Amid all the goosestepping, chutzpah, military hardware, fireworks, lies, forgetfulness, choreography, banners, speeches, massive portraits, slogans and uniformed babes with automatic weapons (Comrade Santa’s little helpers, judging from the laughable threads) in Thursday’s telecast of the People’s Republic of China’s 60th birthday, I was distracted by an e-mail from an enterprising foreign fellow in China.
This chap, who I shall call John (for that is his name), is the director of a company called enoVate (Web site: enovatechina.com/blog/), a “trends and insight firm that focuses on the China youth market” that works with “multinational and Asia based companies looking to better understand the growing China youth market.”
“Our founders and staff (both foreign and local) have been in China working with youth since the 1980s,” the e-mail read, which is clearly why “we really understand and are passionate about this group.”
His e-mail included some details on that week’s theme, namely “The State of the Chinese Youth, 60 Years Later.” There was no mention of the “state of the Chinese youth” 60 years ago, sadly. Still, one of the e-mail’s sample interviewees was a gangly young lady by the name of Yoyo, who had this to say:
Name: Yoyo
Age: 21
Are you proud of your country?
Yes.
Chinese aspect most proud of?
That a Chinese girl like myself can also be fashionable.
If you’re proud of China, what is the best way to show this?
Invite more foreigners to become Chinese citizens so they can see for themselves.
How can you best support your government’s policies?
I plan to shop more than before.
The enoVate people also provide commentaries on marketing campaigns. My favorite was “National Pride Endorsed by Pepsi,” in which an analyst breathlessly praises the company for aligning its youth-oriented product with nationalist sentiment — and possibly deceptive advertising:
“... no other overseas brand has dared/tried to cash in on the patriotic sentiment built around the [National Day] celebrations. In this way, Pepsi have not only capitalised on [a] lack of competition amongst foreign brands, they have pushed forth to make themselves indistinguishable from Chinese brands.
“Research from 2008 has shown that from a sample group of Chinese consumers from tier 1, 2 and 3 cities that 41% thought Pepsi was a Chinese brand. Aligning Pepsi with an event of such importance to Chinese youth [the PRC’s 60th anniversary], as shown through their web traffic, means that even if they aren’t fooled into thinking Pepsi is a Chinese brand, people may be willing to adopt it.”
The piece concludes thus:
“Foreign brands may fear courting the dreaded ‘angry youth’ and worry that marketing of this sort cuts too close to a politic [sic] stance, but it’s through this sort of risk that Pepsi will gain legitimacy that no amount of celebrity endorsement could ever do.”
Ah, Pepsi. The confused choice of a new generation of angry shoppers.
Just as Zhang Yimou’s (張藝謀) patriotic-artiste fireworks were about to start, I was distracted again by a second e-mail, though this one was less enamored of government policies than the good people at enoVate.
The sender was Chinese Human Rights Defenders, which detailed the standard round-up and mistreatment of activists and dissidents on the eve of the big day, though there was also information on unusually broad interference with the Internet (especially proxy servers) and a crackdown on that miserable group of people known as petitioners — humble folks from way out of town who fall for the myth that bringing a complaint from the boondocks direct to the emperor/party-state can deliver justice.
Come on, lighten up, China skeptics. Sixtieth anniversaries don’t happen very often. And can you imagine the chaos if a ragged petitioner threw himself in front of one of those goosestepping phalanxes? The lot of them would fall down like a heavily armed set of dominoes. All the more reason to keep these riff-raff in “black jails.”
I thought it was interesting that my foreign friend plying the youth masses had his finger on the pulse more than the human rights party-poopers. In a land devoid of ideological commitment and bona fide camaraderie, enoVate’s snapshot of the obliviousness of youth to the sinister shit that surrounds them — theft of property and land by corrupt officials at every level being the most incendiary — nailed it.
Anyway ... to the parade. It was striking to see President Hu Jintao (胡錦濤) standing like a wax dummy in his lone black vehicle as he inspected the troops. China’s man of the hour didn’t quite have the presence of Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平) or even Jiang Zemin (江澤民), let alone the Great Helmsman. Still, this professional Tibetan-killer was able to play the part to the tee — which is to say, the creepy little prick didn’t break a sweat and didn’t blow any of his big lines.
Listening to his bizarre voice, I was reminded of a quote describing Mao Zedong (毛澤東) in a piece by Jane Macartney in the Times of London from a 91-year-old retired journalist, Li Pu, who was among the assembled dignitaries when Mao proclaimed the People’s Republic all those decades ago:
“He was an evil man, a bastard, and it’s typical of bad people not to show their emotions. So it was impossible to tell what he was feeling.”
Hu can’t compete with that, even if he did his best to look emotionless.
As expected, the Taiwan float in the parade was lame, and also the campest of all, with phony Aborigines in full dress dancing like they’d been decapitated, a phallic Taipei 101, lots of fruit all over and a rainbow, all of which seemed to momentarily turn the parade into a Chinese attempt at Mardi Gras.
All that was missing was a gyrating Taiwanese Carmen Miranda in fishnet stockings shaking her cleavage at the old farts on the viewing platform and crooning tunes in Taiyu.
But the most disappointing omission was not, as you might expect from me, a series of family-friendly floats rationalizing the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution.
Instead, I mourned the lack of recognition for China’s burgeoning pseudo-middle class. You know what I mean: a big, flashy float praising the achievements of newly comfortable families with illegal second and third children who love their country, praise their government and adore the Chinese Communist Party for bringing them grossly disproportionate wealth in national terms that doesn’t shame them compared with Third Uncle Huang in New York and Great Aunt Wang in London.
The kind of families whose children have the time to spend trawling the Internet looking for anti-government voices and battling against them with troll language and serene arrogance.
I expect we’ll be hearing a lot more about the success, positive outlook and opiate philosophy of these folks on CCTV as the government employs ever more ruthless tactics against aggrieved peasants and displaced urbanites.
International press reports seemed far less impressed with the spectacle than the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics. The Associated Press called the caravan of floats “kitschy,” the BBC commented on the archaic flavor of the celebrations, while the New York Times, among others, made an effort to depict the woeful ignorance of urban youth when it comes to modern Chinese history and what China stands for.
In the end, what was the prevailing message in this retread of nationalist militancy wedded with nostalgia for conformity and Red Guard naivete? After 60 years, the Chinese government and its subjects can proudly say that the nation is still standing.
It’s stronger, richer, more powerful, more influential, more sophisticated, more confident, more cunning, more venal, more misanthropic and much more frightening than it was when it stood up six decades ago.
Like a bunch of North Koreans made good.
Got something to tell Johnny? Get it off your chest: Write to dearjohnny@taipeitimes.com, but put “Dear Johnny” in the subject line or he’ll mark your bouquets and brickbats as spam.
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