Hong Kong’s democracy lights have been snuffed out
We should not forget the people who made it their life’s work to achieve democracy only to be jailed
The demise of Hong Kong’s League of Social Democrats is the latest blow to the city’s crumbling democratic credentials. It is the third major opposition party to disband this year and coincided with the fifth anniversary this week of the national security law.
Beijing imposed the legislation to suppress pro-democracy activity. The loss of this grassroots party, historically populated by bold and colorful characters, vividly illustrates the dying of the light in once-sparkling Hong Kong.
The city is now grayed under a repressive internal security regime that has crushed civil society’s freedoms and democratic ambitions.
Yet in 2014, Hong Kong was at its brightest during the Umbrella Movement. Hundreds of thousands of pro-democracy protesters camped out on city streets for months. We also saw the brutal sequel in 2019, when police put down civil unrest and protesters fought back.
Since then, “lawfare” has been the strategy of China’s government and its Hong Kong satellite. The new approach has included a vast security apparatus and aggressive prosecutions.
Security law
When Beijing intervened in 2020, it was nominally about national security. In reality, the new law was designed and used to bring Hongkongers to heel. Civil freedoms were further curtailed by a home-grown security law, introduced last year to fill the gaps.
International standards such as the Johannesburg Principles, endorsed by the United Nations, require national security laws to be compatible with democratic principles, not to be used to eliminate democratic activity.
The League of Social Democrats occupied the populist left of the pro-democracy spectrum. It stood apart from contemporaries such as the Democratic Party and the Civic Party, which were dominated by professionals and elites, and have since been disbanded.
The League was most notably represented by the likes of “Long Hair” Leung Kwok-hung, who was known for his Che Guevara T-shirts and banana-throwing, and broadcaster and journalism academic Raymond Wong Yuk-man, also known as “Mad Dog.”
Despite their rambunctious styles, these men had real political credentials and were repeatedly elected to legislative office. But Leung is now imprisoned for subversion, while Wong has left for Taiwan.
Party leaders such as Jimmy Sham Tsz-kit and Figo Chan Ho-wun were also prominent within the Civil Human Rights Front. It was responsible for the annual July 1 protest march that attracted hundreds of thousands of people every year.
The front is yet another pro-democracy organization that has dissolved. Sham and Chan have been jailed for subversion and unlawful assembly under the colonial-era Public Order Ordinance, which has been used to prosecute hundreds of activists.
The demise of these groups are not natural occurrences, but the result of an authoritarian program. Under China, Hong Kong’s political system has been half democratic at best.
But it now resembles something from the darkest days of colonialism, with pre-approved candidates, appointed legislators and zero tolerance for critical voices.
The effort to eliminate opposition has seen the pro-independence National Party formally banned and scores of pro-democracy figures jailed after mass trials. Activists and watchdogs are stymied by the national security law.
Arrest warrants
It criminalizes – among other things – engagement and lobbying with international organizations and foreign governments.
Distinctive voices such as law professor Benny Tai Yiu-ting, media mogul Jimmy Lai Chee-ying and firebrand politician Edward Leung Tin-kei have been jailed and silenced, as have many moderates and lesser-known figures.
Then there are the millions of ordinary Hongkongers whose dreams of a liberal and self-governing region under mainland China’s umbrella – as promised in the lead up to the 1997 handover – have been shattered.
Some activists have fled overseas. The more outspoken are the subjects of Hong Kong arrest warrants.
But countless ex-protesters remain in the city, where it is impermissible to speak critically of power, and where mandatory patriotic education may ensure new generations will never even think to speak up.
Much of the blame lies with the British, who failed to institute democratic elections until the last gasp of their rule in Hong Kong. This was despite the colony tolerating liberalism and habit-forming democratic activity over a longer period.
Now China, after almost three decades in charge, has responded to democratic challenges by defaulting to authoritarian control.
Hong Kong can only be grateful it has been spared a Tiananmen-style incident. Nor has it experienced the full genocidal extent of the so-called “peripheries playbook” Beijing has used in Tibet and Xinjiang.
Belligerent regimes
Turmoil and authoritarian swings in the United States and elsewhere give China an opportunity to appear as a voice of reason on the international stage. But we should not forget its commitment to repressive politics at home.
Nor should we forget its support of belligerent regimes such as Putin’s Russia or its threats to Taiwan, the region and the world.
Above all, we should not forget the people, in Hong Kong and elsewhere, who made it their life’s work to achieve democracy only to be rewarded with prison or exile.
Brendan Clift is a Lecturer in Law & Justice at the UNSW Sydney.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy of China Factor.