In Memory of Tiananmen Square Massacre

In Memory of Tiananmen Square Massacre

(2016-06-04 16:45:10) 下一个

Another June 4th, another year of ignorance and forgetting. I don't know how many people still remember that bloody night of massacre, but I just want to use my own story to recall this dark page in my country's history. For the good conscious and compassion we have lost for a long time. This is not an open page on my blog and I will only repost it on the anniversary day every year, because I don't want to use my experience to evoke hatress. It shall be narrated for the goodness and peace. Let us pray, and learn our lessons from the past, and hope, for our future.

--TZ

In Memory of Tiananmen Square Massacre

It was the best of times, It was the worst of times, It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness. it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of discredulity. it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness. it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. We had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to the heaven, we were all going direct to the other way.

And yes, this was the year of 1989 in China, when all the passion, sadness, patriotism, anger, disillusion and chaos were tangled together, burned, soaked in blood, buried, then the remains of our memory had been flushed away by the torrent of time. It seems that there is nothing left, after all we are only dust of history. However, as some insignificant people witnessed that big event, still remembering the fire in the dark night, listening to the cry from the remote unknown places, sometimes we wake up from our nightmares, haunted by the bitterness hiding at the bottom of our heart, then it might be necessary to call up our conscience and sensitivity, to speak out, to tell the story happened so many years ago.

In 1989 I was only a high school student. It was April 15, when the former Communist Party Head Secretary Hu Yaobang died of heart attack, thousands of university students swarmed to the Tienanmen Square to mourn the democratic reformer. Finally, the dissatisfy to the government burst out and became a protest, then developed to a massive fast of the students.

In that days the university students were treasures of this country. They were the small group of lucky people chosen from a dozen competitors, passed countless tests and exams, then had the access to the university, where they not only learned knowledge, but also opened their eyes to the whole world, learned how to think, and started to think about the future of their country. In one word, they were special. They were called the elite of China. Suddenly this group of students became the center of the world. They were yelling to the whole country, to against corruption and dictating, and to fight for a better future of our country.

I was not in the university at that time, but I was one of the earliest high school students who went to the Tienanmen Square. I was glad to think that I was, or at least was trying to be one of the elite democratic warriors. It was the late April, when the Square was occupied by the students in fast, I went there in the morning, with camera on my shoulder. The students were all enclosed by temporary fences in an area as big as a soccer playground as the campus, at the entrance there was a student working as the guard. He stopped me, and I noticed he was slim and tall, wearing neat Chinese Zhong-shan suit with a Beijing University Badge on his chest. He asked me politely whether I was a university student and I said no, but I was a high school student. He seemed excited and amazed, asked me if the high school students were standing up to join them. I told him: "not yet, but if you let me in and take pictures I will show them to my classmates, then the high school students will join you university pioneers." He smiled and asked for my student card, I showed my card to him. Without another word he opened the entrance and moved aside. The protesters' campus was full of tents, mattresses and services booths, divided by narrow path. Students from different universities and colleges stayed in their own designated areas, either lying down or sitting. It was early in the morning, most of them were still sleeping, with very thin quilts on the top, in the chilly breeze of mid spring, some of them looked very weak. I knew that many of them were on a fast protest and hadn't eaten anything for days. I had three rolls of films with me and took as many pictures as I could. When I left the square, I heard the radio overhead speaking to the crowd: "I have a good news for everyone: the high school students are going to join us! ... ..."

 

Two days later the high school students really joined the protest, of course not because of my pictures. My pictures only had a impact on my own classmates but not on the whole city. However, not only the students, teachers, business men, workers, even the policemen and government officials joined the big protest. People were yelling for their belief, crying for the fainting hungry students, cheering to strangers for the comradeship they had in the protest. It was the biggest chaos ever happened since the culture revolution. It was also a safest time in many years. Citizens were self-disciplined, there was no robbery, no theft, even little argument on the street, because our people were obsessed by our political idealism.

The government sent troop in the city on May 23rd, but it was blocked by the angry citizens. Hundreds of tanks and armored vehicles stayed outside the city, unable to move an inch forward. On May 29th there were rumors that the government would air drop nine divisions into the city, over a million citizens stayed out their home, anxiously guarded on their streets, looking upward into the dark sky. I was one of them.

