Today is the 20th anniversary of the June 4th 1989 Tiananmen Square incident/massacre/crackdown/etc. The Western media and blogosphere is awash with segments, articles, and posts about the bloody end of the protests that dominated not just Beijing, but China and the rest of the watching world that summer. As the anniversary approached and arrived, so many people have been looking at China, reviewing what they once saw and once reported, interviewing the Chinese or journalists that were there, wondering what the government will do now, and scrutinizing what the government says or what the government prevents others from saying. We keep looking at them. We keep talking about them.
Have we looked at ourselves?
Have we talked about ourselves?
What do you remember?
- Where were you?
- How old were you?
- What were you doing?
- How did (not do) you feel?
- What did you do afterward?
- What have you done since?
Please take the time to think back and answer the above questions in the comments below. Share a part of you, as you were and as you have changed over time.
Perhaps in answering these questions of ourselves, we can better understand why June 4th matters to us personally, and thus better understand why and how Tiananmen Square may matter to everyone else. Everything starts with ourselves first.
You asked, I will answer:
Where were you?
Wellington, specifically, Petone, at the southern end of the Hutt Valley/northern shore of Wellington Harbour/Te Whanganui a Tara, at the southern end of the North Island/Te Ika a Maui, New Zealand/Aotearoa (sorry, but I was inspired by my new passport’s more complete bilingualism).
How old were you?
I turned 13 the day martial law was declared in Beijing.
What were you doing?
Watching events unfolding live on TV.
How did (not do) you feel?
I can’t honestly say, in either tense. I imagine I felt horror and disappointment, but it was 20 bloody years ago and I was just a kid. I was, however, always interested in events in the big wide world beyond the shores of my little island, and I had already read a fair bit about China, but…. To be honest, I remember the elation of seeing the Berlin Wall fall later that year much more clearly. I mean, I remember the events in Beijing pretty clearly, but I can’t honestly say what I felt. Nor can I honestly say what I feel today.
What did you do afterward?
Shit, I dunno… I imagine I carried on with life much as any other 13 year old would- playing along the banks of the Hutt River with my mates, going to school, obssessively reading and re-reading the National Geographics I collected at the time, as well as any other book that had the misfortune to find itself within my grasp. ‘Course, it being winter on my little island, I woulda spent a lot more time inside reading with Wellington’s notorious winter storms howling outside, being periodically shaken by the frequent earthquakes that make themselves more clearly known on sediment, silt, and similar soil types, like the floor of the Hutt Valley.
What have you done since?
Lived. Got through high school and university. Got a degree. Came to China, eventually settling in Beijing. Visited Norway for 6 weeks with a couple of side trips to Sweden. Did several visa runs to Hong Kong. Ate. Drank. Got married. Y’know, lived.
And forgive me, but I’ve come to suspect that perhaps for us Westerners, the Beijing Spring of ’89 has come to be such a big deal because of events in Eastern Europe later that year. As I said, I clearly remember the elation of seeing the Berlin Wall fall.
I think my strange saga’s been told elsewhere, but since you ask…
1. Where were you?
At 7:30 am on the morning of June 3, I boarded a train bound for Baicheng, in western Jilin province near the Inner Mongolian border. So when the troops moved in I was probably fast asleep on that train, which didn’t arrive until the morning of the 4th. At that point I still had no idea what had happened.
I was with the other founding members of the band Tang Dynasty (Ding Wu, Zhang Ju, and my college roommate from Berkeley, Drew Szabo) as well as two other Americans, Sean Andrews (with whom Drew and I were playing in another band called STG [Short-term Gratification]) and Bob Mitchell, who I’d befriended just weeks earlier in Beijing.
2. How old were you?
I was 23, barely a year out of college.
3. What were you doing?
The two bands played a show on the night of the 4th in Baicheng and as much of that day had been spent setting up and soundchecking, we were completely oblivious to the fact that the stalemate we had left — people lying in front of advancing APCs in western Beijing, students still in the Square — had been broken in a paroxysm of violence. We didn’t learn that until the morning of the 7th — none of us, that is, except for Sean, who feuded with the tour promoter on the night of the 4th and boarded a train back to Beijing that very night. Boy was he in for a surprise! He ended up on a tricycle cart under a blanket, which ferried him to the U.S. Embassy where he sat in a room with the astrophysicist Fang Lizhi. Quite a story on his part. The rest of us arrived in Qiqihar in northernmost Heilongjiang province and found out what had happened when we got to our hotel.
