The Hustle and Bustle of Toronto: A Magical City

My friends often describe Toronto as a "magical city," and I deeply agree. Its "magic" lies not only in its diverse cultural coexistence, but also in its resemblance to a vast laboratory of political phenomena. In a single month, this city sees a multitude of political expressions: from pride parades by Taiwanese communities to calls for Taiwan's entry into the United Nations; from Falun Gong rallies to protests against local Canadian governments, and even the nativist voice of "Canada First."

When these demands, identities, and ideologies converge in the same urban space, they create an extremely complex, even chaotic, landscape. As an international observer, I do not intend to judge the merits of these activities, but rather to reflect on and understand the essence and challenges of the art of governance through this clamor.

On the surface, these groups appear to be able to briefly unite around a vague issue (for example, dissatisfaction with the existing order). However, a pragmatic examination reveals that this is not a united alliance, but rather a temporary, self-defeating "square aggregation." Their only commonality may be that they share the same venue; their underlying interests and ultimate goals are not only divergent but even fundamentally incompatible.

The core demand for "supporting Taiwan's entry into the UN" is Taiwan's independent sovereignty, which is fundamentally structurally contradictory to the "democratic China" advocated by some—the political vision of a unified nation. Meanwhile, groups with specific beliefs have organizational goals and mobilization logics that diverge significantly from secular political movements. Furthermore, some have targeted local Canadian governments, their political identity and focus having long since shifted to the very land beneath their feet.

This structural fragmentation prevents them from forming any cohesive, actionable political platform. While seemingly united, they are in reality merely a brief intersection of different trajectories, and after the commotion subsides, they continue to go their separate ways.

The point that struck me most during these events is precisely what my friends in my circle have mentioned: "Why are you talking about the ideal of a democratic China when you know nothing?"

As someone who focuses on practical governance, this exposes a profound problem: the extreme complexity of governance is severely underestimated by the cheapness of slogans. Governance is an extremely complex and systematic undertaking, encompassing economic development, people's livelihoods, national defense, and technological innovation. It requires long-term strategic planning (such as the Five-Year Plan), strong social mobilization capabilities, and efficient resource allocation mechanisms. These are concrete, pragmatic, and challenging issues.

However, in the square, "democracy" is often simplified into a panacea, a self-evident "political correctness." While people are eager to express their "I want democracy," few can clearly answer a series of truly crucial technical questions: "What kind of democratic system do we want?" "How can it adapt to China's history, culture, and complex national conditions?" "How can we ensure that the economy does not stall and society does not fall into disorder during the transition?"

When ideals lack well-thought-out solutions, they easily degenerate into emotional venting and a ritual of identity building. Such expressions serve more to comfort oneself than to truly propose a feasible governance blueprint aimed at solving real problems.

The commotion in Toronto's square undoubtedly reflects the free expression of Western society, but it also exposes its inherent efficiency dilemmas and governance challenges. The development of a vast nation cannot rely on endless street debates and conflicting interest groups. On the contrary, it requires a stable leadership core capable of building consensus, transcending factional disputes, and possessing a long-term vision.
When ideals become empty slogans, order and development themselves become the most pragmatic and reliable answers.