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Aug. 15, 2004. 08:10 AM
MARTIN REGG COHN/TORONTO STAR
A photo of Karl Marx hangs on a wall in the Underground City in Beijing. Dug mostly by hand, the late chairman Mao Zedong ordered the underground bomb shelters built across the country in 1969.
The tunnel vision of Chairman Mao
Shelters built for Soviet attack
Beijing facility well-kept secret

MARTIN REGG COHN
ASIA BUREAU

BEIJING—A uniformed soldier leads the way down: 10 metres below ground it is dark, dank, disorienting.

Water drips from the ceilings of the vaulted tunnels, seeps from the damp walls and pools along the earthen floors. The trickle hasn't stopped for 35 years.

Locked behind thick gas-proof metal doors, this is where millions of Chinese were destined to wait out the war had the Soviet Union attacked a generation ago. This labyrinth below street level would keep the masses fed and watered, would be their salvation.

Today, the tunnels are slippery, eerie, empty.

The place smells of human sweat and reeks of rat droppings. The humidity is suffocating. The cool 18C air is bracing in summer, brutal in winter.

Dug mostly by hand on orders of the Great Helmsman, Mao Zedong, this Beijing shelter survives intact — a testament to his vision, a monument to his blindness. Motivated by Mao's musings, inspired by his cult of personality, the masses toiled until the tunnels took shape.

His words are still etched into the walls:

"Dig tunnels deep, store grain everywhere and never seek hegemony," proclaims one big character slogan. "Prepare for War, Prepare for Famine," warns another.

"People's War" screams one wall poster lit by bare bulbs. "The American Empire Will be Defeated!" promises another.

Emblazoned in bold red paint, the admonitions have endured the ravages of time — if not quite the shifting sands of geopolitics and the vagaries of economics. Fearing nuclear war with the Soviets, the founder of Communist China exhorted the masses in 1969 to build underground bomb shelters across the motherland.

It took them 10 years. "The total length is greater than the Great Wall," my military guide, Wu Dong Mei, announces breathlessly. "But only a small percentage of the tunnel network is open to the public, less than 1 per cent. The rest remains under military control."

In fact, the Great Wall is estimated to be up to 7,000 kilometres long. Wu boasts that the underground tunnels, roughly 3 to 5 metres wide, total more than 12,000 kilometres in dozens of cities across China.

Clad in a camouflage uniform, Wu warns that no photographs are allowed of this military facility. But after much discussion with my translator about the achievements of the People's Liberation Army, she relents.

Like most shelters, this one features a battlefield hospital, school, granary, cinema, public baths and barber shop. An underground hotel also operated for a time, most recently sheltering migrant workers who flooded the capital in the 1980s.

A mural shows labourers in peak caps laden with picks and shovels, digging with their bare hands. A framed poster of Karl Marx decorates one desolate tunnel; others are graced with schematic identification charts showing Soviet-era bombers and American attack aircraft.

The sole public entrance lies hidden in a hutong, or low-rise neighbourhood that retains its traditional Chinese architecture. A nondescript storefront in the centrally located Damochang hutong announces the Underground City, which was designed to safeguard most of its residents.

Today, the entrance is guarded by a handful of bored soldiers no longer fearful of enemy attack but braced for foreign tourists. Most of the other hatches have been shuttered, or cordoned off by the 25-centimetre-thick steel doors.

The tunnels remain one of Beijing's best-kept secrets, a forgotten city that few local residents are aware of. Most visitors are Taiwanese, and on this day a clutch of tourists emerges, marvelling at the maze.

"This tunnel is a result of bad historical times, it's impossible to imagine building it now," says insurance salesperson Su Dan Chen, 35, on her first visit to the mainland.

"Ordinary people want peaceful and better lives, and just the chance to make more money," adds another Taiwanese tourist who, still nervous about visiting Beijing, gives only his surname, Wang.

In deference to the visitors, the atheistic authorities have improvised a Buddhist shrine beside the exit where tourists can give thanks for the peaceful times. The improbable juxtaposition of Buddha statues and Mao busts is a sign of cohabitation in these changing times.

While the tunnels withstood the Soviet threat, they are crumbling under the weight of an American capitalist invasion. Highrise office towers are sinking their foundations into the once impregnable tunnels, undermining the underground city that Mao built.

Happily, they were never needed. But if the Communist titans in Beijing and Moscow had gone to war — as they did briefly in a 1969 border skirmish that unnerved Mao — the panicked masses might have emerged from this subterranean sanctuary to see their beloved Beijing in ruins.

Today, as it turns out, their city is unrecognizable — recast as a modern capital in advance of the 2008 Olympics.

Amidst the demolitions, the best-preserved template of the capital's recent past can be found here, below ground, in the Beijing Air Raid Shelter. The maze of dark tunnels that wind beneath city intersections and along subway routes is a reminder of the city plan from 35 years ago.

Fading road signs point to branch tunnels radiating outward to the Beijing Railway Station, the Summer Palace, Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. In the landmark book, The Private Life Of Chairman Mao, his personal physician Zhisui Li wrote that "Beijing is still crisscrossed with these underground tunnels, and keepers of the underground maze boasted that the entire population of the city could be underground in three minutes."

Li wrote that the Chinese army's corps of engineers secretly built a huge underground complex "to house the military high command in time of war. It contains a highway large enough for four trucks abreast."

The network of tunnels connected the Great Hall of the People with a military hospital and headquarters. Despite the anachronistic appearance of the tunnels, and the conversions to other uses, such as restaurants and hotels, the authorities have publicly acknowledged that many bomb shelters remain in place and are in some cases being rebuilt in Beijing.

In the wake of 9/11, the Chinese government has deemed it premature to consign the tunnels to the dustbin of history.

Additional articles by Martin Regg Cohn


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