In recent developments in Chinese society, there has been recent doubts as to the viability and historical credit of a Chinese nation. These charges stem from foreign ideology and interests. The Chinese situation as a nation is viable, through its history and into its future. It is only the dark present that casts doubt. The failures of the Xinhai Revolution to create a stable European styled Republic do not defeat its purpose. The loss of the Chinese provinces of Mongolia and Tibet do not discredit the idea. 

	With the imposition of European thought on the global mind-set the institution of the Nation should be seen as a recent development in the world. The same is true for the ethnic family. Both were developed within the last two-hundred years after revolutions, in the British Colonies that became America, and in France. That by the end of the 18th century the political paradigm shifted from a nation whose government was dictated by the whims of a royal family who, sequestered away from the general populace, were all together irrelevant to the greater communal-familial relations that actively determined the look, sound, and type the population assumed as part of an ethnic or race family. And it is true that for the most part, this came to exist in Europe during the evening hours of the 18th century, when liberal nationalist philosophy imparted upon the peoples of Europe a unity of being, and the eventual enforcement of a single image, a single ethos, a singly mythology, and a single common government. This was the presumption of and execution of the bourgeoisie class.

	As Europe spread itself out over the world, it came into contact with other peoples, and Europe saw and interpreted the civic relationships of the peoples in these new countries as being barbarian and without nation, not following what was the conventional rules of the European nation-state and that thus these people must be primitive. These people must lack a nation, and lacking the idea of nation they could have the European ideology imposed upon them. From Africa to Asia they imposed their political life upon the others, suppressing the existing political and civic relations of the people there with their own European political and civic values. If taken as truth, that China has not really existed as an entity until perhaps the Xinhai Revolution, or that it has never existed except as myth. But no, China has existed outside of this identity, that it was without the national family. And so, being a collage of different peoples under a single authority, that it was very much like that of the old European feudal state still; which while it was a feudal state, was very much not as Europe saw in it.

	But this assumption is incorrect, and dangerously wrong. For the intellectuals of our days to believe it, and for our people to fall into the same trap, does the Chinese family a disservice by allowing ourselves to become puzzled by the enforcement of this doctrine seemingly imposed upon us. The concept, the idea of the national family, is very much a facet of the Chinese political life. That We do not need to, as a family of families, to go out and redefine our people as a single species as the peoples of Europe did in the 18th century. We have had their institution in China since time immemorial.

	Expansion on this idea is required, to formalize the existing institution as such and to support that which has been said by Sun-Yat Sen on this matter. Before either are delved into however, it is important clarity is given to some terminology.

	The ethnic or the race family is used to define a broad community of people whose language and customs differ from that of those nearest to them. Or in the most striking circumstances their physical appearance is at contrast with those of others. The Europeans have a distinct difference between the peoples of Africa and of Asia, and thus by physical difference we are members of three different families. But within each there are the particular differences that cut clearer differences between one or the other; as the French to the German or the Englishman. As such within that of Asia is the differences between the Han and the Cantonese to the Hmong. By applying European rules of the nation, it is the difference between being a Frenchman and a German that dictates that either should have a state for reasons as simple as language or of difference of religious practice; there is no clear cut instance in China where this has been true in the past few centuries.

	To speak of Political and Civic life is to draw from Marxist critique. Political life and institution is that devoted to the operation of the state and one's interaction there-in. To speak of Civic life or Civic institution is to speak of the life of an individual as an individual; as he is a Buddhist or a Taoist, whether he speaks Mandarin or Cantonese. The demands of the political institutions of Europe deem it fit that the European state subsumes the dependence of the Civic Life into the political institution, making it a requirement to have privileges within the family that the individual assume the identity of the subsumed Civic Life as part of the Political Life and institution. There is only one other state where this is not the case, and it is the United States.
	
