In the early 1980s, when London and Beijing began negotiating the terms of Hong Kong’s return to Chinese sovereignty, China’s then paramount leader Deng Xiaoping promised Britain that the city could retain its way of life for 50 years after the July 1, 1997, handover.
“One country, two systems”, “a high degree of autonomy” and “Hong Kong people ruling Hong Kong” were the terms used to reassure the city’s people and businesses. Under the terms of the 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration, Hong Kong was to retain economic and judicial independence, with the human rights treaties Britain was party to continuing to apply.
Its last British Governor, Chris Patten, tried injecting a modicum of democracy under pressure from local activists and civil society. Unlike his predecessors – mostly diplomats overly sensitive to Beijing’s concerns and its insistence on not an iota of democratisation to be introduced in Hong Kong – he was a politician. Albeit a Conservative Party stalwart, Patten was rather liberal-minded and receptive to Hong Kong people’s aspirations. However, his modest efforts earned him Beijing’s wrath. He got called almost unprintable names by Chinese officials.
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Patten’s plan for some elected legislators to continue beyond July 1,1997, i.e., a “through train”, was derailed. Beijing chose a former member of Patten’s executive council, Tung Chee-hwa, as Chief Executive of Hong Kong – as the highest office replacing the British Governor’s came to be called. Tung, a shipping tycoon, was beholden to Beijing which had once bailed him out. From being a British Governor’s cabinet member, he turned into a Beijing appointee.
Initially, there was no difference as regards citizens’ lives. Hong Kong’s judiciary, media and civil society continued to function unhindered. However, within two years, the judiciary got compromised in the Ng Ka Ling v Director of Immigration case, also known as the Right of Abode case of 1999 (in which the Hong Kong government feared that extending the right to mainland-China born children of Hong Kong permanent residents would open the floodgates to immigrants). The government estimated that 1.6 million people would flood in. Tung appealed to Beijing to override the verdict of Hong Kong’s Court of Final Appeal. Beijing obliged. Strangely, Hong Kong now allows 150 mainland Chinese residents to move to the city every day.
In 2003, as the Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) pandemic was raging, Tung introduced a national security law legislation as envisaged in Article 23 of the Basic Law, Hong Kong’s post-1997 mini-Constitution. However, the draconian aspects of that bill led to widespread resistance, drawing more than half a million (by some estimates 650,000) people out of a population then of 6.7 million on to the streets. A pro-government outfit, the Liberal Party, developed cold feet and withdrew its support. The bill fell through.
In 2012, when Hong Kong authorities sought to introduce “national education” – akin to what is being pushed in India now – it met with such popular backlash as to be quickly abandoned.
In 2014, a popular upsurge known as the ‘Umbrella Movement’ (as many activists sported yellow umbrellas) sought to point out that Article 45 of the Basic Law envisaged “universal suffrage” and called for the Chief Executive to be popularly elected. That movement failed, but it spawned a new generation of activists who got going in the 2019 anti-extradition movement when Hong Kong authorities proposed a bill that would have enabled anyone sought by Beijing authorities to be handed over. Spectacular protests ensued: On June 9 that year, two million people out of the city’s 7.5 million population rallied. The bill was withdrawn but Beijing was furious.
On the night of June 30-July 1, 2020, China imposed the National Security Law on Hong Kong, effectively snuffing out the city’s freedoms. Scores of activists, politicians and academics have been jailed and internationally noted publications have shut down, as have human rights NGOs such as Amnesty International, as well as trade unions and political parties.
Previously, Chinese leaders were willing to respect to some extent the promise made to Hong Kong. But China is today ruled by Xi Jinping, who has emerged as the most authoritarian leader since Mao Zedong’s death in 1976. Xi is likely to be crowned leader for life during the five-yearly congress later this year of a rich club that continues to call itself the Communist Party of China, although it has been pursuing ‘market economy’ for decades.
Incidentally, Deng’s ‘one country, two systems’ message was primarily meant for Taiwan, one of the world’s most thriving economies (current population 24 million) and which Beijing deems a province awaiting “reunification”.
A fat lot of good the Hong Kong example does for that quest.
(The writer is a senior journalist who has reported from China and Hong Kong from 1988 to 2006)