BEIJING — A single gunshot echoed in Tiananmen Square.
As the race starter pointed his pistol toward the blue sky and fired, Olympic runners began their 26.2-mile trek through the same streets where tanks rolled and protesters were murdered 19 years ago.
How far the Chinese have come from a shameful night in 1989 to the triumphant final morning of the Summer Games has been the real marathon journey.
So maybe it’s time to ask: Did the Olympics, a grandiose, $40 billion gesture, succeed in putting a fresh face on a country running hard to escape its past?
“I still hear the bullets and can’t help but see the dead bodies. How could I forget? I had never seen people murdered before,” said Vail resident Merv Lapin, who witnessed the carnage that ended the Tiananmen Square protests in the early morning hours of June 4, 1989.
From his perch on the balcony of a 13th-floor suite in the Beijing Hotel, Lapin heard the ominous clatter of a tank, accompanied by soldiers carrying machine guns, moving down Chang’an Avenue. He realized the rumor, whispered earlier in the evening by the driver of his bicycle taxi, was going to be deadly accurate. Communist leaders had decided it was time to end six weeks of unruly protests in the heart of the capital city.
What happened next makes the hair stand up on Lapin’s neck nearly two decades after a tragedy that changed both him and China forever.
“The students and protesters camped in the square marched out to this wide street with their arms locked to confront the military. All of a sudden, those soldiers went down on a knee and fired into the crowd. Then, all pandemonium broke loose,” said Lapin, a longtime hockey coach of American and Chinese teams. “I saw dead bodies all over the place. There was blood on the white marble steps of the hotel. In the morning, there were buses on fire and smoke from tires in the air. I saw a motorcycle policeman who had been killed and burned in the street.”
These Summer Games were raised from those deaths, in a reformed China born of a massacre.
From human rights violations in Tibet to choking smog in Beijing, the problems of China remain as big as the country itself.
But as the Olympics pack up and depart, have new memories of swimmer Michael Phelps making a splash in the Water Cube finally become stronger than that old, disconcerting image of a lone Chinese martyr summoning the courage to stop a tank?
Tiananmen Square is the face of China. And few nations have undergone such a rapid, extreme makeover since those dying laborers and students shouted at their government: “Why are you killing us?”
Before “Tank Man” spurred an economic and social revolution in China with a single outstretched hand, rock music was seldom heard, and the sporting life was the click-clack of a table tennis paddle. In the 21st century, however, basketball superstar Yao Ming is not only treated as a rock star, he is paid like one, earning $50 million per year.
As his country secured first place in the gold-medal count, Yao proudly said: “When I grow old and look back, these memories of the 2008 Beijing Olympics will be my most precious personal riches.”
Would the place where Chairman Mao preached austerity now be buzzing from Starbucks and honking with BMWs if not for a clash in the streets of Beijing that resulted in anywhere from 250 to upward of 3,000 deaths, depending on whose grim statistics you believe?
Yet the massacre remains such a taboo topic among the Chinese that when it is mentioned in Beijing, a hand reflexively covers the speaker’s mouth, and the infamous date “liu-si” is uttered with the same pained expression as when Americans say ” 9/11.”
“1989 a very bad but very important year in China,” 20-year-old student Zhang Limin said one night at the huge Bird’s Nest track stadium.
Two days before the opening ceremony, an American woman had placed roses in Tiananmen to honor those who died as a result of the long-ago military crackdown, while a “Free Tibet” banner was strung up miles away, within sight of many big Olympic venues. Authorities quickly ended both disturbances. Official protest zones specifically designated for the Games have gone empty, discouraged from use.
During the Olympics, I had been reluctant to enter Tiananmen, due to my own uncomfortable recollection of the square. In August 1989, with tension high throughout Beijing, I snapped photos near the Monument to the Heroes, against the advice of my nervous guide.
On that summer day 19 years ago, that small act of defiance was stopped with guns pointed at my head by soldiers who came running. The film from my camera was confiscated. The ensuing 15-minute interrogation, however, ended with nothing worse than frayed nerves one never forgets.
But I also will be forever grateful for this chance to return to China. For to know the citizens of Beijing, who will hip-check a foreigner to win a seat in a crowded subway and also cheerfully chase a tourist down the street to return a cellphone left in a restaurant, is to fall in love with their undeniable spirit.
“Tiananmen Square caused China to choose sides about what kind of country it wanted to be,” said Lapin, who has made 50 trips to this rising world power. “Liu-si caused a nation of 1.3 billion to change its course.”
On a recent night at the Summer Games, a joyous mood filled Tiananmen, for too long an international symbol of a country at its worst. The massive public square was now alive with pride.
A young Chinese girl waved a tiny Olympic flag. A jogging father flew a kite, laughter from his son in quick pursuit. Everywhere you looked, smiling people posed for photographs to record how far China has come.
I stopped, feeling a tingle on the back of my neck.
Goose bumps.
Mark Kiszla: 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com
