THE GHOSTS OF TIANANMEN

By John Cloud

Any euphoria over Wei Jingsheng's freedom was muted by the grim reality he left behind. For fellow dissidents remaining in China, life is worse than ever. Virtually all are either imprisoned and tortured or hounded daily by authorities who keep them largely separated from society. What's more, foreign governments that claim to pressure China on the dissidents' behalf now seem more concerned with trading rights than human rights.

China admitted that in 1994, more than 2,600 people were doing time for "counterrevolutionary crimes," according to the U.S. State Department--many for nonviolent protests. A teacher who tossed eggs at a portrait of Mao, for instance, is serving a life term. Prison conditions are abysmal: a former inmate has said that new arrivals at a facility in Hunan, in southeast China, are forced to suck feces from a straw.

Wei's departure moves others to the top of release wish lists kept by human-rights groups and the U.S. government. The most attention is now focused on Wang Dan, 28, a leader of the 1989 uprising that was brutally suppressed in Tiananmen Square; he is serving an 11-year term. Like Wei, Wang is reportedly ill, enduring stomach pains stemming from a nerve disorder. Family members say they've been told he may have a brain tumor, but that his jailers won't allow a CAT scan. Chinese officials say he's faking the illnesses.

Some prisoners, desperate for a medical parole like the one granted Wei, are said to be intentionally infecting themselves with hepatitis with the help of visitors--a potentially deadly gamble. But others have refused to seek such paroles, on the theory that if they leave China, they will never be allowed to return. They feel that exile means irrelevance. "Frankly," says Boston University's Merle Goldman, "none of these dissident groups [overseas] have had much impact back in China."

Life for those who aren't incarcerated isn't as bleak, but these dissidents are scarcely more effective in promoting change than are their jailed counterparts. For example, Chen Ziming and Zhai Weimin, two leaders of the 1989 protests, are under virtual house arrest, and Chen is reportedly in poor health.

If communism's brutality is incapacitating the dissidents, capitalism's seductiveness is discouraging others from raising their fists. Many Chinese intellectuals who would have been in the forefront of protest five years ago are busily making money in business or even government jobs. Liberal economist Cao Siyuan of Beijing runs a consultancy linking bankrupt enterprises with interested investors.

In essence, China is waging a war of attrition against dissidence--and winning. While the Chinese government wouldn't have let Wei go without pressure from the U.S. and President Jiang Zemin's successful summit with Bill Clinton, China ultimately risked little in Wei's departure beyond a brief loss of face. Because the government has a tight grip on information, Wei and other exiles can do little to get their message heard at home. Even now, most Chinese don't know who Wei is.

For its part, the Clinton Administration remains convinced that the best way to improve human rights and promote democracy in the long run is to pursue its strategy of "constructive engagement" with the People's Republic. That means lobbying for the release of dissidents while strengthening business ties. Human-rights watchers hope that if Wang Dan is not freed soon, China will relent after Clinton's planned trip to Beijing next spring. That would be another step forward, but one dissident per summit is a slow pace toward political justice.

--By John Cloud. Reported by William Dowell/New York and Jaime A. FlorCruz/Beijing

With reporting by WILLIAM DOWELL/NEW YORK AND JAIME A. FLORCRUZ/BEIJING