By Zhou Duo

May 5, 2024

Editor’s note: This is the fifth in a series of articles written by someone deeply involved in the events leading up to June 4, 1989. The events in this installment begin after the replacement of Zhao Ziyang with Li Peng as China’s prime minister, and the latter’s declaration of martial law. There is extensive discussion about what to do about the looming entry of many soldiers into the city, and it is clear there are fractures in the pro-democracy movement; the author in particular is critical of the students themselves. Part 1 is here, part 2 here, part 3 is here and part 4 is here.

May 19, 1989 was a memorable day. That night, Li Peng decided to declare martial law, completely fracturing relations between students and intellectuals. This was an important turning point. The bloody massacre on June 4th was in the end fated by three events: Hu Yaobang being pushed out in 1987 as the “anti-bourgeois liberalization” campaign gathered steam; the April 26th People’s Daily editorial; and this May 20th martial-law order. In this way, Deng Xiaoping personally ruined the great cause of reform he himself had previously created step by step. It is as simple as that.
That day, I reluctantly got out of bed and rode my bike to the Jimen Hotel in a daze. When I arrived at the reception desk in the foyer, I was inquiring about the meeting location when Wang Dan walked up and stood next to me. He had also just arrived. We went upstairs and entered the conference room on the second floor. It was almost half past ten and the meeting had just begun. Present at the meeting were Chen Ziming, Chen Xiaoping, Liu Liqun, Ye Yan, Yang Baikui, Liu Weihua, Wang Dan, Wang Zhiyuan, Chen Mingyuan, and several others whom I did not recognize. It is said that there were also representatives from the Citizens’ Federation. Chen Ziming presided over the meeting. He said that it was supposed to be hosted by Jun Tao, but his hand had been injured by a car door and he had gone to the hospital that morning, so Chen was hosting instead. He first talked about the meeting’s purpose, which was nothing more than what he had said in the car the night before: to convene representatives from all walks of life who had been the first to stand up to support the students, and hold “joint meetings” from time to time to communicate information, coordinate action, and support each other. It was not a formal organization, just a series of irregular meetings. Secretarial and logistical work was handled by their institute. Participants from all parties began by exchanging information and introducing the situation.

After lunch, a few people left and a few more came in. Among the visitors were Jun Tao and Min Qi. I was really sleepy, so I found a room and slept until nearly three o’clock. Not long after I returned to the conference room and sat down, Chen Ziming came in from the outside with a very nervous and serious expression, telling everyone to be quiet because something important was going on. I thought he was about to announce that World War III had broken out. He said he had just received a phone call telling him “absolutely reliable” news: Zhao Ziyang had been dismissed and Li Peng was in charge of the Politburo. Tough measures would be taken tonight against the students in Tiananmen Square, possibly by sending troops into the city. Military control was to be implemented. When everyone present heard this, they all jumped up and yelled “bastards,” “I’m tired of living,” “I’m going to fight hard,” and so on. All in all, those in attendance were furious. Chen Ziming immediately said to me, Yang Baikui, and Liu Weihua, why don’t you guys work hard to write something immediately to announce the news? I don’t know who it was — maybe Liu Weihua — who said, “Zhou Duo has a quick pen, let him write it!” I asked for the transcript of the phone call itself in Chen Ziming’s hand, and it took about twenty minutes to write the transcript that people now have, the well-known, “Letter to the People.” I read it over, made modifications and additions based on everyone’s feedback, and gave it to Chen Ziming. Everyone decided to let Chen Mingyuan go to the square first to get in touch with the students, and everyone else who could would go there too in the evening. I went out and called my company and asked the president’s office to tell Wan Runnan the news.

After dinner, I asked Ziming what he did with the “Letter to the People.” He said he had put it aside for a while, and later would verify what was in it. I didn’t ask any more questions, got on my bike and went home. About ten minutes before CCTV broadcast Li Peng’s speech, Wan Runnan called me. After saying a few words, he heard “important news” and put down the phone. After listening to the radio, I jumped up from the sofa, cursed, rushed downstairs, got on my bicycle and sped to the square. I must have gone crazy. Although it was already past midnight, almost all the intersections were crowded with groups of people. The road was full of half-crazy students and others, like me, riding bicycles and rushing towards the square. There was no need for command and incitement at all. Li Peng’s speech was our mobilization order.

