In Memory of Liu Xiaobo on the Beach at Santa Monica, Twice Over
By Zhu Xiaona | July 13, 2025
Edited by: Zhao Jie | Chief Editors: Luo Zhifei, Huiwen Lu | Translated by: Huiwen Lu
In 2024, I stepped onto the sands of Santa Monica for the first time. On the anniversary of Liu Xiaobo’s death, I offered a white flower to the sea.
This year, I returned—this time, with my young daughter by my side.
As a member of the China Democracy Party, as a mother, and as an ordinary person who has personally suffered under authoritarian rule, I know that every time I stand up, it is never by chance.
Five years ago in China, due to pandemic control measures, I was denied medical care and lost the child I was carrying. When I shared this painful experience online, the police came to my home, threatened me, and forced me to delete the post. It was then that I understood: in a country where even grief cannot be expressed freely, there is no tomorrow.
I chose to leave. I chose to begin anew in the United States—and to begin a new resistance.
Since arriving here, I joined the China Democracy Party. I’ve taken part in protests, managed our finances, and volunteered at the Los Angeles Liberty Sculpture Park—expressing my beliefs through action, building hope with my own hands. But no matter what else I do, every July 13, I must return to this beach—to pay tribute to the thinker who lit the path of my beliefs and my life.
Liu Xiaobo’s sacrifice marked a rupture in the intellectual history of modern China. His gentleness, his perseverance, his words—“I have no enemies”—once allowed me, even in moments of deepest anger, to still believe in the future.
Today, I pass that faith on to my daughter. She doesn’t yet understand what “freedom” means, but her childhood now unfolds on free soil. She will grow up without needing to bow her head or speak lies.
I am grateful to all those who remain unyielding—whether inside China or abroad. Grateful to every companion who continues to uphold truth and memory.
Eighth Anniversary of Liu Xiaobo’s Passing — Memorial Speech at the Sea
Speaker: Mr. Tian Yongde
Delivered on July 13, 2025
Edited by: Hu Lili | Chief Editors: Luo Zhifei, Huiwen Lu | Translated by: Huiwen Lu
Last year, the China Democracy Party National Committee held a memorial ceremony for Liu Xiaobo on Santa Monica Beach. This year, we are here again. Our commemoration is not merely a ritual—it is a conscious act against forgetting, a reaffirmation of how we must continue resisting the Chinese Communist Party.
I had the chance to interact with Mr. Liu Xiaobo on several occasions. Our first meeting was in February 2008, and it left a profound impression on me. Friends had stepped away to order food, leaving just the two of us in conversation. At the time, I was in close contact with lawyer Gao Zhisheng—we spoke at least once a week—so naturally, we discussed the national hunger strike movement initiated by Mr. Gao. Liu Xiaobo took a different view. He said:
“What lawyer Gao is doing is too confrontational. Compared to the Cultural Revolution and 1989, our environment for protest is much better now. If he takes this head-on approach, the CCP will crush him. It’s not that we must never confront them, but the CCP is so powerful and shameless that direct confrontation will leave you broken. It’s not the best strategy for rational resistance.”
Although he was advocating for rational, nonviolent resistance, his words made me uncomfortable. Since entering the democracy movement, I had been seeking effective and principled means of resistance—methods that embraced non-cooperation without violence, methods worth trying. So I argued back forcefully. Liu Xiaobo responded patiently, but I was unwilling to yield—my face flushed, voice raised. Just then, our friends returned with the food and, seeing the tension, quickly changed the subject. I remained indignant. It wasn’t until later, when news broke of Gao Zhisheng’s brutal mistreatment, that I began to reflect deeply.
Liu Xiaobo had lived through the Cultural Revolution and played a key role in the 1989 Tiananmen movement. He had first-hand knowledge of the CCP’s might, its shamelessness, its cruelty, and its treachery. These experiences made him cautious and strategic. In hindsight, he was right. I was the naïve one. My later growth into a more measured, more restrained activist came from this realization: the CCP’s brutality and dominance compel us to choose moderation—not out of willingness, but from necessity.
