Why have many economists missed the fact of persistent malnutrition, hunger, and famine in the People's Republic of China? The fault is certainly not in their expertise (remarkably sophisticated in application, given the dubious nature of the data available) but in their interpretive comments and conclusions, which often seem gratuitous, deriving neither from estimates of per capita grain consumption nor from any visible basis in fact.

New York Times, December 31, 1978: Craig Claiborne, marveling over his recent gourmet experiences in the People's Republic of China, writes that he asked "an acquaintance long associated with so-called left-wing causes" "how to account for the excellence of Chinese cuisine in the present socialist atmosphere?" She replied: "In a proud socialist country such as China and Vietnam, food is as crucial and emotional a part of the culture as is their ancient art or their imperial palaces. To invite people to share their cuisine...and to serve it to them correctly, is to teach foreigners much about the Chinese soul."

Christianity is a sleeper in China. It has not expired since the massive antireligious campaign of the Cultural Revolution in 1966, any more than has the traditional body of Chinese beliefs, ranging from philosophical Buddhism to primitive superstition. The Chinese landscape still abounds with gods, ghosts, and heavenly omens. And the church lives cautiously, but intensely, underground. The evidence suggests that wherever Protestant or Catholic belief once took hold, the faith is practiced to some degree; secret prayer meetings take place and young people are converted. The fact that the Peking Kuang Ming Daily of September, 27, 1977, published an article proposing new "research" efforts directed toward the criticism and the eradication of all religions, including Christianity, is sign enough that the central propagandists still see themselves as battling a live adversary.

In the Soviet Union there are strict laws against prostitution. Nevertheless, if a man is interested in picking up a girl for sexual purposes, he knows where to go find one. Take Canton. Do men know where to find such a girl? I've had no personal experience, but 1 did learn something about this from others in 1971. It happened that I was sent on an errand by the large brigade. I had to get some wire cable, but there was none to be had in Canton, so my job was to procure it through the speculators' organizations.

On April 7, 1976, a New York Times editorial expressed an evidently startled reaction to recent rioting in Peking, for “China had seemed to be so orderly, so completely controlled in recent years….” The same day's mail brought to our address the February, 1976, issue of Letters from Asia, published in Hong Kong. The “letter” on China noted widespread strikes and disorders in 1974 and disruptive “factionalism” at all Party levels. The key line was: “…1975 was a highly agitated year in Chinese politics.”

Having been broken in the traces of contemporary sinology, we are now accustomed to such moments of schizophrenia. Indeed, in our preceding two articles we have ourselves begun to render, in seeming schizoid fashion, a darkly shaded image of China in opposition to the prevailing evenly sunlit one.

It's nothing new in Chinese history to impress the foreigner for the sake of the country's face,” said a young escaper last year in Hong Kong, who by no means intended to denigrate his country. “When people from other countries came to the ancient capital of Ch'ang An in the Tang Dynasty, it was so gorgeously decorated, those foreigners were astounded….If the rulers today desire not to let foreigners see anyone wearing patched clothes, that can easily be arranged. And if they want to show foreigners trees in Peking with silk hanging from the branches, that is also possible.”

Visitors from afar viewing today what B. Michael Frolic describes as “the peaceful blues and grays and whites of Chinese cities” would certainly smile at the thought of brocades waving in the breeze.

Beyond the bland facade- of China's great open cities and the green abundance of its showplace communes lies a vast country in obscuro —a China through the looking glass. In this, some say imaginary, country, people do not converse in People's Daily platitudes, but use a distractingly earthy language, enriched with sly puns and ancient proverbs; young men sing melancholy songs and brood over lovers and lost illusions; sons and daughters esteem their families above the Party; there are thieves, pickpockets, and prostitutes; vilage cadres keep “one eye open and one eye shut” to sideline business activities; women quarrel hysterically over their woks in communal kitchens; speculators slip in and out of towns buying and selling ration coupons; underground factories operate; farmers lavish care on their private plots while neglecting the collective lands; and massive numbers of the Chinese peasantry, immemorially patient and industrious, labor daily under hardship and deprivation for three meals of rice gruel and sweet potatoes a day.