In a two-round election, you follow your heart in the first round and trust your brain in the second. In Macao, we only have one round, so both heart and brain have to be mobilised together. More so because this unique shot at excessively limited democracy happens within a very unfair system.
Unfair because only 14 seats out of 33 are returned via universal suffrage. That is a mere 42.4% of the legislature elected via some kind of competitive suffrage whereas the Macao Basic Law clearly states that “the majority of its members shall be elected”. Contempt for the ultimate law of the land is thus added to injustice!
To be clear, the so-called 12 “indirectly-elected” legislators do not deserve the label of “elected”, unless exactly matching the number of candidates with the number of seats somehow fits the notion of competition.
Has there been any progress since the handover? Yes indeed, at the pace of what the Macao government considers acceptable: we had 10 elected legislators out of 27 in 2001 (37%), growing to 12 out of 29 in 2005 (41.4%) as specified in the Basic Law, and then in 2012, the government took it upon itself to add 2 directly elected seats and 2 indirectly elected seats for the 2013 elections… at the time it was deemed a “successful progress in constitutional development” — an extra percentage point for the representation of the population at large!
Unfair because of the voting system. The so-called “modified d’Hondt” mechanism, a sub-category of Party-list proportional representation, is designed to break down the totality of seats into tiny pieces. The original design was fine as far as representativeness was concerned — although it applied to only a fraction of the Assembly — but Macao introduced its own modification for the pre-handover 1992 elections: the quotient ascribed to calculate the allocation of successive seats after the first one was significantly inflated, thus making it quasi-impossible to elect four members on any single list. Obviously, the then president of the Assembly, Carlos d’Assumpção, had not taken lightly that another list, connected to the independent Chinese-backed “livelihood faction” led by Alexandre Ho Si Him, had received the most votes and managed to lodge three legislators in the 1988 chamber. 1992 then saw the first victory of Ng Kuok Cheong, on a democratic agenda, as well as the first election of Fernando Chui Sai On, on a list, strangely enough, representing the Macao Federation of Trade Unions. Since then, the number of lists in competition has soared, and split lists can even be said to be a 2017 “new normal”!
Finally, it is unfair because of the rigidity of the electoral law regarding campaigning — even more so since the December 2016 amendments — and the unbalanced witch-hunt conducted by the Electoral Affairs Commission (CAEAL). Posting a unique electoral flag outside a dedicated campaigning site is liable to prosecution. But patriotic schools instructing parents on which candidate to choose is of no concern to the Commission. The same goes for the sixty “non-electoral activities involving the distribution of benefits” [查詢法人舉辦非競選福利活動] as detailed by Jornal Tribuna de Macau earlier this week, connected to prominent traditional associations and the lists conducted by Mak Soi Kun, Si Ka Lon, Song Pek Kei, Ho Ion Sang, Wong Kit Cheng, Angela Leong and Melinda Chan. Further, the CAEAL and the CCAC are for now turning a blind eye to “non-electoral activities intended to confer benefits in which candidates are involved” [查詢候選人參加福利活動申報] (!): no less than 62 events for Wong Kit Cheng & co, 24 for Si Ka Lon & co., and an identical 13 events for Angela Leong & co. and Mak Soi Kun & co.
Not so long ago, members of such a traditional and communal association were condemned in first and second instances to prison terms and ineligibility for vote buying despite having denounced selective law enforcement and even political persecution. The times they are a-changin’!
Published in Macau Daily Times on September 15, 2017
Showing posts with label legislative elections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label legislative elections. Show all posts
Friday, September 15, 2017
Friday, August 18, 2017
Kapok: The letter versus the spirit
A lot has been said already regarding the so-called “clarifications” issued on August 3 by the Electoral Affairs Commission (CAEAL) in relation to the forbidding of so-called “political propaganda” — or “publicity” to use a less controversial wording — prior to the two weeks of official campaigning starting on September 2.
The editor-in-chief of this very newspaper called it “bullshit” right away — no need to excuse his French there. And stupid it is, especially when it goes as far as indicating that starting on August 3, all messages, including electronic postings on social media, that would indicate a preference for a candidate are forbidden until the official launch of the campaign, and moreover that all messages posted prior to that date have to be removed!
This applies to the candidates themselves and their representatives, but also to regular voters; citizens whose “selfies” taken with candidates could be construed as “illegal publicity” if accompanied by “explicit or implicit indication” of voting preference. Nothing was said as to how long back this would apply: back to July 12, when the lists of candidates were made public? Or back to March 13, the very day the Election Day was made public? And then how “public” is truly public on social media platforms: does it apply to postings only visible to friends? Why would Sulu Sou, for example, decide to make his profile totally invisible for a while?
