TOC, TOC, TOC. Mrs. You Weijie opens the door after a second call. His face shows surprise, but he says with constraint: “Pass, pass, please.” Close immediately. It apologizes because it is still in pajamas, recently raised. It excuses himself before going to change. In the room there is a humble dark wooden sofa of an elegant white color, a small wall piano, an old watch on the sideboard, a lamp decorated with birds. The walls are wallpaper with floral motifs of turquoise tones. Mrs. You return quickly and sits.
It is the first hour of Saturday, May 31. The next day, the State Security Services will take it out of Beijing to prevent this woman, spokesman for the so -called tiananmén mothers (the group of relatives of the victims of the Student Matanza that took place in the heart of the Chinese capital in 1989), can become the center of some news when the anniversary arrives, the. It is a usual practice of the authorities to silence the critical voices, and that faced by different activists on sensitive dates.
“It’s a very tense moment,” you repeat in the first minutes of the interview. Avoid providing details where the next three days will happen. “I must maintain a low profile,” he insists. It seems to be disturbed. Apologize again for being recently raised. A glass of water is raised and served. His face radiates sweetness and sadness in equal parts. He is 72 years old. His dyed hair long ago shows the gray hair. “I can’t tell it. I have to be discreet, I’m sorry,” he limits himself to explaining.
Few dates are as difficult to pronounce in China as June 4. 36 years after for weeks they claimed political reforms in the Tiananmén Square, the event is invisible in textbooks, in the media, in the very local control and in the daily conversations. The victims lack an official recognition – the total number continues to be an unknown, and the calculations range between hundreds and several thousand – and their relatives must keep the duel in silence, guarded and with little chances of paying tribute. And there are even those who doubt it was true. Outside the borders of the country, however, some of the protesters in exile refuse to let the flame of memory extinguish, aware that oblivion is also a form of defeat.
Trying to talk to someone related to those facts within China is an increasingly complicated task. Censorship, constant surveillance and fear of personal consequences have imposed a difficult mutism to break. The country could do it last weekend for ten minutes.
You, Yang Minghu, was 42 years old when at dawn on June 4, 1989, the sound of the shots aroused. Alarmed by the testimony of their neighbors and concerned with the safety of protesters, Yang went by bicycle to the square to alert the university students who were there claiming openness, measures against corruption, freedom of the press and, ultimately, democracy. When the troops deployed under martial law opened fire against the crowd concentrated on Chang’an Avenue (in the north of the square), a bullet reached Yang. He destroyed his bladder and caused a serious fracture in the pelvis. Although he was transferred to the hospital, the wounds were irreparable. He died two days later, because of an abdominal infection and a heart failure, and You stayed alone, in charge of a five -year -old son.
– Do you think that the relatives of the victims are being even more silent?
– “It has never been easy,” replies the widow.
At that moment they touch the door. “The police have already arrived. Nothing, it can’t be,” he whispers. “I’m very sorry, there is no way … I already told you,” he says with regret. Before opening the door, he shares his message to the world: “I would like the government to assume what happened in the tragedy of June 4 and give answers to the people.” From the entrance, a uniformed policeman asks journalists to leave the place and accompany him. You reiterate your apologies and in your eyes the helplessness can be seen. The police station is in the lobby of the building where You lives. The agent takes identity note and warns: “You have to ask permission to do interviews.” It doesn’t tell who. Nor does it seem likely to be granted.
Tiananmén mothers have been claiming justice for 36 years and demanding the truth. Its members, mostly women, are today old who exceed seventies. Many of those who were part of this association have already died, as they remember in the statement they have issued on the occasion of this year’s anniversary. “For each of the families of the victims, this tragedy, one of the most atrocious that has taken place in the world, caused entirely by the government and the leaders of that moment, continues to fill their hearts with pain and has become a nightmare from which they cannot wake up,” they write.
“This is a wound that the Chinese people cannot close, and it is a pain that will remain forever in the hearts of family members. History will never forget those innocent lives that were reaped,” the text continues, signed by 108 people; Mrs. You lead the list of signatories.
For Gao Yu, a veteran journalist imprisoned on several occasions (including the protests of 1989) ,. “Both what people say and what they think,” he says in a message. Gao has also forced her to leave Beijing these days. It is the second time this year and believes that there will be two more. In their opinion, generations born in the decades after 1990 “have no political demands” and “they know almost nothing about the truth of June 4”. He warns that, “as the group of tiananmén mothers ages, the complaint of the massacre will be limited abroad.” Hong Kong, who for three decades served as a safe place to peacefully commemorate the anniversary, in memory of the victims.
Even so, Zhou Fengsuo, one of the student leaders of the 1989 demonstrations, is optimistic. This human rights activist, who was imprisoned after protests and sent to Hebei to be “reeducado”, has been exiled in the United States since 1995. He is currently executive director of the NGO Human Rights in China. “More and more young people join us. They want to know what happened. More and more capitals outside China organize vigils, and social networks [occidentales] Our publications have millions of visualizations, “Zhou describes in a phone call.” Although it seems that the Communist Party has successfully achieved the memory, outside China, it continues to be the most important issue, “says Zhou.
“During [que precipitaron a finales de 2022 la apertura del país tras la pandemia] Many used the words ‘my duty’, which is 1989 inheritance, “Zhou recalls.” It’s my duty “was the answer in 1989 a student when a journalist asked him why he went to Tiananmén’s square.” It is still an inspiring movement because she was peaceful. And solidarity, love and hope that emerged there are part of the history of mankind. And that will be respected and remembered forever, because the dignity and freedom against tyranny transcend time and space, ”Zhou apostles.
