A few months after I began at the South China Morning Post I went to Beijing to train a photographer and a reporter on the fine art of video and editing. I didn’t end up doing much training due to the reporter deciding she didn’t need me to train her and the photographer being sent off to photograph yet another devastating plant mishap in northern China. So, I mostly just did my day-to-day job of curating video for the news website.
I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. I had never been to a country like China where the government controlled virtually every aspect of everyday life. And, it was the 24th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre, which the government refused to acknowledge ever happened despite reportedly hundreds killed.
So, because it was the anniversary of the massacre, I decided to go to go and see the square. I knew this anniversary would not be as symbolic as the 25th anniversary, but I expected to see banners, maybe people gathering, some chanting or graffiti. At the train station, there was security at each exit. Guards in ill-fitting uniforms gently motioned for me to put my bag through a scanner. I couldn’t tell if the woman watching the monitor was looking at an infrared picture of my bag or watching a show because she seemed so amused by whatever was on the screen before her.
The train was quiet except for a gaggle of women having a lively conversation, no protests here. I got out at Tiananmen Square West and walked towards the front of the Forbidden City. There was a security checkpoint along the way and I slowed down to hand my bag over but the man with dark sunglasses simply waved me through. I continued on and stood right in front of Mao. I pulled out my camera, and began taking photos. I was expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and ask me to stop or ask for identification. No one ever came.
I crossed the street to Tiananmen Square itself. Dozens of marked and unmarked police vans littered the plaza. Numerous plain-clothed policemen who pretended to just hang out, hung out. Families posed for pictures in front of the Chinese flag and the Forbidden City across the street. But no protest signs, no graffiti and no chanting. I walked around the square, maybe in one of the corners? Nothing. I took a few more pictures and thought about how much had happened here 24 years ago. The final picture I took was of a boy holding the Chinese flag, his mother encouraging him to smile as Mao loomed behind him. It was as if nothing happened in Tiananmen Square 24 years ago.