But the points made by the CAEAL are not only contrary to common sense, they indeed contravene several core principles of our glorified Basic Law, especially when it comes to freedom of expression and information, as rightly pointed out by some candidates and legal experts.
In the Chinese newspaper with the biggest circulation in Macao, half a page was dedicated to a particular group of interests in Macao yesterday, with three outgoing legislators — two of them running again — being given ample space to develop their thinking on livelihood issues: is that information or propaganda?
If I write in this column that only a particular group of legislators, based on opinion surveys, is doing a proper job: am I helping shape the opinion of the citizens or just mirroring the state of the public opinion?
And then if I say that the most absent legislators in the 2015-2016 session (the latest available) were Vitor Cheung (he attended only 32 sessions out of 42… almost 25 percent of absenteeism!), Chan Chak Mo (34/42) and Melinda Chan (35/42), am I just stating a fact or implicitly indicating that people should not vote for them?
And then, my vote could go to Melinda Chan — she is a directly elected legislator — but the other two are indirectly elected: I do have a say in Mr Chan’s election, being part of a cultural association that is recognised with the right to vote in functional constituencies, but then Mr Chan is running unopposed, so would my preference make a difference?
Several candidates, especially those who are not yet members of this august assembly, have also pointed out that this so-called clarification had two very detrimental effects.
A more immediate one is putting them at a disadvantage compared to sitting legislators. They, the hope for the future, cannot discuss public policies in relation to the elections whereas established legislators can simply talk about their daily routine, even if this consists mainly of complaining in public and complying when voting for government-sponsored bills comes. But then candidates who are truly active all year long, the ones who head meaningful political associations might not be at such a disadvantage: the ones really suffering are the gimmicky one-time vote stealers!
The most important second detrimental effect is that it prevents people from engaging in public debate and thus focusing more on issues rather than persons. Just like expressing a preference or a commitment should not be considered as campaigning, the interpretation of the CAEAL is simply speaking a treason to the spirit of the electoral law.
Published in Macau Daily Times on August 18, 2017
The editor-in-chief of this very newspaper called it “bullshit” right away — no need to excuse his French there. And stupid it is, especially when it goes as far as indicating that starting on August 3, all messages, including electronic postings on social media, that would indicate a preference for a candidate are forbidden until the official launch of the campaign, and moreover that all messages posted prior to that date have to be removed!
This applies to the candidates themselves and their representatives, but also to regular voters; citizens whose “selfies” taken with candidates could be construed as “illegal publicity” if accompanied by “explicit or implicit indication” of voting preference. Nothing was said as to how long back this would apply: back to July 12, when the lists of candidates were made public? Or back to March 13, the very day the Election Day was made public? And then how “public” is truly public on social media platforms: does it apply to postings only visible to friends? Why would Sulu Sou, for example, decide to make his profile totally invisible for a while?
But the points made by the CAEAL are not only contrary to common sense, they indeed contravene several core principles of our glorified Basic Law, especially when it comes to freedom of expression and information, as rightly pointed out by some candidates and legal experts.
In the Chinese newspaper with the biggest circulation in Macao, half a page was dedicated to a particular group of interests in Macao yesterday, with three outgoing legislators — two of them running again — being given ample space to develop their thinking on livelihood issues: is that information or propaganda?
If I write in this column that only a particular group of legislators, based on opinion surveys, is doing a proper job: am I helping shape the opinion of the citizens or just mirroring the state of the public opinion?
And then if I say that the most absent legislators in the 2015-2016 session (the latest available) were Vitor Cheung (he attended only 32 sessions out of 42… almost 25 percent of absenteeism!), Chan Chak Mo (34/42) and Melinda Chan (35/42), am I just stating a fact or implicitly indicating that people should not vote for them?
And then, my vote could go to Melinda Chan — she is a directly elected legislator — but the other two are indirectly elected: I do have a say in Mr Chan’s election, being part of a cultural association that is recognised with the right to vote in functional constituencies, but then Mr Chan is running unopposed, so would my preference make a difference?
Several candidates, especially those who are not yet members of this august assembly, have also pointed out that this so-called clarification had two very detrimental effects.
A more immediate one is putting them at a disadvantage compared to sitting legislators. They, the hope for the future, cannot discuss public policies in relation to the elections whereas established legislators can simply talk about their daily routine, even if this consists mainly of complaining in public and complying when voting for government-sponsored bills comes. But then candidates who are truly active all year long, the ones who head meaningful political associations might not be at such a disadvantage: the ones really suffering are the gimmicky one-time vote stealers!
The most important second detrimental effect is that it prevents people from engaging in public debate and thus focusing more on issues rather than persons. Just like expressing a preference or a commitment should not be considered as campaigning, the interpretation of the CAEAL is simply speaking a treason to the spirit of the electoral law.
