Olho mágico: A Idade da Seclusão? / Peephole: The Age of Seclusion?

É bastante constrangedor reparar que o recente (segundo) rascunho da “Lei de Gestão de ONG’s Ultramarinas” da República Popular da China (中华人民共和国境外非政府组织 管理法) quase não suscitou discussão na nossa Região Administrativa Especial. Ao fim e ao cabo, trata-se de uma lei que vai não só aplicar-se a ONG’s (Organização Não Governamentais) “estrangeiras” mas também a um vasto número de organizações, instituições e associações sediadas em Hong Kong, Macau e Taiwan, como se sugere pelo uso da expressão 境外 (jingwai, literalmente fora das fronteiras de um país). O segundo esboço da lei foi apresentado no final de Abril no Comité Permanente da Assembleia Popular Nacional e o articulado da segunda proposta publicado a 5 de Maio com a possibilidade dos cidadãos se pronunciarem sobre a questão até 4 de Junho.  [...]

Published in Ponto Final, June 29 2015

And the text original in English with web links:

It is quite dismaying that the recent (second) draft of the “Overseas NGO Management Law” of the People’s Republic of China (中华人民共和国境外非政府组织 管理法) has triggered so little discussion in our SAR. After all, it is not only a law that will apply to “foreign” NGOs (Non Governmental Organisations) but also to a very wide number of organisations, institutions and associations also based in Hong Kong, Macao and Taiwan, as implied by the word 境外 (jingwai, literally outside a country’s borders). The second reading of the law was introduced in late April in the National People’s Congress Standing Committee, and the text of this second draft released on May 5^th with the possibility for citizens to provide comments until June 4^th.

If the original intent of the law was geared at “regulating and guiding the activities of overseas NGOs in China, guaranteeing their legal rights and benefits, and promoting exchange and cooperation”—that’s reasonable enough—the text that was unveiled in early May tells quite a different story, because of its scope and letter, and has sent a chill along the spine of many, both domestically and internationally.

Looking at the scope of the law first, and as previously noted, it concerns organisations beyond the PRC’s de facto boundaries, truly foreign ones but also those separating it from the two SARs and the Republic of China, and these organisations are defined broadly as “non-profit, non-government social organisations” that engage “in fields such as economic, education, science and technology, health, culture, sports, environmental protection and charity”. As pointed out by many observers, it is therefore not only the “usual suspects” that are being targeted—those engaging actively in legal, environmental or social issues—but in effect any non-profit actor: a school or hospital as well as a business association or a cultural institution, a non-profit college alumni organisation or international scientific association as well as a foreign high school band or volunteer medical group wishing to organise or participate in any kind of activity on Chinese soil. And to do so, they would need to either find a sponsor to legally register a representative office (and only one for the whole of China) or find a partner willing to help them through the labyrinth of obtaining a temporary activity permit. Registration, in both cases, would have to be done with the Public Security authorities, contrary to domestic NGOs that register with the Ministry of Civil Affairs.

This very last detail is pretty indicative of the letter itself: registration with the public security apparatus implies that the engagement of overseas NGOs in China is thus perceived from a national security perspective, as pointed out by a law professor from Tsinghua. This becomes even clearer when one reads art. 59 that states that an overseas organisation will be banned from operating on Chinese soil and its representatives suffer serious consequences should it conduct very loosely defined actions originating both inside AND outside China: subverting state power; undermining ethnic solidarity and engaging in separatism; inciting resistance against enforcement of state laws and administrative regulations; collecting state secrets or intelligence; spreading rumours, defamation, or publishing and disseminating other harmful information that undermine state security or harm national interests; carrying out or funding political activities or illegally carrying out or funding religious activities and other activities that undermine state security and harm national interests or societal public interests. As Ira Belkin and Jerome Cohen remark: “if a student group on an American campus protests against Chinese government treatment of Tibetans, the university could be barred from activities in China, and its representatives in China could be detained and prosecuted.”

