Kapok: Too late and too little

When on September 4 Hong Kong’s Chief Executive Carrie Lam finally decided to officially “withdraw” the Extradition Bill, the overall reaction in the pro-democracy camp was to say that the move came “too late” and amounted to “too little”.

At the time I felt that the government’s announcement was rather a substantial achievement to be indeed credited to the ever-evolving “Be water” movement. At long last a political response of sort was somehow and somewhat addressing a political challenge that had been dragging for far too long. How could that not be an achievement, far beyond the “suspension” of the Bill on June 15 or any claim the Bill was “dead” on July 9? Neither the temporary shelving nor the burial of this piece of legislation had ever been on the list of demands formulated by the demonstrators — moderates and radicals alike — but the “withdrawal” had been the core, and until June 12 the only demand of the protestors. So yes, politics was back, especially after all the fantasies fueled by saber rattling moves across the border and ill-designed martial video clips hastily cooked up by Communist propaganda.

In my mind, the rebuttal was meant to be temporary, and after a period of adjustment during which things would turn worse before getting better — and how could it be otherwise after three months of resolute and unabated fight — the path for a more rational and possibly peaceful settlement would start to shine again. Things would take time and trust had to be rebuilt: a survey conducted by the Chinese University of Hong Kong in early September was showing that about 69% of the people did not trust either the government or the police, and if about the same proportion of people believed that the principle of non-violent action should be upheld, still 56% considered that violent action was understandable if the government failed to respond to large-scale peaceful demonstrations. Moreover, almost 71% still considered that the demand to set up an independent commission of enquiry looking into police violence and other incidents was a requirement.

More than one month after the announcement of the withdrawal which will be effective only when the LegCo reconvene next week, are we finally seeing a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel? Clearly not. While professing to initiate a dialogue, Carrie Lam made it clear that there would be no other concession, and that contradictory move immediately gave rise to a new show of unity among the protesters, best encapsulated by the defiant slogan “Five demands, not one less”. A butchered 2-hour encounter with district councilors supposed to kickstart a dialogue on September 18 turned into disarray when only 98 out of 458 councilors decided to show up. A subsequent community dialogue with 130 citizens held at Queen Elizabeth Stadium on September 26 turned into a real agony for the Chief executive and her principal officials when participants mostly vented their frustration and anger at the inability of the government to resolve the crisis.

Following further defiance of infuriated and ever younger protesters on October 1, the “Chief Executive in council” decided to invoke the Emergency Regulations Ordinance on October 4 to ban masks at unauthorized protests. The problem is, supposedly because of security concerns, that most marches have not been authorized since August 18, meaning that people cannot even vote with their feet anymore, as marches are banned, the MTR closed at sensitive times and the police being given excessive leeway in the interpretation of the new ban. Things will get worse before they will worsen even more!

Meanwhile in Macao, a decision rendered by the Court of Final Appeal on September 27 states that the Macao police was right to forbid demonstrations in Praça do Tap Seac and da Amizade aimed at denouncing police violence in Hong Kong on the basis that publicly allowing these to happen would have amounted to interfering with the internal affairs of the Hong Kong SAR, and thus violating the Macao Basic Law. As clearly stated by lawyer Jorge Menezes, with this decision, freedom of assembly and freedom of expression are all but history in Macao, despite them also being entrenched in the Basic Law. Will freedom of conscience be next?

Published in Macau Daily Times on October 11, 2019

Hong Kong, standing for freedom and justice once more

On June 9, the march against the government sponsored extradition bill felt like a recast of the protest held on July 1 2003 against the enactment of a state security legislation that ultimately ended up with the bill being shelved indefinitely, the Secretary for Security resigning and the Chief Executive not being able to finish his second mandate for “personal reasons”.

Same main organizer: the Civil Human Rights Front gathering some 50 pro-democratic organizations. Same hot and clear-sky summer day. Same white t-shirts. Same mixed crowd of families and middle-class residents. Same upbeat mood with a different and yet echoing slogan: “Oppose extradition to China.”

Only this time was bigger, double the size actually, with more than one million Hongkongers taking to the streets in an uninterrupted human flow stretching from as far as Fortress Hill up to the government headquarters in Tamar and lasting for more than seven hours.

Only this time the loud and clear demand expressed by one out of seven residents fell on a deaf ear. Speaking only on the next day, Hong Kong’s Chief Executive Carrie Lam pledged to press ahead with the bill and insisted that further delays would only instill “more anxiety and divisiveness in society.” As calls for a second rally opposing the bill were starting to be heard, the LegCo president announced on June 11 that the bill would have to be adopted by June 20, tabling some 66 hours for debate with extraordinary sessions to be held on every single day of the week whereas the LegCo ordinarily convene only on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

Rather than being delayed the legislative process was thus being sped up! All this while the proposed amendments to the Fugitive Offenders Ordinance and the Mutual Assistance in Criminal Matters Ordinances had been heavily challenged right from the start in February.