That was a false alarm. The troop didn't take any action until June 4th. It was an unforgettable night. I was lucky not on the Square, when hundreds of tanks, thousands of soldiers surrounded the unarmed students, fired and crashed their bodies under their iron caterpillars, but I did see it, because my home was on the top of a high rise building on the main Chang-an Street, where the troops marched into the city. The citizens used dozens of public buses in the middle of the road, trying to stop the tanks, but the tanks just run into the buses, the iron monsters crushed the buses and forwarded, left a sea of fire on the street. Two of the military vehicles were disabled by the fire, one was a tank and another one was a truck. The truck was loaded with military medications. Thousands of ampules exploded under the high temperature, those cracks resembling the sound of gun shot. It mixed with the real gun shot from far away, the shot continued for the whole night. From the shot of machine guns I knew the troops were slaughtering on the Square, leaving thousands of dead students; soldiers were running in every minor streets in the city, searching protesters, chasing them, and sending their directly to the hell. A few protesters were still fighting back with bricks, stones, rods and gasoline bottles. Some soldiers were killed, they would later be denominated as republic heroes and commemorated forever, while the thousands of slaughtered students and citizens mourned by their families, unnamed, and then forgotten as the time passed by, only leaving hatreds to the survivors. The buses and military vehicles were burning downstairs, there was also some burning from remote places, shining upon upwards, casting a blood red in the dark sky. What did we see from the blood color?

The government imposed a martial law to the city after June 4th, and classes resumed on June 7th in the schools. I was back to my classmates. The first class happened to be political class. Usually we studied Marxianism, and I was the student representative of the class. Before the class my teacher found me and asked me what we should do, I said I will listen to you. Then she showed me a cassatte copy of the Sound of America. At that time this was strictly banned. We managed to find a recorder from the teacher's office, placed it in the front of the classroom, and I became the temporary D-J of the class. I told the class that at the beginning we should mourn for the dead for three minutes, then all the students and teacher stood up, the class was in a dead silence. Three minutes later I inserted the cassette into the recorder and played. The Sound of America told us many truth about the night in June 4th, that many innocent people were killed, but not like the government said, they were escorted home; that their bodies were burned and buried in some secret place, that the new Head Secretary of the Communist Party were also under house arrest, because he insisted to used peaceful method the resolve the crisis. Many girls crouched on their table and burst into tears, the boys were clenching their teeth and fists. After the class some of the students rushed to the playground, yanked the national flag down and made a speech in the playground. The students were stimulated to excitement. One of the girls went home and told this story to her father at dinner, her father happened to be the chief officer of Beijing Police Station, he reported to the government immediately. If this happened before the military control it was only a common event, but under the military law it was a typical anti-revolutionary activity, and this was the class later come to be known as the famous or infamous "National Flag Event" in Beijing.

 

Three days later the Chinese National Security Bureau sent two agents to the school, and the teacher, the student who yanked the national flag and I were all under interrogation. I won't have any comment for these interrogated days, the only memory I want to recall is that we were fighting, trying to protect the teacher, who took all the responsibility to the event. The agents were annoyed by our in-cooperation and finally slammed the table in front of me, and I slammed back to him.

Many years passed, and this bitter memory has become a mock in my mind. Only the passion and patriotism are still trying to reverberate me from inside. People had different endings after 1989: My teacher, who used to be the chief politics teacher and team leader in my school, was sent to teach geography instead, which she knows nothing. The student who dragged the flag down was about to go to the US for university study, this event postponed him for several years, but finally he got the life he wanted. I was sentenced the title of "anti-revolutionary student leader" to my profile, in China in 1989 this meant you would have it with you probably for your whole life, when every business, every school was controlled by the government, this political scar will trouble you for the whole life. Fortunately, thanks to my dear school and head master, my name was cleared with an innocent record on my profile. Actually I doubt our teacher was also protected by our school, she should feel lucky that she could still work as a teacher.

In 1992 there was a big celebration in my school for her 66 anniversary. I went there. From far away I saw my teacher waving at me. Smiling at each other, I heard she had already went back to her political teacher's position, reinstated as the team leader and chief teacher, back to the classroom, to teach the students what real democracy was. The world was changing, the Prime Minister who ordered the troop to fire now has stepped down, people are talking about freedom everywhere, but the corruption and dictating haven't got better. The massacre has become a faint memory in some people's mind. We are forgetting, but also learning. Someone told me that the Chinese people need democracy and freedom, we have to fight, I said yes. Someone told me that our country need development, we can't sacrifice our economy and send our country to chaos again, I also said yes. Maybe we have been fighting so many years and don't really realize what is most important to us, maybe after so many years we suddenly figure out that we have gone back a circle to the same spot many years ago, maybe things are changing silently without our notice, maybe we are also changing and get more and more tolerating and numb, or maybe, for the history, there shouldn't be so many chances for us to say "maybe".

