作者：李聪玲 编辑：罗志飞 责任编辑：鲁慧文
2022年10月13日，北京海淀区四通桥上，一位普通的中国公民用最不普通的方式，打破了全国“动态清零”的沉默。他在桥上挂出横幅：“不要核酸要吃饭，不要封锁要自由；不要谎言要尊严，不要文革要改革；不要领袖要选票，不做奴才做公民！”，以及“罢课罢工，罢免独裁国贼习近平”的抗议横幅。”——这一刻，全世界看到了中国还有良知的人，还有不屈的灵魂。
他名叫彭立发，一个在体制外独立思考的普通人。没有显赫背景，没有媒体资源，更没有外部支援。他不是反对国家的人，他只是想争取一个公民应有的权利。他冒着生命危险，仅凭一人之力，向全世界宣告：中国不缺勇士。
然而，就是这一次抗议，让他从人间蒸发。在桥上被捕之后，彭立发便彻底失联。家属无法联系，律师无法会见，公众更无从得知他的命运。近日网传在被秘密羁押两年多之后，“四通桥勇士”彭立发被中共法院以“寻衅滋事罪”与“纵火罪”数罪并罚，判处九年有期徒刑。彭已于两个月前被送入监狱服刑，外界此前一直无法确认他的安危与法律状况。我们无从核实这些消息的真实性，因为他的案件从未公开，他的生死从未得到国家的回应。此种“秘密审判”，是对基本人权的践踏，是对法律的羞辱，更是对人民意志的恐惧。
在一个法治国家，一个人不能因为说了“我要自由”而被消失三年，不能因为抗议封控而被判九年。彭立发的沉默，不是他心甘情愿的，而是一个极权体制对良知的压制。他的横幅，是这个时代最勇敢的文字；他的牺牲，是当代中国最深沉的控诉。我们纪念他，不是为了塑造一个“烈士”形象，而是为了守住公共记忆，让世界不忘这个曾在高楼上呐喊的人。在“举国一致”的虚假合唱中，他是唯一跑调的音符；在沉默的荒原上，他点燃了自由的火种。
彭立发替我们每一个人说出了心底的话。他的诉求，是我们共同的诉求：不要核酸要吃饭——我们不想被无休止的强制检测绑架；不要封锁要自由——我们不愿再经历封小区、封城市、封思想的黑暗；不要谎言要尊严——我们厌倦了每日官媒的歌功颂德；不做奴才做公民——我们渴望参与决策，而不是被奴役。这些话，不激进，不暴力，只是一个现代人对生活的最低要求。但就是这些“最低要求”，却被视为煽动、颠覆、威胁国家安全。这本身，就是一种国家的不安全感，是政权对真实的恐惧。
声援彭立发，是在声援我们自己的未来。如果我们今天选择沉默，明天就轮到我们在铁窗之后被世界遗忘。这个国家不是一个人的国家，而是十四亿人的国家。没有人应该因为言论被囚禁，更不该因为良知被牺牲。 我们要记住他。让“彭立发”这个名字不再只是传说，而成为真相的见证者。每一次提及他，都是在打破官方试图抹去他的努力。我们要传播他的精神。以理性和平的方式，讲述他的故事，转发他的事迹，告诉更多人，在最黑暗的时候，有人曾点亮过一盏灯。我们要站出来。不一定走上桥头，但可以在生活中坚持自由的表达，反对谎言与暴政，支持任何一位敢于说真话的人。我们要记录历史。让真相流传后代，让后人知道，不是所有人都沉默过，不是所有人都顺从过。正是这些勇敢的个人，撑起了民族的脊梁。
历史不会永远沉睡。在今天的中国，言论自由仍是稀缺品，公民权利仍在被侵蚀，但希望却从未消失。彭立发的行动是一次火光，是一次唤醒。他提醒我们：个人并非无力，只要敢于站出来，就有改变世界的可能。他像当年的刘晓波一样，用自己的生命，写下对专制的不屈抗争。他像八九天安门的青年一样，面对枪口也不低头。他不做谎言体系的齿轮，不参与荒诞剧的表演。他的勇气，应当成为我们前行的动力；他的牺牲，应当成为我们抗争的理由；他的失声，应当成为我们呼喊的开始。
我们不确定他现在身处何地，是在牢笼中，还是已被吞没于黑暗中。但我们相信，正义终将到来，自由终会归来。只要还有人记得他，他就未曾真正消失；只要我们还在传递这面横幅上的话语，这个国家就还有希望。愿我们都能成为那个“点灯的人”，哪怕微弱，也能划破夜色；哪怕短暂，也能温暖人心。声援彭立发，就是声援我们心中向往的的自由中国。
Silent Is the Brave, But Conscience Never Dies— In Memory of Sitong Bridge Hero Peng Lifa
By Li Congling | Edited by Luo Zhifei | Chief Editor: Lu Huiwen Translator: Lu Huiwen
On October 13, 2022, on Beijing’s Sitong Bridge in Haidian District, an ordinary Chinese citizen broke the nationwide silence of “zero-COVID” with an extraordinary act. He unfurled two banners that read:
“We want food, not COVID tests;
We want freedom, not lockdowns;
We want truth, not lies;
We want dignity, not humiliation;
We want reform, not a return to Cultural Revolution;
We want votes, not a ruler;
We are citizens, not slaves!”