The square was already crowded with people. I asked around about the people in the “joint meeting” and the student leaders. Strangely, none were found. A few days later, Wang Juntao told me that they were having a meeting at the southeast corner of the monument. I squeezed into the crowd for a while and met Mou Jun from the Beijing office of the World Economic Herald. He said that the High-Level Autonomous Federation was holding a press conference. We squeezed into the crowd, stood next to a large vehicle, and listened to Li Lu making a statement using a microphone. Then, Chen XX came out and made an impassioned speech, saying that he had decided to participate in the hunger strike, then talked about “defending the great Constitution to the death” and so on. I thought to myself, “Put away your ‘greatness’ and save it for home!” I thought he must know where Wang Juntao was, so I handed my business card to the student security person by the car door and said I wanted to see Chen XX. They told me to wait, and passed along my card. Unexpectedly, after waiting for more than half an hour, I had not moved. By chance, Ma Shaofang, a member of the High-Level Autonomous Federation, came. He had also been present at the mediation meeting. He was a likeable young man, honest and upright. He put me in the car and I asked them to call Chen XX. After a while, the student who was delivering the message squeezed over and said, “Master Chen is resting. He has already started a hunger strike and needs to conserve his energy.” I was stunned for a time in the vehicle, unable to say a word. I thought I had heard wrong. Either that or they had gone mad. I squeezed through, walked to the back of the carriage, and respectfully called out “Teacher Chen!” I went up and patted his arm. Without opening his eyes, he stretched out his hand and held mine without saying a word. I asked him what happened? Where does it hurt? He then asked if I had seen Wang Juntao and Chen Ziming. Even without saying anything else, his face looked as solemn and sad as that of a martyr. I was scratching my head when a female student next to me explained, “Teacher Chen is on a hunger strike and needs to conserve his strength.” When I heard this, I immediately pulled my hand back as if I had been electrocuted, and I felt sick to my heart. He must have fallen into a state of self-pity and self-praise, and was completely intoxicated with it, unable to extricate himself.

I only stayed in that messy, stinky big vehicle for about half an hour. The group of older students in it insisted on kicking me out. Ma Shaofang couldn’t explain it, no matter how hard he tried. Their sense of self-importance, their sense of being the protagonists at the center of the stage, really makes my heart ache when I think about it now. At that time, they thought almost everyone else was just a nuisance.

It was extremely cold that night. I wandered around the square for a long while but found nothing. And nothing in particular occurred there. It was almost four o’clock in the morning, and I was shivering with cold all over, so I had to get on my bicycle and pedal home as if lifeless. After riding at full speed for nearly twenty minutes, my body warmed up. When I arrived at the Baishiqiao intersection, the first bus No. 332 drove towards me. A group of students stepped forward to stop it and called on the people inside to go on strike and engage in boycotts. A few more college students who rode into the city were handing out flyers. I took one — it turned out to be the “Letter to the People.” Several changes had been made, and on it was printed, “Reprinted by the Peking University Student Association.” Later, I saw several different versions that seemed to be widely circulated.

For as long as half a month after the May 20 martial-law order was issued, it was still nothing more than a piece of waste paper — until on June 4th the tanks drove onto the streets and machine guns fired on the crowd — losing the hearts of the people and arousing public outrage, obviously. What was this “counterrevolutionary riot?” It was obviously the army who killed people and provoked the civil uprising! As long as the major and minor events are arranged in chronological order, it will be clear at a glance what was the cause and what was the effect, More than 200,000 troops were mobilized to surround the capital of this country to deal with unarmed protesters. Initially, no violence occurred; there were only hundreds of thousands of people demonstrating peacefully. This move itself made the government lose face, and its prestige was ruined.

Martial law was completely ineffective, and this gave people false hope. Unenforceable martial law must be absurd, and was contrary to public opinion. Quite a few people (including me — although I had little hope) imagined that this ironclad fact would awaken the majority of cadres, party members and the masses to rise up in protest, and demand a correction of this completely erroneous decision. Obviously, people over time have underestimated the absurdity of Chinese politics to varying degrees, especially the servility and blind obedience of cadres and party members. It is hard for people to believe that after experiencing the tragedy of the “Ten Years of Catastrophe” [referring to the Cultural Revolution], and after ten years of reflection and the spread of modern democratic consciousness, the majority of Chinese cadres, party members and the masses could still be fooled and controlled by the government”s supposed overwhelming power.

