A Military Cast

China's Communists are not much noted for a sense of humor, but there must have been at least a glimmer of a smile when they elected a former U.S. Air Force colonel as an alternate member of the party's Central Committee. The colonel in question is Dr. Chien Hsueh-shen, a product of M.I.T. and Caltech. Chien, who was commissioned in the U.S.A.F. during World War II, headed a missile-research team in Germany at war's end. In 1955, he was expelled from the U.S. as a suspected Communist. Since then he has made important contributions to China's nuclear-weapons program. Not that he was the only weaponry expert who moved into a position of influence in the party. Last week, as reports on the recently concluded Ninth Party Congress flooded out of Peking, the increasing pre-eminence of the military in China's politics was as easy to read as a big-character wall poster.

Under The Gun. There was a certain inevitability to the military's new power. During the uncultured excesses of the Cultural Revolution, Red Guards encouraged by Chairman Mao Tse-tung smashed much of the country's administrative machinery. In its place, regional power centers appeared. Of the 29 Revolutionary Committees that administer China today, 20 are controlled by army officers and the balance are run by men known to sympathize with the army's aims. The party now has become all but subordinate to the army, in clear contradiction of the Maoist dictum: "The party commands the gun; the gun will never be allowed to command the party."

The army's influence was most apparent in the newly elected Central Committee: of its 170 members, 105 are either soldiers or civilians with solid military backgrounds. Its meeting in Peking last week to elect a new Politburo and Standing Committee produced several surprises. Mao was, of course, re-elected chairman, and newly anointed Successor Lin Piao was chosen as the only vice chairman. However, Premier Chou Enlai, who had long clung to his ranking as third in the power hierarchy, was listed with two others as simply a member of the Standing Committee. China watchers saw this as a distinct loss of influence for Chou, who has a well-deserved reputation as an expert in political survival. Another surprise was the small size of the Standing Committee itself. In 1966, as the Cultural Revolution began, its membership doubled to 14 men. Now it is down to five,* indicating that Mao is intent on holding tightly to control.

Distaff Power. The Politburo selections are equally intriguing. Besides the five Standing Committee members, 16 ordinary members were named--and nine were from the military. Among other Politburocrats were Chiang Ching and Yeh Chun, the wives of Mao and Lin, five holdovers from the previous Politburo, and Yao Wenyuan, rumored to be Mao's son-in-law.

When some move up, others must move down. Three of Chou's closest associates were dropped, among them Foreign Minister Chen Yi. All three had come under heavy Red Guard fire over the past three years, and analysts believe that Mao, despite Chou's attempts to protect them, decided that they were dispensable. In general, the Politburo now seems divided into three main groups: the Mao-Lin section (twelve members), which retains control; the People's Liberation Army segment (six members), which mistrusts Lin because he espoused the extremism and instability of the Cultural Revolution; and the so-called Pragmatists, which now encompasses only Chou and Li Hsien-nien. The key factor in the changes is the rise to power of military leaders who do not necessarily favor Lin and his slavish support of Mao's all-out radicalization. With Chou's moderate faction hit hard, the new army types are expected to take over Chou's old job of tempering Maoist extremism.

*Mao, Lin, Chou, Chen Pota and Kang Sheng.

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