Last year, attorney Chen Chuangchuang spoke about Charter 08. I was one of its first signatories, and I know some details that weren’t mentioned. The charter was primarily drafted by Professor Zhang Zuhua, while Liu Xiaobo was responsible for editing and coordination. At the time, I worked as an information officer for Zhang’s Civil Rights & Livelihood Watch. In mid-November 2008, Zhang showed me the draft—already revised by Liu—and asked for my feedback. Originally, they planned to release the charter with fewer than 100 signatories. But Liu Xiaobo, eager for broader input, had circulated the draft widely across society. By then, signatures had exceeded 100. Zhang told me to find more people willing to sign on. I lacked the expertise to offer substantial revisions, but I did recruit a few friends to join. The plan was to release it on December 10—International Human Rights Day.
But on December 6, both Zhang and Liu were arrested. Zhang, a former member of the Communist Youth League’s Central Committee, actually ranked higher than Li Keqiang or Liu Yandong back in the day. He was quickly released under strict surveillance. We used to access his home through the basement garage, but after Charter 08, even that door was locked. Liu Xiaobo was placed under residential surveillance at a designated location, and later sentenced to 11 years in prison.
During Liu’s initial detention, many were pessimistic—fearing he would be imprisoned long-term. I, however, remained optimistic.
My reasoning was simple: many had mocked Charter 08 as a modern-day petition to the emperor, a naive plea to the regime. I said:
“Liu Xiaobo is known for his moderation. Since Zhang was released, surely Liu will be as well.”
But once again, I was too naïve. I underestimated the CCP’s shameless cruelty. What they truly feared was Liu Xiaobo’s ability to bridge different sectors of society—his power to connect. They thought he could be manipulated. So they persecuted him until death. Yet in doing so, they immortalized his name. Personally, I would have preferred he lived on in peace—even without fame.
Last year, Executive Director Chen also mentioned the moment Liu Xiaobo publicly claimed on television that he “saw no corpses” after June Fourth. From Liu’s perspective, it may have been factually accurate—depending on time and location. But I later read a book that revealed the deeper reason for that statement: after his arrest, the CCP brought his elderly father into the prison. They made the old man kneel before his son, pleading with him to say he had seen no deaths in Tiananmen. They told the father that if Liu didn’t comply, he would be sentenced to death—but if he did, he’d be released soon. Liu’s father, a loyal Party member and an intellectual, believed them. Faced with his weeping, kneeling father, Liu gave in and made that statement—an act he would later describe as the greatest shame of his life.
From that moment until his death, he lived in atonement. He even gave up the chance to go into exile, choosing instead to stay and resist. He paid for it with his life.
There is a book he wrote titled Survivor’s Notes. I’ve also read a booklet by Chengdu’s old rightist Zeng Boyan with the same title, filled with fierce accusations. But Liu’s Survivor’s Notes is more than indictment—it is a profound work of self-reflection. I highly recommend it for anyone wishing to truly understand Liu Xiaobo.
Liu once said something that has haunted me ever since:
“If I’m not afraid of living, why should I fear dying?”
Persistence is never easy. But Liu showed us that peace born from pain is deeper, and tolerance born from love is more enduring. Whether or not you believe it, it’s true. Don’t reject the experiences of pain and love—these are what make a life profound.
In private conversations, I’ve compared Liu Xiaobo to Thomas Paine—one of America’s founding fathers and the author of Common Sense. Both men resisted their governments throughout their lives. Both were controversial. Both gave everything until their final breath. Tragic and stirring figures, they are pillars in the ongoing story of human civilization. Liu Xiaobo deserved the Nobel Peace Prize. But I wish he didn’t need to earn it that way. I wish he were still alive.
On the day of the Nobel ceremony, I was in Guangzhou. As a member of the Independent Chinese PEN Center, I had been invited by a U.S. consulate official to watch the ceremony at a restaurant. There were consular staff, Hong Kong journalists, fellow PEN members, and dissidents. When Liu couldn’t attend, the organizers placed an empty chair at the center of the stage. As I turned to look at the television, I noticed through the window dozens—maybe hundreds—of state security officers surrounding the area. That empty chair on the screen mirrored the fear in the regime’s heart. Even in prison, Liu terrified them.
Persistence is not easy. A state security agent once told me:
“Killing you would be as easy as squashing an ant. Even Liu Xiaobo would be no exception.”
I don’t know if Liu ever received the same threat in Beijing. But I do know that spiritual torment is worse than physical pain. He, having survived 1989, carried the resistance deep into his bones. He pushed back against tyranny time and again, carving out space for those who followed.
