Looking Up at the Starry Sky: The Inauguration Ceremony of the Gao Zhisheng Statue
Photojournalist: Guan Yongjie
Editor: Zhong Ran Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Zhou Min
Abstract: As Gao Zhisheng’s enforced disappearance exceeds eight and a half years, Chen Weiming’s team held the inauguration and unveiling of the statue Looking Up at the Starry Sky at the Liberty Sculpture Park in California to show solidarity with his plight and call for continued international attention.
Gao Zhisheng, a renowned Chinese human rights lawyer, is famous for his long-term defense of marginalized groups and his representation in sensitive legal cases. He was once named one of the “Top Ten Lawyers in the Country” by the Chinese Ministry of Justice and official media. Subsequently, due to his rights defense activities and criticism of the system, he suffered repeated imprisonment and persecution.
Since August 13, 2017, Gao Zhisheng has been in a state of “enforced disappearance,” with no news of his whereabouts to this day. As of March 2026, he has been forcibly disappeared for over 3,100 days (approximately eight and a half years).
On April 4, 2026, the sculpture titled Looking Up at the Starry Sky—Gao Zhisheng, created by artist Chen Weiming and his team, held its inauguration ceremony at the Liberty Sculpture Park in California.
與會嘉賓及高智晟律師的妻子耿和，在美國國歌奏響時肅立，現場莊嚴肅穆。
The attending guests and Geng He, the wife of Lawyer Gao Zhisheng, stood solemnly as the American national anthem was played; the scene was grave and respectful.
The unveiling ceremony of the statue Looking Up at the Starry Sky—Gao Zhisheng.
From left to right: Pastor Bob Fu (Fu Xiqiu), Piero Tozzi (Deputy Director of the Congressional-Executive Commission on China), Che Ahn (Candidate for Governor of California), Zhou Fengsuo, Geng He, and Eddie Romero (Pastor and Vietnam War Veteran).
From left to right: Artist Chen Weiming, Fang Zheng, Pastor Bob Fu (Fu Xiqiu), Piero Tozzi, Che Ahn, Geng He, Zhou Fengsuo, Eddie Romero, (Event Host) Li Fei, and Feng Congde.
印第安酋長「瘋馬」的曾孫女伊麗莎白女士，為雕像進行傳統原住民祈禱儀式。
Ms. Elizabeth, the great-granddaughter of the Indian Chief “Crazy Horse,” performs a traditional Indigenous prayer ceremony for the statue.
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公園對外發言人Lise女士代表主辦方致歡迎詞。
Ms. Lise, the public spokesperson for the park, delivered the welcoming speech on behalf of the organizers.
Piero Tozzi (Deputy Director of the Congressional-Executive Commission on China) delivered a speech titled Transnational Repression by the Chinese Communist Party Against American Citizens on U.S. Soil, translated by Pastor Bob Fu (Journalist summary):
I thank everyone for gathering to commemorate Gao Zhisheng and wish to pay my respects to Geng He. Gao Zhisheng, rooted in his faith, steadfastly defended human rights and the rule of law. The unveiling of the statue created by Chen Weiming today symbolizes the pursuit of freedom and the struggle against tyranny. However, the influence of the Chinese Communist Party and Xi Jinping has extended into the United States, conducting suppression and harassment against dissidents. In the face of transnational repression, we must safeguard freedom of speech and the rule of law, expose the truth, and remember history. Regardless of our origins, we should cherish freedom and state firmly on this land: we are all Americans.
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Che Ahn（加州州長候選人）演講，傅希秋牧師担任翻譯。
Pastor Che Ahn, candidate for Governor of California, delivers a speech with Pastor Bob Fu serving as his translator.
耿和演講，回憶與高智晟生活中的點滴，並向雕像獻花。
Geng He delivers a speech, sharing memories of her life with Gao Zhisheng and laying flowers at the statue
耿陸弢演唱歌曲《深淵中的守望者》。歌曲由一位不願具名的人士創作，獻給高智晟及所有堅守良知的人。
Geng Lutao performs the song ‘Watcher in the Abyss.’ The song was composed by an anonymous individual and is dedicated to Gao Zhisheng and all those who stand firm in their conscience.
Eddie Romero（牧師、越戰退伍軍人）演講。
A speech by Eddie Romero, pastor and Vietnam War veteran.
國際特赦組織代表宣讀總部聲明。
A representative from Amnesty International reads a statement from the organization’s headquarters.
活動主持人：李菲、封從德
Event Hosts: Li Fei and Feng Congde
周鋒鎖先生發言。
Remarks by Mr. Zhou Fengsuo.
秦兵律師發言。
Remarks by Attorney Qin Bing.
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方政先生發言。
Remarks by Mr. Fang Zheng.
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吳英年先生發言。
Remarks by Mr. Wu Yingnian.
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台灣八炯發言。
Remarks by Ba Jiong (Taiwan).
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朱虞夫先生發言。
Remarks by Mr. Zhu Yufu.
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金秀紅女士發言。
Remarks by Ms. Jin Xiuhong.
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金岩（代表“六·四”紀念館）發言。
Remarks by Jin Yan (representing the June 4th Memorial Museum).
周雲龍（代表中國民主黨）發言，郭斌翻譯。
Remarks by Zhou Yunlong (representing the China Democracy Party), translated by Guo Bin.
Mourning the Victims of Communism on Qingming Festival: Do Not Forget the Crimes of Communist Regimes
Journalist: Guan Yongjie
Editor: Zhong Ran Proofreader: Cheng Xiaoxiao Translator: Zhou Min
Abstract: On the occasion of the Qingming Festival, democracy and human rights groups held a memorial activity in San Jose to remember the victims of past political movements. The event emphasized remembering history, reflecting on tragedy, focusing on the fate of ordinary individuals and human rights issues, and calling for the prevention of such tragedies from repeating.
On the occasion of the Qingming Festival, April 5, 2026, the China Democracy & Human Rights Alliance held a memorial activity at the San Jose City Hall Plaza to mourn the lives lost during China’s various historical political movements and social policies, calling for the remembrance of history and reflection on tragedy.
