In Celebration of Benny Tai, Gwyneth Ho & a Fallen Hong Kong

Hong Kong Apostasy

義人得生
惡人必亡

 

The quelling of the Umbrella Movement in 2014 marked the beginning of the end of Hong Kong’s unique place in the Chinese world. Ten years later, on 19 November 2024, that process reached its inevitable denouement.

Forty-five former politicians and activists who had organized or taken part in the 2020 primary by the opposition camp were sentenced by a Hong Kong court to prison, including for as long as 10 years.

The sentences were the final step in a crackdown that cut the heart out of the city’s democracy movement, turning its leaders into a generation of political prisoners. Among them were veteran politicians, former journalists and younger activists who had called for self-determination for Hong Kong.

Tiffany May, Dozens of Hong Kong Pro-Democracy Leaders Sentenced in Mass Trial, The New York Times, 18 November 2024

We mark the sentencing of the Hong Kong Forty-five on 19 November 2024 by reproducing an old essay by Benny Tai Yiu-ting (戴耀廷, 1964-), a legal scholar and opposition strategist who was jailed for ten years on the spurious charge of fomenting revolution. ‘Mr. Tai … had long been involved in efforts to persuade China to live up to a promise that has been central to Hong Kong since its 1997 return to Chinese control: that its residents would someday get to choose their own leaders. In 2014, he was one of the leaders of the Occupy Central movement that brought the city’s central business district to a halt in a peaceful call for freer elections.’

Gwyneth Ho Kwai-lam (何桂藍, 1990-), a former journalist who was sentenced to seven years, had a statement posted on her Facebook account. It summed up the grim reality:

Our true crime for Beijing is that we were not content with playing along in manipulated elections. We dared to confront the regime with the question: will democracy ever be possible within such a structure? The answer was a complete crackdown on all fronts of society.

For the full text of Gwyneth Ho’s Facebook post, see below.

***

Our humble bellies have ingested a surfeit of treachery,
eaten their fill of history, wolfed down legends —
and still the banquet goes on, leaving
an unfilled void in an ever-changing structure.

On 1 July 2017, China Heritage marked the twentieth anniversary of mainland China extending suzerainty over Hong Kong with a series of translations, commentaries and art works. We began by quoting ‘Cauldron’ 鼎 dǐng, a poem by the celebrated Hong Kong writer P.K. Leung (梁秉钧, 1949-2013), from which the lines above are taken.

Written a year prior to the 1997 takeover, ‘Cauldron’ was a meditation on the return of P.K.’s home town to the embrace of China. This was followed by the menu of the welcome banquet held for China’s party-state leader, Xi Jinping, on 30 June 2017, the day prior to the formal celebration and fireworks on the 1st of July. That day marked the beginning of the end of the Beijing’s subjugation of the former British colony.

At the time we still celebrated Hong Kong under the rubric of The Best China. Soon, we were recording what we would call the Hong Kong Apostasy — the popular rebellion of 2019 that flared up for a moment before the lights of the territory were snuffed out by the imposition of the National Security Law in 2020.

From the early 1980s people familiar with the actual behaviour of the Communists, like Lee Yee 李怡 and Ni Kuang 倪匡, both of whom feature in Hong Kong Apostasy, repeatedly warned about Beijing’s duplicitous record. A constant point of reference was Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai, a leader who set the hypocritical standard for Beijing in the 1950s. Later, Zhou drew on the hoary authority of The Analects of Confucius famously declaring that ‘words must be sincere, actions must be yield results’ 言必信 行必果. It is a statement with a very different resonance today.

[Note: Simon Leys translates the line 言必信,行必果 — 《論語·子路》— as ‘His word can be trusted; whatever he undertakes, he brings to completion.’ For more on the artful duplicity of Zhou Enlai, see Han Suyin and Two-faced People, part of chapter fourteen of Xi Jinping’s Empire of Tedium.]

These 47 Former People in Hong Kong, along with Jimmy Lai, the jailed publisher of Apple Daily, join the host of Former People on Mainland China.

[Note: On China’s Former People, see On and On the Great River Rolls.]

— Geremie R. Barmé
Editor, China Heritage
19 November 2024

***

Also in Hong Kong Apostasy


Hendrick Chi Hang Lui 呂智恆 was sentenced to four years three months in jail. His mother, Elsa Wu, protested outside the courthouse with a sign that read ‘The righteous shall live; the wicked shall perish’ 義人得生,惡人必亡, which drew on The Book of Psalms in The Bible. She was whisked away by police.

