乌克兰与香港、台湾一样，地处世界文明与野蛮力量的交锋前沿。我坚定支持乌克兰人民。2013年11月至2014年2月爆发的“广场革命”，体现了乌克兰人民追求自由与尊严的勇气；我支持《欧盟—乌克兰联系国协定》（EU–Ukraine Association Agreement），支持乌克兰融入欧盟，因为自由的方向，才是人类文明前进的方向。
Standing Shoulder to Shoulder with the Ukrainian People on the Front Line of Defending Freedom
Author: Wang LianjiangEditor: Zhong Ran Managing Editor: Hu Lili Proofreader: Feng Reng Translator: Lyu Feng
Abstract:This essay expresses steadfast support for the Ukrainian people in their struggle for freedom and civilization. Grounded in moral conviction and personal belief, the author has participated directly in solidarity actions and, over a three-month period, personally donated USD 5,000 to support Ukraine, calling on the free world to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Ukrainian people.
Ukraine, like Hong Kong and Taiwan, stands on the front line where civilization confronts barbarism. I firmly support the Ukrainian people. The “Maidan Revolution” that unfolded from November 2013 to February 2014 embodied the Ukrainian people’s courage in pursuing freedom and dignity. I support the EU–Ukraine Association Agreement and Ukraine’s integration into the European Union, because the direction of freedom is the direction in which human civilization must advance.
Today, as the Ukrainian people defend their own freedom, they are in fact defending the freedom of the entire world. They stand in for all who cherish liberty, shielding us from blades and enduring artillery fire. For this, we owe them gratitude and unwavering support. Standing with the Ukrainian people is not only a moral choice but also our responsibility; it aligns with the interests of the American people and with the shared interests of the civilized world as a whole. To retreat from this stance would be a betrayal of the free world—and a betrayal of civilization itself.
On September 4, 2025, at a farewell gathering in Rowland Heights for Atticus Freeman before his return to the Ukrainian battlefield, I learned of the extreme hardships faced by civilians and troops on the front lines. Deeply moved, I decided on the spot to donate USD 5,000 over three months to support the Ukrainian people and military. Thereafter, through the National Committee of the Chinese Democracy Party and The Opposition magazine, I fulfilled this commitment in six separate donations.
May God bless Ukraine, and may the Ukrainian people ultimately attain freedom and dignity.
On October 6, 2025, Atticus Freeman presented me with a gift at Liberty Sculpture Park. The background of the design features the Ukrainian national flag, and the central element is the Coat of Arms of Ukraine.
When a Child Dies on Campus: From Pucheng, Shaanxi to Xincai, Henan—How Local and Central Governments Obscure the Truth
Author: Jie Zhao Editor: Gloria Translator: Min Zhou
Abstract: On January 8, a student at Jinshi Tsinghua Park Senior High School in Xincai County, Henan Province, died of unknown causes. Family members claim the school failed to explain the specifics of the incident and later attempted to move the body, leading to a confrontation with parents. That evening, as families gathered at the school gate to demand justice, they were met with control measures by SWAT teams and security personnel. The incident has sparked external concerns regarding campus safety and information transparency.
On January 8, at Jinshi Tsinghua Park Senior High School in Xincai County, Zhumadian City, Henan Province. Family members reported that a child died under unknown causes while at school, and the specific circumstances are not yet clear.
According to multiple family members and eyewitnesses on the scene, after the incident occurred, the school attempted to contact an ambulance to transport the body away from the school, but they were blocked at the scene by other students’ parents driving trucks, who demanded that the situation not be handled until the family arrived. As of 10:00 PM that night, family members were still gathered at the school gate demanding an explanation, and were also blocked by SWAT teams and security personnel dispatched by the government authorities.
When a child dies inside a school, for a family, the sky has collapsed. But for the government, it seems like just a matter that needs to be “processed.” It is like this in Xincai, Henan, and it was like this in Pucheng, Shaanxi. It is not about clarifying the situation first, or letting the parents see the child first; it is about closing the gates first.
