Beijing Saturday 10 December 2011
Today was an odd day. It was a search for the China, the Peking, I liked so much in 1993. But I am afraid it is gone. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. This morning I got the metro to Qianmen and went in search of the entry to the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall. The queue was not very long, and it was moving at a nice steady pace. Security was very tight (no bags, and definitely no cameras). The hall is quite impressive, and it looks something like the National Library in Canberra, the Nation's Capital. On the way to the front door several people bought a single yellow flower, for three yuan, to place at the feet of a large statue of a seated Chairman Mao in the outer chamber. The space in front of the statue was nearly full of flowers, so no doubt they eventually make their way back to the little shop later in the day. A nice little earner that must be. As we approached the inner chamber, most people became subdued, though there were a couple of men still chatting away loudly (just try and keep a bunch of Chinese quiet). A highly decorated military man hissed at the remaining talkers, and must have told them to take off their hats. They uncovered their heads, and shut their mouths quick smart.
Then it was into the inner chamber. It was very '70s in decor; wood panelling, hidden lighting, and potted plants. The chairman was under glass, on a slight incline, wearing a green Mao suit. A Chinese flag covered him from the chest down. He looked like a wax figure, even his hair looked fake. But I suppose there is no reason to doubt that it really is he. So this is the man responsible for the death, suffering and misery of millions of people. But to what end? Across the road from him are now a KFC, and malls full of crappy shops. Mao has become nothing more than a curious relic; a pop culture image on a tacky watch selling for 120 yuan. If he had a proper grave, I suppose he would be spinning in it. There was no chance to linger, and members of the Peoples' Liberation Army kept everyone moving at a steady pace. Then it out the other side back into the late morning sun. It was an interesting visit, and as an exercise in the macabre it was certainly a worthwhile. In a way it was also the closest I have come to capturing the nostalgia of that 1993 visit.
After I picked up my bag and camera I went over the road to have lunch at KFC. I must admit that it was the best KFC I have had in years. The chicken was crispy, the chips where just perfect, and the Pepsi Max cold and sparkling. Thus fortified, I made my way up to the Meridian Gate for my third visit to the Imperial Palace. The crowds were huge and completely lacking in any historical respect. But it was nice to be back again. It was cold, but sunny and clear (I am yet to experience anything but blue skies in Beijing). I wondered about slowly for a couple of hours. There was nothing new since 2007; all the same exhibitions, the same displays. The face lift for the Olympic Games has not been maintained, and some parts were looking a bit tired and run down.
I went to my favourite spot in the Imperial Garden. In 1993 there were old men sitting around chatting, with their little singing birds in cages nearby. There were also the smiling ladies selling the hot snacks from their little hot plates. They are long gone, and Imperial Garden has lost a great deal of its charm. It now feels somehow sterile; overrun my dozens of loud Chinese tourists. I had afternoon tea at a new cafe. It was a complete rip-off; 65 yuan for a small heated up bowl of Gōngbǎo Jīdīng, a huge scoop of stodgy rice, and a dry, tasteless muffin. I planned to stay until dusk and closing time, and hopefully experience something of the peace and quiet that must descend on the palace as the crowds depart. One new thing I did see was the Hall of Mental Cultivation where, on 12 February 1912, the Dowager Empress Longyu signed the Imperial Edict that granted China a republican government (well, I had seen it before, but did not realise its importance). The Articles of Favourable Treatment meant that the Great Qing Emperor Xuantong would keep his title and his palace, but the empire was gone.
After a quick visit to the Hall of Supreme Harmony I went in search of somewhere sunny to sit as the temperature began to drop in the late afternoon. Then I saw the most disgusting example of just how bad things are at the Imperial Palace. A shop has opened called "Fly Over the Forbidden City". Yes, you too can dress up as the Emperor or Empress and be filmed pretending to fly. This is then superimposed over aerial footage of the Imperial Palace, the Summer Palace and the Great Wall. The Emperor flying over his palace; it was all too depressing for words. A girl in the shop saw me staring incredulously at this abomination and smiled and called me in. With a great effort I smiled sadly in return, and then beat a hasty retreat. I found a nice spot in the sun, and sat down for a rest. It started off nice and quiet, but far too soon my peace was disturbed. A pack of photographers came rushing past, following a woman wearing the most ridiculously tight pair of leather trousers I have ever seen. Maybe she was some sort of minor celebrity, but to me she just looked like a slut.
So this is what this proud old palace has been reduced to: a theme park; a backdrop against which masses of newly prosperous Chinese, ignorant of their own history, can have their photo taken doing star jumps. A palace now the stomping ground for trampy D grade minor-celebrities trying to drum up some publicity. Over 2000 years of imperial dynastic history reduced to a tacky DVD of an emperor flying over their palace. Bad taste wins the day. This is what millions of people died for. But how can the Chinese Communist Party maintain its dictatorial control when it has so obviously sold out to consumer greed? What socialist ideology is left? Precious little as far as I can see. However, the people seem content with the situation, so it looks like the men in power, hiding behind the fiction of the CCP, will hold onto power for the foreseeable future. Well, at least until the Mandate of Heaven is bestowed upon a suitable new Emperor and the dynastic cycle is reestablished.
Feeling disillusioned, I gave up on my plan to stay until dusk, and left the palace. It was with a feeling of melancholy that I looked back towards the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Will I ever come back to Beijing again? Maybe one day, after all I still want to do the train trip from Beijing to Urumqi.