***

Hong Kong Isn’t What It Was

Benny Tai

HONG KONG — For years, this city was neither genuinely democratic nor entirely authoritarian. Its politics had both democratic and authoritarian elements, though on balance those were more democratic than authoritarian. Hong Kong’s “one country, two systems” arrangement with the Chinese government in Beijing afforded it a high degree of autonomy. The territory was able to maintain the rule of law by constraining the local government’s powers and protecting citizens’ fundamental rights.

Not anymore. In the aftermath of the Umbrella Movement in late 2014, a series of protests and an occupation that paralyzed major Hong Kong streets for 79 days, the Chinese Communist Party (C.C.P.) has adjusted its approach. The Chinese government in Beijing has increasingly cracked down on Hong Kong politically, while steadily integrating the city’s economy into the mainland’s.

Hong Kong is now linked by high-speed train to mainland China, and a new mega-bridge connects the city with the Pearl River Delta. But the glossy surface of greater economic ties cannot mask dark sociopolitical realities. Through many agents in both the public sector and civil society here, the C.C.P. is using a combination of coercion and economic might, as well intimidation, deception and confusion to weaken remaining forms of dissent. Having placed a lackey at the head of the Hong Kong executive branch and muffled pro-democracy voices in the local legislature, known as LegCo, its principal targets today are what is left of the political opposition, civil society and the independent judicial system.

Hong Kong’s fundamental laws, called the Basic Law, are subject to the final interpretation of the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress in Beijing. Resort to that power, after long being treated as an exception, has been normalized in recent times, in an effort to provide a semblance of constitutional backing — seasoned with arbitrary meanings — for the Chinese government’s repressive measures.

In 2016, for example, legislators from various factions of the pro-democracy camp were removed from LegCo on the basis of a Standing Committee interpretation of a Basic Law provision about the oath of office. That reading has also been used to disqualify candidates to the legislature simply for holding political opinions that displease the government in Beijing. Candidates supporting the independence of Hong Kong were the first to be barred; then it was people advocating self-determination for the city.

After the removal of a half-dozen legislators from the pro-democracy camp, the pro-Beijing faction in LegCo has come to control a special majority — and has used it to amend LegCo’s rules of procedure. As a result, the opposition can no longer filibuster to challenge controversial decisions by the government.

The practice of barring unwelcome persons from running for office continues. The latest example concerns Lau Siu-lai, a member of the Labour Party and a democracy advocate. Ms. Lau was elected to LegCo in 2016, only to be removed the following year for the irregular way in which she had first read her oath of office (namely, very, very slowly). A by-election for her vacated seat is to be held in late November. Ms. Lau had announced that she would run again, but last month the electoral authorities disqualified her, without bothering to hear from her. They argued that comments she made in 2016 supporting “democratic self-determination” were evidence that she contests China’s sovereignty over Hong Kong.

The onslaught against free speech extends beyond candidates for political office — and doesn’t seem to require making any offending statement at all.

In September, the city’s secretary for security repurposed a law aimed at combating organized crime syndicates to ban the pro-independence Hong Kong National Party, claiming that the party’s activities were a threat to national security. The ban was then invoked to punish people who had given the party a platform to express its views.

In July, weeks before the Hong Kong National Party was outlawed, the Foreign Correspondents’ Club organized a panel discussion with the party’s founder. Victor Mallet, the F.C.C. vice-president who moderated the discussion and a British national, has since been barred from returning to Hong Kong. Immigration services first refused, without explanation, to renew his work visa; he was then denied entry even as a tourist.

Beijing’s political red lines here keep shifting — but always in the direction of more repression.

No longer facing any significant opposition in LegCo, the government is likely to soon propose new authoritarian laws. The most significant would be national security measures to implement Article 23 of the Basic Law, which provides that Hong Kong must prohibit any act of treason, secession, sedition or subversion against the Chinese government. Mere speeches supporting the independence of Hong Kong or self-determination could fall under those measures.

Prosecutorial power is already being used to deter people from organizing any form of civil disobedience. Eight other leaders of the Umbrella Movement and I will be on trial starting Monday simply for organizing and leading protests that called for respecting the Hong Kong people’s existing democratic rights. We are charged with vague common law offenses: conspiring to cause a public nuisance, as well as inciting others to cause a public nuisance and inciting others to incite others to cause a public nuisance. We face seven years in prison, a far more severe sentence than more modern laws provide.

