Doing global business in a giant village
The rear of the Forbidden City is my favourite spot in Beijing. The road leading to it winds along quietly until the walls of the former palace roll into view. There is none of the tourist cattle market at the front, no arrogant portrait of the Great Helmsman, Mao Zedong . There is the gate, the canal, the weeping willows and the road. Cars move at a respectful pace through here. It is the gentler, humbler side of the imperial capital.
It might be a good place to find refuge this week during the Fortune Global Forum, as an unconscionable amount of huff and puff will be blowing through the city's media while the world's biggest corporate decision-makers gather to herald China's rise.
Their thunder has already been stolen to a certain extent by international publications, including the event's sponsor ('From Marx to Market', Fortune's lead story last week), and Newsweek, which proclaimed 'China's century'. That message will be reinforced by CNN's spectacularly simplistic Eye on China series, in which no stone has been left unturned to find the gap between China's rich and poor so that the rest of the 'omigosh-this-is-communism' coverage live from Beijing has a semblance of credibility.
I do not mean to rain on the parade, though. If the adulation of the world's business leaders helps to legitimise the many difficult decisions being pushed through by the Communist Party to steer the country's transition to a market economy, China will be the better for it.
These businesspeople are not the kind of role models I would want for my children, as most are obscenely paid and as impervious to criticism as those whose backs they will be slapping this week. But they should provide hope - to officials whose policies are gradually relinquishing state control over the economy, and to entrepreneurs trying to compete on a level playing field as a result.
I will wager that many westerners who are making their first visit to Beijing will have to work hard to conceal their disappointment. Anyone returning after an absence of more than a year will be amazed by the city's progress, but first-timers are likely to wonder what all the fuss is about.
Outside the Grand Hyatt, this is not yet a grand, modern metropolis, by any stretch. It has history in spades. It has a few stunning architectural gems. It has charm, if you look for it, and the bicycles on Changan Avenue are a treat. But Tokyo, New York or London, it is not - and will not be for at least a decade after the 2008 Olympics.
Personally, I have grown to love Beijing. It has so much more class than Shanghai, but at the same time, away from its main artery of Changan Avenue, it is more like a giant village.
Much has been written about the destruction of the hutong, but within the second ring road, they still make it impossible for those impossibly tiny taxis to get you where you need to be in under 5 minutes. That has ensured that the pace of life remains more sedate. Wander through them on a cool evening at this time of year and try to tell someone that Beijing is not a special place.
Still, the pressures of China's rush to modernity are clearly taking their toll on the locals. A friend in publishing frets that Beijing is losing its soul. She is only in her late 30s but even she is perturbed that President Hu Jintao is hosting a banquet this week at the Temple of Heaven, where previous emperors had a tradition of forsaking wine, food and concubines during their annual visits. She usually works 16 hours a day, and her daughter attends a weekly boarding school - aged six.
Right now, there is no time to worry about such things. The big shots are here. It is time to take notes.
Anthony Lawrance is the Post's special projects editor