You stand at the school gate, and they tell you to “wait a moment”; you want to enter the dormitory, and they tell you it is “inappropriate”; you want to ask what happened, and they start talking to you about “stability,” “procedure,” and “impact.” To put it bluntly, it is just one sentence: Stop asking. I used to truly believe a saying: “This is a problem with the local government; the Center is good.” But now, I don’t believe it at all. The local government has not been doing this for just a day or two, and it is not just one county or one city. With the same routines time after time, the same cover-ups time after time—if the Central Government really wanted to manage it, would they truly have no way at all? Impossible.
Xi Jinping speaks on television every day, saying things like “putting people at the center” and “life above all else.” But what do I see? I see that the child is dead and the parents are blocked outside the gate; I see that the surveillance cameras always break at the critical moment; I see videos deleted, information blocked, and the matter slowly “disappearing.” If this is also called “life above all,” then I truly do not know what “life at the bottom” is.
Do you say the Central Government doesn’t know what the local authorities are doing? I don’t believe it. They simply choose not to look. As long as the local authorities can suppress the matter, as long as it doesn’t break out to the point that the whole country knows, the Center can continue to hold meetings, give speeches, and film propaganda videos.
The most chilling part is that this logic has already become the norm. Local governments know in their hearts: when something happens, the first thing is not to find the truth, but to find a way to keep the matter from spreading out. And the signal given to them by the Central Government is also very clear: as long as you keep things stable, we will turn a blind eye. That is why they dare to act this way.
I am just an ordinary person.
But as an ordinary person, I have an increasing feeling: in this system, the lives of ordinary people are truly worth nothing. The parents in Xincai, Henan, and the parents in Pucheng, Shaanxi—what they want is actually very simple: it is not to overthrow anyone, it is not to start a revolution, it is just one sentence—how exactly did my child die? Even this small request appears “inopportune.” Sometimes I think, if one day it were me, standing at the school gate, being blocked by a group of people, being asked to “cooperate with the work,” and being advised to “consider the big picture.” At that moment, I might truly understand what “putting people at the center” means. It turns out the meaning is: letting you stand in the center to be crushed.
Ultimately, the problem is not just a certain principal or a certain county head.
The problem is: the Central Government under Xi Jinping’s rule has defaulted to this way of treating ordinary people. As long as this logic remains unchanged, Pucheng will not be the last. Xincai will not be the last, and every one of us ordinary people is just waiting for our turn.
Beneath the Iron Chains Lies a Nation’s Imprisoned Conscience
Abstract:The “Chained Woman” case exposes the systemic atrocities of human trafficking, forced marriage, and power-backed impunity under the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) system. More terrifying than the suffering itself is the suppression and erasure of truth. To remember the Chained Woman is to indict tyranny and to safeguard human conscience.
Author: Chang Kun Editor: Li Congling Translator: Peng Xiaomei
In January 2022, a blurry yet piercing video surfaced in the depths of winter. In the footage, a woman was chained inside a dilapidated shack, her neck constricted by metal, her expression numbs, her clothing thin and inadequate. She had no name, no voice, and scarcely appeared to be treated as a human being at all. Later, people came to call her the “Chained Woman.”
The emergence of the Chained Woman was not the accidental unveiling of darkness, but the failure of an attempted cover-up. She was seen by the world not because the system engaged in self-reflection, but because a video could not be completely erased. For this very reason, she became terrifying—not to the people, but to the rulers.
The iron chain never restrained only her body. That chain links human trafficking, forced marriage, forced childbirth, collusion by grassroots authorities, dereliction of duty and even cover-ups by local governments, and a system that has long placed “stability” above human rights. In a society that genuinely respects the rule of law and human dignity, such scenes could not persist for long; yet under CCP rule, they can become “normal,” so long as they are not allowed to be seen.