The Hong Kong Bar Association had published as early as April 2 a comprehensive review of the amendment bill that had been gazetted on March 29. Many voices from all corners of society soon joined — democrats of course, journalists, NGOs, foreign governments and politicians, businessmen with interests in China, and the many professional associations who felt threatened by the law. The same two main objections were repeated again and again, with various degrees of subtlety: why the rush? And why the absence of effective judicial and/or legislative safeguards? The Hong Kong judiciary would only be entrusted with checking the adequacy of formalities and ultimately, only the Chief Executive, himself or herself nominated by the central authorities, would be left to refuse case-by-case demands formulated by China’s courts.

On June 12, the mood of the crowd converging towards the LegCo had changed. This time around, the objective was not anymore to voice out a disagreement and quietly address it to the government but rather to forbid the convening of the second reading of the bill.

The power struggle had shifted from being symbolic and argumentative to meddling with the ugly reality of decision making. Inspiration thus came from the Umbrella Movement of 2014. Organizers were many, and, even though all progressive in essence, from every segment of society. The Hong Kong Confederation of Trade Union had called for a general strike. The Diocese of Hong Kong had implored the government to withdraw the bill. Even small businesses were closed, in different parts of the territory, with some leaving cardboards on their metal curtain reading “Busy being heroes.” And the crowd was young, very young, all dressed in black and geared-up to sustain a siege.

Contrary to September 2014, young people knew that the government would not hesitate to use tear gas, rubber bullets and pepper spray against them. If the effective withdrawal of the bill was to be achieved, nothing could be left to improvisation. Mistakes from 2014 would not be repeated if the success of 2003 was to be achieved.

Out of practicality — the LegCo being inaccessible — the second reading of the bill was officially postponed. But as the crowd refused to disperse and evacuate Harcourt Road, tear gas was fired and pepper spray splashed all over. This is unfortunately just the beginning.

Published in Macau Daily Times on June 13, 2019

Kapok: The politics of memory

Remembering and commemorating June 4, 1989 is not an easy task.

First and foremost as the government that sits in Beijing forbids and effectively prevents any attempt at commemorating what happened in Tiananmen Square and around that day. The official press is silent. People who were at the forefront of the movement are tightly monitored, if not under house arrest or gone for forced holidays. Sensitive places are not freely accessible, be it the Square itself, adjoining streets where most of the bloodshed took place or cemeteries where the ones who have killed that night rest forever. And even virtual candles cannot be posted online.   

Equally important is the fact that the regime has been systemically and thoroughly wiping off all traces of memory in connection with the events, and has refused to revise its judgement regarding those, even though what was once characterized as “a counter-revolutionary rebellion” has become mere “political turmoil” in official lingo. Actually, additional blurriness serves a purpose as it is one step further towards the completion of the erasing process.

And then, in places where it is actually possible to publicly pay tribute to June 4, what is it that we commemorate? The “massacre” so that unarmed students, workers and ordinary beijingers killed by the bullets of the People’s Liberation Army or crushed by its tanks do not fall into the oblivion of a mere “incident”?

But, in commemorating the tragedy and rightfully requesting a long-overdue vindication, aren’t we ourselves relegating to the background the hope and joy that existed beyond injustice and sadness? After all, the occupation of Tiananmen Square was the main stage of a social movement that initially started with a gathering of students from elite universities on April 15. That day they had come to the Monument to the People’s Heroes to mourn the passing away of a former general secretary of the very same Party that would ultimately order to fire on unarmed civilians on June 4.

In between these two dates, a tribute to a reformist communist cadre who had unjustly been sacked two years earlier had transformed over the course of almost two months into a resolute denunciation of rampant corruption and demands for greater political participation as well as democratic reforms, and spread to some 400 cities in China.

This year, as we were commemorating the thirtieth anniversary of the massacre, a lot of the commentaries focused on whether or not the official attempt at wiping out the memory of the events among Chinese citizens and especially the younger generations had actually been successful.

Foreign journalists going around the streets of Beijing with an image of the Tank Man, the most iconic picture in the West of the Chinese people’s heroic resistance to savage repression, and asking passers-by whether they had recognized the image verged on indecency as it produced mainly bewilderment and embarrassment, and clearly did not prove much given the general political environment of the capital city at this sensitive time.

Much more convincing was what Louisa Lim, a journalist turned scholar, has characterized as the “People’s Republic of Amnesia” and her more recent essay in which she remarked that “indoctrinating China’s young people with a utilitarian view of history is an even more powerful tool than censorship itself.”

