One—
The Idea of Continuing the Revolution

The subject of revolution has elicited a rich and voluminous scholarly literature. Much of that literature has been directed to the causes of revolution, under the implicit premise that if these causes could be avoided the probability of revolution might thereby be reduced.^[1] The post-Liberation experience of the People's Republic of China, however, brings to focus a different aspect of the revolutionary problematic. The Chinese revolutionaries, being among the few to inherit the fruits of their own upheaval, elevated revolution from an unpleasant but necessary transition to a legitimating ordeal, to be protracted indefinitely.

The desire to continue the revolution after power has been seized is not altogether unique. But in no other revolution in history has this attempt been as protracted, thoroughgoing, and consequential as in the Chinese case. Indeed, our contention is that the attempt to "continue the revolution under the dictatorship of the proletariat" has dominated Chinese politics more than any other single concern in the three decades since the founding of the People's Republic. This is not to say that there were not other important concerns competing for attention—one thinks for example of the drive for international status and autonomy, or national economic reconstruction. Nor is it to say that everyone always agreed upon this ranking of national priorities—there was at least one brief moment when the leadership seemed to have reached a consensus that the revolution had been consummated, and a much longer period during which there was disagreement over how it should be continued. Yet continue it did, following its own implacable logic. Some promoted and made the most of it, some were devoured by it, some accepted it with the ambivalence of the legendary "man who loved dragons."

In view of its centrality, "continuing revolution" would seem to provide the most promising thematic entrée to an understanding of Chinese politics in the post-Liberation era. How was it possible for the revolution to be sustained for so long? Did it succeed, by its own lights?

[1] For a timely survey of this literature, see Chalmers Johnson, Revolutionary Change (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1982 revised ed.).

Wherefore did it finally expire—or is the question perhaps premature? In its most recent official pronouncements on this question, the Party leadership has skirted the issue, renouncing the "theory of continuous revolution" but at the same time asserting that the revolution will resume in another guise.^[2] Certainly the series of reforms introduced since December 1978 have unleashed momentous socio-economic changes in China—do these betoken reversion to some prerevolutionary "capitalist road," continuation of a revolution that got derailed, or the launching of revolution in a new and quite different form? These are the questions that will concern us in the following study. Perhaps they are not altogether new ones, but this represents the first sustained effort to give them pride of place.^[3]

Framework of Analysis

It is appropriate at the outset to define the terms in the argument. The key definition, from which the meanings of all others logically derive,

[2] Resolution on CPC History (1949–1981 ) (Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 1981), pp. 84–85; see also the concluding chapter of this study.

[3] A number of excellent articles and one book have appeared that address the question of continuing revolution; these include Stuart Schram, "Mao Tse-tung and the Theory of Permanent Revolution," China Quarterly (hereinafter CQ ), no. 46 (April–June 1971): 221–45; John Bryan Starr, "Conceptual Foundations of Mao Tse-tung's Theory of Continuous Revolution," Asian Survey (hereinafter AS ) 11:6 (June 1971): 610–28; and Graham Young and Dennis Woodward, "From Contradictions among the People to Class Struggle: The Theories of Uninterrupted Revolution and Continuous Revolution," AS 18:9 (September 1978): 912–34. It is no detraction to point out that these articles are devoted to the "theory" rather than the actuality of continued revolution, focusing on how Mao reconciled his determination to continue the revolution with classical doctrine. The one book to have appeared under this title—John Starr's Continuing the Revolution : The Political Thought of Mao (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979)—is actually devoted to a comprehensive treatment of Mao's Thought, also from a "theoretical" point of view.

The only attempt known to me to deal with continuing revolution as an actual political phenomenon has been made by Richard Loewenthal. See his seminal article, "Development vs. Utopia in Communist Policy," in Chalmers Johnson, ed., Change in Communist Systems (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1970), pp. 33–117; also his sequel, "The Post-Revolutionary Phase in China and Russia," Studies in Comparative Communism , 16:3 (Autumn 1983): 191–203. These articles, being relatively brief in compass and at the same time comparative in scope, are unable to do full justice to the peculiarities of the Chinese situation, however, where revolution has been both more protracted and more populist in its dynamics. Also, whereas Loewenthal usefully points to the inherent tension between development and utopia, between "economic man" and "new man" (which allegedly spells the ultimate doom of the latter), it remains unclear from his analysis exactly what sustains the revolutionary animus. Finally, his bivariate analysis omits from consideration the impact of power , whether charismatic or bureaucratic (for an approach that juxtaposes power and ideology, see Barrington Moore, Soviet Politics: The Dilemma of Power [New York: Harper & Row, 1965]).

