Under the baobab: From ‘Tank Man’ to Chow Hang Tung, fighters for democracy inspire
A courageous sister and warrior for democracy, Chow Hang Tung, was arrested in Hong Kong this past weekend for “promoting unauthorized assembly.” Her real crime was attempting to light a candle.
June 4 was the 32nd anniversary of the Tiananmen Square uprising and massacre in China. She was attempting to commemorate the event when hundreds, if not thousands, of people were killed in Beijing. Those 1989 demonstrators, led by students, were demanding transparency, that the government publish the incomes of state leaders and their family members, allow privately run newspapers, stop press censorship, increase funding for education and end restrictions on demonstrations. Until last year, Hong Kong was one of the few places in China where such commemorations were allowed. This year the government banned them. Chow, a barrister, is vice chairwoman of the Hong Kong Alliance. She was prepared for the inevitable.
“I am prepared to be arrested. This is how Hong Kong is now. If you fight for democracy under an authoritarian regime, being arrested is unavoidable. Let it come. I am willing to pay the price for fighting for democracy.”
Her arrest brought to mind the image of Tank Man, the iconic hero of the 1989 rebellion. As he stood alone in front of a column of tanks leaving Tiananmen Square, the tank driver attempted to go around him. “Tank Man” moved directly into the tank’s path. He defiantly stood in front of the tanks. Then he climbed up onto the lead tank to speak to the soldiers inside. He was finally pulled away by a colleague. No one knows what happened to him. We don’t even know his name. His courage in the face of such brute force inspired freedom-loving people around the world.
Two years before in 1987, the bicentennial year of our U.S. Constitution, Jo and I were in Hong Kong. We were shooting a John Woo produced and directed film called “A Better Tomorrow II.” It featured Chow Yun-fat, Ti Lung and Leslie Cheung. It was a Chinese gangster flick. I played a cop who was friends with Chow Yun-fat. Our families became friends off screen. We happened to be in town during an international restaurant festival. We ate different cuisines every night, which reflected the rich cultural cornucopia of the city. We learned to eat as we worked, together, respecting and appreciating our similarity and our uniqueness.
At that time, the city was still a democracy — thriving, efficient and vital. My friends tell me it’s not anymore. We live in interesting, complex, and for some, dangerous times. The arc of the moral universe may bend toward justice, but it is a long and treacherous journey. We have just concluded celebrating Asian American Pacific Islander Heritage month. It was enlightening. I learned more about Asian culture during these last weeks than during my previous 70-odd years. Yet during the same time we have been experiencing an increase in hate crimes against our Asian sisters and brothers. They are being threatened, attacked on the street, murdered because of what they look like. In Atlanta we laid flowers and said prayers at the spas, where a murderous fool vented his white supremacist rage on eight people, six of whom were Korean women. We have political leaders blaming the Chinese for the plague that has killed at least 3 million people and maybe maimed millions more. We must remember to distinguish between the actions of governments and the minds of the people.
Sister Chow Hang Tung’s struggle teaches us democracy, any democracy, is fragile, a candle in the wind. Yet her determination and the courage of Tank Man and the millions who fight for democracy show us that a candle can stop a tank column in its tracks.