4. How did (not do) you feel?
I was utterly dumbfounded. I was scared, and sad, and worried for all the people I knew who had been active participants. I knew that my parents in the States, and my grandmother in Beijing, must have been worried sick about us. I was hearing all sorts of rumors about an impending clash between the 27th and 38th armies, and I was fearful that things would disintegrate into civil war. I could make very little sense of what had actually happened. The footage I saw was naturally just state media, which showed the burned soldiers’ bodies, workers raiding APCs for assault rifles and passing them out, and anything else to make it look like the uprising they claimed it was.
5. What did you do afterward?
We had no choice really but to go ahead and play the shows we had booked in Qiqihar. After the show on the night of the 7th, however, there was a near-riot: The audience had been promised a foreign act; in fact, it emerged later that we had been billed as Michael Jackson’s back-up band by the unscrupulous promoter. And since the only visible foreigner, Sean (who sang and played bass), had already left, people were really pissed, and even set fire to the ticket booth. Fearing for our lives we came up with a plan to have Drew, who as drummer hadn’t been visible behind his kit, come up front and play a few songs on bass and sing. Bob, an accomplished pianist, played keyboards too. We did among other songs Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb.” This appeased the crowd. Meanwhile, we’d contacted the U.S. Consulate in Shenyang, which arranged for us to leave on a Canadian charter flight from Dalian to Hong Kong on the 13th. We took a train to Dalian and hung out there. Bob Mitchell, feeling adventurous, booked passage on a ship bound for Hong Kong. Drew and I flew out.
6. What have you done since?
I had planned on staying in China for at least another year before starting graduate school, but that plan was shot (no pun intended). I made my way back to the parental nest in Tucson, Arizona, where there happened to be a good East Asian Studies department. A Political Science professor named Allen Whiting took me under his wing, and that fall I started doing some graduate coursework while I formally applied. In grad school I mostly tried to make sense of what I’d seen transpire in the spring of 89, focusing on intellectuals and the state in modern China, on scientism in the May 4th period, on the rise of technocracy in post-Mao China, and of course on the “Beijing Spring.” I got my MA in 1992.
I didn’t make it back to China until the summer of 91, by which time, in my absence, Tang Dynasty had managed to get signed by Rock Records of Taiwan. In the summer of 91 I worked with Tang Dynasty on material for the first CD but had to leave before we could get into the studio. The following summer I toured with them in the South. Another hiatus from China followed, with only very brief visits until I dropped out of grad school after Fall semester 1995. In May of 95, Zhang Ju, Tang Dynasty’s bass player, had been killed in a motorcycle accident, and after his death the band went into a bad tailspin. Ding Wu asked me to rejoin, so I came back to China in the summer of 1996 and have been here since. I left Tang Dynasty after the Belgrade Embassy Bombing in 1999, worked for an Internet company and a couple of mobile start-ups, started working as a technology business writer, started a new band in 2001 (Chunqiu, still going strong), got married to a long-time friend (Zhang Fan, or Fanfan) in 2003 and started a family (Guenevere b. April 2004, Johnny b. March 2006), worked for Ogilvy for two years, and now working on a book and doing various consulting gigs.
1. Where were you?
Shanghai, my university dorm.
2. How old were you?
19.
3. What were you doing?
Nothing. My parents insisted I went back to Shanghai, when the government called for all students resume the semester. When I did go back on around June 2, the campus was more than 80% empty. Everyone else went back home by late May, the same time as I did. I was listening to the Radio, watching TV, and maybe playing cards with classmates. Our campus is far in the suburb, about 2 hours commute to get to the People’s Square and longer to the Bund. The main campus is fairly close to CPC Shanghai Kang Ping Road Office though. I went to the Bund for many times in May, but didn’t on that particular day. The standoff was dragging for too long, and the fatigue was showing on both sides. The university president was on a trip abroad but came back right after June 4, appearing on TV leading a group of cadets cleaning up the streets.