is that of revolution itself. Succinctly put, revolution is the smashing of the structure of political authority . The "structure of authority" is difficult to indicate empirically, as it consists of a relationship between leaders and masses, which may vary depending on regime type. Generally, it may be said to consist of that complex of instruments of violence, bureaucratic hierarchies, institutions of socialization, stratification structures, justificatory arguments, and other political resources whereby a regime ensures that its rules and policies are complied with, that its "order" prevails. Because this structure of authority creates a consensually agreed-upon frame of reference and currency of political exchange, its defense can be (and usually is) rationalized as functional for a political community and not just seen as self-serving for political elites. "Legitimate" politics occurs within the framework of this structure.^[4] "Revolutionary" politics involves an explicit confrontation between authorities and "rebels," culminating (when successful) in a "breakthrough" for the latter.^[5] A breakthrough may involve physical destruction of a regime's security forces, symbolic demonstration of its inability to enforce (or adhere to) its own core values, or some combination of military and symbolic techniques. Through whatever means, a breakthrough results in smashing the old structure and introducing a new one in its place.

Because the above conceptualization of revolution differs in this respect from Marxist and other approaches that place greater emphasis on underlying socio-economic variables (modes of production, class conflict, and so forth), it is worth noting that "politics" will have pride of place. Revolutions are "political" not only in their confrontation with established authority, but in the public character of the challenge they pose. A regime may be afflicted by various "latent contradictions," but until these have been articulated they remain outside the political arena. Thus, although an "industrial revolution" or a "consumer revolution" may precipitate great change, for example, because such phenomena do not explicitly confront political authority, we may ignore them (except insofar as they can be shown to affect such a confrontation). This will be worth bearing in mind when in the concluding chapter we address the prospect of continuing revolution under a reform regime.

Three "functional requisites" follow from this conceptualization of revolution, and we shall argue that all three must be present for revolu-

[4] The distinction drawn here between "legitimate" and "revolutionary" politics is analogous to Kuhn's well-known distinction between "normal" and "paradigmatic" science. Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962).

[5] The locus classicus for the concept of "revolutionary breakthrough" is Kenneth Jowitt, Revolutionary Breakthroughs and National Development (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971).

tion to continue. These are charismatic leadership, an illegitimate authority structure, and the constant mobilization of mass support.

Since Max Weber first introduced the concept of "charisma" to social science, it has been defined and redefined, both because of the intrinsic importance of the phenomenon to which it refers and because of the vagueness of the original defintion (e.g., Weber begins by defining the term subjectively, referring to the "supernatural, superhuman, or at least specifically exceptional powers or qualities" of the leader, then shifts to the objective criterion of the followers' perception of those qualities for empirical verification).^[6] In the redefinition proposed here, charisma is defined by both objective and subjective criteria, but the former are essential, the latter ancillary. The objective criterion of charismatic leadership is the performance of a salvationary mission . A "mission" (what the Chinese call a "line") is a set of policies bearing an imputed causal relationship to a desired future political end-state. "Salvationary" implies that the mission has three qualities: it solves the objective crisis in response to which it arises; it is distinctive, ideally sui generis; and it is qualitatively superior to all other missions, "utopian," a touchstone of value. "Performance" consists of (1) the implementation of policies implied by the mission, and (2) the actual efficacy of those policies in bringing about the desired solution. Without a mission to perform, charisma can quickly dissipate from the most mesmerizing personality (as Churchill would discover at the end of World War II).

The subjective dimension of charisma is secondary, consisting of the personal means necessary to perform the end. A charismatic leader should have the imagination to conceive a salvationary mission (and the latitude to exercise that imagination), and adequate symbolic skills to communicate (i.e., by orating, writing, dramatizing) that mission in a persuasive way. These subjective qualities are not personality-specific,

