Saturday that such talks would make sense only if China took part as a fourth negotiator. Deng begged off.

U.S.-Chinese trade. This is the area of the most unambiguous promise and, because of the unalloyed exploitation of China by Western capitalists in the past, one of the most deeply sensitive. This year's commerce between the two economies will approach $6 billion, a record. Only Japan trades more with China. The Chinese seek to sell more textiles in the U.S., and they want practically unlimited access to American technology.

In fact, the principal accomplishments of the trip concern trade. One routine treaty with Peking will regulate international corporate taxation. Not quite finished is an accord that would govern more sensitive business transactions, such as repatriation of profits and possible expropriation of U.S. property. Essentially, Washington is insisting that U.S. investors be granted the same financial rights as Chinese.*

Potentially most significant of all the drafts is the "executive agreement" that would permit the construction of nuclear reactors in China by U.S. companies. Negotiators had been haggling over the issue since 1981, and during the ten days preceding Reagan's visit, they met practically around the clock. The final sticking point: the Atomic Energy Act requires a foreign buyer of nuclear-power equipment to get Washington's permission whenever it wants to recycle used radioactive fuel, since reprocessed fuel can be used to make nuclear weapons. China, feeling its independence pinched, had refused to submit to the constraint until lust before the President arrived. Some hasty semantic finesse did the trick. Said one U.S. official in Peking: "The language is, quite frankly, fuzzy." The President has not formally signed it yet. Already, however, the woebegone U.S. nuclear industry is looking breathlessly at a country that is only now building its first, smallish reactor, but that plans to install a dozen much bigger plants by the end of the century. The Chinese nuclear business might be worth $20 billion or more to U.S. firms. Another agreement includes an especially glamorous provision: a planned 1984 American film festival in Peking with a greatest-hits bill from Hollywood's past few years, including Coal Miner's Daughter and Kramer vs. Kramer.

But then the Chinese leadership already had a walking, talking hunk of American cinematic history among them. Ronald Reagan, towering over his hosts (Hu is 4 ft. 11 in.), did his practiced star turn at huge banquets, small dinners and sightseeing forays in between. The Reagans' quarters were a guesthouse (Villa 12) on the sylvan grounds of Diaoyutai (Anglers' Platform), a compound built around three lakes and used as a retreat by China's last several ruling families. The Reagans' recently refurbished cottage, two stories of white brick with a blue-tile roof, had an indoor garden, a 1.2-ton mock Ming four-poster bed and--positively amazing by Chinese standards--a push-button telephone in the study.

While the President's Friday was mostly consumed by conferences with Chinese leaders, Nancy Reagan glided through a conventional First Lady-like schedule. Smiling, she toured the 15th century Temple of Heaven compound and its 123-foot-high prayer tower. "I'd like to stay [in China] much, much longer," she said at the temple. "I've been so excited about this for so long I haven't been able to sleep."

Smiling, she alighted at the Peking Zoo, there to present a World Wildlife Fund check for $13,007 (collected from thousands of American schoolchildren) and a pair of Jeep pickup trucks to help feed starving pandas in the wild. She accepted a panda plate ("Ahh!" she cooed), a panda photo album ("Ahh!") and panda badges ("Ahh!"). Yet even at the zoo, behind-the-scenes diplomatic maneuvering was required: Would the exuberant infant Cheng Cheng, a real panda, be suitably sedate for an audience with the First Lady? Yes. Cheng Cheng was wheeled out in a baby's stroller, an attendant holding a bottle of milk to the panda's mouth. The bear waved all four paws, sharp claws showing, but Nancy, still smiling, petted the animal without hesitation and crouched down next to him for closeups. Cheng Cheng's lunch dribbled onto Nancy's bright red skirt. After laughing over the spilled milk ("I'm a mother, so I'm used to this"), she made for the nearby Listening to Orioles Pavilion, and lunch.

If the Reagans were out to serve an ail-American chow-down Saturday night at the Great Wall Hotel (see box), the Chinese state dinner Friday in the Great Hall was quintessentially and extravagantly Chinese. Occidental Petroleum Chairman Armand Hammer, who had just completed a deal with the Chinese for a joint coal-mining venture, was a guest. With the Reagans deftly using ivory chopsticks at the head table, amid spun-sugar swans and lions sculpted of butter, the glowing tableau seemed to mix elements from Chinese dynasties and America's Dynasty. Reagan dutifully plowed through all nine courses, which included abalone with shark's fin and slices of duck.

Sunday was a purely touristy side trip to the archaeological sites at Xian, where the Reagans reviewed the 2,200-year-old regiment of terra cotta soldiers. On Monday the Reagans were scheduled to visit high-strung Shanghai. The itinerary featured a question-and-answer session with Fudan University students and a tour of an industrial-electronics factory set up last year as a U.S.-Chinese joint venture.

Reagan's trip dramatized a yearning on both sides for better relations, despite the substantive differences that separate them. Yet there is still a fragile, slightly uncertain edge to the friendship. Direct American investment in China is comparatively meager. The Chinese made it plain that their continuing split with the Soviet Union is not a rift it trusts to let Washington pry wider. No wonder: after 23 years, hysterical U.S. hostility gave way to a decade of infatuation with the world's most populous country. Only now are sentiments shifting toward a more or less reasonable center. "We're achieving a stable way to manage the differences between our two countries," says a high State Department official, "without either side blowing the relationship apart."

Ties between the U.S. and China do seem to be entering a promising phase. In public and in private, both Reagan and his hosts struck a good balance between hopefulness and clear-sighted sobriety. Reagan's Pacific overtures may have consisted more of ceremony and style than substance; but the President proved to the world, and to himself, that he can sit and deal in a friendly fashion with Communists. That point, and the trip, were worth making.

--By Kurt Andersen. Reported by David Aikman/Peking and Robert Ajemian and Laurence I. Barrett with the President

* The position is ironic. When Western business began penetrating China with a vengeance in the 19th century, Americans insisted on an exemption from Chinese law so they could operate under their own familiar commercial codes.

With reporting by DAVID AIKMAN, Robert Ajemian, Laurence I. Barrett