What provokes even greater outrage is not the atrocity itself—atrocities are not uncommon in history—but the indifference and arrogance displayed by power after the atrocity was exposed. Repeatedly contradictory official statements, deliberately vague descriptions of facts, censorship and repression of those who asked questions, and threats and silencing of independent investigators all send a clear message to the world: in this system, the truth is more dangerous than the victim.
The Chained Woman was not rescued at the earliest moment; instead, she was immediately classified as a “public opinion risk.” Her suffering was not a priority—what mattered was how to “cool down” the incident, “close the case,” and make it disappear. As a result, what people witnessed was not open and transparent judicial accountability, but the suppression of discussion, not institutional reflection, but the erasure of memory.
The Chained Woman became a symbol because she made countless Chinese people realize that she was not the only one. She may have been merely the one among countless women who were trafficked, imprisoned, forcibly impregnated, and stripped of their right to choose their own lives—captured by a camera. Many more remain bound by chains, without even the chance to be named.
How a regime treats its most vulnerable determines its moral baseline. A system that claims to act in the name of “the people,” yet allows women to be bought, possessed, and consumed like objects, is, at its core, a systemic negation of human dignity. The Chained Woman is not an “accident” of CCP tyranny, but the inevitable outcome of its long-standing logic of operation.
To commemorate the Chained Woman is not to relive sorrow, but to refuse forgetting. Forgetting is precisely the ending that tyranny most desires. As long as people continue to speak of her, as long as she is remembered, that iron chain has not fulfilled its mission.
The Chained Woman should be remembered not as a tamed victim, but as an accusation that cannot be erased. Her existence reminds us that when power is unchecked, when truth is suppressed, and when individual dignity can be sacrificed in exchange for so-called “stability,” anyone can become the other end of the next iron chain.
Iron chains will eventually rust and lies will eventually collapse.But only if people refuse to remain silent.
Guan Yongjie: Do Not Forget the Pioneers of the Democratic Movement, Call on the CCP to Release Qin Yongmin
Author: Guan Yongjie
Editor: Zhong Ran
Editor-in-Chief: Hu Lili
Proofreader: Feng Reng
Translator: Ge Bing
Summary: On January 11, 2026, a rally was held in San Jose, USA, to support Qin Yongmin, calling on the Chinese Communist Party to release prisoners of conscience, and to raise funds for the family of the late political prisoner Wang Sen, emphasizing the ongoing responsibility of overseas individuals to speak out for Chinese political prisoners.
On the afternoon of January 11, 2026, a gathering themed “Support Mr. Qin Yongmin, Call on the Chinese Communist Party to Release Qin Yongmin” was held in front of San Jose City Hall in California, USA. The event was initiated by Li Haifeng, Zhang Yong, and Li Tao of the San Francisco branch of the China Alliance for Democracy and Human Rights, calling on the public to continue paying attention to the plight of China’s prisoners of conscience.
Event host Li Haifeng introduced Qin Yongmin’s personal experiences in his speech. He pointed out that Qin Yongmin has been one of the “long-standing political prisoners” in mainland China since the late 1970s. For advocating democratic principles and exercising basic rights such as freedom of speech, publication, association, and forming political parties, Qin Yongmin has repeatedly faced suppression by authorities over several decades, including summons, residential surveillance, administrative detention, re-education through labor, and multiple prison sentences. Qin Yongmin publicly stated that “China will not democratize, I will not go abroad,” and refused to trade exile for personal freedom. Between 1970 and 2012, over a span of 43 years, Qin Yongmin was arrested or detained 39 times, served a total of 23 years in prison, and is considered one of the political prisoners who served the longest sentences since the era of Deng Xiaoping.
In addition to the organizers, Chinese Democratic Party member Li Shuqing, as well as pro-democracy activists Yuan Qiang, Yang Kun, and others, also attended the rally that day and gave speeches.