Event organizer Li Haifeng stated in his opening speech that this gathering was not only to commemorate specific well-known victims, but more importantly, to mourn those “nameless and unremembered” ordinary people. Throughout China’s long history of political movements, a vast number of individuals disappeared silently; their encounters were not recorded, nor were they recognized by society. He cited the experiences of historical figures such as Nie Er, Tian Han, Peng Dehuai, and Liu Shaoqi during political movements, while emphasizing that compared to these well-known figures, the massive number of ordinary victims deserves even more attention.
Li Haifeng also recounted a story derived from Picking Up Paper to Save Her Husband: a teacher was sentenced for remarks made in class, and his wife spent years picking up waste paper to find evidence to prove his innocence, eventually perishing with their child in a fire. This tragedy was used to symbolize the absurdity and cruelty of individual fates within that era. The speech also mentioned that during the Cultural Revolution, a large number of intellectuals and ordinary citizens suffered persecution, including torture, long-term imprisonment, and mental humiliation. Some chose to end their own lives because they could not bear the pressure, such as Lao She, who committed suicide by drowning in a lake during the Cultural Revolution.
Historically, communist countries under planned economic models led to several major famines across multiple nations, resulting in the starvation of tens of millions of people. To maintain absolute ideological unity, millions were also framed and killed during numerous political purges throughout history. Communist regimes have long suppressed individual freedom, destroyed moral and social relationships, and demolished historical and cultural heritage. Some viewpoints suggest that communism in practice has contributed almost nothing to human civilization, while the historical controversies caused by its negative impacts continue to this day.
Hui Rutao, a speaker from Shandong, recalled the extreme implementation of family planning policies in certain regions during the 1990s. He claimed that in some counties, “Hundred Days Without Children” campaigns occurred, where forced inductions were performed on pregnant women, leading to serious humanitarian issues including the deaths of newborns.
He Dongling pointed out in her speech that the significance of mourning historical victims lies in preventing tragedies from repeating. She emphasized that regardless of how times change, upholding basic human dignity and freedom should become a social consensus.
Zhu Ping reviewed China’s many modern political movements from a broader perspective, arguing that the recurring phenomena of upheaval and purging in history warrant vigilance. He mentioned historical events including the Cultural Revolution, the Great Leap Forward, and the June Fourth Incident, calling for the public to maintain a continuous focus on historical memory.
Speaker Zhang Zhenzhen, born in 1989, shared her personal experience. She stated that she grew up within the Chinese education system and initially believed the history textbooks without doubt, until she accessed the internet and suddenly discovered that the year she was born was actually a sensitive year in public discussion. She found that certain historical events were deliberately avoided in public narratives or contained obvious deletions and alterations everywhere. She believes that the expansion of channels for obtaining information has allowed more young people to begin re-examining history and gradually form the ability to think independently. At the same time, she expressed her respect for those who still insist on speaking out within Chinese society.
Zhang Yong reviewed political movements since the 20th century from an ideological perspective, mentioning the influence of everything from the purges of the Soviet era to China’s various movements. Combining his own family history, he recounted how a relative was killed during a political purge and pointed out the profound impact of history on individual families. He also mentioned historical events including the Three-Anti and Five-Anti Campaigns, the Great Purge, and the Khmer Rouge period in Cambodia, stating that the experiences of different countries are all worthy of reflection.
The event concluded with collective mourning and speeches. Participants generally agreed that the memory of history is not only respect for the deceased but also a warning for the future. During this traditional moment of remembrance, the Qingming Festival, the event emphasized the core theme of “Do not forget history, avoid repetition,” calling for society to maintain continuous attention to individual fates and human rights issues within historical events.
Looking Up at the Starry Sky: Persisting in Freedom and Faith Under the Shadow of Autocracy
Author: Xu Yuncai (Member of the China Democracy Party)
Editor: Feng Reng Proofreader: Feng Reng Translator: Zhou Min
On April 4, 2026, at the Liberty Sculpture Park in the California desert, I participated in the unveiling ceremony of the statue of Lawyer Gao Zhisheng. Under the scorching sun, with wind and sand swirling, a red carpet extended to the front of the statue. The crowd was silent and solemn, as a giant head looked up at the sky—that was not only the image of one person, but more like a questioning of this era: when justice is suppressed, can a person still insist on speaking out for the truth?
The existence of Gao Zhisheng is itself a kind of interrogation of the one-party autocratic system. In a system where power overrides the law, “lawyer” should originally be a profession for maintaining justice, yet it is forced to become one of the roles with the highest risk. When the law no longer restrains power but instead serves power, so-called “rule of law” is left only with form. Everything encountered by Gao Zhisheng is not an individual case, but the inevitable result of the system’s operation.
This is precisely the core logic of one-party autocracy: power is not restricted, truth cannot be made public, and individuals find it difficult to protect themselves. Under such a structure, human rights are no longer rights, but favors that can be stripped away at any time; faith is no longer a free choice, but an object that is strictly limited or even suffers suppression. So-called “stability” is often built upon suppression and fear.
Therefore, this statue standing in the desert is not just to commemorate one person, but is a kind of public resistance—resistance against forgetting, resistance against fear. In an environment where information is filtered and voices are lowered, remembering itself becomes a kind of action.
The event site gathered personages from different backgrounds, including artists, seniors who have long devoted themselves to the democracy movement, personages from various circles concerned with Chinese human rights issues, as well as ordinary participants like me. On that day, more than three hundred freedom-loving democracy activists arrived. People came from different places, yet here they formed a clear consensus: if one does not raise questions against autocracy, then oppression will only continue to exist.
I communicated with several seniors who have long participated in the democracy movement; their expressions were not intense, yet were extremely firm. They know deeply that what a totalitarian system relies on most is not just coercive force, but also people’s silence and habit. When people become accustomed to not speaking out, accustomed to avoiding reality, power then no longer needs to disguise itself. Precisely because of this, speaking out itself has already constituted a kind of challenge to the system.
Standing before the statue, I also began to re-understand the meaning of “participation.” Participation does not mean becoming some kind of symbol, but rather, after seeing reality clearly, no longer choosing to avoid it. In an environment where information has been limited for a long time, being able to walk out, see different voices, and be willing to express one’s own judgment, itself means crossing an invisible boundary.
Perhaps individual strength is limited, but totalitarianism is never overthrown in a single instant; rather, it is weakened amidst tiny resistances time and time again. Every public expression is a breaking of the single narrative; every record and dissemination is a restoration of covered-up history.
