Kapok: Putting a cap

Greece roughly receives the same number of tourists as Macao;  around 32 million per year. Tourism in Greece represents about 20% of GDP and, directly or indirectly, provides a job to one Greek in four: easily imagined is the distress felt when this number fell to 10 million in the wake of the financial crisis in 2010.

Yet, because of the sheer pace of the rebound, people are starting to see (and feel) the negative effects the return of mass tourism is having not only on everyday life but also on tourism itself. Striking a balance between the imperative of “sustainable tourism” and the dangers of “overtourism” has become a necessity, and this despite a whopping 23% national rate of unemployment.

The stress imposed by this massive influx of tourists is even more revealing in the tiny islands of the Cyclades, and especially in the one from which I write: Santorini. When I first visited the iconic caldera exactly 40 years ago, one would necessarily arrive at the small pier of Skala from where one would have to climb 580 steep serpentine steps leading to Thira, the island’s capital, 260m up the cliff under an excruciating sun. Mules were available, but mainly to carry backpacks.

Now there is a cable car, and even though the mules are available for the occasional selfie, only the small connecting vessels from gigantic cruising ships make it to the old pier: island hoppers riding regular ferries arrive at Athinios, the new port, from which a road gives easy assess to the whole island. In short, one does not “deserve” his or her stay in Santorini anymore and during day (and sunset) time it has become nearly impossible to stroll along the dedalum of the tortuous vennels of Oia overlooking the volcano without bumping into packs of fellow visitors.

The marbled ridge path going from Thira to Firostefani feels like a shopping road of Mongkok on a busy Saturday afternoon and every single house has been turned into either a shop, a bar or a hotel — “boutique hotel” carries its true meaning in Santorini! Still small in size — one floor only — all are painted in immaculate white and the occasional marine blue to safeguard the visual coherence of the whole. Yet, Santorini’s mayor Nikolaos Zorzos laments that “11% of the island has been concreted over.”

Two million visitors on a tiny island of 76 square kilometers is proving too much for the 25,000 inhabitants: not only the traffic jams and the overcrowding are proving problematic, but also the fast-rising water and energy bills. Thus Zorzos, among other things, has taken the bold decision to limit the number of cruise visitors per day to just 8,000, down from as much as 18,000 in the past. Zorzos also illustrates the imbalance of the development of the tourism industry by highlighting that there are now 1,000 hotel rooms per sq. kilometer in Santorini, more than any nearby island. I wonder what the Aegean mayor would have to say about Macao where the supposedly “green lung” of Coloane shrinks by the day and the number of hotel rooms stands at 1,250 per sq. kilometer. Are problems different depending on longitude?

In the 2017 report “Coping with Success: Managing Overcrowding in Tourist Destinations” by the World Travel and Tourism Council, challenges posed by overtourism appear to be the same everywhere: alienation of local residents, degradation of tourist experiences, overloading of infrastructure, damage to nature and threats to culture and heritage. Among the measures recommended by the WTTC, of which Macao is part, figures the capping of daily visitors. Macao might not be as bad as Venice, but it does belong to the category of hotspots with the highest risk of over-crowding, similar to Dubrovnik where visitor numbers per day has already been capped even beyond the recommendations by UNESCO, from which Macao derives its World Heritage status.

Published in Macau Daily Times on July 13, 2018

Kapok — Teaching history: what for?

It is not an easy thing to win the heart and mind of the people for government officials in peaceful times.

Being elected is a good start, as elected representatives embody an ideal(ised) form of popular sovereignty. When you are chosen, by a majority nonetheless, then it is easier to build on that initial legitimizing public endorsement.

Sure, it is not perfect — the tyranny of the majority, pitfalls of populism or confiscation of power by professional politicians ring a bell? — but as Winston Churchill famously said: “Democracy is the worst form of government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.” In a nutshell, elected officials do not get to decide on the validity of their mandate.

And then, for public support to endure, one needs to do a good job. This is what we now call “good governance,” meaning that public policies need to not only effectively address issues affecting society but also anticipate on these issues and nurture the community — and its position in a wider globalized world. Sensible public policies do not only help create jobs, but motivate a community of individuals to grow together. Meaningful urban planning, for example, is not only a question of making economic agents more productive, it also impacts territorial integration and thus the social construct of our community perceived as a “we”.

