"In the twenty first century, America will have no relationship more important than its relationship with China. Our leaders must have their eyes wide open and know whom they're dealing with as they build this relationship. The best way to protect America is to help transform China into a peaceful and benevolent society. Respect for basic human rights, the freedom to worship, rule of law, and free media are all part of that necessary transformation. Still, the true transformation of China will not be political or social; it will be a transformation of the heart . . . "
Chai Ling
When I had finished reading, A Heart For Freedom, by Chai Ling; and notwithstanding the discussion that would have taken place beforehand; I found myself taking issue with the title of this book. For what struck me about Ling, in this extraordinary story, was her capacity to love; a love that finds its fullness when, towards the conclusion of her story, she commits her life to Christ. But I understood, that when it comes to publishing and the marketplace, things are not that straightforward, which was why I thought I could see the hand of the editor, in the word "FREEDOM", emblazoned in the title and set against the iconic image of the young man, with his bag of shopping, defiantly holding up the progress of a column of tanks, through Beijing. But, from the editor's point of view, why not? For central to this story are the peaceful student protests of 1989, that began in Tiananmen Square, before spreading to other cities in China; and which, in the end, were put down without mercy. But for me and echoing Saint Augustine, a more appropriate title would have been, A Hart For Love. And yes, set against this same iconic image. And in this context, I must leave it to Chai Ling to explain why love matters.
Invited to a conference in Oslo in Norway on the theme "The Anatomy of Hate", this is how she describes her contribution:
"When it was my turn to speak, I said we are born with a good sense of right and wrong, and as children we know the difference between love and hate. When we are brainwashed, however, and hate takes on a moral justification - for example, "It is right to hate an enemy of the state" - the boundary between love and hate becomes blurred. Violence and hatred accelerate because we aren't equipped with the necessary constraints. This was the essence of the Tiananmen massacre, when the leadership and the army jumped the boundary with the excuse that they were "protecting the country" to cover their wrongdoing. It never would have happened, I said, if the Chinese people had been allowed to listen to the truth instead of government propaganda. I concluded by saying that freedom of speech and freedom of the press are essential foils to the free reign of pure hatred." (p.237)
Now there was nothing in Chai Ling's childhood that would have prepared her for such a conclusion. Both her parents were doctors in the People's Liberation Army; and on that account spent long periods away from home. In one instance, almost a year, in response to the devastating earthquake in Tangshan in 1976. So the most important formative influence in her young life, was Grandma:
"Her face had many wrinkles, and her tiny body had withered with age, but hidden within her small frame was the heart of a hardworking, enduring tireless woman. The veins that stood out like blue ropes on the backs of her hands were a testimony to years of manual labour in the fields. . . She had married Grandpa at a young age and gave birth to seven surviving children, often returning to the fields within days of delivery.
"As with many traditional Chinese women, the years of hard labour and subsistence living had left Grandma with a strong set of values and traditions. Because Grandpa had died of starvation during the three-year famine in the late 1950s, Grandma was extremely careful not to waste food. She never started a meal when we did, but would wait for us to finish and then eat our leftovers She got up early every morning at five o'clock when my parents did their calisthenics, and began to make breakfast, wash clothes, and straighten up the house. She often went tottering about on her bound feet to gather twigs and leaves for kindling. On bone-chilling winter mornings, we would see her form rising and falling in the grey mist; and when she returned with an armful of sticks, her silvery-gray hair, which normally was combed neatly and coiled up into a bun, was blown down all over her forehead." (p.5)
She had, we are told, a heart full of "mercy and kindness" towards the less fortunate, after which, Ling recounts that moment of pure joy and youthful transformation, that she saw in Grandma when she told her that she was going to Peking University.
Nor were her parents overtly political; nor did they convey, if they had witnessed it, any sense of the dark side of Communism. But when Ling finally plucked up the courage to tell her father that she wasn't going to join the Communist Youth League; or Party, in the bitter tirade that followed, she also had to admit to not having studied the works of Mao. At that, and as Ling describes it, it becomes all too apparent, that her father was acutely sensitive to the expectations and possible consequences, for families within the People's Liberation Army, who did not behave as expected, that is, display a total commitment to Communism, and in particular, to the thoughts of Chairman Mao.