Published in Macau Daily Times on August 18, 2017
Friday, July 07, 2017
Kapok: the more the merrier, really?
The very fact that 25 lists of candidates vying for the directly elected seats in the September 17 Legislative Assembly election have been recognised valid by the Electoral Commission should feel like a relief. After all, these ad hoc groupings are what make the legislative elections in Macao look a tad competitive, even though the 14 seats they are fighting for only represent a minority in the Assembly. Another 12 are elected by functional constituencies in which six lists will be running unopposed in five electoral colleges — two lists will take part in the selection process for the professional college, but this is merely to draw an artificial distinction between lawyers and medical doctors in Macao. The seven remaining legislators, thus making 33 altogether, are directly designated by the Chief Executive himself, supposedly for their professionalism and to preserve a harmonious relationship between the legislative and the executive branches of government. Given the recent fiasco surrounding the Land Law, one can seriously doubt the rationale, but then, we don’t hear much from these guys.
In absolute numbers, 25 lists is a lot: we had only 15 in 2001 — the first post-handover election — and then 18 in 2005, 16 in 2009 and 20 in 2013. And 25 might not be the definitive number. Programs have just started to be submitted to the Electoral Commission, and thanks to the new “loyalty pledge” (to the Special Administrative Region and the Basic Law) enclosed in article 30 of the amended electoral law, the Commission is actually endowed with the power to interpret whether these pledges have been done in good faith or not — in Hong Kong, six candidates were disqualified over such an issue in August 2016. Even though the pledges are individually signed, this could heavily cripple some of the lists, which in any case will become irrefutably admitted to enter the fray only on August 8, after all forms of judicial appeal have been exhausted. And when it comes to politics in Macao, law, even in our second system, often follows northern influences, especially when it suits small-circle local interests: back in August 2014, the civil referendum organized by Macau Conscience over the confidence (lack of thereof) people had in Mr Chui Sai On had been branded as outright “illegal” by the government as well by as sycophantic appointed legislators whose capacity to change opinion would make even a Donald blush.
Now, looking at the citizens: back in 2001, there were 160,000 registered voters, whereas we stand at 307,000 today. Only two years after the handover, one could get elected with 5,000 votes (Jorge Manuel Fão), whereas in 2013 the least-well-elected candidate (Leong Veng Chai) gathered some 6,565 suffrages. In effect and relative terms, things have thus stayed remarkably stable in the past 16 years despite the extension of the franchise: if the electorate has doubled, the number of seats submitted to universal suffrage has only grown by 40 percent, and if we anticipate that the minimum number of votes to win a seat might be a little higher this time around — let’s say 7,000 votes — then this threshold has equally only increased by 40 percent!
In the past few weeks, a lot of ink has been spent on departing legislators — depending on the language and affiliation, symbolic mourning has been quite vocal in the press regarding Leonel Alves and Chiang Chi Keong. Others might or will stay though: the Chan Chak Mo, the Fong Chi Keong and even the Kou Hoi In, a legislator since 1992. Now, even Chan Meng Kam, the so-called “king of the votes” of 2013, announced he would not run for this term: fear not, his replacement, not to say his duplicate, Kyan Su Lone, has been dutifully endorsed and groomed for months! And then, William Kuan and his chaozhou followers are joining hands with Angela Leong, so the “sunflowers” should finally get the second seat they have been desperately running after since 2005!
Let’s hope the Democrats finally resort to tactical voting: confronted with an unfair system and manipulative opponents, they owe it to their progressive electorate.
Published in Macau Daily Times, July 7, 2017
In absolute numbers, 25 lists is a lot: we had only 15 in 2001 — the first post-handover election — and then 18 in 2005, 16 in 2009 and 20 in 2013. And 25 might not be the definitive number. Programs have just started to be submitted to the Electoral Commission, and thanks to the new “loyalty pledge” (to the Special Administrative Region and the Basic Law) enclosed in article 30 of the amended electoral law, the Commission is actually endowed with the power to interpret whether these pledges have been done in good faith or not — in Hong Kong, six candidates were disqualified over such an issue in August 2016. Even though the pledges are individually signed, this could heavily cripple some of the lists, which in any case will become irrefutably admitted to enter the fray only on August 8, after all forms of judicial appeal have been exhausted. And when it comes to politics in Macao, law, even in our second system, often follows northern influences, especially when it suits small-circle local interests: back in August 2014, the civil referendum organized by Macau Conscience over the confidence (lack of thereof) people had in Mr Chui Sai On had been branded as outright “illegal” by the government as well by as sycophantic appointed legislators whose capacity to change opinion would make even a Donald blush.