It can be put this way: the issuance of martial law was a turning. It turned the original situation of many diverse opinions into a confrontation between two camps. There was no buffer zone between the opposing parties, and the possibility of communication, mediation, negotiation and dialogue was now close to zero, which would inevitably lead to the outcome of violent conflict.

The declaration of martial law divided society in one other way: it transformed the original broader differences of opinion on democracy, freedom, and reform of the political system into another binary divide, and caused the movement to sharply transform into a fierce battle between two completely opposite positions, limited to conflict between the implementation of martial law and opposition to it. A situation of class struggle had indeed taken shape! The fundamental characteristic of class struggle is precisely this confrontational pattern — the difference is that this was class struggle without any actual relation to class. It was a completely man-made and unnecessarily stark confrontation. It was caused by improper management of the situation, which turned differences of opinion turned into bloodshed. There is nothing easier in the world than to artificially create class struggle — it is what all imbecilic governments do best.

Comparatively speaking, I was a pessimist. Wang Juntao and others were obviously much more optimistic. They quickly concluded that the military’s attitude toward the declaration of martial law was negative, and perhaps even internally divided. The basis for this conclusion was that the army was fully capable of entering the city, but their arrival was delayed; in many areas, the army took a few tentative steps forward and retreated when encountering only slight obstacles. Jun Tao and others still had high hopes that the situation would be reversed and that moderates among senior leaders would regain the upper hand. I basically didn’t believe this. My attitude was just “Knowing that you can’t do something but doing it anyway” — this was the reason why I made the Hunan people’s two words “Baman” (“reckless”) my motto.

On the afternoon of May 20th, I went to the Jimen Hotel to find out what was going on. Chen Ziming, Min Qi and others were preparing to move the meetings elsewhere. They said this place was targeted by the Public Security Bureau. During my interrogation by the authorities later, I was asked, Why did they make this judgment? Do you have a guilty conscience? I could only answer, since the Democracy Wall and the Peking University election turmoil, Wang Juntao has been closely watched by relevant departments. Of course he has no sense of security.

First we moved to the Northern Latitude Hotel, and two days later we moved to the Oriental Hotel — both very close to Tiananmen Square, making it easier to keep track of what was going on. After dinner that day, Chen Ziming talked about his analysis of things. He believed that declaring martial law was too clumsy, and not like what Deng had done. This possibility cannot be ruled out that some people used Deng’s estrangement and adopted the method of forcing his hand, causing him to make this move. For such a major operation, Deng was now silent, which was puzzling. Was he sick? Under house arrest? Even no longer alive? No one could know. Among the troops in various military regions, the Beijing troops were obviously the most passive. If an emergency session of the National Congress and a special party congress could be held, the situation seemed to be solvable. etc. Now we can see more clearly — eighty to ninety percent of these analyses and judgments were wrong. Obviously, not only Chen Ziming and others, but also other people involved at that time probably did not really understand the truth of the decision-making at the top. Such political choices based entirely on superficial analysis and speculation is too hesitant. I’ve never been in favor of intellectuals getting involved in China’s bastard politics. What intellectuals can and should do is express their opinions—including through extreme means such as demonstrations and hunger strikes.

In the evening, Jun Tao took me to the square to talk to some student leaders. As a result, we were stopped outside the demonstrator security line and stood there for a full hour and a half. No one came out or let us in, so we had to go back to the hotel. From this incident, we can see that the official claim that Wang Juntao and others “planned, instigated, and organized unrest” was pure fiction. We first of all wanted to stop the “unrest,” and secondly we wanted to help Zhao Ziyang. But that was all. Those self-righteous student leaders, so adept at “planning,” “inciting” and “organizing”!

On the third day, I was entrusted by Chen Ziming to draft the “Second Notice to the People.” Yang Baikui had written a half-finished draft already, but I didn’t use it. This document was not in the end even printed — the students in the square, obsessed with their own miscellany, told me that “there are too many things we have to print.”

The following incident is not in the original manuscript, and I have never disclosed it. It was added after the publication of this book — because I didn’t know whether it would be found by the police. If I wrote it, kept it and they discovered it, my “iron friend” in the army Wang Dong might end up miserable.

