阎明复的女儿阎兰在2020年出版了一本英文书叫《阎家：处于中国历史上一个世纪的核心的家族》（The House of Yan: A Family at the Heart of a Century in Chinese History）
这本书有一章都是在讲六四的。这是英文原文：
I was still in Geneva in 1985 when I heard that my father had been appointed by the party’s Central Committee to the position of leader of the United Front Work Department, then to the position of secretary to the Central Committee.
By coincidence, Mikhail Gorbachev became the new secretary-general of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union that year. Soon after starting his new post, Gorbachev stated that he wanted to improve relations with China.
Deng Xiaoping had several reservations regarding this wished-for rapprochement, all of them military. First, there was the presence of Soviet troops in Mongolia, as well as on the Sino-Soviet border. The Soviets were intervening in Afghanistan and supporting the Vietnamese forces in Cambodia, an unacceptable situation in the eyes of Beijing.
Deng Xiaoping was able to lay down a whole set of conditions because China was in a position of strength. The economic reforms implemented by Deng in 1978 were bearing fruit, whereas the Soviet economy, in decline since the late 1970s, was forcing the USSR to give up its arms race with the United States.
After the retreat of Soviet troops from Afghanistan, Deng gave the green light for Gorbachev to make an official visit to China between May 15 and 18, 1989. The symbolism was strong enough that Yan Mingfu—who was, in some way, the living memory of the history of Sino-Soviet relations —took part in the ceremonies in his role as secretary of the Party’s Central Committee.
As it happened, Hu Yaobang had died from a heart attack the previous month in Beijing.
As the Party’s secretary-general, Hu Yaobang had been a reformist, but he had been dismissed in 1987 following student protests whose democratic aspirations he seemed to share. Hu Yaobang was particularly admired because, in the wake of Mao’s death, he accomplished the reintegration of hundreds of intellectuals and leaders fired during the Cultural Revolution, as well as the posthumous rehabilitation of the regime’s victims, including my grandfather. Then, in 1979, he had done the same for rightists.
The day after his death, spontaneous protests all over the country forced the government to organize a state funeral on April 22, 1989. In Beijing, however, the fervor did not die down. In Tiananmen Square, it became impossible to carry out the ceremonies planned for the Soviet leader’s official visit. Tiananmen Square was filled with students who had begun a hunger strike, so it was decided to prepare a reception at the airport instead. Gorbachev was welcomed on May 16 by Zhao Ziyang, the party’s secretary-general, and by Deng, in the Great Hall of the People. I followed the event on Swiss television.
What the television footage did not show was that the central government had asked my father to negotiate with the students in Tiananmen Square, to convince them to move away after four days of their hunger strike.
One wonders why the government did not send the education minister to Tiananmen Square that afternoon. Particularly since my father had been ill for some time, regularly hospitalized with high fevers. In fact, he left for Tiananmen Square in an ambulance from the hospital where he had been admitted with a temperature of 102.
Barely had my father arrived in the middle of the angry crowd when the leader of the student movement asked everybody to calm down. What happened next was told to me by a friend of mine, Caroline, who was a student at Peking University at the time. At that moment, she was sitting close to my father’s feet.
Before passing the megaphone to my father, the movement’s leader told the protesters that Comrade Yan Mingfu had come as a friend, that he was a genuine communist. “I can promise you, he is one of us.” My father took the megaphone and began speaking: “First of all, your determination and the spirit of your demands has touched the entire country. Be assured that your demands for reform, freedom, and an end to corruption have been heard, and I have no doubt that the Central Committee, as well as the People’s Assembly, will take them into account. But those demands are not worth paying for with your lives. As a humanist, let me tell you that you cannot sacrifice yourselves. As the representative of the Central Committee, I can promise you that—once you have suspended your hunger strike and started classes again—there will be no reprisals against you.” And to persuade the weakest among them to go to the hospital, and the others to go back to their classrooms as soon as possible, he offered himself as a hostage, as proof of the government’s good faith, assuring the students that their demands would be considered and that negotiations would begin. Despite this, the students decided not to vacate the square. My father left.
Later, he would say that it was lucky that Deng was hard of hearing because he would not have been happy to hear the students yelling while he was welcoming Gorbachev in the Great Hall of the People.
While the square was still occupied by protesters and hunger strikers, Gorbachev’s official visit continued, notably at the famous Great Wall of China. When a journalist asked him for his impression of this edifice, Gorbachev replied that the wall was magnificent, before adding, “But there are too many walls between people.” The journalist took the bait, “Does that mean you would like to bring down the Berlin Wall?” The response was serious: “Why not?” As for the protesters who were still occupying Tiananmen Square, Gorbachev chose his words carefully: “The USSR, too, has certain ‘hotheads’ who wish to change socialism overnight.”
It was from that moment that my father disappeared from television screens, and that the reporting focused less on Gorbachev’s visit than on what was happening in Tiananmen Square.
In Geneva, I spent all my free time glued to the television—until June 4, 1989, when I saw the pictures of the tank advancing toward a young man. That image seared itself into my memory.
I followed the events that came next through the young Chinese people who left the country. One year later, in Paris, I saw my friend Hirondelle, who told me that, on that fateful day, she had been walking toward Chang’an Avenue, after leaving the State Council residence where she lived. The avenue was filled with tanks and military trucks. The loudspeakers broadcast the words, “Attention. All rebels will be shot. Stay in your homes.” Despite the warlike tone, Hirondelle could not believe this was true. Was it possible that Chinese soldiers would shoot at the crowd? Suddenly, a young man started running toward her. From a nearby tank, a soldier fired. The boy was hit. He collapsed, bleeding. The loudspeaker announced, “Do not remain outside. If you do, you will suffer the consequences.” Hirondelle was not sure she had really understood. This is a nightmare, she told herself, and her whole body started trembling. She did not move as the tanks went past. Then, gathering her strength, she ran home and made the decision to leave Beijing.
The day after these events, my father was dismissed. He was not the only one: Zhao Ziyang, too, was dismissed, along with two other Central Committee secretaries.
That November, six months after Gorbachev’s visit to Beijing, the Berlin Wall came down.
The next month, in Malta, Mikhail Gorbachev and George H. W. Bush officially proclaimed the end of the Cold War.
By December 1991, the USSR had ceased to exist.
As for my father, his exile would not last long. In 1991, he was appointed vice-minister of civil affairs.
这英语很简单，不会英语的用翻译软件看一下就行了。
我很惊讶她会写六四，并且还写了军队杀人的事情。
阎明复的子女愿意站在学生的立场上写六四，我很敬佩。
