A spectre now haunts communism. It is the spectre of complete transcendence. To overcome its own identity, communism, through the tortuous process of Hegelian dialectics, has decided to embrace its other. Two recent developments in the Middle Kingdom confirm this statement. On May Day, China, still ostensibly a communist-ruled state, honoured private entrepreneurs as 'model workers''. Such a thing would have been beyond the imagination even a few years ago when China decided to step into the open world of the free market. This is of a piece with the more startling proposal mooted by none other that Mr Jiang Zemin, the president of China, that bosses of private enterprises should be admitted as party members. It would be idle to speculate whether these signal the adaptability of communism or the ultimate victory of capitalism. What is certain is that the great wall of Chinese communism has been breached. In the heyday of Chinese communism, despite its open hostility to the then Soviet Union, the Chinese communist party had been avowedly Stalinist in its organization and its orientation. Mao Zedong cultivated the personality cult and the system of purges within the party, the hallmarks of the Stalinist system in Soviet Russia. The central committee of the Chinese communist party after its conclave in October last year admitted in their 3,400 world communiqué that 'the world is changing''. It has taken the mandarins of the communist party a long time to realize this rather obvious fact. Indian comrades, especially those who at one time upheld the 'Peking line'' against 'Soviet right wing deviation'', might consider taking a leaf or two out of the books their Chinese counterparts are rewriting. There are signs that this may already be happening. Time was when the Communist Party of India (Marxist) revelled in flaunting its taboos. Capitalists, running dogs of imperialism et al - all the abusive labels that drummed into the ears of comrades in party cells - were out. Only loyal comrades swearing allegiance to the dictatorship of the proletariat could be party members or fellow travellers. But now communists, especially those in West Bengal, are somewhat wiser. They not exactly admit the folly of their past policies but are willing to act with capitalists in a spirit of friendship and cooperation. Eminent industrialists, quondam class enemies, are not barred from entering the portals of the party headquarters in Alimuddin Street. And communist leaders wine and dine with the great and the good of the business world. The rhetoric remains unaltered, lip service is still paid to the revolution and wreaths are still laid at the foot of Lenin's statue on his birthday, but the praxis has changed. West Bengal still does not have a capitalist who holds a red card. But Beijing might be setting the trend for the future. These developments may not have any significance for the future of communism since it is already dead. But its historical significance for capitalism is an open question. But it can be answered with the memorable words of Zhou en Lai, who, when asked on the bicentenary of 1789 about the significance of the year, said, 'It is too early to say.''