Prisoner of the State: The Secret Journal of Premier Zhao Ziyang

by Adi Ignatius

  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Zhao saw that no matter how many placatory speeches were made, the offensive bits of the editorial would have to be withdrawn if the student movement were to be quieted again.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.

  PART 1

  THE TIANANMEN MASSACRE

  1

  The Student Protests Begin

  The student movement of 1989 is one of the defining moments of Zhao Ziyang’s career. On April 15, news of the death of Hu Yaobang, the liberal reformer who had been ousted from his position as Communist Party General Secretary two years earlier, sets off an outpouring of public mourning by college students in Beijing. It is a clear act of defiance against the decision made by paramount leader Deng Xiaoping and other Party elders to expel Hu.

  The protests come at a time when China’s citizens are already worried about rising prices and growing corruption in the country’s half-reformed economy. As a result, hundreds of thousands of Chinese join in the demonstrations.

  The Communist Party leadership is split. The conservatives who had supported the toppling of Hu argue for a crackdown. But Zhao, who had succeeded Hu as Party chief, worries about the political consequences of a severe response, and that a hard-line backlash could derail economic reforms. As the protests drag on, the power struggle intensifies.

  Soon after the protests erupt, however, Zhao is due to travel to North Korea on an official visit, which limits his ability to influence the Party’s response to the demonstrations. While he is away, on April 26, the government authorizes publication of an official verdict on the protests, in the form of an editorial in the People’s Daily. Its strident tone only makes things worse and diminishes Zhao’s ability to manage the situation.

  Here Zhao speaks in depth for the first time about the source of the protests. He explains why he felt they didn’t pose a direct threat to the government and how they could have been resolved long before the violent suppression of June 4.

  Seven 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 stu
dents 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.

  2

  An Editorial Makes Things Worse

  The Communist Party leadership doesn’t know how to respond to the growing student protests. When Zhao leaves on his trip to North Korea, hard-liners opposed to his reforms take advantage of his absence and maneuver supreme leader Deng Xiaoping to their side, leading him to angrily denounce the demonstrations.

  Any hope of calming things down is lost on April 26, when the Party issues its official verdict on the protests in an editorial in the People’s Daily that reports Deng’s harsh words. Deng is shocked to learn that his comments have been published, but withdrawing the piece would imply that China’s supreme leader had made a mistake, a path the Party doesn’t wish to risk. The Party and the protesters are now locked on a collision course. Zhao has failed to sense the danger before leaving for Pyongyang.

  So why did the student demonstrations later turn into such a mess?

  The crux of the situation was the April 26 editorial. The students had feelings of dissatisfaction that, one way or the other, they were going to express. If they had not held demonstrations then, they would have held them later. They were truly discontented!

  However, the scale of the demonstrations, the mess it turned into, and why it happened when it did were all the results of the April 26 editorial. The situation before the publication of the editorial and the situation afterward were different. If the right measures had been taken to direct the situation, then there would not have been such dire results.

  I visited Deng Xiaoping on April 19 to discuss my North Korea trip, to talk to him about the student demonstrations, and to give him my views on how the situation should be handled. At the time, Deng had expressed support for me. Yet things took a strange turn after that.

  The very evening of the day that I left Beijing, Li Ximing and Chen Xitong of the Beijing Party Committee asked [chairman of the National People’s Congress Standing Committee] Wan Li to call a meeting of the Politburo Standing Committee to listen to their report. Wan Li fell for their trick. (Wan Li and I had been in total agreement in our view of the student protests.) Wan Li directed their request to Li Peng, as Li Peng was temporarily in charge of Standing Committee* activities while I was abroad. The very next evening, Li Peng called for a Standing Committee meeting.

  With Li Peng presiding, Li Ximing and Chen Xitong vigorously presented the student demonstrations as a grave situation. They disregarded the fact that the student demonstrations had already calmed down. In fact, student opinions had begun diverging.

  So
me of the students believed that they should resume classes and had already done so, while a minority opposed the return to classes. Internal friction had become apparent in some schools. Some of the students had attempted to resume classes, while other, more extreme students had blocked the entrances to the classrooms to prevent them from entering. This shows that for some students, the activities had not fully satisfied their need to vent their anger. If measures were to be taken to reduce tensions, to have dialogue, and to allow students the chance to propose certain reasonable requests, this was a good time to do so.

  However, in their report, they [Li Ximing and Chen Xitong] went so far as to state, “Nationwide, large-scale demonstrations including the participation of high school students and workers are being organized and are fomenting.” They also reported that “university students in Beijing have sent contacts to places around the country and have conducted fund-raising in the streets to prepare for activities on a larger scale.” They denounced the extreme opinions of a few students, especially remarks directed specifically at Deng Xiaoping. They presented the demonstrations as opposing the Communist Party and targeting Deng Xiaoping personally.

  With the onset of reform, students, especially college students, had been exposed to many Western ways. Remarks critical of political leaders were made casually and considered inconsequential; the intense climate [of fear] that existed during the Cultural Revolution* and before no longer existed. Many of these student remarks targeted me, such as those that accused my children of making business deals utilizing official resources or those that claimed that trainloads of fertilizer had been sent to my hometown.