Except that the stakes were so high, this might have been any row between parents and a teenage child. But the stakes were high, with her father laying down the law, and Ling overwrought by the onslaught, but still refusing to concede to her father's wishes; and mother, doing her heroic best, to restore calm and order. But, on this occasion, there was to be no meeting of minds. Not only did Ling not comply with her father's wishes, but instead, rearranged her study program so as to get away from home a year earlier than planned, and all on account of a teacher recently arrived at her school. "What's so special about Party members anyway?" Ling angrily asked her father, before defiantly holding up the example of Mrs Qian who, though not a Party member, was, in her view, far better than many who were:
". . . Her name was Mrs Qian, and she soon became my best friend, mentor, and enlightened instructor. It was she who helped me learn to think for myself. A few afternoons each week, I stopped by her house after school for a heart-to-heart talk. Gradually I came to know her unusual life story, how she had fallen from a prestigious family in Beijing to our remote village in Shandong." (p.20)
Over four pages Chai Ling documents the misfortunes that befell this capitalist family, after 1949, and particularly during the Cultural Revolution, that began in 1966, a fate encapsulated in this encounter:
"One afternoon when I entered Mrs Qian's courtyard gate, I ran into a man dressed like a peasant, his dark face wrinkled like a walnut. He was not quite standing and not quite sitting outside the house, smoking a cigarette. He reminded me of the country people I often saw at the bus stop, the ones the city people made fun of for their backward ways and appearance.
After the man had left, Mrs Qian said to me, somewhat uncomfortably, "That is the father of my children. He fixed a tractor for the production team today and stopped by to see the kids because he was in the neighbourhood. Don't pay attention to what he looks like now: twenty years ago when he was an air force pilot, he was really handsome and had a great spirit."" (p.21)
After which she tells us that:
"Dumbfounded I watched the stooped-over man hobble off into the distance. I couldn't for the life of me relate him to the Mrs Qian I knew. I'll never forget the image of that man; it was as if life had squeezed him dry of the spirit of vigour and youth. What kind of force could do such a frightening thing?" (p.22)
___________
In the four years that she was at university, Ling tells us that she managed to "steer clear of anything that resembled political activity" and the reason was unsurprising:
"In my newfound freedom I still had not completely escaped my father's sphere of control and protection. Somewhere in my subconscious lurked the fear that getting involved in politics would endanger my loved ones. Memories of my grandmother's pale face reminded me from time to time of the risk of wandering into dangerous territory . . ."
But politics apart the picture that she paints of her time at Beida, (a pet name for the university), is idyllic:
". . . The lake, the bell tower at the top of a little hill, and the gardens that flower year-round give Beida a feeling of secluded peace and privilege. In such an idyllic setting, it was hard for any young student not to feel the zest of enthusiasm. The Triangle was the heart of campus, the place where, all day long, students' paths crossed on the way to class, to the dining hall, or to exercise. And it was there at the Triangle we encountered a blizzard of postings for lectures by famous visitors, English contests, sporting events, weekend dances, musical performances, film showings, and flyers for the occasional demonstration or local election. The bewildering array of announcements gave a newcomer the sense of a campus bursting with fresh life . . ."
In this environment she flourished and became, she tells us: "the real young woman I was created to be: radiant, active, curious, trusting and full of zest."
It was Mrs Qian who first introduced her to the life and work of the Nobel prize winning scientist, Madame Curie; and wanting to emulate her, Ling applied herself assiduously to study, in the hope that at university, she would be allowed to study physics. But for reasons that she explains, this wasn't possible, nor was she allowed to follow her preferred second subject, psychology, but instead, was assigned to geology. But such was her resolve, (she had participated fully, though unofficially, in the psychology course for two years), that the authorities were persuaded, and she was allowed to transfer to psychology. And the reasons why this matters in understanding who Ling is, runs deep.