4. How did (not do) you feel?
Uncertain. Where will China go from here? I almost laugh out loudly and felt even more uncertain about the future when sometime later Jiang Zemin appeared on TV as the CPC General Sec. Didn’t have a high opinion of him, esp heard him comically showing off his foreign languages. My parents, on the other hand, felt the long gone warm feeling coming back when they saw him leading the choir singing “Unity is Strength”.
5. What did you do afterward?
I went back home, as everyone else. The railroad was extremely crowded so I chose to take the boat trip.
6. What have you done since?
Get on my life. Graduate, work a bit, continue the education, grab the opportunity and went abroad.
I was 24 years old, working at a bank in Shreveport, Louisiana, and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Though it took another five years before I set foot in China, the events of 1989 drew my attention to China for the first time. The Goddess of Democracy was a particularly poignant symbol to me, and it made me realize that Chinese were just like everyone else — they wanted to have more say in their lives.
As the events unfolded, I remember sitting in front of the TV in stunned silence while Mike Chinoy reported on CNN. I later became interested to learn more about the country, its people, its history, its language, and Deng Xiaoping’s reforms.
I think I can say for certain that I would not be sitting in Shanghai right now if it were not for the events of 1989.
I have vivid memories of the summer of 1989 in Hong Kong. I answered some of these questions in my 19th anniversary post last year, which I’ll excerpt from here.
1. Where were you?
On June 4th, I was probably in the Los Angeles area, preparing for my summer internship in Hong Kong:
2. How old were you?
I was 20, in the middle of my sophomore year and junior year in college.
3. What were you doing?
Honestly, I don’t remember what I was doing exactly on June 4th, but I was probably glued to the TV following the event from afar. I imagine I was in discussions with my parents about the wisdom of flying into Hong Kong just a few days later.
4. How did (not do) you feel?
5. What did you do afterward?
There was a great sense of crisis and uncertainty in Hong Kong that summer. From my earlier post:
6. What have you done since?
That summer left a mark on me. It is hard to say how interested I would be in the overarching China “project” had I not had that summer in Hong Kong. However, I moved on and ended up staying in Boston the following summer, to be near my girlfriend (who eventually became my wife). I went on to work at Microsoft after college, then went to business school, then started several companies in Silicon Valley and somehow ended up a serial entrepreneur. I didn’t get involved in China again until 2005 when I had the opportunity to advise a company in the virtual currency space (which related to one of my previous startups) and invest in a company in the automotive online marketing space. But my family responsibilities resulted in my staying in the Silicon Valley as an entrepreneur and investor in my current company UpTake. I started CNReviews with Min Guo in December 2007. Blogging has exacted a high cost from me in time but it has allowed me to connect with people who share my interest in passion for what Kaiser Kuo calls “the most exciting story of our time.” I hope to get more involved in some cross-border opportunity in the future, and potentially move to China for a longer period of time so my children can be bilingual and bicultural.
I share the same strong, positive feelings for the Hong Kong people as Cam MacMurchy does (see his post about Hong Kong remembering TAM this year) and I feel the Hong Kong people have a special role in the history of China going forward.
“I share the same strong, positive feelings for the Hong Kong people as Cam MacMurchy does (see his post about Hong Kong remembering TAM this year) and I feel the Hong Kong people have a special role in the history of China going forward.”
You’re not the only one ;)
I was in Nanjing, teaching at the Hopkins Nanjing Center. Many of my students, Chinese students from all over the county, had been very much involved in the Nanjing movement. I was 32 years old.
The morning of the 4th we woke to a blackout on the TV. A message on the screen simply announced that there had been a counterrevolutionary riot in the capital. My students immediately knew that the army had attacked. We watched later when the news came on and one of the announcers never looked up. One of my students, who had been in a military intelligence unit (he had joined the movement and had to leave China later), pointed out to me that this was a silent protest on the part of the newscaster.
I felt horrible. A friend of mine at Nanda was arrested. I was identified within our unit as a “bad element” (ridiculous, really; I hadn’t done anything but witness the movement). I felt angry, watching good lives now being crushed.