Splashing money around helps too, but it does not earn respect, or even loyalty: at best it delays things for a while, and at worst and more often it only soothes angers superficially, leading to abrupt backlashes made worse by the inability of officials to face the reality of the situation.

Education aims at the long term and is crucial in building a sense of belonging for any community. Language is prime, as your mother tongue — or rather your education language — determines the way you engage with others — family, friends, neighbors, fellow citizens and even foes! Language also shapes the way you think and argue.

When it comes to content, the teaching of history, the history of one’s own community as well as the rest of the world, is crucial for a community. When history was not a science, historical chronicles were the cradle of national (or imperial) narratives that served as a justification for the hold on power of ruling monarchs and governments. Even today, despite the triumph of logos and scientific reasoning, history is instrumentalized to create a “national narrative” or even a “national story”. This is true in Communist-led China, in which freedom of expression is heavily curtailed. This is also true, in more subtle ways, in democracies: the recent debate around a new “World History of France” authored by Patrick Boucheron perfectly illustrates that. The big difference, though, is that in France — the same goes for the United States, Sweden, Portugal, etc. — there was and still continues to be a debate. History as a science dictates that a public discussion, shaped by historians and experts, takes place. This is also true and even more so for textbooks.

What is indeed shocking in the recent superficial buzz (clearly not a controversy) regarding the publication of new history textbooks for secondary pupils in Macao is not the content of the textbooks (the three chapters on Macao, out of 18, do not strike me as indignant), but rather the absence of debate about them, the inability to mix historiographies (that would indeed give substance to the “East meets West” narrative), the personal intervention of Alexis Tam to remove supposedly offensive wording, and the very fact that critical Chinese commentators have to remain homonymous when talking to the press!

In the latest poll by Hong Kong University regarding whether or not Hong Kong people are proud of having become national citizens of China, only a meagre 16% of those aged 18 to 29 express a sense of pride! Can a propaganda-like master narrative turn things over in an open society? What would it then mean in terms of identity and the preservation of the “one country, two systems” formula? And is Macao not an open society as well?

Published in Macau Daily Times on June 29, 2018

Kapok: Paper tigers vs. paper planes

The Sulu Sou case has been an embarrassment ever since the youngest directly elected legislator had his mandate suspended last December 4. Twenty-eight legislators ridiculed themselves and showed to the community their lack of respect for the independence of their own institution and sheer contempt for the very idea of popular sovereignty.

Cowardice was then added to silliness when we came to realize that the secrecy of the ballot would remain inviolable. One can only suspect that Messrs. Coutinho, Ng, Au and Miss Lam were the ones not falling for this disgraceful self-serving “Yes Minister” standpoint. As often in Macao, suspicions and conjectures are what we are left with.

For a while, we believed that the farce would have to stop if the very notion of separation of powers was to survive. In January, bowing down to the pressure of an educated few, sponsors of the legislature’s resolution aiming at banning a judicial review of the legislative process leading to Mr Sou’s suspension had to back down and withdraw their suspicious attempt at preemptively hiding up their mess.

If people as professional as Vong Hin Fai and Kou Hoi In had been exposed for the utter incompetence of their hasty move, it was reasonable to imagine that due processes would be more strictly enforced in the future. The rescheduling of the trial to May 14 was a positive sign and followed a request coming from the defence, thus allowing both parties to lay down their arguments more thoroughly.

What we have seen on Monday and Tuesday this week during the trial, however, appears to indicate that some lessons were not learnt, leading the defense lawyers to denounce an attempt at turning the whole conundrum into a “political trial”: the crime of “aggravated disobedience,” for which Messrs. Sulu Sou and Scott Chiang stand accused of, entails a prison sentence of maximum two years… and without a hint of consideration for the proportionality of sentencing, this is what the prosecution is asking for!

While fooled Sin Fong residents or tricked small-time Pearl Horizon investors get a mere slap on the wrist and a few thousand patacas in fines for indeed seriously disturbing public order, young democrats would deserve a 2-year sentence, and for what exactly? Throwing paper planes in an empty garden and walking on the streets instead of the sidewalk for a few minutes in the idlest district of the peninsula?