Having first explained why, during the Cultural Revolution, and on Mao's instruction, the study of psychology was banned, and the psychology lectures sent to work among peasants as an aid to "thought reform", she has this to say on the significance of the change, for her:
"The lectures on Maslow's hierarchy of needs opened up a whole new dimension to me. During my growing-up-years, my parents had exemplified devotion and discipline. They subordinated their personal needs and sacrificed their lives for a cause larger than life: the nation and its people. They were my role models, together with a cultural icon named Lei Feng, whose sacrificial service to the army and China was highly praised throughout the country, and they had instilled in me a belief in these ideals. But I could never truly relate to them. At Beida, I discovered a theory that addressed human psychological needs. I began to understand that we had a need for physical safety and well-being, but also for love and belonging, esteem and what Maslow called self-actualization, or realizing ones full potential.
"This was extraordinary/ Never before had I questioned my fundamental beliefs. I had grown up in a system that had divided people into opposite categories: good or bad, red or black, hero or enemy. Things were either right or wrong, there was no middle ground. These new psychological theories fascinated me. As I began to question the assumptions that had formed who I was, I realized that there might be more than just two sides to human behaviour. I wanted to learn more by declaring a major in psychology." (p.36).
Now not withstanding the care that Ling had taken not to become involved in politics, in the end, and after she had graduated, she married Feng. She first came across him in 1987 outside the library talking to other students, and she kept listening until there was just the two of them; and Feng was a revolutionary.
"All sense of time vanished. My curiosity and admiration seemed to encourage him to talk more. Though I could never have imagined we would soon be lovers and destined to marry and lead a student revolution. I was attracted to his spirit - sincere, pure, and brave." (pp.60-61)
At the time there had been tensions on the campus over the arrest of thirty-six students who had been campaigning for open elections, and when a permit to demonstrate, as required, had been refused this fledgling democracy movement went ahead and protested in Tiananmen Square; and one of them was Feng.
__________
Now as it has never been my intention in this blog, to discuss in any detail, the events that took place in Tiananmen Square; but rather to try to create a sense of who Chai Ling is, before turning to an aspect of her autobiography that puzzled me, I can't just change direction without a paragraph on Tiananmen and its consequences. And while my focus is on Ling, I am mindful that hundreds of thousands of others were involved in the protests, many hundreds, if not thousands of whom were slaughtered. And slaughter is a wholly appropriate word to use, in respect of those students and others, who, when fleeing along Chang'an Avenue were pursued by tanks and crushed to death as they fled.
When Ling married Feng in 1988 what she most wanted was a career, and to live happily with Feng. But without either intending, or wanting it, over the weeks of protest in 1989, she surfaced as a leader: in the first instance as Commander in Chief of those on hunger strike; and at the point where the protests were at their most fraught, and though there was a standing committee: the Defend Tiananmen Square Headquarters, Ling became Commander in Chief for the Square. As Commander in Chief for the hunger strikers, her task was primarily to ensure their safety: to see that there were a sufficient number of students to protect them from being attacked; and a safe means of evacuating them to hospital where it was necessary. And the numbers were never stable. At first there were a few hundred on hunger strike, and by the end, the numbers were in the thousands. And as the title suggest, as Commander in Chief of the Square, she was the leader and recognizable figure when it came to negotiations with officials, maintaining order and advising the vast crowd as to what was actually happening, as opposed to the fear and confusion that was inevitable and generated by rumour and deliberate misinformation. It was a period fraught with danger for everyone, the chief of which, was that the students might unwittingly provide the army with an excuse to attack them. But, there were other less obvious dangers for Ling, as, on 3 June, the final military assault on Tiananmen Square got underway:
"Around eleven o'clock at night, [June 3rd] after another peaceful day, a young man burst into the headquarters tent, shouting, "They're really shooting!"He instantly had our full attention. "We were all in a line," he continued, "holding each other's arms. Ping was standing next to me. He was telling me how tired he was after several days without any sleep. I saw a flash. Then I heard a crack over where the soldiers were. Ping fell down. I kicked him, laughing. "Don't fool around like that," I said. "You can sleep after tonight." He didn't answer."
