You step out of your small apartment, a relic from the bygone days of the Soviet-Sino friendship. Out into the drab stairwell, greeted with each passing floor by a block of a door, dull festive decorations lingering on a few. You walk out of the island of a courtyard, past the cracked footpath and onto the main street.
And there you are, greeted by a bleached city, greeted by an old black and white film of a city, forever stuck under that grey sky, forever trapped in the past.
The sun, as always, appears ashamed.
And so you walk down the streets, mindful of the city's own tune, the honking of cars, the characteristic ka-pu! of spit being flung at the pavement.
And it all seems like a pastiche of past relics, hastily captured by an aging camera.
You've heard your parents tell you that Beijing is a wonderful city, a growing city, o how wonderfully it's changing. You hear them ask "do you consider yourself to be from Beijing?"
And all you can do is be glad that you're not caught in one of those duststorms you've heard so much about.
***
It should surprise none that China, as a political entity, may be described aptly as "fascist". It should not be a surprise that single party system, operating within an economic system of dirigisme, would have fascistic tendencies.
So it is at this point that we are caught in a dilemma. If we accept that these tendencies must be opposed, that the violent suppression of protesters, and the blatant genocide of ethnic minorities must be opposed, then we find ourselves caught in a dilemma of responses.
This is not an economic argument, that by opposing China, we run the risk of destabilising our economies. This is not an argument based on such archaic notions as patriotism, or sovereignty.
Rather, if we accept that China must be opposed, then we must decide on the method of opposition. In this, we find ourselves in a dilemma of responses.
We could, of course, have a Cold War Redux. We could recreate High Noon, have a stand off. Of course, such a comparison isn't quite accurate. No, it would rather be more akin to a stereotypical mafia war, with entire countries used as pawns, or back-alley brawls. And where would these brawls take place? Why, in developing countries, in Africa, in South East Asia, in South America, in the Middle East. And there in lies the issue. Suppose we take this path. How ironic would it be that in attempting to struggle against a fascist, that we destabilise entire regions that have yet to fully recover from the last Cold War. Of course, I use "destabilise" as an euphemism. We must not forget that in the Cold War, both sides propped up brutal dictatorships, in the almost absurd notion that we would at least prefer our crackpot to a system that the people would prefer.
We must not forget the shamble that was decolonisation, from which some nations have yet to recover from, or the aftermath of the Cold War. We must not forget the Red Scare, the psychological effects of which still remains in America, from their obstinate refusal to have public healthcare, to their political rhetoric. We must not forget the dangers of McCarthyism, and the censorship within all levels of society.
In combating fascism, we must not become the world's policemen again.
Conversely, we could carry on as before, perhaps have a miniature Cold War, an almost comical parallel of our current mini ice age. Yet, would this even be a desirable approach? What, to allow the blind market forces to fix our issues, to rely on aging politicians, to give ourselves unto the beneficence of the wealthy? To cry out unto deaf ears, to keep mewing "please sir, may I have some more?" To have the image of our lives be that of a deadbeat job, a rising dreariness? To become ironic, detached, disaffected? To see our fellow humans suffer, to suffer ourselves, and to not even have the soothing opioid of faith?
As we stand, we rely on blind market forces. We have accepted that this subconscious agreement, this unread terms and agreement paper, has absolute power over our lives. We are in an abusive relationship, where the only relief is to pretend that this is all that has been, that this is all that is, that this is all that will be. There is, at least seemingly, no escape.
We have killed God. But we did not kill faith.
You may, of course, protest, that all is not as it seems. That our blind helmsman will pull us through this vortex. That these issues, born from human avarice, born from human ignorance, will be solved, rendered impotent through our loving helmsman.
To this, I respond, social progress is a series of steps. It is the conscious effort by multitudes of like-minded individuals, whom, upon seeing injustice, proceed to take up arms. Whether they take the form of peaceful approaches, or a militant fury, does not matter. These agreements, of course, must be shared between all to take effect.
So then, what road should we take? We cannot embrace the Cold War, nor can we proceed as is.
I would argue that we must embrace democracy. It is not sufficient for us to merely vote for a politician. We do not vote for who donates to politicians, we do not decide which policies are taken in accordance to the wealth of the few.
We do not decide whether or not some go hungry, some go homeless out of sheer chance, out of our good helmsman. The landlord adjusts housing prices in accordance of the market; he too is a victim, hated by those he harms for reasons he cannot control.
Were the indigenous peoples of Australia respected when a mining company destroyed their heritage?
Were those living in fire affected communities respected when our Prime Minister scoffs at renewables, and enjoys generous stipends from our ever appreciated coal industries?
If we are to combat fascism, we require an ideological framework. If it is true that our Western ideals are built upon individualism, and free will, then let us embrace that. Let us no longer rely on our addled helmsman, let us not place our faith in this corrupt contract.
So in order to struggle, both against fascism and for the sake of ourselves, we must change. We must turn away from our helmsman.