 

TZ

April, 2008

 

貓眼看六#四 – 我的回憶

貓貓也想起六#四來了。

六#四的時候，我還是小貓。

記得那時上高中，我大概是第一個上天安門廣場拍照的中學生了。五月初，大學生們剛開始絕食，我就曠了課，背著相機去廣場了。那時候的天安門廣場，組織得很好。紀念碑下是胡耀邦的巨幅畫像，絕食學生被帆布牆隔離起來，入口處有大學生把守，進入要察看證件。記得我把學生證給守門的人看後，一個高自聯的拉著我的手，好像很激動地問：中學生也起來了麼？我說沒有，不過看了我的照片，中學生就要起來了。他就放我進去了。我那時候拍的照片，可惜一張也沒有帶來，否則可以出一個冊子。在我離開廣場的時候，聽到廣場的大喇叭說：報告大家一個好消息，中學生們也行動起來了…

中學生果然行動起來了，當然不是因為看了我的照片。兩天后，不僅學生，工人、商販、機關職員，北京城的上上下下都融入了這場風暴。大家放下手中的工作和學習，結成幾十人到幾百人的隊伍去遊行，去示威，去支持面臨死亡的大學生。只記得當時很興奮，很忘情，一點也不覺得累。每個人都瘋狂的揮舞著雙臂，每個人都互相問候。那是北京人最激動地一個時期，但卻是人際關係最友善的時候；那是北京最混亂的時刻，但也是治安最好的時候。後來，當中國足球隊沖出亞洲的時候，當北京取得奧運會舉辦權的時候，這種情景都再沒有出現過。很多年後，我唯一又看到過的類似景象，大概是911後的美國。

5月27日，街上紛紛傳說，當晚中共會在中南海和長安街空降9個師，以鎮壓群眾。人們又紛紛拿起濕毛巾，彙聚到廣場和主要馬路保衛城市。我的父母都是忠厚老實的職工，這次出人意料的沒有阻攔我，讓我再一次走入茫茫夜色，投入到沸騰的人海中...

再後面就是那個難忘的6.4之夜了。

我的家就在長安街邊上的一座高樓頂層，放眼望去，從大北窯到軍事博物館，整個長安街一覽無餘。每到節日放焰火，或者是天安門的閱兵式，這裏都是絕好的包廂。這次，他又一次讓我有幸成了歷史的見證。我看到了第一輛坦克駛入北京，碾過作路障用的公共汽車，樓下頓時成了火海。第二天，我又看到遭到同樣命運的軍車，他們被憤怒的群眾燒毀，成了孩子們爬上爬下的玩具。我聽到了徹夜不斷的槍聲，我知道，槍聲裏，很多人會失去生命，整個城市將由嘈雜變成死一般的寂靜，這種寂靜在幾個月後才逐漸恢復生氣。我沒有看見一具屍體，但是我相信，他們是存在的：男人的，女人的，學生的，士兵的。天真的革命熱情，以及對政府的無比忠誠，都被淹沒在血泊中了，從這的血色中，我們又看到了什麼？

學校是6月7日複的課，第一節課就是政治，我那時候正好是政治課代表。平時也就是收收作業點點名的雜工，這一次上課前，老師突然問我，今天的課講什麼？我說您是老師，聽您的。老師說，我這裏正好有一位同學錄的美國之音，擺好答錄機，大家聽吧。我說好。

上課了，這節課是由我主持的，我先講了一些自己對實事的看法，然後領大家默哀，然後是放美國之音，兩節課，很多女生都哭了，有的男生沖到了操場，把國旗扯下來，後來又升成了半旗。這個舉動在1星期前也許是愛國，現在就成了政治事件了。也恰好一個女生的父親是北京市的公安局長，“恰好”她父親又知道了這件事，這就是當年北京市教育界有名的“降旗事件”。