In order to find out what methods the army would use when it finally implemented martial law and cleared the square, especially whether it would open fire, Jun Tao specifically asked me to meet with Wang Dong. In the evening I brought them both together. Someone made an appointment to come to my house for a secret talk. Wang Dong said categorically that it was impossible to shoot — what would the Communist Party say if it shot at ordinary people, as it had been propagating for decades that “the army and the people are like one family.” and “the people’s army loves the people”? Wouldn’t this amount to the Communist Party committing suicide? Wang Dong also said that if the authorities wanted to do things the way he would, they would pull out a few death row inmates from the prison and shoot them in the areas of most intense conflict. If if it was then announced that the army had killed some “counterrevolutionary thugs,” wouldn’t that be sufficient to disperse the common people? I quietly asked Wang Dong, could we mobilize a few respected old military leaders to speak out and prevent the army from entering the city? Wang Dong hesitated for a while and agreed to give it a try. A few days later, my deputy Cui Yan told me that Wang Dong called Sitong Company and asked Cui Yan to tell me that the matter I asked him to do had been completed. How it worked specifically, I never asked Wang Dong again.

Close to midnight, Jun Tao asked me to accompany him and Wang Dan to Peking University to attend a standing committee meeting of the Beijing Students’ Autonomous Federation. On the way, I frankly criticized Wang Dan for the conceitedness and closed-doorism of college students. I said, “I don’t know how many of you have seriously read a few truly weighty books over the years. Look at the big-character posters on your campus! Look at your flyers! How can there not be any decent ones? Not even as good as the writings of high-school students during the Cultural Revolution (I think of Yu Luoke’s ‘On Origin’ and the publications we ran, ‘Middle School Red Guards’), not to mention their organizational skills and discipline.” Wang Dan argued, “You can’t make comparisons like that. Who can command today’s college students? No matter how talented they are, they can’t do these things. I have never regarded myself as an important person. We have been just accidentally swept up by the tide. So. I have always hoped that you intellectuals would intervene directly and take over the leadership, not me.”

Jun Tao’s favorite idea was very clear. He wanted to select a few influential and capable figures from among the student leaders, and get together with representatives from the intellectual circles and other sectors of society, and try his best to shift the focus and center of the movement from the students. The street actions had to turn to coordinated actions from all walks of life to calm the situation through consultation and dialogue with the government, and then promote the democratic reform of the political system in a legal, non-violent, orderly and step-by-step manner. Student street action was only useful in keeping pressure on hard-liners at the top; it should never become the central and dominant aspect of the movement. This was the reason why he tried so hard to pull Wang Dan and Wuer Kaixi out.

Wang Dan did not participate at all in this meeting of the federation”s Standing Committee. He had been chatting with a few classmates outside, and in the middle he went in and made some rather sarcastic remarks. These members of the Standing Committee were not enthusiastic about us. The meeting was chaired by Wang Chaohua and discussed the issue of reelection of the committee. Jun Tao listened impatiently and interrupted them to make three points: first, we should try our best to improve order in the square; second, turn street actions to the construction of democracy on campus; third, listen more to the opinions of theoretical and intellectual circles.

After exiting Peking University, I went home while Jun Tao and Wang Dan went into the city.

On May 24th, I happened to be at the Oriental Hotel. Jun Tao, Zi Ming, Min Qi and others told everyone that in the afternoon the Federation of Intellectual Circles would organize a parade. Two groups of people would march from Jianguomen and Fuxingmen respectively, and head to Tiananmen Square. The number of spectators during this parade was greatly reduced — it is estimated to be less than a quarter of the peak number for city parades. Obviously, people were used to chanting slogans at demonstrations and were tired of it. This was the second march in my life that I volunteered for. Those official parades that I participated in when I was still a primary- or middle-school student, we were all forced to go, and no one dared not to go — whether the theme was “enthusiastic support of the three red flags” or “defending to the death Chairman Mao’s revolutionary line and fundamentally implementing the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution.”

