投稿者 Foreign Affairs January / February 2001 日時 2001 年 1 月 07 日 10:42:16:
回答先: 天安門事件をめぐる未公開文書を米誌が公開 投稿者 1/6 読売 日時 2001 年 1 月 07 日 10:35:21:
The Tiananmen Papers
Introduced by Andrew J. Nathan
In China today, economic reform continues apace. Political
liberalization, however, remains essentially frozen -- as it has been since
the tragic suppression of student demonstrations in the spring of 1989.
The massive student protests, which filled Beijing's Tiananmen Square
and other public places in cities throughout China, were meant to push
the country's authoritarian rulers toward political reform. They failed.
Now, an unprecedented trove of hitherto secret documents provides an
extraordinary account of the divisions among China's top leaders as
they confronted the uprising. Some sought accommodation through
dialogue with the students. These moderates lost out, however, to those
who came to favor repression by military force. "The Tiananmen
Papers" -- adapted from a forthcoming book of the same title -- reveals
through the minutes of secret meetings and classified reports the power
struggles, changing fortunes, and bloody decisions that still haunt China's
political life today.
The verbatim accounts of the leaders' deliberations are neither black nor
white. All the leaders started with the intention to resolve the protests
peacefully, while maintaining Communist Party control and enforcing
public order. Sentiment for using military force swelled as key leaders
came to fear that "outsiders" who wanted to topple the regime were
encouraging the demonstrations. Some readers may judge this a story of
pragmatic, if authoritarian, leaders struggling unsuccessfully with tough
problems. Others will render harsher verdicts. Whatever the
interpretation, the Tiananmen tragedy remains compelling because its
effects linger, suffocating political liberalization.
What of the credibility of the documents and of those who spirited them
out of China with the hope of re-energizing political reform? Extensive
efforts at authentication by three respected American scholars are
detailed in the book. The editor of Foreign Affairs conferred at length
with them and with the Chinese compiler and concurred that there are
"convincing grounds" to assume that the documents are credible and
therefore should be published. An absolute judgment is
not possible,
however, given the secretive and close nature of the Chinese regime.
The 1989 demonstrations were begun by Beijing students to encourage
continued economic reform and liberalization. The students did not set
out to pose a mortal challenge to what they knew was a dangerous
regime. Nor did the regime relish the use of force against the students.
The two sides shared many goals and much common language. Yet,
through miscommunication and misjudgment, they pushed one another
into positions where options for compromise became less and less
available.
The spark for the student movement was a desire to commemorate the
reformer Hu Yaobang, who had died on April 15. He had been
replaced two years earlier as general secretary (party leader) by
another moderate, Zhao Ziyang, after student demonstrations in
December 1986. Once begun, however, the commemoration quickly
evolved into a protest for far-reaching change. On May 4, a student
declaration was read in Tiananmen Square calling on the government to
accelerate political and economic reform, guarantee constitutional
freedoms, fight corruption, adopt a press law, and allow the
establishment of privately run newspapers.
Zhao Ziyang struggled to achieve consensus within the leadership
around a conciliatory line toward the students. Senior leader Deng
Xiaoping seemed willing to consider anything, so long as the students
were somehow cleared from the square in time for Soviet leader
Mikhail Gorbachev's upcoming summit visit. But disaster struck for
Zhao Ziyang's moderate strategy on May 13, when the protesting
students announced a hunger strike. During the next few days, the
intellectuals joined in, incidents in the provinces began to erupt, and the
summit that the authorities envisioned as a triumphant climax to years of
diplomacy with the Soviet Union was thrown into the shadows. The
huge foreign press contingent that had come to Beijing for the summit
turned its main attention to the student movement.
Over the course of several weeks, the hunger strikers gained the
support of tens of millions of other citizens, who took to the streets in
scores of cities to demand a response from the government.
The
government at first tried to wait out the hunger strikers, then engaged
them in limited dialogue, and finally issued orders to force them from the
square. In reaching that decision, the party suffered its worst high-level
split since the Cultural Revolution. Those favoring political reform lost
out and their cause has been in the deep freeze ever since.
