40 Years of Transformation: Is Europe Today Repeating the Mistakes China Made 50 Years Ago?
From Qingdao in 1986 to Europe in 2026. Jun Jiang on forty years between two worlds, and why Europe should not repeat the mistakes China made fifty years ago. With a film in English, Dutch and Chinese.
By Jun Jiang
There is an old Chinese saying: "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river." Another expression carries a similar meaning: "Fortunes change, and the wheel keeps turning."
I used to regard these sayings simply as traditional Chinese wisdom. Today, looking back on nearly 40 years of living between China and Europe, I have come to understand their deeper meaning.
History can sometimes be remarkably ironic.
Forty years ago, in China, I was suspected of being a spy because I had a relationship with a Westerner.
Forty years later, in Europe, I find myself being accused of being a spy because of my connections with China.
Has the world really changed? Or have certain ways of thinking never changed at all?
The film 24:18
The article as an animated film, read by an AI voice. The film is also available in Dutch and Chinese.
1. In 1986, I Was Suspected of Being a Spy in China
In 1986, in Qingdao, China, I met the man who would later become my husband and the father of my son. He was Belgian.
At that time, China had only recently begun its reform and opening-up process. Although the Cultural Revolution had officially ended, its ideological influence was still deeply rooted in society.
Having a relationship with a foreigner carried political risks. For a young Chinese woman dating a Western man, such a relationship could easily attract suspicion.
One day, while we were walking together along the beach in Qingdao, we were suddenly stopped by public security officers and taken to the police station.
They suspected that I could only be one of two things: either a spy or a prostitute.
In the end, perhaps because I was too young and too pretty, they seemed more inclined to believe I was the latter.
Haha!
It sounds absurd today. But in those days, such an incident was not entirely surprising.
Political ideology dominated almost every aspect of life in China.
Whom you associated with, what films you watched, what music you listened to, or even whether you showed curiosity about the Western world could become a political matter.
I loved fashion and beautiful clothes from a young age. At school, I was frequently criticised by teachers for my appearance, which they considered a sign of bourgeois thinking.
Looking back, it seems almost unbelievable.
What does a young girl's love of beautiful clothes have to do with politics? And what on earth does it have to do with national security?
Yet in those days, even the most ordinary personal choices could be turned into political questions.
Why?
Because China at that time lagged far behind developed Western countries economically and socially.
For many years, China imposed strict restrictions on Western culture and information. Particularly before the reform era, Western films, music, books and accounts of everyday life abroad were largely inaccessible to ordinary Chinese citizens.
In my view, one important reason was that the political system lacked confidence in its ability to withstand outside ideological influences.
China was economically backward, while Western countries were highly developed.
What would happen if ordinary Chinese people were allowed to see how people in Western countries actually lived?
Would they begin asking uncomfortable questions?
Why are they so wealthy while we are so poor?
Why do their workers enjoy such living standards while ours do not?
Why are we constantly taught to be suspicious of Western capitalism, yet rarely given the opportunity to see what those societies are really like?
The simplest solution was to restrict the flow of information and allow people to understand the world only through a limited narrative.
But what were the consequences of isolation?
It did not make the West any less developed.
It simply deprived Chinese people of the opportunity to understand the world and learn from those who were more advanced.
Even more dangerously, when a society allows only one interpretation of reality, people can gradually lose their ability to think independently.
2. In 1989, I Questioned Everything I Had Been Taught
In 1988, I moved to Belgium through marriage. For the first time, I experienced European society from within and began receiving a Western education.
When I encountered ordinary Europeans, their lifestyles, culture and social institutions, I was genuinely astonished.
The Europe I discovered was so different from the Europe I had read about in Chinese newspapers.
I had grown up being taught that capitalism was a system in which capitalists exploited workers, and ordinary working people suffered oppression and poverty.
But when I arrived in Belgium, I discovered a very different reality.
People were friendly and polite. Society was orderly. The economy and culture were highly developed. The living standards, social protection and personal freedoms enjoyed by ordinary workers were far beyond anything I had imagined.
For the first time, I realised that someone could have very strong opinions about the world without ever having truly experienced it.
In 1989, I returned to China for my first family visit.
The very first question I asked my father when I arrived home was:
"Dad, why is the real Europe so different from what our newspapers told us? Why are Europeans so friendly, and why are their countries so developed? Their workers seem to live very well. They are not poor and oppressed as we were taught!"
My father was a member of the Chinese Communist Party and served as a logistics officer in the Chinese Navy.
