SHANGHAI: Mao Zedong announced the tune himself, in 1927, when he wrote: "A revolution is not a dinner party, or writing an essay or painting a picture or doing embroidery; it cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous, restrained and magnanimous. A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another."

For the next half-century, China was one of the most violent places on earth, and not just because of the vicious foreign invasion and civil war that swept the country, or the ceaseless purges of supposed traitors and class enemies. There was also the matter of language, which in China has been both an underrated means of violence and a vehicle for it.

Mao's state created a propaganda system built on a crude triage: a world of heroes who were unalterably and impossibly good, and an even larger one of villains who were irredeemably, cartoonishly bad. Over-the-top became the routine in official rhetoric. Enemies were called "monsters" and "cow ghosts," "snake spirits" and "running dogs." And in one campaign after another the public was called upon to "resolutely crush" or "relentlessly denounce" them.

This was a universe of variable geometry, where people were not to reason things out on their own, but to fall in line. Today's hero could be tomorrow's villain, with no clear evidence or explanation. The sole moral compass point was the immoral leader himself, Mao, who to this day remains a sacred cow whose likeness peers out from every bank note.

In recent years, it had seemed as if this movie had been retired, but last month the production was cued up once again. The bad guy this time has been the Dalai Lama, the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader, and the fact that outside China this villain is one of the world's most admired people has only caused the propagandists to ramp up the volume.

For the purpose of the cause he has been turned into a canine and called a "wolf in monk's robes," "a wolf with a human face and heart of a beast" and the "scum of Buddhism." In case anyone missed the message, the government has also called the struggle against the Dalai Lama "a life-and-death battle."

The Chinese public should by now recognize all the signs of an old-fashioned political campaign and, given the state's history of manipulation, immediately mark a long, skeptical pause.

It's not clear, though, if that's how it worked this time. The propaganda means of the Chinese state remain overwhelming, as is its inclination not just to shape opinion, but to corral it, playing on what the documentary filmmaker Tang Danhong called the "great Han chauvinism," referring to the dominant ethnic group, a chauvinism that has been evident throughout the Tibetan crisis.

After watching the first week of heavily propagandized television coverage here over dinner recently - reporting that focused almost exclusively on images of lawless Tibetan rioters smashing shops in Lhasa, along with the images of ethnic Han victims of the violence, typically recovering in the hospital - a senior Chinese newspaper editor eagerly questioned me about what was "really happening in Tibet."

The question was scarcely out of his mouth when he added: "When people see the kind of one-sided propaganda that's been in the media here, nobody trusts it anymore."

This might be reassuring, were it true, but the next few days provided many causes for doubt. A young Chinese acquaintance who is a journalist sounded a troubled note in an e-mail message to me: "I read some news reports recently and am confused why the Western media reports on Tibet are inconsistent with the facts? Like they only report on the Chinese police but not the thugs attack the innocent people and the police? And even worse, why are they reporting lot of false and prejudiced news?"

The irony here, of course, is that Western coverage, whatever its faults, generally detailed the street violence in Lhasa, despite being barred access to Tibet by a country that made a big to-do last year over having supposedly lifted restrictions on the movements of international journalists in China.

Unlike the heavily controlled domestic press, the Western media also reported on the largely peaceful sympathy protests that unfolded over a broad stretch of the Tibetan plateau. They generally sought to give at least two sides to the story and questioned Beijing's assertions about Tibetan protesters and about their spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama, in the textbook way an independent press should.

Beyond the headlines, though, this crisis tells us a lot about China, and although the government may still have the means to control opinion, the more strenuously it has pressed its case, the less the picture of the country concurs with the image that China so eagerly wishes to promote of itself to the world.

China has invested hugely in its hosting of the Olympic Games in August with the idea of introducing itself as an overwhelming success story: increasingly prosperous, harmonious and forward-looking. The first statement is certainly true, but one needn't be an enemy of China, as the propagandists would have it, to question the other two.

This may yet turn out to be China's century, but it seems clearer than ever there's a lot of work to do, reforming an awfully rickety system, rethinking policies built on bald fictions, such as the "autonomous regions" in China's west, and learning to deal with criticism without turning it into a matter of ethnic pride or betrayal.

The official slogan of the Games may be "one world, one dream," but that's not the feeling one gets listening to the state's organs. It is an ugly, wound-nursing nationalism one hears. "So strong," said the filmmaker Tang, "that there's almost no introspection, not even among Han intellectuals."

BEIJING: Inspectors for the International Olympic Committee have told Beijing organizers that the Internet must be open for the duration of the 2008 Olympics.

The Internet is routinely censored in China, but Beijing is committed by its "host city contract" to provide the estimated 30,000 media expected for the Olympics the freedom to report as they have at previous Games.

"Even this morning, we discussed and insisted again," said Kevan Gosper, IOC coordination commission vice chairman, "that the Internet is open at all times during Games time."

Speaking Tuesday on the sidelines of the inspection of preparations for the Games, which begin in August, Gosper added, "There was some criticism that the Internet closed down during events relating to Tibet in previous weeks, but this is not Games time.

"Our concern is that the press is able to operate as it has at previous Games during Games time."

Gosper, an Australian who is also chairman of the IOC press commission, said blocking the Internet during the Games "would reflect very poorly" on the host country, but he added that he felt confident the Chinese would fulfill the obligations of their agreement.

"They've given us a huge commitment and changed their legislation extensively to enable the international press to report on the Games," he said.

"On all issues where that's been concerned, they've lived up to the agreement, so we don't see any reason why they'd step back from that now," he added.

New laws loosening the restrictions on foreign media in China went into effect on Jan. 1, 2007, but were due to expire in October.

The coordination commission is holding its 10th and final series of meetings with the Beijing organizers this week.

When asked about Gosper's comments, Jiang Yu, a spokeswoman for the Foreign Ministry, said China's "management" of the Internet followed the "general practice of the international community."

She acknowledged that China banned some Internet content, and that other countries did the same. She declined to say if the Internet would be unrestricted for journalists during the Olympics.

Gosper spoke after Hein Verbruggen, chairman of the inspection committee, addressed his Chinese hosts. Without being specific, Verbruggen noted that the Games, which will take place Aug. 8-24, had become embroiled in controversy.

The unrest in Tibet - and China's response - has heightened calls for a boycott or a partial boycott of the Games. This comes in the wake of worries about Beijing's polluted air and calls for China to increase pressure on Sudan to end fighting in Darfur.

The Olympic torch relay, which left Beijing on Tuesday for Kazakhstan and a global tour, is sure to draw protests and blemish an event that Chinese organizers hope will generate positive images of the country.

"Clearly, in recent times more than ever, the Beijing Games are being drawn into issues that do not necessarily have a link with the operation of the Games," Verbruggen said. "We're all aware the international community is discussing these topics," he said, "but it is important to remember that our main focus during these meetings is the successful delivery of the Games' operations."

The IOC has refused to speak out against Chinese actions in Tibet, saying it is a sporting body, not a political one. It has maintained that the Beijing Games "are a force for good" in opening up the country.

Liu Qi, president of the organizing committee, told Verbruggen that the preparations were in the "final stage."

The People's Daily, the official Communist Party newspaper, warned in an editorial Tuesday that troubles lay ahead in the four months before the Games.

"With the opening of the Games approaching, the burden on our shoulders is heavier and the task tougher," the editorial said. "We must keep a clear head, improving our awareness of the potential dangers, and bravely facing all the difficulties and challenges."