The Paradox of Pedestrian ID Checks

Entering the Capital Requires ID Checks： A Double Irony of Power and Legalism

By A Wandering Traveler, Tianya Buyi (漂泊的旅行者 天涯布衣)

【Editor’s Note: The stringent pedestrian identity check system can be traced back to the era of Shang Yang (商鞅). The system implemented by Shang Yang had ironic consequences in history. As one of the key proponents of reform during the Warring States period, Shang Yang advocated strict rule by law in the State of Qin to strengthen centralization. Among the many policies he enacted were rigorous identity checks and the system of collective responsibility (连坐制度). These measures once made Qin's governance more effective and bolstered the nation's strength. However, ironically, these laws eventually became the catalyst for his own tragic end. According to historical records, after Duke Xiao of Qin (秦孝公) passed away, Shang Yang lost his powerful protection. When he attempted to flee Qin, he found himself unable to use a false name due to the strict identity check system he had established, making it impossible for him to leave smoothly. With nowhere to turn, Shang Yang was forced to return to his fiefdom, where he was ultimately captured and executed by Qin's legal machinery. This event reflects the brutality of the law and serves as an ironic case of power transition in history, revealing the paradox of Shang Yang's reforms: he sought to consolidate power through law, yet perished because of it—a double irony of power and legalism.】

Friends from other places might not know that anyone entering the capital must undergo ID checks at the border between Beijing and Hebei.

All roads leading into Beijing have checkpoints, whether in desolate mountains, remote outskirts, or rugged and narrow country paths.

These checkpoints vary in size; the small ones are mostly in rural areas. Some consist of just a tiny hut with a wooden barrier; some have only one person on duty, and others have two or more, depending on the traffic density and the width of the road. When entering Beijing via national highways, you even have to open your trunk for inspection.

Last Saturday, my husband and I drove to Mount Ling (灵山) in Mentougou; he wanted to see the autumn scenery there.

When we reached halfway up the mountain, it began to drizzle; the higher we went, the thicker the fog became. Gradually, we were enveloped by clouds and mist, a vast expanse of whiteness where we couldn't see anything. My husband had no choice but to turn the car around.

At that point, the altitude was 1,500 meters. It was very cold and raining, and the mountain road was muddy. We couldn't see a single person or vehicle.

As we descended a short distance, I suddenly saw a barrier blocking the road ahead. We hadn't noticed that there was a checkpoint here when we went up.

Seeing us approach, a man braved the rain and came out of the hut, asking us to show our IDs. I rolled down the window and said with a smile, "It's not easy for you to be out here all alone in this desolate wilderness!"

I genuinely meant it.

However, every time I see ID checks in rural areas, I find it amusing.

Beijing's rural areas are just like any other in the country: concrete roads flanked by farmland and green crops. As you drive along, suddenly, a little hut pops up where IDs are checked, staffed by a few people who look like rural cadres, and there's a wooden barrier.

If you encounter female officers, they're even more meticulous; everyone's ID must be produced, and their serious demeanor makes me laugh so hard I can hardly stand.

Once, I said to them, "Isn't this also rural? What's the difference between here and rural Hebei?"

They replied, "But this is Beijing's countryside!"

Hmph! What's so special about Beijing's rural areas? Don't you still have to farm? Are you somehow superior to others?

I thought to myself. In other words, all roads leading into Beijing, even the narrowest paths, have checks.

Why is that?

October 26, 2024

Source: Spicy World (麻辣天地)