In China’s ‘moody city’, Ming gets a snazzy makeover and the Olympic Games are just six years and a few million dollars away

Beijing, Beijing

It's been called a ‘‘moody city’’, a city of contrasts and contradictions, burnt to the ground by Genghis Khan in 1215 AD in a fit of pique (he quickly repented, rebuilt it and passed it on to his grandson, Kublai Khan), and ever since, subject to the whimsies of dynasties over centuries. From the Ming emperors in the 1400s to the contemporary princelings of the People’s Republic, Beijing has suffered and survived dogma and diktat to emerge as one of the world’s most powerful and glorious cities. It has been China’s capital now for some 800 years (except for a brief 35 years in the late 1300s when the Ming kings shifted it to Nanjing) and is marked by the stylistic brilliance of the Forbidden City’s pavilions as well as Stalin’s grimmer socialist-realist beacons of the 1950s. But it must be the magnificent surrender to the architectural kitsch of ‘Red Capitalism’ in the last decade that marks out this remarkable city. A nervous explosion of glass and steel pumping upwards into the sky, a cross between the confident skyscrapers of Manhattan and the impudence of Hong Kong, these upstarts are nevertheless relieved by the fluid lines of traditional Ming symbols.

The snazziness extends to the buildings that house ministries and other government offices, but on the front, emblazoned in bold, gold letters remains the unmistakable old slogan ‘Wei Ren Men Fuwu’. Serve The People. It’s as if the Communist Party remains the iron hand within the glittering glove of reincarnated Capitalism. Certainly, the creation of wealth has become a primary motive in the uplift of China’s citizenry. So why bother to hide it?

China’s new great game

There's a feverish air about Beijing these days. Mayor Liu Qi, also president of the Beijing Organising Committee for the Summer Olympics, is fast acquiring a reputation for being able to pull off the ultimate miracle. The opportunity to host the hottest, biggest and most prestigious show in the world, the Summer Games in 2008, when all roads will lead to Beijing. In the face of Western disapproval for China’s ‘‘strike hard’’ policies — that includes death by hanging — against tax-evaders and common criminals and political dissidents, the International Olympic Committee last year approved Beijing as the city of choice. They had to be wheedled and cajoled and persuaded to do so, of course, but Mayor Liu left nothing to chance. Last time around in 1989, China had lost out to Australia for the 2004 Games because of the massive criticism against the Tiananmen events. Beijing never forgot the loss of face. This time, the lobbying effort was mounted at various levels. China won. Some $200 million will be spent in the construction of 19 new venues and another $300 million for the restoration of old venues, even as 50 per cent of the city is set to be forested by 2007.

Terms of endearment

William Shakespeare never heard of China, clearly, otherwise he would never have attempted to write that ‘What’s in a name’ poem. In China, as anyone will tell you, there’s lots. The foreign language of power these days is either American or English, not even Japanese, even though trade and investment with Tokyo is higher than that with Washington. So its no surprise that the Defence ministry headquarters in Beijing, exuding the gravitas of Socialism-Realism, is more often than not now referred to as the ‘‘Chinese Pentagon.’’ On the other hand, some names never change, even though the thing they are naming has been through a couple of mere political revolutions. The Beijing Glorious Land Agricultural Co. Ltd, located just outside the capital, for example, is now a private enterprise on contract to the village collective, growing flowers and plants through tissue culture in hothouses and selling them in the city.

Here’s what the ‘Glorious Land’ brochure had to say for itself: ‘‘After bitter and intense competition for existence, people can labour themselves in the field, or have a walk on the serene path against the golden sun-set, breathing moist air and smelling mud. Any anxiety and fatigue will disappear,’’ So now we know.

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