Tiananmen is white, beautiful. So big that you don't know where to begin to look at it. So plain in its stateliness, almost frightening. Since 1949 it's the symbol of the power of the new Chinese emperors. Since 1989 also of something else that can't be said.

If you come from south the square appears like that. But before opening out, it must remind you in which country you are and which kind of history you're living: Mao's Mausoleum bars the way. Chairman Mao (so it's called by Chinese) is under glass in the middle of a hall that regular lines of people cross for some seconds staring at the corpse covered with a communist flag. But the scene you'll never forget happens some instants before: in turn three or four people - men, women, children - pull ahead of the line to lay flowers and curtsey to the statue of one of the bloodiest tyrants of the 20th century. It would be sufficient this forbidden picture to show how strong and corrupting lies and ideology still are in 21st century China.

The Monument to the People's Heroes - standing outside - is 36 metres high. Obviously the People's Heroes are regime's heroes whose revolutionary feats are carved as bas-reliefs on the obelisk's surface. Sixteen years ago for forty-seven days the People took it back, sat around, hung placards claiming democracy and built nearby something that looked a lot like the Statue of Liberty. Today the Monument is enclosed and surrounded by guards.

One night the tanks got into Tiananmen. They came from here. It was late spring, between 3-4 June. The first clashes between soldiers and civilians began at dusk opposite this bridge along Fuxingmenwai avenue. People's troops were arriving from western suburbs but the People had no intention of letting them pass. So they started firing. Against the People. Two hours and a few kilometers after, the first tank entered the square coming from Chang'an avenue (Fuxingmenwai's prosecution) under the vigilant look of the mandants gathered in Zhongnanhai and of the Great Helmsman, very proud. At 1 a.m. all the martial law troops were in Tiananmen in conformity with the orders. Most of the job was already done. At 4 a.m. the lights were turned off. At 5.40 a.m. everything ended.

Last year China was celebrating the 100th anniversary of the man who in fact decided the massacre. At the National Museum "a great man of the 20th century" was praised. At the National People's Congress the children were rehearsing the performance in his honour.
The regime shows its most craven face. Tiananmen repression of course never happened. What happened was the restoration of order upset by a "counter-revolutionary riot". Students and citizens that, not only in Beijing but also in every main town of the country, rallied against the dictatorship seem by now erased from the collective memory. Everything suggests that the masters of mind have achieved their aim. But - you know - sometimes the ghosts come back. And every celebration has its day: let time pass. Tiananmen is white, beautiful. Kites.