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The Independent
3 days ago
- Business
- The Independent
Tiananmen massacre: It's time to wake up and stand up to the butchers of Beijing
On this day, 36 years ago, thousands of peaceful protesters were gunned down in Beijing's Tiananmen Square and in the streets and alleyways of China's capital during a brutal crackdown on student-led pro-democracy protests. Thousands more were massacred in cities across China. British diplomatic cables revealed that the death toll may have been as high as 10,000. Last week, a group known as the Tiananmen Mothers – whose sons and daughters were killed, injured or jailed in 1989 – issued a statement calling for an independent investigation into the massacre. 'The bereaved will never forget,' they wrote. 'This atrocity, engineered entirely by the government of the time, remains one of the darkest chapters in human history. The pain it has caused has never left – it is a nightmare that time cannot fade.' Yet, as far as the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is concerned, nothing happened on 4 June 1989. This was a day erased from history – no commemoration has ever been possible in mainland China. Even in Hong Kong, the one city in China where memorials used to be held, candlelight vigils have been banned over the past five years. Hong Kong's Catholic Church, which used to hold commemorative masses, has not done so for the past three years. Simply lighting a candle on this day can land you in jail for years. Thirty-six years on, one might ask the question: what did the student movement in 1989 achieve? On the surface, nothing, except bloodshed, death and repression. Over the past three decades, despite brief periods of relative relaxation and apparent opening, the rule of the CCP regime has become more repressive, and authoritarianism in China has intensified. Over the past 13 years of Xi Jinping's rule, in particular, China has been plunged into a new dark age of repression – in which we have seen the dismantling of Hong Kong's once-celebrated and vibrant civil society, genocide of the Uyghurs, an acceleration of persecution of Christians and Falun Gong practitioners, and increased repression in Tibet. In addition, we have seen more aggression towards Taiwan and more transnational repression against Beijing's critics abroad, with China operating clandestine security outposts in places like New York and London to monitor and threaten Chinese activists abroad. For too long, the free world has emboldened and facilitated the CCP's repression. The decision by the US to award China 'permanent normal trading status' (PNTR) and later 'Most-Favoured Nation' (MFN) status in 2000, just over a decade after the slaughter, was wrong-headed. Turning to the present day, there is a need for a wake-up call. We should not have normal trading relations with a genocidal regime committing crimes against humanity and dire repression. Such a regime cannot be trusted. Few sane voices would say we should disengage or stop all trade – that is not possible with such a vast market and such a strong power. No, the question before us is not whether to engage, but how – and on whose terms? We should impose targeted sanctions on those responsible for the Uyghur genocide, but also for the dismantling of Hong Kong's freedoms in violation of an international treaty, the Sino-British Joint Declaration, in which Beijing promised to uphold Hong Kong's autonomy and liberty at least until 2047. We should also demand the release of political prisoners. Any trade deals with China should be contingent on the release of media entrepreneur and British citizen Jimmy Lai, barrister Chow Hang-tung and all Hong Kong political prisoners. Ms Chow was jailed for organising candlelight vigils to commemorate the Tiananmen massacre (Chow had her conviction overturned, but is still behind bars over a separate subversion case) and one of the multiple charges against Lai was the crime of lighting a candle and saying a prayer at such a vigil, so their cases are symbolic on this anniversary. But the international community must also step up efforts to demand the release citizen journalist Zhang Zhan, Christian pastor Wang Yi, Uyghur medical doctor Gulshan Abbas, dissident Dr Wang Bingzhang, who has been held for 23 years after being abducted from Vietnam, Tibet's Panchen Lama and his relatives, and the thousands of prisoners of conscience across China. On the surface, Beijing's leaders seem emboldened. Even though China's economic miracle appears to have waned, with its property bubble bursting and the opportunities for young people to find good jobs declining, nevertheless it appears on track to hit 5 per cent growth this year. With its Belt and Road Initiative, despite failures and frustrations, China appears to have successfully entrapped many developing countries in its orbit, building an alliance of authoritarianism to counter the free world. The turbulence over Donald Trump's tariffs so far does not appear to have dented Xi Jinping's grip on power – and may even have strengthened his hand in the short term. Yet, there are two important things that the protesters in Tiananmen Square 36 years ago achieved, which we forget at our peril. First, they showed that, when given the chance, the people of China want freedom – and many have made enormous personal sacrifices towards that goal. They are not beholden to the CCP. Even today, when I speak with Chinese friends privately, many of them indicate their desire to be free. And protests in recent years – notably the White Paper movement of 2022 – show that the lamp of freedom in China has not dimmed and will, periodically, emerge again. Second, by peacefully protesting, the students in Tiananmen Square and around the country illustrated the stark contrast between their cause and character and the regime's. Faced with peaceful protestors, the CCP sent in tanks and soldiers. They met placards and hunger strikers with guns and bullets. In so doing, they exposed to the world – not for the first time, and not for the last – their true nature. Thirty-six years on, the regime has not changed. It continues its repression, cruelty, inhumanity, barbarity and criminality. The question is not whether China has changed. It is whether the free world has the courage to change its approach to China. Will we put morals before mammon? Will we, who believe in freedom and human rights, finally wake up and stand up to the butchers of Beijing?
