——参加高智晟雕像揭幕活动有感
作者：冯仍
编辑：李晶 校对：熊辩 翻译：周敏
2026年4月4日，我来到美国南加州自由雕塑公园，参加高智晟律师雕像的揭幕活动。站在现场，看着雕像正式揭幕，我心里有很深的触动。那种触动，不只是因为一尊雕像立起来了，更因为我在现场听见了许多不该被遗忘的声音，也因此对高智晟、对中国、对我们这些流亡海外的人，有了更深的思考。
高智晟曾是中国非常优秀的律师，甚至被评为“全国十佳律师”之一。但后来，因为他替弱势群体发声，替基督徒发声，替维权人士发声，替那些没有声音的人发声，最终被吊销执照，遭受绑架、酷刑和长期打压，最后被强制失踪。一个原本可以在体制中安稳生活的人，最终却落到这样的境地，这本身就已经说明了中共体制的黑暗。
在揭幕现场，美国优先政策研究所中国政策高级主任陶智先生的发言，让我印象很深。他提到，高智晟作为一名基督徒，非常清楚地表明：人的尊严，来自于人是按着上帝的形象被造的。听到这句话时，我心里很受触动。因为我自己也是基督徒，我越来越明白，中共之所以敢任意羞辱人、践踏人、消灭人，正是因为它根本不承认人的尊严来自上帝，也不承认人在政权之上，还有更高的价值和审判。
Piero Tozzi （左）翻译：傅希秋牧师（右）
而高智晟最可贵的地方，就在于他在那个人人都被逼着低头的环境里，仍然守住了这样的底线。他不只是一个勇敢的律师，更是一个不肯向邪恶妥协的人。对今天的中国来说，这样的人太少了，也太珍贵了。
陶智先生还谈到，中共的跨国镇压已经延伸到美国本土，甚至延伸到我们当天所站立的这片土地上。他提到，自由雕塑公园过去曾遭到破坏，陈维明老师的作品和工作室也遭受过袭击。听到这些，我心里既沉重，又愤怒。因为这说明，中共不仅要在中国境内压制不同声音，甚至连人在美国、站在自由土地上，也还想继续恐吓、继续伸手控制。
这让我想到，我们这些流亡海外的人，虽然离开了中国，但并不等于中共的阴影就完全远去了。很多人依然会遭到骚扰、威胁和监视。中共不仅想控制人的身体，也想控制人的记忆，控制人的恐惧，甚至控制人离开中国以后的生活。也正因为如此，在自由雕塑公园为高智晟立像就更有意义。它不只是纪念一位失踪的人权律师，更是在公开宣告：我们不会因恐吓而沉默，不会因威胁而遗忘。
那天站在雕像前，我一直在想，中共为什么会害怕一个律师？后来我越来越明白，它真正害怕的，不只是高智晟这个人，而是他身上那种不肯低头的良知，是他在黑暗中仍然坚持真理、公义和信仰的生命。因为在一个谎言成为常态的制度里，一个坚持说真话的人，本身就是一种控诉。
整个揭幕现场，也让我感到一种特别深的力量。大家聚集在那里，不只是为了看一尊雕像，而是为了共同见证：高智晟没有被彻底抹去，他的名字还在被呼喊，他的精神还在被纪念。这本身就是一种反抗：反抗遗忘，反抗谎言，反抗冷漠，也反抗中共最希望看到的那种结果——让一个人彻底从历史和记忆中消失。
作为一个流亡到美国的中国人，那天站在高智晟雕像前，我也更深地感到，我们今天还能站在自由的土地上说话、纪念、见证，并不是理所当然的。也正因为如此，我们更不能只是把自由当成一种环境，而应当把它当成一种责任。既然今天我们还能发声，就不应沉默；既然今天我们还能记住，就不应遗忘；既然今天我们还能见证，就不应退缩。
这次参加高智晟雕像揭幕活动，对我来说不只是一场活动，更像是一次提醒。提醒我不要忘记中国，不要忘记那些仍然被关押、被监视、被消失的人；也提醒我，不要因为流亡生活的忙碌，就慢慢失去对真相和正义的敏感。
高智晟至今仍然没有自由，但他的名字不该消失。而一个还愿意记住高智晟的中国，才可能还有希望。
At the Unveiling Site, I Rediscovered Gao Zhisheng’s Significance
Reflections on Attending the Unveiling Ceremony of Gao Zhisheng’s Statue
Author: Feng Reng
Editor: Li Jing Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Zhou Min
On April 4, 2026, I traveled to the Liberty Sculpture Park in Southern California to attend the unveiling ceremony of lawyer Gao Zhisheng’s statue. Standing there, watching the statue officially being revealed, I felt a deep stir in my heart. That stirring was not just because a statue had been erected, but because I heard many voices on-site that should not be forgotten. It led me to deeper reflections on Gao Zhisheng, on China, and on those of us living in exile.