Many identify the filiation of that draft law with the “seven speak-nots” of Document No. 9 released in April 2013 (that includes “civil society” among the seven values, mostly Western, to be thoroughly rejected) or the more recent pumped-up National Security Law under discussion, and yet many, both within and outside China, believe that this draft law only reflects the very conservative view of a faction within the party, therefore many stakeholders have decided to take the opportunity of the public consultation designed by the NPC to provide their comments and suggestions. A group of 30 Chinese lawyers have thus characterised the bill as arbitrary, in violation of the fundamental national policy of “reform and opening-up” as well as the State Council’s reform spirit of “streamlining administration and power delegation, and as having much negative impact to its purpose of public security protection. Chinese NGO practitioners have sent to the NPC point-by-point comments and suggestions for revision. Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have shared their concerns about five aspects of the law: the broad and vague limitations on foreign NGOS operating temporarily or permanently in China; the onerous supervisory framework for NGOs; the expansive role for the police in approving and monitoring NGOs’ work; the restrictions on staffing and operations; and the punishments for vaguely defined activities. Even foreign chambers of commerce as well as western embassies and the European delegation in China have made their concerns public.

Ultimately, what seems to be at stake is the future of China’s relations with the outside world, and whether the “opening up” that has tremendously benefitted the country in the past 35 years is somehow coming to an end, at least when it comes to ideas—capitalism is welcome, liberalism far less. No doubt that the first one to suffer though if the law was to pass as is would be the thousands of domestic NGOs that have relied on 1000 to 6000 foreign organisations and foundations for funding, training, and expertise to serve millions of Chinese citizens.

Kapok: Social Responsibility

The summary of the 2014 Chief Executive policy address included a small box, oddly entitled “Tips for the Elderly”, in which we were told that elderly citizens were entitled to a significant subsidy of MOP62,000 per year “or approximately MOP5,166 per month”.  This supposedly included the wealth partaking scheme, to which the healthcare vouchers of MOP600 should be added. For the 2015 fiscal year, this subsidy increased slightly, inching towards MOP70,000 a year, and then there are also many other subventions for “disadvantaged people” and citizens with disabilities, including a one-year waver for public housing, a daily food aid budget or a disability pension of up to MOP15,000 per year. All of these measures are real and substantial, even though I do not know anybody around me who could live on that kind of budget, except of course for Filipino, Indonesian or Vietnamese domestic helpers, who as full-time employees working six-days a week—and often more—are entitled to a meager minimum of MOP3,000 per month, including their lodging allowance.
The video of a middle-aged lady slapping an elderly woman in a wheelchair that went viral on social media earlier this week is a clear reminder that poverty, disability or ageing issues cannot be quantified, whatever the amount of money granted. True, the “slapping incident” almost immediately prompted a swift reaction from authorities: the Public Security Police quickly referred the case to the Social Welfare Bureau, resulting in the perpetrator being deferred to the Public Prosecutions Office—for having harmed the physical integrity of another person—and the abused lady being transferred to an elderly residential care home. But even though this family was clearly identified by social services and had already benefited from government-sponsored financial aid as well as counseling, this “incident” has also triggered a community-wide soul-searching campaign onto the how and why this kind of situation transpired. As Cecilia Ho, a social worker, pointed out, “in this case, the result is suspected domestic violence, but the cause is social responsibility.”
Beyond financial aid and legal dispositions, many issues are at stake: the fact that Macao is a rapidly ageing society; the availability and quality of welfare infrastructure and the general quality of life of citizens.
The ageing ratio (the elderly to the youth population) has dramatically increased between the two censuses from 33.6 in 2001 to 60.7% in 2011, and even stood at 73.8 in 2014! The elderly now account for 8.4% of the total population. Facilities for elderly or mentally-challenged people are limited and not sufficiently staffed, be them run by NGOs or private entities, and Paul Pun, the director of Caritas, has stressed that the occurrence of such a dramatic and “shocking” situation might actually be “the tip of the iceberg” and not really the exception.
One of the big ideas proposed by the government is to develop additional facilities on Hengqin Island, as stated again in April by Alexis Tam. But then, what will be the terms and with what kind of consequences for the cohesiveness of the community and inter-generational relations? If Secretary Tam is right to urge his services to do more and better, the head of the Family and Community Service department, Au Chi Keung, is equally right when he explains that beyond the widely-shared revulsion, there was an extraordinary amount of “stress” affecting the perpetrator that led to that horrific occurrence: the scene took place in one of the most densely populated districts of Macao, Fai Chi Kei, and it was confirmed later that the old lady was the mother of the one slapping her, and had suffered a stroke. Reports by the media and social workers then indicated that the middle-aged lady was the only breadwinner in the family and that besides her handicapped mother—who was smacked because she refused to activate the break on her wheelchair—she also had to take care of an unemployed father and a mentally-challenged brother. When one has to work 48 hours a week to ensure the mere survival of a family, with no prospects of improving her situation and almost no holidays, along with deficient social services and degraded neighborhoods, what are the conditions ripe for?