In the evening, entrusted by Jun Tao, I went to the China Youth Political College (formerly the “Central Youth League School”) to ask Wang Runsheng, Yuan Zhiming, and Xie Xuanjun to attend a small meeting of the “Beijing Joint Conference on Patriotism and Defending the Constitution,” which was to be held in the square. I had taught political economics and Western economics for three years at the China Youth University for Political Science (known as the “Third Theological Seminary” – the first seminary was the Party School of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of China, and the second was Renmin University). Wang, Yuan, and Xie were all transferred to Peking University after I went to the Institute of Sociology there. I coaxed these people into the car, said goodbye and went home. They must have felt a little bit deceived, not expecting that I would induce them to attend such a risky meeting, but they would not attend. But I stayed in the Northern Latitude and Oriental hotels for a few days, and I became quite bored. I was tired of the whole situation. I didn’t believe that anything else could be done, let alone that there would be any kind of turnaround. A mad cow that has lost its rationality will fall down into the mountain stream sooner or later. So I decided I might as well go home and sleep.

Unexpectedly, I still couldn’t sleep even at this time. Around 11 o’clock, several calls came from my company and the Beijing Hotel. They were as urgent as the outbreak of fire, saying that Wan Runnan had been looking for me all day and asked me to rush to the Beijing Hotel immediately. Only then did I learn that that afternoon, he had dispatched a group of people to bring 70 to 80 student representatives from more than 60 universities across the country to the International Hotel for a meeting; because they were “targeted,” they moved to the Beijing Hotel. When I heard this, I was shocked!

My company quickly sent a car, and along the way there were twists and turns, and I often had to take out the “Plaza Pass” Wang Dan had issued for me before I was allowed to continue on. Finally, I made it to the Beijing Hotel without incident. I took the elevator to the 18th floor and was stopped by two big men wearing white shirts and gray pants, with walkie-talkies in their hands. Needless to say, you could tell at a glance that they were plainclothes men. They were rude and said it was too late to receive guests. “I’m not here to meet visitors,” I said coldly. “My superior has invited me here on business. It’s a meeting.” I walked in. The two men were furious and threatened to come in and arrest me. While they were arguing, two or three young men brought by Wan Runnan came up to persuade them to stop, and after some nice explanations, they agreed to let me in. The two men warned that I could stay no more than half an hour. “At that time we’ll see if we’ve finished talking or not,” I said while glaring at them and turning around to walk inside. Thinking about it afterwards, I had no reason for being so cruel. They were just performing their official duties and following orders from above. Besides, their attitude wasn’t impolite.

It was a suite, and the outside room was the reception room. Wang Dan was sitting on the sofa eating a box of colorful fried rice. There were several students next to me, and I didn’t recognize any of them. Wan Runnan was talking about something. There are also the company vice president Duan Yongji and several other leaders. Wan Runnan saw me and came up to greet me. I asked right away: “Didn’t the company already have a rule not to get involved in the name of the company? Why…” Wan Runnan didn’t allow me to say any more, saying “Don’t discuss things that have already been decided. Now I have said it, you must accept it!” This was the rule at Sitong: after collective discussion, one person has the final say; regardless of personal opinions, any matter that has been settled must be followed. As early as the end of April, at a meeting of the company’s senior cadres, when discussing the policy for dealing with the student unrest, I proposed that from the perspective of the company’s long-term interests, we should not get involved and express any opinions in the name of the company. But for individual employees, what stance should we take? And actions are the rights of individual citizens, and it is not correct for companies to interfere. I also suggested that Ye Yanhong covertly issue an order prohibiting employees from participating in the student unrest during work hours. I didn’t know that the company’s established policy had been abandoned at the senior management meeting on May 23, and everyone unanimously agreed that Wan Runnan would intervene directly. Vice President Duan quickly pulled me into the inner room, briefly explained the situation, and complained that I never contacted the company. Then they showed me the “proposal letter” that they had helped the students draft that afternoon. I was shocked when I saw it, and said in a voice: “It’s broken, this is terrible!” Mr Duan asked, “What?” I continued, “When people look at this thing, they will immediately say that this is how you are. What’s the point of trying to persuade the students? And what is particularly terrible is this part, that Deng and Yang should retire. Is the company actually seeking its death? The opinions of these student representatives are not ours.” I shook my head and said, “Who would believe you? Are you clear on this?” I said again, “The company has already stipulated that we do not get involved in its name. How did this happen?” But Vice President Duan said it was something everyone had unanimously agreed on.

