Seen from afar, China evokes a curious mix of schizoid, hype-induced emotions: on the one hand, there鈥檚 sneaking admiration of its undisputed economic rise, and its unparalleled success in pulling some 300 million of its citizens out of abject poverty in three dizzying decades. On the other, China鈥檚 rise triggers unbridled fears that its low-cost manufacturing prowess will steal jobs the world over (and poison the planet, while it鈥檚 at it). And for rent-a-cause bleeding-heart liberals, there鈥檚 enough about China to inspire moral outrage in the extreme, from its enforced 鈥榦ne-child policy鈥 to human rights abuses in Tibet to its support for authoritarian dictatorships everywhere to, well, the godless worship of money it鈥檚 unleashed in its dirty, unwashed masses...
In India, too, China-watching has in recent years become something of a national obsession. Much like a puny man feeling his biceps thrice a day to check if he鈥檚 become muscle-bound like Arnold Schwarzenegger in the pin-up poster pasted on his mirror, Indians have taken to comparing themselves with the Chinese on every little aspect of their economy and civil society. Even a discussion of Mumbai鈥檚 colonial-era plumbing problems is considered incomplete without a comparison with Shanghai鈥檚 civic amenities, so to speak.
Newspaper narratives abound about the ridiculous ease with which China can build entire cities in the time-frame that it takes a file to move on creaky, bribe-greased tracks from Point A to Point B in India鈥檚 sarkari labyrinths. Alternatively, alarmist wails go out every time a Chinese military posse makes 鈥渋ncursions鈥 across the shadow lines that divide our two countries.
