Burn

1A TALE OF TWO CHINAS

It's a balmy summer evening in the early 1970s, and a group of families from my town are seated in folding bamboo chairs or sprawled on blankets in an outdoor stadium. We're all watching a state‐sponsored movie on a grainy, black‐and‐white film projector. Midway through China's Cultural Revolution, our country is sealed off from the outside world. No headline news stories, no discussion of “current events,” and no popular culture from other countries filter into our consciousness. Visits from foreign dignitaries are rare. This outdoor movie, featuring what many would now label “propaganda,” is our major form of popular entertainment. And here, on this massive screen, the outside world has made a brief and tantalizing appearance. The movie flashes scenes from the king of Cambodia, Norodom Sihanouk, and his princess consort, Queen Monique, paying a state visit to China.

A young child, probably only five or six years old, I stare up at the screen, transfixed by the film's charisma, glamour, and pageantry. The Cambodian king smiles amiably and extends his hands in the air, greeting throngs of Chinese citizens packed along either side of a grand boulevard in Beijing. He stands up in the backseat of a convertible with Chinese statesman Deng Xiaoping on his left and Queen Monique on his right, the latter wearing an elegant black dress with her hair loosely fastened. In the background, rectangular flags wave behind rows of youth in marching bands, heralding the ...