On December 28th, Beijing time, Wang Dan, the student leader of the June 4th Tiananmen Incident, announced his mother’s death on Facebook. His mother, Wang Lingyun, passed away at the age of 86. Wang Dan wrote a long 1,686-character tribute to his mother, recalling that after being arrested after the 1989 Tiananmen incident, his mother was detained for more than 50 days, resulting in atrophied legs and nearly disabled legs. His mother paid a heavy price for him.
To commemorate his mother, Wang Dan will donate $100,000 to establish the ‘Wang Lingyun Humanitarian Relief Fund’ in her name to help families of suffering political prisoners. It was also declared that, according to custom, the mother would mourn for seven days and not participate in any public activities.
In 2019, Wang Lingyun was interviewed by Hong Kong media, where she revealed that her greatest wish was for Wang Dan to return home to Beijing and stay by her side. Wang Lingyun said: We’re both over eighty now. I said I don’t have any other demands, just that my son can come to Beijing and come to my home, call me ‘Mom.’ Isn’t that too much? I was mentally prepared; it was also possible that in my lifetime, he might never come back. A prophetic statement came true: Wang Lingyun never lived to see that day, and Wang Dan could not see his mother one last time. Wang Dan, who was in the United States, was blacklisted by Chinese authorities and not allowed to return to China. In his obituary, Wang Dan directly pointed out, “This deep-seated blood feud must be held accountable on the CCP. I will engrave this in my heart and never forget it with deep resolve.”
Below is the full text of Wang Dan’s Facebook post mourning his mother:
Obituary to Friends and Relatives:
The person who loved me most in the world, the person I respected most in this world, my mother, Wang Lingyun, died suddenly of a cerebral hemorrhage on December 28, 2021, Beijing time, at the hospital on December 28, 2021, at the age of 86.
The only comfort I had amid my heartbreak was that it happened so suddenly. She didn’t suffer much pain and passed away peacefully in a coma. But all that remains is me, facing the pain, sorrow, eternal regret, and endless longing that will accompany me for life.
My mother graduated from the History Department of Peking University and then worked at the Chinese Revolution Museum (now the National Museum of China) for over forty years until retirement. She conducted deep research on modern Chinese history and the history of the Communist Party of China, and authored many works. Without me, her life would have been very smooth and peaceful. However, after the June Fourth incident in 1989, I was wanted. Just days after my arrest, the CCP authorities ruthlessly carried out a massive impeachment, detaining my mother for over fifty days, causing her calf muscles to atrophy and nearly leaving her disabled. To this day, authorities have not provided a reason for detention for such atrocities. After that, I was imprisoned twice. To rescue and protect me, she endured her inner sadness, bravely protested to the authorities, appealed to the world, and never yielded or flinched in the face of immense official pressure, even slamming the table to her face to slam the table and harshly denouncing senior CCP officials. She is the greatest and strongest mother in my heart.
During the six and a half years I spent two years in prison, she and my father and other family members visited the prison every month without ever stopping. There were even rumors that I would be sent to Xinjiang for labor reform. My mother told the police officers, “No matter how far you lock up my son, I will crawl every month to see him.” “In the winter of 1991, I was taken from Qincheng Prison to Beijing Detention Center, where I met my mother for the first time after the June Fourth incident. At the time, she didn’t tell me she had been in prison and suffered from a leg condition to avoid worrying me. After our meeting, I sat in the prison van, watching from afar my mother dragging one leg and staggering through the cold wind. I had once swore never to cry after entering prison, but no matter what, I couldn’t hold back my tears. It can be said that without the support of my mother and family, I simply could not have endured such a long prison life. But on the other hand, for me, my mother also paid a huge price. Having my mother shoulder such a heavy burden for me—I am the most unfilial son in the world. I wish she could stay healthy and live so I could do my best to make up for it. Now, that wish can no longer be fulfilled. If a child wishes to care for his parents but they do not wait for him, there is no greater pain in life.
After I was exiled to the United States, although almost every year my parents arranged to reunite with me abroad for a while, to somewhat make up for the family bond they had lost; But the authorities put me on a blacklist and forbade me from returning to China, forcing the elderly to travel thousands of miles to visit the victim. I remember once I traveled with my parents to San Francisco, and I wanted to book a better hotel for them. My father thought it was too expensive, so my mother said calmly, “Let him book it. If he pays us, how many more times can it be?” “Thinking of this sentence now, how could I not shed tears like a spring?” In her later years, my mother’s greatest wish was for me to return to my home in Beijing and be by her side, but in the end, she never lived to see that day; In the end, I couldn’t see my mother one last time. This deep-seated blood feud must be held on the CCP’s shoulders. I will engrave this in my heart and never forget it.
So far in my life, I’ve only had two experiences when my mind went blank and I couldn’t think: once on June 4, 1989, and once on December 27, 2021. The blow my mother’s death has dealt me so heavy that words cannot express it, nor can others imagine it. My mother passed away, and the pillars of my spiritual world collapsed. For me, this world was forever missing a corner.
But please rest assured, I will not let sadness overwhelm me; I will strive to be strong. Because I knew this was the greatest hope my mother’s spirit had for me in heaven. Mother and son have experienced imprisonment, exile, and the barriers of family bonds. My mother has given so much for me; she has never complained about me for a word, and she has always firmly supported my ideals. Because we share a consensus: in this era ruled by an evil regime in China, our suffering is the inevitable price that comes with holding onto our beliefs. I believe my mother will continue to watch over me from heaven and continue to care for me. She is gone, and I can only keep moving forward to comfort her spirit in heaven.
When my mother was alive, Chang Chang Chang advised me not to drink, saying drinking was bad for your health, but I never strictly followed the rules. Now that she is gone, I hereby declare: from this day forward, I will never touch alcohol for the rest of my life, as a tribute to her. I hope my mother can rest in peace, and it can be considered a late filial piety for a son.
Moreover, the latter half of her mother’s life destined her to be a family member of a political prisoner, but she took pride in it; Whenever I see more families of political prisoners campaigning for their families, she always hopes I can help them more. To fulfill my mother’s wishes, I will contribute most of my savings to set up the ‘Wang Lingyun Humanitarian Relief Fund’ with $100,000, to help other families of political prisoners who have endured hardships like my mother’s. This fund will not accept any external donations; it is purely for me, as her son, to help fulfill her mother’s wish.
Finally, I want to say to my mother: Mom, may you have a smooth journey, and wait for me in heaven. Mother and son will surely reunite one day. At that time, let me start over from scratch, do nothing, just be your son.
Wang Dan tearfully reported