Today, we gather once more—not just to mourn, but to carry on his legacy. To fight against the powerful, shameless, seemingly immovable CCP. And yet, some accuse us of “exploiting” Liu Xiaobo. Such accusations are despicable.
If we don’t remember a man persecuted to death by the CCP, then the regime’s crimes go unchecked. If we don’t speak his name, then those who die in prison—like Cao Shunli, Yang Tianshui, Peng Ming, and many others I personally knew—will also be forgotten. And more will surely die.
Our commemoration is a testimony. It shows the world the CCP’s brutality. I only hope our remembrance can bring even the slightest restraint upon their cruelty.
As long as people act, there will be voices of doubt. We accept fair criticism with humility, but we reject malicious slander. Let us strive to do more, to expose the CCP’s barbarity to the eyes of the world.
Los Angeles Chinese Community Holds Memorial Rally for Liu Xiaobo: Calling for an End to Literary Inquisition and Political Persecution
By Feng Reng, July 15, 2025
Editor: He Qingfeng | Chief Editors: Luo Zhifei, Huiwen Lu | Translation: Huiwen Lu
On the afternoon of July 13, 2025, a solemn memorial rally themed “In Memory of Liu Xiaobo / Protest Against Political Persecution” was held in front of the Chinese Consulate in Los Angeles. The event was co-organized by the China Democracy Party (West Coast and Southern U.S. Chapters), the Liberty Bell Democracy Foundation, the Alliance for Democracy and Human Rights in China, and other organizations. It drew the participation of over a hundred Chinese pro-democracy activists and members of the overseas Chinese community concerned about human rights in China. Participants held banners and signs, paying tribute to the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize laureate Liu Xiaobo and voicing strong protest against the Chinese Communist Party’s continued suppression of dissenting voices.
Photo: Attendees gather in front of the Chinese Consulate in Los Angeles to mourn Liu Xiaobo, call for freedom of expression, and protest CCP political persecution.
The event began with a moment of silence. A symbolic “empty chair” display was set up in front of the consulate, recreating the haunting image from the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize ceremony in Oslo, where Liu Xiaobo’s absence was marked by an empty seat due to his imprisonment. On the chair rested his portrait and a bouquet of white flowers, quietly conveying the sorrow of an era. Beside it, a sign read:
“A country that does not allow dissent is not a truly safe country.”
The poignant display stirred reflection and emotion.
One of the organizers remarked:
“In today’s China, speaking the truth still comes at a heavy cost. We are here not out of hatred, but to carry forward the spirit of peaceful, rational, and nonviolent civic resistance that Liu Xiaobo represented.”
The event featured a special appearance by Mr. Wang Xizhe, a veteran figure in the Chinese democracy movement and a close comrade of Liu Xiaobo. He recalled their 1996 meeting in Guangzhou, where they jointly signed the “Double Ten Declaration to the KMT and CCP,” which advocated for a return to the constitutional framework of the 1945 Double Ten Agreement and the Political Consultative Conference resolutions. Wang emphasized that Liu Xiaobo was not only a dissident writer but also a steadfast idealist who believed in peaceful reform and upheld his famous principle of “I have no enemies.”
“His life,” Wang said, “was a blaze of conscience and freedom in the shadow of tyranny.”
Photo: Democracy elder Wang Xizhe bows deeply before Liu Xiaobo’s portrait and the symbolic empty chair, paying solemn tribute to his late comrade.
Several speakers took turns reading excerpts from Liu Xiaobo’s 2009 courtroom statement, “I Have No Enemies,” delivered at his sentencing. In this widely circulated declaration, Liu wrote:
“Hatred can corrupt a person’s wisdom and conscience… I hope to transcend my personal experiences and respond to the regime’s hostility with the utmost goodwill, to dissolve hatred with love.”
Even in prison, he never gave up hope in China’s future progress toward freedom of speech and political reform.
Organizers noted that the purpose of the memorial was not only to mark the eighth anniversary of Liu Xiaobo’s death, but also to raise global awareness of China’s ongoing human rights violations—particularly the systemic persecution of dissidents, rights lawyers, and religious groups. They called on the international community to stay vigilant about the CCP’s “literary inquisition” and to speak up for prisoners of conscience who continue to hold on to their beliefs in the dark.
