Having lived and traveled in various Western nations, from the Caribbean to the United Kingdom, I’ve come to expect a certain background noise in urban life: the piercing cry of emergency vehicles, the soundtrack of societies grappling with crime.
In these countries—whether developed or still developing—rising crime and violence seem almost inevitable. Much of this, I believe, is culturally fed. One of the more troubling cultural exports of the West is what I term “murder music.” This genre, an offshoot of hip-hop, thrives on narratives of violence and criminality. In the USA and UK, it’s called drill; in the Caribbean, it’s Trini-bad dancehall. Not all tracks glorify crime, but far too many do—and far too many young minds absorb these messages as gospel.
Even countries once regarded as peaceful, like Sweden, are now wrestling with this phenomenon. And with it comes what I call “siren pollution”—a relentless auditory reminder of urban decay, heard every 15 to 20 minutes in major Western cities.
But in Beijing? Silence. Order. Safety.
The absence of this noise struck me. How could a city of this size, diversity, and complexity remain so calm? Curious, I began asking questions—not to officials, but to everyday people, especially non-natives living in Beijing and surrounding towns. My first question was straightforward: Why isn’t Beijing filled with sirens like other big cities? The most common response: “Because this is the most secure city in China.” Given the omnipresence of CCTV, I found that plausible. Yet, I’ve lived in cities like London—also blanketed with cameras—where crime persists.
Could it be censorship? Perhaps crimes happen but go unreported? So I asked another question: Have you ever seen or experienced a violent crime in Beijing? To my astonishment, the answer was a unanimous no. Many said they had only ever heard of one or two violent crimes in their lifetime—on the news, never in person. Even outside Beijing, incidents are rare.
This revelation humbled me. On my home island, violence is a weekly—sometimes daily—occurrence. Even our smallest communities are haunted by crime, and sirens are part of the everyday soundscape.
So what can we learn from Beijing—and by extension, China—about national security and social order?
1. Harmony Among Diversity: Different ethnic groups can co-exist with remarkable peace when there’s trust in public systems and shared national values.
2. Intentional Governance: When a government prioritizes the welfare of all citizens, especially the most vulnerable, it naturally reduces the societal tensions that often give rise to crime.
3. Questioning the Narrative: The Western media often paints China with a broad brush—strict, suppressive, alien. But being here, I’ve found a deeper truth: discipline is not the same as oppression, and peace is not the absence of freedom, but often its product.
A Parting Thought
The philosopher Laozi once wrote, “Govern a great nation as you would cook a small fish—gently.” China, despite its immense size and population, seems to follow this wisdom with meticulous attention to balance and stability. Perhaps the West—and small nations like my own—have something to learn from this approach.
COMING NEXT IN PART 2:
“Poverty and Peace: The Invisible Equation”
In the next installment, we’ll explore the connection between poverty and crime—a link that many societies acknowledge but few effectively address. We’ll examine how China’s poverty alleviation strategies have not only lifted millions out of hardship but also contributed to national stability. Most importantly, we’ll ask whether these policies can serve as a blueprint for small island nations like Saint Lucia, where poverty and crime continue to cast long shadows over development and security.
Stay tuned.