China is full of antics that are widely perceived to be uncivilized. I recall a foreign friend of mine telling me an incident he saw. Diapers are not in common use here, and children typically run around in crotchless pants. He was at a bank when a mother carrying child had a small accident. The mother hoisted the child in the air to make him hold his bladder but instead allowed the boy extra range when his self-control faltered. My friend shook his head and said in Chinese, “bu wenming,” uncivilized.

That episode, to me, encapsulates both the challenges and the dangers with wenming. I would be hard pressed to find someone in China who would claim that the bank incident was civilized. Yet, in a land where diapers are expensive and traditionally not used, it is hard to see how this could be changed. The Chinese government tries—it published a list of 10 Dos and Don’ts for the Olympics, and has plastered these commandments just about everywhere.

Do:
Respect Olympic Property Rights
Respect the Olympic Logo
Obey Traffic Regulations
Respect Right-of-way in Lines
Beautify the City, Respect the Environment
Treasure Cultural Heritage Sites
Take Care of Olympic Venue facilities
Uphold Event Peace and Order
Be wenming Law-abiding Spectators
Raise Olympic Legal Awareness

Don’t:
Sell Pirated Goods
Abuse the Olympic Motto, Logo, or Song
Queue-jump, Run red-lights, or Run
Cut Off Other People or Ignore Traffic Directing
Spit or Block Stations with Street Vending
Deface Places with Advertisement Stickers
Make an Unreasonable Uproar
Litter
Gamble, Scalp Tickets, Disturb Public Peace
Break the Law or Affect Appearance of Things

Take a moment to wrap your head carefully around my next statement: the Chinese believe that the Western perception of the Chinese is that the Chinese are uncivilized. Regardless of how Westerners actually feel, the Chinese feel deeply ashamed about the behavior of other Chinese. They often tell me why Westerners think Chinese are bu wenming: Chinese people talk loudly in restaurants, they litter, they spit in the street, and they don’t understand the proper order of things (as in respecting right of way, first come first serve, etc.). Lining up is a foreign concept to most Chinese; an orderly queue usually has to be forced upon them by a chivvying attendant. They will stand in front of the door of an overcrowded bus, blocking people who want to get off, in order to get on. That’s part of the campaign to make the Chinese more wenming.

Wenming, to the Chinese, is abandoning their peasant origins. The word for dirt, tu, is often used to describe people as being uncouth, uncultured. It’s an insult, one that the city-bred use to refer to the nouveau riche and migrant workers alike. “They may have money, but they’re still so tu.” It’s about combating the image of China as a backwards nation of rustic farmers, of proving to the world that the China that was looked down upon in the 19th century is no more, that the racist “white man’s burden” view of a hundred years ago is obsolete.

To the Chinese, wenming is being able to hold their head up high on an international stage and not be embarrassed by their behavior. It’s about businessmen and tourists going overseas and trying to adhere to international norms of decency and etiquette. It’s about the drive to be more cosmopolitan and urbane. This is why the Chinese give their children $100 an hour tennis lessons, learn to play golf, and buy brand-name BMWs and Louis Vuitton bags: to have the trappings of culture. Taste doesn’t matter so much as long as you buy high-end brands and play the right sports. The Chinese pursue wenming the way the bourgeoisie of the 18th and 19th century pursued culture—relentlessly, with perhaps too much zeal and not enough discretion.

In the end, it’s about saving face. Not losing face by having foreigners be disdainful of Chinese customs and habits, like blowing snot in the middle of the street. Not losing face by having foreigners wrinkle their nose and complain that China is disorganized and chaotic. All of these frequently tossed about words—kaifang, xianjin, qiangda, and wenming—are part of China’s perception of what Western life is like. Regardless of the reality of the West, this enduring belief in a free, modern, powerful, and civilized culture is one that drives many of the social upheavals in contemporary Chinese society. And, like many myths, the truth is less important than the aspiration. The Myth of the West is an integral part of the dream of a Chinese Utopia—it is Gatsby’s green light, shrouded in fog, symbolizing the idolization of all that he desires.

The Myth of the West is a 4-part series by Yulin Zhuang.