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A May day on the Tiananmen Square in Beijing.
We're starting our brief journey to China. The filming equipment has been brought here.
The song you've just heard is called We Love Tiananmen Square.
It's sung by the Chinese students at every school.
For the Chinese, this giant space filled with silence is the center of the world,
the Gate of Heavenly Peace and the heart of Beijing.
And Beijing is the political and revolutionary center of China.
And China is Chung Kuo, the Middle Kingdom, an ancient cradle of the world civilization.
This is a place of parades, speeches, public demonstrations.
The People's Republic has been proclaimed from here as well.
And it was from here that the countless Red Guards
started their march for the Cultural Revolution.
But we've chosen to come on an ordinary day. There are many Chinese taking photographs.
It is them, the Chinese, who are the protagonists of our motion picture.
We're not pretending to understand China.
All we hope for is to present a large collection of faces, gestures, customs.
Arriving from Europe, we thought of exploring mountains and deserts.
But the fact is, most of China remains inaccessible and forbidden.
Even though, in a game of political ping-pong, the Chinese have opened a few doors,
with an unflinching persistence, our guides
keep us from taking a step away from the prescribed itineraries.
The founding fathers of Marxism oversee the Square.
Marx...
and Engels.
Tiananmen occupies a huge territory of 400,000 square meters.
Shady alleyways and winds from all direction join here, at the heart of the city.
Despite of all its imperial bearing, the Square did not exist at the time of the Great Dynasties.
It was born later out of the political need for a place of public reunions and demonstrations.
Here we can see Lenin... and Stalin, of course.
Along a major street, we are starting to move away from the Square.
Suddenly, the car driver tells us we cannot film here.
Using gestures, we're trying to ask why: the interpreters are not around at the moment.
Oops... we've filmed this, as you can see.
Later, we learned what was the reason for this complication.
This is an entrance to the park that hosts the residence of China's leader Mao Zedong.
The city schedule is strict: everybody's up very early.
Beijing and the Chinese are very laborious.
The Cultural Revolution has revised the organization of manufacture,
and has attached the primal importance to political loyalty, rather than competence.
Lately, efficiency has resurfaced as a criterion for judgement,
but without compromising the human aspect of labor.
The inhabitants of Beijing seem poor, but not miserable: without luxury and without hunger.
What surprised us most is that the living standards here, so distant from ours,
apparently do not bother people all that much.
In the morning light, under the Tatar Wall, we notice these people, who do not look like ordinary workers.
This is a kind of physical exercise, but also a dance and a ceremony.
It disciplines the body and strengthens the spirit.
They move very rhythmically, as if following music that no one else can hear.
This tradition is so old that the new leaders are willing to discontinue it,
as a rudiment of the past, as a superstition.
A school clay usually starts like this: running and outdoor exercises.
One day, we're taken to a gynecology hospital in Beijing,
a quiet and neat facility managed by very young doctors.
The patient is a worker of an electric valve factory, 35 years old and expecting her first child.
She needs a Caesarian section, and is anesthetized by means of acupuncture.
It's a poor and simple practice. There is no need for expensive and complicated equipment.
A very direct human contact is established between the doctors and the patient.
Acupuncture is accessible to everybody. It can also be used in remote areas,
and by doctors without professional education that form the backbone of Chinese rural medicine.
Today, despite of the skepticism of the Western scholars,
3/4 of the surgery operations performed in China employ for the purposes of anesthesia
these extremely thin needles,
which, passing through the nerves, reduce susceptibility to pain.
Thus, the medical practice in China
shows that it's possible to overcome grave obstacles with simple means and using ancient teachings.
This kindergarten serves the 6400 workers of the 3rd cotton factory on the outskirts of Beijing.
Each big factory maintains a school, where the workers can send their children.
Starting from childhood, they are prepared for the future life in a collectivist society.
Their grace makes us forget that almost all songs they're singing have political connotations.
The most famous one goes like this:
"Navigation depends on the helmsman, Revolution depends on Chairman Mao."
A house at the same factory.
A husband and wife discuss the vegetables they've bought at the produce market.
Both work here, at the cotton factory.
Just like the others around it, this house is modest and simple.
According to the law, the rent cannot exceed 5% of the salary.