The Guardian
5 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
Örkesh Dölet descended on to Tiananmen Square with thousands of fellow student protesters. He's now 36 years into exile
When I was little, mum used to take us to visit an elderly Uyghur couple every year. We would climb up the winding concrete stairs in a Soviet-era apartment block and be greeted with a warmth that felt like family. Over piping hot bowls of Uyghur chay, mum would talk to them for hours while my brother and I listened. I always assumed they were relatives of ours, until mum told me that they were the parents of her friend Örkesh Dölet, and they had not seen their son for over 20 years. As a child, I didn't know who Örkesh was, but my heart broke for his parents, who clearly loved and missed their son so very dearly. Growing up in Beijing, dad used to take us to Tiananmen Square on weekends to fly colourful swallow-shaped kites. Due to censorship, I never knew that the pristine, neatly paved tiles beneath the soles of my sparkly light-up sneakers were once carpeted with the corpses of brave pro-democracy student protesters. I never saw the famous photo of 'tank man'. I never knew the date '4 June 1989' had any significance for the city that I called home. When I first learned about the Tiananmen Square protests, I was in disbelief. I could not even imagine a Beijing where young people would dare to dream of and fight for a better China. In the repressive China that I grew up in, a movement like that of 1989 seemed like fiction from some distant, unrecognisable timeline. But the student movement was real, it was impactful, and it was led by a young Uyghur man named Örkesh Dölet. I interviewed Örkesh remotely from his home in exile in Taiwan as part of an upcoming book project, titled Uyghur Resistance. Now, as the anniversary of the 1989 massacre approaches, Örkesh reflects on his lifelong dedication to the fight for democracy, and on that one summer 36 years ago that would irreversibly alter the course of his life. In April 1989, Örkesh was a scrawny, charismatic 21-year-old student at Beijing Normal University. He descended on to Tiananmen Square with thousands of fellow students, who bravely protested for democracy and human rights. Over 50 days, Örkesh stepped up as a leader of the Beijing Students Autonomous Federation and represented students in televised negotiations with Chinese Communist party leaders. Then, on 4 June 1989, the tanks rolled in. The People's Liberation Army mowed down the blossoming civil society movement that Örkesh had helped build, but it could not extinguish the powerful sense of justice that continues to burn within the soul of this lifetime activist. After the massacre, Örkesh found himself on China's most wanted list and escaped into exile under cover of darkness, as did the other high-profile protest leaders. However, unlike his fellow exiled Han Chinese protest leaders, Örkesh has not once been allowed to return to China, nor has the Chinese Communist party granted his parents the documents necessary to travel overseas. During one of our visits, Örkesh's father said he had sent one handwritten letter to Chinese government officials every week since June 1989, imploring them to let him see his son. I know every stroke of every Mandarin character on every one of those 1,800 unanswered letters is chiselled with longing. Desperate to see his family, Örkesh tried to turn himself in to China on four separate occasions without success. 'I was most wanted by the Chinese government, but then all of a sudden when I turn myself in, when I offer myself to them, I became the most unwanted.' Örkesh is a really strong person who has seen and survived extraordinary hardships, but even the staunchest, most assertive political dissident is still human: 'I miss my family. I want to see them. Even if that meeting has to take place in the form of a prison visit, I still want to have an opportunity to see my family.' Thirty-six years in exile is a pain that I can only imagine. For me, it has been 10 years since I've been to East Turkestan and seen my loved ones. These past 10 years have been pure agony. But Örkesh has borne this pain since before I was even alive. I think of the vacuum left by his absence, which was palpable in his parents' apartment. Then I think of the 500,000 members of the Uyghur diaspora and the void we ourselves have left in the homes of our loved ones. Then I think of the millions of Uyghurs in arbitrary detention and the hollowness that haunts the homes of their loved ones. The pain of Örkesh and his family was once exceptional, yet now it has become a defining feature of the Uyghur experience – the pain of seemingly interminable temporal, emotional and physical space between us and the people whom we love the most. Yet no amount of discrimination could drive a wedge between Örkesh and his Uyghur-ness. He attributes his continued advocacy to the foundational Uyghur values that he was taught as a child: 'As Uyghurs, we were brought up always being taught to be courageous, to be brave. I think that has played an important role in 1989 for me to take the step up and become one of the early leaders of the movement. When I am presented with an opportunity to say something, I believe that I should say what I think is right, not what is safe. As Uyghurs, we do the right thing, not the safe thing.' Generations of Uyghur activists like Örkesh have laid the groundwork for Uyghur advocacy today. To be a young Uyghur activist is to follow a path of resistance that has been paved by our forebears, to draw inspiration from their tenacity, wisdom from their experience and strength from the knowledge that we are joined in this fight by all those who have come before us and all those who will come after us. To be a young Uyghur activist is also to know that this path never has been and never will be an easy one. I will always look up to Örkesh. He is the human embodiment of the fighting spirit that lives within every Uyghur person – this spirit is the reason why a vibrant culture of Uyghur resistance persists to this day. Nuria Khasim is a Uyghur advocate living in Naarm. This article includes excerpts from Uyghur Resistance, due to be published in September 2025