Here, “faith” also presents a more realistic meaning. It is not just persistence at the religious level, but even more a kind of ability to still not give up judgment and not give up conscience under pressure. In an environment lacking systemic guarantees, faith often becomes a person’s final support, and precisely because of this, it becomes the part that totalitarianism most attempts to control.
When the ceremony ended and the crowd dispersed, the desert returned to silence. The statue still stands there, looking up at the starry sky. It is not just commemorating the past, but even more like reminding the future: when power attempts to define everything, are there still people willing to insist on telling the truth?
Perhaps reality is still complex, but as long as there are still people who refuse to forget, refuse silence, and refuse fear, then change will not completely lose its possibility.
In this era, refusing silence is itself a kind of resistance.
Image: The author participating in the unveiling ceremony of the Gao Zhisheng statue at the Liberty Sculpture Park in California (April 4, 2026).
Why I Hold a Sign in the United States to Resist the CCP
Author: Bu Qingsong (Member of the China Democracy & Human Rights Alliance)
Editor: Feng Reng Proofreader: Feng Reng Translator: Zhou Min
On June 29, 2025, I stood on the streets of Los Angeles, USA, and held up a sign that read—Eliminate the CCP.
Someone asked me, why do this? Someone also questioned, is this a performance, is this a show, does it have meaning? But to me, this is not a piece of performance art; it is an extremely serious matter of great significance, even symbolizing my rebirth. Someone said, why is it in the United States?
The answer is very simple: because in China, this thing absolutely could not happen; or once it happened, it would mean I would very likely be eliminated by the CCP. In Mainland CCP [territory], do not even speak of publicly holding a sign to oppose the CCP; even if you just hold a piece of blank white paper, you might be taken away, detained, sentenced, or “disappeared.”
On October 13, 2022, at noon, a protester at Sitong Bridge in the Haidian District of Beijing hung two banners with red characters on a white background: “Against dictatorship, against autocracy,” “Want food, want freedom, want the vote.” This brave warrior is named Peng Zaizhou. Subsequently, he was handcuffed and taken away. After that, his public posts on Twitter and other network platforms were deleted. Later, we could only learn news of him through overseas media. On October 12, 2023, Voice of America released an exclusive report stating that, confirmed through information sources within China, Peng Lifa is still being detained by authorities at an unknown location, and his direct and collateral family members have also received varying degrees of surveillance. As of January 7, 2024, on the occasion of Peng Lifa’s 50th birthday, he was still being held in custody by Chinese authorities. Meanwhile, in Chinese mainland map software such as Baidu Maps and Amap, information on “Sitong Bridge” can no longer be searched.
On November 27, 2022, Zhang Junjie, a freshman at the Central University of Finance and Economics in Beijing, alone held up a white paper in front of the main teaching building and was photographed by a security guard. “About five minutes later, some school leaders, professors, etc., rushed over, told me not to do this thing, and after that, they forced me into a meeting room.” The school then notified Zhang Junjie’s father to take him home. After returning to his hometown in Nantong, Jiangsu, his father forcibly took away his mobile phone and computer. Two days after arriving home, Zhang Junjie welcomed his 18th birthday. Just after his birthday, his father, under the guise of testing and quarantine, deceived him into the psychiatric department of the Nantong Fourth People’s Hospital. Zhang Junjie’s hands and feet were tied up, he was pushed into a ward, and he was locked in the psychiatric ward for nearly half a month.
I want to say, under the rule of the CCP, expression itself is a kind of crime, and expression resisting the CCP is a crime on top of a crime, unforgivable. I once lived in that kind of environment; when I had not awakened, I was accustomed to this, and might even have been encouraged by that environment; but after I came to the United States and saw freedom, only then did I truly feel the oppression under that shadow of terror, and I shudder for those people who are deep in the oppression of terror but do not know it themselves.
In the United States, only then can I hold up a sign resisting the CCP and freely express my own viewpoints. Here, I also see that American citizens can freely express viewpoints: they can criticize the President, they can protest the government, and they will not lose their freedom because of it. Therefore, I hold a sign in the United States to resist the CCP, as an ordinary person, freely expressing my own viewpoints.
Some people sneer at holding signs, saying it is very low-level. I, however, precisely believe that holding a sign is the cornerstone of true democracy, and is also the simplest, most direct, and most threshold-free democratic act, one of the most important democratic expressions.
I am an ordinary person, and most people are also ordinary people. We want to express, want to participate in democratic activities, but do not always know how to do it, how to do it correctly, or how to do it appropriately. I do not learn from the CCP; I am not going to engage in that so-called “revolution,” which is one of the most evil and violent means of communism.
And holding a sign? It does not need organization, does not need resources, does not need the right to speak; you only need a piece of cardboard, a pen, and the will to express. We peacefully hold it, peacefully stand on the street, let people coming and going see, and even hear our voices, hear our expression. One person standing out, holding up a sign, might look insignificant, but it represents a kind of signal: I do not agree. These four words have huge significance for the person holding the sign and for the people seeing the sign.
Someone said, are you holding the sign for a certain purpose, such as status, asylum, or attention? I do not avoid this question. Any person making a public political expression must be related to their own interests. If a matter has absolutely nothing to do with me, why should I bear the risk to do it? Even if you are in the United States, holding up a sign resisting the CCP still requires bearing risks. In 2019, Luo Daiqing, an international student at the University of Minnesota, was arrested upon returning to China because of posting messages abroad. People who participated in the White Paper Movement were still summoned after going abroad, and their assets within the country might also be frozen.
And the reason I stand out is that I personally experienced the oppression and restrictions brought by that environment. Just posting a paragraph on Weibo scolding the China Securities Regulatory Commission will result in police coming to intimidate you; just because your remarks did not maintain consistency with the CCP’s positive propaganda of the stock market, police might come to find you. So holding a sign is not only related to my past interests, but even more related to my future interests. Of course I must hold it.
Someone says, holding a sign is useless. But this way of speaking is, in essence, a kind of cynicism—it denies the meaning of individual action and also denies the possibility of change. In fact, holding a sign is not only useful, but in today’s era, its influence far exceeds imagination. In a world where information flows highly, a photo or a video can quickly spread to the globe. Our expression overseas has the chance to be seen by people inside the country, and also has the chance to be noticed by the international community.
