In Memorium – 六四事件

17 Years Ago

I was five at the time of the Tiananmen Square Massacre. After seventeen years, China still bans the commemoration of this atrocity. This blog post is my own commemoration, for the students who lost their lives on that day.

At that time, I didn’t know what had happened in town and neither did I understand. I can barely remember the curfews summoned by the police in the days before and following June 4th. I don’t remember the horror stories people from downtown came to tell my uncle while we went for our summer evening strolls in the tranquil suburb. I do remember seeing PLA troops wielding AK47 machine guns stationed by a large white wall sealing off the main square, while driving to the airport. I do remember our neighbour, lying on his bed, showing off two bullets doctors had removed from his leg, after running from PLA gun fire, grinning away at his fortune of surviving. A lot has changed since then. A lot has changed in China, much of it due to the event (or so I heard). But history repeats itself in different forms.

I was six when the Berlin Wall fell.

In the years since 1989, I have seen pro-democracy protests in authoritarian countries (“peaceful revolutions”) played out all over the world. Some have been violently repressed by the government, like the uprising against Alexander Lukashenko in Belarus and the more recent Maoist revolt in Nepal against their King. Some have become known as a triumph of democracy over tyranny (albeit a short lasting one), such as the impeachment Slobodan Milosovic in Yugoslavia and the famous “Orange Revolution” of the Ukraine, led by Victor Yuchenko. Though the Orange Revolution seems to have triggered a wave of mini “Colour Revolutions” around the world, in which people wear coloured shirts to declare their discontent, few countries, including the Ukraine, have transitioned fully to Western democracy the way the masses have wanted. Revolutions have evolved, but politicians have not. Meanwhile, we are still reminded of how corrupt the Chinese State can be. Such was the case in December 2005, when the Communist Party killed six farmers in Dingzhou, Hebei, for the protest of their land being usurped for a state-owned powerplant development.

Two weeks ago marked the 40 year anniversary of Mao’s Cultural Revolution (May 16th, 1966), ending ten years later with the fall of the “Gang of Four” and Mao’s death. Needless to say, the Communist Party was intent on avoiding that commemoration too.

The revolution left millions dead, the lives of hundreds of millions destroyed and an entire “lost generation” who’s education and careers were permanently blighted. That generation, including my parents, is now in their 50s and have grown up with a deep sense of disillusionment. My parents were the lucky ones, able to at least get an education, albeit after Mao’s death.

Now out of China, my parents still keep books given to them by dissidents they met, who fled abroad because of June 4th. There are books with heavy anti-communist agendas, ones that document what happened on that day and ones with horrific images of tank-crushed bodies in the capital, captured by Western journalists. I flipped through some of them when I was small. Everytime I see another “peaceful revolution” I am reminded of those pictures. Then I remember seeing the Tank Man - and I think of that endearing human spirit that propels us forward, in the face of tyranny and against all odds.

永久和平 需要永久监视，
自由人民需要诚实的领导。