But then, are these really certainties, even though documentation goes beyond the incidental? Another scholar working on Chinese millennials is now stressing that most of his interviewees were indeed the ones who had brought up the subject of the Tiananmen repression during the lengthy conversations he had with them. Another journalist-scholar emphasizes that a significant number of unabated writers, filmmakers, poets, artists, songwriters and public intellectuals have turned into amateur historians to preserve the memories of the country’s many upheavals. And then, what about the many private photos taken at the time?

In Hong Kong, there is no doubt that record numbers of participants turned up for the vigil this year also because of the ongoing debate over the extradition law. Ultimately, memories resurfaced when they resonate with the present. Sooner or later, they never fail to do so.

Published in Macau Daily Times on June 7, 2019

Kapok: Yellow is the new red

In a recent op-ed published in the South China Morning Post, renowned blogger Jason Ng draws an instructive parallel between the on-going Yellow Vests Movement in France and Hong Kong’s 2014 Occupy Movement, also identified as the Umbrella Movement.

Interestingly enough, Jason’s piece can be read under two separate titles. On Jason’s blog, the emphasis is on the balanced examination of the differences and similarities, and the conclusion clearly leans towards aporia: “Same Color, Different Path”. In the Post however, the editor obviously chose to put the stress on the argument that a more “violent” path could have yielded greater results in the case of Hong Kong:  “What France’s ‘yellow vests’ can teach Hong Kong activists about political protests and the use of violence”. Is it an over-interpretation? There is only one certainty: Jason, who happens to be a lawyer, is no violence apologist, quite the contrary!

On the side of similarities, he stresses the identical yellow color (on the umbrella and the safety vests); the key role played by social media in organizing the demos; the lack of a clearly established leadership and thus the “self-organized” attribute of the movements; the same exasperation felt by demonstrators towards traditional elites overly inclined to design pro-(big)business policies; gaping and growing social inequalities, seen, in both cases, as the “deep-rooted economic woes” [in Hong Kong and France] fueling the movements “beneath the surface”; and of course the unexpected character of the whole unravelling, because of the setting, the magnitude and the impact these occurrences are having or have had on their respective communities and far beyond.

On the side of differences, Jason firstly points to violence and rioting in France vs. peaceful resistance and civic disobedience in Hong Kong—politically grounded creative destruction vs. moral high ground; then there is the divide in political culture, with France being credited for being the birthplace of “revolution” and having a long record of regime change brought about by popular uprisings whereas Hong Kong is described as a community primarily concerned by prosperity and stability—hence the difference in popular support; and finally, of course, the dissimilitude of political regimes and accountability, with French decision-makers having to factor popular support if they wish to be (re-)elected whereas Hong Kong governing bodies primarily answer to Beijing and Xi Jinping’s strongman leadership does not seem to encourage constructive responses to pressure coming from the streets.

In this very balanced depiction, the critical difference has more to do with the political setting and who the leaders have to answer to rather than the use of violence and its hypothetical superior “benefits” in terms of results. Popular sovereignty is the key and indeed the whole Occupy Movement was triggered by the extreme frustration at the political reform package backed by the central authorities.

Actually there is an equal feeling of “unfairness” in both cases, something that Jason Ng does not emphasize enough, especially in relation to the “high hope” people had for the reforms that were supposed to be carried out. It is precisely the discrepancy between the expectations and the bitter reality that allowed deep-rooted resentments to surface, in turn further fueling this acute feeling of unfairness.

In Hong Kong, the betrayal originated in the broken promise of universal suffrage. In France, the exasperation is arising from the perceived treachery of a young and untainted president who had pledged after his election to replace the “old world,” the one in which political elites had lost the sense of common good: he is now the “president of the rich”! Indeed, the Yellow Vests map of protests does not correspond to any traditional form of contestation, and beyond the apparent concessions made by the government to restore “social harmony,” it is the temptation of authoritarian populism that is becoming pressing, even more so now that representative bodies, trade unions and political parties alike, have been declared irrelevant by both the sitting government and the protesters. Similar symptoms in different settings, pointing to the same crisis of liberal values!  

Published in Macau Daily Times on December 14, 2018

Kapok: Half-full, I say!

Most things in life are about perspective. Even a supposedly clear-cut situation can be seen with very different eyes.

Back in 2008, then American Senator Barack Obama remarked in Philadelphia that he had been deemed by commentators as “either ‘too black’ or ‘not black enough’”.

