Underground City

Stand still for a moment in the narrow lanes south of Tiananmen Square. Bicycle bells ring behind you. Someone fries dough in hot oil at a corner stall. The grey brick of the old hutongs, the traditional alleyways of Beijing, holds the morning cool. Under your feet is ordinary pavement, worn smooth. But somewhere beneath this neighbourhood, a different city lies in the dark. It has no traffic and no voices. It was dug by hand, and it was built for a war that never came.

This is the Underground City, known in Chinese as Dixia Cheng. It is a network of tunnels and shelters beneath central Beijing. Work on it began in 1969. At that time, relations between China and the Soviet Union had collapsed into open hostility. The two countries fought armed clashes along their shared border that same year. In Beijing, leaders feared a Soviet attack on the capital, perhaps even a nuclear one. Their answer was to go underground.

The guiding phrase of that era came from Mao Zedong. In English it is usually translated as "Dig tunnels deep, store grain everywhere, never seek hegemony." Hegemony here means domination over other nations. The slogan appeared on posters and in speeches across the country. It turned civil defence into a mass campaign. Cities all over China dug shelters during these years. But the effort beneath Beijing became one of the largest and best known.

Here is the first thing many visitors do not expect. Much of this work was not done by army engineers with heavy machines. Ordinary residents dug a large part of it. Neighbourhood committees, shop workers, students and families took part. People used shovels, picks and baskets. In some households, the work reportedly began close to home, and shafts led down from courtyards and shops. Imagine the soil carried up, basket after basket, from the ground you are standing on now.

The exact size of the network is hard to state with confidence. Figures in popular accounts vary widely, and the official records are not public. What is clear is that the tunnels were meant to be more than simple bunkers. Accounts describe spaces planned as shelters, storerooms, and medical areas. There were said to be places for grain, wells for water, and ventilation shafts to bring in air. The idea was that a part of the city could survive below while the surface burned.

Legend fills the gaps that records leave. Locals say the tunnels once linked to government sites and even ran toward the Western Hills on the edge of the city. Some stories claim that every major district had a secret entrance. These tales are repeated often, but they are difficult to verify. It is safer to treat them as folklore. They do tell us something true, though. For many Beijing residents, the hidden city became a part of the imagination of the capital.

The war never arrived. Relations with the Soviet Union slowly eased, and the tunnels lost their purpose. In the years that followed, parts of the underground spaces found new uses. Some became storage rooms. Some became cheap lodging, and some became small shops. In the wider city, a whole population of people lived in basements and shelters for years. Locals sometimes called them the "rat tribe", a nickname that was more sad than cruel.

Around the turn of the century, one section in this Qianmen area opened to visitors. Tourists walked down a staircase into cool, damp corridors with arched ceilings. Signs pointed the way to different districts of the old city above. Many visitors from that time remember something odd. Tours often passed a silk shop set up deep inside the tunnels. Bedding and scarves were for sale under the earth. It was an unusual mix of Cold War history and souvenir trade.

Now comes the second surprise, and it matters for your visit today. The tourist section closed for renovation around 2008, and it has not reopened to the general public as a regular attraction. Access has been reported as closed for many years since then. Plans and rumours about reopening appear from time to time. If you came here hoping to walk the tunnels, check the latest local information before you build your day around it.

So what can you see from the street? Look at the doorways and small buildings in these lanes. Some older entrances to shelters in Beijing look like simple sheds or sealed steel doors. They blend into the walls. You may notice low concrete structures, grilles, or vents at ground level. Not every one of them belongs to the tunnel network, so keep an open mind. Still, the habit of looking down and wondering is part of the experience here.

The neighbourhood above also has its own story. This is the Qianmen and Dashilan area, just south of the old city gate. For centuries it was a district of merchants, theatres, inns and old shops. Some of the lanes have been rebuilt and polished for visitors. Others keep their uneven bricks, tangled wires and potted plants on the doorsteps. Walk a few minutes in any direction, and you will see both faces of modern Beijing side by side.

It helps to picture the contrast. Up here, there are tea shops, delivery scooters and the smell of roasted chestnuts in cooler months. Down below, there is still air, bare concrete and silence. The two cities were built for opposite purposes. One was built for daily life and trade. The other was built to survive the end of daily life. Both were made by the same families, sometimes in the same years.

As you walk away, listen to the ordinary sounds of this street. Listen for the scrape of a broom, a conversation through an open window, a bicycle bumping over the bricks. They are the sounds that the tunnel builders hoped to protect. The shelters below stayed empty of the war they were dug for. Perhaps that is the best ending such a place could have. Take one last look at the pavement under your shoes, and then carry on into the lanes.