The wall of a Beijing courtyard home in the process of being rebuilt (May 2017).
China’s landscape has long been marked by walls – from the ramparts that once surrounded every town and city, to the series of ancient fortifications along its northern borders known as “the Great Wall”. Such walled structures have served not just as a physical means of protection but also as symbols of status and power.
While this dual effect of walls is by no means unique to China, the idea of “the wall” appears to have a special significance in the Chinese context. Consider the character for “country”, 國 (guó), still used in the modern term for “China”, 中國 (Zhōngguó), which contains the element meaning a walled enclosure or boundary, 囗 (wéi).
Perhaps nowhere was the importance of walls more visible than in the last dynastic capital, Beijing (Peking). The city was a vast skeleton of stone bulwarks and towers built mostly during the Ming dynasty (1368-1644), containing smaller brick-lined arteries known as hutong. These criss-crossing alleyways were formed by the long, imposing perimeters of adjacent courtyards, broken only by the occasional small window or sealed gateway. The result were highly private, exclusive urban spaces reserved mostly for the elite of military and government.[1]
A German survey from 1900 shows the arterial alleys and perimeter wall of imperial Beijing's inner section (Library of Congress).
By the 20th Century, as imperial China’s social and political order collapsed, so too did many of its ancient walled structures. In Beijing, the towering, concentric walls around the ancient city were gradually dismantled during the Republican Era (1912-1949) before their near-total demolition during the 1950s and 60s, making way for new roads and subway lines. To the north, parts of the Great Wall were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976) before being heavily reconstructed in the 80s.
Within Beijing’s hundreds of hutong, many of the walled courtyard homes would remain, but many were also destroyed, haphazardly extended, or replaced by modern, mid-rise apartments and offices. Dwellings were converted into shops, restaurants, or bars, often having their walls broken through to make extra windows or doors. In short, the walls that once typified Beijing were fast disappearing.
That was until suddenly, a few years ago, when the Beijing government started to sweep through and rebuild the walls of these ancient streets. With minimal notice, teams of workmen were deployed to tear down unlawful structures and brick up doors or windows deemed too large. Many of these belonged to small and often unlicensed businesses that had been tolerated for decades. The campaign has been city-wide but focussed mainly on the ancient heart of the city in Beijing’s East and West districts.
A scene of disruption as workers rebuild the walls of an old Beijing alley (April 2017).
It's been the worst spate of demolition and disruption in the Chinese capital for over a decade. Back in the mid-2000s, with Beijing preparing to host its first Olympics, many of the city’s ancient alleyways and courtyard homes were demolished to make way for boulevards and shopping malls as well as luxury villas. Serious destruction was inflicted upon the city's communities and heritage as long-term residents were forcibly moved out of their homes.[2]
Now, during the late 2010s, the upheaval has generally not targeted whole swathes of ancient alleyways, rather individual buildings lining the streets. But like a decade ago, there has again been serious disruption to the community: brick piles blocking roads, sand exacerbating Beijing’s dust storms, local conveniences suddenly made unavailable. It’s a prime example of the quick-and-dirty, one-size-fits-all approach to urban management that the Chinese government favours.
Piles of bricks block a pavement, while workers rebuild a wall with brick-effect tiles and modern steel doors (March 2017).
For the vast majority of local Beijingers who rarely if ever visit the hutong areas, this disruption has been a non-issue. But for the community that live there and the owners and customers of many businesses, the campaign has been controversial. In many cases, teams of labourers have been accompanied by security personnel in an effort to deter protests by locals.
Also present are large red banners bearing slogans, signalling to onlookers that this is a government-sanctioned activity, and stating the official reasons for such reconstruction and demolition: “Restore the original appearance of the ancient capital”, “Crack down on illegal, unsafe structures”, and “Improve the living conditions for local residents”, to paraphrase some of the official propaganda messages.
Red propaganda banners call for rebuilding walls to "recover the historical appearance" ( June 2017) and "protect the ancient capital's appearance" (May 2019).
While some residents may have subsequently benefited from quieter, safer living environments, the claim of restoring the ancient capital’s appearance is less credible. Building work has largely been carried out with slapdash craft and poor quality materials, such as brick-effect tiles, cheap paint, and metal doors instead of the traditional wooden gateways. This has clearly not been an attempt at genuine architectural restoration.
So what has been the real reason for this large-scale wall-rebuilding exercise? And why should this matter to anyone outside the city, or even outside China? Many see it as part of a wider plan to cap the city’s population by forcing people from the capital, especially undocumented migrants. Indeed, the government has made no secret of its policy previously referred to as “demolishing and relocating” 拆迁 (chāiqiān) and now “vacating and withdrawing” 腾退 (téngtuì).
