Beijing In a Day: Part II
Trip Start
Nov 29, 2008
1
9
16
Trip End
Jan 03, 2009
Beijing,
China
Monday, December 15, 2008
Many, Peter said, had travelled hundreds of miles from other parts of China to be here. The women came in fashionable knee high boots and fur-trimmed hoods; the men in clean cut black coats. Hawkers circulated among us on foot, selling maps of the city and frivolous trinkets like rubber cartoon characters that flatten when you throw them on the ground.
The sheer size of the area felt monumental-an open field of flagstones that must have taken years to put in place. Guards wearing Russian style fur hats with ear flaps and long green military coats marched in unison across the square. A white police car flashed through the crowd, its loudspeaker blaring in alternating Mandarin and English, reminding us to please mind our belongings
Tiananmen Square guards
. The presence of these order-keepers made me feel both safe and unsafe at once. Among the smiling faces, I could not help but think of the bloody massacre that took place here on June 4, 1989. These hordes of happy tourists could have been the crowds of protesters seen on television screens around the world all those years ago. Except that then they came to express their anger and frustration at a regime that did not allow democratic reform.
Much blood was spilled on these stones. Nobody knows exactly how many people died that day, but estimates range between the government's official count of 200 and the 3,000 reported by human rights organizations and the Chinese Red Cross. I will never get out of my mind that iconic image, taken by Associated Press photojournalist Jeff Widener, of the lone protestor who stood up to the tank as it bore down upon him. "The Unknown Rebel" has become a powerful symbol of how his people felt that day, for a brief moment in time courageous and defiant in their desire for freedom.
The iron fist came down. Now freedom comes in a different, more insidious way, of unbridled consumerism minus free speech and democracy
Chairman Mau and the masses
. On this wide avenue where the anonymous protestor stood, sleek black Audis and BMWs have replaced the army tanks. Years later, a new generation of teenagers, too young to remember, stand on the sidewalk, flicking their hair and taking photos of each other in self-conscious poses.The square is flanked on all sides by structures designed to inspire reverence and awe. They are not beautiful. They are utilitarian, institutional. Their bulk suggests solidity, permanence; they have no intention of disappearing anytime soon, these fat dragons of history. The China National Museum, currently closed to the public, guards the east side of the square. The Great Hall of the People with its many pillars and banks of windows, guards the west. Jutting into the sky is the Monument to the People's Heroes, China's largest monument in the center of its most popular tourist destination.
All are guarded by men in uniform. There's not a park bench to be seen. Nobody stops to rest here. The people are not meant to gather lest they become once more an untamable beast to be subdued. Here, the people are meant to flow. And flow they do, toward the most important monument of all.
Chairman Mao Zedong leveled his gaze upon us from his place above the entrance to the Forbidden City, where generations of emperors ruled the land until the early 20th century
"Long Live the Unity of the Peoples of the World."
. This is Tiananmen, the "Gate of Heavenly Peace." His visage is flanked by messages emblazoned in gold. On the left: "Long Live the People's Republic of China." On the right: "Long Live the Unity of the Peoples of the World." If we didn't know his history, the horrors and humiliation of the Cultural Revolution, his smile might seem benevolent, like that of a grandfather looking down upon his flock. From his small gold picture frame, he looks like a harmless old man. We stood before him and posed. A photo with the Chairman is a must-have for any visitor to Tiananmen Square.
To the south, across from the mausoleum where Mao has been laid to rest, a red banner proclaims, "One World One Dream." Almost the length of a city block, it is a remnant of the Beijing Olympics, a modern echo of the characters emblazoned on Tiananmen.
Beijing has opened its doors, if only halfway. And the world has stepped in to take part in China's new story, yet to be written.