Published in Macau Daily Times, June 26th 2015

Kapok: The difference is Macao... or is it?

While coming back from Hong Kong yesterday, I stumbled upon an old acquaintance of mine, a man of venerable age, a man of the robe—a clerical one—and busy, still, with intellectual matters. After a brief personal recounting, he engaged me on the subject of recent events in Macao. Having to closely follow the nitty-gritty of our SAR’s buoyant political arena, I started painting a contrasting and yet lamentable picture of open-book conflicts of interests, blatant attacks on key principles of the Basic Law—especially when it comes to the separation of powers and the independence of justice—and gross irresponsibility regarding the greater good in a city that is endowed with first world revenues but flawed with third-rated services.
Having made a remark on the SAR’s problem of a lack of spine and principles, my friend observed that this was unfortunately “the reality of Macao,” and that despite all my energy and enthusiasm (not as fast eroding as some would like), not much would change, or at least not in the foreseeable future. I strongly disagree with that, and although I am a pragmatic (meaning not a dreamer) and certainly not pretentious enough to believe I can make a difference on my own—graveyards are full of indispensable men… and women—I sincerely believe that things can and should improve, whatever the context and culture. This is the human condition. When one of our dignified legislators states boisterously that patients cannot reasonably expect all to be cured when going to the hospital, he is basically saying that we cannot hope for better and that there should be no accountability system. Things are what they are because this is how they have always been: Doctor Sun Yat Sen, who was invited by Kiang Wu Hospital to practice Western medicine at the end of the nineteenth century, must be rolling over in his grave!
So no, “the difference is Macao” meaning “why bother?” is simply not for me, and I am truly convinced that those who have made this adage theirs have got their priorities wrong: survival—what kind of legacy is that?—is only a travesty of life. When a majority of politicians are businessmen, pragmatism always prevails over principles—this is true everywhere. The recent interview given by legislator Chan Chak Mo to newspaper Ponto Final is instructive in that respect. Asked why he didn’t pursue his drive to become a directly elected legislator, he simply replied that after an unsuccessful try, he could not resign himself to buying votes, and so he went for a functional seat as it was easier “to control supporting associations”—I would add: it’s even easier when there is only one candidate for one seat! Basically, for Mr Chan, the choice was between “corruption” and “co-optation”. And then, he admits seeing no problem in defending the interests of his constituents (a few dozens associations only): “I represent a sector, I speak for it, and of course speak for myself too.” This is something one can easily agree with, especially when the second standing committee over which he presides manages to delay stringent measures over smoking in public or the minimum wage. Mr Chan is an entrepreneur, the mind behind a big food and beverage consortium. The problem is that he is not backed by the business sector: he represents culture and sports! Does chasing away shops that promote Macau’s creative industries from a heritage building, only to replace them with a Forever 21 outlet, really qualify him? Or is it the horrid Food Festival?
As it is written in the Analects: “At fifteen my heart was set on learning; at thirty I stood firm; at forty I had no more doubts; at fifty I knew the will of heaven; at sixty my ear was obedient; at seventy I could follow my heart’s desire without overstepping the boundaries of what was right.” My old acquaintance is now 83, and thus what is valid for him is not necessarily so for me—a fact he fully acknowledged. And what is valid for politicians in their 60s is not necessarily so for citizens in their 30s. Maybe it is time to accept that fact!

Published in Macau Daily Times, June 12 2015