Another theory is that the central government is embarrassed by its relative lack of control over its own capital, especially in areas immediately surrounding the central administration. It has thus sought to increase enforcement of building standards and improve the rather shabby reputation that Beijing has nationwide. A further view sees the work as financially motivated, evicting residents of old, neglected buildings only to sell the land rights on for development of new, expensive luxury homes.
There may be some truth to all of these arguments. But is there another, broader logic to be found? I propose the following: The large-scale re-construction of physical brick walls in the Chinese capital is just one manifestation of an increasingly closed-off, strong-handed and backward-looking approach to government by China's political leadership.
Some observers may feel surprised by this analysis. Isn’t it the West with the likes of Trump and Brexit who have become more closed off and backward, trying to put up both physical and metaphorical walls? As mainstream Western political sentiment has increasingly moved against free trade and globalization, China has certainly sought to position itself as the champion of an open, unbounded global economy.
US President Trump has promoted a border wall policy (CNBC) while, by contrast, Chinese leader Xi has launched the 'Belt and Road' global trade initiative (CGTN).
Yet while China may aspire to lead the world towards a new, more forward-thinking future, the policies of its central government at home are increasingly pointing back to an older age. Thirty years on from the fall of the Berlin Wall and from Beijing’s own tumultuous events that year, China’s domestic policy is becoming less liberal, not more. In the space of just a few years, the country has witnessed a fierce political purge, new restrictions on NGO activities, and the further erosion of media freedoms.
Walls have been a central theme: Internet censorship has been tightened through the “Great Firewall”; a virtual wall of regulation and bureaucracy has more tightly restricted the flow of culture and capital in and out of China;[3] and in the western Xinjiang province, up to a million Muslim residents are reportedly being "re-educated" behind the physical walls of mass detention centres. All the while a very visible consolidation of power has taken place inside the walls of Zhongnanhai, under the more personalised and autocratic leadership style of Xi Jinping.
Ideologically, the present PRC leadership is increasingly looking to the past. Since 2012, the Party-State’s political propaganda has sought to promote not just the socialist ideals of their Maoist forebears, but also cultural values from dynastic times. Like the Forbidden City and other historic structures now being preserved, the walls of old Beijing have thus acquired a new propaganda value for government officials, as a physical manifestation of the traditional “Chinese-ness” that they are trying to cultivate. It reflects Xi’s call for his people to have “cultural confidence” as they seek to develop on their own, non-Western terms, and take a unique brand of Chinese soft power out into the world.
A newly-gentrified alley in central Beijing (April 2019), near the site of a New Year's propaganda visit by Xi Jinping (February 2019, Xinhua).
In the hutong of Beijing earlier this year, that propaganda value was very clearly demonstrated. An area south of Qianmen, just a stone’s throw from the central government headquarters, had long been a neglected and embarrassing eye-sore for the government. Then, after years of regeneration, these alleyways received a personal, well-publicised visit from Xi on the eve of the Chinese New Year.[4] It showed how the capital – with its old, walled spaces and the Chinese culture that those embody – is so symbolically important to the PRC leader, and by extension the Party-State that he heads.
More recently, in the north-east of the old city, much of the main avenue near the Lama Temple has been completely taken over by construction teams, tearing down modern storefronts and rapidly replacing them with traditional courtyard-style buildings. Meanwhile, the Tiananmen gate and its adjoining walls, as well as those at the entrance to the CCP’s Zhongnanhai headquarters, are also undergoing renovation. These most recent cases of wall restoration seem to be in preparation for the PRC’s 70th anniversary celebrations later this year, and the propaganda parades held to honour that occasion.
Rapid construction of traditional courtyard homes near the Lama Temple (May 2019).
The Imperial City wall at Tiananmen under scaffolding during renovation for the PRC's 70th anniversary celebrations (June 2019).
Since the events in Tiananmen and the central squares of other Chinese cities three decades ago, the spaces for political contestation in China appear to have spread deeper into the surrounding urban area. But unlike in 1989, it is now the government, not the people, that is taking the initiative to dominate those spaces. Today, the PRC’s mode of governance remains as politicized and state-oriented as ever. So much so that in China today, even a seemingly mundane wall can carry much more meaning than may first meet the eye.
Notes:
[1] For some historic photos of Beijing's walls and gates, see (with Chinese text): https://kknews.cc/history/39anoeg.html
[2] A comprehensive first-hand account of urban renewal during the pre-2008 period can be found in Michael Meyer’s The Last Days of Old Beijing.
[3] See Elizabeth Economy's The Third Revolution for a detailed exploration of this aspect.
[4] For an official media report of Xi's new year inspection tour, see: http://www.cppcc.gov.cn/zxww/2019/02/02/ARTI1549065977661103.shtml
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