New York Times
12-05-2025
- Politics
- New York Times
My Country Is Showing America What's Possible
It was an Easter miracle. Protesters had been blocking the building of Radio Television of Serbia, the national public broadcaster in Belgrade, with a simple demand: cover objectively the monthslong struggle against Serbia's increasingly autocratic president, Aleksandar Vucic. But after days there, they needed reinforcements. On Good Friday students from Novi Pazar, the largest city in the region where most of the country's Muslims live, arrived to take over the blockade. Since Muslim students were not celebrating Easter, they volunteered to relieve their colleagues from Belgrade. This show of solidarity was magical enough. But then a war veteran, who had been wounded in 1992 during the siege of Sarajevo, addressed the crowd. After denouncing the broadcaster for siding with those in power, he greeted the students from Novi Pazar: 'Salaam aleikum' echoed across the square. 'Don't worry about your children,' he told their parents. 'There are no more 'ours' and 'yours.' They are all our children now.' It was a cathartic moment, a gesture of profound inclusion in a country scarred by wars and deep-seated divisions. But it was more than that. It marked a Copernican shift for Serbia, as the country is being transformed by a brave and enduring student-led movement. Combating an entrenched and powerful autocratic government, protesters are showing what — against all the odds — is possible. Here in the Balkans, something extraordinary is happening. Serbia has seen major protest movements before. In 1996, students launched mass demonstrations against the regime of Slobodan Milosevic, beginning his downfall, which finally came in 2000. In the 13 years of Mr. Vucic's rule, there have been several waves of protest — against shady development projects like Belgrade Waterfront, in defiance of widespread violence and, most recently, opposing lithium exploitation by the mining company Rio Tinto. But today's movement is the largest and most extensive yet, reaching deep into Serbian society. Its catalyst came last November, when the canopy of a train station collapsed in the city of Novi Sad, killing 16 people. The station's reconstruction had recently been completed: Corruption, many believed, lay at the heart of the tragedy. Protests demanding those responsible be held to account began almost instantly and continued through the winter, spreading across the country. The government tried to defang them. Mr. Vucic induced his prime minister, a longtime ally, to resign and released thousands of documents related to the station renovation. His administration also said it would offer young people loans of up to about $100,000 to buy apartments. Yet a huge protest on March 15 — the biggest single demonstration by far — showed these efforts had failed. Estimates vary, but it's safe to say that close to half a million people filled the streets of Belgrade that day. I was one of them, and it was a truly joyous occasion, though not without tension. Figures in dark clothes were spotted on rooftops, gathering around the presidential building and patrolling side streets, looking like the dark-clad men who beat up students in an early protest. Even so, the day was peaceful — until, during a 15-minute silence for the victims of the rail station disaster, there was a sudden piercing noise. It was, we were sure, a sonic weapon. The government denies it, though the authorities have admitted to possessing long-range acoustic devices. Whatever it says, the government is clearly rattled. Since coming to power in 2012, Mr. Vucic and his governing Serbian Progressive Party have had things mostly their own way. Blending hard-line nationalism and constant fearmongering about internal and external enemies with a pro-European facade, Mr. Vucic has successfully consolidated control of the country. In the process, he has turned Serbia into something of a Frankenstein's monster, flirting simultaneously with Russia and America, China and France, Turkey and Germany. At home, his success has been built on uniting the business class behind him and rigging the electoral process. Mr. Vucic has also built a network of so-called loyalists who, he recently claimed, 'swore in blood' to serve him. These are the people he trusts more than any single institution, even those entirely under his sway. Though the government uses its control of the media to secure the support of a significant portion of the population, it still depends on this layer of loyalists as both its foundation and its primary instrument of intimidation. This is the climate Mr. Vucic is relying on as he moves against the rectors, professors, students, independent journalists and intellectuals who have joined the protest movement. As university occupations and student-organized assemblies have continued, he has frontally attacked Serbia's educators and academic community. Including threats of firings, the withholding of salaries