Error: Unable to create directory /home/demockra/public_html/wp-content/uploads/2010/09. Is its parent directory writable by the server? Prisoner of the State, and Why It’s Relevant Today

July 28, 2009 by James Mutti, Contributing Editor | Leave a Comment |

I hate to follow up my last article about the twentieth anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre with yet another Tiananmen Square-related article. I realize that there is more to China than Tiananmen Square (and human rights atrocities against religious and ethnic minorities–no upcoming articles on Tibet or the Uighurs, I promise). I am also wary of writing from dissidents within Communist countries. Not that their stories aren’t compelling, but because I always suspect that these stories are being crassly exploited by good, commie-hating, free-market-loving American publishers with an ideological axe to grind. But the newly published secret diary of former Communist Party General Secretary and moderate reformer Zhao Ziyang was described to me as a rare and fascinating look into the secretive world of Chinese politics, and so I thought it would be worth my time.

As it turns out, the partially read copy I checked out from the library is now long overdue and since I can’t renew it, my intended “book review” must be much more limited than I hoped. More complete reviews and information about the book can be found here, here, and here. I will provide a limited review, but what is even more interesting to me is that much of what played out in China in 1989 looks in certain ways similar to what has been happening in Iran since last month’s disputed presidential elections. Consequently, Zhao words take on a gravity and relevance beyond the events he discusses in his book.

Prisoner of the State

Prisoner of the State

Prisoner of the State is the journal of former Communist Party General Secretary Zhao Ziyang. Zhao was General Secretary at the time of the crackdown at Tiananmen Square and was placed under house arrest for his determined opposition to the violent, repressive action ordered by the Party’s hardliners. While in seclusion, Zhao secretly recorded his journal onto tapes smuggled out of the country after his death in 2005. These tapes were then complied and published as Prisoner of the State.

Zhao’s journal begins with a vivid description of the weeks leading up to the June 4 massacre in Tiananmen Square. He details the political back and forth between himself and other Communist Party leaders as they struggled over how to deal with the unprecedented protests which gained strength daily. The demonstrations began as a chance to mourn the death of a popular reformer within the Communist Party. They quickly became a chance for students, and later all segments of urban Chinese society, to vent their frustration with political corruption and to demand democratizing reforms. Zhao’s position was that by empathizing with the students’ demands, making limited reforms, and treating protesters with a soft touch, the protests were sure to die down and that they did not pose a serious threat to the Chinese state or the Communist Party. Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping was swayed by the party hawks, who saw a show of force as the best way to end the protests, reassert the Party’s power, and strengthen Deng’s standing.

The tragic events of June 4, 1989 resulted in the deaths of hundreds of protesters and the end of Zhao Ziyang’s life as a respected politician. While Zhao endured nearly two decades of confinement, China advanced along the liberalized economic path he had championed. Unfortunately, Zhao’s silencing after Tiananmen Square also meant the silencing of those politicians who had advocated political reforms and the continuing rule of a small political elite within the Communist Party who resolved to remain in power no matter how ruthless the means. By the end of his life, after years under house arrest, Zhao had come to support political ideas far more radical than those he held in 1989. In Prisoner of the State, Zhao argues that China must have a free press, an independent judiciary, additional political parties, and ultimately parliamentary democracy.

Reading Zhao’s words against the backdrop of the popular political unrest roiling Iran made them even more relevant, shedding light on what might currently be going on in Iran. The two situations are similar and quite revealing, though probably not in the ways most Americans think. Most Western media accounts of the recent Iranian protests have interpreted events extremely sympathetically, and as a grassroots uprising against reviled President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the religious conservatism of Iran’s Shiite clergy, and the repressive security forces of the Iranian state. The truth is quite a bit more complicated however. Serious political analysis of the crisis has been eschewed for glowing personal narratives and the drama of violent clashes between students and government militias. I would even go so far as to say that the picture painted by the Western media is one that it desperately wants to believe – that wants its own fantasies of a secular, non-threatening, US-friendly Iran sans loud-mouth anti-American leader to be validated by the opinions of the Iranian people.

Another   ?

Another Zhao?

However, what has been happening in Iran, and what happened in China in 1989, is not a full-scale popular revolt aiming to overthrow an existing government. In Iran and China, domestic protesters have had different goals and motivations for opposing their political leadership than outsiders have. Both sets of protests were possible only because there was an existing political split within the ruling powers over how to govern their respective countries. In both cases, the protests began as a show of support for political factions that showed more tolerance for dissent and change within the existing political framework. In China, Zhao represented a moderate, reformist political group of the ruling Communist Party. In Iran, presidential candidate Mir Hossein Mousavi claims to represent a similar reformist, moderate wing of the political elite. However, what is happening in Iran may just be factional fighting with little real ideological change at stake. Mousavi – who appears more interested in fighting for his own political advancement – doesn’t appear to be the reformer Zhao was, and Western hopes that Mousavi would magically give up Iranian nuclear ambitions and live in peace with Israel and the US appear completely misplaced. Mousavi has been strongly supported by certain members of Iran’s ruling Shia clergy (particularly Ayatollah Rafsanjani) who detest Ahmadinejad for his attacks on their corruption and privilege. And though foreign media sources depicted Iran’s protests as massive public outpourings of discontent, it is fairly obvious that the protests were limited to educated upper-class students in Tehran and a handful of larger cities. Their demands are certainly not insignificant, but their point of view doesn’t seem to represent a majority of Iranians. The rural poor seem to have again backed Ahmadinejad at the polls. And, despite Western desires, demonstrators are hardly calling for a toppling of Iran’s religious leadership or an overthrow if the ideals of the 1979 Islamic revolution. Indeed, Mousavi’s strongest backers are certain members of the clergy themselves.

In any case, Prisoner of the State illuminates the hidden political complexities that can exist in any country at any time – be it China, Iran, or the US. It also provides a powerful lesson for those who wish to create simple, moralizing narratives out of events that are vastly more complex than most people know at the time they are occurring. We live in a mediated world, but the story the media tells us is rarely the whole story. Zhao has done us all a great service by smuggling his words out of China. They remain relevant as a challenge to repressive regimes that deny their citizens basic human rights, and as a reminder to each of us to think more critically about the world around us.