China's Great Awakening

NOBODY had expected this, not even the students. The massive people's movement now being unleashed in China astonished everyone.

As the old Chinese saying goes, "It takes more than one cold day for the river to freeze three feet deep." Among other achievements, four decades of communist rule succeeded to a great extent in suppressing the people's initiative and suffocating their independent minds. People felt that they were being maneuvered and betrayed, used and discarded. It was not only the disillusion resulting from economic failures that caused popular frustration, but also the constant spiritual abuse, which reached the most outrageous degree during the notorious Cultural Revolution.

The economic reform started a dozen years ago aimed to change the situation. It aroused enormous enthusiasm from all sectors of society. But their patience and expectations had been exhausted by chaos and corruption. Economic reform, without concomitant political reform, proved to be an impasse.

Due to inexperience and an incomplete legal system, an already complicated situation was further confused by the avarice and corruption rampant from the highest levels of government down. People were angered by an indifferent bureaucracy, one that was self-selected and self-supervised.

However, all the channels were blocked off for them to voice their own opinions. Any move they took to express themselves had been regarded as interference with the government and conducive to political instability, thereby meriting suppression.

The Chinese are fed up with this nonsense. No wonder the students now ask, "Is this still a government of the people?"

IN China, we have a long-standing tradition of student protest. It remains unclear whether this can be best attributed to bravery on the part of the students, or the unwillingness of adults to protest given the threat of government repression. It is deeply rooted in our national psyche that to be truly patriotic entails risking one's life. But the idea also dawned on many minds, in the dark years when people were deprived of their lives in humiliating circumstances, why not make a statement before you perish? Such is the attitude that hundreds of thousands of Chinese are now taking in the wake of Saturday's tragic massacre in Beijing.

This tradition of dissident speech in previous years paved the way for this current massive expression of protest. The students grasped the opportunity provided by the death of Hu Yaopang, the former chief of the Chinese Communist Party, to convey their grief as well as their indignation at the political system, the same as they had after the death of Zhou Enlai at the end of the Mao Era.

But the past decade of reform corrected the former illusion provided by the establishment. Democracy, not another savior, became the inspiration for this new generation of Chinese. The public spirit and self-discipline they displayed, along with their political sophistication and widespread support amid struggle won the admiration of the world.

The great philosopher Lao Tze said two milennia ago, "The people do not fear death; to what purpose is it to try to frighten them with death?" Even those Chinese who would prefer to be apolitical were touched by the hunger strikers. One million people gathered for days and nights in front of the Forbidden City, defying and challenging the reluctant, if not entirely untouchable, authority.

The atmosphere, colored by streams of newcomers including policemen and even Buddhist monks, changed from tragic to almost festive. A miracle was revealing itself in the center of this ancient empire, a truth which had been buried so deep and so long that it had almost been forgotten: the miracle is their own strength. It is their own strength that the Chinese people are rediscovering right at this moment.

PULLING off their long-worn masks imposed by threat from without and self-protection from within, the people are now able to identify with their fellow countrymen. A great unifying force erupted from this sudden identification. I am not alone in thinking what I am thinking, hoping what I am hoping. China is not hopeless. The hope is no other than the people themselves.

What the Chinese people demand, such as freedom of expression and freedom of assembly, is only the fulfillment of certain rhetoric written in the constitution, itself the fruit of their struggle which brought about the present republic. This is indeed a breath-taking confrontation, a showdown of will and power. For the first time in the past forty years, the government found itself in a dilemma, unable to either repress or concede. Ultimately, as seen in the events in Beijing over the weekend, it decided to repress.

The situation is still unpredictable. But one thing is clear the people are no longer the same people. They have laughed together at the emperor's new dress. It is difficult to fool or menace or manipulate them in the same old manner. Times have changed. A new chapter in Chinese history has started. Modern democracy, a manifest destiny, is moving from the west to the east. People have learned that, instead of yielding their power to a handful of people to act under their name against their will, they must take control of their own destinies.

The important thing is to continue the awakening in a country like China with a long history of absolute monarchy, political power was deliberately structured to make authority irreplaceable. People unaccustomed to democracy could easily feel perplexed at the vacuum of power and unable to fill in with their own force. But this is something they must learn if democracy is what they really want.

Mansu Qian, a native of China, is a fifth-year graduate student in the American Civilization program.