Nelson Mandela/Deng Xiaoping & inclusive transformation

China's remarkable transformation under Deng was driven by economic pragmatism, political management

Nelson Mandela's Truth and Reconciliation Commission and Chairman Deng Xiaoping's national transformative approaches stand out as a way out of grave political crisis. Despite enduring 27 years of solitary confinement, Mandela set personal grievance aside and embarked on national reconciliation to heal wounds and help South Africa move.

Chairman Deng Xiaoping, too, inherited confusion and discord following the demise of the republic's founding father — Mao Zedong. In both cases, the mission was to heal, repair and pave the way for a better, inclusive future.

Few national transformations in the 20th century rival the scale and speed of China's shift after 1978. In Deng Xiaoping and the Transformation of China, Ezra Vogel documented how economic pragmatism, ideological flexibility and a willingness to experiment propelled China into unprecedented growth. But beneath the headline narrative of reforms lies an equally important story: Deng's political management. In a system ravaged by factionalism, Cultural Revolution scars and ideological rigidity, Deng advanced radical reforms while keeping the Communist Party intact. This was a product of deliberate strategy, calibrated pressure, and an instinct for compromise.

Deng's central insight was that long-term economic transformation required political stability — not democratisation, but elite unity, predictable governance and an end to revolutionary chaos. After Mao's death, China's political class was fragmented among radicals (the remnants of the Gang of Four), conservative ideologues (such as Hua Guofeng), rehabilitated technocrats and the military hierarchy. Deng did not simply outmanoeuvre these groups; he redefined their incentives.

His first move was reconciliation through rehabilitation. Rather than purge opponents as Mao had done, Deng allowed vast numbers of purged cadres, intellectuals and military officers to return to positions of influence. This was a strategic rebuilding of the bureaucracy. By bringing back experienced administrators, Deng regained institutional capacity needed for reform. Crucially, this rehabilitation also deprived conservative factions of their monopoly over state apparatus.

Second, Deng neutralised ideological resistance by reframing reforms as the continuation - not betrayal - of socialism. His now-famous slogans served a political purpose: "emancipating the mind," "seeking truth from facts," and "it doesn't matter whether a cat is black or white" were carefully crafted to de-ideologise policymaking. This shielded economic reforms from accusations of "capitalist restoration," a destructive charge during the Maoist decades. By redefining orthodoxy itself, Deng lowered the political costs for cadres to support experimentation.

Third, Deng excelled at building elite consensus through controlled pluralism. He did not attempt to rule alone; instead, he convened senior Party elders, military leaders, provincial bosses and policy technocrats, while keeping final authority centralised. This system of "consultative authoritarianism" allowed opponents to voice concerns without forming alternative power centres. It also established a culture of policy trial and error — what he called "crossing the river by feeling the stones" — that made reforms appear reversible and non-threatening, even as they quietly reshaped the economy.

Managing the conservative wing required firmer tools. Deng was willing to use selective coercion when necessary. When hardliners resisted opening or sought to recentralise control, Deng sidelined them through party reshuffles, forced retirements and strategic promotions; but keeping them limited to avoid sweeping purges that could destabilise the Party. His treatment of Hua Guofeng is a case in point: rather than publicly humiliating Mao's designated successor, Deng eased him out gradually, preserving institutional dignity and preventing factional retaliation.

Beyond the Party apparatus, Deng also had to handle opposition from ordinary citizens — workers anxious about losing iron-rice-bowl security, intellectuals demanding liberalisation, and rural populations affected by uneven reforms. Here, his strategy combined targeted concessions with strict limits. For example, the Democracy Wall movement of 1978-79 initially served Deng's purpose in discrediting the old system and showcasing public support for change. But when it morphed into calls for political pluralism, Deng shut it down firmly. His approach was consistent: economic space would expand, but political space would not.

A major component of Deng's success was redefining Party cohesion around national revitalisation, not ideological purity. He offered a new narrative to the ruling elite: China's rise depended on abandoning dogma and embracing disciplined modernisation. This positioned opponents of reform as impediments to national recovery, isolating them morally and politically. It was a masterstroke — Deng replaced revolutionary legitimacy with developmental legitimacy.

National reconciliation, too, was woven into this strategy. Deng supported restoring relations with previously marginalised groups — intellectuals, businessmen, overseas Chinese — to mobilise their skills and capital. He also endorsed limited outreach to Taiwan and Hong Kong as part of his broader effort to portray China as an open, modernising nation. Reconciliation was merely a tool for state-building.

The darkest moment for Deng's political tenure, of course, was the 1989 Tiananmen crisis. Vogel writes that from Deng's perspective, the protests represented a direct threat to Party unity and national stability — the two pillars of his life's work. The decision to use force irreparably harmed China's global image, but Deng judged that the Party could not survive prolonged political mobilisation. It was a harsh reminder that his commitment to reform never extended to pluralistic politics.

In the final analysis, Deng Xiaoping's political legacy rests on a paradox. He created a market-driven, globally integrated economy, yet preserved the Communist Party's system.

He restored flexibility, professionalisation and institutional capacity to the Party and reconciled enemies, coaxed sceptics, sidelined opponents and enforced discipline with unparalleled skill.

The rise of modern China was not only an economic miracle but a remarkable achievement that flowed from wisdom, vision, commitment and personal integrity. Deng understood that transformation will not work without broad-based cohesion and inclusion.