Prisoner of the State: The Secret Journal of Premier Zhao Ziyang (3 page)

Zhao infuriated his conservative colleagues, such as Li Peng, with his relaxed attitude toward the student activities. He was convinced that after their initial demonstrations, with persuasive handling the students could be induced to return to their campuses. With Li Peng promising to follow Zhao’s line, the latter left on a long-scheduled visit to North Korea. Unfortunately for Zhao, Li Peng found a way to get around his promise. Shortly after Zhao’s departure, Li Peng rushed the leaders of the Beijing Municipal Party Committee to report first to the Politburo Standing Committee and then to Deng. Their report was full of fire and brimstone, prophesizing that if control were not immediately restored, there could be a nationwide upheaval. Deng, with his memories of the Cultural Revolution—during which his son was crippled for life—was bound to be impressed by such a report, and he designated the events “anti-Party, anti-socialist turmoil.” Zhao was contacted in North Korea and in the absence of any other information, perforce had to agree with Deng’s analysis. Li Peng ensured that Deng’s words and sentiments were immediately expressed in a
People’s Daily
editorial on April 26. Contrary to Li Peng’s expectations, however, the editorial, far from frightening the students into submission, infuriated them further because their patriotic actions were so misdescribed. On the 27th, the students marched again to the square, breaking through a police cordon. Li Peng, with Deng’s help, had reignited the student movement.

Immediately on his return, Zhao saw that no matter how many placatory speeches were made, the offensive bits of the editorial would have to be withdrawn if the student movement were to be quieted again. But his inquiries indicated what he already knew: Deng had no intention of allowing the editorial to be disavowed. Li Peng’s greatest triumph was that he had finally found an issue over which to divide the Deng-Zhao partnership. Zhao tried other ways of appeasing the students, but by mid-May he was out of options and faded from the policy scene. When his resistance to the imposition of martial law proved futile, the Zhao era was over and all that remained was to attend the Central Committee meeting and accept dismissal.
*

Zhao, who died in 2005, was to spend more time under house arrest than he had spent trying to run the reform program. During this period, he was allowed to make occasional trips to carefully specified locations, play occasional rounds of golf, and have visitors as long as they were heavily screened.
*
But much of Zhao’s time was spent protesting the petty restrictions under which he was incarcerated. Ever the conscientious Party official, he quoted the state constitution and the Party rulebook to his jailers. To the end, he seems genuinely, if naively, to have believed that at some point his opponents might crack under the weight of his impeccable legalism. Of course, they didn’t. Legality didn’t figure at all in the handling of the Zhao case, only power and stability. It’s almost as if Zhao had just arrived in Beijing from the sticks and didn’t realize that law plays no real role in Chinese political life. But perhaps he took some slight consolation from the idea that the leadership had genuine fears of the turbulence that he might arouse if he were to be seen on the open street.

In captivity, Zhao thought about political reform, Deng’s ideas, Hu Yaobang’s, and his own. He concluded that Deng didn’t really believe in political reform, only in tighter administration. Hu hadn’t thought his ideas through, but his mildness in political campaigns and his insistence on pardoning all those wrongly arrested in previous campaigns led Zhao to speculate that if Hu had survived he would have “pushed China’s political reform forward” toward democratization.

Zhao confesses that as of the mid-1980s, he was an economic reformer and a political conservative. Gradually he came to realize that without political reform, the economic reform program was in peril: for instance, the massive corruption would continue. By 1989, he was prepared to tell visiting Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev that the position of the Chinese Communist Party would not change, but its method of governing had to change: rule of law had to replace rule by men. He wanted to increase transparency and to establish multiple channels of dialogue with various social forces. Moreover, he felt the social forces should be allowed to organize themselves, rather than being required to submit to bodies led by the Party-state. Zhao wanted the possibility of choice, albeit limited, in elections to the national legislature.

Thereafter, Zhao’s views evolved further. “In fact, it is the Western parliamentary democratic system that has demonstrated the most vitality. It seems that this system is currently the best one available.” This modernizing involved both a market economy and a democratic political system. In China, this would mean a long period of transition, one requiring two breakthroughs by the Communist Party: allowing competition from other parties and a free press, and making the party itself more democratic. Reform of the legal system and the establishment of an independent judiciary would also take precedence. Zhao concludes with a brief disquisition, based on experience, on how difficult it would be to introduce such reforms.

The story of Zhao’s captivity prompts two reflections: If a patriotic official only came to the conclusion that democracy was needed for China after years of nothing to do but think, what chance is there for a busy official today to have the leisure or the security to think such thoughts while on the job? And if he did manage to come to such a conclusion, how would he implement these ideas in the teeth of Party opposition at all levels of society? It took a disaster of Cultural Revolution proportions to shake China out of the Stalinist economic model. China doesn’t need another Cultural Revolution, but the Party would have to be shaken to its roots for its leaders to contemplate following the final message of Zhao Ziyang’s testament.

Today in China, Zhao is a nonperson. In a less paranoid time in the future, perhaps he will be seen as one in that honored line of Chinese officials down the ages who worked hard and well for their country, but fell foul of the ruling authorities. Their names remain inspirational, long after the names of their venal opponents have been forgotten.

S
even years ago [in 1992], I jotted down some notes about the events surrounding the June Fourth incident because I was worried that I might start forgetting some of the specifics. I hoped that it might serve as a kind of historical record.