Gao Zhisheng was once an exceptionally talented lawyer in China, even named one of the “Top Ten National Lawyers.” However, because he spoke up for marginalized groups, for Christians, for human rights defenders, and for those without a voice, he eventually had his license revoked and suffered kidnapping, torture, and long-term suppression, eventually becoming a victim of enforced disappearance. That a man who could have lived a stable life within the system ended up in such a state is, in itself, an indictment of the darkness of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) regime.
At the unveiling, the speech by Mr. Piero Tozzi, Senior Director of the China Policy Initiative at the America First Policy Institute, left a deep impression on me. He mentioned that as a Christian, Gao Zhisheng clearly understood that human dignity stems from the fact that humans are created in the image of God. Hearing these words touched me profoundly. As a Christian myself, I have come to understand more clearly that the reason the CCP dares to arbitrarily humiliate, trample, and eliminate people is precisely because it does not recognize that human dignity comes from God, nor does it acknowledge that there are values and a judgment higher than the state.
Piero Tozzi (Left) | Translation: Pastor Bob Fu (Right)
Gao Zhisheng’s most precious quality lies in the fact that, in an environment where everyone is forced to bow their heads, he maintained such a bottom line. He is not just a brave lawyer, but a man who refuses to compromise with evil. For today’s China, such people are far too few and far too precious.
Mr. Tozzi also discussed how the CCP’s transnational repression has extended to American soil—even to the very ground we stood on that day. He mentioned that the Liberty Sculpture Park has been vandalized in the past, and artist Chen Weiming’s works and studio have been attacked. Hearing this, I felt both heavy-hearted and angry. It proves that the CCP not only wants to suppress dissenting voices within China but even attempts to continue its intimidation and control over people standing on the soil of freedom in America.
This made me realize that for those of us in exile, although we have left China, it does not mean the CCP’s shadow has completely vanished. Many are still subjected to harassment, threats, and surveillance. The CCP seeks not only to control people’s bodies but also their memories, their fears, and even their lives after leaving China. Because of this, erecting a statue for Gao Zhisheng at the Liberty Sculpture Park is even more significant. It is not just a commemoration of a disappeared human rights lawyer; it is a public declaration: we will not be silenced by intimidation, nor will we forget because of threats.
Standing before the statue that day, I kept wondering: Why is the CCP so afraid of a lawyer? I eventually understood that what they truly fear is not just Gao Zhisheng the individual, but the unyielding conscience he embodies—his life that persists in truth, justice, and faith amidst the darkness. In a system where lies are the norm, a person who insists on speaking the truth is, in himself, an accusation.
The entire unveiling scene gave me a sense of particularly deep strength. People gathered there not just to see a statue, but to witness together: Gao Zhisheng has not been completely erased. His name is still being called; his spirit is still being commemorated. This is a form of resistance in itself: resistance against forgetting, against lies, against indifference, and against the very outcome the CCP desires most—to make a person vanish entirely from history and memory.
As a Chinese person living in exile in the United States, standing before Gao Zhisheng’s statue that day, I felt more deeply that our ability to speak, commemorate, and witness on free soil is not something to be taken for granted. Because of this, we must not treat freedom merely as an environment, but as a responsibility. Since we can still speak today, we must not remain silent; since we can still remember, we must not forget; since we can still witness, we must not shrink back.
Attending this unveiling ceremony was more than just an event for me; it was a reminder. It reminded me not to forget China, not to forget those who are still imprisoned, monitored, or disappeared. It also reminded me not to let the busyness of life in exile slowly dull my sensitivity to truth and justice.
Gao Zhisheng is still not free, but his name must not disappear.
Only a China that is still willing to remember Gao Zhisheng can still have hope.
