Last night, when I finished my work and went home, I turned on the TV. What I saw sent a cold shiver down my spine. Tanks once again rolled through Tiananmen Square, soldiers in sharp red-army uniforms marching in perfect formation. It was a grand show of power for China’s 80th anniversary of military victory over Japan, but for me, it opened a wound that has never truly healed.

Thirty-six years ago, those same colours and tanks filled Tiananmen Square. But then, they were not part of a celebration – they were used to crush thousands of young students who were calling for democracy and freedom. I was one of those students, a leader in the square. I still carry the scars, not only on my body but deep in my soul. Two of my closest friends died in my arms that night. Their faces have never left me. The world may see parades and fireworks, but when I see tanks in Tiananmen I remember the gunfire, the screams, the blood and the silence that followed.

For me, the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989 is not history, it’s memory.Credit: AP

In the aftermath, Australia extended a hand of humanity. Then-prime minister Bob Hawke showed moral courage........

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