The young man's mouth was wide open. His face was set with tears. "I reached down to get him up, and" - his hands formed a big circle - "he was dead. He had a huge hole in his back."
Around midnight news of other casualties in other parts of the city became more frequent. One worker broke into the tent and pointed a gun at me. "Chai Ling," he shouted, "so many of my fellow workers have died to protect you students. If you withdraw from the Square, I'll shoot you. And I'll shoot you if you don't ask students to arm themselves and join the fight too."
No sooner had I calmed him down than another student came in. This one had a knife which he pointed at me. "Chai Ling, so many students are being killed . . . . I'm going to cut your throat if you don't order the students to leave."
Growing up I was trained to speak softly and treat people gently, as befits a humble Chinese woman. But I was fed up with taking this kind of abuse. I stood up and pressed my body against his knife. "Go ahead," I said, "cut my throat now." This surprised him and he paused for a second, looking into my eyes. Then a weird grin stole over his face and he fled." (p.185).
__________
Now something that perplexed me while reading Ling's autobiography, was the candour with which she wrote about her personal experience of abortions, and especially as I knew from the inset photographs, that she had a young family. But as I am not one to skip pages so as to satisfy my curiosity ahead of schedule, I kept reading, and wondering, until in the closing chapters it became clear that what Ling was disclosing, about herself, was a truth inextricably linked to Tiananmen Square, and to what the students had hope to change: the character of a government, and a system, that besides being corrupt, is, in some fundamental respects, inhuman. It is a full disclosure, that came only after a good deal of though, confiding in others, anguish, and prayer, (and the asking for a sign from God), as to what she should do; and the knowledge that her husband Bob, in whom she had confided, (and who, to begin with, had understandable concerns), would support her, whatever she choose to do.
For me, this aspect of the story was an unexpected turn of events, and a twist that forced me to think about China's one child policy, in all its starkness, as never before. Because what Chai Ling does, in telling the whole truth, is to make the connection between the implementation of the one child policy, abortion, and gendercide. And the story that she has to tell is truly shocking.
What brought the question of abortion to the fore in Ling's consciousness, was the testimony given by Wujian, at a Senate hearing on China's forced abortion policy, at which she was present. And it is in the context of that policy, that we must accept Ling's later statement, that when living in China, she never had a concept of when life began And even if you have a strong stomach, as I have, like me, you might well find Ling's description of Wujian's testimony, disturbing:
"The hearing chaired by Congressman Chris Smith of New Jersey, a devout Christian and longtime opponent of China's forced abortion policies, and human rights violations, included testimony from Reggie Littlejohn, as well as witnesses such as Harry Wu, who is well known for his fight against laogai - the forced labour system in China; a human rights lawyer from Shangdong Province, who testified about ongoing abuse; the leader of the Uighurs, an oppressed minority in China; and Wujian, a victim of forced abortion. I was not prepared for her testimony.
"When Wujian became pregnant before she had received a birth permit to have a child, she tried to hide her pregnancy in hopes of avoiding a forced abortion. But the family planning officials in her county beat and tortured her father, forcing her to choose one life over another - her father's or her baby's. When they discovered her hiding place, she was dragged into a hospital for an abortion. After one shot, the baby stopped moving, but somehow remained inside her, raising Wujian's hopes that her baby might survive the toxic shots and live. But on the third day before Wujian realized what was happening, she was taken to an operating room and scissors were inserted into her body, cutting her baby to pieces. Above her helpless cries, all she could hear was the sound of the scissors. At last, the doctor pulled out a small baby foot, with five fully formed toes the size of corn kernels. The picture was forever seared into Wujian's mind. At the moment of her baby's death, part of Wujian's life was gone forever."
A testimony that brought an inner cry of anguish from Ling:
"When she reached this point in her testimony, my heart was broken with pain and sadness, for Wujian and her helpless child and for every mother and unborn baby in China. Her shocking report of cruelty brought back memories of the helplessness and pain I had felt during the June 4 massacre. That night was so brutal, yet we had no strength to stop it, and the rest of the world could not stop it either." (pp.286-87)
Now a consequence of Ling finally telling the whole truth, about her experiences of abortion, was that it helped other women from China, who for years, had lived with feelings of guilt and shame, to unburden themselves; while at a practical level, it led to the setting up of All Girls Allowed.