[6] Cf. Max Weber, On Charisma and Institution Building , ed. by S. N. Eisenstadt (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1968). Following Weber, the most noteworthy contributions to the analysis of the concept of charisma include Edward Shils, two articles in Center and Periphery: Essays in Macrosociology (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1975), pp. 256–75, 405–21; Joseph Bensman and Michael Givant, "Charisma and Modernity: The Use and Abuse of a Concept," Social Research 42, no. 4 (Winter 1975): 570–615; Martin E. Spencer, "What Is Charisma?" British Journal of Sociology 24, no. 3 (September 1973): 341–55; Richard J. Bord, "Toward a Social-Psychological Theory of Charismatic Social Influence Processes," Social Forces 53, no. 3 (March 1975): 485–97; Arthur Schweitzer, The Age of Charisma (Chicago: Nelson Hall, 1984); Joseph Nyomarkay, Charisma and Factionalism in the Nazi Party (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1967). Representative of those who emphasize the antitraditional, deviant aspects of charismatic ideology is Anthony Piepe, "Charisma and the Sacred: A Reevaluation," Pacific Sociological Review 14, no. 2 (April 1971): 147–63. Continuities with traditional culture receive relative emphasis in Ann Ruth Willner's The Spellbinders: Charismatic Political Leadership (New Haven: Yale Univeristy Press, 1984).

nor are they necessarily antibureaucratic; a charismatic leadership may be collective and preside over quite elaborate organizational arrangements, so long as (1) a public image of unity and resoluteness is preserved and (2) the organization plays a functional role in performing the salvationary mission.

The second prerequisite for a revolutionary situation is an illegitimate authority structure , against which the forces of revolution may array in self-definition. Inasmuch as legitimacy implies popular acceptance of the inherent justice of an incumbent's rule, its loss is indicated by a widespread belief that that rule is no longer just.^[7] Such a belief is of course to a considerable degree subjective and contingent upon one's stake in the status quo, but what is being judged is also an objective datum, consisting of the flawed exercise of power . Such a flaw is most apt to arise when a political system is subject to demand overload or resource scarcity, which may in turn be precipitated by any number of factors, ranging from pervasive corruption to natural or man-made disaster. Whatever its origin, flawed power exhibits a combination of apparent strength and underlying weakness . On the one hand, the incumbent is too weak to claim full sovereignty; on the other, the incumbert attempts to belie this weakness by imposing a harshly rigid, suppressive rule that imparts a general sense of constraint. That harshness provides points d'appui for a radical critique, while the underlying weakness allows ambit for that critique to be disseminated. In its role as a target of revolutionary criticism, the illegitimate authority structure combines some of the functions of a loyal opposition with those of scapegoating or witchcraft.

The third functional requisite is a mobilizable mass constituency . To be "mobilizable," a constituency (or politically significant grouping) must be given adequate reasons to engage in political activities transcending their established routines. These must include prospects for dramatic economic and/or political self-betterment as well as the rhetorical appeals whereby these prospects are rationalized in terms of some broader conception of the public interest. Mass mobilization thus involves an inevitable interaction between the economic system whereby material incentives are produced and the ideological apparatus whereby collective goals are articulated. People do not necessarily revolt simply because they are deprived, either absolutely or relatively, according to this conceptualization; however, some degree of mass deprivation may well facilitate a loss of faith in the legitimacy of the incumbent regime if persuasive arguments are presented to link that deprivation to the prevailing structure of authority.

[7] See Barrington Moore, Injustice: The Social Bases of Obedience and Revolt (White Plains, N. Y.: M. E. Sharpe, 1978).

How may these functions be most efficaciously fulfilled? There are two schools of thought on this question. The dominant school throughout the history of the Chinese Communist revolution has emphasized the quiet but elaborate organizational arrangement of events, in somewhat the way hydraulic engineers arrange for the raising or lowering of water levels (to use one of Liu Shaoqi's favorite metaphors) through a system of locks, rams, and sluices. This will hereafter be termed the "engineering" approach. The revolutionary engineers have held that effective revolutionary tactics are sequential (i.e., the revolution must proceed through scheduled stages), elitist (i.e., commands emanate from the leadership through a disciplined vertical hierarchy) and planned (i.e., there is a priority ranking of necessary tasks, with a functional division of labor for their accomplishment). But also making an occasional appearance has been a minority point of view, which holds that effective revolutionary tactics should be simultaneous (i.e., everything happens concurrently, but not because it is organizationally coordinated), egalitarian (constituting a relatively "flat" hierarchy, with innovation emanating from the bottom), and spontaneous (i.e., there is a functionally indiscriminate division of labor). This vision, redolent of Joshua's conquest of Jericho, will hereafter be dubbed the "storming" approach.