We stayed in China about two more weeks. Some Americans were panicky and trying to rush out as soon as possible. That seemed useless to me. My wife and I were supposed to go up to Beijing and take the trans-Siberian railroad. But that was now impossible. We flew to Hong Kong.
I helped a few of my students get out of China, into situations in the US.
Since then I have taught Chinese politics (my day job) at Williams College in Massachusetts. And I make sure to spend a good amount of time on 1989.
“Since then I have taught Chinese politics (my day job) at Williams College in Massachusetts. And I make sure to spend a good amount of time on 1989.”
You’re needed in China. Badly.
You know, what’s funny is that I’ve answered these questions many times since 1989 but I noticed today, before reading this post, that I’ve recounted my story less and less as time goes by. There was a time when I used to go to ride my bike to the Square on this day and do a lap but that has stopped, too. The news channel and web site tributes were mostly blocked. It really has come down to this – individuals posting messages on web sites and thinking about that time in smaller, disjointed, groups. Which is exactly what the authorities wanted. But posts like this will ensure that that day will never be forgotten – hats off and thanks to you both Kai Pan and Elliott.
I was 19, in Toronto, and supposed to be writing my final exams in high school except that my grandfather, who was born in China, had passed away on the 2nd and, since I had already been accepted to a university, my school kindly exempted me from taking those last exams so I could be with my family. On June 4 we were preparing for my grandfather’s funeral and waiting for relatives to arrive from overseas. There was a lot of sitting around and I guess I watched everything unfold on TV.
I was already in mourning for my grandfather. He had struggled to make a living in China in his early days, left for the Philippines for a better life and did everything he could so that his eldest, my father, could study to be a doctor. My father then emigrated to Canada and eventually brought other family members with him, including my grandparents.
I was born and raised in the least multicultural part of Canada and went to the least multicultural high school in Toronto. I always wondered what it was like to be “Chinese” and I guess after June 4th, with family visiting from Asia and the fallout from Beijing, I knew I’d be going there to find out.
One week after I graduated university I left Canada and, after a couple of small detours, ended up at the Beijing Language Institute in September 1993. Apart from a couple of extended holidays from Beijing, I’ve been here ever since.
1. Where were you?
Trier, Germany
2. How old were you?
23
3. What were you doing?
Preparing my one year long trip to Beijing University
4. How did (not do) you feel?
Screwed, as i had to postpone my trip and rearrange my stay in taiwan
5. What did you do afterward?
We protested at the university. It did not help
6. What have you done since?
I finished my studies. I live in Shanghai
1. Where were you?
Hong Kong.
2. How old were you?
Nine.
3. What were you doing?
Can’t remember. Probably glued to the television, watching the news or something.
4. How did (not do) you feel?
Appalled, sad. I do recall wanting to go to a concert that was held a couple days earlier to support the students, which about one million HKers attended.
5. What did you do afterward?
I didn’t do much, though it probably made my mom decide that yes, we really do need to immigrate, as it did many other HKers. I think it really did shatter a lot of HKers’ already dubious faith that “one country, two system” would be upheld. Luckily it’s been pretty okay so far.
6. What have you done since?
I went to the candlelight vigil the year I came back to HK, then nothing much. I guess argue about stuff online…
1. In Beijing
2. about to turn 14 – my birthday is June 5th.
3. I was living in Beijing with my mother who was a foreign expert. We spent a year there getting to know the culture and learning mandarin. The night of June 4th I was biking around with my friend in the area where the Friendship Hotel is. It was late, and we noticed people frantically biking.
4. We knew that the government was getting more and more hostile, so we decided to head back home right away when we smelled the tear gas.
5. We were evacuated, like every other foreigner at the time. The ride to the airport was a bit eary as there was debris on the streets, and the long road that leads to the airport was lined with soldiers holding guns. I haven’t returned to China since.
6. I’ve done many things since then, including extensive travel in South-East Asia. I remember my time in Beijing fondly, and still think about all the friends that I never got to say goodbye to. Through the internet I’ve managed to find a few.
would like to know who the copyright holder of the picture published with this article is.