Shunted About in Shanghai

The Chinese officials approached, dressed like an army of Regis Philbins. In dark suits, shirts, and ties they moved with purpose, shooing us with words and waves like we were pigeons. There were about fifteen of us, gathered with an equal number of Chinese colleagues at the appointed spot last Thursday to cover President Bush's arrival for his first ever meeting with Chinese President, Jiang Zemin. Our escort, who had taken us through multiple security checks had either turned against us or disappeared. He was replaced by a new fellow who yelled at our former escort and then at us. A daisy chain of authority followed: a new man would arrive, yell at the previous shepherd, reposition us, and then be replaced by a another who believed whatever new location we'd been put in, was the wrong one.

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After a few turns, the apparatus collapsed on itself, with all the Regises yelling at each other. Our final destination was a narrow marble wrapped stairwell. After missing the actual arrival for which we had been pre-positioned, we were finally rushed in to see the leaders finish exchanging pre-meeting pleasantries. Kept cordoned and crushed by security, I watched the moment under the nagging leaves of a potted tree.

This is what it was like covering George Bush last week in Shanghai, as he visited the coast city for the Asia-Pacific Economic Conference. What was planned to have been a glorious coming out party for China in the guise of a trade summit, was now dominated by the issue of terror, and the President's hosts were not going to let him get a paper cut on their watch — which is why we were getting so much attention. For Bush, the pre-war purpose of the visit was a multi- country stature-building jaunt for a president who didn't have many stamps in his visa. Now, he was arriving as the head of a global anti- terror alliance, taking his show on the road for the first time since the attacks on America. On his previous foreign trips, nervous spectators wondered whether Bush would be able to pronounce the names of foreign leaders and get their titles right. Now, he's turning far harder tricks: making friends with China, building careful new bonds with Russia and preparing the world for the long next stage of the war on terrorism.

The call of international diplomacy

The four days in Shanghai were also supposed to reassure Americans half a world away that life was getting back to normal. It couldn't have started on a worse day. As the President's chopper took off from the White House last Wednesday, the war at home was breaking out all over. The number of people exposed to anthrax on Capitol Hill was mushrooming, and the leaders with whom he had breakfast that morning were thinking of a temporary lockdown on Capitol Hill. Bush called the Vice President to get an update on the victim count as he flew to his airplane. "Dick, Daschle says there are thirty people," said Bush, "but Ari has other information. Get with Ridge and get on this."

Soon after that call, Bush learned the number was higher. There would be renewed questions, thought aides, about whether Bush should be taking the trip. It's a balance they have wrestled with since the day of the attack: trying to look normal without looking out of touch and out of place. They'd discussed that issue earlier in the week, but no one was thinking of shutting down the China trip. It had been decided days ago that China and Russia were more important to a multi- year, multi-prong campaign than any heat taken from a few days away from Washington. European officials had flocked to the White House to be seen with Bush, boasted senior aides, but the APEC audience was tougher. Some of the 21 member countries like Malaysia and Indonesia had shown support for the U.S. soon after the tradgedy, but were now facing riots in their streets. Russia and China were powers that needed Bush's personal attention. Phone calls wouldn't do. Plus, a president cannot be seen talking about nasal swabs in the White House. "We cannot put him out at each new development," said a senior administration official. "And there were a lot of developments this week."

The first casualties

By Saturday morning there came a development that required an appearance by the President. The topic wasn't the swelling anthrax anxiety, but America's first casualties. Bush had heard the news long before the aides traveling with him. Up at a little after 4 a.m., he had been calling back to Washington. From Vice President Dick Cheney and others he learned that two servicemen had died in a helicopter crash in Pakistan and that the first major ground incursion into the heart of Taliban held territory was under way. He didn't gather his team staying with him but instead, at 5:30 went for a workout. Though a treadmill had been moved into his suite at the top of the Ritz Carlton, he chose instead to make his way down to the one in the healthclub. Little gets in the way of the fitness obsessed president's workouts which he and his aides credit with helping him stay measured through the crisis. To ward off jet lag from the trip, Bush had hopped on the tread mill aboard Air Force One on the way over and sprinted at a brisk 400 miles an hour while he flew over the Pacific Ocean. By the time Bush huddled with aides to discuss what he would say to reporters, he made it clear he didn't need tutoring. "Don't worry about it," he said according to one who was there. "I know what to say."

The President had looked forward to returning to one of the few international cities where he has a back-story. He took a train to Shanhai with his mother 26 years ago when his father was the U.S. representative to China. But as his custom limousine fitted with blue Chinese license plates zoomed over elevated highways illuminated in a lavender blacklight, he marveled at the transformation. Shanghai looks like it was created by 23rd century machines with blaring neon skyscrapers rising up in all directions bathed in bright lights and crowned by clotted spikes and crowns. They look more like space ships than buildings. Much of the growth has happened in the last ten years, a result of the techno-globalism party everyone seemed to still be celebrating. "Like bamboo shoots," beamed manager of the Peace Hotel restaurant who wore the nametag Sheriff Shaung, as he swept his hand over a long grove of buildings that had sprung up in the last ten years.

Following the script

But not everything in Shanghai was modernized. There was an old- world quaintness to the Communist style press conference arranged Thursday by the Chinese leader. Just before the two leaders walked to their positions Friday at the lecterns in front of the presidential retreat, the atmosphere had to be suitably arranged. Two of the dark suited ones worked a wash tub sized vacuum cleaner over the red carpet and the expansive water fall that had been showering over a tall rock formation was turned off. As Bush spoke, his translator scratched and tortured her steno book, making circles and slashes as if trying to get the pen to write. In flawless Chinese, she repeated his answers, flipping her notebook pages as if trying to free them. One answer took nearly quadruple the time for her to repeat as it had for Bush to say. The Chinese translator was not very animated. Particularly when Jiang was asked a question from a home town journalist. The translator stood motionless as Jiang responded because, of course, the question and answer had been pre-written. One American journalist was able to ask an unscripted question, but as reporters sat forward waiting for the next round of questions, the Chinese president ended his answer by declaring: "That's the end of the press conference."

Bush looked shocked. He shrugged his shoulders, smiled and then waved as if going on a voyage. "You thought we were bad," joked Presidential adviser Karen Hughes of the One China Question Policy. In a private lunch of Shark's fin, fried lobster and Dim Sum at tables with 1,000 roses each, Jiang was not shy about expressing his contempt for the press. It was an area of common ground with his guest. "I like the way China did it when it comes to press conferences," Bush joked later.

By the time Bush boarded Air Force One to return to Washington Sunday night he had accomplished quite a good deal. The member nations of APEC had made a public declaration condemning terrorism, which, while stopping well short of endorsement for the American action, nevertheless allowed the Bush administration to claim support for its campaign. Russian President Vladimir Putin had shown even further warming to the U.S. position of dismantling the 1972 Antiballistic Missile Treaty. And, Bush had gotten through the traditional APEC class photo — where each leader is condemned to wear a gaudy shirt of his host country-without looking goofy. His work done, Bush left 12 hours earlier than scheduled; the famous homebody was anxious to get back to his own bed. "I have to run," said National Security Adviser Condi Rice speaking with reporters after the Putin meeting, "because you know when the President is ready to go, the President is ready to go." With Bush gone, that meant the end of the security sweeps. Loaded down with thin blue plastic bags of custom made clothing, antique paintings and embroidered pillows they had picked up in moments they weren't tracking the president, reporters were spared the two hour security search that had been scheduled before departure. We boarded our plane without even a sideways glance from security officials. As we did, news reached us from Washington that another case of the dangerous inhalation anthrax had been found.