The rally concluded in solemn unity as participants chanted powerful slogans together:
“Free all prisoners of conscience!” “Freedom of speech is not a crime!” “Liu Xiaobo’s spirit lives on!”
The resonant cries echoed for a long time in front of the Chinese Consulate. Many had tears in their eyes.
Some lit candles; others laid down white flowers. The atmosphere was heavy, moving, and unforgettable.
From the June 4th Memorial Museum: Uniting Democratic Forces Across the Strait to Resist CCP Tyranny
By Zhao Jie, July 16, 2025
Editor: Li Congling | Chief Editors: Luo Zhifei, Huiwen Lu | Translation: Huiwen Lu
At 6:00 p.m. on July 15, 2025, a delegation of more than twenty representatives from the Taiwan Indo-Pacific Strategic Think Tank, led by Executive Director Mr. Akio Yaita, paid a special visit to the June 4th Memorial Museum in Los Angeles. The visiting guests included prominent Taiwanese figures from both the political and academic spheres, such as former Minister of National Defense Tsai Ming-hsien, former National Assembly member and political commentator Huang Peng-hsiao, economist Wu Jialong, former Director of the Kaohsiung Health Bureau Han Ming-rong, and Taiwan Statebuilding Party Chairman Chen Jun-han, among others.
As a volunteer on duty at the June 4th Memorial Museum, I had the honor of welcoming the delegation alongside Mr. Wang Dan, Mr. Chen Chuangchuang (Executive Director of the China Democracy Party National Committee), and Chairman Geng Guanjun. Together, we introduced the background, exhibitions, and mission of the museum.
During the visit, Mr. Akio Yaita shared a powerful and thought-provoking statement:
“Taiwanese people must realize that if the Chinese Communist Party were to rule Taiwan, June 4th would become their fate as well.”
These words resonated deeply. Indeed, Taiwanese society needs to gain a more profound understanding of the CCP’s history and the tyrannical nature of its regime, in order to more firmly safeguard its democratic institutions.
I also took this opportunity to express, on behalf of the China Democracy Party, our unwavering support for the Republic of China (Taiwan). In the past, we have held five public events to voice our solidarity with Taiwan and the ROC. We firmly believe that the CCP’s authoritarian rule is not only a brutal oppression of the Chinese people, but also a grave threat to the global democratic order and to the entire Chinese-speaking world.
Only by overthrowing the CCP and realizing true democracy in mainland China can Taiwan’s security be fundamentally guaranteed.
We look forward to deeper exchanges and cooperation with all sectors of Taiwanese society in the future. Let us join hands in resisting our shared enemy—the Chinese Communist Party—and strive together for the freedom, democracy, and peace of the Chinese nation.
Echoes of a Thousand Years: An Introduction to East Asian Ceramics
Speaker: Sun Cheng (Former journalist at Radio Free Asia)
Have you ever found yourself lingering in a museum, captivated by the quiet elegance of Song dynasty porcelain, the serene beauty of Goryeo celadon, the ornate blue-and-white wares of the Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties, or the vibrant colors of famille-rose and enamelled porcelain—struck by their beauty, yet unsure how to describe or understand them?
In fact, these stunning artifacts can be decoded.
This special lecture will take you on a journey across a millennium—from the evolution of ceramic craftsmanship and changing aesthetic tastes, to the deeper cultural exchanges and dynastic transformations behind these works of art. You will gain insights into:
• Ceramic art and masterpieces from the Qianlong era to the present
• How ceramics reflect the rise and fall of empires and the migration of civilizations
🕖 Date & Time: Saturday, August 2, 2025, 7:00 – 9:00 PM
📍 Venue: 2077 Gold St, Alviso, CA 95002
Whether you’re an art lover, a novice collector, or a curious explorer of history and culture, this evening promises to be a magical journey into the world of porcelain.
Editor: Zhao Jie | Chief Editors: Luo Zhifei, Huiwen Lu | Translation: Huiwen Lu
On July 13, 2025, the eighth anniversary of Liu Xiaobo’s death, we gathered on the beach of Santa Monica in Los Angeles. We placed a giant chair—symbolizing “freedom”—in the sand, lit candles, offered flowers, and left a space not only for the Nobel Peace Prize laureate who died in captivity, but also for the prisoners of conscience still silenced in China, and for the hope that continues to burn within ourselves.