	We now move on. In doing so I recommend that, as the conditions of China evolve, that attempts to impress upon it a singular ethnic or racial family be wholly drowned like the workman extinguishing his flame. Any attempt to raise one people over another must be extinguished in its primitive existence as a young ideology before it takes to a great flame and ignites the countryside, and burning the foundation of what has been the historical China. The idea of Civil-subsuming political state of the European ethno-family state must be held at arm's length from China. If it were introduced, it is to be made a sacrifice to security and destroyed.

	And this shall be done with the re-proposal of what has been called the Zhonghua Minzu (Chinese State), the ideal of the National Family (Guojiaa Minzu). At odds with the Ethnic or the Race Family, the National Family is a broad idea, uniting all within itself. The National Family decrees that those peoples who preside in the area belonging to the state are members of its family no matter who they may be. The persons living in its territory shall have in their entitlement the full benefits of its family without differentiation between what family they may belong. The state shall show no preference to one ethnicity or another, and as in any liberated society their Civil Life shall be independent of the state, and that the state shall dissolve from itself the means by which is makes distinctions, to be blind to it so that it may treat all its families as one of the same.

	For in any ideal political environment, the political institutions will not go to the field of civil life and rip up the budding flowers of different colors to repaint it anew with one wide brush, turning one field of a multitude of color into that of a single homogeneous color. This destroys harmony, and weakens only the health of the community.

	We see this field of a thousand colors and a thousand flowers and we call it China.

	What is the basis on which this exists? Is it something to be enforced by force of arms as the French to their brethren in the construction of the French state? Hardly, for we already own such an idea. We have already Zhonghua Minzu.

	Zhonghua Minzu flows as water from a spring in China's history. Where much of the world was competing primitive estates China drew up into itself a strong and concise state identity so powerful it has come to define itself yet today in these troubled times. It is a mode sought to be emulated and reformed for a modern times; but not so distant from the present as many others have sought basis in their own past. From the past we adopted the name of our nation from the Dynasty of Qin, construction the national feudal framework of China and the Han who constructed its popular identity. From either they inspired the disparate communities of China to think of themselves first as Chinese, and lastly by their county or tribe. They became simply inspired by the force and will of the political center to become members of the Chinese Family, or later of the Han family.

	It is from this ideological framework the idea of China has persisted on, interrupted sparingly and briefly before being assumed again. It was from this that the Manchurians of the Qing court integrated themselves into the Chinese family. And it can be said from this that they sought to be as China's equals as a family that is a member to the greater family; as much as they were its rulers all the same. Our definition of being a people as a people is such that no single element needs to be imposed or for a forced superiority made over the other, for it is recognized in the historical spirit of the nation that we are all members of the nation, of its state.

	Unity can not be had in forcing upon our brothers what they are not, but to advance forward as a united whole under the same banner. To move ahead not under five races as supposed by the Qing court, but as the multitudinous thousands, to meet the demands of Sun-Yat Sen to unite all the peoples of China, for that is our state.

On Minzu
Hou Tsai Tang, 1941

[hr]

[h1]China[/h1]
[h2]Tianjin[/h2]
[h3]May 15th, 1960[/h3]

	The waves sounded against the shore. Crested, white egrets roamed along the white sandy beaches probing their long beaks into the wet sand on their search for crabs. It was early in the morning still and a faint orange glow shone from the dark ocean waters as Hou walked out onto the wooden deck off the side of his house. Distant fishing boats could be seen prowling the waters beyond the clear range of view, but their sails were clear against the misty cloudy easterly sky. A few among them from their silhouettes looked to be motorized. They were headed far out to sea, that much Hou could see as he walked to the railing with a cup of tea held in one hand, and a kettle in another. The boats weren't yet plying the waves parallel to the shore, so they were still fanning out to seek their spots.

	Hou took a deep breath of the cool morning air, smelling the salt and the strong aroma of the tea as he rose it to his lips and took a delicate sip. It was still hot as it hit his lips and he lowered the small china cup at the first drop.