And the more important meaning of holding a sign lies in: letting more people realize—someone is speaking out; letting silent people see—expression is possible; and also letting the world understand—the facts are not as the CCP narrates them. These seemingly tiny, even seemingly useless actions, accumulated over the long term, will explode with huge energy.
So I will continue to hold the sign. My dream is: if one day, I can on the streets of Mainland China publicly hold up a sign, freely expressing my own viewpoints without needing to worry about being taken away. That day, if it truly arrives, I will no longer fear returning to China.
Then, why resist the CCP, why “eliminate the CCP”? This is the most fundamental question. I oppose the CCP because this political party was established upon lies, once brought huge pain to Chinese people, and even until today continues to do evil.
Those lies are so absurd and terrible. The CCP says Mao Zedong is China’s savior; but the fact is, after Mao Zedong took power, he became the de facto Emperor of China, caused the Great Famine of 1959, and cruelly launched the Cultural Revolution. The Chinese people who died because of this reached 15 million to 55 million; this is one of the most serious man-made disasters in human history.
The CCP says Deng Xiaoping is the chief architect of reform and brought China’s rebirth. But the fact is, Deng Xiaoping suppressed the 1989 democratic “June Fourth” movement, ruining the process of China’s democratization. The cruel suppression at Tiananmen Square caused a large number of deaths and injuries. In 2014, US White House declassified documents showed that approximately 10,454 people died and 40,000 people were injured; this report cited Zhongnanhai internal documents provided by sources from the martial law troops.
And the virus lies and Zero-COVID policy of the Xi Jinping era created one lie after another and harmed countless Chinese people. Precisely because of this, I saw the true CCP—that CCP wrapped under the appearance of lies, but extremely evil inside. Thus, I choose to resist, choose to eliminate the CCP.
I do not think of myself as an important figure, and I do not yet have any grand political ambitions. I am just an ordinary person, doing a thing within my power. One person standing out might not immediately change the world, but at least, I will no longer choose silence.
I hold up this sign not just to express opposition, but also to prove one thing: no matter how powerful the CCP’s terror is, I will no longer submit.
Acceptance Speech for the 13th Oscar Chinese Free Human Rights Awards
Author: Piao Piao
Editor: Feng Reng Proofreader: Feng Reng Translator: Zhou Min
To be able to be here today, to witness together with everyone the presentation of the 13th Oscar Chinese Free Human Rights Awards, I feel very honored. On behalf of the Chinese Democratic Education Foundation and Humanitarian China, I would like to express the highest respect to all the winners of this session, and also express heartfelt thanks to all the friends who have long cared about the cause of China’s freedom, human rights, and the rule of law.
Since the Oscar Chinese Free Human Rights Award was established, it has traveled through a thirteen-year journey. This award is not only an honor; it is more a kind of memory, a kind of record, and also a kind of witness. It has witnessed, in these past years, the courage and the price paid by countless Chinese citizens in order to pursue freedom, dignity, and the rule of law.
Among this year’s winners, there are many names that perhaps are not well-known by the public, but the spirit they represent is worthy of being remembered by history. Mr. Zhu Chengzhi has long traveled and appealed for China’s civil society and the cause of democracy; even when facing pressure and suppression, he still insisted on speaking out and insisted on recording the truth. Mr. Dong Guangping was once forced to wander in displacement because of adhering to his beliefs; his experience lets the world see once again how great a price a person can endure for the sake of freedom and dignity. Mr. Wang Yifei and Mr. Chang Jiaxuan likewise insisted on conscience and insisted on expression in difficult environments, guarding human dignity amidst silence and fear.
And the group award for this session is granted to all the persons involved in the “China Democratic Victory Party” case in Luzhou, Sichuan. Many of them are just ordinary people, yet because of expressing political ideals and because of pursuing a more free and just society, they endured heavy suppression and punishment. Their encounter reminds us: in today’s China, freedom of expression and freedom of association are still things that require immense courage. Exactly because of this, we need even more to remember these names.
History is often not written by power, but is slowly unfolded by those who still insist on their beliefs amidst difficulties. Many times, one person’s persistence looks insignificant, but when more and more people no longer stay silent and no longer shrink back, the direction of history will quietly change. Establishing this award is done with the hope that through this method, these brave ones will not be forgotten, and the world will hear their voices. Because every person who insists on conscience is a beam of light in the darkness. Today’s award ceremony is not just a commendation of individuals; it is even more an affirmation of a value—that is, the belief in freedom, human rights, and the rule of law.
In human history, in every era, there will appear some people—they may be just ordinary people, having no power, no resources, and even no sense of security. But they still choose to speak the truth, still choose to guard their conscience, and still choose to stand on the right side of history. It is precisely these people who make the darkness not so long and let hope never be extinguished. Today, we remember their names, not only to commemorate the past, but even more to remind the future—freedom may be suppressed, justice may be delayed, but the footsteps of humanity’s pursuit of dignity and rights will never stop.
May courage be remembered, may conscience be passed down, and may the sparks of freedom continue to burn in the hearts of more people!
Author: Sun Cheng Editor: Zhang Zhijun Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Zhou Min
I
The order or chaos of a nation depends not on the breadth of its territory, but on the location of its Legal Tradition (fǎtǒng). When the origin of this tradition is clear, the nation has its foundation; when it is in disarray, the nation may exist in name, but its governing principles are lost.
Since the Qin dynasty unified the Six States, the world came under a single rule known as “The Grand Unification” (Dà Yītǒng). This was established not through public deliberation, but through military conquest; it was based not on a mandate from the people, but on the false claim of a “Heavenly Mandate.” Thus, its authority was top-down: the monarch was the master of the state, and the people were his subjects. For thousands of years, this was the norm.
As the Qing dynasty neared its end, governance decayed and social order unraveled. With the Wuchang Uprising, the people of various provinces rose in independence. Consequently, the power of the world was no longer concentrated in one person but distributed among the provinces. At that moment, the old tradition had ended, and the new had yet to be established.
Yet, having risen, the provinces did not attack one another to remain isolated. Instead, they deliberated together, established a government in Nanjing, and enacted a Provisional Constitution to govern it. The formation of the state was not the work of one man, but the consensus of the provinces. Its legitimacy did not derive from the remnants of the Qing court, but from a newly created constitutional tradition.
Thus, at the dawn of the Republic, its tradition was one of original creation. Power flowed from the bottom up; the nation was formed by the collective. The central government did not precede the local; it was jointly established by the local. The state was not a natural monolith but a union of diverse entities. In this essence, it was fundamentally different from the ancient system of “Grand Unification.”