As everybody has come to realize, the target is not two years, but rather a month or so: if sentenced for more than 30 days, Sulu Sou will lose his seat for the rest of the legislature.

To the dismay of the defence lawyers, the prosecution spared no effort — some of them barely legal — in trying to darken the whole picture: but by desperately trying to prove the “aggravation,” the prosecution somehow forgot that it had first to prove the “disobedience”!

On the side of tricks, charges that had been dismissed in pre-trial talks were shamelessly reintroduced in the discussion, without the defence being made aware and against all judicial procedural rules. Had the authorized route not been followed? Absolutely not, as the march actually did end under the Nam Vam Lake Nautical Centre white tent — not going up to the Legislative Assembly does not constitute a “disobedience”. I know: I was there and witnessed the talks with the police and the call from the organizers to disband! Thus, a mere 10 individuals went on their own to the Chief Executive official (empty) residence: never blocking the traffic, and never reaching Penha Hill Garden, as barriers had been actually set-up (in advance!) at the very entrance of the Estrada de Santa Sancha. For an order to be disobeyed, it has to be stated first, and a few minutes delay in reaction are not in themselves acts of disobedience.

The question is thus simple: will Messrs. Sou and Chiang be punished for actual crimes, or rather for portraying the Chief Executive as a pig on May 15, 2016? Or should we go back to May 2014?

Published in Macau Daily Times on May 18, 2017

Kapok: Toothless labor organizations

I was recently reminded that in the years leading to the handover, the Portuguese administration had expressed the wish, almost on an annual basis, to move forward with the long-delayed passing of a trade union law in Macao. However, at the time, with the constraints of the transfer of sovereignty becoming more pressing, all projects or proposals of law had to be submitted “informally” for prior approval to the Xinhua News Agency, the one institution that served as Beijing’s unofficial representation prior to the establishment of the Liaison Office in 2000.

Few people remember that the Xinhua News Agency had itself replaced the Nam Kwong in 1987, and the latter is still a force to reckon with in present-day Macao, both economically and politically, as it employs, for example, the likes of legislator Mak Soi Kun, who, in the past few weeks, has been making his high-pitched voice heard in favor of installing CCTV cameras all over the streets while recommending teaching “national security” in schools.

Xinhua’s refusal to “grant” a trade union law to Macao is easily understandable. For a start, the move was considered as useless: in the People’s Republic of China, the All China Federation of Trade Unions was (and still is) a mass organization directly supervised by the Chinese Communist Party, thus the mere idea of an “independent” relay in society representing the workers’ interests did not strike a chord. Moreover, the Macao Federation of Trade Unions (FAOM) already existed — “sponsored” by the Chinese communists at the end of the 1950s [actually early 1950s]— and it had faithfully served its purpose by ensuring stability for the good sake of the colonial administration and swiftly channelling the political guidance of Beijing. Finally, the initiative looked rather suspicious: after all, the colonizers had had ample time to pass such a piece of legislation, why the sudden rush? Why now and not then?

Could things change for the better after 1999? Looking back at 1992, that was the year when Fernando Chui Sai On got elected for the first time at the Legislative Assembly on a ticket representing… the Macao Federation of Trade Unions! The charity arms of business interests in the territory take good care of the most deprived members of society, so much so actually that it prohibits them from being genuinely represented.

Thus, although the right to form and join a union is enshrined in Article 27 of the Macao Basic Law and constitutes a significant component of at least three international covenants and conventions of which Macao is a signatory, there is no way the benevolent entrepreneurs who run the show will ever introduce such a law on their own, without a strong enough push from the ones vying for it. Legislator José Pereira Coutinho knows it more than anyone else: he tried to introduce a trade union law on nine occasions and failed flatly every single time. And even when he got the support of the “yellow” FAOM — in this part of the world, we say “tofu union” — it was never enough to tilt the balance in the right direction.

