Within hours of the first Western media reports of former Communist Party chief Zhao Ziyang's death yesterday, Chinese police showed up at the doors of my friends in Beijing. They are friends who participated in the 1989 student pro-democracy movement with me, and have never given up their fight for democracy and human rights in China. As the day wore on, it became clear that China's whole public-security apparatus had been put on high alert, with Tiananmen Square closely guarded by police.
Neither I nor my friends are surprised at the response of a Chinese government which is plagued by political and social instability and haunted by a strong sense of insecurity. The Beijing leadership will have many sleepless nights this week worrying that history could repeat itself. That large-scale demonstrations similar to those initiated by my fellow college students and me after the April 1989 death of Hu Yaobang, another former Communist Party chief, could happen again and rock their regime.
They have good cause to be fearful. Friends who have visited China lately have reported increased social unrest all over the country: from unemployed workers gathering in front of city halls to relatives of the victims of mining accidents protesting against local government cover-ups, peasants flocking to Beijing in droves to complain about corrupt officials and thousands of Muslims protesting against discrimination by Han Chinese. Given such massive social discontent, I would not be surprised to see unofficial memorial activities in memory of Zhao erupt and turn into scattered and sporadic protests against the government.
Nor would I be surprised to see President Hu Jintao and China's other leaders use every possible means to crackdown on any type of memorial activities for fear they could lead to escalating protests. Since Hu Jintao took over, he has tightened control over the Internet and more dissident writers have been arrested. Hu Jintao's iron-fisted approach could intimidate many of those who are thinking of using Zhao's death to vent their frustrations against the government.
In addition, Zhao had left the political arena and been under house arrest for more than 15 years. Since the government-controlled media banned any coverage of Zhao and his political achievements during that period, Zhao's name is no longer well-known. For many young people, especially college students, it no longer conjures up the sort of political and social connotations that Hu Yaobang's name did back in 1989.
Given this tight control over any organized memorial services and Zhao's dwindling political influence, while it's possible there will be scattered and sporadic protests it's hard to envisage these erupting into the kind of nationwide pro-democracy demonstrations that followed Hu Yaobang's death in 1989.
However, Zhao's death could increase pressure within the Communist Party and overseas for a re-evaluation of his life, which would eventually lead to a reversal of the official verdict on the 1989 pro-democracy movement. Calls for a re-evaluation of Zhao's role in China's political history have flooded overseas Chinese-language Web sites since news of his deteriorating health was first reported last year. His death is likely to intensify those calls.
Many are now pinning their hopes on Premier Wen Jiabao, who was Zhao's protégé. On May 19, 1989, he accompanied Zhao to meet with many of us students in Tiananmen Square. Based on the Confucian tradition, which dictates that one should respect his mentor and pay back his kindness when an opportunity presents itself, many expect Wen Jiabao to demand a state funeral, and use such a service to restore to Zhao the credit he deserves in China's political history.
Many see Wen Jiabao's reaction as a test of his moral strength. But I am not too optimistic on this count. As a technocrat who steadily climbed the political ladder and survived various political campaigns, I suspect he will put the interests of the Communist Party above his personal debt to Zhao. He would not risk his position as premier for the memory of Zhao, or for those students who were massacred in Tiananmen Square.
Zhao was a tragic figure who followed in the footsteps of the many other Communists who were also victimized during the numerous power struggles that have erupted since the Communist Party's founding in 1921. In part, his tragedy was caused by his own choice and his inability to act. He didn't step out early to support or take advantage of the overwhelming desire for democratic reform during the 1989 protests. Instead his initial instinct was to protect the regime and the Communist Party.
Only after 1989 could he have finally woken up to how his Party had resisted the democratic reforms that he had proposed, and become the very corrupted force that he and many of his revolutionary comrades fought during the early years of the Communist movement. The very Communist Party that he had devoted his life to turned into a monster, and denied him any form of freedom. Instead his successors wiped any mention of his many accomplishments from the Party's history books. We'll probably never know the depths of mental anguish that Zhao endured in his final years as a result.
***
Zhao's death offers an opportunity to re-examine the true nature of the Party and true face of China. In the 1980s, under the leadership of Zhao, China's reforms were two-fold: economic and political. Discussions about reforming China's political system were not only tolerated but sometimes officially endorsed. More than 15 years later, the current leadership has limited its reforms to the economic arena, falsely believing that avoiding political reform could temporarily prolong the Party's monopoly on power. As a consequence, political and social crises have become the very source of instability. The leadership lives in constant fear of any events, including Zhao's death, that could trigger large-scale unrest, and undermine the regime.
In the short term, China's remarkable economic growth can mask the social and political crises brewing underneath. But this cannot last for long. Zhao's death may not trigger large-scale protests of the kind in which I participated in 1989, but there's bound to be some other event in the near future which will do so. It's just a matter of time.
—Mr. Wang, one of the leaders of the 1989 pro-democracy movement, is president of the U.S.-based Chinese Constitutionalists' Association.
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