Several speakers collectively emphasized in their speeches that over time, some pioneering figures who paid a tremendous price to advance China’s democratic process have gradually faded from public view, but they should not be forgotten. The speakers pointed out that a large number of political prisoners are still being held by the Chinese Communist authorities, and those living overseas in relatively safe environments have a greater responsibility to keep speaking out for them. Participants stated that this solidarity event is not only intended to ensure that the international community remembers Qin Yongmin’s name, but also aims, through public gatherings, to convey a message to political prisoners in China: those in exile abroad have not forgotten them. As several speakers said, ‘If we do not shout for them even in safe places, we would be betraying the pioneers who gave up their freedom and, in some cases, their lives for democracy.’ It is hoped that these voices from overseas can bring even a small measure of spiritual warmth to those trapped behind bars.
At the end of the event, the organizers continued their fundraising campaign of ‘one dollar per person to support the families of domestic prisoners of conscience,’ calling on attendees to provide financial assistance to the family of the late prisoner of conscience Wang Sen. This round of fundraising aimed to raise 30,000 yuan, approximately 4,300 US dollars.
According to reports, Wang Sen had been imprisoned for over ten years cumulatively, and his physical health had seriously deteriorated by the time he was released. In the midst of poverty and illness, he still carried a debt of approximately 30,000 RMB, which remained unpaid until his death. The funds raised are intended to help his family repay this outstanding debt. The organizers stated that information about Wang Sen comes from civil movement veteran Mr. Zhu Yufu, and the public can also verify related information through publicly available channels. Currently, the event organizers have established direct contact with Wang Sen’s family and have promised to transfer the raised funds in full to them after the fundraising campaign ends. At the same time, the organizers welcome donations from all sectors of society and will publicly verify the flow of funds and the verification process to ensure the authenticity and transparency of the entire donation process.
Interviewer: Zhao Jie Editor: Zhang ZhijunManaging Editor: Zhu Yufu Translator: Peng Xiaomei Research & Materials: Lin Xiaolong
Xu Wanping, born in Chongqing in 1961, is one of the important participants in China’s contemporary grassroots political movement. He has spent a total of 23 years in prison. Since the late 1980s, when he began participating in public affairs, he has repeatedly been detained and sentenced for his continued involvement in activities related to democracy and political reform. After 1989, he was sentenced to eight years in prison on charges of “counterrevolutionary propaganda and incitement” for attempting to establish a grassroots political organization. In 1998, he was again subjected to re-education through labor. In 2005, he was sentenced to twelve years in prison for “inciting subversion of state power.” During this period, he was held for long terms within the Chongqing prison system until his release in 2014. In the political and social transformations since China’s Reform and Opening, Xu Wanping’s personal experience is almost a microcosm of the Chinese Communist Party’s system of political control. His oral testimony not only reveals the real living conditions of grassroots political activists under the CCP’s highly centralized and high-pressure stability-maintenance system but also provides rare and valuable firsthand material for understanding how the CCP suppresses dissent and shapes — and restricts — civic consciousness through judicial and ideological means.
Q: Mr. Xu, could you start from the beginning and tell us how you went from being an ordinary worker to embarking on the path of pursuing democracy?
Xu Wanping: I was originally just an ordinary worker, working in a printing factory. At that time, what I saw in society made me dissatisfied: official corruption, rent-seeking power, and advancement based on connections and personal relationships. In the mid-1980s, resistance began to take shape in my mind, and I started writing articles and opinions reflecting social injustice. At first, it was only a psychological struggle. Later, I realized that thinking and writing alone were far from enough, so I began participating in assemblies and activities in public squares.
Q: What exactly did you do in the square?
Xu Wanping: I participated in speeches, wrote slogans and open letters, and helped students distribute supplies. In the square, I expressed dissatisfaction with society and a pursuit of justice. Our actions at the time were mostly symbolic, but every step embodied our longing for social justice.
Q: What were you doing when the June Fourth Incident occurred?
Xu Wanping: On the day of June Fourth, after having dinner with my family, we listened to the evening news, and I clearly realized the authoritarian nature of the CCP. That night, I was deeply shocked, but my resolve to continue resisting became even firmer. I participated in related actions but was soon arrested and detained.
