Just days before the second round of local elections in Macedonia, everyone here seems obsessed with one question: who will control the municipalities —and through them, control us? Power in this country flows like a pyramid: from Vodno (the president’s office) to Ilindenska (the government’s building), and down to every local council.
My local readers will forgive me, but there is nothing new —or inspiring— to say about this country of deep divisions, where politics revolve around tenders, egos, corruption, and control. Macedonia has long lost its vision; strategy has become either a forgotten word or a misused one. Since the end of socialism, we have been ruled by the wild laws of the market, by greed and dependency, and, of course, by our new colonial patrons.
And yet, somehow, Macedonia survives —miraculously— on a diet of loans and debts that keep us afloat but never let us advance. Still, amid this weariness, let me not forget that one tiny spark remains: the unexpected success of a young far-leftist who made it into the second round. Perhaps, just perhaps, it marks the beginning of something truly new.
You might expect me to write about Europe instead. Ah, please —spare me that illusion. The Europe we once admired has become a continent of deindustrialization, fear, and war rhetoric. Once Venus, now Mars, it lives by the logic of the military-industrial complex. And yet our presidential “sleeping beauty” still enjoys the charm of Macron’s shining palace, though it no longer glitters as before.
So why China? Why, amid so much local and European decay, do I turn my gaze to Beijing and its new five-year plan? Because, frankly, when everything around me looks like chaos, I need an oasis of development, order, harmony, and vision. I need to remind myself that another world is possible —that there still exists a place where people think beyond the next election, beyond the horizon of fear and populism.
Few in Macedonia noticed that the Fourth Plenary Session of the 20th Central Committee of the Communist Party of China was held recently. Yet its significance is immense: it laid the groundwork for China’s 15th Five-Year Plan, to be finalized in March 2026. For most Macedonians, the phrase “five-year plan” sounds like something from a dusty history book. For those of us who remember socialism, however, it carries a certain resonance and even nostalgia. Back then, the state —and more importantly, the working people themselves— planned their common future through socialist self-management. It was a collective exercise in imagination and responsibility. Yes, gross mistakes were made, and some were fatal. But at least there was a direction.
Today, election campaigns have replaced planning. Politics has turned into a carnival of empty promises —cheap wish lists disguised as (short-lived) visions.
In China, it is the opposite. Contrary to stereotypes, such plenums are not dull bureaucratic rituals. They are moments of creative intensity. A nation of 1.4 billion people gathers its mind to chart a course through an uncertain world. The Chinese five-year plan is not a relic of central planning —it is a living instrument of national vision, constantly adapted to changing realities.
This time, the key phrase is high-quality development. Gone is the obsession with growth at any cost. The new goal is self-reliant, sustainable, and technologically sovereign progress. In a world of sanctions, trade wars, and broken supply chains, China has learned that dependence on others is a vulnerability. So it invests heavily in artificial intelligence, biotechnology, green technologies, and domestic innovation. It is building resilience against a global system designed to keep it dependent.
The guiding concept is self-reliance and resilience. The logic is simple: no one should ever again be able to “turn off our electricity.”
Another central pillar is common prosperity. The phrase may sound old-fashioned, but its meaning is profound: social stability depends on fairness. Wealth must not accumulate in the hands of a few; rural and urban China must not live in different centuries. Poverty reduction alone is not enough —what matters is just distribution, dignity, and faith in a moral order.
And then comes my favorite part —the idea of Beautiful China. No, it’s not a tourist slogan. It’s a philosophy. It says that development must not destroy the earth that sustains it. It envisions a green civilization in which human progress and nature evolve together. It’s the same intuition as the Gaia concept— the recognition that humanity and the planet are one living organism.
“Beautiful China” means cleaner air, safer food, better health, less pollution, and more harmony. It means a civilization that measures its success not only by GDP but also by the quality of life and the balance between the human and natural worlds.
Now look at us in the Balkans. “High-quality development”? “Technological self-reliance”? “Common prosperity”? These sound like utopian fantasies from a distant planet. Here, in our wild capitalism of theft and privilege, the common good doesn’t even make it onto the ballot. Every promise ends where someone’s personal interest begins.
Compare the three capitals: Beijing, Brussels, and Skopje. China plans —with discipline, continuity, prudency, and foresight. Europe debates —mostly about sanctions and militarization. Macedonia improvises —drifting from one crisis to another, always surprised by things we should have seen coming.
Our so-called “national strategies” are written for donors, not for the people. They are documents without soul, without vision. We have forgotten that planning is not control —it is hope, structured into time. Without a plan, every disaster feels like fate, every problem like an accident.
Meanwhile, our capital Skopje is sinking into garbage, rats, and moral decay. And we still wait for the next mayor to fix it in 72 hours —after the elections, of course.
China, for all its problems, looks at 2030 and says: we would like to look like this and this. China is not perfect, it may not get everything right, but it dares to think in centuries. That alone is a kind of beauty.
Because “Beautiful China” is not only about the land —it is about believing that the future can be designed, not just survived.
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This article was produced by Globetrotter. Biljana Vankovska is a professor of political science and international relations at Ss. Cyril and Methodius University in Skopje, a member of the Transnational Foundation of Peace and Future Research (TFF) in Lund, Sweden, and the most influential public intellectual in Macedonia. She is a member of the No Cold War collective
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