Kapok: Who does what?

The publication of the yearly report of the Legislative Assembly always provides an interesting snapshot of politics in Macao and a better understanding, albeit limited in depth, of who does what and why.

The report in itself has been trimmed this year — 38 pages for the 2018/19 session versus 48 pages for the previous one — and really pales when compared to the document issued by the Hong Kong Legislative Council — 175 pages in the latest file available in our sister SAR.

Moreover, starting in 2014/15 with the first report put together under the efficient-minded presidency of Ho Iat Seng, these reports have shied away from making any comparison with previous sessions when examining the number of laws passed.

Up to 2014, a simple graphic with a timeline would serve as a benchmarking for the current session: that year, only 9 laws had been passed, against 15 in 2012/13, and a multi-year bar chart reminded the casual reader that the most active legislative session ever had been the 2008/09 one, with a record 27 laws adopted. That session corresponded with the last year of Edmund Ho as Chief Executive: the vast majority of the bills are introduced by the government in Macao, and thus the idea was clearly to start with a clean slate for the next government after years of backlogging.

The year 2018/19 is no exception — although I had to go back to previous reports to establish that fact — as a total of 25 laws were adopted last year (almost on par with Hong Kong!), making it the most active legislative session of the Chui Sai On era. Almost three times more laws passed than in the least active year — only 9 laws approved in 2015/16. But Mr Chui should not feel mortified as only 6 laws were ratified in the very troubled session of 2006/07 at the time of Edmund Ho — the year of the downfall of Ao Man Long and the largest May Day protest.

Clearing the way for the upcoming Ho Iat Seng era was therefore the priority, and that was done quite efficiently: 28 laws were introduced in 2018/19, and 25 passed, that is a successful ratio of 89%… quite an improvement on the 48% of 2017/18! Yet, when one looks carefully, a good third of the 25 laws adopted are actually amendments of existing laws, even though, again, that is an improvement on the previous session when half the laws were mere revisions.

The report also provides insight into the commitment of individual legislators to their job. Again, there was a time when independent associations in Macao would survey the citizens regarding the performance of their legislators. There was also a time when a website — http://almacau.net/ — would feed us with extremely detailed information about each and every lawmaker, allowing us to connect the way they voted with their political stance and vested interests in society. But these times have been gone for years and we are left with an ever-shrinking and rather unsurprising report.

The least active legislators in raising questions to the government are the ones appointed by the CE or small-time businessmen-turned-politicians with dubious background and limited abilities, such as Cheung Lup Kwan and Chan Chak Mo, who spent the whole year formulating exactly ZERO oral or written interpellation addressed to the government. Cheung Lup Kwan together with President Ho Iat Seng, who resigned in July and was too busy preparing for his solo candidacy to the CE position, are the two legislators with the worst attendance for plenary meetings: respectively 35 and 34 recorded attendances out of 52 meetings altogether! Mr Cheung, who has been the least committed legislator ever since he was first elected in 2001, pushed the contempt for the function to a new height this year by showing up only ONCE in 65 meetings of the third permanent commission of the Assembly, despite that commission examining eleven laws!

Self-induced ignorance and inaction can indeed be rewarding!

Published in Macau Daily Times on September 27, 2019

Kapok: Do as I say not as I do

In his first second-term policy address in March 2015, Mr Chui Sai On gave the assurance that consultative bodies would from now on be better regulated. The pledge was twofold: limit the number of consultant positions concurrently held by the same person to a maximum of three and limit the number of years of service in such positions to a maximum of six. A brand new team of Secretaries having been sworn in, the rationale was that if much needed and imaginative public policies were to be put in place, cells of resistance and possible conflicts of interest had to be subdued within these consultative bodies.
When things are decided by the happy few, consultation processes become a life-line. During an official ceremony marking the 65th anniversary of the Communist regime in September 2014, Mr Xi Jinping himself praised “consultative democracy” as China’s unique way of allowing the people to participate in governance. Even if the President’s understanding of democracy was clearly derived from Marxism-Leninism, his urge for a well-established feed-back mechanism coming from the masses was genuine.
In Macao, dozens of public consultations concerning all kinds of governmental decisions have been organised, with varying degrees of soundness, relevance and legitimacy, despite a thorough revamping of the rules in August 2011. Moreover, consultative bodies have mushroomed, totalling now 47 such institutionalised gatherings [I had originally written 46, but forgot to add the newly appointed Urban Renewal Committee] placed under the direct authority of either the Chief Executive or one of the five Secretaries. With 17 consultative bodies under him, the Secretary for Social Affairs and Culture tops them all. These organs do not hold any actual power, but their members do influence the decision-making processes and ultimately the policies themselves.
In mid-March, All About Macau, a liberal-minded Chinese newspaper, came up with the story proving that prominent businessman Paul Tse was actually sitting on more than three such bodies, contrary to Chui’s commitment. Then, the same online outlet published a list of 24 personalities sitting on at least three boards of public agencies and consultative committees. Paul Tse was listed with seven such positions and so was lawyer-turned-legislator Vong In Fai, who was also Mr Chui’s chief campaigner in 2014. Chui Sai Peng, the very own cousin of Mr Chui Sai On and also a legislator, appeared on the list as well, and his name appeared again in the headlines on April 11 when it was discovered that an association he is heading had received important public funding to publish textbooks without going through a public tender. Possible conflicts of interest come in many guises in Macao but often originate in business circles, the Legislative Assembly and these consultative bodies.
Ever since the unravelling of the Ao Man Long scandal, the prevention of corruption at the highest echelon has been advertised as a priority: Chui Sai On’s first “real” policy address in November 2010 was all about “sunshine government” and “scientific administration.” If the enduring results of the latter had been always seriously doubted, the former was somehow being given credence, at least until February this year: the arrest of former prosecutor-general Ho Chio Meng on charges of fraud and abuse of power is now casting a long shadow on the system as a whole.
A conflict of interest – a personal interest taking precedence over the community’s – does not equate with corruption, but in the words of the European Parliament it can be “considered an indicator, a precursor and a result of corruption.” When the secretary for Administration and Justice Sonia Chan asserts that there are less than ten personalities who participate in more than three consultative bodies and that this is being taken care of gradually, should we trust her, especially when the time spent in any given position is not even questioned? What about the issue of patronage? Indeed, the very same Chui Sai Peng sits on a staggering 143 boards of associations! And what about a standing committee member of the CPPCC sitting concurrently on boards of three universities in Macao?
The “small world” excuse is just that: an excuse. After all, the Athenian Democracy was designed for a city half the size of Macao.

Published in Macau Daily Times on April 22 2016