This cultural dissonance translates into shrill clashes on the streets of Beijing: luxurious shopping malls reminiscent of the richest parts of America or Europe, old men puttering about on venerable mopeds. China likes to present itself as modern and forward-looking, the emphasis being on the next generation. This is particularly palpable in the education sector: many American and British universities have set up their own subsidiaries in China, often with Chinese partners, and to many young Europeans it seems a smart move to have spent a term or two in China. However, despite the fact that the public sphere may have opened up recently in the economic sense, China appears intellectually backward compared with its competitors, the democracies of the Far East. 

The message China sends out to the West remains, to say the least, unfortunate: blocked websites, unanswered questions, visas not granted. These may appear trivial inconveniences for outsiders when compared with the countless Chinese who are still killed or enslaved by the communist system, but they breed resentment and suspicion in the West too. China's place in the world is that of a plagiariser rather than an innovator — the intellectual equivalent of the professionally faked designer bags you find in Beijing.

It is important not to forget that the battles Europeans fought in the 18th century to make way for modernity were not about stale ideas that can now be imported or exported at will. They are first and foremost an invitation to think freely. To contemplate Goya's Disasters of War also means daring to question Mao's genocidal legacy. One cannot toe the Party line while at the same time taking on board Kant's injunction: "Dare to know!" Beijing cannot keep a billion Chinese in the dark and respect Goethe's famous last words: "More light!"