The horrific earthquake in Taiwan has struck Beijing in ways that go beyond the obvious, visible aspects of the disaster. Mainland authorities are as always concerned with establishing Taiwan as a province of China -- and concerned by the fact that an earthquake traditionally marks the end of a dynasty. PNS corespondent Philip Cunningham is a freelance writerinterested in Asian politics and culture, and a research associate at Harvard's Fairbank Center for East Asian Research.

BEIJING -- Imagine a lavish anniversary celebration. Everything is perfect, except the eldest son ran away long ago. Then, just before celebrations start, comes news of a terrible car accident involving the estranged son. What do you do?

The September 21 earthquake in Taiwan poses such a problem for the authorities here. They are irritated by Taiwan's refusal to come back into the national fold and worried that the earthquake is a bad omen for the big celebration of nationhood October 1.

Chinese news coverage of the quake has been muted and sporadic and tends to focus on comments from mainland authorities, ranging from China's Red Cross to Beijing-based seismologists. If they sound nervous, it's not because of aftershocks but because Taiwan's sorrow threatens to cast a shadow on the upcoming celebrations.

The September 22 People's Daily devoted one quarter of its front page to the quake "which struck our country in Taiwan Province," emphasizing President Jiang's comment that Taiwan is "inseparable as flesh and blood," that aid would be offered, and that mainland provinces felt aftershocks.

Beijing Youth News presented the same story with photos and a short article saying the Mid-Autumn Festival will not be a happy one this year. China Daily, aimed at a more international, English-reading audience had less rhetoric about Taiwan's "provincial" status but basically told the same story.

The People's Daily has yet to offer a photo of the disaster, and CCTV news gives only bare bones coverage of the massive fatalities. A day after the news was announced, there was not a word about the quake on CCTV's evening news or in the People's Daily.

The following day, the quake got a brief mention in a picture-less update on China's aid efforts sandwiched between a cheerful feature story about the festive lights and fountains recently put up in cities across China and the weather report.

Why is the Chinese media so tight-lipped about Taiwan's misfortune?

Earthquakes have long been regarded as a sign that a ruler's mandate of heaven is up. The September 21 quake came in the midst of a war of words in which China was threatening military action against Taiwan, catching everyone off guard. Some interpretations:

1) it is divine punishment against Lee Teng-hui for suggesting that Taiwan is a de facto independent state

2) it is a chance for China to demonstrate that Taiwan is an integral part of the country

3) the earthquake means the mandate of heaven is shaky in China on the eve of National Day

Emperors of the Ming and Xing dynasties (1368-1644 and 1644 to 1912) went to tremendous effort and expense to create the appearance of a heavenly mandate. The Imperial Palace, Tiananmen Square, and the Temples of Heaven, Sun, and Moon are all physical manifestations of a politically correct relationship between heaven and earth.

The impulse survives today. Billions of yuan have been spent to give Beijing a massive facelift to reflect the Communist Party's politically correct relationship with the people as the 50th anniversary of the "liberation" of China (except Taiwan) approaches. The streets are clean, flowers are blooming, fountains bubble and shoot skyward as colored lights make the nights festive. On October 1, tens of thousands of students of all ages will join a tightly choreographed march across Tiananmen Square along with tanks, rocket launchers and the People's Army.

In China, where a cyclical view of history still lingers, anniversaries have more resonance than in the West where linear time puts history irretrievably in the past. Anniversaries are loved and dreaded precisely because they bring past events to mind. On October 1, the founding of People's China will be relived, with Chairman Jiang instead of Mao reviewing the troops.

Security is so tight that office buildings facing the parade will be closed, and hotels are asking guests to keep curtains drawn. Cooking gas is banned from the area and the massive rows of temporary toilets are under watch. The extraordinary measures point to the fact that any mishap would not be seen merely as accident or subversive attack (both of which China has seen this year) but a depressing omen for the future of the regime.

Even the sky has been painted blue, almost. To ensure good weather, the authorities have cut off sources of pollution, including the Capital Steel and Ironworks, that normally make Beijing one of the world's smoggiest cities.

Given the desire to throw a perfect party, the Taiwan earthquake could not have come at a worse time. This unluckiness, above and beyond normal humanitarian concerns, has presented Beijing-controlled media with a dilemma. In the season designated to orchestrate praise of half a century of communism, Taiwan, the province that got away, commands attention. The war of "liberation" is not over.

Indeed, Global Times (an informative, "liberal" weekly published under auspices of the People's Daily) warned a new disaster would follow if Taiwan did not refute the "two country theory." Thus missiles could yet fly over the Taiwan Straits, though not until after the fiftieth anniversary is auspiciously celebrated.