II
Soon, the political situation became unstable and power struggles intensified. Following the death of Song Jiaoren, the path of parliament was blocked; after the failure of the Second Revolution, the influence of local provinces was greatly diminished. Yuan Shikai usurped power, altered the constitution, and claimed the title of Emperor, causing the Legal Tradition to lose its footing. Yet, it was not yet severed; various factions fought for it under the banner of “Legal Tradition” (fǎtǒng), meaning that although the tradition was wounded, it was still recognized by the world.
After Yuan’s death, Li Yuanhong restored the Provisional Constitution and reopened Parliament, an event called the “Resurgence of the Legal Tradition.” However, military power remained in the hands of warlords, and policies came from many competing doors. Though the system existed, it could not restrain power. North and South stood in opposition; though they claimed to “Protect the Law,” they were in truth fighting for dominance.
Then came the proposal for “Federated Self-Governance” (Liánshěng Zìzhì), seeking to use local power to form a system of checks and balances. This was followed by the Constitution of 1923, which, though lacking the word “Federal,” possessed the substance of a federation. Alas, fierce generals ran rampant in the North, and the Party Army watched hungrily from the South. In 1924 (the 13th year of the Republic), the Beijing Coup occurred. The old government was toppled, Parliament was abolished, and the constitutional system was completely destroyed. Subsequent governance no longer looked to the Provisional Constitution as its guide or Parliament as its foundation.
From then on, the Legal Tradition was no longer fought for; it was abandoned. Though the name of the nation remained, its tradition was effectively severed. Thereafter, the governance of the land was based on seized power rather than established institutions. This was an era without a Legal Tradition.
III
The Kuomintang (KMT) underwent reorganization, establishing a party-led administration in Guangzhou, based on organization and discipline. When the Northern Expedition began, wherever the Party Army reached, those provinces were integrated into its system. The formation of the state was no longer a joint construction by the provinces, but an integration by a single party. Politics was no longer conducted through constitutionalism, but through organizational mandates. Thus, the Party-State system was formed.
At that time, the Nationalists and Communists were not yet opposing parties but were part of the same body, though their inclinations differed. The Communist “bandits” emphasized the “Dictatorship of the Proletariat,” a trend toward total power. Although the “Purge of the Party” occurred in 1927, the Party-State system had already been established and did not end with the purge.
Once unification was achieved, “Political Tutelage” (Xùnzhèng) was implemented. Power resided in the Party, and orders came from the top. The provinces were no longer sovereign subjects but gradually became mere administrative districts. When the War of Resistance against Japan broke out, mobilization expanded and power became even more centralized. Though there were discussions of a draft constitution, it was never enacted. The form of the nation remained, but the tradition was not yet restored.
After the war, a Constitution was finally enacted and implemented in 1947 (the 36th year of the Republic). This is known as the Second Legal Tradition. However, its source was not the consensus of the provinces, but a centralized creation. Soon, the Communist calamity intensified, and military affairs became urgent. The “Temporary Provisions Effective During the Period of Communist Rebellion” were enacted, limiting the application of the Constitution, and power once again returned to a single source.
IV
Before long, the mainland fell, and the National Government moved to Taiwan. Though the territory shrank, the Legal Tradition survived. At the center, the legislature was not re-elected for a long time, becoming known as the “Ten-Thousand-Year Parliament.” Yet, local elections were still held. Thus, at the county and city levels, politics remained competitive and power remained divided. The seeds of democracy did not sprout from the center but grew from the local level, echoing the original spirit of the 1911 Revolution. During this time, the people refused to be suppressed; they fought through speech and advanced through elections, creating a steady current of resistance.
Because of this, civil rights gradually expanded, and Martial Law was eventually lifted. Following the end of Martial Law, the President was directly elected, and power returned to the people. After the year 2000 (the 89th year of the Republic), the peaceful transfer of power between parties occurred, and the system was finalized. Thus, the tradition of the nation returned from a single entity to plurality, and from organization back to the will of the people.
A broad view of the Republic’s history reveals several stages:
Beginning: Established through original constitutional creation;
Middle: Eroded and thrown into chaos;
Severance: The Beijing Coup;
Aftermath: An era without a Legal Tradition;
Succession: The Party-State system;
Transition: The Second Legal Tradition;
Culmination: Realized by the people of Taiwan.
V
Since the Republic originated from the independence of various provinces, the local regions are the foundation of the nation, not its subordinates. The construction of the state comes from their union; the establishment of the Legal Tradition comes from its origin. If the tradition no longer exists, the union can be dissolved. Therefore, one must know that a nation is not “indivisible” by some absolute principle. For local regions to govern themselves—whether as a federation or as independent entities—is a logical conclusion. This is not a theory of chaos, but a theory of returning to the source.
Later commentators often take “unification” as a given without questioning its origin, or view “might” as “right” without examining its basis. They fail to understand that the meaning of the Republic lies in its original creation, not its unification; in consensus, not in centralization.
By clarifying the origin, we know the destination; by recognizing the foundation, we distinguish what is legitimate. This is the history of the Republic.
VI
Having clarified the Legal Tradition of the Republic, one more point must be made clear: The Communist bandits once occupied land to build a regime, usurping the title “Soviet Republic”; they also strongly advocated for a federal system in 1946. However, though they used the names “Independence” and “Federalism,” their reality was the opposite of the true meaning of these terms.
The Communist bandits practice extreme cruelty. Their ideology is based on a “vanguard” exercising a totalitarian “Dictatorship of the Proletariat,” seeking to impose it upon the whole world. Therefore, their so-called “independence” or “federalism” are merely tactics to achieve totalitarian unification—they are as different from true decentralized governance as clouds are from mud. Furthermore, wherever the Communists occupy a territory, they inevitably implement the methods of Lenin and Lord Shang. Their tyrannical rule is a hundred times more cruel than that of the Qin dynasty. Thus, whether they advocate for “division” or “unification,” it is all a fraudulent usurpation. A person of insight must perceive this.
Republic of China, Year 115 (2026), Year of Bing-Wu. Written on an auspicious day in early summer, at the Duixiu Studio.