Now I will talk about the incident according to these notes. Some of these issues were covered in the speech I delivered at the Fourth Plenum of the 13th Central Committee [held June 23–24, 1989, when Zhao, ousted from power, defended his role during the protests], but there are also other issues that I did not mention then. I will now talk about all of them.

First, I would like to talk about what initially triggered the student protests. All of the early incidences of student protests were related to the commemoration of [Hu] Yaobang.

Yaobang died on April 15, 1989. Immediately after the announcement was broadcast, some college students initiated commemoration activities. Soon thereafter, they took their activities onto the streets, and the number of participants grew and grew. Though at this point some students made some extreme statements because of piqued emotions, overall their activities were fairly orderly and nothing excessive took place.

On the nights of April 18 and 19, several hundred people gathered outside Xinhua Gate [outside the Party’s headquarters]. I later called for and watched the video recordings made by the Ministry of Public Security. In the so-called “incident of students besieging Xinhua Gate,” some of the students in the front were in fact shouting repeatedly, “We must maintain order! Don’t do anything out of line!” There was a large crowd of spectators behind them. The students made verbal demands, including demands to meet certain members of the leadership. Then people pushed from behind and it got a little bit chaotic. The students then organized a team to act as guards to keep back the crowd of spectators.

On April 22, while the official memorial service for Hu Yaobang was taking place, tens of thousands of students were assembled in Tiananmen Square. This had been officially approved. The loudspeakers in the square broadcast the audio from the official memorial service inside the Great Hall of the People, so they could all listen in.

This was the situation before the publishing of the April 26 editorial in the
People’s Daily
.

Why did the students react so strongly in commemorating the passing of Hu Yaobang? The reasons were complicated.

First, Hu Yaobang had always had a very good public image. He was responsible for reversing numerous cases of unjustified persecutions following the Mao years; he had always been a proponent of reform; most important, he was incorruptible while in power. There was a lot of dissatisfaction with corruption back then, so commemorating Hu Yaobang provided a chance to express this discontent.

Second, many people were displeased or even outraged by Hu Yaobang’s demotion in 1987. Many people were averse to the Anti–Bourgeois Liberalization Campaign [launched in 1987] and continued to be opposed to it. In addition, people found unacceptable the way in which the leadership was changed. In general, people were expressing a feeling of indignation over how Hu Yaobang had been treated.

Third, when the government’s reorganization was proposed in the fall of 1988, programs for reform had been cut back on all fronts. No action had been taken on political reform while economic reform had been brought to a standstill or even retracted. Students were dissatisfied with the general situation and were expressing their desire for advancing reforms through their commemoration of Hu Yaobang.

There were three kinds of people who took to the streets to protest: the vast majority of people belonged to the category I described above. There were also those who held grievances against our past policies and were taking the opportunity to make some noise. Of course, there was also a small number of people who opposed the Party and opposed socialism that were hoping to aggravate the situation.

At a Politburo Standing Committee [PSC] meeting [the date is unclear], I said that we should not forbid the activities of the students who were merely holding their own commemorations while the Central Committee was holding memorial services. There was no reason why we should reserve for ourselves exclusive rights to commemorate Hu, while forbidding the students to do so.

I suggested we punish according to law only those who engaged in the five type of behaviors: beating, smashing, looting, burning, or trespassing. In all other normal circumstances, there should be an attempt to reduce tensions.

After the official memorial service for Hu Yaobang, I proposed a course of action with three points:

 


With the memorial service now over, social activities should return to normal. Students need to be persuaded to discontinue their street demonstrations and return to their classes.

(At the time, I felt that whatever their motives, the students had in fact engaged in nothing more than commemorating Hu Yaobang. So with the memorial service over, and their having had a chance to participate by holding their own activities, there should have been no reason to continue the demonstrations. It was time to return to classes.)

 


2. According to the principal goal of reducing tensions, dialogue should be conducted at multiple levels, and through various channels and formats to establish mutual understanding and to seek a variety of opinions. Whatever opinions they held, all students, teachers, and intellectuals should be allowed to express themselves freely.


 


3. Bloodshed must be avoided, no matter what. However, those who engaged in the five kinds of behavior—beating, smashing, looting, burning, and trespassing—should be punished according to law.

My suggestions were all accepted by [Premier] Li Peng and every member of the Politburo Standing Committee and were officially documented.

The above assessment of the situation and the principles for action agreed upon were disseminated via various channels to local government branches. These were the three points that I proposed before my visit to North Korea. I spoke to key leaders of the Central Committee about them while taking the elevator down after the memorial service, and later expressed them again formally.

On the afternoon of April 23, as I was preparing to leave Beijing train station to head for North Korea, Li Peng came to send me off. He asked me if I had anything further to add. I said that my position had been summarized in those three points. I later heard that Li Peng reported the three points to Deng Xiaoping, who also expressed his agreement.

There were no disagreements from members of the Politburo Standing Committee, at least not openly. I can remember only one: on the evening of April 19, Li Peng called me unexpectedly and demanded accusingly, “The students are trying to break into Xinhua Gate! Why aren’t any counteractions being taken?” I told him that [PSC member in charge of security] Qiao Shi was immediately responsible, and that he should be able to take care of any urgent situation that might arise using existing emergency plans.

I later informed Qiao Shi of Li Peng’s call. In fact, by the morning of the 20th, most of the students had already left Xinhua Gate. The few who remained were cleared away by the police. They were ordered onto buses that drove them back to their schools.

This was the situation of the student demonstrations before I visited North Korea, and the policy of the Standing Committee at that time.