I sighed, and said, “It’s all my fault. I wish I had been here. Since May 13th, all I have been doing is mediating, persuading, and trying to resolve conflicts, but it has not achieved anything. This matter will never be resolved. The risks are so high, as are the costs, and and the expected benefits are very small. How can this be done?” Vice President Duan said that the student representatives had agreed to withdraw from the square. I was so angry that I shouted: “And you just take their word for it? Even if they all agree to withdraw, ask them if they can guarantee that they can convinced all of the students. They don’t have such authority! If you don’t believe me, ask Wang Dan.”

I stood up, walked out of the inner room and asked Wang Dan, “Be honest, are you sure you can convince the students to withdraw?” Wang Dan smiled bitterly: “Teacher Zhou, you know! Isn’t it Wu’er Kaixi who is the best example?” He was referring to Wuer Kaixi’s mobilization for retreat from the square a few days ago, which was immediately met with angry reaction by students. From then on, Wuer Kaixi broke away and began to stand with Wang Juntao.
Wang didn’t want me to say anything more, so he took the students downstairs and went to the coffee shop on the first floor to continue the secret conversation, which lasted about two hours. Cui Mingshan, Cao Wuqi, and I stood outside and watched the street scene. We didn’t hear a word of what Wan and the students were saying. I saw groups of motorcycles speeding past on Chang’an Street, carrying big flags containing the two characters for “die,” written in the dialect of Beijing’s lower class. Cui Mingshan said, “Well, we’re about to have a big confrontation.” Cui Mingshan said that when he was driving out of the city, he was often stopped by those citizens who forced people to pull things, saying, “You have to pull, even if your one of those who doesn’t have to.” At that time, the students were disillusioned, and the maintenance of street order was often taken over by more disorganized organizations such as the “Citizens’ Self-Government Association.” Cui Mingshan believed that their quality was low, which aroused the resentment of many people from all walks of life. Although I disagree with Cui Mingshan’s assessment of the low quality of citizens, we all agreed that if this continued, there would be big trouble. Unfortunately this turned out to be exactly right!

It was almost four in the morning when our group drove back to the company. Wan Runnan and I talked alone for a while. I continued to complain about the wrong decision he made, repeated what I said to Duan Yongji, and expressed my pessimistic predictions. Wan was silent for a while and then said, “It seems I have to find a place to hide.” I comforted him and said, maybe it’s not that serious. You meant well in trying to break up conflict, so you should be able to explain yourself clearly. I slept on the sofa in the office for two hours, then went home and slept again.

Cui Yan later told me that Wan Runnan asked him to continue to help persuade students to evacuate the square the next day. He found Feng Congde in Tiananmen Square and said, “Feng Congde is extremely arrogant and ignores me. I am deeply suspicious of another command center popping up overnight!” Every time Cui Yan talked about this, he yelled “bastard!” Yes, they had really gotten a taste of power.

The next day, I was dragged by Cao Siyuan to CCTV to film a “Social Outlook” column with the theme of “The Constitution and the Principle of Non-Violence.” Dozing off while he was patting me. I told the host of the TV station at that time that the interview was is shot in vain, as it would not be broadcast. Yet they still thought there was hope!

Now when I think back to the Wan Runnan meeting at the International Hotel, I still feel very heavy. Wan Runnan repeatedly told me to contact him every day, but I didn’t do so that day. I had really failed in my role as a staff officer. Although he was lucky enough to be spared, without his presence at Sitong, people’s hearts there were shattered. Wan was the soul of Sitong and its undisputed leader. His position could not be replaced by anyone else. He fled, and the decline and disintegration of Sitong seemed inevitable to me.

The outstanding figures and social elites who had emerged in this decade just escaped or were caught, kept silent, and become passive. “The world is turbid and unclear, a cicada’s wing is heavy and a thousand junctures are light. The yellow bell is destroyed and the earthenware cauldron thunders. The sycophants are arrogant, but the wise men are nameless.” How pitiful, our Chinese nation is suffering so much!

One of a series

Chinese students gather in Tianamen Square, in Beijing on May 13, 1989. About 1000 students prepare for a hunger strike for more democracy and 5000 students hold a demonstration in hopes of forcing the autorities into a dialogue. (Photo by Vitaly ARMAND / AFP)

This piece was translated from Yibao Chinese. If republished, please be sure to add the source and link before the text when reposting.

The author’s point of view does not necessarily represent that of this journal.