八九、六四、二十！

八九、六四、二十！


「...「六四事件」前，《文匯報》的社論開天窗，只刊出「痛心疾首」 四個大字。李子誦先生當年主理的文匯報開了天窗﹐今天我東施效顰﹐Imitation is the sincerest form of Flattery﹐模仿就是最由衷的擦鞋!
......................................開了天窗................................開了天窗
......................................開了天窗................................開了天窗
......................................開了天窗................................開了天窗!


二十年了﹐還是一句 。。。。。。。。。。。。「無語問蒼天！」 」


二十年過去了！我是還留著留著 。。。。。。。




兩本收藏了廿年的書，還是完好無缺，但不免紙質已經開始發黃了！


右邊的『九十年代』雜誌 89/6月號，是六月六日在天地圖書購買，十五元正，存有發票證明。


左邊的『悲壯的民運』圖片集 89/6 第三次版，是由當年查良鏞先生仍然執掌的明報編印，六月廿八日在天地圖書購買，二十元正，存有發票證明。


血染的風采


也許我告別將不再回來，你是否理解？

你是否明白？也許我倒下將不再起來，

你是否還要永久的期待？

如果是這樣，你不要悲哀，

共和國的旗幟上 有我們血染的風采。

如果是這樣，你不要悲哀，

共和國的旗幟上 有我們血染的風采。


也許我的眼睛再不能睜開，

你是否理解我沉默的情懷？

也許我倒下再不能醒來，

你是否相信我化做了山脈？

如果是這樣，你不要悲哀，

共和國的土壤裡 有我們付出的愛。

如果是這樣，你不要悲哀，

共和國的土壤裡 有我們付出的愛。

血染的風采 。。。。。。。。。。


補記：（圖片來源：明報網）
在維園的紀念六四集會，司徒華先生宣報，有超過十五萬人參加，破了歷年的記錄。


上圖：一九九零年的六四維園




中圖：一九九九年的六四維園





下圖：二零零四年的六四維園

二零零九年的六四維園

天安門：值得記住的日子
【明報特譯】20年前的6月4日，不少外國傳媒記者在天安門廣場採訪，本文作者 Dan Southerland 當時正於北京採訪。 美國《華盛頓郵報》
6月2日評論版文章 Dan Southerland

兩年前我碰上一名到美國念研究院的中國學生。我說「六四」時我身處北京，她反問：「你在說什麼？」這下我才察覺到「六四」對她毫無意義。這也難怪，20年前解放軍鎮壓後，所有教科書和官方媒體對六四慘案隻字不提，但我是沒可能忘記的。我是當年《華盛頓郵報》北京分社的主管，帶著一班說會中文的美國年輕記者，自89年4月中開始一直緊貼學生示威，嘗試為中國政府高層的權力鬥爭理出個頭緒來。

印象最深是北京市民受到學生對政治改革、言論自由和反官倒的訴求激勵，言論突然變得大膽。我眼中的共產黨支持者說出了心底話，過去一直沉默的群眾在街頭上辯論政治。5月初，中國記者聯署要求自由報道天安門示威，各大官方報的記者，包括《人民日報》的，也有參加。他們的口號是：「不要強迫我說謊。」

那段歷史永不能忘
在那短暫的日子裏，中國記者可以持平地報道學生示威，但到5月20日實施戒嚴、解放軍入城後，新聞自由戛然而止。北京市民自發設路障擋住解放軍，但到6月3日晚，裝甲運兵車和坦克強行開進天安門廣場，士兵開機關槍壓鎮示威。當晚的死傷人數是中國傳媒的禁忌。站在學生一方、曾經准許記者到手術室拍攝傷員的醫生護士，及後因政治壓力不敢再多談。在離天安門廣場不遠的一間醫院，一名醫生帶我去看一個臨時停屍間，那裏放約20具屍體。該名醫生之後因此事被處分。

一名我曾視為朋友的中國記者說，官方少於300人死亡的說法是對的，死者中還有大量的解放軍和公安，後來我才從其同事口中知道他是替國安工作的。綜合不同新聞工作者的筆記，我估計實際的死亡人數至少700，絕大部分死的是普通北京市民。中國政府能把這件大慘案隱瞞這麼多年，實在不可思議，但對長期監察中國政府如何箝制公民自由的人，這並不稀奇。

中國政府一直持續地恐嚇記者、封鎖網站、干擾外國新聞機構廣播；中國是最多記者和網上異見人士被囚的地方。儘管中國的年輕人很熱中上網，但所有中國搜尋網、聊天室和博客網站，以至互聯網服務供應商，都有安裝過濾軟件，把不斷更新的政治敏感詞彙過濾掉。中國的審查是多重的，有時嚴厲有時精微，有些事容許討論，天安門事件則不容討論。互聯網服務供應商和網吧負責人要為用戶在網上的留言負責，那條不能踰越的界線不斷改變，無所適從的公民便傾向於自我審查。