In my home country, France, the recent absolute majority won in the legislature by Emmanuel Macron’s former political movement — after being elected President he had to resign from “On the Move!” — was construed as either “massive” (with 308 seats out of 577, it is one of the biggest since the founding of the Fifth Republic in 1958, whereas the movement was created only in April 2016) or “disappointing” (given the abstention rate of 57.4 percent  the highest ever, and the somewhat under-performance when considering pre-ballot predictions).

Clearly, the glass can be seen as either half-full or half-empty, and this is usually determined by initial expectations and never-ending commentaries.

The same could be said of the just announced new leadership in Hong Kong.

On Wednesday, Carrie Lam, the soon-to-be sworn-in Chief executive, unravelled 21 members of her cabinet that will start working after July 1. Doubters regarding her promise to herald a “new style of governance” have stressed the elements of continuity: the top three principal officials will stay the same — that is Chief Secretary Matthew Cheung, Secretary for Justice Rimsky Yuen and Financial Secretary Paul Chan — and most of the positions will be filled by promoting under-secretaries, senior civil servants or deputy commissioners, while another three will remain in their positions — Lau Kong-wah as Home Affairs chief, Wong Kam-sing as environmental chief and Nicholas Yang as innovation chief. Critics are thus talking about musical chairs at best, and rumours are rife: did the Liaison Office veto some names or did some people plainly and simply refuse?

Yet, the very fact that one — only one, killjoys would say — of these senior officials has been drawn from the pan-democratic camp is truly ground-breaking, although it was somewhat to be expected. By recruiting Democratic Party co-founder and former lawmaker Law Chi-kwong as the new secretary for labour and welfare, Mrs Lam is indeed on the side of innovation; something that would never have crossed the mind of CY Leung. Would it have, it most probably would never have been accepted by the pan-Dems, as “689” (one of Mr Leung’s most amiable nicknames) had come to embody everything that was wrong in Hong Kong’s political past, present and future. Donald Tsang, the Chief Executive from 2005 to 2012, might have, and actually was advised to do so, but either lacked the courage or the proper credentials to follow suit; his long years of service in the British colonial administration led him to be more Catholic than the Pope!

Mrs Lam must find ways of mending the severely damaged relations between state and society in Hong Kong, and recruiting Mr Law is but a first step. The same could be said of the nomination on Thursday of Ronny Tong, a former pro-democracy lawmaker from the Civic Party and a co-founder of the Article 23 Concern Group, to the Executive Council, the consultative body that meets every Tuesday to “[assist] the Chief Executive in policy-making”. Pessimist observers will argue that Mr Tong has become too “moderate”, just like his think-tank “Path of Democracy”, but if not him, who else?

Now, could we ever imagine the same for Macao? Of course not, as this is a process in which pressure is coming from above AND below. Far from validating the common-sense aphorism that “high expectations lead to great disappointments,” Macao is actually creating a proverb of its own: “no expectations at all prompt absolute cynicism”! In the end, this can only be conducive to a rude awakening, unless of course legislative elections become meaningful…

Published in Macau Daily Times, June 23rd 2017

Kapok: Choice matters

Despite all the loathing at the pre-screening of candidates for the 2017 Chief Executive election in Hong Kong, having a somewhat contested selection process, with a few candidates vying for the top job, does make a difference and bring healthy civic benefits. And this, even though Beijing’s “preferred candidate”, Carrie Lam, qualified with 580 nominations (only 21 short of the majority she will need on March 26), against a mere 180 for Woo Kwok-hing and 165 for John Tsang.

This not to say that the reform package proposed by the Hong Kong government in 2014-2015 and derived from Beijing’s August 31, 2014 ruling on the limit imposed as to whom could run is not a travesty of universal suffrage: it is, from every angle and by any criteria, and it does ridicule the core idea of free choice made by the whole body of citizens.

Moreover, it makes the 2007 Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress ruling on universal suffrage by 2017 for the CE election look like a mockery, even more so after the successful so-called civil referendum of June 2014, with a turnout of close to 800,000 voters, that resulted in 42 percent of the participants backing up the proposal allowing the public, a nominating committee, and political parties to endorse candidates for the top position.

Hence, the frustration, that translated first in the truly unexpected period of occupation of Hong Kong landmarks for almost three months — the “Umbrella Movement” — in late 2014 and then the electoral victories of self-determination-leaning young democrats in the legislative elections of September 2016 as well as the record win of 326 seats by pan-democrats for the Election Committee sub-sector elections of last December.

If the pressure put on Beijing and the establishment has changed in nature, it is still very much present and pervasive, and the very fact that C.Y. Leung was not allowed to stand for a second mandate suggests that the central authorities are well aware of the present state of mind of society — an honorary united-front title hardly compensates.