“Empathy” Should Not Be Just a Slogan, But a Responsibility That Transcends Mountains and Seas
Author: You Yapeng
Editor: Zhang Yu
Proofreader: Zhou Min
Translator: Lyu Feng
Abstract: While we stand on the other side of the ocean, breathing the air of freedom, rushing about for job offers in the workplace, and planning our finances and future in daily life, there are certain names and faces that should not be washed away by the flood of time. They are the dissidents still trapped behind the high walls in China, and the ordinary people silently enduring injustice and unfair treatment at home.
The Perseverance Inside the Wall and the Echoes Outside
Every overseas pro-democracy activist and every friend who cares about social justice: the reason we can speak out freely here is because someone inside China is bearing the heaviest price for us. Those who spend the four seasons in cold, dark prison cells are guarding a kind of conscience. The best tribute we can give them is “never forget.”
Forgetting is the second injury to the truth. When attention fades, injustice runs rampant; but when the spotlight gathers—even if it is only faint attention—it becomes the most practical protection for those who are suffering.
(On-site at the Democracy Movement Event, Mr. Zhu Yufu Delivers a Speech)
Small Streams Converge to Form the Sea
Every one of you can offer help in your own way. Helping does not have to be earth-shattering. Everyone can think creatively and contribute according to their own circumstances, within the framework of law and safety.
For example: Continuous documentation and witnessing — Share on social media the information that has been obscured, and record the suffering that is happening right now. Let the international community see that these names are still vivid, and these demands remain clear.
For example: Material and spiritual support — The families of those who are suffering often face enormous economic pressure and psychological isolation. A donation, or even an encouraging letter, can let them feel that they are not alone in this world.
For example: Leveraging professional expertise — If you are a legal professional, you can participate in legal aid or document human rights cases. If you are a translator, you can translate the real situation inside China into multiple languages to break through information barriers.
For example: Everyday resistance — Even if you have improved your life abroad through financial planning and hard work, do not forget that once you gain social standing, you can use that influence to tell local lawmakers, communities, or institutions the truth about what is happening in China.
Paintings by Niu Tengyu’s Mother
Conclusion
In any corner of freedom, each one of us is a beam of light. We may not be able to tear down the high walls immediately, but we can let the light shine through and illuminate those surrounded by darkness.
My Encounter with Mr. Zhu Yufu
(On March 22, the Los Angeles Branch of the China Democracy and Human Rights Alliance held a rally in front of the Chinese Embassy to support Chinese democracy activist Qian Chenchang, who has been out of contact for over a month and is very likely to have been arrested by the authorities in China. We also raised funds for the family of Wang Sen, made donations to an opposition magazine, and held a charity sale of paintings by Niu Tengyu’s mother. Four paintings were sold that day.)
2026 New Version of “709”: From Xie Yang’s Five-Year Heavy Sentence to the Collective Persecution of Lawyers Yu Kai, Bao Longjun, Wang Yu and Others
Author: Zhang Weiqing
Editor: Huang Jizhou
Proofreader: Zhou Min
Translator: Lyu Feng
Abstract: In March 2026, multiple Chinese human rights lawyers faced a concentrated crackdown: Xie Yang was sentenced to five years in prison, Yu Kai was detained for filing a public report, and Beijing police simultaneously summoned several lawyers connected to the “709” case. The events indicate that the authorities are carrying out systematic suppression against the community of independent lawyers, drawing international attention and calls of concern over the rule of law in China.
At the end of March 2026, China’s human rights lawyer community is experiencing the darkest and most chilling moment since the 2015 “709 Mass Arrest.” From the heavy sentence handed down by the Changsha court to the collective summons of multiple prominent lawyers by Beijing police stations, a systematic purge dressed in legal clothing is sweeping across the country. This is not merely political retaliation against individual lawyers, but a comprehensive strangulation of what remains of China’s rule-of-law civilization.
The prelude to this tragedy officially began on March 23, 2026. On that day, the Changsha Intermediate People’s Court sentenced well-known human rights lawyer Xie Yang to five years in prison on the charge of “inciting subversion of state power.” This five-year sentence is an open humiliation of Xie Yang’s long-standing adherence to conscience. The so-called “evidence” used to frame him consists solely of his basic moral duty as a lawyer: documenting real social suffering on the internet, exposing the abuse of power in media interviews, and fearlessly standing in support of Li Tiantian — a pregnant teacher who was forcibly sent to a psychiatric hospital — in snowy western Hunan in 2021. Since his arrest in January 2022, he has endured 1,532 days of illegal detention, subjected to sleep deprivation, heavy shackles, and personal humiliation. The United Nations has officially determined the case to be “arbitrary detention” and accused it of involving “crimes against humanity,” yet the perpetrators continue to feign deafness and muteness on the judgment bench.
Under the shadow of Xie Yang’s heavy sentence, lawyer Yu Kai, director of the Xiaolin Law Firm in Shandong, was also imprisoned for exercising his right to citizen oversight. On March 26, Yu Kai publicly held up a placard in front of the judicial authorities, openly accusing Deng Huanli, director of the Qingdao Municipal Justice Bureau, of suspected “abuse of power, dereliction of duty by failing to transfer criminal cases, and having huge assets of unclear origin.” However, the very next day after exercising his constitutionally granted right to report, Yu Kai was forcibly taken away by police on the grounds of “disrupting public order.” The latest confirmed information shows that lawyer Yu Kai has been placed under criminal detention and is currently held in the Xicheng District Detention Center in Beijing. Yu Kai’s ordeal reveals a absurd and cruel reality: in this system, the only way to solve a problem is to “solve the person who raised the problem.” When a lawyer tries to fight corruption through legal channels, the law itself becomes a fig leaf and a private torture tool for corrupt officials.
This suppression is not isolated, but part of a larger-scale hunt targeting the “709” group and their defense team. At the same time as Yu Kai’s arrest, Beijing police launched a wide-ranging summons operation. The same police station has formally summoned core figures from the “709” case — lawyers Bao Longjun, Li Guobei, and Zhang Xinnian — to appear. Meanwhile, police have also notified lawyer Wang Yu to report for questioning. Bao Longjun and Wang Yu, as iconic figures in China’s rights defense movement, have long endured license revocation, surveillance, and border controls. The simultaneous summons of multiple prominent lawyers sends an extremely dangerous political signal: the authorities are carrying out a “second targeted purge” against China’s independent lawyer community. This is no longer the punishment of isolated cases, but a systematic campaign aimed at completely cutting off vulnerable groups’ access to legal remedies and eliminating the independent legal profession.