The presence of these contrasting approaches in the history of the Chinese Communist movement has sometimes been attributed to the "struggle between two lines," according to which Liu Shaoqi, Deng Xiaoping, Zhou Enlai, and other managerial types are supposed to have defended the engineering approach whereas Mao Zedong, Chen Boda, Jiang Qing, et al. espoused the storming approach. True enough, it was Mao who wrote the paradigmatic defense of simultaneous, egalitarian, spontaneous peasant uprising at the outset of his career, coining such memorable metaphors as a "spark" setting a "prairie fire" (perhaps originally derived from Lenin's Iskra ), a "wave," "storm," or "hurricane":

In a very short time, . . . several million peasants will rise like a mighty storm, like a hurricane, a force so swift and violent that no power, however great, will be able to hold it back. They will smash all the trammels that bind them and rush forward along the road to liberation. They will sweep all the imperialists, warlords, corrupt officials, local tyrants and evil gentry into their graves. Every revolutionary party and every revolutionary comrade will be put to the test, to be accepted or rejected as they decide. There are three alternatives. To march at their head and lead them? To trail behind them gesticulating and criticizing? Or to stand in their way and oppose them?^[8]

[8] "Report on an Investigation of the Peasant Movement in Hunan" (March 1927), in Selected Works of Mao Tse-tung (Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 1964), vol. 1: 23–24 (hereinafter SW ).

Mao was also primarily responsible for the "high tide" of collectivization in 1955–56, not to mention the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution. It is also true, as we shall see in chapter 3, that Mao was the foremost advocate of the micro-equivalent of storming at the level of personal ideological conversion.

Yet Mao was hardly the first to have availed himself of such rhetoric—Li Lisan was a "stormer" well before Mao, and Li Dazhao before him—even the writings of such archetypal "engineers" as Liu Shaoqi are replete with such passages. And if Mao's works are examined in their entirety it seems evident that he laid at least equal emphasis on a decidedly sequential, elite-directed, and well-planned strategy. This emphasis is particularly evident in his essays on the Second Revolutionary Civil War and the protracted War of Resistance against Japan, where his powers of analysis reach their acme. To pick only one example among many (for the bulk of the first three volumes of Mao's Selected Works is concerned with such minutiae), note his discriminating instructions on dealing with allies and enemies in "On Policy":

In the enemy-occupied and Kuomintang areas our policy is, on the one hand, to develop the United Front to the greatest possible extent and, on the other, to have well-selected cadres working underground. . . . With respect to the anti-Communist die-hards, ours is a revolutionary dual policy of uniting with them, insofar as they are still in favor of resisting Japan, and of isolating them, insofar as they are determined to oppose the Communist Party. . . . Even among the traitors and pro-Japanese elements there are people with a dual character, towards whom we should likewise employ a revolutionary dual policy. Insofar as they are pro-Japanese, our policy is to struggle against them and isolate them, but insofar as they vacillate, our policy is to draw them nearer to us and win them over. . . . Our tactics are guided by one and the same principle: to make use of contradictions, win over the many, oppose the few and crush our enemies one by one.^[9]

Although Mao did resort with increasing frequency to the storming approach in his later years, his essays are for the most part remote from the impetuous, romantic spirit of a tempest or prairie fire; they are, in fact, intricately organized, contain numerous periodizations, classificatory schemes, and analytical distinctions. They advise attitudes of patience, realism, restraint, prudence, and cool calculation.^[10] The resort to storming thus seems to have been a relatively exceptional one, even for Mao. The "two-line struggle" model has an appealing simplicity, but it is

[9] "On Policy" (December 25, 1940), in SW , vol. 2: 442–43.

[10] See Tang Tsou and Morton H. Halperin, "Mao Tse-tung's Revolutionary Strategy and Peking's International Behavior," American Political Science Review 59, no. 1 (March 1965): 80–99.

probably misleading to assume that factional cleavages among the leadership may be so neatly and logically accounted for.

For most of the period since the First Civil War (1927–36) the engineering approach was the consensual favorite. From such disasters as the Autumn Harvest, Nanchang, and Canton revolts the Party had learned not to attempt everything at once but to set clear priorities, husband its forces, and proceed in stages. It was from this background that the CPC approached the challenges of building socialism and continuing the revolution after power had been seized.

