Standing on the raised platform above the sidewalk on the east side of Zhongshan Road in Shanghai, the past and the future both come into view. Turn to face the west, and you catch a glimpse of the city that (in)famously referred to as "The Paris of the East":
Shanghai's justifiably famous "Bund" is an international symbol of the city. It's a representation of the glamour of old Shanghai, and also a reminder of a past that includes some fairly dark moments, including occupation by foreign forces, and domination of local society by gangs, opium and other unsavory things.
Turn to the east, just over the HuangPu River, and you're looking at Shanghai's high powered Pudong district, where at least 2 of the 10 tallest buildings in the world stand. Pudong looks like it might as well be the set of The Jetsons. Or Back To The Future II:
This is Shanghai, the high-powered, economic engine of China's rise. Shanghai the international business hub. Standing above all the rest is the massive, new, nearly complete Shanghai Tower, second only to the Burj Khalifa in Dubai on the list of the world's tallest buildings. It's telling that the subway stop for most of these unfathomably tall buildings is called "New Century Ave." It's the kind of vista that provokes this kind of reaction:
Perched atop the sidewalk at Zhongshan Lu, it's possible to fit both views of the city into one panoramic photograph. Brought together, the two sides of the river-- of Shanghai-- look something like this:
It's a strong contrast to say the least. But both sides of the river say a lot about Shanghai. Both are visual reminders of the city's self-confidence. My friend, and longtime Shanghai resident, Christopher puts it this way: "Shanghai is a city that's comfortable in its own skin." Likewise, both sides of the river evoke the glitz, glamour, and mystique of the city. If the Bund evokes a city of fantasy and exoticism for the westerners who built it, the Pudong offers a similar vision of a city that is chiq, fashionable, intriguing. The old colonial buildings point to the bygone era when Shanghai was "the Pearl of the Orient," but China's economic growth over the last 30 years have restored that sheen that comes with being a city that feels like it has its fingers on the pulse of the world. As it is now, Shanghai in 1920s was cutting edge, progressive. What is on display on both sides of the river, then, is something endemic to the character of the city: its energy and potential, and the cosmopolitan allure such dynamism creates.
So, what insight can we take from that panorama above? For my part, I often wonder whether Shanghai is the epitome of contemporary China, or whether it is truly China at all. I've heard more than one person from Shanghai insist that they are, first and foremost, Shanghainese and scoff at the notion that Shanghai shares much in common with the rest of this country. And, yes, the city is more globalized than much of the rest of the country, and (in some senses) seems more comfortable with being a paragon of international finance than even Beijing (which is a city that is, perhaps, engaged in a dialogue with its own sense of traditionalism in a much more intense way). But the story of Shanghai's rise is entwined with the rise of China on the whole. And Shanghai's faults are the same that haunt all of China: an influx of migrant labor, huge discrepancies in wealth, rapid transformation of urban space, speculation and corruption, an economic bubble that feels destined to burst, etc. And, of course, there are questions about just how sustainable this kind of growth really is. The Pudong, after all, is sinking.
What I think is most important to learn from Shanghai is that looking closely at the city enables observers to dispel and do away with the simple narratives about China stemming from foreign media coverage. We often hear a lot about how China's quest for modernization causes wholesale demolition of the past. And there's no dispute that many of China's large-scale infrastructure and development projects have come at the cost of cultural hertiage. But a look at the French Concession's narrow tree-lined streets that are reminiscent of Brooklyn or Paris, compels us to rethink that storyline somewhat.
Views like this challenge those of us who study and observe China to sharpen our gaze, and avoid discussing the country as if it could be explained in a few simple, self-evident truths. A close look at Shanghai is an invitation to treat not just the city, but the entire country with the kind of nuance and complexity that such a varied, vibrant landscape deserves.