The Illusion of Capital and the Reality of Communism: Their Trap

He earned his fortune from the free world—and lost it to the system.

A few days ago, I took a taxi. The driver was in his fifties, clean clothes, articulate, quite talkative throughout the ride. Later I learned he used to be in foreign trade, moved from inland to coastal cities when young, making money from exporting hardware and plastic parts. Business was good back then—one order could earn him half a year's salary for others. With tax refunds easing and exchange rates stabilizing, he made tens of millions over several years.

He said those years were too comfortable. Foreign buyers gave orders, banks provided letters of credit, he shuttled between Yiwu and Ningbo, slept little but money came fast. I asked what happened later. He sighed and said he stopped doing it, feeling relying on foreigners was too unstable. At first I thought he was forced out, but he smiled and said no, it was his own decision.

He said an official classmate advised him to return and do construction, saying the country was building infrastructure, with lots of policy support, money more stable, no need to depend on foreign faces. He thought it made sense. So he sold his trading company, took cash back to the provincial capital, did bidding, built factories, repaired roads, provided upfront funding. It went smoothly at first, local governments were quite supportive, officials helped out. He said he felt particularly secure then, finally feeling like he'd become "part of the nation."

Until that classmate got in trouble, projects stopped, payments couldn't be settled. Local finances had no money, everyone could delay, no one dared to make decisions. Unpaid debts weren't commercial disputes but political issues. He ran around for two years, got nothing back. House mortgaged, factory collapsed, only debts remained. Now he drives for ride-hailing, no resentment in his tone, just saying: "No choice, the country's having a hard time too."

I asked if he regretted it. He said no, who could have known? Foreign trade relied on foreigners, foreigners caused the pandemic to hurt us, stopping was right. In that moment I didn't respond, just suddenly understood he needed this explanation to keep living. Because admitting the problem was with the system would mean his whole life was wrong. Continuing to believe external forces ruined everything was easier for him. This explanation preserved dignity and made failure seem reasonable.

He actually had many other choices. Back then he had money, resources, could have continued foreign trade, invested in Vietnam, Malaysia, Thailand, or not invested but maintained cash flow. No one stopped him. He just didn't dare. He felt staying away from the country was unsafe, relying on markets too difficult, relationships more stable. So he exchanged order risks for official risks, cold market risks for hot political risks. Seemingly safer, actually more deadly.

Back then he hadn't realized that his past profits weren't due to ability but because America's globalization needed an obedient processing country. China betrayed the Soviet Union at the Cold War's end, pretending to integrate into the free world. America mistakenly thought China would change, so invested orders, capital, and markets. That was globalization's small dividend to China. This former boss just happened to stand at the right time and place, got swept into this transaction, received rewards, but thought he won through skill.

Later returning inland for construction, relying on relationships, classmates, "national projects are more stable"—that was his real ability. Earlier profits came from timing, later losses from his own skills. This logic is cruel but accurately uncomfortable.

And such stories definitely aren't just his. These years, foreign trade, real estate, private enterprises, contractors—too many like him. When profiting they all thought it was ability, when losing they discovered it was the system. Different is, their endings no one wants to write, no one can write. Everyone understands writing them would seem too much like fables, and China's media constraints don't allow it.

The money he lost bought the illusion that "the country won't cheat its own people." Lost everything, the illusion remains, even stronger. Because that's the only thing he can believe. He says foreigners caused the pandemic, says the country's having a hard time, says we're all the same. When saying these, his voice is calm, like explaining for others, like explaining for himself.

I didn't refute. Rain outside, car stopped at red light, I suddenly thought of a phrase: He wasn't deceived, he volunteered. Heaven's path he wouldn't take, hell's door he barged into. Every step he took was logical and reasonable, just the logic he chose was itself a trap.

Like most Chinese, he never figured out the difference between "capital" and "communism" his whole life—his fate itself is the illusion where both intersect.