There has been hot debate since the suggestion of one academic made the press. Online it has been more of a wholesale denunciation than a real debate.

When Guangming Daily interviewed Wu Youfu, the Party secretary of the Shanghai International Studies University talked at great length about the implicit hazards of having the dragon as China's national symbol. However, when the tabloids picked up the story, it turned into headlines like "Some scholars suggest retiring the dragon," with more than a whiff of discontent in the tone. The underlying message was: How dare you suggest something so abominable as to forsake our ancestry?

This was not the first time I've seen market-driven newspapers disguising commentaries as news reports. Evoking unpatriotic implications is the surest way to enhance one's own image of moral correctness and at the same time sell papers. But it pollutes the air of free and open discourse.

Why can't someone versed in cross-cultural references point out the disparate understandings of a special image that carries layers of meaning throughout our civilization?

Remember the days when China made a toothpaste called "Fangfang" and tried to sell it overseas? Someone like Professor Wu could have come along and told them that no English-speaking consumer would buy a product that might turn their teeth into fangs.

A symbol like the dragon exists for two purposes: To exemplify our collective traits, and to help other people to understand us. If what they may perceive differs from what we want to project, the symbol would have failed on at least one of these counts.

Professor Wu was not putting down centuries-old Chinese heritage, but making it relevant in the age of globalization, when China is rising fast on the world stage and cares a lot about how it is seen by others.

That said, I don't support his proposal. And like Wu, I'm approaching it from a technical rather than emotional point of view.

The usefulness of the mythical beast outlasts any potential drawback. In essence, the dragon is like a school mascot. The difference is that since it carries the history of 7,000 years and represents a fifth of the world's population, tinkering is impractical.

Given the circumstances, it would be more practicable to reshape perception rather than the image itself. True, when Westerners conjure up the idea of the dragon, it's likely to be a fiery beast of destruction. But don't forget, when we Chinese think of a mouse, it is an annoying creature that nibbles our food and spreads disease. Walt Disney single-handedly transformed it into a cute character that can sing and dance to our delight.

Changes are already on the way. In countries like the United States, dragon boat racing and the dragon dance are making inroads from Chinatown into the mainstream. From my observation, not even kids are scared.

The dragon in the West does not invoke the same fearful reaction as a carnivorous dinosaur, but rather a feeling of awe. It is not as awe-inspiring as the dinosaur, granted, and certainly not as beloved as the panda.

The real problem, as I see it, is the dragon's close association with imperial power, which is reinforced every night through TV soap operas. When we watch people who are willing to kill millions for access to the "dragon seat," it instils something into the psyche of our children, something incongruous with the growth of our nation.

So, the first step for the image overhaul is to take the dragon down from its throne and make it a little more egalitarian.

(China Daily 12/09/2006 page4)