"Terror" and "torment", are the words that Ling uses to describe life under the one child policy, and in that context, statistics, taken in isolation, are wholly inadequate. But, quote them I must; and as they are not all at one point in the narrative, I am summarizing them here.:
1 The combined ages of a couple wanting to marry in China has to be 48
2 Though married, a birth permit will not be granted until the wife is 25
3 It is illegal for single women (as well as for married women under the age of 25), to give birth.
4 86 percent of all Chinese women have had at least one abortion, and 52 percent have had at least two or more.
5 According to the Chinese government's own statistics for 2009 and 2010, of the 16 million abortions :carried out in each year, 70 percent, (11.2 million), were for unmarried women and their children :
"Many of them are driven into the clinics by subtle - yet no less lethal - shame and family and social pressure, not by overt physical attacks such as Wujian endured. These women may not even realize they are victims of the one child policy." (p.298).
6 A 1988 study by Beijing University found that the abortion rate in urban areas was 101 abortions for every 100 live births.
7 Every 2.5 seconds, a baby's life is taken by abortion in China.
8 Every day, thirty five thousand forced abortions take place
9 On account of the one child policy, some 500 women a day, in China, commit suicide
10 In the context of gendercide, one million baby girls are abandoned each year.
And in the context of gendercide more broadly, (a practice that is not unique to China), Ling has this to say::
"The preference for sons and the one-child policy are a lethal combination. Daily, thousands of baby girls are aborted or killed simply because they are girls. With so many girls now "missing" in China, the surplus of thirty seven-million unmarried young men is bound to cause security and economic problems. With a shortage of available mates for all these eligible bachelors, trafficking of little girls and young women is now out of control in China. All Girls Allowed discovered a city of three million people that has had (over a thirty-year period) as many as six hundred thousand "child brides" - little girls stolen early (so they cannot find their way home), who are then sold to be raised as child brides in strangers homes." (p.300)
And in the context of the abortion debate in America and elsewhere, Ling makes this appeal:
"With more than four hundred million lives taken in the past thirty years, ending China's one-child policy, the forced and coerced abortion and gendercide of girls, is the most profound social justice cause in the world today. It is one that should unite people on both sides of the abortion issue. Chinese women have no choice, and their babies have no life." (p.301)
__________
Now for me the most poignant moment in Ling's long and contorted journey, came at the point where she describes when, and how, she committed her life to Christ. ("Jesus") For I understood something of the pain of her journey and was pleased that she had found peace at last. And I was impressed by the account of her life as a "Jesus follower", of the communal aspect and the practical help and support that came in the form of mentoring as she took her first steps as a disciple of Christ. And given the attitudes of some American Christian fundamentalists, it was a privilege to follow her around the "Sacred Spaces" as she struggled to come to terms with her past. So in this context, it is understandable that she concludes her narrative with the fervour of an evangelist. But though I share her faith, I am not as confident about the future for China as she is: her belief in a profound Divine intervention. As someone who was born during the Second World War and could not but be aware of the three great despots of the twentieth century: Stalin, Mao and Hitler, in that order, of the Vietnam War, and the tragedy of Cambodia; (to say nothing of the modern tragedy of my own Christian country, Ireland), it is hard to conceive of a China as transformed as she envisions it. And when I think of China, I can't help thinking of the madness, desolation and suffering of the people of North Korea, the details of which are nothing like as prominent in the public consciousness, as are the affairs of China. All of that said, I am at one with Ling in her conclusion.
In the closing paragraphs she describes being surprised to receive an email from a friend, Li Lanjiu, a Christian student from Hong Kong who was with them in Tiananmen Square. She had sent a journal entry written in 1999, on the tenth anniversary of the massacre. In it she described her experience of the killings and went on to narrate how over the years she had asked of God, the same two questions:
"Where were you on the day of the massacre?"and, "Where were you when all those people were gunned down?"
