In the cutthroat world of Communist politics, there are no second chances—with one exception. Last week Peking's official Hsinhua News Agency announced that the Central Committee of the Communist Party had voted to restore Teng Hsiao-p'ing, 73, to his former posts as Vice Premier, Vice Chairman of the party and Chief of Staff of the Army. At the same time, said the communique, the "Gang of Four" headed by Mao Tse-tung's widow, Chiang Ch'ing, had "once and for all" been expelled from the party and dismissed "from all posts inside and outside the party."
It was a stunning triumph for Teng, a protege of the late Chou Enlai's, who was ousted from leadership positions by Mao in 1966, and again in 1976, when Chiang Ch'ing led the pack that hounded him into ignominy. Teng's return was also a dramatic demonstration of China's erratic course in the past decade—from pragmatism to radical zeal and back again. In modern Communist history, no other politician had ever risen to such heights of power and descended to such depths of disgrace—twice in a lifetime—and survived to rule again.
False Alarms. Teng's comeback—long expected but oft delayed—unfolded in the mysterious, equivocal style that is typical of high-level politics in China. The first signal that his official rehabilitation was forthcoming came early last week when a wall poster suddenly burst into view in the northern sector of Peking. Brushed on a 40-ft. strip of yellow paper, the bold black characters exhorted Chinese to warmly welcome and firmly support Teng's re-appointment to his former posts. During the night, however, the poster vanished, all traces of its message scraped off the wall. Some China watchers surmised that the poster had been an attempt by some of Teng's overzealous supporters to hasten his return to power. After all, they argued, posters that had appeared in Peking and Canton last spring announcing Teng's appointment as Premier had proved to be false alarms. The day after the disappearance of the first poster, however, several similar ones were sighted. Foreign residents heard the sound of cymbals and drums reverberating through the capital, suggesting that demonstrations were being rehearsed in preparation for celebrations of Teng's comeback.
At week's end more than one million celebrators swarmed through the steamy streets to Peking's T'ien An Men Square, where only 15 months ago demonstrators had inveighed against Teng's counterrevolutionary treachery. Rejoicing at Teng's comeback, they waved thousands of flags, pounded cymbals, beat drums, blew on trumpets and set off rockets and fireworks. In Shanghai, a city that last April had featured posters saying HANG THE CULPRIT TENG, 500,000 people turned out to celebrate his escape from the gallows. At the same time, Peking television showed film clips of China's new ruling troika. At Chairman Hua Kuo-feng's right hand sat Teng; at Hua's left was Defense Minister Yeh Chien-ying, 78.