Wu'er Kaixi: 'I have high hopes for the younger generation'

36 years have passed since the bloody suppression of the Tiananmen Square protests on June 4, 1989. How has your memory of the events changed over the years?

I remember that we often used to start our memorial speeches with the words "time flies." But that's not true. Time does not fly by. It's like it's frozen. I was 21 then, now I'm 57. I always wished for the day when I could return to China. But this longing has changed over the last twenty years. It used to be about continuing the unfinished work that we started in 1989. Later, it became more personal. I want to go home, hug my mother and father, and tell them that I am sorry that they were punished for what I have done. I don't think I've done anything to deserve to be expelled from my country and separated from my parents. They didn't do anything wrong except give birth to me. They don't deserve to be punished for it.

How are they being punished?

They are deprived of the right to travel abroad to see me. And I can't go home to see them. They have two grandchildren whom they have never met. My father passed away last month from cancer. And of course, the fact that we were so far away contributed to his deterioration. It was the same with Liu Xiaobo. He died of cancer in prison. But he also had cancer because he was one of the freest people I have ever seen, and that freedom was taken away from him. That contributed directly to his cancer. The Communist Party killed him, and by that logic, they also killed my father. I don't know how I could ask my mother to forgive that.

That is very tragic.

About 30 years ago, I wrote an essay on the fifth anniversary of the Tiananmen massacre. In it, I wrote that I hoped to meet Professor Ding Zilin one day.

She is one of the mothers whose children were killed back then.

It was a massacre. We must carry the survivors' guilt with us for the rest of our lives. One thing can ease this burden somewhat: that we continue our fight for what was unrealized, to dream and realize it one day. But that is all. A person's life is the most precious thing. I have often been asked if I regret what I have done. No, I don't. But if the question was phrased a little differently, whether I would do it again. Then the answer would be much, much more hesitant. So many young people have died because they had a dream. Would I become a student leader again? Probably not.

The Chinese leadership wants to erase all memory of this day. They make life difficult for those who wish to commemorate it. Have you ever thought about quitting?

When you are in my position, there are many occasions to think about whether there is another way. I often think about what would have happened if I had been killed. It would probably be better than living with that guilt every day. But I live and have to live with the fact that I have to carry this guilt for the rest of my life.

You carry on because you feel you owe it to those who died that day?

I want to share a little story with you about this. One day, Wang Dan and I flew back to Taipei on the same plane.

Wang Dan was another leader of the student protests.

When we arrived in Taipei early in the morning, we stopped for a coffee. We talked about how we had no choice but to surrender. To stand in front of the CCTV cameras and read out the manifesto of our surrender. The Communist Party did not allow it. Not long after, I decided to surrender to the Chinese authorities in Macao.

Why?

I have turned myself in four times. The first time was in 2009, on the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen massacre. On June 3, I boarded a plane to Macao. Upon my arrival, I said: "I am wanted by the Chinese government. I ask you to hand me over."

Why would you want that?

For one thing, a few months earlier, they had arrested Liu Xiaobo, who had called for people to sign Charter 08. I wanted to be next to my best friend and mentor in prison. The second reason is that 20 years ago, we sought dialogue on Tiananmen Square. We still want that. I want the dialogue to continue, even if it takes the form of an indictment and plea before a Chinese court. Thirdly, I miss my parents. I want to see them, even if it has to be in the form of a prison visit.

But you were never extradited to China.

No. I spent one night in immigration detention at the airport in Macau, and the next day they put me back on a plane to Taipei. That was in 2009. In 2010, I bought a flight ticket online from Taipei to Bangkok. With Air China via Tokyo with a stopover in Beijing. I wanted to try again in China what I had tried in Macao. But the Chinese government canceled my ticket before I boarded in Tokyo.

It seems they really don't want you.

I was furious. The following day, June 4, a commemoration was held in front of the Chinese embassy in Tokyo. I jumped over the police barrier and tried to storm into the Chinese embassy. But the Japanese police were too quick.

The Chinese leadership is trying to erase the memory of June 4. Is the amnesia progressing?

We have seen the information technology boom over the past 20 years, even in China, which has no internet, only an intranet. Still, people have easier access to information than ever before. The Chinese leadership controls the narrative, but behind the scenes, there is talk everywhere. Freedom of expression is sweet. Once you've tasted it, you don't want to give it up.

What about the young people who have grown up with a very patriotic upbringing?

So did we. We of the Tiananmen generation call ourselves the last generation of patriotism. We grew up in a collectivist environment and were raised with the understanding that, as intellectuals, we had a responsibility to our country. The future of our country was our duty. The younger generation has also heard this, but they also have the internet. They don't care about China's future. They care about self-expression, about individualism, which means they value freedom more than we do. That's why I have high hopes for the younger generation. They will wake up on their own.

Wu'er Kaixi grew up as an Uyghur in Beijing. He was one of the key figures in the student protests on Tiananmen Square. He was able to flee, completed his university studies in the United States, and now lives in Taipei. He is the Deputy General Secretary for the Taiwan Parliamentary Human Rights Commission.