Lawyer's Tea House (Volumes 1-4) Combined Edition

Author: Miyamoto Ken / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-01-01
Features: Demonstrations have been around for several years abroad, and I’ve seen many of them. Demonstrations are a constitutional right of citizens in modern society and fall under the category of freedom of expression. They are a way for citizens to express their support or opposition to certain issues. However, like other rights, the exercise of this right must comply with constitutional order and cannot infringe on the rights and freedoms of others. The principle is straightforward, but different countries and cultural backgrounds have distinct characteristics when exercising the right to demonstrate.
When I was young, I lived through the Cultural Revolution and participated in many demonstrations. Back then, society had already lost its normal order. Even as a mere Red Guard, I knew that the more disruptive the demonstration, the more attention it would attract. For example, we would demonstrate in front of the city hall, demanding the mayor support our faction. If he didn’t come out, bold boys would throw stones at the windows. In my view, there are two types of demonstrations: those expressing support and those expressing opposition. Regardless of the type, as long as it’s a demonstration, it seems to have to provoke some reaction.
In the early 1980s, I studied in the United States at the University of California, Berkeley, known as the "paradise of liberals." There, I witnessed American students’ campus demonstrations for the first time. At the time, South Africa was enforcing an apartheid policy, and many countries around the world had imposed sanctions on it. Under these circumstances, Berkeley University engaged in research collaboration with a South African government agency. Students believed that the university’s actions were essentially supporting apartheid, which contradicted American political and moral values. At Berkeley, such protests were perfectly normal. What interested me was their method of demonstration. In front of the university administration building, students had been gathered for days. Sleeping bags were scattered haphazardly, with some sitting and others lying down. They lay along the path leading to the building, ensuring their bodies did not block the way or obstruct traffic. Police officers, chewing gum and crossing their arms, strolled casually. If a demonstrator’s leg crossed the line and disrupted the building’s normal operations, the police cars waiting nearby would promptly arrest and take them away.
Observing all this, I found it amusing, as if watching a game. After a while, I gradually understood the system and realized that it was indeed a game—a game played strictly according to the rules. Demonstrations are a constitutional right of citizens, but the exercise of this right must adhere to rules. The basic rule is that exercising rights should not interfere with others’ lives or normal public order.
Another memorable demonstration took place in Memphis, Tennessee. This is where Martin Luther King Jr., a leader of the American civil rights movement, was assassinated. On April 4, 1968, he was shot in a motel in Memphis from across the street. To commemorate this advocate of nonviolent resistance, the modest motel was converted into a memorial. Opposite the memorial, at the spot where the assassin’s bullet came from, stood a dilapidated red-brick building, somewhat like an abandoned factory. In front of the building stood a persistent demonstrator: an African American woman in black clothes, looking gaunt. Beside her was a flatbed truck loaded with ragged clothes and supplies, no different from a homeless person’s. From the banner standing on the truck, I learned that this demonstrator was not a supporter of Martin Luther King Jr. but an opponent, representing a group that opposed nonviolent resistance. Since the opening of the Martin Luther King Jr. Museum, she has been demonstrating there, expressing her political stance on a large banner: "Boycott the Wrong Museum" (the English word "right" also means "correct," so she used "wrong" to correspond).
I call her a "persistent demonstrator" because she has been demonstrating there for decades. Day after day, a young and beautiful girl has aged into a middle-aged woman. From a political perspective, she is a violent extremist, opposing not the government or the assassin who killed Martin Luther King Jr., but the moderate resistance advocated by him. In terms of her demonstration methods, she is mild, expressing her political views within the bounds of constitutional order. She does not block traffic or disrupt the museum’s operations. When she saw me approaching, she lowered her head and patted the banner beside her, handing me a flyer that mainly advocated violent action against social injustice.
I don’t understand how such a quiet, professional demonstrator could persist for years without stopping. My companion told me that behind her may be a church or a civilian organization, using her dedication to express a political stance.
Later, when I shared my experiences with my landlord, Anne, at Yale University, she smiled and said, "This is the right guaranteed by our constitutional amendments, part of 'peaceful assembly and petition.' Tomorrow, I’ll take you to our clinic to see the demonstrators." The clinic she referred to was actually a community abortion clinic. Abortion is a sharp political issue in the U.S. "Pro-Life" or "Pro-Choice" represents two entirely different social forces. Anne was a "Pro-Choice" advocate and volunteered at the clinic every week, mainly to pick up women coming for abortions and see them off. That day, the weather was very cold, so I asked, "On such a cold day, will the demonstrators come?" "No matter the weather," she replied.
Sure enough, in the distance, I saw a minivan with the slogan "Against Killing!" An old man holding a megaphone was shouting, his voice hoarse but full of vigor. "God made women to be mothers, yet mothers kill their own children—you will be punished!" When we came out of the car, he shouted at Anne, "You’re the devil! You’re an accomplice!" Anne smiled and said, "You’ve crossed the line." The old man lowered his gaze at his feet and muttered, "Sorry," then quickly withdrew his feet from the lawn.
Anne told me that the old man had been demonstrating there for years. According to city regulations, his car could only be parked at the roadside, and he could not enter the lawn. People were not allowed to use megaphones during rest periods, and they had to take away their trash every day. I jokingly said that such demonstrations were too restrained. The old man recognized me as an outsider, pulled out a stack of pamphlets from his cotton coat, and handed them to me, saying, "Nine came yesterday—nine lives! God will not forgive them!"
Inside the building, I watched the old man’s performance from the window. He spoke rhythmically, alternating between giving speeches with the megaphone and reading materials, even though no one was around. He still carried out his duties with precision.
I’ve also seen demonstrations used to escalate conflicts. In the summer of 1998, I attended an international conference in Manila, the capital of the Philippines. After getting off the plane, I went to the arrivals hall to collect my luggage but waited nearly an hour without any movement. Realizing this wasn’t just an efficiency issue, passengers began asking around. Finally, someone replied in very difficult English, "Luggage can’t be retrieved because airport ground workers are on strike, demanding higher wages. They’ve locked the luggage in the hold as leverage against the authorities." This left the passengers in a tough spot.
My situation wasn’t too bad because my toiletries were in my carry-on, but my companion had checked all her belongings. We sat helplessly on the motionless carousel, unsure of what to do. Hours later, an announcement sounded, telling passengers to go wherever they were told and that their luggage would only be released after the authorities reached an agreement with the workers. The Manila taxi drivers were exceptionally polite, constantly saying, "Yes, madam," because their accents were so strong that "yes, madam" sounded like "yes, mom."
I grumbled, "You’re so fake—holding our luggage while pretending to be polite." The drivers remained humble, "Yes, madam, our workers have no other choice." The next day’s newspaper headline was "Government Shows Firm Stance Against Airport Worker Strike." I thought, "Now we’re really in trouble—no luggage before we leave." It wasn’t until the third day that the government reached an agreement with the demonstrators, and our luggage was finally released. My companion had to buy new toiletries, which was quite expensive.
Upon reflection, demonstrations as a form of freedom of expression have profound. Expression itself is the purpose, not the social consequences that may arise from it, which are then used as pressure to achieve certain goals. In international human rights documents, the exercise of the right to peaceful petition is explicitly stated to "be conducted in accordance with the law and in a manner that maintains national or public safety, public order, public health, or morality, or protects the freedom and rights of others." Any exercise of rights that violates these principles is inappropriate. A civilized order of demonstrations is part of a mature democratic system. Therefore, observing different forms of demonstrations is a window into the quality of a nation’s citizens. (P15-18)