Remembering Tiananmen

A few weeks ago, the 25th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square student protests occurred. As a refresher, the protests happened throughout the spring of 1989 in Beijing and culminated on June 4, 1989, when Chinese troops opened fire on the public in Tiananmen Square, injuring and killing hundreds, if not thousands.

The aftermath of the student protests. 

Ever since the protests, the Chinese government has led a strong-armed campaign to cover up the incident. Each year, leading up to the anniversary, they detain people who may remind the Chinese of what happened, and keep a watchful eye on family members of students who died at Tiananmen. In the new book, "The People's Republic of Amnesia: Tiananmen Revisited" (which I highly recommend), author Louisa Lim writes about an old little lady who can't mourn her son at the place where he died, because a camera is constantly watching and waiting for her arrival.

Despite all the warnings that foreigners -- and particularly journalists -- should stay away from Tiananmen on June 4th this year, I couldn't help but feel I needed to go. Milestone anniversaries don't happen too often and the fact that I happened to live in China at this very moment kept nagging me. I wanted to go as a way of mourning those who spoke out for freedom and to take part in a small aspect of history.

Mao's portrait at Tiananmen Square.

My colleague Te-Ping also wanted to visit, so during lunch on June 4th, armed with our passports and press cards should we be stopped by police, we hopped in a cab and drove to Tiananmen. The wide and grand Chang'An Avenue was quieter than usual and as we approached you could see the police presence grow bigger. We heard there would be just as many, if not more, plain-clothed police as uniformed ones and to look out for walkie-talkies hidden in pants pockets. The visitor lines to pass through security checkpoints to enter the square were shorter than usual and there were fewer photographers asking to take your picture in front of Chairman Mao.

Te-Ping and I walked around Tiananmen for about 30 minutes. We saw several guards asking visitors for their ID cards and about a dozen fire extinguishers ready to be used if, Te-Ping thought, someone tried to self-immolate. It was hard to think that so much blood covered the vast stones in the square and that large tanks rolled down the avenue only a little more than two decades ago; the square most likely had been re-stoned and the surrounding roads repaved.

The now infamous "Tank Man" photo, which many young Chinese can't identify.

The eeriest part of our visit was watching the Chinese tourists. We got the sense, as they frolicked in front of Mao's portrait and posed for pictures, that they had absolutely no idea what had happened at this very place 25 years ago. The Chinese government has cloaked anything having to do with June 4th -- web searches, books, school history lessons, artwork, pictures, you name it. Leading up to the anniversary, Google was inaccessible, CNN was blacked at certain points on TV and many foreign news websites were blocked.

That the government has so successfully hidden this incident and taught its citizens to always look forward, to never remember the bad parts of its past, to not be aware of such a poignant part of the country's history is absolutely terrifying -- and yet, also incredible, in the sense of scale. Millions of Chinese have no idea what happened at Tiananmen -- and if they do know, they've purposely chosen to forget. One giant country experiencing collective amnesia.

Even though I was only seven years old when Tiananmen happened, I felt my visit to the square on June 4, 2014 was a small, but hopefully meaningful contribution to the victims of Tiananmen. May their families never forget, even as their government continues to try to suppress them.