On yer bike, China

Emissions: A terrible thing happened in China a few weeks ago.

Emissions: A terrible thing happened in China a few weeks ago.

One any right-thinking (or left-thinking for that matter) person would take a very poor view of altogether.

The scene: the city of Chizhou, in Anhui province. Four passengers in a car jumped out and started battering the head off a pedestrian, an unfortunate student who had the temerity to remonstrate with the driver of said car for running him over at a crossing. Some taxi-drivers intervened, sparking a mini-riot.

Police arrived, carting the four off to the clink. You would have thought that'd be the end of it. But no.

READ MORE

A massive crowd surrounded the police station, demanding the release of our quartet. Not to rescue them, mind. They were after their blood.

Apparently, it's common for crowds to gather at the scene of traffic accidents in China. Not just for the thrill of possibly seeing body parts that aren't their own splattered about the highway, but often to dispense summary justice. Which, in this case, evidently involved making sure there actually were body parts strewn about the road.

The protest quickly escalated, ending in a mass brawl involving thousands of people. Six cops were badly injured, scores of cars smashed up and a supermarket looted. (Why is it that looters always target supermarkets? Do they see it as their golden opportunity to grab that luscious packet of pork chops they've always lusted after but could never afford? I dunno . . .) The station was smashed up, but the four, who must have been utterly petrified, remained within, largely thanks to the arrival of 700 riot police.

I blame money. And the newfound possession of said evil. This wouldn't have happened ten years ago when the Chinese were all on their bikes.

I remember seeing TV footage of Red China when I was a mere scut of a boy; remember being struck by the legions of uniformed cyclists thronging the streets. "Where are all the cars?" I'd ask. "There aren't any," my Dad would answer sagely. "It's like Mayo. The only people who have cars are the politicians."

But Red China isn't really red anymore, is it? The Chinese have gleefully allowed themselves be painted with the blue brush of rampant capitalism. It would be safe to say they have taken to the acquisition of raw cash with the all gusto of Fianna Fáil fundraisers at the Galway Races. It's now Violet China, a land of Capitalommunism. Or Communapitalism. Take your pick.

And, as we've seen here, the first thing people who've never had a bucket to wash in do when they find themselves flush with cash is splash out on a car. This is evinced by the fact China now has more than 100 car-makers churning out everything from runabouts costing less than €3,000 to monster saloons rivalling any US-made behemoths.

So now they're everywhere, with over 100 million now trundling around. Beijing's traffic jams are legendary, as are the psychotics passing themselves off as motorists in Shanghai. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the death toll has risen exponentially. Over 100,000 people die each year on Chinese roads. Just a teensie, weensie bit more than the number who died from falling off their bikes a decade ago, one imagines.

Be careful what you wish for, eh? You might end up getting Violent Violet China.

If you think, by the way, that this is in any way a criticism of China's great culture, think again. I have nothing but respect for the Chinese. How could I not? When we were still settling medieval faction fights by walloping each other over the heads with bits of blackthorn, Chinese warlords were razing each other's citadels with gunpowder-fuelled rockets. And when we were still living in houses made of bits of turf and moss, they were putting the finishing touches to the Great Wall. Little-known fact: China and Ireland share the distinction of producing the only two human-produced objects visible from space. They have the aforementioned Mongol-deflector and we have . . . Bono's Ego. Boom boom . . .

Kilian Doyle

Kilian Doyle

Kilian Doyle is an Assistant News Editor at The Irish Times