One could argue that Long Hair’s failed attempt at gathering 38,000 popular nominations (1 percent of the eligible voters, in line with the winning motion of the 2014 civil referendum) for an alternative “shadow election” indicates a serious drop in pressure. Even the unofficial referendum on the chief executive election that ended on March 20 resulted in only 63,076 people participating, and yet the final result was pretty telling: 96.1 percent opposed Lam, and Tsang prevailed. The former financial secretary had started to show his predominance in the polls as early as January, and in the most recent rolling poll administered by Hong Kong University, his overwhelming superiority had grown in strength over the whole month of March, whereas Lam had suffered an equally steady decline.

Quite ironically, the discrepancy between the popularity of one — John Tsang — and the certainty of the victory of the other — Carrie Lam — is in itself proving more stimulating than disheartening. First, because despite the election being decided by so-called “small circles”, the campaign has been all about showing that each and everyone was in tune with the people’s concerns — hence the campaign posters in the MTR and the TV debates. Second, because if this is also working in Beijing’s interest by suggesting that the acceptance of the 2015 electoral reform package could have yielded a more congruent ultimate outcome (with universal suffrage, Tsang would probably win), it is also putting in crude light the exhaustion of the present system, to the point where even though issues get debated, alternative proposals barely look more than cosmetically contentious. The triumph of style over substance.

The campaign was indeed less audacious than in 2007, as well as less farcical and gripping than in 2012, but by giving debate a chance, accountability will be easier to assert. No wonder then that democrats in Macao would have accepted a Beijing-sponsored version of universal suffrage: the one candidate-one seat formula in our SAR is not only grotesque but also totally obsolete!

Published in Macau Daily Times, March 24, 2017

Kapok: Frustrating exhilaration

Against all odds, the democratic fervour that has engulfed Hong Kong in the past two years appears far from being abated—quite the contrary.

The clear-cut victory of the pro-democracy camp in the geographic constituencies in September and the advent of a young boisterous generation of self-determination-leaning legislators served as a proof that the spirit of the 2014 Occupy Central with Love and Peace and the subsequent Umbrella Movement had not waned but instead transformed into a fiery force able to rock the boat of institutional politics from within.

Then came the so-called “oath-taking controversy” triggered by legislators-elect Baggio Leung and Yau Wai-ching, that ultimately led to them being unseated by Hong Kong’s High Court on November 15. In the meantime, the pro-establishment camp had ridiculed itself by engaging in self-deprecating bickering and absenteeism and the central authorities had been somehow convinced that a heavy-handed intervention in the form of a secretly sought interpretation of the Basic Law would “scare the chickens by killing the monkeys”.

Up to 15 legislators could fall victim of the ruling, if Wang Zhenmin, the legal advisor of the Hong Kong Liaison Office, was to be trusted. Ultimately, “only” four others are being submitted to a new judicial review instigated by CY Leung and his Secretary for Justice on December 2, including veteran activist “Long Hair” Leung Kwok-hung and Edward Yiu Chung-yim, the newly elected assistant professor representing the Architectural, Surveying, Planning and Landscape (ASPL) functional constituency.

Yet the whole process had but two consequences: on the one hand, the pro-democracy camp has regrouped and is now displaying a resolute unity in denouncing the illegitimacy of Beijing’s ruling: by equating the provocative independence drive of a few with the self-determination-leaning stance of the many, what was originally a discordant aggregate had been turned into a united bloc; on the other hand, the public is becoming ever more wary of the situation, and the public sentiment index released by Hong Kong University on December 15 indicates a plunge of 7.1 points compared to November—Government Appraisal faring the worst—with a level that is becoming dangerously close to the low tide of January 2016 when the disappearance of the Causeway Bay booksellers started to unravel.

No doubt that the announcement, on December 9, by CY Leung himself that he would not run—allegedly for “family reasons”—for a second term in the coming March Chief Executive election was intended as a gesture of conciliation or even a disguised admission of failure: the long-term dislike of and distrust in “689” (the number of votes he received in 2012) aka “the wolf” was yet again underscored on December 13, when another HKU survey revealed that Leung is now the least appreciated Chief Executive since the handover, at only 35 points, beating even the dwindling approval rate of Tung Chee-hwa at the time of the combined SARS and Article 23 crisis!

But if there is one thing that the Hong Kong electorate has learnt from these troubling times it is that their voice will only be faithfully defended by a handful few, whatever the context and the venue, and even though these few cannot be the majority by institutional design they have to become more numerous: on December 11, the pro-democracy camp thus won more than a quarter of the seats on the Election Committee that will designate the next Chief Executive in March 2017. 325 seats out of 1,200! In the election committee subsectors of Social Welfare, Information Technology, Health Services, Legal, Education and Higher Education, the pro-democrats won all the seats and they won a majority in accountancy, ASPL, medical and engineering—all of these knowledge-based!

