The Chinese government, under the direction of Jiang Zemin, has been persecuting Falung Gong for over two and a half years. Falun Gong practitioners in China are beaten, tortured, raped and slandered by a massive propaganda campaign for following a spiritual practice. I have been practicing Falun Gong for almost two years now and decided to go to Tiananmen Square to peacefully appeal to the Chinese government. About 50 other Westerners decided to go as well.
I arrived in China on Monday, Feb. 11 and went to Tiananmen that Thursday. On the morning of the appeal I felt nervous and jittery, as if I was going onstage for a performance. As soon as I stepped out of the hotel and started walking towards Tiananmen Square, my mind became as clear as crystal. There was no sentimentality or selfishness in my heart, just determination to give Chinese people a chance to decide their own future.
I happened to be traveling with two others to save money on travel experiences. As we walked through the tunnel leading to the square, some policemen stopped us and asked to see our passports and search our bags. When I noticed that the police were only stopping Westerners, I realized that they were tipped off. My heart began pounding. I thought, “Oh no! I have Li Hongzhi’s lectures on tape in my bag!” Li is Falun Gong’s founder; if the police found the tapes, I would have been detained and prevented from making my appeal. I looked at the police officer and just thought “Don’t open that bag. Don’t open that bag.” He opened it, glanced in and gave it back to me, despite the bag being filled with tapes.
One of the people walking with me got held up by the police, so the other two of us had to leave him behind; the protest was more important than us staying in a group. As we walked up the stairs to the square, trying to look casual, we ran into another checkpoint, and my other traveling partner was held up. I went on alone. My heart was thumping, but my mind was clear and calm. I knew what I had to do, what I most desired to do for the Chinese people.
The square was packed with policemen, both uniformed and plainclothes. It was obvious that they knew and had been planning for a large group of people, for the police had brought a tour bus to the edge of the square. It didn’t matter to me how many policemen there were; I wanted to reach out to as many people as I could. I strolled around the square for a few minutes, then held up my banner, which read, “Truthfulness, Compassion and Tolerance” in Chinese. I shouted to anyone who could hear it, “Falun Gong Hao! (Falun Gong is good!)” A few seconds later, I was grabbed by a pair of policemen and thrown into a police van. There were five of us practitioners there, all singing a song called “Falun Gong Hao” as loudly and beautifully as we could. Our hope was that the policemen would never forget that song.
The police threw us out of the vans and shoved us into a narrow corridor in the police station with about 10 other practitioners. We sang “Falun Gong Hao” over and over again while trying not to be separated by the police. A plainclothes officer slapped me in the face a few times. I tried to clarify the truth about Falun Gong to the policemen as best I could with my limited Chinese, telling them how much it had improved my life and how it was one of the best aspects of Chinese culture. The police were shocked to hear a Westerner speaking Chinese.
I was eventually brought into the police station where my photo was taken. I sat down with the other practitioners there and began to meditate in the full lotus position. Some policemen tried to get me to stand up and walk with them, but I wouldn’t cooperate with them because they arrested me illegally. They had to pick me up and separate my legs. They brought me to a tour bus and shoved me into a seat. I clarified the truth of Falun Gong and its persecution in China to the young guard sitting next to me, who accompanied me off the bus.
As I stepped off the bus, a female police officer “greeted” me, shouting as if she hated me, and another man grabbed my chin and made an intimidating face, as if he was threatening to hit me. The guard from the bus and a big police thug led me into a “hotel” transformed into a detention center, shoving me up the stairs. When another practitioner and I began to sing the “Falun Gong Hao” song, the thug slapped me hard in the face several times. When a nearby elevator opened, he kicked me in the back, shoving me into the elevator with his foot. He hit me again in the face when I entered, slamming my head into the wall of the elevator.
After we left the elevator they brought me into a hotel room. They asked me for my personal information and then left. In their place entered another young guard and two policewomen. The two women questioned me for approximately five to six hours, asking me my name, why I had come, who had organized the journey (no one) and so on. I explained to them that they had broken the law, not me. When I asked to call my embassy, they would not let me, explaining that I was their “guest” and not under arrest.
They then brought me to a lounge room with three others. We stayed there for the next 15 hours. Eventually there were 11 of us in the room, with about 10 to 15 young guards accompanying us. They were very kindhearted and did not know much about Falun Gong. I tried to be compassionate to them and explain to them the truth about Falun Gong and what was occurring in China. Although there were still a lot of things that the guards didn’t understand about Falun Gong, I could see that their opinions about the practice were changing and that they were gaining a deep respect for us.
Once my bags were retrieved and my flight was set I was shipped to the airport and driven near the plane I was boarding. As we approached the plane I noticed that a lot of higher officials and airline personnel were there. My purpose of coming to China was to tell people the truth about Falun Gong, so I wanted to say something to them. A couple of other American Falun Gong practitioners must have had that same mindset, for they shouted “Falun Gong Hao” to the people below as they climbed the stairs to the plane.
The thug who accompanied me throughout most of my detention noticed this and threatened me, “You’d better stay quiet,” putting his arm around my head as if he would strike me if I spoke. At first I just felt sorry that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to say anything to those officials, but then I thought, “Who is this criminal to tell a good person like me what to do? Even if he beats me I will still tell others the truth about Falun Gong, because it’s important for them and their futures.” I shouted “Falun Gong Hao” at the top of my lungs to all the people in attendance below. The thug grappled my neck so I could barely breathe and couldn’t shout.
As we entered the terminal to the plane I said calmly to him in Chinese, “Falun Gong is a righteous way. Don’t persecute Falun Gong.” I sincerely hope he listened to me. I boarded the plane, joining 23 other detained American practitioners, and set off for home.