He had even placed some of his personal ambitions in my name.
He named me Jiang Jun, which sounds exactly like the Chinese word for "general"!
But what impressed me most was that he did not respond to my questions with ideological arguments.
Instead, he calmly replied:
"Western countries have already had several hundred years to develop. China has only just begun. But things will get better."
I have remembered those words for nearly 40 years.
Today, I understand my father's attitude more deeply than ever.
He did not deny the achievements of the West. Nor did China's relative poverty destroy his confidence in its future.
He acknowledged reality while remaining optimistic about what lay ahead.
What a simple, yet profoundly rational attitude.
Recognising that others are more advanced does not mean being disloyal to your own country. On the contrary, only by acknowledging the gap can you begin to close it.
The first essential step in China's subsequent development was precisely the liberation of thinking.
But what does it really mean to liberate one's thinking?
It means breaking away from the habit of judging everything first through the ideological division between socialism and capitalism.
If Western technology is more advanced, learn from it.
If Western management methods are effective, adopt them.
If foreign investment can help develop the economy, welcome it.
A country's progress does not begin by denying the achievements of others.
It begins with the courage to recognise its own weaknesses and learn from those who have done better.
China's subsequent transformation is powerful evidence of this principle.
3. Forty Years Later, History Has Turned Around
Forty years have passed.
China is no longer the country I knew in 1986.
Economic reforms, accession to the World Trade Organization, foreign investment, technology transfers, education and the hard work of the Chinese people have transformed the country beyond recognition.
The results have attracted worldwide attention.
Of course, China still has many problems to address. There is much that needs improvement.
But anyone who has genuinely visited China and seriously observed its transformation would find it difficult to deny its extraordinary development over the past four decades.
In recent years, I have organised numerous visits to China for European entrepreneurs, investors and professionals.
We have visited Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen, Hangzhou, Guangzhou and Hefei, meeting Chinese business leaders, visiting companies and research institutions, and speaking with local people.
Almost every time, at the end of these visits, I hear the same reaction:
"The real China is completely different from the China we see in the European media!"
Visitors are surprised by the modernisation of Chinese cities, the infrastructure, the technological applications, the speed and efficiency of Chinese businesses, and the everyday lives of ordinary people.
Some arrive believing that China's economy still depends primarily on cheap labour and low-cost manufacturing.
But after seeing automated production lines, the electric vehicle industry, artificial intelligence applications and the speed of Chinese innovation, they begin to realise how outdated their perception has become.
What strikes me most is how closely their surprise resembles my own feelings when I first arrived in Europe in 1988.
Forty years ago, I came to Europe and discovered that the real Europe was very different from what Chinese media had described.
Forty years later, I bring Europeans to China, and they discover that the real China is very different from what European media have led them to believe.
History seems to have come full circle.
But behind this circle lies a question far more profound than my personal experience.
Why, after 40 years of technological progress and globalisation, can people still develop such incomplete perceptions of another country?
Why can a country undergo such remarkable development while so many people elsewhere remain largely unaware of its achievements?
Is it really a lack of information?
Or have we become increasingly accustomed to accepting only information that confirms our existing political beliefs?
4. Is Europe Repeating China's Thinking from 50 Years Ago?
This is a question I find increasingly difficult to ignore.
Today, much of the political discussion and media coverage about China in Europe is framed around geopolitics, national security threats and ideological competition.
Chinese technological progress is frequently interpreted as a strategic threat.
Chinese investment often immediately raises national security concerns.
China's growing competitiveness in international markets is increasingly viewed through a political lens.
Sometimes I cannot help feeling that certain people have become accustomed to a rather strange logic:
When China was poor and backward, it was criticised for being backward. Now that China has made progress, its progress itself has become a source of alarm.
So what exactly is China supposed to do to avoid being perceived as a threat?
Is a country of more than 1.4 billion people expected to remain permanently at the bottom of the global value chain simply to satisfy certain Western expectations?
Of course, China is not a country without problems. Europe has every right to protect its technology, industries, markets and national security interests.
But protecting one's interests and politicising every form of international cooperation are two entirely different things.
If the political atmosphere makes people reluctant to discuss China's achievements objectively, unwilling to examine its development experience seriously, or even suspicious of ordinary business, cultural and academic exchanges, then Europe should be concerned.
Because this way of thinking is very familiar to me.
In 1986, I was treated with suspicion in China because of my relationship with a foreigner.