The woman is saying: "We still do not have a grandson.
To build socialism, it is better if the families are not too large."
The factories are like small autonomous villages, where the workers live and tend to their duties.
The salaries are small, and the difference between the smallest and the greatest isn't large.
The number of distinct levels of payment is also decreasing.
The workload doesn't look stressful. Perhaps this is because the workforce is abundant.
The administration of the factory is appointed according to the "three in one" principle.
The three are the technical personnel, the workers and the soldiers.
This is a heritage of the Cultural Revolution, but the organization of labor keeps changing.
The Chinese engage into discussions with enthusiasm,
even though they tend to become repetitive and monotonous.
At the end of the workday, the workers make a circle in the courtyard and talk.
Today they are discussing an art exhibition,
a relatively new phenomenon, a result of cultural liberalization.
The moderator praises the artists, because, following the teachings of Mao,
they put art to the service of workers, peasants and soldiers.
We must spin and weave for the revolution, say the others.
There are no real debates. They just put forward suggestions for various amendments.
We must improve the quality. It is a matter of primary importance.
We must manufacture good cotton and contribute to the World Revolution.
We arrive at the Great Wall on a windy day.
The Chinese call it a wall of 10,000 Ii. It's total length is 5,000 kilometers.
2500 years ago, it was constructed by slaves to protect the Empire against the barbarians.
In his poem "A Worker reads History", Brecht asks:
"Who built the seven gates of Thebes?
The books are filled with names of kings.
Was it the kings who hauled the craggy blocks of stone?"
It's claimed that the Great Wall is the only human-built monument to be seen from the Moon.
But the astronauts didn't say anything about it.
It's a fortification, a barrier against the Mongols.
The turrets are spaced in such a way that the sentinels can hear each other's voices.
If there is a single monument to represent the inutility of military arts, it's here.
Someone has also called it the world's longest cemetery,
because the live bodies of rebellious slaves were used to cement the blocks of stone.
But the Wall has blocked the steppe winds, and thus contributed to agriculture.
And sending the soldiers' families into remote areas assisted the propagation of Chinese culture.
A military monument has thus unintendedly served to promote civilization.
Strange stone animals oversee this verdant street on the outskirts of Beijing.
This is a sacred road, the Road of the Spirits,
along which the deceased Emperors were taken to the place of entombment.
Each shape is repeated twice. The female is seated, the male is standing.
There are lions, unicorns, camels, elephants, chimeras, horses.
Today, the significance of these sculptures is largely unknown.
The animals separate the good from the evil, inaugurate the peace of oblivion,
and prepare to serve the Emperor in the Kingdom of the Dead.
Of 16 Ming emperors, 13 are buried in this giant tomb.
Even though the Chinese do not favor the word "empire" anymore, they still come to pay homage.
In the past, no one could enter these gardens, and even the Emperor had to step out of the carriage.
A visit to the tomb is a festive occasion. There is nothing stern or solemn about it.
There isn't much of a point in going inside.
The interiors are nothing more
than giant underground chambers containing similar rectangular coffins.
One could better have a look at the museum.
There are many treasures there, but the one that impressed us most
is this specimen of political art.
This, explains the tour guide, is a representation of the workers' hardships during the Ming epoch.
Even despite of the floods and droughts, the landowner comes to the peasants to collect taxes.
A family that cannot pay is expelled from the village.
The peasants become beggars. They are starving to death on the road...
and are forced to sell their own children.
Thus was the life under feudal emperors.
And it instigated the masses to revolt.
In 1582, the whole country was in uproar.
This, concludes the guide, is exactly as Chairman Mao teaches us.
Abundant harvests are no longer made in Heaven,
nor are the peasants ever expelled from the fields.
Better still!.. For one month in a year, all the students, arranged like this, in a square,
go to work in the agricultural communes.
We've come to visit an agricultural commune.
40 square kilometers, 3000 hectares of fields, 29000 inhabitants.
We're told that before the commune was built, this land was suffering from droughts and floods.
Today, there are kilometers of channels, where animals and fish can be raised.
There is a hospital, 6 clinics, 36 health centers.
8000 students attend 5 middle and 19 primary schools.
Of course, we've come across less prosperous villages along our itinerary.
