Dear Reader,1
You know him from Jeff Widener’s photo.
Nameless, faceless. Anonymous in his clerical dress of white shirt and black pants. Both hands full of groceries.
The night before, Chinese authorities violently dispersed the Tiananmen Square protestors, killing hundreds or perhaps thousands. A column of tanks left the square the morning of June 5, 1989, the red work largely done. Their path intersected with that of the nondescript man, doubtless hurrying through a morning routine amidst the chaos.
Then, something broke in him.
Enough
Who knows if he had supported the protests, who knows if he considered himself a political person at all—but this was instinctual, free from theory, a pure cry of the human spirit: Enough.
He stood in front of the lead tank, swinging his grocery bags at it in defiance. It twice tried to maneuver around him; he twice hopped to the side to meet it. He climbed the tank and even spoke with the befuddled crew.
Everyone watching thought he would be crushed.
Nameless, faceless; devoured by the machinery of oppression with the others.
Then a trio of bystanders rushed forward and hustled him away, human beings moved to courage and pity by his supremely human act. He vanished from the viewfinder and into history.
This is all we know of Tank Man.
This may also be all the Chinese government, for all its surveillance, knows of him too. There is a concerning absence of information about him or the fate of the tank crew that spoke with him, which suggests an ominous end. Yet, while rumors as to his identity and fate persist, the consensus is that he made it out alive.
Rebel, Known But to God
Was this a wild break from the life he vanished back into? Was it consistent with all he was and had been up to that point in his life?
I think the latter.
The philosophers tell us that virtue is built by habit, not by grand acts of self-denial. This man, whoever he is, may not have been political—as much as that was possible in a totalitarian state—but he must have been someone who cared for those around him, someone quietly courageous in the trials daily life brings.
He had no strategy. The bulk of casualties had already been accumulated. But he heard his conscience and said Enough.
He did not bring down the Chinese state. He did not publish a great work of theory. He did not attend an organizer training.
But by his courage he has inspired billions.
Nameless, faceless, the template on which countless human beings have based their courage and defiance.
If the man is still alive, he is likely unaware of his fame due to censorship.
But he knows what he did and who he is.
Rebel, known but to God.
The Billion Names and Faces of Tank Man
Yesterday, the DHS Secretary Noem said that the National Guard and Marines were sent to Los Angeles to “liberate” the city from its democratically-elected leadership. Reacting vehemently to this was California’s senior senator, who was wrestled to the ground and detained. Meanwhile, the language of the National Guard mobilization authorizes its deployment anywhere nationwide for any amount of time. The Republican governor of Texas has already called out the National Guard in the face of largely uneventful protests.
Tomorrow, millions of Americans will participate in nonviolent protest against the policies and actions of this president. This has been months in the planning, meant to coincide with the un-American military parade that no one believes has been assembled for the Army’s glory, but for the president’s birthday.
As I wrote Monday, I do not think it is coincidental that the crackdown in L.A. happened the week before the No Kings demonstrations.
Others have agreed.
You may not be a political person. You may be afraid (hell, I am).
But if you have seen and heard Enough of the disregard for human dignity and our Constitution, I encourage you to go out and exercise peacefully your rights to speech, press, and assembly tomorrow. Join a No Kings protest here.
Because you will have to live with who you are and what you did.
There will be no Pt. 3 of my The Handmaid’s Tale critique for the foreseeable future, as we are living through a dystopian narrative of our own.