Authoritarian regimes regularly and deliberately attempt to rewrite history--particularly their penchant for violence rather than the ballot box--to ensure their side of a story provides a victimization narrative: someone, invariably evil, did something justifying the use of inappropriate and illegitimate force to subjugate that action. It's as old as any human behavior, though increasingly perfected in the modern era as technology and societal fears increase the authoritarians' intimidation.
The heinous crime the massacre meriting such a response, of course, was weeks of student protests against a heartless regime deaf to demands it acknowledge the death of Hu Yaobang, who had shown shreds of humanity during his decades as a senior party official. The students, in their brave and sustained protests, set up an encampment, which they sustained for several weeks, humiliating the regime when the international press corps came to cover Soviet leader Mikael Gorbachev's visit that spring.
Many outsiders did not recognize that the Party's fears for its survival were profound because we had focused on China mainly through a different lens for a generation. Nixon took tea with Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai in 1972 not because he fancied them as potential small "d" democrats but because he sought their support against the Soviets. The subsequent generation came to believe that Zhongnanhai was altering its fundamental nature to align with our global orientation, partially because the CCP was "hiding and abiding.” Others saw it as a post-Maoist society with potential to embrace more western norms such as individual rights of various sorts, to include religious freedoms. As outsiders became more comfortable with the individuals they encountered in this modernizing society, they ignored the growing Party angst about threats to its durability in power. The economic ties we see under stress today were far weaker thirty-six years ago, although outsiders have sought trade ties for centuries.
I doubt the Communist Party knows for sure how many people died on that bloody Saturday night into Sunday morning near the icon of modern Chinese power, the Forbidden City. Communist regimes are notoriously stove-piped, China being no exception, to prevent the accumulation of knowledge that truth empowers. The Party knew, however, that the PLA killed many but the CCP felt compelled to show strength against any challengers to their power.
Authoritarians tweak the truth for their purposes. In 1996, a PLA speaker at the National Defense University denied anyone died in Tian'anmen Square in 1989. He obliquely meant the deaths occurred on the streets surrounding the Square as if that distinction mattered. Since the West tends to use the shorthand of "Tian'anmen," this distortion provides comfort to a regime wracked by anxieties because of its lack of public legitimacy. Military attachés who walked the vicinity the next morning reckoned at least three thousand perished in the massacre of 3-4 June, although efforts were already underway to clean up the evidence of their actions as the attachés reconnoitered the scene.
Within hours, one of the most iconic photographs of the final years of the twentieth century became "Tank Man," a lone figure standing in front of a queue of PLA tanks near the Square. The individual actually climbed onto the first tank to talk with the soldier inside. I don't think anyone ever identified him, much less has much hope his bravery evaded government punishment. His courage, however, was a testament to the truth that endures, regardless of the authoritarians' lies or distortions.
In the end, the struggle was always between authoritarians determined to hold power by whatever means and a younger generation demanding reforms, tired of corruption, lies, inflexibility, and disrespect for those it professed to represent. Party survival would always take precedence over everything else, even if it cost thousands of lives. Besides, the Party endeavors to erase the massacre to prevent any insidious doubts about legitimacy or accountability for so many actions over almost seventy-six years in power.
Tian'anmen is not a topic of public conversation in the People's Republic. There is no national holiday on 4 June, nor is it discussed in schools. The CCP tightly controls access to Tian'anmen, the Forbidden City, or other high-visibility locations in the PRC to prevent any embarrassment over these few days. It's always so perversely amusing how sensitive authoritarians are to anyone pointing out the regime's vulnerabilities to truth as protests would create.
Yet curiosity lives among the repressed despite the authoritarians’ superficial confidence engendered by harshness. We at the College had a memorable conversation with a Chinese scholar in the early 2000s. It was notable first that she was alone, rather than in the usual gaggle, to ensure a CCP minder would represent the Party to us while monitoring our behavior abroad. She then surprised us as a scholar at a second-tier university outside the capital. This woman hesitantly concluded our session by asking whether something had occurred at Tian’anmen as she had heard something but could not find any information. The three of us, who had spent forty-five minutes answering questions about some esoteric topic, looked at one another before answering her in a straightforward manner about the massacre. The scholar shook her head as if to wipe away cobwebs, then asked what our evidence was. One of my colleagues provided her with a VHS tape of a "Nightline" program on the weeks-long protests and the CCP's response. I doubt it is well-circulated in the PRC, but we sent it home with her.
I also heard some surprising comments on a bus during my final trips to the mainland before the pandemic. Both a young woman and a middle-aged man serving as English-speaking guides acknowledged 1989 as a devastating year for their nation because the Party was so unwilling to admit that dissent existed. These were brave, if brief, comments in a society where doubting the leaders' rhetoric can lead to decades of imprisonment. Their courage and honesty are truly admirable. As Xi Jinping has tightened the screws on both the CCP's power and narrative, I wonder if such admissions could even occur today.
I was at a Skokie Baskin-Robbins that Friday in 1989 as the press reports became more frantic. We had seen it coming, but no one wanted to believe a government would turn its tanks against the nation's future leaders. I recall staring, almost in a daze, at a small television in the cramped shop as poor-quality satellite images revealed the events unfolding in Tiananmen Square on June 3-4, 1989. The following week, I joined thousands protesting in central Chicago, standing in solidarity with those who were unable to speak for themselves safely in China, yet knowing we would make little difference in their lives.
Thirty-six years later, another CCP generation of authoritarians determined to rewrite history remains in power, more effectively lying about both its legitimacy and behavior than in 1989. The Party continues to monopolize technology and the nation's narratives, shaping things to focus on victimization. Xi has done so much to undermine the instruments of society to prevent questions about the Party’s illegitimacy.
Vastly under-appreciated in the modern world is the indisputable centrality of accountability in governance. The CCP deplorably deletes any tales challenging its whitewashed version of 1989 to avoid reckoning for its many horrible actions over the decades, but Zhongnanhai is hardly the only government doing so. Histories, good and bad, are vital to any nation because they provide the enduring sinews of a society. Of course, it's seductive to prefer only the "good" memories (or interpretations).
Modern technology, however, is a double-edged sword. Exploited by many authoritarians to cover up their actions, durability also provides a mechanism by which the oppressed can capture evidence for future generations. As we know, it turns out digits endure, whether Xi Jinping, Deng Xiaoping, or any leader elsewhere tries to ignore the truth. It may be harder to find, but that does not mean it no longer exists. Authoritarians ultimately cannot control every single memory, nor is their narrative always in focus.
I welcome your thoughts on 4 June 1989, authoritarians controlling memories, or any other topic. I genuinely seek to expand measured, civil conversation about the challenges that result from the actions we take as people. Please chime in as I do not have a monopoly on memories or solutions.
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Helen Davidson, “World won’t forget Tiananmen Square, US and Taiwan say on 36th anniversary of massacre”, TheGuardian.com, 4 June 2025, retrieved at https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/jun/04/world-wont-forget-tiananmen-square-us-and-taiwan-say-on-36th-anniversary-of-massacre
Louisa Lim, The People’s Republic of Amnesia: Tiananmen Revisted. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014.
“TheTankman: The Memory of Tian’anmen 1989”, pbs.org, 11 April 2006, retrieved at https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/tankman/cron/