Not many people, inside or outside Hong Kong, seem to notice these changes or to take them seriously enough. Perhaps it’s because the deterioration is incremental and individual measures of repression are disguised as legal rules or sugarcoated in economic benefits. Yet Hong Kong no longer is what it was, nor what it is supposed to be.

But it isn’t dead either. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was right to say, “Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.” Many people in Hong Kong continue to strive for democracy and to nonviolently resist Beijing’s creeping crackdown. We may not be able to stop the advance of authoritarianism. But we must do what we can at least to slow it down.

***

Source:


Gwyneth Ho’s Statement

1. I first read about Maria Kolesnikova before I was taken to punishment—tales of how she ripped her passport apart at the border to refuse deportation, choosing jail over exile, along with trivial accounts of solitary prison life. How, as a professional flutist, she filled her head with imaginary flute music. How she kept on writing letters despite 80% of them being confiscated.
2. The protest in Belarus during 2020-21 was the last movement I followed real-time, before my own imprisonment. It went viral in this part of the world as protesters adopted the Be Water tactic of the 2019 Hong Kong Movement. A few years on, a Belarusian political prisoner’s timely advice passed on all the way from her prison in Belarus to mine in Hong Kong in ChatGPT-translated English.
3. How curious. Today, we enjoy multiple advanced communication platforms, yet people are more polarized than ever. Genuine and honest conversations have become more difficult, rendering democracy less and less convincing as the better system in the face of multiplying crises. But, now living in a world of only pen and paper, with heavy scrutiny and severe delays spanning weeks—I relearn, time and again, that genuine human connection is possible and why it is worth fighting for.

***

4. The Hong Kong democratic movement of 2019 is renowned for its impressive arsenal of tactics, combined with the creative use of technological platforms. These tactics travelled across social media, were transplanted into other movements, and bloomed anew. But what holds people together and makes all the creativity possible lies beyond technology or tactics. The movement itself is open to interpretations (and criticisms), yet what has stayed with me to this day, nearly four years later, is something simpler.
5. People are engaged. They are eager to connect with each other. Injustice and oppression, once witnessed, together with bravery and determination, once felt, bred an unstoppable urge to express oneself politically and to be part of the struggle; but it didn’t turn into a homogenizing essentialism. Learning from the failures of past movements, people made extra efforts to communicate and incorporate diverse ideas. We did not avoid lengthy, difficult conversations, even amid imminent violence, with rubber bullets flying over our heads. We were adamantly leaderless, each taking our own initiatives and emphasizing individual and equal contributions to the movement. We remained vigilant against disinformation, careful not to let rumours tear the movement apart from within.
6. Decentralization unleashed a political momentum unseen in Hong Kong and revealed the city’s exciting diversity, which had previously been constrained by traditional organizational structures. Accustomed to critical and intense political debate, people in Hong Kong only needed to overcome their hesitation about whether their actions mattered to emerge as their own initiators of creative new ways of struggle. They reformed connections into more direct, efficient, and inclusive networks of activism.
7. When social institutions crumbled one after another around us, we rose above fear and emerged as a genuine civil society, each living out the true meaning of citizenship. Though democracy was denied at various institutional levels, we built one from the bottom up.
8. Meaningful conversations are only possible when you have faith that people around you, and yourself, are not blind followers of someone else, that they are clear of what they are fighting for and take responsibility for their needs. Independent in their decisions but acting for the collective.
9. It’s not so much hope for a better future that drives the movement, because hope has always been scarce when you’re a city of 7 million facing a superpower, but that even if our vision of the future is different, we trust each other, we can rely on each other to do our best. We trust, we act, we can create. All become one, united in our differences.
10. It was only natural that such a collective would demand to be heard and recognized in a way that the regime had to respond to. When the regime closed in and took away the people’s right to protest, we turned to the alternative path of elections.

