Tiananmen taboo

At the foot of the mountains to the west of Beijing, stone lions guard the entrance to the Wan'an cemetery. The cemetery, one of the oldest in the Chinese capital, is one of the few places in the city where the events of 1989 are visibly commemorated.

However, anyone searching for this evidence will take a long time to find any of the gravestones bearing the dates of June 3 or 4 1989 among the many hundreds of markers. The grave of Yuan Li is one of these but this simple grave, featuring a photo of a serious-looking young man, only hints at the events of 1989. The writing carved in the stone reads: “He was not even 30 years old when he was suddenly taken from this world.”

Approximately 15 kilometers from the cemetery, young students cycle to and from the campus of Beijing University. Here, like everywhere in the city, the traces of 1989 are smeared and the memories fade. Twenty years after the death of Yuan Li and hundreds like him, the youth of Beijing still only have inaccurate perceptions of what happened at that time.

“I do not know much about it,” says one chemistry student. “There are not many reports about it; therefore I know only a little. The exact causes of the protests at that time are not clear to me, therefore I cannot speak about it."

Many students become nervous when confronted with questions about 1989.

“That time was unpleasant,” says a 24-year old economics student. “At that time, surely an injustice happened. But it passed. I think we should about the future worry now. One should think not too much about the darkness."

To debate is to risk punishment

The events of June 4, 1989 are still taboo in China. Public discussions or debates on the protests and crackdown do not take place. The events are only described in the language with the two numbers: six and four.

Journalist Ling Cangzhou says that most people are simply afraid to talk about it.

“The Chinese media today is a little more open than 20 years ago. But there are still two minefields: June 4 and Falun Gong. If one starts to agitate – it is the same as if one would grab a power cable. One is immediately dead. One may not even mention these topics - they are absolutely taboo."

The Muxidi subway station is situated close to the Gate of Heavenly Peace, the translated meaning of Tiananmen. Here, on June 4, 1989, Jiang Jielian and dozens like him stood with bunches of flowers facing Chinese soldiers and pleaded with them for leniency. The 17-year old died that day and his 72-year old mother Ding Zilin continues to fight against the wall of silence which surrounds the death of her only son.

“The memories cannot be extinguished,” she says. “The Gate of Heavenly Peace was once stained with blood. Perhaps the place looks marvelous today but one cannot wash away the blood. The holes from the shells can be concreted over but no-one can wash away the blood of history.”

Tiananmen Mothers fight for the end of silence

Ding Zilin, in her role as the founder of the Tiananmen Mothers organization, writes every year to the Chinese government calling for the “absolution and rehabilitation of the victims of 1989”. Every year, she receives no reply.

The retired professor greets many journalists at her small apartment in a multi-storied block but none of them are Chinese reporters. Even though the attendance of foreigners is monitored and recorded by the state police, she does not give up.

“First of all, we demand that the government stops constantly supervising and controlling our members,” Ding Zilin says. “In addition, we demand the right to express our mourning publicly. We demand that the poorest ones among the victims receive remuneration - without political preconditions. And that those, who were terribly injured at that time, receive the national support given to other handicapped people. That is the minimum for us but the government doesn't even want to know about this. “

Ding is not the only one who wants a fundamental re-valuation of the events of 1989. Bao Tong, a former advisor to the Communist party chief at the time and a vehement proponent of reforms, considers it necessary to process the events of the past. But like Ding, Bao Tong is only heard abroad. In Beijing the 76-year old lives under partial house arrest - without an Internet connection and with a constant guard outside.

Government keeps the history books closed

“The government should reveal everything,” Bao Tong says. “If it speaks the truth then it would not at all have to be afraid of the discussion. If it is convinced that the people support its opinion, then it should let the people have their own opinion and not forbid them to speak about it. “

From the point of view of the ruling party, nevertheless, the chapter of June 4, 1989 is closed. The economic development of the past decades and the many changes in China are proof that the government acted correctly at the time, the party says.

Therefore, debates take place - if at all - only on the Internet, far away from the nationally controlled media.

“Outside the nationally controlled media, many want to know the truth,” says Ling Cangzhou. “On the Internet, one covers and indirectly talks about this topic - and we know how to cheat the Internet police. But surely another ten years will pass until this can also be discussed publicly. One may not count on it happening under the government of President Hu Jintao."

Outside at Wan'an, workers dig new graves at the cemetery. People watch at the wrought-iron gate. Until China starts a debate about June 4, the cemeteries will probably remain the only places where mourning may be shown publicly for the victims of 1989.

Ruth Kirchner (nda)

Editor: Susan Houlton