The Chinese character for “palace” hints at the historical irresponsiveness of the state. Its lines trace inner courtyards sequestered behind perimeter walls, and although it was developed several thousand years ago, it still describes the aspect of central power. Although China’s rulers long ago vacated the Forbidden City in central Beijing (now a museum), the place they currently occupy is another forbidden compound just a few doors down the Avenue of Eternal Peace from the old palace. Like its predecessor, the compound presents vermilion walls to an unwelcome world and guards with machineguns stand at each entrance.
Every March, during the meeting of the National People’s Congress (the legislature), this architectural aloofness takes human form. “People’s delegates” in black Audis move anonymously behind darkened windows through the traffic, escorted by police cars. Sometimes it seems just as well that ordinary people cannot see what their leaders get up to in their privacy. For years now it has been customary for delegates to use the privilege of their police escorts to ferry Peking duck takeaways from Quan Ju De, a famous restaurant, back to their hotels.