The regime has, to be sure, diminished the range of social activities it
purports to control in comparison with the totalitarian ambitions of its
Maoist years. It has fitted its goals of control more to its means and no
longer aspires to change human nature. It has learned that many arenas
of freedom are inessential to the monopoly of political power.
The documents in this article provide the first view of the student
demonstrations from Zhongnanhai -- the former imperial park at the
center of Beijing that houses the Party Central Office, the State Council
Office, and the residences of some top leaders. Although the leaders
occupied distinct official posts in a triad of organizations -- the ruling
Chinese Communist Party, the State Council (government cabinet), and
the Central Military Commission -- behind those red walls they acted as
a small and often informal community of perhaps ten decision-makers
and their staffs.
The eight "elders," retired senior officials who together amounted to
China's extraconstitutional final court of appeal, joined their
deliberations at crucial moments. The final voice belonged to Deng
Xiaoping, who was retired from all government posts except one and
lived outside Zhongnanhai in a private mansion with his own office staff.
It was at this house that the most crucial meetings of these tormented
months took place.
Into Zhongnanhai flowed a river of documentation from the agencies
charged with monitoring and controlling the capital city of Beijing and
the vast nation beyond it. On a daily and hourly basis Party Central
received classified reports from government, military, and party
agencies and diplomatic missions abroad. The material included reports
on the state of mind of students, professors, party officials, military
officers and troops, workers, farmers, shop clerks, street peddlers,
and
others around the country. Also captured in these reports is the thinking
of provincial and central leaders on policy issues; the traffic on railways;
discussions in private meetings; man-in-the-street interviews; and press,
academic, and political opinion from abroad. Taken as a whole, these
reports tell in extraordinary detail what the central decision-makers saw
as they looked out from their compound on the events unfolding around
them, and how they evaluated the threat to their rule.
The records reveal that if left to their own preferences the three-man
majority of the Politburo Standing Committee would have voted to
persist in dialogue with the students instead of declaring martial law.
But, as the Tiananmen papers reveal, the Politburo Standing Committee
was obligated by a secret intra-party resolution to refer any stalemate to
Deng and the elders. The documents further show that Deng exercised
absolute control over the military through his associate Yang Shangkun,
who was president of the prc and standing vice chair of the Central
Military Commission. Had the Standing Committee refused to honor the
elders' wishes, Deng had ample means to exert his authority.
China's current leader, Jiang Zemin, was party secretary in Shanghai in
1989. What The Tiananmen Papers reveals is that his accession to
supreme power came about through a constitutionally irregular
procedure -- the vote of the elders on May 27 -- and that the elders
chose him because he was a pliable and cautious figure who was
outside the paralyzing factional fray that had created the crisis in the first
place.
Today's second-ranking member of the party hierarchy, Li Peng, was
premier in 1989. Not only did he advocate a hard line against the
students and go on television to declare martial law, as is already
known, but the papers show that he manipulated information to lead
Deng and the other elders to see the demonstrations as an attack on
them personally and on the political structure they had devoted their
careers to creating. The Tiananmen Papers also reveals his use of the
intelligence and police agencies to collect information that was used to
persecute liberal officials and intellectuals after th
e crackdown.
Both Li Peng and Jiang Zemin are scheduled to step down from their
high-level party and state offices in 2002 and 2003. Some
commentators expect Jiang will try to retain his third post, that of
chairman of the Central Military Commission, thus enabling him to exert
influence as a party elder from behind the scenes, as Deng did in the
period described in The Tiananmen Papers.
The events of 1989 left the regime positioned for its responses to later
challenges, such as the Chinese Democratic Party in 1998-99 and the
Falun Gong religious movement since 1999. In both of these incidents
and others, the key to the party's behavior was its fear of independent
organizations, whether of religious followers or students, workers or
farmers, with or without a broad social base, and with or without party
members as constituents. The core political issue has remained what it
was in 1989, even if the sociology has been different: the party believes
that as soon as it gives in to any demand from any group that it does not
control, then the power monopoly that it views as the indispensable
organizational principle of the political system will be destroyed.