Forty years later, in Europe, I have again been accused of being a spy, this time because of my business connections with China and my efforts to write objective articles about the country.
I find it both absurd and amusing.
Since when do spies operate so publicly that they make sure the entire world knows what they are doing? 😂
Back in China, some people suspected that I was working for the West.
Today in Europe, some people suspect that I am working for China.
Must everyone who moves between countries, understands different cultures and builds connections across societies be suspected of having a political agenda?
Does recognising China's achievements automatically mean being against Europe?
Must a person first prove their political loyalty before being allowed to observe another country objectively?
I have lived in Europe for nearly 40 years. I love its culture, history and art, and I respect its institutions and social values.
At the same time, I remain deeply attached to China, the country where I was born.
Why should these two feelings be mutually exclusive?
Why can I not appreciate Europe while also acknowledging China's achievements?
Must I criticise China in order to prove my loyalty to Europe?
If that is the case, where exactly are the freedom of expression and independent thinking that Europe is so proud of?
When political positions begin to replace factual judgement, and ordinary exchanges are viewed as potential threats, how different is this way of thinking from the China I experienced 40 years ago?
5. What Europe Should Really Fear Is Not China's Development
Europe today still possesses an extraordinary cultural and historical heritage, strong scientific traditions, world-class universities, industrial expertise, artistic achievements and legal institutions.
Having lived here for nearly 40 years, I understand these achievements deeply and have always admired them.
Sometimes, when I feel disappointed by certain developments in Europe today, I visit a museum, admire European paintings or architecture, or attend a classical music concert.
The depth and richness of European civilisation never fail to inspire my respect.
And it is precisely because of that respect that I am increasingly concerned about Europe's future.
Europe's challenges do not come only from external competition.
Its fragmented internal market, difficulties in policy coordination, complex decision-making procedures, slow commercialisation of innovation and challenges to industrial investment are all affecting its competitiveness.
None of these problems will automatically disappear simply because Europe adopts a tougher political attitude towards China.
If Chinese electric vehicles are more competitive, Europe should examine how China built its battery supply chains, achieved large-scale manufacturing and accelerated the commercialisation of technology.
If Chinese companies can bring new technologies from laboratories to markets so rapidly, Europe should ask whether its own innovation and industrial systems need reform.
If European entrepreneurs return from China having discovered valuable technologies, management practices and business opportunities, we should encourage more such exchanges rather than make them feel politically uncomfortable for expressing positive observations.
Learning from a competitor's strengths is not the same as endorsing that competitor's political system.
Unfortunately, in some political discussions today, these two concepts are increasingly confused.
China transformed its economic future by opening itself to the outside world, importing advanced technology and participating in global competition.
So why should Europe not approach China with the same willingness to learn?
Why should recognising Chinese leadership in certain industries become politically embarrassing?
Europe must protect its legitimate interests. But protection is not the same as exclusion, and competition does not mean cooperation must end.
I have consistently defended one principle:
Europe must protect its own interests, but never at the expense of its own development opportunities and future competitiveness.
If Europe seeks to reduce its dependence on China but simultaneously sacrifices markets, investment, innovation partnerships and industrial opportunities, the ultimate cost will not be paid by political slogans.
It will be paid by European companies, workers and future generations.
A mature and confident society should be capable of recognising both the strengths and weaknesses of its competitors.
The real danger is not that a competitor becomes stronger.
The real danger is that, out of fear of a stronger competitor, we gradually lose the willingness to understand, learn from and eventually outperform that competitor.
6. Ideology Should Never Become an Obstacle to Progress
I have always believed that political ideology may influence a country's institutional choices, but it should not determine what people are allowed to see, what they are allowed to know, or what conclusions they are permitted to reach.
If a society accepts only information that fits its political narrative, it risks gradually losing its ability to understand reality in its entirety.
This is exactly what I experienced growing up in China.
We were repeatedly told about the problems of Western capitalism, yet we had very few opportunities to understand the daily lives of ordinary people in Western countries.
Today, when I meet Europeans whose perceptions of China appear to be decades out of date, or who have never visited the country yet hold very firm opinions about it, I cannot help remembering my younger self.
There is, however, one important difference.
In the China of my youth, ordinary people had very limited access to information about the outside world.
Today, Europeans have access to the internet, international travel, freedom of the press and a relatively open information environment.
We have more sophisticated information tools than ever before. So why does our understanding of the world sometimes seem increasingly shaped by political positions rather than direct knowledge?
Of course, Europe today is fundamentally different from China 50 years ago.
