Unlikely leader brought stability to China after crushing of 1989 student protests
Jiang Zemin’s metamorphosis in 1989 from a seasoned yet unimpressive bureaucrat into the leader of a Chinese Communist Party almost torn asunder by the brutal suppression of the Tiananmen Square democracy movement ranks as one of the more unlikely events in China’s modern political history.
More remarkable still was his ability to impose his will gradually over a demoralised, highly factionalised party composed of a bruised People’s Liberation Army; a formidable band of revolutionary veterans determined to protect ‘‘their’’ revolution from popular unrest; and a number of rivals who thought him simply not up to the job.
Jiang, who has died aged 96, was the primary
– though not always paramount – figure in Chinese politics from 1989 to 2003, first as general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), then as chairman and president. Before him only Deng Xiaoping, his mentor, and Mao Zedong exercised power for longer.
Since Jiang was hardly their equal, his survival amid the maelstrom of Chinese politics pointed to strengths that critics overlooked. Among them was a revolutionary pedigree, careful cultivation of his political elders, the skilful appointment of allies – and good fortune.
The transformation of China during Jiang’s ascendancy was even more surprising than the career of the man who presided over it. A few days after he was appointed general secretary in succession to Zhao Ziyang – the reformer whom the elders sacked in May 1989 because of his refusal to countenance the use of force against the student-led protests – Beijing was a city under siege.
The evolution of communism into something resembling a more liberal, market economy appeared at an end. The contrast with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev was stark. Yet the effects of more than a decade of economic reform under Jiang penetrated almost every part of China. For all but the first two years he was in power, China’s economy was the fastest growing in the world: under his watch it tripled in size and its export performance was a phenomenon.
The picture was marred by the fragility of the financial system, endemic corruption, rising unemployment and rural unrest. Environmental problems were, and remain, severe. However, if opinions differed over whether the ‘‘rise’’ of China was a threat or an opportunity for the rest of the world, there seemed little doubt that developments during Jiang’s leadership had significant implications for the global economy and the international balance of power.
He secured an improvement in ties with the US, in the face of many setbacks. Under his leadership China joined the World Trade Organisation – another landmark achievement long sought by the country’s leaders. Beijing also secured the right to hold the 2008 Olympic Games, a cause that Jiang pursued with a remarkable sense of purpose.
Jiang Zemin was born in Yangzhou. The adopted son of a communist killed in the Sino-japanese War, he inadvertently acquired a revolutionary pedigree that would stand him in good stead given the party’s fondness for its own ‘‘aristocracy’’.
He trained as an automobile engineer in Moscow in the mid-1950s and returned to manage a power plant in a vehicle factory in China’s northeast. He then moved into party work, building a reputation for reliability and surviving the purges of Mao’s era largely because of his relative unimportance and innate caution.
He was chosen as party general secretary, through constitutionally questionable means, on the night of May 27, 1989, when eight revolutionary veterans gathered in Deng’s Beijing home. All had an extremely proprietorial attitude towards the party and the country, which they imagined to be in peril should their personal rule be challenged. Jiang remained in the capital while troops crushed the Tiananmen Square protests during a night of violence on June 3-4 and terrorised the city in the days that followed.
He enjoyed the opportunities to play the international statesman afforded by his position at home (where his broad mouth, oversize glasses and generous waistline earned him the nickname ‘‘toad’’). This was particularly noticeable when he and his wife, Wang Yeping, conducted an official visit to the US in 1997. He sought to project a relaxed image, trying on funny hats and breaking into song whenever possible, on one occasion crooning Elvis Presley’s Love Me Tender.
He and Wang married in 1949 and had two sons. Jiang agreed to step down as party general secretary in favour of Hu Jintao in 2002. In March 2003 he relinquished the state presidency to make way for the younger man.
Posterity will be in a better position than contemporaries to assess Jiang Zemin’s precise contributions to the China of today. Perhaps of most interest to historians will be the military suppression of the 1989 democracy movement. Since Jiang, though not responsible for the bloodshed, was its chief political beneficiary, he had little interest in opening up the episode to discussion, let alone to a formal examination that might lead to an enforced public apology and the prosecution of those responsible for the military assault on civilians.