The Chinese Communist regime's had planned to stage the 2008 Olympic Games as a triumphant celebration of itself as a model of success. But anyone traveling through the country's provinces will encounter a crumbling realm threatened by forces released by its economic boom.

The man who can explain China is sitting in a private booth in an old teahouse in Beijing, holding court at an antique table with a laptop on it. Black and white photos hang on the walls and silk cushions adorn the benches. In the world outside, the Olympic Torch is making its way through the country and slowly approaching Beijing. The man says that the West is taking the easy route with China, despite its enormous complexity. "In this country, every movement takes place at the edge of an abyss."

The group gathered around the man in the teahouse booth includes a woman who professes to be a Christian, a young Chinese man who studied political science abroad, a Western attorney and an African diplomat. They spend six hours drinking tea and snacking on nuts and dried olives, six hours during which the man will talk about his country, both critically and with affection, and about the steep, rocky path on which he believes the country finds itself, and he will say that China would probably break apart without the regulatory hand of the party, and that holding it all together takes patience, wisdom and even some luck.

The man insists on anonymity because his connections extend into the highest ranks of the party and government and because, now, shortly before the Olympics, all words are laden with meaning. He knows the major players because he himself is the son of a once-powerful man who fell out of favor while former dictator Mao Zedong was still alive. The man, who looks to be about 50, leads a bohemian lifestyle today. Nevertheless, he has access to the palaces surrounding Tiananmen Square -- the Square of Heavenly Peace -- and continues to act as a go-between among the influential.