From Xie Yang’s “five-year heavy sentence,” to Yu Kai’s “arrest for filing a real-name report,” and then to the collective roundup of Bao Longjun, Wang Yu and others, these actions fully meet the international legal definition of systematic human rights persecution. The large-scale, systematic use of the judicial machinery to strike against the legal professional community has long crossed the bottom line of modern civilization. The continuation of the “709” model shows that the authorities have completely abandoned any pretense of the rule of law and have instead entered a phase of naked secret police rule and politics of terror.
We hereby issue an urgent appeal to global justice advocates, international bar associations, and human rights organizations: the immediate release of lawyers Xie Yang and Yu Kai is demanded, and all illegal harassment and persecution against lawyers Bao Longjun, Wang Yu, Li Guobei, Zhang Xinnian and others must cease. At the same time, every case-handling officer and political-legal official involved in this purge should be documented and placed on international human rights sanctions lists.
The judgment seat of history has long been prepared. When courts are turned into circuses and prisons are filled with upright lawyers, it once again proves that the legitimacy of this system has completely collapsed. The CCP can imprison these lawyers’ bodies and revoke their practicing certificates, but it cannot imprison justice under heaven. We firmly believe: truth is not a crime, conscience is not a crime, and the spark of the rule of law will eventually be rekindled in the darkness.
On June 4, 1989, the Chinese Communist Party government used guns to solve a problem. That problem was: the people wanted to speak.
In May 1989, the spring in Beijing was unusually hot. Students from all over the country gathered in Tiananmen Square, at times exceeding one hundred thousand. They brought tents and loudspeakers and set up a temporary “Democracy University.” What they demanded was not to overthrow the government, but dialogue, an end to corruption, and freedom of the press. Their demands were not radical; what was radical was the government’s response.
Late on the night of June 3, tanks rolled in from both ends of Chang’an Avenue. Some students stood in front of the tanks and refused to move; ordinary citizens tried to block the army with their bodies. Gunfire rang out in the night—not warning shots, but live ammunition. The hospitals stayed brightly lit all night, with the injured lying along the corridors. Some died in the square, some on their way home, and some by their own windows—simply because they heard the noise and looked out. That night, Beijing’s streets ran with blood. Then dawn broke, the army cleared the square, it was washed clean, and it was as if nothing had happened.
No official figure exists for how many people died that night. It is not that the number is unknown, but that the CCP will not allow it to be spoken. A mother named Ding Zilin lost her son on Chang’an Avenue. She spent the rest of her life recording names: 237, and later even more. Behind every name is a door that never again welcomed its person home.
One year, two years, thirty-seven years have passed. The CCP has offered no apology, no compensation, and not a single person has been held accountable. The mothers who lost their children waited thirty-seven years, only to be placed under house arrest every year on this day. This CCP regime killed people and still will not let you mourn.
Thirty-seven years ago, the high and mighty leaders called it a “political disturbance” that had been “correctly handled.” But to this day, you cannot write “May 35th” on Weibo, you cannot post a candle on WeChat, and you cannot stand quietly in Tiananmen Square. Why is something they claim to have “handled properly” still forbidden to even mention? It is because they are guilty, and that is why they need so many locks.
They have built a complete machine of forgetting. It is not only about deleting posts, banning accounts, and blocking keywords—it starts from childhood. Our textbooks contain no “June 4th,” classrooms teach no “June 4th,” and even parents dare not mention it in front of their children. Generation after generation passes down not the truth, but silence. This silence is not natural; it is deliberately manufactured.
Many young people in China today grew up under complete information blockade. They do not know what happened in 1989—not because they do not want to know, but because they never had the chance. I do not blame them. I blame the regime that systematically stole their memory. If you are reading this article today, please remember one thing: your country once turned its guns on your parents’ generation.
Germany apologized for Auschwitz. South Africa apologized for apartheid. As for the CCP? Not a single word! It is not that they do not know what they did, but that they are still doing the same things today. An apology would mean admission; admission would mean change; change would mean they step down. So they choose to make you forget it all!
After the crackdown, the Western world was initially furious. The United States and Europe issued statements of condemnation, and some countries imposed arms embargoes on China. But anger is short-lived, while business is long-term. In the 1990s, Western capital flooded into China like a tidal wave. The CCP traded economic growth for the international community’s silence and market access for foreign governments’ amnesia. Thirty-seven years later, most of the countries that once condemned the CCP are now on brotherly terms with Beijing. They chose profit and left the blood of that night to be recorded by history—if history is still allowed to record it.
A regime that never needs to be elected, never needs to be held accountable, and will never step down is one of the most dangerous political structures in human history. Not because its leaders are necessarily bad people, but because the structure itself produces bad outcomes. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely—this is not a moral judgment, but a historical law. “June 4th” is an extreme example, but it is not an isolated one. The Cultural Revolution was, the Great Leap Forward was, Xinjiang is, and Hong Kong is. Every time it follows the same logic: the survival of the Party comes above all else, including human lives. As long as this structure remains unchanged, similar things will not stop.
After the June 4th incident, a group of people left China. Overseas, they founded magazines, radio stations, and organizations. For decades, they have recorded, called out, and persisted. They have grown old; some have already passed away. Their deepest fear is not being forgotten themselves, but this: when their generation is gone, will anyone still remember that night? Will anyone still be willing to keep speaking? This article is also an answer.
The young people who stood in the square in 1989 are now mostly in their fifties or sixties. Many of their children still do not know what happened that night. It is not that the parents do not want to tell them, but that speaking out is dangerous. What is this? This is a second murder of the next generation!
“June 4th” is not history. “June 4th” is the governing logic they still use today: whoever dares to say “no” is made to disappear. The bulldozers in Fangshan, the police batons in Xinyi, the tear gas in Jiangyou—the same methods, thirty-seven years later, deployed in different places.
But history never automatically moves toward justice. The Nuremberg trials did not happen naturally, nor did South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Truth and accountability for “June 4th” will not fall from the sky either. It requires every person who still remembers to refuse to pretend to forget. It requires every person who can speak freely to speak for those who cannot. We must not let those who died perish in silence, as if they never existed!