Q: What did you experience in prison?
Xu Wanping: Prison life was extremely harsh. My hands were bound behind my back, I slept on hard iron beds and had almost no freedom. More terrifying than the physical constraints was the psychological pressure: every day we were forced to participate in so-called “political study” and endure constant mental intimidation. Despite this, I never abandoned my beliefs and relied on strong willpower to withstand the suffering.
Q: After your release, you joined the National Preparatory Committee of the China Democracy Party. Was this your first formal involvement in organizational work?
Xu Wanping: Yes. After my release, I contacted friends and joined the China Democracy Party. I began participating in organizational and propaganda work, while continuing to write and compile materials on social conditions, including the economy, diplomacy, and military affairs. The early period after my release involved considerable pressure, but I upheld my principles and refused to compromise.
Q: Facing such a powerful regime, were you ever afraid?
Xu Wanping: During my eight years of imprisonment, I endured many trials, but I made it clear to myself that I would not retreat. After my release, I continued participating in political activities, insisting on writing and organizational work. Threats and pressure were always present, but I remained clear-headed and firm.
Q: Was there severe torture in prison?
Xu Wanping: It was mainly psychological oppression. There were some physical hardships, such as having my hands bound behind my back, but there was no extreme physical torture. The high-pressure environment was primarily psychological intimidation aimed at forcing submission, but I was not broken.
Q: Could you describe the prison living conditions?
Xu Wanping: They were extremely harsh. The beds were hard iron frames with iron bars in the middle, and the space was very cramped. Food was simple, and there was almost no freedom of movement. The prison used these conditions to weaken people’s will, but my beliefs were my greatest support.
Q: How did you maintain your beliefs under such conditions?
Xu Wanping: I always believed that persistence gives meaning. Even in the most difficult environment, I did not give in. Instead, I used time and patience to endure various forms of oppression. Staying alive is capital — and as long as one life, one must persist in justice and belief.
Q: What specific work did you do after joining the preparatory committee?
Xu Wanping: After my release, I participated in organizational preparation work, established contacts in places such as Sichuan, compiled materials, and coordinated actions. The initial stages were extremely difficult, but I adhered to my principles and refused to yield to pressure, gradually playing a role in planning and publicity within the organization.
Q: What conditions did the government propose?
Xu Wanping: The government wanted me to stop participating in certain activities, refrain from speaking publicly, and even made arrangements regarding my personal life. I rejected any interference, but to secure my release, I made some compromises that did not violate my principles.
Q: How did these experiences affect your life and thinking?
Xu Wanping: The June Fourth Incident and my imprisonment gave me a profound understanding of democracy and freedom and strengthened my determination to resist authoritarianism. They made me realize that upholding justice and freedom is a responsibility that every person pursuing democracy must bear.
Q: What achievements have you made in action and writing?
Xu Wanping: I have written many books and articles, compiling materials across many areas of society, including economics, military affairs, and diplomacy. I participated in organizational building, coordinated actions and publicity, recorded history, and promoted democratic development in society.
Q: In summary, what is the most important belief?
Xu Wanping: To live is to uphold one’s beliefs and inherit the spirit of those who sacrificed for freedom and justice. No matter how great the pressure, insisting on democracy and resisting authoritarianism is a responsibility every freedom seeker must shoulder.
Q: Mr. Xu, you mentioned writing and compiling materials. Have these materials had any impact domestically or internationally?
Xu Wanping: Yes. The materials I compiled have been cited by researchers and democracy activists both inside and outside China, especially my analyses of political, economic, and social issues. My articles and books have been published in overseas journals and attracted a certain level of attention, providing reference materials for understanding China’s democratic movement.
Q: What was the greatest difficulty you encountered in organizational building?
Xu Wanping: The greatest difficulties were government repression and internal coordination. Members were frequently monitored or detained, and some were forced to withdraw, which seriously affected organizational development. At the same time, people from different regions and backgrounds had differences in strategy and ideas, which required patience to coordinate.