Out of curiosity I checked if this could ever happen in Macao—thus allowing some form of competition—but unfortunately, even in the more spirited social or education sectors, pro-establishment figures rule and command the votes, including present-day Secretaries and soon-to-be recipients of the Golden and Silver Lotus(es). In Macao, nothing short of universal suffrage can change the system.

Published in Macau Daily Times, December 16, 2016

Kapok: The king is naked

Until the jaw-dropping election of Donald Trump on November 9, all the feverish political discussions I have had on and off-line for almost a month somehow revolved around the controversial oath-taking and its ensuing rejection of the Youngspiration pair of newly elected Hong Kong legislators, Yau Wai-ching and Baggio Leung. That was the talk of the day (and night), and even those who professed to be “bored” or simply annoyed could not help commenting, discussing, and arguing. On my own Facebook page, that gave rise to the longest exchange of comments and responses I had ever had—and mainly with two “Friends”!

The bigger the stake, the higher the level of engagement. The saga aspect of the whole story, with its almost perfectly choreographed traumatic scene—visible and audible—on October 12 and its ensuing twists and turns for almost a month, largely explains the riveting effect it has produced. Moreover, the responsibility of the sudden changes of wind has been rather evenly shared: if the young radicals were the trigger, the pro-establishment forces “voluntarily” chose an unusually buoyant counter-attack to prevent the retaking of the oath, regarding which pan-democrats, old and new, objected vehemently, both vocally and physically.

The atmosphere was not subdued anymore in the LegCo chamber, and fingers were pointed at one another. Furthermore, all three sources of power were embroiled in the situation: the legislature, with its somewhat democratic legitimacy, entrenched the controversy, challenged in less than a week by the executive, requesting a judicial review from the High Court to not only prevent the Youngspiration legislators to retake their oath but to do it for good and thus unseat them.

Unity in both camps was initially far from absolute: not everybody agreed with the rather provocative stance of Yau and Leung among the pan-democrats and some pro-establishment voices were not acting outraged yet and believed things could be settled with a slap on the wrist. The just sworn-in president of the LegCo, Andrew Leung, was himself originally in favour of giving the troublemakers a second chance. When the first whispers of a possible intervention by the central authorities started to be heard, Secretary for Justice Rimsky Yuen indicated that “the dispute […] should be resolved within the Hong Kong judicial system”. After much denial and confusing signs, the admission that an interpretation by the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress (NPC) regarding oath-taking was in the tubes came from a long-time representative for Hong Kong in the NPC (herself already in Beijing), Maria Tam. And the government’s face was somehow salvaged by the revelation that the interpretation had been requested by the Chairman of the NPC, Zhang Dejiang.

When the interpretation was ultimately made public, what the Central authorities consider acceptable or not became more forceful, to the point where the “one country-two systems” principle was irremediably breached: not only does the interpretation venture into law-making by defining the penalties incurred by the “offenders”—thus going farther than the interpretation power—but also provides ample room for political manipulation (define “a manner which is not sincere or not solemn”…). Hence the 13,000-strong participants in the preventive demonstration organised on November 6 to expose a possible abuse of power and the silent march by the legal profession gathering 2,000 people on November 8 to denounce what Democratic Party founder Martin Lee has called “a tank crashing into the legal system”.

What is truly unacceptable for Beijing is thus the self-determination agenda of some radical young democrats, even though the irony is that there was no significant independence-leaning claim in Hong Kong until two years ago—the PRC under the leadership of Xi Jinping has therefore managed to accomplish in less than three years what the British could not do in 155! And to make matters worse, insult was added to injury, although one could debate the actual insulting load of the “People’s Refucking of Chee-na”. The target is a regime, and Chee-na or Shina is not derogative per se, but rather a challenge to the centrality of the “Middle Kingdom”. But in the end, patriots only deal with absolutes! 