Back in 2007, when we still had dozens of independent organizations taking to the streets and 5 or 6,000 demonstrators showing up on May 1, some saw the possibility for a very embryonic bona fide civil society to develop. That was the time when plainclothes policemen would shoot in the air to intimidate the crowd! The next year, the wealth-partaking scheme went into effect.

Fast forward to today: May 1 has become a total fraud! The FAOM organizes banquets with the government on the evening of April 30, and its main demand concerns a few extra bank holidays that fall on Sundays! The most vocal demonstrators defend their property rights, and trust more the Liaison Office than Mr Tam! Meanwhile, labour rights in Macao have remained the same since… the mid-1980s! Consumers of the world, Unite!

Published in Macau Daily Times on May 4, 2018

Kapok: Reconciling the irreconcilable

Maybe it was mere slip of the tongue. Maybe it was simply a manner of speaking. Or maybe it was truly what was meant. Yet, when the Chief Executive seemed to imply in his out of the cuff response to an unscheduled question addressed by legislator Ng Kuok Cheong that Macao had been “imposed” the mutual recognition of driving licenses between the mainland and the SAR in order to satisfy the grand plan of regional integration defined by the central authorities, it caused indeed more confusion than relief.

After all, legislator Ng was bringing up the matter because of a widespread public concern that this would indeed affect traffic very adversely, bearing in mind that this mutual recognition had been originally pitched by the government as a way to facilitate things for Macao citizens. Even though this is not antagonistic, it does suggest a logical discrepancy that has far-reaching consequences as to what presides over the design of a public policy: either you initiate or you obey, and then for whose benefit?

Beyond what it reveals once more of this Chief Executive — his clear inability to argue for what is supposed to be his own policies when he cannot mumble a written document — this mishap might prove to be useful in the end as it will allow to open a debate on the adequacy of such a  highly debatable scheme. The very same day, suspended legislator Sulu Sou was staging an event outside of the Assembly contesting the validity of the already proclaimed government dispatch regarding the mutual recognition, as both the haste of the proclamation and the lack of justification(s) for it seemed to clearly indicate that “a bigger power” — to use Sulu’s wording — was at play.

This is all the more saddening that the government, and Mr Chui in particular, are in the midst of trying to sell the latest fad for an ever-bright and prosperous Macao beyond gaming: the development of the Greater Bay area! It is no secret that the vision to integrate further the urban continuum between Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Zhuhai, Foshan, Huizhou, Dongguan, Zhongshan, Jiangmen, Zhaoqing, Hong Kong and Macao was the centrepiece of the discussions for Macao’s representatives who attended the “two meetings” in Beijing in March. It was especially true for the twelve Macao representatives at the National People’s Congress, including four (Ho Iat Seng, Kou Hoi In, José Chui Sai Peng and Si Ka Lon) who are concurrently members of the Macao Legislative Assembly.

So, when I read that “many lawmakers expressed doubts regarding the influence and relevance of the Greater Bay Area plan”, I can perceive a sense of irony in the journalist’s report, especially as Kou Hoi In himself took the lead in rhetorically raising some questions. The Chief Executive’s exposé had been — to remain polite — dreary: “promote infrastructure connectivity”, “enhance the level of market integration”, “build a global technology and innovation hub”, “build a modern system of industries through coordinated development”, “build jointly a quality urban environment”, “cultivate greater strength in international cooperation”, and “support the establishment of major cooperation platforms”.

Over the past month, pro-establishment legislators have been all over the place in trying to illustrate, sometimes very creatively, what the Greater Bay Area could entail: such is the case of Si Ka Lon who is now suggesting the creation of a sea reserve for international tourism, or Zheng Anting (Jiangmen belongs to the network of eleven cities) who would like the scheme to facilitate the relocation of aging citizens on the mainland. In the Chinese press of Macao, it is no less than 1,155 articles that focused or dealt with the “Greater Bay Area” since mid-March: no wonder then that the Chief Executive appeared to be obsessed with an ever-increasing integration of Macao in the Pearl River Delta!

But how, when and for whose benefit? In the questions addressed to Mr Chui, there was absolutely no mention of Hengqin and its ongoing development. Yet, the island was the subject of 150 press articles in Chinese over the same past month: beyond the slogans, reality bites!

Published in Macau Daily Times on April 20, 2018