Prospectus

The sweeping policy reversals of the post-Mao period may be historically comprehended in one of at least three ways. The first would attribute change to an oscillatory pattern that has long characterized the Chinese policy process. There are several variants of oscillatory explanation, the most popular of which is the bivariate "two-line struggle" model: policy is under constant contention between "moderate" and "radical" elites, and the policy "line" oscillates according to factional vicissitudes.^[11] There are also trivariate,^[12] even quadrivariate^[13] versions of this model. Common to all is an attempt to reduce the range of policy variation to a limited number of possible alternatives, variation among which is however cyclical and recurrent rather than secular, sometimes following a predicted itinerary, sometimes aleatory. The future is in any case certain, for it has been seen in the past. The second explanation conceives of the post-Mao transformation in terms of the restoration of a tradition , con-

[11] There are actually two versions of this explanation, one of which focuses on the causal impact of elite factionalism, the other on the internal dynamics of the process of implementation. For good expositions of the former, see Parris H. Chang, Power and Policy in China (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1978, 2d enlarged ed.); also Byungjoon Ahn, Chinese Politics and the Cultural Revolution: Dynamics of Policy Processes (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1976); and Harry Harding, "Maoist Theories of Policy-Making and Organization," in Thomas W. Robinson, ed., The Cultural Revolution in China (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971), pp. 113–65. The best exemplar of the latter is G. William Skinner and Edwin O. Winckler's "Compliance Succession in Rural Communist China: A Cyclical Theory," in Amitai Etzioni, ed., A Sociological Reader on Complex Organizations (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1969, 2d ed.), pp. 410–38; see also E. O. Winckler, "Policy Oscillation in the People's Republic of China: A Reply, "CQ no. 68 (December 1976): 734–51.

[12] Dorothy Solinger, for example, perceives a cyclical conflict among bureaucrats, who favor increasing state control, marketeers, who give top priority to economic productivity, and radicals, who emphasize class conflict. See her Chinese Business under Socialism: The Politics of Domestic Commerce , 1949–1980 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984).

[13] In his discussion of elite attitudes toward the issue of bureaucratization, Harry Harding finds a split among rationalizers, radicals, and proponents of external remedial and internal remedial measures. See his Organizing China: The Problem of Bureaucracy , 1949–1976 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1981).

sisting of established worldviews, policy priorities, organizational predispositions, and cultural patterns, after an unfortunate but temporary radical deviation. That tradition, according to the most widely credited variant of this paradigm, represents a politically disciplined consensus around rapid economic growth and distributive equity, which for a variety of reasons was interrupted by an irrational outburst of radical egalitarianism and ideological inquisition.^[14] The minority variant deems the revolutionary tradition to have been so corrupted that its survival was at stake, and thus badly needing revitalization, from which the post-Mao changes are a regrettable relapse.^[15] Common to both variants of the restoration scenario (as well as the oscillatory model) is a conception of change within a familiar repertoire. The third explanation, on the other hand, views the post-Mao changes as marking the end of the epoch of continuing revolution and the dawning of a new era .

This study, while conceding elements of continuity and cyclical recurrence, is inclined to the third interpretation. The oscillatory patterns of the Maoist era defined themselves against a horizon of continuing revolution, in the context of which any tradition was more a forlorn hope than a stable reality. "Continuing the revolution under the dictatorship of the proletariat" retained the revolutionary animus of the pre-Liberation era by sustaining the drive to smash the structure of authority, though that structure had to be continously redefined. The functional requisites of that drive—charismatic leadership, an illegitimate authority structure, and continual mass mobilization—may be viewed as perishable assets. The sequence and manner of their exhaustion (either by successful accomplishment or by a convincing demonstration of unfeasibility) may be expected to have affected the form the revolution took in its successive stages.

Although the chapters follow in approximate chronological sequence, each chapter intends to make specific points in an argument, not simply to provide an historical narrative. To this end, such evidence will be marshaled as seems necessary to corroborate those points being made, and not too much more than that. If some stages in the sequence emerge in relatively lush empirical detail, this is because they have not yet been adequately covered in the literature. Thus the late Cultural Revolution period, which really brought home to all participants the utter folly of

[14] Perhaps most persuasively articulated in Frederick C. Teiwes, Leadership , Legitimacy , and Conflict in China: From a Charismatic Mao to the Politics of Succession (Armonk, N.Y.: M. E. Sharpe, 1984); the same thesis is implicit in his Politics and Purges in China: Rectification and the Decline of Party Norms, 1950 –1965 (White Plains, N.Y.: M. E. Sharpe, 1979).

[15] See Charles Bettelheim and Neil Burton, China since Mao (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1978); also Bob Avakian, The Loss in China and the Revolutionary Legacy of Mao Tsetung (Chicago: RCP Pub., 1978).

persevering with the "principles laid down," will be analyzed rather exhaustively, whereas the early Cultural Revolution, about which more ink has probably been spilt than any other period of comparable length in modern Chinese history, rates only one chapter.

