Finding the Tank Man in Ourselves on the Anniversary of the Tiananmen Massacre | Opinion

I don't like tanks.

They have been continually rumbling in my mind and heart since the 1989 Tiananmen Square Massacre 34 years ago. We will commemorate the anniversary Sunday.

In the spring of 1989, many tens of thousands of Chinese students staged a series of peaceful demonstrations in Tiananmen Square in the heart of Beijing, standing against government corruption and demanding freedom and democracy. The day after martial law was declared in Beijing, May 19, 1989, I returned from my graduate studies at the University of California at Berkeley to China to join the protests. While I narrowly survived the massacre, the brutal scene I witnessed on the morning of June 4—including tanks chasing and running over students on ChangAn Street—changed the course of my life. I am a human rights activist, working to ensure nothing like what happened in Tiananmen Square happens again.

Since that June day, I have been inspired by one of the most iconic figures of the latter half of the 20th century, even though I have no idea of his name. Like the rest of the world, I just call him Tank Man.

The famous images of Tank Man were taken on the morning of June 5, while the massacre was still going on. He was one man in a white shirt and dark pants, carrying something in each hand, standing vulnerable in front of a column of tanks—the physical manifestation of China's might. While the world watched, the man stood still.

It was the tank driver that blinked.

The tank swerved right, then left. Then it stopped, as still as the man in front of it.

Who was this Tank Man?

For 34 years, people have tried to find out what became of him, but his identity—his fate—remain a mystery. That's largely because of efforts by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)'s to control the narrative and truth itself. China's dramatic rise in power and influence on the global stage have been accompanied by the CCP's persistent efforts to destroy, censor, conceal, and suppress what happened during the Tiananmen massacre. The very act of public memory in China faces a brutal response from the government.

The CCP's fear of the image of Tank Man speaks volumes about what he represents. He stands as a symbol of the unwavering human spirit, an individual's courageous defiance against overwhelming odds in the face of daunting state violence. He is the embodiment of the human desire for freedom, justice, and human dignity. His act demonstrates that even a single individual, armed only with unwavering conviction, can confront an oppressive system. Tank Man's heroism inspires people around the world to remain steadfast in the face of adversity, and to fight for what they believe.

I have spent 34 years searching for the Tank Man. In that time, I have realized that while his identity is important, it is far more important to recognize and encourage other Tank Men as they emerge around the world. To give them support and even join their fights.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and the Ukrainian people embody the spirit of the Tank Man, even if it is somewhat ironic that they are desperately in need of tanks themselves to win the consequential war for Ukraine and democracy itself. But it is their Tank Man spirit that gives us hope.

Such another Tank Man is VladimirKara-Murza, a Russian democratic opposition leader, Washington Post contributor, and personal friend. A fierce and principled critic of Russian President Vladimir Putin, he dedicates his life to fighting corruption and repression, while promoting human rights and democracy for his homeland. Kara-Murza has been poisoned twice for his tireless advocacy. Not long after Putin invaded Ukraine, Kara-Murza returned to Russia. This brave dissident criticized the invasion in an interview with CNN in April 2022. He was arrested, as he knew he would be. On April 17 of this year, he was sentenced to 25 years in prison.

There are countless Tank Men in my home country of China. On the morning of Oct. 13, three days before the start of the 20th National Congress of the CCP, at which Xi Jinping was essentially crowned king of China, a lone protester demonstrated against the leader's cult of personality, dictatorship, human rights violations, and strengthening of censorship. He criticized Xi's desire to hold on to the leadership for life and the president's zero-COVID policy, and he did it all by hanging banners and burning tires on Sitong Bridge. The protester's identity has not been confirmed, but he has been dubbed the Bridge Man.

Last November, the first nation-wide protests since Tiananmen broke out in China, spurred by a fire in Xinjiang where people were trapped inside a building because of COVID regulations. The demonstrations quickly evolved into a movement demanding freedom and democracy. Protesters around the country are repeating Bridge Man's slogans. Protests have even spread to Xi's alma mater, Qinghua University.

"If we don't speak up due to the fear of the dark regime," one Qinghua student said at a rally, "I think our people will be disappointed. As a Qinghua student, I'd regret this for the rest of my life." The protesters rallied while holding blank sheets of paper intended to condemn the ubiquitous censorship and oppression of today's China.

I believe there is a Tank Man in each human being. Understanding that, perhaps we might find it easier to aspire to what is best in us; to look to our own reserves of courage and compassion.

The fact is, there are many Chinese people with the Tank Man spirit. I have no doubt their courage will eventually turn the tide against tyranny.

Jianli Yang, a Tiananmen Massacre survivor and former political prisoner of China, is founder and president of Citizen Power Initiatives for China and the author of Its Time for a Values-Based "Economic NATO".

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.