They were questions that she had asked in anger, but, as Ling puts it, on the tenth anniversary, "she quieted her heart and waited for him to answer":
"At that moment, the image reappeared in her mind that had haunted her for the past ten years: a young student dying of a gunshot wound, his face covered with blood, but still repeating as he lay on the ground,, "Persevere until the end, persevere until the very end."
"Just then she saw another figure, coming up slowly from far away. He also had blood covering his face,, but Li was not afraid or shaken. Even though she could not see him clearly, she recognized him as he walked up calmly, with peace and dignity. Then the picture of the young, dying student and the approaching figure merged into one, and Li heard a gentle voice say, "How could you not know where I was? I was right here.""
__________
Note: On this the 25th anniversary of the massacre in Tiananmen Square, this is the second of two blogs in support of those, known and unknown, who are still living with the consequences, as well as those who are daily suffering the injustices of the laogai system, etc., please share the link to this blog with your friends.
__________
© Cormac E. McCloskey
A Heart For FREEDOM
by Chai Ling
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc, Illinois, (2011)
ISBN 978-1-4143-6246-5
Image: Chai Ling (Wikimedia Commons)
All Girls Allowed
History of the one-child policy
"The hearing chaired by Congressman Chris Smith of New Jersey, a devout Christian and longtime opponent of China's forced abortion policies, and human rights violations, included testimony from Reggie Littlejohn, as well as witnesses such as Harry Wu, who is well known for his fight against laogai - the forced labour system in China; a human rights lawyer from Shangdong Province, who testified about ongoing abuse; the leader of the Uighurs, an oppressed minority in China; and Wujian, a victim of forced abortion. I was not prepared for her testimony.
"When Wujian became pregnant before she had received a birth permit to have a child, she tried to hide her pregnancy in hopes of avoiding a forced abortion. But the family planning officials in her county beat and tortured her father, forcing her to choose one life over another - her father's or her baby's. When they discovered her hiding place, she was dragged into a hospital for an abortion. After one shot, the baby stopped moving, but somehow remained inside her, raising Wujian's hopes that her baby might survive the toxic shots and live. But on the third day before Wujian realized what was happening, she was taken to an operating room and scissors were inserted into her body, cutting her baby to pieces. Above her helpless cries, all she could hear was the sound of the scissors. At last, the doctor pulled out a small baby foot, with five fully formed toes the size of corn kernels. The picture was forever seared into Wujian's mind. At the moment of her baby's death, part of Wujian's life was gone forever."
A testimony that brought an inner cry of anguish from Ling:
"When she reached this point in her testimony, my heart was broken with pain and sadness, for Wujian and her helpless child and for every mother and unborn baby in China. Her shocking report of cruelty brought back memories of the helplessness and pain I had felt during the June 4 massacre. That night was so brutal, yet we had no strength to stop it, and the rest of the world could not stop it either." (pp.286-87)
Now a consequence of Ling finally telling the whole truth, about her experiences of abortion, was that it helped other women from China, who for years, had lived with feelings of guilt and shame, to unburden themselves; while at a practical level, it led to the setting up of All Girls Allowed.
"Terror" and "torment", are the words that Ling uses to describe life under the one child policy, and in that context, statistics, taken in isolation, are wholly inadequate. But, quote them I must; and as they are not all at one point in the narrative, I am summarizing them here.:
1 The combined ages of a couple wanting to marry in China has to be 48
2 Though married, a birth permit will not be granted until the wife is 25
3 It is illegal for single women (as well as for married women under the age of 25), to give birth.
4 86 percent of all Chinese women have had at least one abortion, and 52 percent have had at least two or more.
5 According to the Chinese government's own statistics for 2009 and 2010, of the 16 million abortions :carried out in each year, 70 percent, (11.2 million), were for unmarried women and their children :
"Many of them are driven into the clinics by subtle - yet no less lethal - shame and family and social pressure, not by overt physical attacks such as Wujian endured. These women may not even realize they are victims of the one child policy." (p.298).
6 A 1988 study by Beijing University found that the abortion rate in urban areas was 101 abortions for every 100 live births.
