Plain-speaking politicians are still not easy to find in China. Political speeches are inelegantly decorated with catchphrases whose only real purpose is to give the impression that there is a straight line from the communist revolution of 1949 to the industrial revolution of 2005. Delegates to the annual session of the country's parliament will seek to divine meaningful detail this week from unexpected utterances and from who stands next to whom during the ceremonial gatherings.

One of the interesting phrases to flow from an early statement recognises, probably unintentionally, that China is a “great power”, although, as such, its defence spending is relatively paltry. There is truth in the observation, although given the habitual over-charging of US defence contractors, the “real” value of military investment in the two countries is a figure guessed at rather than precisely calculated. More interesting is the gradual recognition by China that it has international influence. It has long been politically advantageous for Beijing to portray itself as just another developing country. As a fitfully fascinating book, China Inc, serialised in The Times last week, illustrated, far from struggling to make its way, China is remaking the world. But what does this emerged superpower believe in? How does it balance the damage done to Bangladeshi weavers or to Mexican factory workers, old developing world allies, by the deserved success of Chinese exporters? How should energy-starved China deal with oil dictatorships? Does Beijing gamble on short-term energy supply at the expense of long-term principles? The Chinese leadership, as do all governments, plays to a local audience at the expense of its growing international profile; the Communist Party’s mandate comes from its ability to maintain “internal stability” and, like Gordon Brown, to create conditions conducive to economic growth. However, unlike Mr Brown, Chinese leaders seem to believe that “to get rich is glorious”.

Nationalism evolves too easily into international nihilism. If “values” stop at the border, while DVD players and mobile phones are exported around the world, diplomatic dysfunction is inevitable. The Chinese Government cites the 2008 Olympics, which will surely be better organised that the 2012 Games (hopefully, in London), as evidence of internationalism, but it could be a hollow celebration of Chinese nationalism unless the new generation of leaders articulates a more coherent cultural context. Finding the right words will also be crucial to convincing Taiwanese, who are now simultaneously courted and threatened, that they are Chinese. The farce over the fate of Tung Chee-hwa, the Hong Kong Chief Executive (Has he resigned? Was he pushed?), highlights a lack of policy transparency that hardly reassures the wary residents of Taipei or worried Washingtonians seemingly convinced that chopsticks are an early sign of Han hegemony.

The delegates at the Great Hall of the People should add another item to the agenda this week: China has stood up — but what does it stand for?