Published in Macau Daily Times on November 11, 2016

Kapok: Political Maturity

As Kenneth Chan, a former Civic Party legislator, puts it with a sarcastic bitter-sweet smile: advocating “universal suffrage” and “greater democracy” is not “sexy” anymore in Hong Kong, people want more, and they made their voice heard, loud and clear, via the ballot box, in what some dub an act of “resistance” to Beijing’s encroachment over glorified liberal values. The democratic camp has once again prevailed in the geographical constituencies of the Legco election, and even comforted its precious veto power over bills that require a two-third majority to be made into law.
Should we be surprised? As also acknowledged by Mr Chan, what we used to call the pan-democrats had been talking about and pushing for universal suffrage for more than 20 years with very limited results, quite the contrary. Beijing’s stiffening position regarding the degree of openness it would tolerate for the 2017 Chief Executive election, the growing estrangement of CY Leung, the present Chief Executive, from a politically savvy middle class and the rise of a youth-led protest movement that culminated with the Autumn 2014 Umbrella Movement were bound to have consequences. The signs of change had already become visible in the November 2015 district councils election and again in the February 2016 legislative by-election in the New Territories East constituency: so-called localist groups 本土派 had made a strong showing, thus vindicating the umbrella movement heritage.
But then, a general election was something of a different scale and the context had been changing fast: frustration and humiliation had triggered very adverse and boisterous reactions, but fear was creeping in, even more so with the booksellers disappearance of October 2015.
The scope of data available regarding the election is still limited, but as pointed out by political scientist Edmund Cheng, several observations can already be made.
As far as turnout is concerned — more than 58%; the highest ever — there is obviously a close correlation between street protests and high turnout: the previous record high was in 2004 in the wake of the massive protests against article 23.
The support for the pro-democracy camp (55%) and the pro-regime camp (around 40%) is steady, and the great novelty thus lies in the fragmentation of and the reshuffling of personnel within the pro-democracy camp, in favour of radicals, localists and supporters of self-determination — with the latter concept being fuzzy enough to allow for many interpretations, including a more neutral “community engagement”.
Clearly, there is a convergence between street politics and electoral politics: only two veteran pan-democrats who held their seats before 1997 made it this time and as many as 6 “umbrella generation” activists were elected in geographical constituencies. Is that enough to say with CY Leung that “a large number of voters were dissatisfied with the performance of the pro-democracy lawmakers in the past, and they didn’t formerly vote for the pro-establishment camp”?
For Edmund Cheng, in order to explain why the pro self-determination camp has been able to become a catch-all party in just one stroke, one has to look into structural changes and conjectural forms of mobilisation.
There were indeed transformative effects of the umbrella movement, both regarding the high level of turnout and the registration of new voters. Then the political-identity claim overrode socio-economic issues, although one could argue that the overall highest vote-getter, Eddie Chu Hoi-dick, actually ran a campaign with a comprehensive perspective underpinned by social justice and sustainability. And lastly, polarisation of the vote increased, with a generation gap translating into very differentiated voting reserves.
As far as context was concerned, the disqualification of pro-independence or localist candidates over the summer paved the way for “strategic voting” to become significant — thus uniting the “idealists” — and the influence of social media has become a distinctive and potent feature of electoral politics in this part of the world.
When and if rationality is concerned, vote allocation and strategic voting become crucial points, and social media can obviously compensate for the lack of resources. Points not to be forgotten for our own legislative elections in 2017.

Published in Macau Daily Times, September 16 2016

Kapok: Quarrel of the Ancients and the Moderns

Being once again more in tune, on a daily basis, with politics in Hong Kong, I can now better appreciate how different things are on this side of the Delta. With the ongoing campaign for the legislative elections that will be held this coming Sunday, the contrast is truly striking.
Not that the extent of the debates make things necessarily more enthralling in the former British colony: after all, the independence issue does catalyze a soul-searching discourse while it somehow hijacks the party — with and without a capital ‘P’. Important topics pertaining to social fairness or sustainable development thus play second fiddle.
Or do they? In the end, these are not mere technicalities, and one could argue that they actually necessitate a sense of certainty regarding the future if one is to find solutions that bind the whole community, and for several generations to come. Maybe the order of priorities is not that foolish after all.
But then come the ‘whys’? Why is Hong Kong so modern and Macao so traditional?
Language is not at stake: Cantonese, its plasticity and wealth of diverse and colloquial expressions, is striving in both SARs. Neither is the openness to the latest fads, be them Japanese, Korean or American: Pokémon GO is equally played on a Galaxy Hedge or an iPhone on both banks of the Pearl River.
Structure of population does play a role: only a minority of the population is born in Macao proper, and thus identification with one’s place is less of a contentious point while finding a ‘home’ within the Motherland.
And then, colonial heritage matters too: if “open” elections together with universal suffrage were in effect held sooner in Macao (early 1970s, versus early 1990s for Hong Kong), meaningful ones (with an extended registration of voters) actually started only in the mid-1980s (with a drastic recounting of the voters in 1992) in the barely lusophone city, and then the Portuguese colonial administration was very reluctant to co-opt the local Chinese elite in its higher echelons, a stark contrast with the localization drive of the British — and here I will refrain from comparing Rocha Vieira with Chris Patten, mainly out of respect for the latter.
The nature and organization of two very, very, very (where do I stop?) different economies are essential to understanding the divergence: financial capitalism can be murky, but it can never reach the degree of opacity of a gambling monopoly (now turned oligopoly) essentially resting on “gambling promoters” (the famous junkets) that are held accountable to no one but themselves. And in the context of Macao, outside influences bring tacky sophistication, but certainly not transparency. Laws and regulations in Nevada do — up to a certain point.
And then you have the press — freedom of the press, not only in name, but with independent titles able to finance themselves and run stories unimpaired. Sure, the environment is stifling in Hong Kong, but in Macao, Ou Mun Iat Pou and its propaganda-like content rules, while All About Macau, the most important liberal title in Chinese, still struggles to pay for a server based outside of the SAR…
When election time comes in Macao, there are no lawyers, no university professors, no journalists and no students with a real chance of winning the day. When a CUHK poll published in July indicates that 17% of the population supports independence in Hong Kong — 39% among the ones aged 15 to 24! — it does say something about the condition of the society. In Macao, no such poll exists and we are left to speculate on the state of the society thanks to the grassroots petitions that are mushrooming in support of the soon-to-withdraw UBER. Do people remember what happened with Viva Macau, Macao Dragon Company and Reolian? And then, who owns the taxis in Macao?
Macao, traditional? Yes, but in whose interests?