At the Nobel Prize ceremony in Oslo in 2010, Liu Xiaobo was unable to attend. In his place stood an empty chair on the stage—an unspoken gaze from the world upon China’s suppression of free speech. Today, we placed that chair by the Pacific Ocean. The wind blew from across the sea, and the chair reminded us: freedom has not yet arrived. The chair remains empty.
As we honored Liu Xiaobo on this beach, I thought of the other side of the ocean—on the banks of the Qiantang River in Zhejiang—where seven people who cherished freedom once lit candles and offered flowers in his memory. For that act, they remain in prison to this day. Such stories have repeated themselves over the years: mourning becomes a crime, and memory a taboo. But precisely because of this, we cannot remain silent.
Among those who participated in this vigil were elder Zhu Yufu, who was imprisoned for fighting for democracy; Wang Dan, a prominent leader of the 1989 student movement; young people who had just escaped from mainland China; and others who had lived in exile for years, whose families remain under persecution inside China. Some once stood shoulder to shoulder with Liu Xiaobo in 1989; others only came to understand the meaning of “freedom” upon reading Charter 08. We are all here. We are ordinary people. Holding candles in the wind, we are not trying to ignite some grand narrative—only to remind ourselves: remember him, remember what he believed in. Don’t let this chair remain empty forever.
Some have asked me, “What’s the point of this?” In a world numbed by indifference, many no longer believe that remembrance has meaning. But I have always believed: to remember is to resist. When a regime spares no effort to erase truth, block history, and isolate people from each other, then even a group of people lighting candles and reading poems on a beach is proof that someone still remembers.
Liu Xiaobo once said, “I have no enemies.” To a regime that treated him with utter brutality, this was a profound humiliation—and an extraordinary act of courage. Even in prison, he held firm to the belief in nonviolence, in reason and dialogue, as the path toward constitutional democracy and liberty in China. For this belief, he paid the ultimate price. His unfinished dream now rests on all of us.
Over the years, I have seen countless Xiaobos: writers forced from their homes, young people harassed for speaking truth, girls beaten by plainclothes thugs for supporting Hong Kong’s protests, dissidents holding banners in lonely defiance… They may not know each other, but they are all on the same road to freedom. Together they form an invisible web—a legacy Liu Xiaobo left behind. A spirit that refuses to grow numb, refuses to forget, refuses to submit.
Tonight, the waves crash again and again. The clouds have obscured the stars. The wind is blowing from the direction of the mainland. And yet, I still believe: one day, someone will sit in that chair. Not because a single person is powerful enough to change everything, but because more and more people choose to remember, choose to stand up, choose to keep a chair for freedom.
May Liu Xiaobo rest in peace.
May we live worthy of the meaning behind that empty chair.
Freedom will not be absent forever—so long as we remember.
Action by the China Democracy Party Los Angeles Committee and the Liberty Sculpture Park:July 16 – CDP Los Angeles Chapter
The Power of Exile: A Dialogue Between Tibet and China’s Democracy Movement
Exile is not silence. Exile is a form of strength.
From Dharamshala to Los Angeles, the torch of freedom continues to burn.
[Weiming Speaks]
“The Power of Exile: A Dialogue Between Tibet and China’s Democracy Movement”
Event Background:
For decades, the Tibetan people have, through exile, rebuilt their cultural, social, and political networks around the globe with unwavering faith, resilience, and organization. Meanwhile, China’s democracy movement finds itself at a turbulent crossroads.
This forum invites renowned sculptor Chen Weiming to share his personal encounter with the 14th Dalai Lama, and to reflect on the Tibetan government-in-exile’s development as a case study. The discussion will explore:
• How do exiled communities sustain long-term political vision?
• How can the Chinese pro-democracy movement establish lasting dialogue with international society?
• What can we learn from Tibetan organizational strength and cultural preservation?
• Under harsh CCP suppression, what breakthroughs are still possible?