and the beating of students, it amounts to a wholesale assault on universities. In this, he is following in the footsteps of fellow would-be autocrats. In Viktor Orban's Hungary, one of the most important higher education institutions in Europe, Central European University, was effectively forced out of the country. In Turkey, after a failed 2016 coup attempt, thousands of professors were fired and a few even imprisoned under accusations of supporting Fethullah Gulen. And in the United States, of course, President Trump has turbocharged a conservative attack on universities, threatening cuts and withholding funding from major institutions. In Serbia, no one has backed down. In collaboration with workers and trade unions, students organized a major May Day protest and have been trying to raise international awareness of the struggle. A group of 80 students cycled to Strasbourg, France, to bring the situation to the doors of the European Parliament and the Council of Europe, and a group of runners are making the marathon journey from Belgrade to the European Union's headquarters in Brussels to do the same. Determined to change the country for the better, protesters are now calling for early elections. There's no assurance they'll succeed. After months of protests, blockades and door-to-door campaigning, many are exhausted. Some have been imprisoned, accused of plotting a coup, and there have been incidents of police brutality. But for all the difficulties, the protesters are doing it their own way — without leaders, without hierarchies, through plenums and strictly horizontal decision-making. Equal and united in solidarity, they are changing Serbia and setting an example for the world to follow. Now, that really would be a miracle.
Jordan Times
11-05-2025
- Politics
- Jordan Times
From blockades to ballots: Serbian students confront government
BELGRADE – Serbian students leading an anti-corruption movement that has rocked the Balkan country for months maintained the pressure Friday with a march in the western city of Loznica -- the first major protest since their call for early elections. Many arrived the night before on foot from across Serbia and were welcomed by residents with flags and fireworks. The country has been shaken by months of protests sparked by the deaths of 16 people when a newly renovated railway station roof collapsed in the northern city of Novi Sad in November, a tragedy widely seen as the result of deep-rooted corruption. Students have blocked universities, streets and roads, marched across Serbia, cycled to Strasbourg, and run to Brussels, all while remaining nonpartisan in their message. These actions have "helped raise awareness" and "reached parts of the public that the political opposition had never reached", Dusan Vucicevic, a University of Belgrade political science professor, told AFP. But as demonstrations have escalated, "people have been waiting for some political articulation," he added, referring to tactics. Earlier this week, students shifted gears and called for early parliamentary elections. "We came to the point where we realised that this government is not going to fulfil our demands. This has lasted for almost six months, and they are acting like we don't exist," Andjela, a Belgrade Academy student, told AFP. Students have demanded accountability for the tragedy, prosecution of those who attacked protesters, dismissal of charges against arrested students, and an investigation into the alleged use of a sound cannon during a demonstration in March. Looming polls Facing the greatest challenge of his 12-year rule, the Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic has oscillated between calls for dialogue and accusations that the students are backed by foreign powers seeking a "colour revolution." Commenting on their demand for elections, he said Wednesday that students "won't wait long," though he offered no date. Students have already begun preparing with a list of candidates they would support, which they say "would unite the largest number of Serbian citizens" by featuring the names of eminent individuals rather than politicians. "Students won't be candidates. It will be people we trust," Andjela said, adding that a criteria for prospective candidates was still being established. Vucicevic said the students' strength lies in their emotional connection with the public, as well as in the fact that their "demands are political but not party-driven". "They focus on respect for law, social justice, and political accountability, universal values that resonate widely," Vucicevic said. Public trust Most opposition parties, ranging from the left to the centre, have said they will support the students' demands and assist them in organising. However, parties have not stated whether they would pull candidates in favour of the students' preferred nominees. Vucicevic pointed out that the opposition struggles with public trust, partly as a result of smear campaigns led by the government and pro-government media. But students are shifting voter perception. "Many anti-Vucic voters voted not for the opposition but against Vucic. In contrast, the student movement is growing a base of pro-student voters," the political scientist said. Parliamentary elections were last held in December 2023, with the ruling nationalist party claiming victory amid fraud allegations dismissed by Vucic. The united opposition won 23.5 percent of the vote. Protests have since prompted the prime minister's resignation and the government's fall. A new government, led by a political novice and medical doctor, was elected by parliament in mid-April.
