China

By SANDRA BURTON BEIJING

The Chinese Communist Party took no chances last week when it staged its first press conference since last June's Tiananmen massacre. The 300 accredited Chinese and foreign journalists underwent a tight security check at the entrance to the Great Hall of the People. Inside the meeting room, those selected to ask questions were planted within easy view of the men on the dais. As the six members of the Politburo Standing Committee filed in, wearing Western business suits and fixed smiles, one stood out as the first among equals. "Good morning," Jiang Zemin said in English, waving gamely to his audience.

The televised media event on the eve of celebrations marking the 40th anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China was the most public step yet in the grooming of Jiang, 63, to succeed 85-year-old party patriarch Deng Xiaoping. When Jiang, the mayor of Shanghai, was selected in June to replace ousted General Secretary Zhao Ziyang, most Chinese were surprised. An engineer who lacks both a political power base and ties to the increasingly influential military, Jiang was considered a seat warmer ultimately destined for lesser things.

But since then a series of leaks to the foreign press of internal party circulars has provided documentation of Deng's efforts to convince conservative claimants to his throne that the reform-minded Jiang should follow in the footsteps of Mao Zedong and Deng and serve as "the core" of the party's "third-generation" leadership. By playing such a prominent role in last week's anniversary observances, Jiang has achieved front-runner status in the race to succeed Deng. Put another way, Jiang has won his New Hampshire primary -- but the race is far from over.

Jiang's press performance did more than heighten his visibility. It also dampened speculation that he might serve as Deng's front man for correcting the current conservative tilt within the party's divided leadership and salvaging Deng's embattled program of economic reform and bridge building to the outside world. Although Jiang played no known role in the decision to order the People's Liberation Army into Beijing, he went even further last week than reactionary Premier Li Peng did when he was asked whether the "Tiananmen tragedy" could have been avoided.

"We do not believe there was any tragedy in Tiananmen Square," declared Jiang. The incident, he went on, was the "unavoidable" consequence of the attempt by some demonstrators to "overthrow the socialist system." He likened media reports about the situation in Beijing to "fairy tales from the Arabian Nights."

Although a strong proponent of reform since 1981, when he investigated prospects for setting up Special Economic Zones inside China, Jiang referred economic questions to Vice Premier Yao Yilin, an advocate of the strong central planning that stunted the country's development before Deng came to power. Later in the week, Jiang gave a major anniversary address to top party leaders, model workers and soldiers that was larded with phrases from China's Stalinist past. "Failure to stick to the socialist road, while using the blood and sweat of laborers to fatten the capitalist class, will plunge most of the Chinese people into extreme poverty once again," he warned. Referring to sanctions imposed on China by some Western nations, he vowed never to "give up our national independence in exchange for alms."

As the third party leader to hold the post in three years, Jiang could not have helped pondering the fate that befell Zhao and his predecessor, the late Hu Yaobang. Both were touted as Deng's heirs apparent before falling from grace for espousing political change and failing to prevent "bourgeois liberalization," the socialist code words for Western capitalist influences. Jiang appeared to be charting a more cautious course for himself by echoing the rhetoric of the elderly hard-liners who rallied behind Deng to suppress the democracy movement but then went on to attack his ambitious program of economic reforms. "The differences between Zhao Ziyang and Jiang Zemin are very, very slight," said an East European analyst who has met them both, "but Jiang is more pragmatic. He understands who is stronger at the moment, and that is why he must stick to the line."

Yet there is good reason to remain skeptical about Jiang's ability to salvage Deng's precious reforms while the old man is still alive, much less consolidate power after Deng dies. Tensions exist between Jiang and Premier Li, who appears to have lost influence to the new General Secretary. President Yang Shangkun, reputedly the mastermind behind last June's military crackdown, is known to covet Deng's last remaining official post, chairman of the all- powerful Central Military Commission. Should Deng retire, he could presumably designate Jiang to succeed him on the CMC. The army refused to accept Deng's previous heirs apparent, however, and there is little reason to think that Yang and the veteran revolutionaries who remain the true arbiters of power would be any more kindly disposed toward Jiang.

"He wears the imperial purple uneasily," observed a Beijing intellectual, who predicted that the new General Secretary would be unable to outmaneuver his reactionary rivals. In that event, the high-stakes contest to find a successor capable of reconciling the ghosts of China's past with the promise of the future would likely be a protracted one, a race that could continue long after Deng Xiaoping passes from the scene.