Published in Macau Daily Times, September 2nd 2016

Kapok: The age of submission

It is unsurprising that the proposal of a law reviewing the Electoral Law of the Legislative Assembly, put forward by the government in that very same Assembly and approved in first reading on August 9 by all legislators but four — the ones we can easily brand our own pan-democrats: Ng Kuok Cheong, Au Kam San, José Pereira Coutinho and Leong Veng Chai — is limited in scope and falls short of the ambition that our less than two-year-old government was supposed to entertain in all matters of governance. Should we be surprised?
Admittedly back in December 2014, serious doubts were raised regarding the capacity of the new secretary for Administration and Justice, Sonia Chan, to carry both a far-reaching reform of the administrative (aka political) system and a much-needed revamping of the judicial institutions — recent outspoken complaints coming from traditionally soft-spoken quarters of society, lawyers and legal advisers leading the charge, aptly testify to that sorry state of judicial affairs.
The main merits of Sonia Chan appear to be that she is untainted — with the indictment of the former Prosecutor General, this is proving precious — and a keen supporter of the Chief Executive (CE). Her previous position at the Office for Personal Data Protection had allowed her to shine as the gravedigger of an inoffensive but embarrassing so-called “civic referendum” targeting Chui’s undisputed re-election in August 2014.
Nevertheless, even though she is only acting on behalf of the vision of the CE, she is supposed to prove herself, just like Alexis Tam and Raimundo do Rosário are trying to do. But then, healthcare, education, traffic management and lodging are top priorities, and the mandate given to her colleagues is loud and clear. On her side, we are in total denial: the system is sound and thus going beyond the reform of 2012 and the ridiculously muted “+2+2+100” formula is out of the question. Electoral democracy in Macao is a matter of technicalities: due processes for the registration of voters and candidates as well as financial aspects and length of the campaign are the only issues that matter. Representativeness: who cares? Quality of the debate: what’s the point? Actual and proven capacity of the ones who represent us all: to what end?
During the public consultation organized in May in preparation of the law proposal, and despite organizational biases favoring traditional and pro-government sectors of the society, persistent voices stressing key (substantial) issues were heard: in a TDM report, a lady was quoted as saying “the issue of insufficient directly-elected lawmakers has always bothered most of us residents” and another resident wondered “aren’t elections all about [justness] and fairness?”, thus “very [reasonably]” asking for “more directly-elected lawmakers” and “[cutting] down on the number of appointed lawmakers”.
To be fair, and in comparison to Hong Kong, the number of elected lawmakers is not that inadequate. In Hong Kong, as of today, we have 3,779,085 registered voters, and 35 (out of 70) legislators are returned through universal suffrage. Overall, that’s one directly elected legislator for 108,000 voters. In Macao, as of December 2015, we have 285,999 registered voters, for a total of 14 directly elected seats (out of 33 in total), so in effect one directly elected deputy for 20,500 voters. So why is the system perceived as unfair?
Having ALL indirectly elected lawmakers (whereas they are the exceptions in Hong Kong) voted in unopposed does not build trust. Having no law regarding political parties, no properly designed constituencies, a flawed electoral system dispersing the votes and an unjustifiable number of CE-appointed legislators do no help either. And then, introducing the review of the law a few months before the elections proper and dismissing any challenge to representativeness as one potentially threatening “stability” in Macao speak volumes about the lack of ambition of Chui: no wonder that the conclusions of the public consultation reports state that for any matter pertaining to the designation of legislators, the decision power rests exclusively with the central government. Submission it is then…