Europe still has relatively independent media, political pluralism, space for public debate and legal mechanisms to limit government power.
Chinese media also engage in selective reporting and political narratives.
I am not suggesting that Europe has already become the China of the past.
What concerns me is that certain areas of European political thinking are beginning to display a disturbingly familiar tendency:
We are becoming increasingly accustomed to understanding the world through political positions rather than beginning with facts.
When the definition of national security keeps expanding, when political suspicion starts replacing objective analysis, and when people are labelled according to their opinions, the openness of society itself may begin to suffer.
The most troubling development occurs when people become so accustomed to attaching political labels to others that they no longer feel obliged to respond to their arguments.
Instead of examining the facts, they question the speaker's identity.
Instead of addressing an argument, they question the speaker's motives.
Instead of engaging with a different perspective, they question the speaker's loyalty.
It is the easiest way to avoid a difficult discussion.
And perhaps also the most dangerous.
Because it gradually deprives a society of its ability to question itself.
A truly confident country does not need to constantly remind its citizens how dangerous the outside world is.
It trusts its citizens to think independently, explore different sources of information, understand other societies and form their own conclusions.
If a country must constantly emphasise the negative image of its competitors in order to maintain its own sense of superiority, perhaps what it should really be questioning is its own declining self-confidence.
7. Forty Years Later, My Principles Have Never Changed
In 1989, I returned to China from Europe and questioned why Chinese media had failed to show me a more accurate picture of Europe.
In 2026, I organise visits to China for Europeans because I want them to have the opportunity to see a more complete picture of China.
My role may have changed.
Back then, I was a young Chinese woman eager to understand the Western world.
Today, I am someone working to strengthen understanding and cooperation between China and Europe.
But my principles have never changed.
I have never believed that China is without problems, nor have I ever believed that every European criticism of China is wrong.
I have always believed one simple thing:
People have the right to understand a country as fully and accurately as possible, rather than being limited to an image filtered through political ideology.
I do not want anyone to blindly believe in China because of my articles.
Equally, I do not want anyone to blindly reject China because of what certain politicians or media outlets tell them.
My purpose has never been to make Europeans like China, much less to defend any political system.
I want people to know the facts, see the country with their own eyes, and make their own judgements.
That, to me, is what independent thinking means.
Forty years ago, I wanted China to become more open and learn courageously from Europe.
Today, I want Europe to maintain that same spirit of openness and not allow China's rise to prevent it from recognising what China has to offer.
Because I have personally experienced what a relatively closed China, constrained by political ideology, looked like.
And I have personally witnessed how dramatically China changed after opening itself to the world.
As I reflect on these four decades, I find myself remembering the words my father spoke to me in 1989:
"China has only just begun. But things will get better."
At that time, he had great confidence in China's future.
Forty years later, I hope that the next generation of Europeans will feel the same confidence in their own future.
But confidence cannot be built merely on memories of past glory.
It must be built on the willingness to confront reality, embrace competition, innovate continuously and learn from others.
Europe has a magnificent history.
But historical greatness does not automatically guarantee future prosperity.
A country that once led the world is not destined to lead forever.
Equally, a country that was once poor and underdeveloped is not condemned to remain so.
Is that not precisely what China's transformation over the past 50 years has demonstrated?
Fifty years ago, China paid a heavy price for ideological rigidity, isolation and fear of the outside world.
Fifty years later, Europe must be careful not to repeat those mistakes simply because it fears competition from China.
History does not repeat itself in exactly the same way.
But certain ways of thinking can reappear in different countries and different periods.
As the Chinese saying reminds us:
"Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river."
What I hope Europe will understand is not simply the changing balance of global power, but the historical lessons behind that transformation.
A society's decline does not necessarily begin when it loses its wealth or technology.
It may begin when it loses the willingness to see the world objectively and acknowledge the progress of others.
Forty years ago, I wanted China to open its eyes to the world.
Forty years later, I hope Europe will not close its eyes to the world.
This is not a question of being pro-China or anti-Western.
These are the reflections of someone who has spent nearly four decades living between two worlds, observing history, reality and the changes taking place around us.
I love China, the country of my birth, and I deeply value Europe, where I have spent almost 40 years of my life.
That is precisely why I do not want either side to lose opportunities for progress because of arrogance, prejudice or ideology.
Above all, I do not want to see Europe, which once helped China discover the wider world, lose the courage to understand a world that is now changing before its eyes.
Jun Jiang
Belgium, 11 November 2026
