Pratik Jakhar

China’s zero Covid strategy is being undermined by mahjong

(Photo: Getty)

Mao Zedong once said that the game of mahjong should not be underestimated, because:

‘If you know how to play it, you’ll have a better understanding of the relationship between chance and necessity. There’s philosophy in mahjong. It’s also dialectical… even if you have the worst hand, as long as you are strategic and methodical, the inferior will become superior; weakness will become strength.’

He even claimed the tile-based game was one of China’s three ‘great contributions’ to the world. Ironically, mahjong was outlawed under his rule. The early communists viewed it as an unnecessary distraction for the masses, and disliked its links to gambling and capitalism. It was not until 1985 the ban was lifted. Today the game is as popular as ever.

Walk around any street corner or a park in China and you are likely to hear the sound of tiles clacking and middle-aged men and women hunched over a rectangular board. With sweat dripping from their faces and with nervous puffs at a cigarette, the players hustle the tiles in marathon sessions that can last for hours on end. Crowds can quickly gather if the battle gets heated or if a showdown looms. Some locals complain about being woken up by the shuffling of the heavy tiles.

In China’s all-out war against the coronavirus, mahjong is becoming a nuisance for the authorities

It is said that friendships, relationships, and even business partnerships are formed – or broken – around a mahjong table. It is not difficult to see why. The game has for years brought communities together, cutting across gender, class, geography and demographics – although younger people now tend to play it on their smartphones. For the aficionados, there are numerous smoke-filled fluorescent-lit mahjong dens dotted around Chinese cities, where gaggles of elderly people can be seen strolling in and out of underground bunkers.

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