Falun Gong :720 Rally and Parade – 26th Anniversary of Opposing the Persecution
The day’s anti-persecution events will consist of four main parts (Eastern Time):
1. Public Rally (Live Streamed)
📍 Time: 12:00 PM – 1:00 PM
Speeches by U.S. elected officials and representatives from non-governmental organizations will be delivered to show support for Falun Gong and call for an end to the persecution.
2. Grand Parade (Live Streamed Online and on TV)
📍 Time: 1:30 PM – 3:00 PM
📍 Route: From the rally site (4th Street), marching along Pennsylvania Avenue, ending at Freedom Plaza.
3. Capitol Hill Forum:
Ending the Persecution of Falun Gong and Supporting the Tuidang Movement (Quitting the CCP)
📍 Time: 4:00 PM – 6:00 PM
📍 Location: Congressional Auditorium, U.S. Capitol Visitor Center
4. Candlelight Vigil
To commemorate Falun Gong practitioners who lost their lives due to the persecution by the Chinese Communist Party.
📍 7:00 PM – 8:30 PM: Group Falun Gong meditation/exercise
Commemorating the 8th Anniversary of Liu Xiaobo’s Death|Chinese Community in Irvine Holds Forum
Calls for Reflection on Authoritarianism and Commitment to Freedom
By: Zhao Xuefeng, Yuan Feng Date: July 13, 2025
Editor: He Qingfeng Chief Editors: Luo Zhifei, Lu Huiwen Translation: Lu Huiwen
On July 13, 2025, marking the eighth anniversary of the death of Nobel Peace Prize laureate Liu Xiaobo, a thematic forum titled “Under the Shadow of Dictatorship: How Do We Continue the Road to Freedom?” was held in Irvine, Southern California. The event was co-organized by the China Democracy Party, the Chinese Democracy Education Foundation, and the Los Angeles China Democracy Platform. Conducted both online and in person, the forum attracted many Chinese attendees concerned about the future of democracy in China.
The forum was hosted by convenor Zhao Xuefeng, who opened the event by briefly reviewing Liu Xiaobo’s lifelong struggle and the immense sacrifice he made for the cause of Chinese democracy. He emphasized, “Liu Xiaobo was not only a scholar and writer, but a practitioner of conscience — a pioneer who embodied the spirit of freedom and democracy with his life.”
Li Jinshan then read selected passages from Charter 08, paying tribute to this significant document that envisions constitutional democracy for China. All attendees stood for a one-minute moment of silence in remembrance of Liu Xiaobo, who defended freedom of speech and human dignity with his life.
The atmosphere at the forum was solemn and moving. Three eyewitnesses of the 1989 Tiananmen Massacre — Fang Zheng, Wang Yingguo, and Lin Yueming — attended in person and gave speeches. They recalled the harrowing scenes of that historic moment and shared personal memories of their interactions with Liu Xiaobo, moving many in the audience. They unanimously stated that it was that history — and Liu Xiaobo’s figure within it — that ignited their enduring democratic aspirations.
Excerpts from Speeches:
• Yuan Ping: “Charter 08 is a peaceful and rational declaration in pursuit of constitutional democracy in China. It teaches us that freedom is never a gift from power — it is the people’s inherent right.”
• Lin Jiajie: “Liu Xiaobo’s nonviolent resistance and independent thought inspired a generation. Even behind bars, his resolve never wavered, demonstrating the noble force of moral conviction.”
• Yuan Feng: “In today’s reality — where speech is tightly controlled and overseas infiltration grows more aggressive — Liu Xiaobo’s early warnings are coming true one by one. The regime can imprison bodies, but it cannot imprison thought.”
• Xian Wenjun: “Commemoration is not only about mourning, but about inheritance. To honor a man of conscience is to rekindle the flame. Speaking out is how we keep history from going silent.”
The meeting lasted two and a half hours. Attendees engaged in deep discussion around the theme: “How to uphold personal conscience and public expression under the current authoritarian pressure.”
Li Xianbing, Li Maoyi, Li Jianxun, Li Ning, Wu Hongbin, Zhang Junjie, Huang Li, and others also delivered remarks, sharing their reflections on the prospects for freedom in China.
In conclusion, the organizers called on Chinese people worldwide to continue upholding universal values such as freedom, human rights, and the rule of law. Under the shadow of authoritarianism, they urged unwavering resistance, the inheritance of Liu Xiaobo’s spirit, and using that light to guide the future of the Chinese nation.