I first became interested (some would say ‘obsessed’) with China when I was attending high school in the late 1960s. What fascinated me were the flickering black-and-white images showing the utopia-driven turmoil of the Cultural Revolution that appeared periodically on the evening news (always accompanied by the same twanging mis-chords in an attempt to imitate stereotypical oriental music). The films were usually either official releases by the New China News Agency (as Xinhua was then known in the West), or they comprised footage smuggled out of China, usually through Hong Kong, which was the place where all serious ‘China Watchers’ (and pseudo China Watchers) were stationed at the time.
As my interest in China deepened during my university years, one of the pivotal books that shaped my thinking was Felix Greene’s “The Wall Has Two Sides”. In many ways an apologetic book for Mao’s red revolution, the book outlined in glowingly optimistic and idealistic terms the vast experiment with humanity that was Mao’s China. I found the book compelling and challenging.
In titling the book “The Wall Has Two Sides”, Felix Greene was trying to make the point that there were two sides to this (and perhaps any) argument – he was attempting to present an alternative view of China’s reality to counter the-then prevailing wisdom of the Western countries.
In saying that the Wall had two sides, however, Greene was acknowledging disagreement. Quite simply, “two sides” implies adversarial differences and disagreement.
I have just returned to Hong Kong after my summer break, and tomorrow morning I will sitting and working dutifully at my desk. During the past few weeks, my travels have taken me to both ends of the Great Wall of China. I visited the eastern end of the Wall at Hu Shan (Tiger Mountain), a few kilometres north of Dandong. At Hu Shan (shown in the photo to the right), an extremely steep (and very tiring) section of the wall goes right to the border of North Korea – having descended the Wall, I looked right into the eyes of some North Korean soldiers patrolling the thin wire security fence just a few metres away on the anabranch of the Yalu River that marks the national boundary. The small creek in the photo above is the DPRK-China border, and the dirt track on the far side is used by North Korean patrols.
Most people regard the western end of the Great Wall as being at Jiayuguan in Gansu province - see the photo to the left. There is certainly an impressive fort at Jiayuguan marking the western end of the Great Wall, and it was a great experience to explore it in Gansu’s dry summer heat. However, Jiayuguan is simply the western end of the Ming Dynasty Great Wall. My travels also took me to Yumenguan, about 100 kilometres north-west of Dunhuang (which itself is just over 300 kilometres west-north-west of Jiayuguan), where there is a long, unrestored section of the much older Han Dynasty Great Wall, built largely of straw matting and clay (see photo to the right, below).
I thought the Great Wall provided a nice metaphor for looking at and working through differences. The Wall is a great symbol of unity – it binds together the far extremes of China, embracing them – and maybe actually forming them – into a single entity. However, to see things in this way, it is necessary to focus on the ends of the walls, not its two sides.
In the West, it is the differences between the sides of arguments that are usually emphasised – indeed, the adversarial approach is the basis of Western law and litigation. Chinese tradition, on the other hand, emphasises harmony and the acceptance of paradox.
Whether in the East or West, however, people who seem to disagree actually often share common goals, and they may well share more agreements than disagreements. Often, disagreements arise because a deeply shared common sense of idealism leads to strongly held but subtle variations and opinions on ways and means of achieving those goals that are considered ‘best’. Perhaps if people focussed more on the ends (or goals) and less on the sides (the differences), we could harness the diverse perspectives that are offered and see them as strengths rather than irritations. In that way, tensions could be genuinely productive and creative.
As I said, my travels through China and Mongolia are now just a happy memory. My travels took me well off the tourist trails into places where there was some fantastic geography to see and some great (some would say, much-needed) exercise to be enjoyed. Among the physical tasks I undertook were trekking through the Altai Tavan Bogd area in the mountains of Western Mongolia (walking 40 kilometres in two days at one stage), climbing to the summit of July 1st Glacier near Jiayuguan in China (a steep, gruelling 10 kilometre trek that took me from 3,800 metres up to 4,300 metres, the highest altitude I have been in my life - see photo to the left), two ascents of steep sections of the Great Wall (Hu Shan near Dandong and Jiayuguan in Gansu province), a pre-dawn 300 metre high climb of the Great Sand Dunes of the Gobi Desert at Dunhuang to watch the sun rise over Crescent Moon Lake, some short treks through Terelj in Mongolia, exploring the strange and spectacular landforms of Yadan in the Gobi Desert, and several long-distance urban walks and bicycle rides.
I have been very fortunate to see and experience many parts of China since my first trip in 1982, and yet my recent travels filled in some important cultural gaps, including the Mogao Caves near Dunhuang, the perfectly preserved walled town of Pingyao near Taiyuan, and the bombed bridge crossing the Yalu River at Dandong. The “Museum of the War to Resist US Aggression and Aid Korea” in Dandong was a true revelation – having visited museums describing the Korean War in Pyongyang, Seoul, Canberra and now Dandong, one might reasonably think they were describing four different conflicts! Trying to find the common ground in the stories portrayed by these four museums would be an excellent task for any student of history or philosophy who is interested in discovering the nature of truth, including constructed truth.
I am feeling rejuvenated and reinvigorated after my stimulating travels. My coming challenge will be to maintain a regular exercise regime now that I am spending my days in the office once again. It’s time to put some new oil on the wheels of my old bicycle!