Kapok: Popular sovereignty

Referenda can be divisive, very much so. And the vote over whether to remain in the European Union or not that is taking place in the United Kingdom at the very moment I write this column, demonstrates just that, or should I say reminds us of that, with the extra measure of ever invasive social media. A Poll-tracker set up by The Economist indicates that on June 20th, we were in for a tie — 44% to remain, 43% to leave, and 11% undecided. The UK Independence Party (UKIP) supporters are the leading force for what now everybody knows as “Brexit” (90%), the Conservatives are less supportive but clearly in favour of leaving (48%), so are people from the north of the country (43%), the Welsh (51%), the poor (52%) and the old (57%). The opposite is also true: Liberal Democrats (69%) and voters who identify with Labour (64%) want the UK to stay within the EU, Scots too (54%), and southerners (44%), the rich (53%) and the young (60%). Gender, however, does not seem to lean to either side — men are evenly divided, and so are women.
As a French citizen, I participated in four referenda — and for two of these I was already living abroad. The two referenda pertaining to domestic politics — the self-determination process for New Caledonia back in 1988 and the shortening of the president’s term to five years instead of seven in 2000 — went rather smoothly and did not provoke a nationwide schism. Abstention ran high, respectively 63% and close to 70%, and in both cases the highly anticipated approbation was a clear-cut winner, respectively 80% and 73% of the votes cast. Referenda only existed as a validation of something that almost everybody considered the right — even dignified— thing to do.
The other two popular consultations proved to be much more challenging, so much so in fact that the second one resulted in a rebuttal of the government’s proposal. And guess what? In both cases, Europe was at stake!
In 2005, the question was about whether to ratify the Treaty establishing a Constitution for Europe. The “no” prevailed (almost 55% of the votes cast) whereas participation had been very high (close to 70%). This translated into a thorough revamping of the existing treaties that ultimately led to the Treaty of Lisbon in 2007, which came into force in December 2009.
Back in 1992, the question had been about the ratification of the Maastricht Treaty that was to create the European Union. As the poll was getting closer, the “no” grew in strength and then President François Mitterrand launched a very energetic campaign to convince the citizens to give their approval.
The whole atmosphere is still very vivid in my mind as I was myself campaigning for the “no”, considering that European institutions were taking yet again a bureaucratic turn, away from the democratic ideals they were supposed to not only profess but also practice.
Mitterrand had started his political crusade in my university, Sciences Po, targeting the educated and politically savvy future generation, when some friends and I unfolded the Danish flag right in front of his eyes as he was about to deliver his lecture. I perceived a certain form of annoyance in the statesman’s eyes — to the point where security services ripped apart our big bright banner! The Danes had voted predominantly against the Treaty just a few weeks before! Even though the “yes” eventually “triumphed” (51%…), and despite my own frustration, the whole experience had actually proven constructive: arguments of all hues had been laid bare and populist rants were indeed almost like a necessary evil — on both sides! This is what popular sovereignty is also about!
The infighting of epic proportion between “Brexit” and “Bremain” is thus not only about “divide” but also interest, awareness, sense of belonging, community-wide soul searching, and ultimately freedom. Branding referenda as disrespectful when they are not, illegal when they are not, can only serve one purpose: deception, not harmony.

Kapok: The Plumber and the Architect(s)