	He turned on his heels, and placed the kettle on a small end table a few steps away between two wicker chairs. With the kettle down he eased into a chair and sat waiting in the still morning air, listening to the heart beat of the sea. After a moment's silence, the door to the house opened, Hou turned to watch Hou Ju step out into the cold sea air, holding a robe closed over her day time dress. She smiled as their eyes met and with the warm confidence of having partook in this ritual many times took her seat, leaning to the side as she folded her legs the other, a cup of tea held gently in her own hands.

	The two say in an ancient meditative silence as they watched the egrets down below probe the sand for treasures. Every so many minutes, one would force one up from its burrow and toss it up into the air, devouring the struggling and fighting crustacean in one throw. In time the gulls and other sea birds joined them and after some jostling the competing birds managed to sort out the dispute for beach front ground. The harmony of the scene was broken only by a distant ship's horns as the morning drew on later. A guard had stepped out, setting down next to the tea a small wooden basket of dimsum dumplings before disappearing.

	The men who kept guard over Hou and his home had become almost invisible to the leader. Their presence interwoven with the garden scenery and as long-staying guests at times when in the home. Hou Tsai Tang's home itself wasn't particularly large, not a mansion as the past emperors, presidents, or warlords had called home. He had little purpose of a home early on his life, being a migratory laborer in his youths after leaving home and his father's fishing practice; both to avoid war and take advantage of work opportunity made by it. But that too had been traded for an apartment in Hong Kong, then the tents and caves of military service.

	When he had finally ascended to command of the ship of state of China he had foregone any options in larger homes in pristine mountain or forest environments, many of which were quickly moth balled or abandoned by his decree. He had instead chose to in essence return home, to the outskirts of Tianjin. And in no mansion, but a country home which he had built on and expanded over the years. Attempts against his life had only called for further growth with the addition of accommodation for security and the home began to threaten to turn into a compound before he stopped and set to living quietly enough for him to blow under radar. Many large parts of the year turned into him hiding out at his very residence as empty motorcades and trains traveled China ostensibly ferrying him, but being dead empty.

	The couple nibbled on the dumplings in comfortable silence until it was empty. “What is the plan for the day?” Ju asked, the basket empty.

	“No one has told me I need to be anywhere for anything.” Hou said, “Unless they call. The garden may need work.”

	“Should I help?” asked Ju.

	“You don't need my permission.” Hou turned, with a small smile, “Come if you want.”

	“It looks like it might be a warm afternoon, I may bring the canaries' cage out so they can get fresh air.” he added.

	“They would like that very much.” Ju said with a relaxed smile. “I should step in and warm up last night's rice, have an actual breakfast today.”

	“That would be nice.” Hou approved with a relaxed nod.

	Smiling, Ju rose to her feat and headed back in, leaving Hou alone on the deck.

	The cold did not bother him much. Though he had known people who went out of their way to keep their world a passionate tempest of furnace heat after the Revolution, Hou's approach to the chill air was to become more comfortable with it. On the cool wet mornings of the coast he reminded himself that in his years in leadership and as a commander he had chattered his teeth in worse weather. That he had known winters that froze the fingers off men's hands. Today he had his comforts, consistently warm tea, a home, and the option to heat it.

	He took a sip of the tea, and lingered on the deck some more watching the birds.

[hr]

	The canaries murmured and chirped contently as they were hung up on the branch of a flowering plum tree in the middle of the garden. Three in all inhabited a relatively large cage. As the cage settled on the branch the initial start given to the birds of their home in motion subsided to a comfortable ease as they took in the spring under the plum blossoms.

	Hou's garden was an off-center space, built off the side of the old house he had taken as his own. Added as one of those projects through the years it had grown into a modest space with the plum tree at its center. Encircled by a covered walk way along opposite sides, a covered porch closest to the house, and a simple fence and moon gate opposite it was near to the size of his living room and the branches of the flowering fruit tree had grown since before Hou's residence to nearly encompass the majority of the garden space helping to shade the space with its reaching branches.

