Following the death of Dr. Li Wenliang, a writer from China talks about the powerlessness of society to affect change.

By Shouwangzhe (守望者)

Translation by Mr. Almost

This piece first appeared in Matters.news in simplified Chinese and is translated and with permission of the author and publisher.

In mainland China, with its history of autocracy and dictatorship, no minor figure has ever lived and died quite like Dr. Li Wenliang (李文亮). Even before his death was fully confirmed, it was a cause for national concern and mourning.

At about 10:00PM on February 6, the news of Li Wenliang's death spread online. Like many people, I couldn’t and didn't want to believe it was true.

I hoped it was just a rumor. Even though my heart was close to despair, I still repeatedly refreshed the news on my phone, as long as I didn’t see an official announcement, I could still expect a miracle to happen.

But on February 7 at 3:48AM, the Wuhan Central Hospital finally released a formal, official announcement on its Weibo page: “Our eye doctor, Li Wenliang, was unfortunately infected in the fight against the new coronavirus outbreak. Despite all efforts, Dr. Li died on February 7, 2020, at 2:58AM. We deeply lament and mourn his loss.”

There were many people that night constantly swiping their screens for updates on WeChat and Weibo, and their feelings of grief and anger went unabated that night. It was a silent night, but it felt like I could hear the screaming and shouting of the people.

Li was 34 years old. Had it not been for the sudden outbreak of the new coronavirus, he might have remained an obscure, ordinary eye doctor.

On December 30, 2019, Li saw a patient's test report showing a high similarity to the SARS coronavirus. “Because my classmates were also clinical doctors, I sent a message about the virus in a (Wechat) group, as a reminder to my colleagues to be mindful of their own protection.”

Li later wrote on his Weibo account that he did not want to and did not consider himself a hero. He just did the basic human care that ordinary people deserve -- reminding his classmates to pay attention to their own protection.

But what he didn't expect was that on the same day that he issued his warning, the Wuhan City health committee issued an official notice that “no unit or individual shall release treatment information” of the unknown causes of the new pneumonia virus “without authorization.”

Li Wenliang accepted the consequences – he was interviewed by the hospital’s supervision department and was called in to the local police station on January 3 to sign a “letter of admonition.”

Li was joined by seven others who were publicly investigated by the Wuhan police for “spreading rumors” that were later reported on CCTV news.

After three weeks, it was discovered that the eight so-called rumormongers were all doctors. Their good-will reminders to their colleagues broke the iron curtain of secrecy.

After signing the letter, Li Wenliang returned to the hospital to resume his normal duties. Since then, some of the patients he treated were infected with the coronavirus. On January 10, he began to cough, and on January 11, he developed fever and was hospitalized on January 12.

At that time, health authorities in Wuhan and the rest of China were still saying “no human-to-human transmission” and “no medical infection” had occurred.

But with a “letter of admonition” hanging over his head, Li Wenliang did not speak out again.