Despite rank hypocrisy, and a singularly irate swan, China has risen above and beyond negativity to create the Olympic dream it desperately cravesBy Alan Campbell
IT is impossible for the Westerner newly arrived in Beijing to know what emotions lie behind the smiling faces. But if the Chinese are an oppressed people, they certainly know how to hide it. "They're killing us with kindness," a New Zealand radio reporter observed over the breakfast table. We both laughed; if this is our worst complaint when the Olympics end a fortnight today, the Games will have been the success the Chinese crave.
That much, at least, the populace of Beijing and the other host cities share with the Communist Party, which has been in power since 1949. Loss of face with the eyes of the world focused on China would be a national humiliation to match the many perceived in previous centuries. The country has invested £40 billion in this bloated festival of sport, and coming out of it with enhanced political and cultural kudos is as important as topping the medal table on August 24.
It can only have hurt the hosts that the publicity leading into the Games was so relentlessly negative. Tibet, human rights, pollution, the treatment of migrant workers and censorship are just some of the sticks which have been used to beat the Chinese. Amnesty International is the most high profile of many organisations which have used the Olympics to examine the record of the Communist Party; it came to the conclusion that little had improved in the build-up to the Games.
That may, or may not, be so, but Roger Federer, the Swiss tennis star, spoke here of his embarrassment at the manner in which the Olympic torch relay was waylaid on its procession through Europe. Surely the relevant question to ask about these landmark Games is this: are they more, or less, likely to ease the repression in Tibet and speed up domestic reform? Even the most cynical would struggle to take the negative view.
In any event, it strikes this observer that there is a rank hypocrisy in much of the railing at China. Lectures on human rights from George W Bush? The outgoing American president was at Friday night's wonderfully choreographed opening ceremony, having earlier told his hosts during the course of a speech in Bangkok: "The US believes the people of China deserve the fundamental liberty that is the natural right of all human beings." Except, of course, when this fundamental liberty is contrary to American interests, whether it be in Latin America, South America or the Middle East. Nor, as an eager partner in the invasion of Iraq which defied international law, can the British claim to occupy any high moral ground.
It will be interesting to see if those who have been so eager to protest about China will turn their venom on London, where the next Olympics are to be staged. But regardless of political implications, the 2012 Games will struggle to make a better early impression than these.
Human Rights Watch, which is based in New York, has stated: "As the 2008 Olympic Games open in Beijing, foreign journalists in China face a host of severe restrictions, ranging from harassment to a censored internet." I'm sorry, but that is simply a fabrication.
Far from being harassed, the media here are being pampered as my Kiwi colleague presciently pointed out. I can also access any relevant website, including the BBC and Amnesty International, without any difficulty whatsoever. It may not be what a sceptical world wants to hear, but it's true.
Similarly, passing through customs at Beijing's new international airport was a breeze. It was a particular breath of fresh air compared with my experience of several American airports where the hostility from staff is palpable and pity help you if they believe you're a Muslim. An army of citizen volunteers, mostly students, is on hand to ensure our wellbeing and guide us through the difficulties caused by an otherwise impenetrable language barrier.
There has been one menacing moment - but it was instigated by a jealous swan. Our residence is at the Beijing Conference Centre (or Center, to give it it's American translation). If you can envisage the SECC set in the campus of Stirling University, you'll get the drift of our scenic billet. On Friday morning, while out for a pre-breakfast walk, I was admiring two beautiful roe deer in a compound when the swan decided to get nasty. Very nasty. It got the gold medal for aggression, while I settled for the 20-metre sprint.
Mercifully, that was a rare public moment when there were no witnesses present. In Beijing it is impossible to find a quiet corner, although this may have something to do with China having a population of 1.3 billion. The buses which took us to and from Tiananmen Square on Thursday made the inside of sardine tins look airy and spacious, while the scene of the infamous 1989 student rebellion and killings was also teeming with people - most of whom were Chinese, and not visitors.
Perhaps that was because local factories have been shut down to combat the pollution. Cars have also been ordered off the roads on alternate days depending on their numberplates, although - rather naughtily I thought - a few even numbers had sneaked onto the highways on Thursday. Perhaps they belonged to Party officials.
And what of the pollution? The sun broke through on Tuesday afternoon, the day I arrived, but otherwise visibility has been poor. The early morning temperature is similar to a sauna which has just been turned on, accompanied by the visibility of a steam room. The days have been getting hotter and more humid, peaking in the early 90s, but the conditions are nowhere near as uncomfortable as they were in 1998, when the Commonwealth Games were held in Kuala Lumpur. Nor, despite the readings, is the air unpleasant to inhale - stand at the top of Renfield Street in Glasgow, where our office is situated, and it is markedly more toxic.
Beijing, too, is spotless because the people here just don't drop litter. It's an invigorating change from our filthy cities and couldn't-give-a-shit attitudes. Nor is there alcohol-fuelled violence on the streets at weekends. The principal enjoyment here is eating, and you're unlikely to see as many restaurants and other eateries in any city in the world.
Security is tight, but not oppressively so. You wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of the police and army here, but if you follow the sensible precautions in an age of senseless bombings you'll be nodded through the checks with courtesy and a smile.
Just as the fervent hope here is that the Olympics will speed up China's recent record of reform and progress - as seen in its dramatic economic growth - so it was in the early 1970s that sport rekindled relations between this country and the United States.
When the communists overthrew the nationalist Kuomintang government in 1949, America severed all relations with the new People's Republic of China. Almost 20 years later the then president, Richard Nixon, decided it was time to change strategy. "If there is anything I want to do before I die, it is to go to China," he remarked.
Easier said than done, though, with Taiwan a huge issue of contention, and it took a most unexpected event to make the breakthrough possible. The world table tennis championships were being played in Nagoya, Japan, in 1971 and for the first time since the freezing of relations both China and the USA were taking part.
Although there was intense diplomatic activity behind the scenes, it took a very human gesture to make the difference. American player, Glenn Cowan, missed the US bus one day and was waved on to the Chinese transportation. In those days of no contact between the countries, neither side knew how to handle the situation until one of the Chinese players, Zhuang Zedong, stepped forward from the back of the bus and presented Cowan with a silk-screen portrait. They were photographed together in an image that flashed round the world.
Cowan later responded by giving Zhuang a t-shirt with a peace emblem and the slogan "Let it Be". Nixon visited China the following year and diplomatic relations were restored.
Much water has flowed under the American and Chinese bridges since the days of ping-pong diplomacy, but here in Beijing, 36 years later, the sporting, ideological and cultural battle has now resumed.