In the latest stages of the protracted public consultation regarding the amendment of the electoral law for the Legislative Assembly — remember, we have elections next year — the voice of the people has finally been heard. Over the noise of the complacent faithful, the message is loud and clear: there should be more seats, and of the kind that is directly elected by the people — a sovereign body of citizens. Ironically, it is the multitude that is proving to be the architects, with a design for the future in mind, a better one for all. In contrast, the powers that be are acting like plumbers, of a fix-it Felix sort who would have lost his enchanting capabilities.
During the first consultative meetings, only members of the legislature and supporters of well-established associations and corporations were asked to participate, and of course, apart from subdued outbursts by a few isolated participants, the sessions followed to the letter a very predictable pre-­written script.
Pro-establishment figures of the society insisted on minor adjustments or additional restrictions, with the occasional decorous pro-business “trouble-maker” making a “bold” suggestion: why not have additional “functional constituencies” now that the society has grown in size and complexity, proposed Angela Leong, a record-holder as the most absent directly-elected lawmaker.
Never mind that in Hong Kong many people are now challenging the validity of “functional constituencies” for their uneven size and composition, denouncing these so-called representatives who hold multiple votes, sometimes in multiple constituencies, and condemning the fact that 16 out of 35 candidates in these constituencies ran uncontested in 2012, thus casting a shadow on the concept of electoral competition.
In Macao, a quick look at the registered associations supposed to “indirectly elect” legislators representing only five “sectors of activity” reveals that most of them are intertwined, with such-and-such legislator, or even member of the executive council, being on the board of dozens of these “collective personalities” with the right to vote. Ultimately, in Macao, none of these “indirectly elected” legislators is ever contested in his constituency: they systemically run unopposed!  What is an election without a choice? What is the meaning of a contest without candidates to opt for?
And then, when pro-democratic and independent legislators suggest that there is a need for more directly elected seats, why is the idea being rejected on the ground that “it is not adequate to go forward with reform too quickly in [Macao’s] political development”? Why is it objected by legislators who are themselves all appointed by the Chief Executive?
Article 68 of the Macao Basic Law indicates that “the majority of [the legislature’s] members shall be elected”: we have 33 members, 14 are returned by universal suffrage whereas 12 run uncontested and 7 are still appointed (something that existed only in colonial Hong Kong), so we are either missing six additional directly-elected legislators or the electoral law should be in for a far deeper revamping than the four-fold limited adjustments presented to us.
The claim is that these highly sophisticated fine-tunings of our electoral rules are based on reports and observations made by different governmental agencies since the last time we held legislative elections in 2013. Is that really so?
Monitoring expenses and capping them: yes, correct. Strengthening the supervision of electoral activities and updating the rules for candidacy: yes, indeed, but not necessarily the way it is proposed. Defining more clearly what is meant by promotional efforts associated with an electoral campaign and regulating such promotional efforts: sure, but certainly not by completely letting go with the opening of a pre-campaign period during the six months prior to the official campaign.
On the banning imposed to elected members of the Legislative Assembly to hold any political position in a foreign country, well, this is only logical, and I find it absolutely proper, especially because it could be far more stringent and indeed impose a strict Chinese nationality upon all legislators—an extra step not many would rejoice about, I am sure, in the present legislature.

Published in Macau Daily Times, June 3rd 2016

Kapok: Of Mountains and Molehills

My, my, my, so many things happening and so many documents being released, all at once: the five-year development plan is now being discussed, the “Interim review of gaming liberalisation for games of fortune” (love the official catchy title!) is being scrutinised and of course the “Revision of the electoral law for the Legislative Assembly” proposal is being opened to consultation — wide and large. Out of consideration for the publisher of this newspaper, I’ll mainly focus on the latter, but let me just ponder for a line (or twenty) on the two other monuments of scientific policy-making at hand.
We have known about the 13th national five-­year plan and roughly how it would translate for Macao at least since last November. We heard again about this plan in March, right after Mr Chui’s return from attending the “two meetings” in Beijing. I even wrote a column about it, stressing that “inclusiveness” and “greening”, two of the five key-concepts of the plan had been cast aside for no good reason. Now, I can see that these core ideas have been re-introduced, and yet the lack of specifics, the disrespect for pre-existing and drawn-up schemes (most of them with the year 2020 as their horizon), and the absence of well-defined targets (with numbers!), both intermediate and final, are simply beyond my understanding. Or wait!?! Could it be that the lessons from the total failure of the “General Policy on Traffic and Land Transportation in Macao (2010-2020)” are finally sinking in? Better not have specific target figures with a clear schedule and intermediate stages, otherwise we will have to show the world (or at least our community) that in lieu of science we bring delays, constant revisions and ultimately pointlessness to the entire plan. Adding the imperative of building a “smart city” to the whole enterprise won’t change a dime: in order to have what can be called a city, you need a master urban plan, and for that city to be smart, you need innovative and independent people to run the show freely from vested interests.
Now, looking at the interim review: well, let’s just say that the concessionnaires are credited for having by and large fulfilled all their contractual and operational duties. The positive impact far outweighs the negative downsides, and slightly muscling the “regulatory effort” will unmistakably allow for “a healthy and orderly development of the industry.” Well, if it had not been for Beijing’s new normal and sweeping fight against corruption, the deleterious explosion of junket operations would have never been reined in.
In November 2015, the DICJ was still talking of a simple “code of ethics” for gaming promoters, just like for pharmacists, doctors, lawyers and journalists! Did not I read somewhere that VIP rooms are the place where money-laundering takes (took…) place? Nobody will deny the astounding changes the liberalised gaming industry has brought to Macao: its colossal success has somehow brought pride to the sleeping beauty of the East, but, was it achieved evenly and for the benefit of all? Just like Archimedes’ principle, adverse forces tend to equal favourable ones, despite being different both in scope and nature — overpopulation, traffic congestion, domestic violence, family dysfunction, etc. And then, “tourism and recreation” were the chosen paths inscribed in article 118 of the Basic Law, not gambling, gambling and possibly gambling. Ultimately, making it straightforward and official, right from the start, that this interim review will not count in the 2020/2022 concessionaires renewal process might not be the best of ideas while we are still contemplating the fragile early stages of a long overdue drive towards diversification!
Blimey! No more space for Mrs Sonia Chan’s ambitious plan to reform the legislature’s electoral law! To be honest? Never mind: just like for the 2012 “+2+2+100” missed opportunity at real political reform, the proposal is overly modest and fails to address the core issues — a law on political parties could have been a start. Some people still think that the engine just needs a paint-job: wait until it stops!