7 Every 2.5 seconds, a baby's life is taken by abortion in China.
8 Every day, thirty five thousand forced abortions take place
9 On account of the one child policy, some 500 women a day, in China, commit suicide
10 In the context of gendercide, one million baby girls are abandoned each year.
And in the context of gendercide more broadly, (a practice that is not unique to China), Ling has this to say::
"The preference for sons and the one-child policy are a lethal combination. Daily, thousands of baby girls are aborted or killed simply because they are girls. With so many girls now "missing" in China, the surplus of thirty seven-million unmarried young men is bound to cause security and economic problems. With a shortage of available mates for all these eligible bachelors, trafficking of little girls and young women is now out of control in China. All Girls Allowed discovered a city of three million people that has had (over a thirty-year period) as many as six hundred thousand "child brides" - little girls stolen early (so they cannot find their way home), who are then sold to be raised as child brides in strangers homes." (p.300)
And in the context of the abortion debate in America and elsewhere, Ling makes this appeal:
"With more than four hundred million lives taken in the past thirty years, ending China's one-child policy, the forced and coerced abortion and gendercide of girls, is the most profound social justice cause in the world today. It is one that should unite people on both sides of the abortion issue. Chinese women have no choice, and their babies have no life." (p.301)
__________
Now for me the most poignant moment in Ling's long and contorted journey, came at the point where she describes when, and how, she committed her life to Christ. ("Jesus") For I understood something of the pain of her journey and was pleased that she had found peace at last. And I was impressed by the account of her life as a "Jesus follower", of the communal aspect and the practical help and support that came in the form of mentoring as she took her first steps as a disciple of Christ. And given the attitudes of some American Christian fundamentalists, it was a privilege to follow her around the "Sacred Spaces" as she struggled to come to terms with her past. So in this context, it is understandable that she concludes her narrative with the fervour of an evangelist. But though I share her faith, I am not as confident about the future for China as she is: her belief in a profound Divine intervention. As someone who was born during the Second World War and could not but be aware of the three great despots of the twentieth century: Stalin, Mao and Hitler, in that order, of the Vietnam War, and the tragedy of Cambodia; (to say nothing of the modern tragedy of my own Christian country, Ireland), it is hard to conceive of a China as transformed as she envisions it. And when I think of China, I can't help thinking of the madness, desolation and suffering of the people of North Korea, the details of which are nothing like as prominent in the public consciousness, as are the affairs of China. All of that said, I am at one with Ling in her conclusion.
In the closing paragraphs she describes being surprised to receive an email from a friend, Li Lanjiu, a Christian student from Hong Kong who was with them in Tiananmen Square. She had sent a journal entry written in 1999, on the tenth anniversary of the massacre. In it she described her experience of the killings and went on to narrate how over the years she had asked of God, the same two questions:
"Where were you on the day of the massacre?"and, "Where were you when all those people were gunned down?"
They were questions that she had asked in anger, but, as Ling puts it, on the tenth anniversary, "she quieted her heart and waited for him to answer":
"At that moment, the image reappeared in her mind that had haunted her for the past ten years: a young student dying of a gunshot wound, his face covered with blood, but still repeating as he lay on the ground,, "Persevere until the end, persevere until the very end."
"Just then she saw another figure, coming up slowly from far away. He also had blood covering his face,, but Li was not afraid or shaken. Even though she could not see him clearly, she recognized him as he walked up calmly, with peace and dignity. Then the picture of the young, dying student and the approaching figure merged into one, and Li heard a gentle voice say, "How could you not know where I was? I was right here.""
__________
Note: On this the 25th anniversary of the massacre in Tiananmen Square, this is the second of two blogs in support of those, known and unknown, who are still living with the consequences, as well as those who are daily suffering the injustices of the laogai system, etc., please share the link to this blog with your friends.
__________
© Cormac E. McCloskey
A Heart For FREEDOM
by Chai Ling
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc, Illinois, (2011)
ISBN 978-1-4143-6246-5
Image: Chai Ling (Wikimedia Commons)
All Girls Allowed
History of the one-child policy