It would be naive to think that we've found ourselves in a rural paradise.
Peasants' life is hard here, as it is everywhere.
This market in a central street of the capital
is like a country fair transposed to the city, where the animals are sold still alive.
We hide our cameras behind the heaps of fruits and tea leaves.
The prices are low. The abundance is accessible to all.
Apart from gentle manners and subtle intelligence,
food appreciation is another common trait among Chinese.
The table is rich is fanciful.
Each province is proud of its diverse specialities.
But, at least for an outsider, the important thing is
that the giant expanse of the agricultural grounds helps all Chinese
to overcome the Asian tragedy of malnutrition.
Even though not everywhere you can find as much abundance as here.
"There is a Great Palace in the City" wrote Marco Polo.
One Sunday, we leave to rediscover the walls, roofs, staircases and gardens of the Forbidden City
described in II Milione.
A few decades ago,
no Europeans were allowed to enter here, and only very few Chinese.
Closed during the Cultural Revolution, the Emperor's City has recently reopened.
And we've come here to watch the Chinese visitors,
rather than to explore the legacy of the imperial times.
The names of the halls and pavilions celebrate the enormous divine prominence
that the emperors associated with their own presence.
Supreme Harmony, Celestial Purity, Terrestrial Serenity, Nourishment of the Spirit.
The actual life behind these walls was a rather different story.
These were cruel and greedy courts
dominated by extravagant and hardly human customs.
The halls and palaces formed an itinerary leading toward the inaccessible power.
The visitors and court officials kept pacing from one hall to another,
waiting to be summoned to the Emperor's chamber,
often passing away or abandoning their original intention
before being able to reach the destination.
The modern Chinese have a peaceful relationship with their past.
They see its grandeur as a motivation to look into the present,
and visit without solemn trepidation these no longer forbidden grounds.
Beijing is still an old city with small houses
narrow streets and closed courtyards.
This old woman has tiny feet. Her steps are unsteady.
Since childhood, her feet were tightly bound and not allowed to grow.
One emperor had a concubine with shapely buttocks and tiny feet,
and that's how this cruel custom has originated.
The officials at the court decided that the prominent shape of the buttocks, a symbol of beauty,
depends on the size of the feet.
Hence they invented the custom.
A woman with feet like this must have been young in the days of the last dynasty.
This is an antique trading street called Liu Li Chang.
It is brimming with shops selling all sorts of curiosities. They are all managed by the state.
And all the goods are sold at fixed prices.
The streets are narrow. And there is always a Public Security Guard
who would maintain the order and prevent strangers from entering.
The roofs protrude beyond the walls.
There are no windows outside.
The life is confined to the courtyards.
They are a kind of communal area used for both work and recreation.
A kind of private order is maintained inside by consent of all inhabitants.
The houses are simple and poor.
Getting inside is hard.
You have to overcome the diffidence and shyness.
But once you're in you'll discover the human warmth as well.
There is also a new growing Beijing.
Even though the government does not favor urban expansion,
the natural growth cannot be stopped.
New districts are built in a place formerly crossed by the wall
that was delimiting the ancient Mongol City.
The trade and commerce in Beijing are mostly concentrated around two streets.
This one is called Wang Fu Jing.
To record its daily activities, we have to hide the cameras.
A stern capital of the Revolution, Beijing does not exhibit much color.
The garments are simple and frugal.
Here, you can witness the virtues of the long-forgotten times:
decency, modesty, the spirit of self-restraint.
The other street is called Feng Sheng.
Here, it's like this every day, anytime.
A wall of pedestrians, which is nearly impossible to traverse with a camera in your hands.
Beijing has hundreds of temples and pagodas.
But, for us, the most beautiful and mysterious is this one. Tian Tan, the Temple of Heaven.
Here, the Emperors were tending to the Gods
in hope for ample rain and abundant harvest.
Today, when the elephant driven carriages, processions of aristocrats
and brutal human sacrifices are nothing more than stories of distant past.
Tian Tan is a public park very much favored by the tourists.
It is made of whole pieces of wood without a single nail.
It's said that there is more than a million bicycles in Beijing.
This is Chang An theater which Chinese like to visit after work.
Tonight, it's a puppet show. The hostess announces a piece for orchestra.
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