A week ago, HK01, a Hong Kong-based Chinese online newspaper cooperating with The International Consortium of Investigative Journalists revealed that our Chief Executive, Fernando Chui Sai On, and his legislator elder brother, Chui Sai Cheong, had been closely connected to an offshore company, Yee Shing International Limited, registered in the British Virgin Islands, for about two decades. As a subsidiary of Hopewell Holdings Limited, a major infrastructure and property firm listed on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange since 1972 (with revenues of HKD6.64 billion in 2015), this offshore had in effect been co-founded by Chui Sai Cheong together with a long-term executive of Hopewell.
The Chief Executive was only director of the tax-free company for two short years, starting in 1997, and resigned from his directorship on July 30th 1999, shortly before it was announced that he would become, after the December 19 handover, the new Secretary for social affairs and culture. His brother, on the contrary, was only out of Yee Shing for a short spell in 1994 and was still listed as a director in 2010 when Mossack Fonseca, the now rather infamous Panamanian law firm, lost the custody contract for the offshore. HK01 consequently wondered why this function had never been enclosed in Chui Sai Cheong’s declaration of assets, the one all senior officials are supposed to divulge since a more stringent law on such matters was passed in January 2013—more than six years after the arrest of Ao Man Long, better late than never…
Interestingly enough, both brothers came up with a public explanation, and of course these were in line with the responses aired back in April when the so-called Panama papers, of which 29 percent of offshore firms were incorporated either in Hong Kong or China, started to unravel: why the big fuss, when all this is legal?! Chui Sai Cheong gave an interview to the ever-zealous and pro-establishment Chinese newspaper Macao Daily revealing that he had actually resigned from the director position in July 2012 (spoiler!), and that he, therefore, acted in accordance with the new asset declaration law. And then, Chui Sai On’s Spokesperson’s Office made it publicly known that by resigning from all business-related positions prior to his nomination to senior public posts he had been “strictly following the Basic Law of the MSAR”. And things simply went back to normal: silence!
I already argued earlier this year that governing is not only a matter of legality, and that responsibility in politics requires slightly more than being law abiding in grey areas—and the Panama papers are raw diamonds in that respect. The time when traditional paternalistic elites could profess “do as I say and not as I do” is coming to an end, and unfortunately not necessarily pointing to a reassuring future, whatever the setting, democratic or less so—think US, the Philippines, China, etc.
What these offshore leaks have revealed for Macao is well established: paragons of virtue and patriotism, even the ones representing Macao at the CPPCC or the NPC, are the ones practising “tax evasion” on an industrial scale while holding dual nationality. But for the Chui, dysfunctions are of another nature: what is the exact purpose of holding an official position? The younger Chui resigned 12 days before being nominated Secretary and the elder Chui resigned from Yee Shing right in the middle of the revision of the new asset declaration law (passed in 2013, but introduced in December 2011)? In finance, that would be called “insider trading”! And then what about the separation of powers: the two brothers played musical chairs in the very same business! Moreover, Chui Sai On was supposed to champion social and economic housing, both as a legislator starting in 1992 and as a Secretary afterwards, while his brother, now a legislator, was helping Hopewell ripe the full benefits of luxury real-estate programs such as Nova Taipa and then Nova City?
Promiscuity is a powerful excuse on a tiny territory that has a multi-secular tradition of opacity, but still, this is too big to go unnoticed.
Published in Macau Daily Times, September 30th 2016
Friday, September 30, 2016
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
Friday, August 19, 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…
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…
Friday, August 12, 2016
Kapok: To hoist or not to hoist?
In this part of the world, and especially at that time of the year, the right meteorological prediction can often be a matter of life and death: our subtropical climate endowed with a humid monsoon regime is characterized by a Typhoon-prone wet season in Summer, and tropical cyclones are not only fortuitous happenings — although they can provide the like of Joseph Conrad with great fictional inspiration — but regular manifestations of the (still) indomitable essence of Mother Nature.
The deadliest typhoons killed in the thousands, and memories of super-Typhoons do not date back exclusively to the nineteenth century: in 2013, Haiyan left a trail of some 6,300 dead people in its path, mainly in the Visayas in the Philippines, and some put the unofficial death toll well above 10,000. Many reasons can help explain such a dreadful outcome: the path of the tropical cyclone itself (a direct hit is always the worst), the quality of the constructions (more shoddy means more risky), the zoning of lands defined as proper for construction (floodable areas or landslide paths provide additional danger) and of course the extent of preventive measures, mostly determined by proper meteorological assessment.
Macao has a long history when it comes to early warnings in relation to tropical cyclones. Any visit to the Guia Lighthouse, now part of UNESCO world heritage, constitutes a clear reminder that the oldest modern lighthouse of the China coast (completed in 1865) was (and still is somehow) not only a precious guide for sailors returning to safety harbor but also the point of reference for Typhoon signals — made of black-painted metal — to be literally “hoisted” beside the proud white tower situated on top of Guia ill.
The current controversy regarding the non-issuance of the tropical cyclone No. 8 signal as Nida was making its way towards our shores on August 2nd — whereas not only Hong Kong, but also Shenzhen and Zhuhai had issued such a warning — is thus causing a particular worry in our SAR: how come, such a long and well-established level of competence regarding a system of severe weather condition advanced notices could have gone so much astray? Is it a scientific mistake — despite the director of the Weather Bureau (SMG) claiming to the contrary and that everything was done by the book? Is it a blunder — the decision-making process within the SMG proving dysfunctional? Is it the result of outside pressure and thus influence peddling — fingers are being pointed towards the gaming industry? Is it a public relation disaster — the overconfidence of the scientific bureaucrat proving extremely detrimental, as usual? Is it a mix of all these and then what would it take to make things better? José Pereira Coutinho is asking for the head of Mr Fong and some other legislators for an independent inquiry: would that be a start, or the end of the measures to be swiftly adopted?
What is true is that for years Mr Fong and his chief subaltern, deputy director Leong Ka Cheng, had been under the authority of, first, the most corrupt officials of Macao, up to 2006, and then under one of the most incompetent, by some records, up to 2014. No wonder that bad habits — some revealed by a long and detailed article published by “Macau Concealers” — were taken: a sense of complete impunity by the top management, despite the many administrative enquiries, and the ever worsening mismanagement of human resources inside the bureau characterized by extreme forms of favoritism. Some of the shortcomings of the SMG had already started to show in April this year when the bureau was forced to apologize to the public regarding several blunders concerning mishaps related to rainstorm warnings untimely publicized.
Beyond the potential enquiry and the individual culprits that might be found in the end, and beyond the ever apologizing sense of duty displayed by Secretary Raimundo do Rosário, what will need to be restored is the trust within these public departments: only then can the link with the public prove healthy. Competent people need to be rewarded, not the contrary!
Published in Macau Daily Times on August 5th 2016
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