WHENEVER Mao Tse-tung, the 76-year-old leader of 750 million Chinese, slips from the public eye for any length of time, the world beyond his closed kingdom soon begins to buzz with rumors of his illness or even death. In late 1965 and early 1966, Mao faded from view for six months, only to reappear suddenly and launch his disruptive Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution. This year the Chairman's last public appearance occurred in mid-May —more than four months ago—and speculation about his health has begun to mount once again.
Earlier this month, Washington picked up an unconfirmed report that Mao was paralyzed; at about the same time Sinologists in Hong Kong heard rumors, from sources inside and outside China, that he was gravely ill. Then, from Moscow late last week, came the most detailed report to date. Communist sources there told TIME Bureau Chief Jerrold Schecter that Mao had suffered a stroke on Sept. 2 and was in critical condition; only a massive medical effort was keeping him alive. According to the sources, while Mao alternated between coma and consciousness decision-making in Peking was being handled by a triumvirate: Defense Minister Lin Piao, officially designated by the party last spring as Mao's heir; Premier Chou Enlai; and Ideologue Chen Pota, one of the main figures in the Cultural Revolution. The report hinted that a Chou-Lin power struggle was expected—and made clear a preference for Chou.
Mao Tse-tung's incapacitation or death would mark the end of China's most momentous era. Mao took a fragmented, warring nation, plunged it into the crucible of a Communist revolution, and for two decades thereafter used persuasion and terror to keep it from falling apart. He restructured the social order of the world's most populous nation and made China a power to be reckoned with. Within China, Mao's departure could result in a further loosening of Peking's central authority, already curtailed in the chaos of the Cultural Revolution. It could also lead to a relaxation of the zealous, puritanical quality of Maoist Communism. Outside the country, there could be significant changes in long-frozen positions on the Sino-Soviet split and China's relations with the U.S.
Ho's Funeral. What gave the Moscow story of Mao's illness an authentic ring was some of the specific information on which it rested. Mao's stroke, the sources said, explained why Chou left Hanoi so hurriedly on Sept. 4, without even bothering to wait for Ho Chi Minh's funeral. At the time, the speed with which he departed for Peking was interpreted as an attempt to avoid Soviet Premier Aleksei Kosygin, who was about to arrive for the ceremonies.
There was also at least one puzzling difference between the Moscow report and reports put out by China. The Moscow sources said, for example, that when Chou met with Kosygin in Peking on Sept. 11, he was accompanied by Lin and Chen. They even noted that Lin, who has suffered from tuberculosis for many years, had to leave the room twice because of coughing seizures. But the Chinese had announced that Chou's companions during the Kosygin meeting were Vice Premiers Li Hsien-nien and Hsieh Fushih. Why would Peking have troubled to disguise the presence of Lin and Chen—unless it feared that their presence might have tipped China-watchers to the existence of a crisis?