Stephanie G. Mathis This article is part of the Democracy Futures series, a joint global initiative with the Sydney Democracy Network. The project aims to stimulate fresh thinking about the many challenges facing democracies in the 21st century.
On the eve of Hong Kong’s return to Chinese sovereignty, Rem Koolhaas, architectural arbiter of 1990s neoliberal decadence, dubbed Hong Kong a quintessential “generic city” celebrated for its political blankness.
Today, this vision is being undone by the furious political winds that have blasted the city since the fall of 2014, when simmering economic and political tensions erupted during the Occupy Central uprising.
Movement co-founder Benny Tai was right: with a finger firmly placed on Hong Kong’s political pulse, he predicted at the time that Beijing’s actions would stir up a new “era of resistance” within the territory.
Constitutional doubts are mounting. Since the handover of the former British colony to China almost 20 years ago, Hong Kong’s status within China’s sovereignty nexus was supposed to have been assured under the “one country, two systems” framework laid out by Deng Xiaoping in Hong Kong’s mini-constitution, the Basic Law. Deng’s vision granted Beijing sovereignty over the territory while allowing the city to retain a high degree of autonomy.
Key public figures in Hong Kong, Chan and Lee, recently toured Australia and New Zealand, where they urged the region to stand by the territory in its fight for democracy.
During their short time in Sydney, they agreed to a sit-down with me at a popular Chinatown restaurant.
Over bowls of soup and pots of jasmine tea, Chan and Lee explained their political visions. They voiced their anxieties about the present state of the territory and its decaying relationship with the Chinese mainland.
Chan and Lee told me that the delicate balance within the “one country, two systems” is now tilting in Beijing’s favor. The swing is partly due, Chan said, to Hong Kong’s “disappointing” economic “levelling down” since 1997, certainly compared to China’s skyrocketing growth into the financial stratosphere. Hong Kong is slowly but surely being absorbed into China’s economic orbit.
“Money talks loudest,” he continued, lamenting that Hong Kong is being tucked snugly in Beijing’s pocket. Lee pointed out that Beijing’s economic calculations are not limited just to Hong Kong. He noted how the hands of China, in its bid for global influence fuelled by a relentless appetite for “money, money, money,” are “spreading to all five continents.” Lee told me that he nevertheless questions the sustainability of the “China model,” especially when it is measured in terms of power.
As our conversation unfolded, it struck me that Lee’s vision of democracy as the twin of capitalism bears more than a passing resemblance to the teleology of Francis Fukuyama’s “end of history.” Why is the model of capitalist democracy necessarily a cure for the world’s ills, and why will it, in the end, reign supreme?
Doesn’t Beijing’s political path defy this logic, I asked? Lee remained adamant.
“If you want capitalism,” he said, “you need the rest, including freedom of speech, the whole thing that comes in the package.”
China’s economic and political power model may prove more resilient and powerful than Lee and Chan think.
Shortly after we met in Sydney, proof of Beijing’s far-reaching economic muscle came during Chan and Lee’s visit to neighboring New Zealand, when their meeting with Deputy Prime Minister Bill English was abruptly canceled, purportedly due to the “diplomatically sensitive” nature of their visit.
Political volatility
During our remaining time together, Chan emphasized that she placed her bets on Deng Xiaoping’s blueprint as the best political path forward for Hong Kong. She said that if Beijing will “get back to one country, two systems [and] allow us to have one man, one vote,” then the formula will demonstrate to China that “the system works,” so safeguarding Hong Kong from future encroachments.
Stress tests of that position are now happening fast. Political schisms in Hong Kong are growing. In recent weeks, even in the normally staid parliament, striking scenes have emerged of fiery pro-independence legislators hurling derogatory slurs and staging contentious protests in the direction of the mainland. The rise of a more controversial strand of politics in the territory highlights the precarious political reality of Hong Kong in light of Beijing’s recent predatory air.
The grim truth is that the territory’s Legislative Council is now teetering on the edge of paralysis and facing a political showdown among its factions. Nothing less than the Legislative Council’s institutional authority hangs in the balance.
Not only that but Hong Kong’s current Chief Executive, CY Leung, is widely scorned as a Beijing stooge. His meek surrender to his sovereign overlords is similarly eroding the authority of the territory’s highest office.
The shadowy presence of Beijing’s Liaison Office looms ever larger over Hong Kong’s independent affairs.
Beijing’s patience with local calls for Hong Kong’s independence also appears to be growing thin. Recently, the Chinese government’s Hong Kong and Macau Affairs Office voiced their open support for the legal punishment of “Hong Kong independence activities.”
