China Beijing Spring

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Then the unthinkable happened. So many officials disagreed with Deng's directive to smash the protest that he was forced to rescind it. Some 100 staff members at the People's Daily signed a letter to their bosses challenging the paper's harsh editorial. Within the party, opposition to a crackdown was no less vehement. "The real dissatisfaction of the cadres was made known to Li shortly after the editorial was presented," said a knowledgeable Communist Party member. "They feared that if the leaders suppressed the demonstration and blood was shed, it would be like a big fire that would burn not only in Beijing but nationwide."

Most decisive was the reaction of the security forces to Deng's directive. The chief of Beijing's Public Security Bureau reportedly tried to step down rather than suppress the demonstration. Finally, cooler heads prevailed, and a last-minute decision was made to greet the marchers with unarmed policemen.

For their part, the students took care not to trigger a showdown. In the streets they outmaneuvered the police and kept tight ranks to prevent provocateurs from causing an incident. By constantly quoting the constitution to justify their rally, they presented themselves as anything but wild-eyed radicals. To silence criticism that they are "antiparty" or "anti- socialist," students stopped denigrating Deng and Li. Peking University students carried a banner reading WE RESOLUTELY SUPPORT THE CORRECT LEADERSHIP INSIDE THE PARTY. Asked which leaders were correct, however, one of the students holding the banner quipped, "None."

To broaden their movement beyond the campuses, the students framed their demands so they would appeal to workers and peasants as well as to the intelligentsia. In addition to their traditional demands for freedom of assembly and the press and greater "democracy," this time they pushed for a new campaign against government corruption -- an increasingly popular issue among the masses -- and for China's leaders to make public their personal financial holdings. "Many of these students took part in the 1986-87 protests," said a graduate of the University of Politics and Law who is now a government official. "They have learned their lessons, and they now know which means would work and which would not."

Jia Guangxi is a good example. The son of two physicians, he lived a comfortable middle-class life before arriving at Peking University this year. He was only a halfhearted participant in the original rally on April 16. "I was rather doubtful that it could lead to anything useful," he says. Only after the police roughed up demonstrators in front of Zhongnanhai compound, where China's top leaders officially live and work, was he moved to strong action. Says he: "After that, all my social gripes came surging out, and I threw myself into the movement."

But Jia is hardly a firebrand. He still holds three youth posts at the university. And he intends to apply for membership in the Communist Party soon. "I idolize the party just as Christians do their religion," he said. "If China must establish some ideology, we should rely on the party."