Published in Macau Daily Times, May 20th 2016

Kapok: Impotence in politics

Several reasons can explain why many governments around the world, in democratic or partially democratic and at least liberal settings, have become impotent, incapable of solving clearly identified issues and designing ill-suited public policies resulting from compromises that ultimately satisfy nobody.

When the blame is put on outside forces, globalisation often becomes the big villain and supra-national entities, the United Nations and the WTO worldwide or the European Union institutions on a regional scale, are common embodiments of this wicked and not-so-distant influence.

When the ailment appears to be coming from within, then the elites and especially political elites are being held responsible: alleged deadlocks and deficiencies originate from the excess of institutionalisation of traditional political organisations and the overly intimate relations between stakeholders, be them in the political, economic, social or cultural spheres. Innovation is thus constantly frustrated and conflicts of interests grow on the back of an overall sense of unaccountability and impunity.

What often tie all these together is a perceived submission to the unrestricted and nefarious forces of the “free-market”, and henceforth the dominant position that self-centred corporations tend to acquire in polities. In a nutshell, governments and their ability to act fall victim of constraints coming from all sides: the sense of what makes a community holds together is being challenged persistently, hence the discomfort felt regarding the authenticity and logic of established forms of representativity.

Symptoms of this defiance towards traditional and “representative” politics, whatever its arrangements, are aplenty. In 2011, we had the Geração à Rasca (struggling generation) movement in Portugal and the Indignants in Spain. Later in the year, there was the Occupy Wall Street movement in the United States, with its inspiration admittedly coming from the massive occupation of the Puerta del Sol.

Closer to us, we had the Sunflower student movement in Taiwan in 2014 — a distant echo of the Wild Lily student movement of 1990 — that ultimately led to the occupation of the Legislative Yuan on March 18. In Macao, we had the short-lived Anti-Compensation movement of May 25 and 27 of the same year that eventually forced the government to back down on an overly generous perks bill tailor-made for its soon-to-be retiring senior officials. In Hong Kong, the Occupy Central movement transformed into a city-wide Umbrella movement in late autumn 2014 and led to the youthful and politically boisterous occupation of several key parts of the city for more than two months.

In my home country, the birthplace of revolutionary movements that led to the demise of the “old regime”, to paraphrase Tocqueville, we have had the “Nuit debout” (literally “Night, Standing Up”) on the place de la République for about a month now. Beside the baroque mix of denunciations taking aim at such varied issues as "‘speciesism’, multinational corporations, capitalism, G.M.O.s, the police and nuclear power", the motivations are the same: letting go with worn out traditional forms of representation — individuals are to be trusted more than groups — and founding a new political culture — beyond the left and right devide, with the possibility to express oneself at any time, with the recognition that an individual is as much a citizen as he or she is a consumer and resolutely grounded in digital networks. In the end, these movements want to reconcile the apparent antagonism between “making society” — binding together — and respecting the singularity of each and every individual, without having to subsume under a collective identity.

In Macao, the clothes of the emperor are wearing out. Beyond the issue of legality — tax evasion is not, tax optimisation supposedly is — the Panama Papers question the exemplarity and trustworthiness of the ones in power: how can a personality holding an official mandate lie about his assets to a court of justice? How can an official serving in the CPPCC or NPC hold concurrent nationalities, be them Singaporean, American, Australian, Canadian, British or Portuguese? How can a supposed Beijing loyalist give lessons in patriotism while cultivating back door escape routes only available to the happy few? Are these “persons representative of various strata and sectors of society” really so?

Published in Macau Daily Times on May 6 2016

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