Today, no matter where you are, please speak out and please share this. Remember those names. Do not let their silence become everyone’s silence!
— Mass Incidents Reveal the Dictator’s Weakness and Democratic Opportunities
Author: Ma Xuefeng Editor: Li Jing Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Lyu Feng
Since the bloody suppression of the “June 4th” student movement, the Chinese Communist Party’s fear of mass incidents has never disappeared, while protests by the Chinese people have continued to erupt one after another. More than thirty years have passed. From street protests to online mobilization, from the White Paper Movement to the spontaneous mourning after Zhang Xuefeng’s death, a clear reality has emerged: long-term high pressure, speech control, and social repression have pushed Chinese society to a critical tipping point. What the CCP fears most is not the incidents themselves, but the resonance and gathering of the people.
In a society oppressed by the CCP’s privileged class, tragedies, public events, or even the death of public figures can all become fuses that trigger widespread resonance. Even without clear political or economic demands, scattered incidents can spark spontaneous offline gatherings.
Dictators throughout history have understood one thing clearly: blocking the mouths of the people is more difficult than blocking a river. But if dictators truly accepted the people’s criticism, their privileges could not be maintained. Therefore, when faced with the convergence of public sentiment, the CCP can only resort to its usual methods—violent crackdowns and clearances, cooling public opinion through propaganda, and information blockades—to superficially “solve” the problem. These measures can only delay the explosion; they cannot eliminate the internal pressure building within society.
Every suppression deepens the people’s accumulated grievances, making the next protest more intense and the triggering causes increasingly minor.
The bloody suppression of the “June 4th” student movement established the underlying logic of the CCP’s governance. Since then, in incidents such as the Dongzhou incident, the Weng’an riot, the Urumqi unrest, and the Wukan incident, the response to any gathering of the masses—regardless of scale—has remained consistent: rapid suppression, information blockade, and unified official narrative.
The CCP fears that if it allows such gatherings to continue unchecked, they will once again evolve into a nationwide crisis like “June 4th,” where resonance spreads across regions. This fear is the core driving force behind the CCP’s stability maintenance system.
Since Xi Jinping came to power, social repression and speech controls have been further intensified. Information channels have been sealed off, personal emotions have been repressed for long periods, and the space for social expression has been extremely compressed.
The 2022 “White Paper Movement” proved that even without a clear political platform, purely symbolic actions could create cross-city resonance. Long-term repression has caused social emotions to accumulate ever deeper; every small trigger point now has the potential to spark public attention and action.
Since the “White Paper Movement,” as China’s economy has declined, public dissatisfaction with Xi Jinping and the Communist Party has grown day by day. If the suppression of “June 4th” left the CCP with only performance-based legitimacy, then even that remaining legitimacy is now gradually disappearing. This has forced the CCP to strengthen its high-pressure rule and speech controls, further squeezing the people’s space for freedom. At the same time, economic downturn is also compressing the people’s living space, causing social resentment to accumulate rapidly. According to data from the “China Dissent Monitor” and others, protest incidents in 2025 increased by approximately 45%–50% year-on-year, with over 5,000 protest events recorded for the entire year. In the third quarter of 2025 alone, there were 1,392 incidents. Notable cases include:
The lead poisoning incident at a kindergarten in Tianshui, Gansu: Parents’ panic over their children’s health quickly accumulated, but the authorities swiftly contained it through public opinion control and on-site stability maintenance.
The school bullying incident in Jiangyou, Sichuan: The heart-wrenching scene of deaf-mute parents kneeling to seek justice was blocked by police, public opinion was suppressed, and social anger was prevented from spreading.
The Xiao Luoxi incident: The death of a 5-month-old baby girl after surgery triggered family suspicions of misdiagnosis and excessive medical treatment. The public spontaneously voiced support, but the authorities quickly suppressed public attention through official notices, accountability measures, and opinion guidance.
Student death incidents in Pucheng, Shaanxi and Xincai, Henan: Families were prevented from approaching the bodies, and the authorities uniformly claimed the deaths were “accidents,” quickly sealing off any space for public discussion.
The protest at the crematorium in Xinyi, Guangdong: Residents opposed the crematorium being built near villages. The protest clashed with police, who cleared the scene with force. Multiple people were injured and arrested.
Although large and small protest activities continue to be ruthlessly suppressed by the CCP’s iron fist, social injustice, government negligence, the absence of the rule of law, and exploitation by the privileged class weigh heavily on the Chinese people like several mountains, squeezing their living space.
The Chinese people’s resistance may seem ineffective, but the spark of resistance was actually planted as early as “June 4th.” The flames ignited each time the Chinese people rise up appear to be extinguished again and again. However, as long as the Chinese people’s determination to resist CCP tyranny does not die, and their belief in pursuing a happy life does not fade, no matter how many times they are suppressed, the Chinese people will rise up and resist once more!
The CCP has lain low and bided its time for many years while actively infiltrating the civilized world. Fortunately, it exposed its ambitions too early, prompting Western countries to impose isolation and sanctions. The world is now accelerating its decoupling from the CCP. This is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity. We, the China Democratic Party, must seize it firmly. We must unite anti-CCP forces both inside and outside China, pool our wisdom and efforts, spread universal values and the ideas of freedom and democracy within the Great Firewall, and cultivate civic culture. This is a war of attrition in which one side’s gain is the other’s loss. The CCP will be exhausted by constant suppression, while the ideas of freedom and democracy will spread more widely with each struggle, triggering even larger-scale resistance next time!
Today’s CCP is like the Jia family mansion described by Cao Xueqin in Dream of the Red Chamber—on the surface glamorous and imposing, seemingly unshakable, but in reality already riddled with holes and rotten to the core, strong in appearance but weak inside. The collapse of the CCP’s dictatorial rule is historically inevitable, but that does not mean we can sit idly by and wait for it to happen.
For thousands of years, China’s land has been deeply shaped by feudal systems and autocratic thinking, which are difficult to change. As mentioned above, we, the China Democratic Party, should seize the opportunity while the CCP is beset with difficulties both at home and abroad. We must promote universal values and the ideas of freedom and democracy inside China, cultivate civic culture on this land, establish democratic concepts, and abandon feudal imperial thinking. Only in this way can we ensure that any new government will not become another dictatorship, that the Chinese people can achieve true liberation, and that the nation can truly achieve revival after suffering so long under the CCP’s poison!