	A gravel pathway encircled the tree, and without any clear sort of pattern meandered into broken winding spokes away. Stands of bamboo and numerous islands of peonies, orchids, and Chrysanthemums dotted the scene among islands of rocks that had been allowed to be covered with moss. Even some spaces were let to wildly grow grass which grew long.

	Throwing an old rug onto the ground Hou dropped to his knees and deftly his hands began the work of pulling out the small weeds from between the stones around an island of China Roses. Early season bees were hovering near the open blooms of the all-seasons flowering shrubs and their low and soft humming set itself against the not-to-distant sounds of the ocean's rhythm.

	Gardening was not something he always had done. While he had memories of sometimes helping his mother in her's, it had not been a habit he picked up until later in his life. The joy of gardening had come with learning its meditative practice. While he leaned over, pulling up weeds or wandering the flowers he could detach himself from the world for a moment and to recenter. Or, if need be: to mull over decisions that needed to be made.

	“Comrade.” a hesitant voice said nearby.

	Hou looked up to see the guard standing in the shade of the covered walkway. He held under his arms a small piece of paper. “A message came in just now, from Beijing.” the soldier said, holding out the piece of paper.

	Hou reached out with a dirty hand and took the paper, scanning the typed print he sighed and folded up the message. Xiogang Wen had caught wind of developments towards intervention in Russia. “Tell comrade Wen I'll have it in the schedule next available Politburo meeting. Tell him it's not important right now. Tell him I'm waiting for developments.”

	The soldier bowed and turning on his heels walked away. His heels clicking on the concrete on the walk itself. Hou sat up and rubbed his hands off against the breast of his shirt. With a resigned sigh he stood up from his spot and walked to his canaries, and stood watching them.

	[h2]North-western Xinjiang[/h2]
	[h3]Qoqek[/h3]
	
	The motorbike rumbled into town. It was an old job, from the revolution. It was painted a flat field green, though it may have once been that. Over time the paint had chipped and worn away from the fuel tank and seat and what wasn't painted had begun to ruse over. To compensate its owner had painted over the holes and even the rust with Rorschach blobs of an olive green. As a result the whole vehicle parades around a rough and unintentional camouflage pattern under a layer of fine brown an d white dust.

	To the sleepy border town of Qoqek the sound of the motor engine cut the stillness of the later afternoon air with the same smoothness of a hot knife in butter. There were no other engine sounds to compete with it and even the isolated military vehicles parked along the road-side of the main street were eerily quiet in this corner of China.

	A rain had just recently fell over the sea, and the packed earthen road was dark with freshly fallen rain. The buildings still dripped with rain water and even the civilians strolling the street looked to have been freshly whetted. The distant mountains far beyond the city's northern and southern horizon themselves appeared to be wet and darkened with rapidly moving spring rain clouds sprinkling the cold northern steppe.

	Chao and Guo came into the town, and pulled off to the side by a tea house. Looking around neither were impressed with the condition of Qoqek. Yet so close to the border it looked to not have the bustle of a border community. And to taunt them more were the presence of the military. The brooding uniformed presence of bored soldiers with their black fur caps, leaning on railings or against walls watching them with arms crossed. Both young men could feel the heavy gazes of a few dozen soldiers on them the moment they came into the city. They knew they couldn't have looked normal on the old motorbike and the heavy saddle bags that were slung off the back of the bike and on its dented side car.

	Feel perturbed at the suspicion they believed they attracted they exchanged quick glances. A sudden flash of doubt for their plan blossomed between them. They were forced to swallow the guilt of doing something so daring. But the two had reached a point of silent commitment. Between the two of them they knew without words that they would turn back only if they were arrested. Then they knew they could not do it.

	They went inside the tea house to consider their next move.

	The lighting inside the restaurant was dim and the floor dusty. But care had been taken to give it a homey air despite the lack of chairs. The two visitors glided between chest-high tables with a feeling they did not belong. A radio somewhere off in the corner played music on the radio, music that was being performed in Uyghur. Neither of the young men could understand it, and the sudden confrontation with songs in a foreign language reinforced the expression of being in a totally alien land.

