Opinions

Vibrant, burgeoning modern China belies cold-war stereotypes

An American traveler headed for any of China's modern cities these days could be excused if, on arriving, he or she might imagine the plane made a couple of errant turns and landed right back in the United States. China's major cities -- Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou and Tianjin – and some deemed lesser simply by comparison with the giants -- Chongqing, Wuhan, Xian -- are dynamic, highly energized metropolises characterized by scores of architecturally innovative skyscrapers, a thriving, driving middle class, major state and private investment in commerce and infrastructure, all teeming with people. There are miles and miles and miles of new 33-story apartment complexes. In the city centers the franchise names Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Hermes, Cartier and Lanvin proliferate; the streets are full of BMWs, Buicks and Audis, and hordes of VWs, Fords and Hyundais, all made in China. Specialty restaurants abound; five-star hotels are everywhere. The general population is highly mobile; above poverty, private property ownership is virtually universal; social media is ubiquitous. It's not inappropriate these days to speak of a risen middle class in China.

Say what? This is communist China, where everything is supposed to be state-run and controlled, with no freedom of enterprise or expression, with public and secret police watching everyone. Where there's only one party on the election ballot and preferable treatment goes to party members, with the rest of the population doing what they're told on pain of arrest and imprisonment. Well not quite.

A tourist visitor can only get a glimpse in a month, of course, and generalizations are fraught with potential for misunderstanding and misreading. And certainly there are restrictions and limitations on contemporary life in China offensive to American sensitivities. But our historic paranoia in the U.S. with anything to which the label "communist" can be attached occludes our vision of China's modern reality. Peeling back the layers and looking at how people actually live reveals a much different picture.

Modern China is a bundle of contradictions. The population at present is about 50 percent urban, 50 percent rural. In the countryside, and on the underside of the cities, poverty is common and visible. Yet there is freedom of movement and easy internal migration. Some infrastructure is primitive, and in Beijing, at least, air pollution is not just uncomfortable; it's dangerous. Yet virtually every open space, and they're everywhere, is planted with flowers and shrubbery in the most creative and aesthetic designs imaginable. The populace thrives on social media, yet Google pulled out when the government demanded censorship, and Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Bloomberg, Reuters and The New York Times are all blocked. It's a state-run country, but there's no free public education; parents must make a "donation" to the neighborhood, or some other school. And subsidized health care costs are minimal. There's only one political party, but city and provincial elections are contested. To qualify for office, the country's president must have led governments in several different provinces. In the cities one can own an apartment, but the deed is good for only 70 years, and the government owns the land it sits on.

In a country of 1.35 billion people, the government bureaucracy, even at 7 million strong, cannot watch everyone all the time. But it's not necessary. Staff at the U.S. embassy in Beijing suggest that in 1989 Deng Xiaoping made a deal with the Chinese people: you keep out of politics, and economically you can do what you want, the so-called new "open door." The Chinese have taken it to heart. But the current president and party general secretary, Xi Jinping, means to enforce that deal. He recently ordered detention for two weeks of a group of women protesting sexual assault; they didn't have permission.

Yet the most energizing aspect of the society for a short-time visitor is the open friendliness of the people, who are accessible and appear happy. Everywhere they smile easily, and are unfailingly helpful. In neighborhoods away from the wealth and glitz, in the narrow alleyways in the crowded apartment complexes, they all seem to be out on low-key exercise equipment, which is in every block, every park, laughing, nodding "hello," tending children.

Put a visit on your "to do" list; it's worth every effort.

ADVERTISEMENT

Steve Haycox is professor emeritus of history at the University of Alaska Anchorage.

The views expressed here are the writer's own and are not necessarily endorsed by Alaska Dispatch News, which welcomes a broad range of viewpoints. To submit a piece for consideration, email commentary(at)alaskadispatch.com.

Steve Haycox

Steve Haycox is professor emeritus of history at the University of Alaska Anchorage.

ADVERTISEMENT