The first phase of China's continuing revolution marked the heyday of the engineering approach. While the leadership pursued its war against society quite ruthlessly via unpredictable policy lurches, an uneasy consensus was maintained within the vanguard on an agenda of centrally planned, hierarchically organized, sequentially paced transformation. The successes achieved during this period not only convinced the leaders of the basic correctness of the policy course they had set but imparted the sense of self-confidence that later allowed them to depart from this course, steering the revolution into new and more hazardous waters. Chapter 2 consists of an analysis of charismatic leadership and mass mobilization during this first phase, relying on a combination of previously published sources and the more recent findings that have emerged in the post-Mao period.

Chapter 3 is concerned with structures of authority during this phase—both the residual structure against which the revolution continued to be directed and the emergent structure being constructed by the CPC. In the course of the remarkable initial successes and concluding failures of this phase, the residual structure began losing credibility as a target, while at the same time the more aversive features of the emergent CPC regime were becoming more visible. The first part of this chapter is concerned with changes in the objective structures, whereas the second investigates critical perception of those changes—particularly the ideas advanced by Mao Zedong, who seems to have devoted considerably more thought to these developments than his colleagues.

Chapter 4 consists of a reexamination of the early phase of the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution (1966–68). That attempt was to result in the most comprehensive revival of the storming approach since the late 1920s, albeit within a quite new and quite different context. Charismatic leadership became split from the bureaucracy; mass mobilization was pursued more or less spontaneously in response to vague elite cues, using a partially autonomous media network to mobilize an almost fully autonomous factional jumble of "revolutionary masses." The structure of authority against which the revolution was pitted was redefined to amalgamate rhetorically the prerevolutionary authority structure with that group of moderate bureaucrats within the Party who had opposed Mao, thereby conceptualizing a "capitalist road," or "bourgeois reactionary line." Whereas previous accounts of this great upheaval have typically viewed it as a somewhat unconventional purge (which it certainly was), this treatment will attempt to place it in the context of a serious attempt by the dominant ("Maoist") faction of the CPC leadership to

"continue the revolution" in the cultural superstructure (which it also was). The purpose is not merely to summarize the rich store of literature on this period but if possible to supplement it with an analysis of its neglected cultural dimension—which, it is argued, informed mundane political behavior. The assumption is that amid the disintegration of political structures, ideology came to assume a compensating importance; accordingly, we employ a methodology derived from structural linguistics to analyze the polemical rhetoric, showing how it symbolically reduplicated the authority structures it aimed to destroy.

If 1966–68 was the heyday of storming, the 1968–76 period might be termed "revisionist storming." Without abandoning the basic commitment to permanent mobilization as the only way to preserve revolutionary vitality, the leadership attempted to adapt this approach to the functional imperatives of self-sustaining economic development—albeit with indifferent success. Due to a dearth of relevant scholarly literature, and because developments during this period are so crucial to our understanding of how the prerequisites of revolution were ultimately exhausted, these developments receive scrutiny in no fewer than three chapters. Chapter 5 is concerned with charismatic leadership and the difficulties involved in attempting to arrange for its post-mortem survival. Chapter 6 focuses on the problems of reconciling mass mobilization with both thought reform and economic production. Chapter 7 examines the problems inherent in reconstructing authority at a time when authority structures remained under intense critical scrutiny and periodic public assault. These three chapters are based on a relatively comprehensive collection of primary and secondary sources, supplemented by interviews with former participants.

The final chapter pursues the revolution to its ambiguous denouement, in which it is at once discontinued and reaffirmed. After a brief interregnum during which Hua Guofeng fruitlessly attempted to revive the engineering approach, CPC theorists seem to have arrived at the conclusion that the revolution has in effect burnt out—though there is still considerable ambivalence about this conclusion, arising from the desire to preserve certain revolutionary values and legitimations. If this essay is correct in assigning overriding importance to the effort to continue the revolution during the first three decades after the seizure of power, such ambivalence is understandable. This "postrevolutionary" phase is an extremely formative one in China's political development, during which one paradigm is being abandoned or at least fundamentally reevaluated and various possibilities for a fresh start explored, with unprecedented openness. The People's Republic may long be expected to bear the stigmata of the tumultuous epoch that gave it birth, either by incorporating them (as in the yearning for emancipation and greater personal liberty) or by seeking to repress them (as in the abhorrence of chaos).