***

11. I ran in the last free and fair election in Hong Kong. For that, I was prosecuted in the first Soviet(?)/CCP-style subversion case tried in a common law court. I pleaded not guilty to defend the political expression of 610,000 Hong Kong people, which the regime is trying to distort and reduce into a conspiracy of 47 foreign-brainwashed, faithless pawns, with life imprisonment on the table.
12. The situation is dire, yet when going into the details, it becomes a bit comical: the unforgivably evil subversive act of the accused was aiming for a parliamentary majority with the power to veto the annual budget. Following such logic, one may as well claim that democracies around the world suffer subversion attempts every 4 to 6 years. In a 1984-esque reality, though, democratization—or just calling for it—amounts to subversion of state power. Makes perfect sense.
13. Behind the rhetoric of secession, collusion with foreign forces, etc., our true crime for Beijing is that we were not content with playing along in manipulated elections. We organized ourselves to rise above partisan fragmentation, came together, and attempted to break through. We dared to reach for actual power to hold the government accountable. Even though it was enshrined as a right of the people under the Basic Law, Beijing never planned to see it actualized.
14. We dared to confront the regime with the question: will democracy ever be possible within such a structure? The answer was a complete crackdown on all fronts of society.
15. Prosecuting democratic politicians and activists across the spectrum, the case was seen as the turning point at which Hong Kong became a lost cause. People were scared into silence and forced to give up hope for democracy in Hong Kong.
16. Sitting in the dock, I went through the historical trials I had read about in my mind. Decades on, defiant and dignified defences seemed like natural building blocks of ultimate victory. But back in the moment, when the regime’s rule seemed infallible and change was nowhere in sight, why does one still choose to fight despite certain conviction?
17. The narrative put forward by the prosecution is not just a distortion of facts or a threat to the larger public. It goes much deeper—they are forcing the accused into self-denial of their lived experiences. That genuine solidarity was just a delusion. That the bonds, the togetherness, the honest conversations among people so different yet so connected, cannot be real after all. That the difficult co-building of a collective united in difference with a shared vision for a better future was just a utopian dream.
18. But no. They are not just idealistic dreams but realities that I have lived through. I choose to fight to prove that such connections are not only possible but have actually been lived out and continue to live on. The only delusion here is the belief that brutal oppression can ever deny their existence.
19. It is not a responsibility nor moral obligation. It is the strong urge within me to do justice to what I witnessed and experienced, for they constitute part of me and define who I was. And I am now going to define who I am.

***

20. I stand alone confronting these accusations, not as an individual, but as one of all those who have ever stood in the streets and raised their voices to demand autonomy for the city. As well as all those who have ever stood in the same position before unjust courts anywhere in the world.
21. I travelled far through words, from contemporary Russia, mainland China, Thailand, to 20th century Chicago, Taiwan, Pretoria. I met Navalny countless times, whose cases filed with the ECtHR are now open for all politically accused around the world to cite in their own legal battles. I learned from the Pussy Riot trial how to use the power of your opponents against you: when speech and beliefs are used as evidence against them; when speech and beliefs are used as evidence against you, you are also granted legal permission to elaborate on them, as extensively as you see fit.
22. And in this particular case, who else has more to offer than the human rights defenders in mainland China? Every final statement and paper about their decades of struggle, the legitimacy of the Chinese constitution, and the power of the people.
23. None of us have won our cases. Many I read about are still serving harsh sentences in unknown places, unheard and forgotten. Most of them would never have the chance to know how much they inspired me – the only way I could honour them was to fight the best fight I could. And so I did.
24. I was sent to solitary confinement for refuting the false testimony of a prosecution witness from the dock. Just before that I had read about Maria Kolesnikova. Her case was in closed court, but the lawyers risked their qualifications to reveal that on the day of the verdict, Kolesnikova made her final statement, a little less than 3 hours, about “moral choice, about love for people, about the future of Belarus.
25. I tried to imagine making a speech only among people who were complicit in depriving you of your freedom, looking at their apathetic (if not mocking) faces. I can’t. And yet she did. She poured her heart out in a speech she knew no one would hear a word of.
26. She was violently muted, but the reverberation! It went all the way across the Eurasian continent, breaking through closed courts and reporting bans, fenced walls and censorship to reach me at the time I needed it most. I felt close to her, even though I may never meet her. I can feel her dearly.
27. It’s that feeling again. Like looking through a cloudy gas mask into the determined eyes of a complete stranger, or walking alongside another in thick, irritating smog toward the light. I have come so far in search of it. The human connection that would only come through shared acts of courage, between individuals who dare to follow their true selves. For to dare is to lose one’s ground momentarily, yes, but not to dare, is to lose oneself.