Q: How did you handle internal disagreements?
Xu Wanping: Mainly through communication and consensus-building. I emphasized the importance of shared goals — advancing democracy and the rule of law. When disagreements were irreconcilable, individual choices were respected, but the organization’s core principles were never compromised.
Q: Have you ever regretted choosing this path?
Xu Wanping: Never. Although the cost has been enormous, it is a path worth taking. Justice and freedom cannot be exchanged for a comfortable life. If one abandons belief, personal dignity and value lose their meaning.
Q: How do you view social indifference and fear?
Xu Wanping: I understand it, though I regret it. Under high-pressure conditions, many people choose silence and self-preservation — this is instinctive. But this is precisely why those who persist in speaking publicly and recording history are so important. We cannot abandon responsibility because of fear.
Q: How did you maintain personal safety after your release?
Xu Wanping: I adopted cautious measures, avoided direct contact with high-risk individuals, and paid close attention to my movements and communication security. I do not fear threats, but I persist in action while protecting myself and my family.
Q: In your view, how should the democratic movement proceed next?
Xu Wanping: Two aspects are essential. First, raising public awareness so that more people understand the importance of freedom and the rule of law. Second, persisting in action, especially promoting reform through peaceful and rational means. History has shown that violence or extremism is detrimental to long-term democratic development.
Q: What overseas experiences are worth learning from?
Xu Wanping: Overseas experience is extremely valuable in organizational building, publicity methods, and legal assistance. Especially important is how to utilize media, social resources, and international public opinion to spread democratic ideals — this offers important lessons for domestic movements.
Q: How do you see the role of modern network technology in democratic movements?
Xu Wanping: Network technology is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it enables faster and broader dissemination of information, which helps educate the public and organize action. On the other hand, it is easily monitored and manipulated. Therefore, its use must be cautious to ensure information security and effective communication.
Q: Have you considered leaving the country to live abroad?
Xu Wanping: I considered it but ultimately decided to stay in China and continue acting. Leaving might be safer, but its impact on advancing democracy would be limited. Staying is how one truly assumes responsibility.
Q: In your view, what qualities must democratic activists possess?
Xu Wanping: Firm belief, patience, courage, and wisdom. Under pressure and threat, one must remain calm, persist long-term, and not compromise due to short-term interests or fear. One must also be good at uniting others and forming collective strength.
Q: What message would you like to leave for the younger generation?
Xu Wanping: Maintain independent thinking and avoid blind conformity. Understand the value of freedom and rights. When encountering injustice, be brave in expression and action, but methods must be rational and peaceful. History needs them to inherit and continue the spirit of justice.
Editor’s Note
In many people’s lives, “history” is nothing more than words in textbooks and dates written on classroom blackboards. For Xu Wanping, history is the cold nights behind iron bars, the icy iron bed inside prison cells, and the heavy breath of each day marked by detention and threats. He began as an ordinary worker, stepped into the streets, into assemblies, wrote slogans, and raised his voice — only to face repeated detention, re-education through labor, and imprisonment, accumulating twenty-three years behind bars. The CCP’s high-pressure authoritarianism fell like relentless winter frost, crushing people until they could barely breathe. Yet he never lowered his head. Through his actions, he showed that power may be infinitely concentrated, dissent may be systematically suppressed, and citizens’ rights may be gradually stripped away — but human will not be extinguished.
This interview records his struggle behind prison walls and within the routines of high-pressure existence. It contains both the thunder of major political events and the silent fear and pain of lonely nights. It reveals the cold cruelty of authoritarian rule, as well as the resilience and wisdom of the individual.
We publish this interview in the hope that readers may see how a real human being lives, thinks, and records under dictatorship — using his own voice to narrate an era obscured by walls and silence. To understand Xu Wanping is to understand an era suppressed by power and enveloped by fear. Preserving these voices is testimony against repression, a call for civil rights, and an important historical record of China’s democratic movement and the China Democracy Party.