好消息是，封鎖並非滴水不漏。在自由亞洲電台的節目上，也有對事件有點了解的中國青年來電希望知道更多。我有幾位同事是89年的學生，他們比我知道得多。他們的存在不斷提醒我那段永不能忘的歷史。

自由亞洲電台執行總編輯，1985至1990年曾任《華盛頓郵報》北京分社主管


Tiananmen: Days to Remember - By Dan Southerland
《Wahshington Post Tuesday, June 2, 2009》Two years ago I met a Chinese student who was entering graduate school in the United States. I told her I had been in Beijing during "6-4," the Chinese shorthand for the massacre of June 4, 1989.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

At first I thought she might not have understood my Chinese, but it soon became clear that "June 4" meant nothing to her. I probably shouldn't have been surprised.

In the 20 years since that day in 1989 when Chinese troops opened fire on unarmed civilians near Tiananmen Square, Chinese censors have managed to erase all mention of that tragedy from the country's textbooks and state-run media.

But for me, Tiananmen is impossible to forget. As Beijing bureau chief for The Post, I covered the student demonstrations that began in mid-April, tried to track a murky power struggle among top Chinese leaders and managed a small team of young, Chinese-speaking American reporters.

What I remember best was the sudden openness of many Beijing citizens of all professions. They were inspired by throngs of students calling for political reform, media freedom and an end to "official profiteering."

People I believed to be Communist Party supporters were suddenly telling me what they really thought. Some who had been silent in the past even debated politics on street corners.

In early May, Chinese journalists petitioned for the right to report openly on the Tiananmen protests, which on May 17 swelled to more than a million people marching in the capital. Journalists from all the leading Chinese newspapers, including the People's Daily, the mouthpiece of the Communist Party, joined in. Their slogan was "Don't force us to lie."

For a brief period, Chinese journalists were allowed to report objectively on the student protests. But this press freedom was short-lived and ended May 20 with the imposition of martial law and the entry of the People's Liberation Army into Beijing.

At first, Beijing residents manning makeshift barriers blocked the troops. But late on the evening of June 3, tanks, armored personnel carriers and soldiers firing automatic weapons broke through to the square.

The death toll quickly became a taboo subject for Chinese media.

Chinese doctors and nurses who had openly sided with students on the square, and who had allowed reporters into operating rooms to view the wounded, came under pressure to conceal casualty figures.

One brave doctor at a hospital not far from Tiananmen Square led me and a colleague to a makeshift morgue, where we saw some 20 bullet-riddled bodies laid out on a cement floor. I later learned that the doctor was "disciplined" for allowing us to view that scene.

A Chinese journalist I considered a friend tried to convince me that government estimates of fewer than 300 killed were correct and that these included a large number of military and police casualties. I later learned from colleagues of his that this journalist was working for state security.

After comparing notes with others, my guess was that the actual death toll was at least 700, and that most of those killed were ordinary Beijing residents.

It's almost incredible that the Chinese government has succeeded for so long in covering up a tragedy of this magnitude.

But for those who closely monitor the continued repression of civil liberties in China -- and the government's stranglehold on news deemed "sensitive" -- it's not surprising.

Chinese authorities continue to intimidate reporters, block Web sites and jam broadcasts of outside news organizations. China is the world's leading jailer of journalists and cyber-dissidents.

Chinese youths are among the most Web-savvy in the world. But Chinese search engines, chat and blog applications, as well as Internet service providers, are equipped with filters that block out certain keywords incorporated in a blacklist that is continually updated.

China's censorship is multipronged, sometimes heavy-handed and sometimes sophisticated, allowing debate on some issues and shutting it down on others, such as Tiananmen.

Censors hold online service providers and Internet cafe owners responsible for the content that users read and post. A small blogging service will usually err on the side of caution rather than lose its license because of a debate about June 4.

Lines that cannot be crossed shift from time to time, leaving citizens uncertain and therefore prone to self-censorship.

The good news is that the blackout isn't complete. We know from Radio Free Asia's call-in shows that some younger Chinese know just enough about Tiananmen to want to learn more.

I work with several Chinese broadcasters who were students in Beijing on June 4. Many of them saw more than I did. And they are here to remind me -- and many Chinese -- of a history we should never forget.

The writer is executive editor of the congressionally funded network Radio Free Asia. He was chief of The Post's Beijing bureau from 1985 to 1990.


伸延閱覽：
天安門：值得記住的日子 Dan Southerland 明報特譯
Dan Southerland - Tiananmen: Days to Remember Wahshington Post



自06年11月開blog，我過去每年六月四日都未有忘記：
07年六四，
08年六四，