Now, looking at the citizens: back in 2001, there were 160,000 registered voters, whereas we stand at 307,000 today. Only two years after the handover, one could get elected with 5,000 votes (Jorge Manuel Fão), whereas in 2013 the least-well-elected candidate (Leong Veng Chai) gathered some 6,565 suffrages. In effect and relative terms, things have thus stayed remarkably stable in the past 16 years despite the extension of the franchise: if the electorate has doubled, the number of seats submitted to universal suffrage has only grown by 40 percent, and if we anticipate that the minimum number of votes to win a seat might be a little higher this time around — let’s say 7,000 votes — then this threshold has equally only increased by 40 percent!
In the past few weeks, a lot of ink has been spent on departing legislators — depending on the language and affiliation, symbolic mourning has been quite vocal in the press regarding Leonel Alves and Chiang Chi Keong. Others might or will stay though: the Chan Chak Mo, the Fong Chi Keong and even the Kou Hoi In, a legislator since 1992. Now, even Chan Meng Kam, the so-called “king of the votes” of 2013, announced he would not run for this term: fear not, his replacement, not to say his duplicate, Kyan Su Lone, has been dutifully endorsed and groomed for months! And then, William Kuan and his chaozhou followers are joining hands with Angela Leong, so the “sunflowers” should finally get the second seat they have been desperately running after since 2005!
Let’s hope the Democrats finally resort to tactical voting: confronted with an unfair system and manipulative opponents, they owe it to their progressive electorate.
Published in Macau Daily Times, July 7, 2017
Friday, January 27, 2017
Kapok: The virtues of optimism
For reasons most probably linked to my carefree upbringing, I am resolutely optimistic about human nature, and the capacity for good rather than self-destruction. Given the present context, this has become a challenging position to hold: ineptocracy and populism prevail, and rational discourse has been submerged by emotive boasting. One of my secrets for this enduring optimism has been to keep my expectations low: being reasonably hopeful prevents roller-coaster effects, bearing in mind that what goes up will ultimately come down – and vice-versa.
When I read in some headlines this week that Mak Soi Kun, the legislator with the second-highest vote in 2013, was questioning the statistics provided by the Policy Research Office of the government in relation to population growth by 2020, it initially prompted a significant amount of exhilaration in my cortex: could it be that Mr Mak had read my column four weeks ago – the vanity of me! Could it be that the Study Report on the Population Policies of Macao is so obviously baloney that even a below-average – duty wise – legislator realises such and starts to question publicly the basis of such an important piece of decision-making material?
I had in mind that Mr Mak had fulfilled close to zero of the eight promises he made during his campaign, so, I went beyond the catchy titles, and confirmed that apples never fall far from the tree: instead of disputing the forecasted population figure of 710,000 by 2020 as too conservative, he was actually wondering why it was so high. Clearly, Mr Mak does not read Macau Daily Times, and obviously doesn’t get projections and reports from the Statistics and Census Office either, otherwise he would know that the DSEC has made a forecast of 752,000 by 2021 and that given the by-census latest results, the average growth rate of the past five years can reasonably lead us to believe that the population could reach 741,000 by 2020.
But then we will enter an electoral year, so Mr Mak was posturing as the true defender of the “real” Macao residents’ interests. The response of the head of the Policy Research Office was of similar nature: “this is actually just an indicative number,” he said, and of course only a limited happy few will be allowed to enter the gold-paved territory of our beloved SAR! No mention of the thousand hotel rooms opening in the next five years. No mention of the quadrupling of our territory because of the further integration with Hengqin.
Considering what Mr Mak stands for, this is worrying: he has Liaison Office endorsement; he works for the Nam Kwong, a company that openly states that it is “directly under the central government based in Macao”; and he, together with his second in command, Zheng Anting (a former junket operator), represent the Jiangmen communal associations – a very influential grassroots and pro-establishment network of associations of people originating from a neighbouring district (claiming up to 100,000 potential supporters), that benefits from lavish Macao Foundation funding. These are also the people who were directly involved in the Sin Fong Garden imbroglio. I don’t mind that Mr Zheng was not born in Macao, as he actually reflects the electorate: less than 39% of the 2017 electorate were born in Macao, whereas 54% were born in China. The question remains though: what interests are these people actually defending? And the same goes for Mr Chan Meng Kam (also not born in Macao), the so-called “king of the votes” who supposedly gives the communal interests of Fujian a voice in politics.
Contrary to some hasty news reports, there will be fewer people below 30 voting this year, compared to 2013: so indeed, the virtues of optimism will require due cultivation.
Friday, September 16, 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
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
Friday, September 02, 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
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
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