***

28. Today, no democracy is immune to the crisis of legitimacy that results from a deficit of public trust. Calls for the “orderly” and “efficient” rule of authoritarianism are growing inexorably. News of fruitless movements and the continued plight of persecuted freedom fighters in distant, hopeless places is certainly discouraging.
29. But you can certainly help a lot. Defend and repair your own democracy. Push back against the corruption of power, restore faith in democratic values through action. Give authoritarian dictators one less example of failed democracy to justify their rule, and give freedom fighters around the world one more inspiration to continue the struggle with better alternatives. Fight on the ground most familiar and dear to you. Prove to the world at every possible moment, no matter how small, that democracy is worth fighting for.
30. For while suffering may evoke concern and compassion, it also blurs and reduces the sufferer to a pitiful but characterless victim, part of a nameless number. What really defines our identity is not the suffering itself, but the way in which we face it. It is in action that one defines oneself, and only people who truly know who they are can open up, make new connections in the most unexpected circumstances, and bring about change. It is for the wonders of human diversity, creativity and possibility, for a world in which we can connect as our own true selves, that we dare to act, and we dare to suffer.

***

31. 依幾年一直有個矛盾︰好多人,包括曾經關係深嘅人, 極少鼓勵我。加油?加油做啲令自己坐更耐嘅事咩唔通?但當有人畀到力量我,令我見到人嘅存在最極致嘅美感,唯有喺掙扎之中方得展現,如果我帶住份力量去做得越好,只會喺物理同時間上離佢哋越遠。但若我因為怕別離而放棄,喺不再掙扎嘅一刻,我就感應唔返呢份超然於希望或絕望之上嘅生命力。
32. 一直陪我嘅人,我唔敢想像佢哋嘅心理負擔,但佢哋冇為咗自己良心舒服要我否定自己;亦冇為逃避思考、判斷或自己,連我都直接避埋。因為佢哋知道咁唔係死,而係創造,係自我完成。愛唔只係牽絆同責任,仲係成就同解放;唔係幫你逃避現實殘酷,而係畀你面對殘酷嘅勇氣。
33. 痛苦其實好難,甚至冇可能分擔,真正可以穿透牆內外嘅,係意志。苦難令「我哋」出現,但無法令「我哋」成長;以苦難嚟維繫嘅共同體,只能喺苦難中無限輪迴——定義身份嘅唔係苦難,而係我哋究竟點樣面對佢。如果今日局面係香港無可迴避嘅命運,至少喺2019年,我哋選擇咗面對,選擇唔再留喺虛擬自由新手村,將問題再推畀下一代。
34. 民主自由從來唔包歲月靜好︰真正嘅民主係眾聲喧嘩好L嘈(香港人應該最清楚),而自由就係好好選擇要諗要揀要承擔;如果只係義憤、支持人、幫人、為道德為責任,而唔去諗其實你自己本身想點,係好難感受到自由。
35. 自由就係感到「原來我可以」嘅時刻。
36. 係,會遇到好多限制同阻力,但正正係喺同現實碰撞先會知自己咩料,透過反覆嘅自我懷疑,先會淬煉出真正嘅執著。
37. 歷史唔係由贏者書寫,而係自由有意志嘅人書寫。城市嘅軀殼唔會消失,舊靈魂已死,而新性命誕生就必然係痛;香港嘅好不在井然安定,而在過火癲狂,無孔不入嘅規訓同壓抑下竟然滋生出咁蓬勃嘅多元,要你規行矩步,同時又逼你不斷越界;冇人可以定義「香港係咩」,但人人都可以拓闊「香港可以係咩」。
38. 我嘅選擇同行動就係我對「香港可以係咩」嘅回答,學到嘢嘅快樂,喺不可能下仍然同人sync到嘅幸福,係最大嘅收穫。如果可以繼續成長,希望可以更加游刃有餘。
39. 而家嘅我手空無一物,只剩鑽研過嘅知識、見證過嘅勇氣、投入過嘅熱情,尤幸好奇依舊,志氣清澈。由衷希望你都有勇氣面對自己、繼而打開自己,體驗世界,感應他人,唔再停喺「思想自由」嘅幻覺之中。你要喺現世自由。

香港可以係咩?期望見到更多不同答案。

***

耀 yào, ‘to illuminate, glory’, in the hand of Zhu Yunming (祝允明, 1460-1526)