後來，錄音的，降國旗的，提供答錄機的，政治老師，還有我，都被國家安全局的人審訊了，整整三天。想想那時真是很年輕，什麼都不怕，我們居然輕描淡寫，避重就輕，估計上面不會太為難學生，就想把老師保住。直到後來安全局的人沖我拍了桌子，我也沖他拍了桌子。

後來聽說，我的檔案上寫著包庇XXX，經過全校老師的力保，抹掉了。後來，學校還把市三好學生的名額給了我。可惜，畢業這麼多年了，一直沒有機會去報答母校，估計以後也不會有了。

那個降旗的同學，寫了很多很多的檢查，畢業以後考上了大學，現在應該做父親了吧，不知道他在孩子長大後，會不會講起自己年輕時的經歷？

那個錄音的同學，本來聽說是7月份就要到美國上學的，這件事，讓他的出國推遲了好幾年。

最慘的還是政治老師，本來是教研室主任，年級組長，享受知識份子補助津貼，被下放到校內的一個不知什麼角落去反省。不過我們見了她還是叫范老師，其他老師也仍然叫她范主任。幾年以後---我已經在大學裏面了---校慶的時候，我們又見面了，遠遠的，見了我就招手，閒聊起來，她又回到政治教研室了，仍然是主任，仍然是年級組長。我們誰也沒有提到當年的事，往事如歌，都變成了驀然回首時的微微一笑。

上大學了，聽來自五湖四海的同學們講六*四，很多小城市好像沒有受到衝擊，人們的生活仍舊平常，有的地方亂起來了，搶劫和殺人立刻就上升了。對北京的人們，對我的激動，人們表現的更多的是驚訝和不理解。這使我多了幾分沮喪，也更加慶倖，自己能夠有這樣一份珍貴的回憶。

很多年過去了，當年的朋友們，現在還好吧？下令在天安門開槍的人，已經從委員長的位置下退下來，現在是垂垂老者了。領導學生、工人運動的人，有的在美國繼續他們的事業，不過，再也不是振臂一呼應者雲集了。只有從當年走過的普通的人們，還在以自己的方式生存，歲月將過去的酸甜苦辣，統統釀成了淳厚的美酒。痛飲之餘，不禁會作出很多的回憶與猜想。直到今天，我們仍然為六*四的是與非爭論。有人說，中國需要穩定，內亂只能讓我們倒退，我說對；有人說，中國需要民主，官僚和腐敗必須消滅，我說也對。也許，六*四的意義不僅僅是推動了中國社會發展的一場政治風波，它更教會了國人怎樣以務實的心態看待問題；也許，這些愚弄和殘殺人民的人遲早會被釘上歷史的恥辱柱；也許，六*四的初衷是美好的，只是到後來，發展成為錯誤的方式（我指的是民眾的天真），或者方式也是正確的，只是選擇了錯誤的年代；也許六*四發生在今天，這場運動的成功機會會更大一些，方式也會更加成熟；也許在今天這樣的環境下，六*四遲早會再次發生；也許不管怎樣，中國都會義無反顧的發展下去。或許，對於歷史，根本就沒有“也許”可言。

 

 

-- 好貓如詩

附：好貓、魯者關於本文的聯詩

 

送好貓詩一首 by魯者

 

又愛美女又愛錢
最愛網上扯扯閑
勸兄脫去書生皮
跟從魯者笑一番
史上愚賢何必論
六四平反看百年
擺出陳年糊塗酒
你我濁世作神仙

 

-- 魯者

 

 

 

謝魯者！和一首

 

 

雲在長河月在天，

最愛吟詠唱花間。

百世生涯原是夢，

賣與書家換酒錢。

且持江海灌百川，

不圖狂醉只弄閑。

回頭笑看風起處，

管他恩怨與忠奸。

 

-- 好貓如詩

 

 

 

謝好貓！魯者再和一首


男兒亂世覓封侯
吳鉤三尺傳春秋
偉人當年農家子
聖人教書飯也愁
誰說你我不自由
時運來時踏雲頭
兄有高才吾有智
風雨聲中一聲吼 (哈哈 見笑了)

 

-- 魯者

 

 

謝魯者！你喝我也喝

 

 

昨夜東風上小樓

風吹好景到西洲

魯者忠言猶在耳

劍氣如霜意未休

千古英雄千古夢

萬里江山萬里愁

唱罷方知夜氣涼

長天如水月如鉤

 

-- 好貓如詩