	The two picked a table. “What do you say?” Guo asked, leaning onto his cross forearms as he looked around the tea house.

	A few locals had already been at tables when they arrived. They stood over plates of small simple cakes and kettles of tea but mostly kept to themselves. Some wore Muslim skull caps and thin wispy beards, others were clean shaven. They regarded the two new visitors with passive disinterest before returning to their tea and cakes.

	“We got this far.” Guo said restlessly.

	“How far is the border from here?” Chao asked.

	Guo rummaged in the chest pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded map. He unfolded it on the table and laid it out for his friend to see. In the dim moody lamp light of the house he ran his finger along the western Chinese border from Russia south until he came to the name of the town scribbled in small lettering far off on the border itself. “What do you know.” he said with a sarcastic smile, “We're right on top of it. I sure do wish we got a larger map of China!” he added in exasperation.

	Chao grumbled. Of course they couldn't have known they would have decided to leave the country. And not only that for him to set the challenge they push themselves all the way to Africa. At this distance, at the very edge of China he was beginning to wonder if they should just turn back. They were at the edge of the lake now, and the cool dark waters of the world was at their toes. Should he declare he was out? Guo would follow if he did, doubtlessly; he had less reason to go to Africa than he.

	“Well it hadn't occurred to me at the time.” he hissed. Guo rolled his eyes and folded the map up. 

	At that moment a waitress approached their table. She was an old woman with bags under her eyes and an uneven hobble.

	“Tea?” she asked expectantly.

	Chao nodded with a heavy sigh, “Yes, please.” Guo said he would like some tea too and the old woman hobbled off.

	“So what's the plan to cross?” Guo asked.

	“The army's here in force, obviously.” Chao moaned, “We can't just drive through I imagine. Not without some pass or permit.”

	“We could go around them. What's the chances they have the entire border watched?”

	“That might be our ticket. Might not hurt to stick around for a bit just to look around. We passed farm fields, vineyards on the way. Maybe we can get some work in before heading off. It'll give us time to look around, make the army less suspicious.”

	“Not like it hasn't been how we've worked before.” Guo groaned, “Alright.”

	The old lady returned to them with a tray holding an old tin tea pot and a few small chipped cups. She laid them on the table and asked the two of them, “Would there be anything else?”

	“Yes, do you know if anyone needs an extra hand?” Chao asked.

	The old lady raised an elbow and said mater-of-factly, “Oh, we might need some help.” she said in a surprised voice.

[h1]The Dragon Diaries[/h1]

Li Chao

[i]May 18th, 1960. Tuesday. Year of the Metal Rat[/i]

	We left Yusup Bahtar's and headed north-west to a town called Qoqek. The road is has it has been throughout this province. Drylands and spring grasslands in the high steppe. We see mountains in the distance. We intended to leave earlier that morning, and despite our lack of drinking to pass the evening the two of us slept in later than intended. We ended up leaving just before high-noon and came into the town later that afternoon. It rained briefly on our way in. But before we could pull over to throw on some rain cover it has passed and we were soon back on our way, drying as we went.

	The town as I can gather was once some kind of trading town back before the revolution. There's a wide sprawl to it but most of it feels empty and displaced. Perhaps like Yusup's son most of the sons went east or elsewhere to find work to do now that trade into and out of Russia ceased. There is in their place plenty soldiers.

	We stopped at a tea house in the middle of town and got our bearings set straight. Apart from trade the city is one of those few oasis settlements in Xinjiang that can farm, not from the benefit of any mountain springs but because it rains often here. The planting season is beginning and being short of hands the farmer coops need assistance. The farms here are mostly all owned through the city and they grow barley, wheat, and grapes which they use to make raisins. On this lead we contacted the cooperative and set us up with some employment. We intend to use the time to scout the border and not just find exactly where it is but how we might avoid the army.