Song Binbin: The Legacy of a Revolution's Silence

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In 1966, Mao Zedong launched the Cultural Revolution. On August 18 of that year, Mao appeared on the Tiananmen Tower to greet a million Red Guards. A young girl placed a red armband emblazoned with the words “Red Guard” on Mao’s right arm.

Song Binbin placed a red armband on Mao’s right arm

This girl was Song Binbin—a symbol of that era’s Red Guards. On September 16, 2024, Song Binbin passed away in New York, where she held American citizenship.

As a leader of the Red Guards at the Beijing Normal University-affiliated Girls' High School, Song Binbin embodied a particular form of “silence.” Her political background—her father, Song Renqiu, was the head of the Organization Department of the Central Committee—gave her a unique status and authority within the Red Guards. On the early morning of August 18, 1966, before the rally officially began, Mao unexpectedly descended to the plaza. This act was unprecedented, as Party and state leaders had always observed parades and gatherings from the Tiananmen Tower. But that day, Mao—hailed as the “only dawn of the East”—walked among the people. According to Song’s recollection, her presence on the Tiananmen Tower that day was largely accidental; Mao had spontaneously decided to invite Red Guards up, saying, “Let the kids come up.” Organizers hastily selected a few students to represent their schools, and Song was chosen because she was the child of a high-ranking cadre.

Mao asked her name. She replied, “Song Binbin.” He then asked, “Is that the ‘bin’ of refined and courteous?” She said yes. Mao responded, “You should be martial instead!” This single remark ignited what became known as the “Red August,” or “Turbulent August.” Soon, Beijing’s educational and judicial systems came under assault. The violence of “Red August” was horrifying; in this period alone, dozens of teachers were killed. This incident marked the shift of the Cultural Revolution from verbal struggle to violent struggle. One of the victims was Principal Bian Zhongyun, the principal of Song Binbin’s school.

On August 5, Bian Zhongyun was forced into labor. Already extremely weak and with a heart condition, she was dragged into the school’s hallway, where students beat her to death with spiked clubs. At that time, Song Binbin was one of the Red Guard leaders at her school. Although there has been no conclusive evidence proving her direct involvement in the violence, discussions around her potential historical responsibility have never ceased in the decades that followed.

In 2002, American textbooks included an account of “Song Binbin leading Red Guards in assaulting the principal.” In response to these claims, she accepted an interview with American filmmaker Karma Hinton. Song said, “I never participated in things like destroying the Four Olds or ransacking homes, but rumors about me were relentless. People said that Mao gave me the nickname ‘yaowu’ and that I beat people. I felt deeply wronged, as I always opposed beating and violent struggle.”

However, during the violent incidents on campus, she took no real action to prevent them. As Liu Yilun recalled, Song’s silence and avoidance were motivated by a desire to preserve her authority as a Red Guard leader. She chose not to publicly oppose the violence because doing so might have jeopardized her leadership position and political influence.

A dazibao (big-character poster) targeting Bian Zhongyun — A *dazibao* (big-character poster) targeting Bian Zhongyun

This “power-driven silence” was not just tacit approval of political violence but also a means of protecting her privileges through silence. Years later, teacher Mei Shumin questioned Song, asking, “Where were you when the violence occurred?” Song’s silence was not merely an attempt to avoid violent scenes; it was a selective silence. She did not fully oppose the violence but neither did she support it. Instead, she chose disengagement to maintain her interests. This further demonstrates that the silence of Red Guard leaders was not the self-preservation of ordinary individuals driven by fear but rather a strategy to consolidate power and protect status.

Bian Zhongyun’s body, taken by her husband

Decades later, controversy around Song Binbin remains. Her “silence” in history was not merely an individual choice but a reflection of the countless Red Guards who grappled between power and morality. Her story prompts reflection: how much responsibility should an individual bear within the torrents of history? Song’s “power-driven silence” reminds us that silence is not always self-preservation; more often, it is a form of acquiescence, a compromise, even a consolidation of power. In this bloody chapter of history, her image may have blurred, but the questions left for future generations remain clear: in the face of violence and extremism, what does silence truly signify?