So, I woke up with a hangover. It was understandable; I had likely had too much to drink the night before to fully process everything that had happened over the previous 48 hours.
A visit to mainland China, particularly its capital, Beijing, had always been on my bucket list. That I was actually there that morning, sprawled in bed nursing a massive headache, felt almost surreal. But I had to drag myself out and prepare for the morning’s activity: a lecture on “Digital Media and Public Opinion in China” by Professor Zhang Di of the Renmin University of China’s School of Journalism.
By then, I had no problem finding my way to the breakfast hall. I had bonded with participants from Indonesia and Laos the day before, and we had agreed to head there together.
The lecture introduced us to the country’s unique social media scene and the “Great Firewall,” a combination of legislative actions and sophisticated technologies designed to block access to specific foreign websites and filter content. To critics, the system may seem stifling or even restrictive; however, based on my firsthand experience, it still allows citizens to express themselves in various forms. The caveat is that they must not go beyond pre-agreed boundaries; otherwise, they face consequences.
There is no such thing as complete freedom, even when living in a liberal democracy like the US. Trust me, there are so many petty rules over there that border on the ridiculous, all in the name of respecting individual rights. In a country as massive in area and population as China, focusing on the individual is a recipe for disaster. Thousands of years of ethos and tradition, passed down through generations, cannot be easily dismantled or dismissed. These traditions prioritize shared values and emphasize the need for a united China.
Social media users in China have it easy in a sense: they know where they stand. As long as they don’t wander too far, the government basically leaves them alone. I’m talking about hundreds of millions of people who have accepted the system and actually thrive in it. You can’t ask 999 voices to be quiet just because one voice disagrees. Obviously, you can’t please everyone, but those outliers are the exception rather than the rule.
Before I get ahead of myself and come across as a sociopathic, maniacal-dictator-in-the-making, which, given the right circumstances, I could actually see happening, I should clarify that I understood the Chinese government’s logic even before I was flown to the capital.
Those of us who live in the “Western sphere of influence” have been brought up to believe that liberal democracy is the only legitimate form of democracy, or government, for that matter. Countries that don’t toe the party line, so to speak, are automatically branded as “enemies” or “bad.” Never mind if Washington snuggles up to an authoritarian regime that still chops off the heads of criminals; the latter is a friend simply because Washington says so.
Now you see where I’m going with this. China has inadvertently become America’s existential enemy because it not only refused to adopt liberal democracy but succeeded in nurturing a homegrown alternative: “whole-process people’s democracy.” In doing so, it has shown the world that there is an alternative to the system the West has been forcing on other countries since the end of the Second World War.
Many of the problems that former colonies face today stem from the fact that they operate under systems of government that are foreign to them, systems that dismiss their culture and traditions and denigrate their beliefs.
I know this because of what I have read. I know this because of what I have seen in my travels. I know this because I have lived in countries as diverse as Saudi Arabia, Switzerland and the US. I know this because I have been to China.
Some might say that a two-week stay is not enough to get a feel for a regime. Perhaps. I personally would have liked to stay longer. But it is still possible to gain insight, especially if you have done your homework beforehand. That’s why, when you go to China, do so with an open mind. Learn about its history and its ancient civilizations. Learn about its “century of humiliation” under foreign powers. Learn about the suffering it endured during the Japanese occupation and the Second World War. Learn about the civil war that ensued. Learn about how the Communist Party managed to emerge victorious despite the odds. Learn about the failure of the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution. Learn about how Deng Xiaoping transformed China into a socialist market economy. Learn about the massive global infrastructure strategy called the Belt and Road Initiative, launched by Xi Jinping.
Then you understand why some countries feel threatened. That’s also how you transition from a personal anecdote about a hangover into a broader geopolitical argument. I knew what I was getting into when I accepted the invitation.
The lectures in the succeeding days served as a primer — an abridged introduction to where China is headed in the next few years. These included: “China-US Relations and Major-Power Strategic Rivalry” by Professor Wang Yong of Peking University’s School of International Studies; “Chinese Path to Modernization: Orientation, Connotation and Global Significance” by Professor Zhang Xiaomeng, Party Secretary of Renmin University of China’s Academy of Discipline Inspection and Supervision; and “Chinese Media: Past and Present” by Associate Professor Chen Jijing of the Renmin University of China’s School of Journalism.
And as I said earlier, I already had a bias for China because I admire how it has transformed within one generation. The official visits in Beijing to Huawei, the Zhongguancun International Robotics Industrial Park, the High-Level Autonomous Driving Demonstration Zone Innovation Center, the Museum of the Communist Party of China, and the JD.com headquarters, as well as the trip to Zhengzhou, Henan, via high-speed train, which included visits to the Henan Media Group, Yutong Bus Co. Ltd., and the Henan Museum, merely reinforced my bias. A side trip to the Great Wall and the vicinity of the Forbidden City during our free time was a bonus.
But what I valued most during the experience was the chance to mingle and share stories with colleagues from the 14 other participating countries. Perhaps it is because I work for a community paper outside of the National Capital Region that I, as a sole representative of the Philippines, felt so isolated from events in the region.
I envied how participants from Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, and Thailand talked about crossing their borders on a regular basis for coverage. Or how participants from Indonesia, Timor-Leste and Malaysia could converse with each other using Bahasa.
On our last night, drinking in the Sri Lankan participant’s hotel room, he shared how he had mixed feelings about leaving. I understood what he meant. We were hardly apart during those two weeks together. It was impossible not to feel sad about going our separate ways.
But I, as the second oldest in the group, told him bluntly that we would probably forget each other in a day or two as soon as we got back to our own countries. That is why the memory of that last night of camaraderie will forever be etched in my mind as I return to my humdrum routine.