“Strike from school, strike from work, remove the dictator Xi Jinping!”
At that moment, the world saw that conscience and defiance still lived in China.
His name is Peng Lifa—an independent thinker outside the system. No prestigious background. No media connections. No foreign backing. He was not an enemy of the state, only a citizen demanding the basic rights that every human being deserves. He risked his life to make one truth known to the world: China is not lacking in courage.
But this lone act of protest cost him everything. Peng Lifa disappeared after being arrested on the bridge. His family lost all contact. No lawyer was allowed to visit. The public has been left in the dark about his fate. Recently, rumors have circulated that after more than two years of secret detention, Peng Lifa was sentenced to nine years in prison by a Chinese court on multiple charges, including “picking quarrels and provoking trouble” and “arson.” He was reportedly transferred to prison two months ago. These claims remain unverified, as the trial was held in secret, his case was never publicly disclosed, and the government has remained silent on his status. This kind of “secret trial” is a disgrace to justice, a violation of basic human rights, and a reflection of the regime’s deep fear of its own people.
In any nation governed by law, no one should disappear for three years for saying “I want freedom.” No one should face nine years in prison for protesting lockdowns. Peng Lifa’s silence is not by choice—it is the silencing of conscience by a totalitarian system. His banners were the bravest words of our time. His sacrifice is the most profound indictment of today’s China. We do not commemorate him to build a martyr. We commemorate him to preserve public memory—so the world does not forget the man who cried out from a bridge. In the chorus of orchestrated obedience, he was the lone off-key note. In a land of silence, he sparked the fire of freedom.
Peng Lifa spoke on behalf of us all. His demands are our demands:
• We want food, not endless tests — We are tired of being trapped by mandatory mass testing.
• We want freedom, not lockdowns — We refuse to relive the nightmare of cities and thoughts sealed shut.
• We want truth, not lies — We are weary of the propaganda echoing from state-controlled media.
• We want to be citizens, not slaves — We yearn to participate in governance, not to be ruled blindly.
These words are neither radical nor violent. They are the bare minimum demands of any modern person. Yet these “minimums” are treated as threats to national security. This exposes not the danger of dissent, but the fragility of a regime built on fear.
To stand with Peng Lifa is to stand for our own future. If we choose silence today, it may be our turn tomorrow—forgotten behind prison bars. This country does not belong to one man. It belongs to 1.4 billion people. No one should be imprisoned for speaking. No one should be sacrificed for conscience.
Let us remember him. Let the name Peng Lifa become more than legend—let it become a testament to truth. Every time we say his name, we break the silence imposed by the state. Let us share his story, rationally and peacefully. Retell what he did. Spread his message. Remind others that in the darkest moments, someone lit a torch. Let us take a stand—not necessarily on a bridge, but in daily life, through free speech, rejection of lies, and support for those who dare to speak the truth.
Let us record history—for the generations to come, so they know that not everyone was silent, not everyone was compliant. It is the brave few who form the backbone of a nation.
History will not sleep forever. In China today, freedom of speech remains rare, and citizen rights are under siege—but hope still flickers. Peng Lifa’s act was a flash of fire, a wake-up call. He showed us that one person can still make a difference. Like Liu Xiaobo, he used his life to write a protest against tyranny. Like the youth of Tiananmen in 1989, he stood firm in the face of oppression. He refused to be a cog in the machinery of lies or a player in the theater of absurdity.
His courage must become our motivation. His sacrifice must become our reason to resist. His forced silence must become the beginning of our voices.
We do not know where he is—whether in a prison cell or lost in darkness—but we believe justice will come, and freedom will return. So long as someone remembers him, he has not truly vanished. So long as we continue to speak his words, there is hope for this nation.
May we all become the ones who light a lamp. Even if faint, it can pierce the night. Even if brief, it can warm the heart.
To support Peng Lifa is to support the free China we dream of.
