It’s time to stand up for Hong Kong, even if belatedly

Twenty-six years ago, on July 1, 1997, Hong Kong was handed over to China. Three years ago, on that day, whatever was left of Hong Kong’s freedoms, autonomy, rule of law, human rights and basic way of life, died.

Tomorrow is not a celebration by any means. It is a day of mourning. A day to listen to the sound of broken promises, and of nails hammered into the coffin of one of Asia’s most open cities and one of the world’s most significant trading ports and financial centers.

It is a day to think about those who, until just a few years ago, protested, published and politicked freely and today are in prison, exile or silence.

But it is also a day not to surrender to despair but to renew our efforts. Those of us who have freedom must ensure that the struggle continues, that the spotlight continues to shine, and that the flame of hope for Hong Kong is carried on behalf of those no longer able to.

When I moved to Hong Kong in September 1997, just over two months after the handover, I found a city that was thriving, dynamic and optimistic. Despite understandable concerns about the transition from British colonial rule to Chinese sovereignty under a Communist Party dictatorship, the early years suggested reasons for hope.

In the five years in which I lived in Hong Kong — the first five years since the handover — Beijing behaved with surprising restraint, and appeared largely to keep its promises to protect “one country, two systems.”

"No dictatorship could have wished for a more moderate, reasonable, peaceful, decent, and respectful opposition movement"

Working as a journalist, I was able to write articles then that would never be published today. I could publish articles that would land me in prison today.

Yes, I saw some early warning signs of self-censorship and creeping, subtle repression — which I describe in my new book, The China Nexus — but overall I felt “one country, two systems” was working. When corruption, censorship or repression was found, it was exposed and held accountable. The possibility to challenge Beijing and its quislings existed and was exercised.

Hong Kong was never, despite the last Governor Lord Chris Patten’s best efforts, a full democracy, but it was an open society, with freedom of expression, assembly and association intact, and with a thriving media freedom, civil society and ability to organize peaceful protests.

That Hong Kong has now completely gone. The first warning sign for me — perhaps there were earlier signs I missed — was the police crackdown on the Umbrella Movement in 2014.

I recall witnessing from London the scenes of young, disciplined students sitting in their tents doing their homework by day, protesting peacefully with song and courage by night and clearing up the litter by dawn.

No dictatorship could have wished for a more moderate, reasonable, peaceful, decent, and respectful opposition movement.

Yet instead of responding to the aspirations of Hong Kong’s youth, the police fired teargas and unleashed their handcuffs, smashing the demands of Hong Kongers for the universal suffrage that Hong Kong’s own mini-constitution, the Basic Law, had promised.

Since then, the demolition of Hong Kong’s freedoms spiraled into ever-increasing darkness.

In response to the Umbrella Movement and its aftermath, I decided I had to speak out. As someone who had begun my career in Hong Kong, and having devoted my life to human rights, how could I stay silent when the city that had given me such opportunities as a beginner journalist was facing such repression?

So initially I spoke out in a personal capacity — by writing op-eds, talking to British parliamentarians, hosting visiting Hong Kong activists — all in my spare time.

"A simple message from me could put someone in danger in Hong Kong today"

By 2017, as prominent young activists like Joshua Wong, Nathan Law and Alex Chow were jailed, I knew I had to do more. I campaigned for them, but I realized I could not do this on my own anymore. I needed an organization and a team.

I came together with others, to establish Hong Kong Watch — the first international human rights advocacy organization focused on Hong Kong.

Over the past five years, we have become truly global — with a team of ten employees in the UK and Canada, we have made an impact in advocacy and policy terms across Westminster, Washington, DC, Brussels, Berlin, Paris, Ottawa, Canberra, other capitals and in the United Nations.

In the past three years our work has become so much harder — and ever more important.

Before the imposition of the draconian National Security Law in Hong Kong by Beijing — with no discussion, no debate, no accountability, and very little notice — I was in almost daily contact with multiple friends and contacts in Hong Kong.

As a result of this brutal law — which criminalizes “collusion” with foreign actors — I have ceased or been forced to cut, almost all contact. Most of my friends in Hong Kong are now in jail; those who aren’t have gone into exile; and those who are neither in jail nor in exile are understandably keeping a low profile.

A simple message from me could put someone in danger in Hong Kong today — and so I dare not do it, as I don’t want to land someone in danger.

As Johannes Chan puts it in an excellent article recently, since the imposition of the National Security Law “someone has been arrested on average every 4.2 days.”

At least 251 people have been arrested for national security offenses in the past three years. That isn’t simply protesters. It includes legislators, journalists, students, academics and civil society activists.

As Chan notes, nearly four out of five of those charged under this law are denied bail, and some have spent more than two years in detention awaiting trial. The conviction rate is 100 percent.

"Life has been transformed from an open society to an Orwellian surveillance state"

The recent arrest of a Hong Kong student who returned home from Japan tells it all. That student was not an activist — she had merely written some social media posts while studying in Japan.

In my own case, I was denied entry to Hong Kong in 2017 on Beijing’s orders and threatened with jail under the National Security Law last year. While I don’t have family in Hong Kong and have no intention of returning to the city which I love but from which I am banned, for those who have loved ones whom they might wish to visit, these judgments are chilling.

And for the more than 60 civil society organizations shut down, life has been transformed from an open society to an Orwellian surveillance state. For those who love reading, life has gone from free access to books in public libraries and bookstores to book removals and book bans, if not yet book burnings. For those who used to contest or campaign for the Legislative Council or the district council seats freely, now any decent freedom-loving person with a conscience is automatically excluded from contesting, and most seats will now be appointed by Beijing anyway.

The regime in Beijing, as terrified as it is by the difference of opinion, is now so paranoid that it has further rigged an already pre-rigged system — to sew up and tie up in knots all seats to ensure it not only gets its way but does not have the embarrassment of any semblance of dissent.

Those it has not locked up, beaten up, sewn up, bought out, or driven out, Beijing has silenced by the threat of such actions. It has ripped up an international treaty, torn up its promises to Hong Kong, destroyed an international open city, driven hundreds of thousands into exile and shown the world its true character on full display.

So on this anniversary, let’s not just wring our hands and mourn. Let’s learn lessons from this and act. Let’s recalibrate our relationship with this mendacious regime that cannot tell the truth, let’s reconsider our relationship with this brutal regime that cannot treat human beings decently, and let’s reconstitute our approach from one that kowtows and compromises to one that stands up for what is true, right and just.

Let’s now, even if belatedly, stand up for Hong Kong.

That means imposing targeted sanctions on Beijing for what it has done to Hong Kong. It means expanding lifeboat schemes to make it easier for Hong Kongers who need and want to flee to do so. And it means learning the lessons of the past: that no treaty signed by Beijing is ever worth the paper it is written on or could ever be trusted again.

If we learn those lessons today, we go some way to appropriately commemorate this tragic anniversary.

*The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.