The year 1982 was marked by repeated signs of Soviet interest in improving relations with China. Negotiations to chart a new course in the relationship between these two countries finally began in October. While the fate of these negotiations remained uncertain at the time this article was being written, the onus was largely on the Soviet leaders to show that they were capable of the sort of flexibility that the Nixon Republicans had demonstrated barely a decade earlier in wooing the Chinese. The Sino-Soviet talks provided a test of Soviet tolerance for diversity in international communism and of willingness to take tangible steps towards demilitarization. They also raised questions about the internal process of evaluating conditions in other countries, reporting on them to the Soviet people, and advising leaders on their significance. After 20 years of negative assessments of communist policies in China, what basis could be found for an optimistic outlook in 1982? In the six years after Mao's death what was the role of Moscow's China-watchers in preparing the way for overtures to China's leaders? This article examines the background behind the Soviet initiative of 1982 and the different outlooks found among China specialists.

Western economists who are interested in the analysis of the contemporary Chinese economy are currently confronted with challenging analytical tasks arising from two remarkable events. The first is the new post-Mao government's attempt to reform the economic system of centralized, physical planning that characterized the Mao regime in the direction of a system of decentralized and market-orientated planning (referred to as “reform” policy). Side by side with this systemic reform, the previous development policy of high growth and high investment, which gave top priority to heavy industry, is being replaced by a new one which aims at securing a steady increase in personal consumption and in which investment allocation is weighted in favour of light industry and agriculture. Of these new strategies, the latter is already being rigorously put into force (and even accompanied by a drastic deflatory effect), starting with an interim measure to reduce the over-inflated production of heavy industry in favour of raising that of light industry and agriculture (referred to as “adjustment” policy). The former component for the systemic reform of the economy is still at an experimental stage, but Chinese planners and economists appear to be very busy in discussing and preparing even more comprehensive reforms.

The Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution began with the publication of Yao Wenyuan's article, “Comment on the new historical play ‘Hai Rui Dismissed from Office’,” which alluded to Chairman Mao's summary dismissal of Defence Minister Peng Dehuai six years earlier. The article first appeared in the 10 November 1965 issue of the Shanghai Wen Hui Daily under Chairman Mao's personal direction through the Shanghai Municipal Party Committee. The curious unrolling of the Cultural Revolution during the subsequent three years through the consolidating Ninth Party Congress in the spring of 1969, exhibited three essential characteristics: first of all, an unprecedented increase in proselytizing for the Thought of Mao Zedong; secondly, an unprecedented leftist purging of the majority of the Politburo and Central Committee leadership; and finally, an unprecedented infusion of outside youth and soldiers of the People's Liberation Army to fill the vacated leadership posts.

It is difficult to be objective about the Cultural Revolution. Difficulties were encountered during the event itself (which is variously defined as the years 1966–69 or, less usefully, the whole period 1966–76) by its proponents and its victims. With the reversal of the political fortunes of the victims, objectivity seemed even more unlikely. But as 1976 (or 1969) moved further into the past, even in China a more measured assessment of the significance of the Cultural Revolution and its aftermath began to be made at all levels (both official and unofficial) of the political public.

Fudan is one of China's few universities to survive the vicissitudes of this century's political upheavals, with a tradition of almost 80 years' standing. Many of the colleges which sprung up at the same time perished with the 1911 Revolution, and others of similar character disappeared in the reorganization of Chinese higher education in 1952. It may be significant, therefore, that Fudan was chosen by Chinese Communist leaders to become one of the main comprehensive universities for south China in 1952, which suggests that certain aspects of the tradition for which it was known were considered acceptable and worthy of continuation under the new people's government. Perhaps its development had demonstrated some small measure of success in the exacting task facing Chinese higher education in this century, that of creating a modern Chinese-style university on the ruins of the traditional education system whose values persisted in spite of the abolition of the Imperial examinations in 1905, the year in which Fudan was born.

At a meeting of the Association for Asian Studies in March 1961, Professor Bernard Morris read a paper on Sino-Soviet relations which began as follows:

Almost a decade ago, the late Franz Borkenau wrote that a profound conflict between the communist regimes of Russia and China is in the long run as certain as anything in politics. He based his prediction on the strength of two arguments. First, it is in the very nature of totalitarian regimes to establish their absolute control as far as they can; they therefore cannot have genuine allies but must seek to dominate. Secondly, the unity of the communist world movement is axiomatic for every Leninist. Hence it follows that the Kremlin must exert control over all communist parties. This thrust of Soviet totalitarianism, Borkenau argued, is therefore incompatible with Mao Tse-tung's clear desire to be a leader in his own right and to preserve Chinese national independence.