Stanley Johnson - Kompromat

‘That’s the Great Wild Goose Pagoda,’ Zhang told him. ‘Built in the seventh century. If you have time, you can climb up to the top. Wonderful view.’

Even at that time of the morning, the road was beginning to fill up. The driver wove his way skilfully around the handcarts and bicycles, overtaking slower vehicles with a blast of the horn and a firm kick at the accelerator. Occasionally, he would swing out into the centre of the road to be confronted by an oncoming bus or truck.

An hour later, they stood together on the huge mound of earth which covered the tomb of China’s first emperor. It was like being on top of the Great Pyramid of Cheops, Barnard thought. The Qin emperor had been far more powerful than the Pharaohs of Egypt. Ramses and Akhenaton had ruled a country, but Qin Shi Huang had ruled a continent.

‘Has the tomb ever been excavated?’ Barnard asked.

‘No. And the Chinese government has no plans to do so at the present time. Qin Shi Huang’s grave has been undisturbed for over 2,000 years; it can wait a bit longer. Besides,’ Zhang added, smiling, ‘the place is meant to be booby-trapped with an elaborate system of crossbows lined up to fire automatically at any intruders! And don’t forget,’ he pointed to the east, ‘down there, a mile and a half away, a whole army stood guard.’

‘The Terracotta Army?’

‘Exactly. Come on, let’s walk there. We can pick up the car later.’

Zhang set off at a brisk pace down the steep slope of the pyramid, still talking as he leapt agilely from step to step.

There had obviously been advance warning of Zhang’s visit. A small welcoming party was waiting for them.

An elderly man came forward to shake Zhang warmly by the hand. ‘This is Professor Wong,’ Zhang explained to Barnard. ‘He has offered to show us round. I know this place well, I grew up in Xian. I went to university here before going into politics. I have followed the excavations over the years, but still it’s good to have an expert.’

For the next hour the professor gave them an expert guided tour.

‘Normally,’ he explained, ‘visitors don’t go down into the pits. They have to stay on the viewing platforms. But when we have a high-level honoured guest, we are allowed to make an exception.’

The professor pulled a card from his wallet and showed it to the guard at the entrance. The man nodded and unhooked the rope to let them pass.

‘The first pit was discovered in 1974,’ the professor explained, ‘by some farmers digging in the fields nearby. The second and third pits were discovered in the summer of 1976, about twenty-five metres to the north of the first pit. We believe there may be more pits to excavate, but we are taking our time. So far they have uncovered more than 1,000 life-sized warriors and horses, twenty wooden, war chariots and 10,000 bronze weapons. They estimate that when the excavation has finished there will be over 7,000 warriors, as well as some 600 clay horses and a massive quantity of real weaponry.

‘Look at the extraordinary detail of these figures,’ he continued. ‘The man in front, wearing the long robe, is an officer. See how the tips of his shoes turn up, his long cap, the fine and delicate features. What you are looking at is not a stylized representation but the real thing. Look at the general standing just behind him. Of course there are some standard features, the cap adorned with pheasant’s feathers, the long coat with its plate of armour, the hand on the sword. But each terracotta figure represents an actual soldier in Emperor Qin’s army. Each and every one of them is different. It’s almost as though these were real individuals. They were moulded in yellow clay and baked in a kiln over 2,000 years ago, but even now the realism, the subtlety of the carving is frightening. You look at these statues and you think they could almost march away.’

At the end of their tour, the professor led them into the VIP room where a table had been laid for breakfast.

The professor slipped away to take tea in a side-room with Li Xiao-Tong.

Barnard admired the choreography of the whole affair. This is where we get down to business, he thought, now that the softening-up process is over.

Zhang didn’t waste words. ‘Emperor Quin Shi Huang united China. The Qin Empire ruled for hundreds of years. The warring states came together. China became the greatest country on earth. In Europe you have had a great experiment. After two world wars which began there, the nations have come together in peace. But now you want to throw it away. I have read your speeches, Mr Barnard, I have watched you on television. But please tell me why? Why are you doing this?’

‘We’re not trying to destroy Europe,’ Barnard protested. ‘We’re just trying to take back control of our own destiny. For example, I consider myself to be an environmentalist. I care about nature and wildlife. I am as concerned about global warming as China is, and I congratulate you on the efforts you have made. But I think we can make our own laws, in this area as in others.’

When Barnard continued in that vein for several minutes more, Zhang looked increasingly disappointed.

‘I am sorry I have not been able to persuade you, Mr Barnard.’

‘Well, I’m sorry you felt you had to try.’

Zhang shook his head. ‘China wants to work with a United Europe, not twenty-eight different nations which is what we will have if Europe falls apart. Britain may be the first domino to fall, but it will not be the last. Do you know what we say in China in situations like these? “Be careful what you wish for”. That’s what we say.’

Zhang stood up. The meeting was clearly over. ‘Li Xiao-Tong will accompany you back to your hotel, Mr Barnard. My driver is taking me straight to the airport.’

‘I’ll be heading there myself later today, after I’ve made my speech.’

‘Good luck with that! Thank you for coming.’ Zhang was suddenly affable.

Driving back to Xian, Barnard wondered what China’s next step would be. The passion with which Zhang had spoken about a United Europe had taken him by surprise. He sounded a bit like Ted Heath, he thought. Poor old Ted. He had a vision but he could never persuade his party to follow him. Not for the long haul, anyway.

As they got out of the car, Li Xiao-Tong came round to hold the door.

‘Minister Zhang has asked me to give you this memento to take back to Britain. Please play it on your video recorder when you get home as a souvenir of your visit to Emperor Qin’s Tomb and the Terracotta Army. It tells the story from the first excavations to the present day. I am sure your wife will like it too.’

Barnard was genuinely touched. He had given his hosts a hard time. It was clear to him now that they had planned the one-on-one encounter with Minister Zhang down to the last detail. What on earth did they think? That he could change his mind at the drop of a hat?

Still, it was nice of them to give him a video of the Terracotta army. Melissa would be pleased. He’d taken some photos that morning but it would be good to have a proper video.

The plane from Xian landed as dawn was breaking. As a last gesture of goodwill to a departing minister, the government had laid on a car. Barnard scanned the papers as they sped west along the M4. He frowned. The Observer ’s ‘Poll of Polls’ had Leave at ten points behind.

Harriet Marshall, director of the Leave campaign, was already waiting when Barnard’s car rolled into the drive of Coleman Court: the splendid Georgian house which Barnard had bought on first being elected for the South Wiltshire constituency.

‘ Ni hao! ’ Harriet said. ‘The wanderer returns!’

‘Hello to you, too!’ Barnard smiled at the young woman who held the door open for him and then helped him with his bag. He congratulated himself, not for the first time, on the fact that the Leave campaign had managed to tempt Harriet to join them. The financial inducement had not been impressive – Harriet Marshall could have earned a much higher salary in the City.