The Expo Facial Explosion
By Chip Tsao | published May 06, 2010
It was meant to be a crowning moment for the Middle Kingdom and its new superpower status, but the Shanghai World Expo opening ceremony ended up an embarrassment. Tens of thousands of frustrated Shanghainese crushed the entrance to the Expo fighting for tickets in a stampede reminiscent of Stephen Spielberg’s “Empire of the Sun,” where howling refugees clamored up the gate of the British Quarter of Shanghai to escape Japanese bombers. The young hero in the movie, an English teenager who admires the military prowess of the Japanese pilots, stands up proudly on the hill and salutes at the sky.
For most in the western media, such as Mr. Spielberg, it is chaos and bedlam that form the primary image of the Chinese people. So we lost face again, in a big international event built with a colossal investment of some HK$400 billion, specifically designed to gain face for the Chinese people. It is the usual Chinese paradox.
Do we care about face? Yes we do. Many China-watchers are confused by this paradoxical cycle wherein over-the-top big face-gaining events staged by the state always end up as a face-losing farce. There is some rationality in this apparent contradiction. Every Chinese man or woman who rushed for a ticket was fighting for his face. If they could become the first people to see the Shanghai World Expo and marvel at the Chinese pavilions, they would have something to boast about with a sense of honor to their relatives and friends. Those who couldn’t make it as early would listen to the story with amazement. There are a total of 1.3 billion people in the country, where the overwhelming majority live a life of absolute humdrum banality. Not everyone can make it like Yao Ming, but anyone can certainly enjoy the brief moment of superiority he gets when being listened to with goggling eyes by a small crowd in the village—provided, of course, that one has earned the heroic privilege of being the first World Expo visitor on the first day. It’s a primitive impulse. Weren’t we all originally the first sperm out of a quarter of billion to have successfully penetrated the egg?
So when everyone fights for his face, it is the nation that loses face and nobody could care less. The sense of guilt is placed individually rather than shared collectively. The Chinese are the Japanese in reverse.
Even policemen were shoved by the angry mob. If you survived the opening day, you might come to understand all the “mass incidents” on the mainland better. There is always a different angle, like the expatriate teenage boy in the “Empire of the Sun”—the autobiographical role of the author, John Ballard—who arrogantly salutes the murderous Japanese bombers flying across the blue skies of Shanghai.
It was meant to be a crowning moment for the Middle Kingdom and its new superpower status, but the Shanghai World Expo opening ceremony ended up an embarrassment. Tens of thousands of frustrated Shanghainese crushed the entrance to the Expo fighting for tickets in a stampede reminiscent of Stephen Spielberg’s “Empire of the Sun,” where howling refugees clamored up the gate of the British Quarter of Shanghai to escape Japanese bombers. The young hero in the movie, an English teenager who admires the military prowess of the Japanese pilots, stands up proudly on the hill and salutes at the sky.
For most in the western media, such as Mr. Spielberg, it is chaos and bedlam that form the primary image of the Chinese people. So we lost face again, in a big international event built with a colossal investment of some HK$400 billion, specifically designed to gain face for the Chinese people. It is the usual Chinese paradox.
Do we care about face? Yes we do. Many China-watchers are confused by this paradoxical cycle wherein over-the-top big face-gaining events staged by the state always end up as a face-losing farce. There is some rationality in this apparent contradiction. Every Chinese man or woman who rushed for a ticket was fighting for his face. If they could become the first people to see the Shanghai World Expo and marvel at the Chinese pavilions, they would have something to boast about with a sense of honor to their relatives and friends. Those who couldn’t make it as early would listen to the story with amazement. There are a total of 1.3 billion people in the country, where the overwhelming majority live a life of absolute humdrum banality. Not everyone can make it like Yao Ming, but anyone can certainly enjoy the brief moment of superiority he gets when being listened to with goggling eyes by a small crowd in the village—provided, of course, that one has earned the heroic privilege of being the first World Expo visitor on the first day. It’s a primitive impulse. Weren’t we all originally the first sperm out of a quarter of billion to have successfully penetrated the egg?
So when everyone fights for his face, it is the nation that loses face and nobody could care less. The sense of guilt is placed individually rather than shared collectively. The Chinese are the Japanese in reverse.
Even policemen were shoved by the angry mob. If you survived the opening day, you might come to understand all the “mass incidents” on the mainland better. There is always a different angle, like the expatriate teenage boy in the “Empire of the Sun”—the autobiographical role of the author, John Ballard—who arrogantly salutes the murderous Japanese bombers flying across the blue skies of Shanghai.
Labels: Politically Incorrect, 陶傑
posted by Gemini Saga at 12:00 AM
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