By Lian Wang ’21 News Reporter
When the British returned Hong Kong to China in 1997, China promised to maintain Hong Kong in a state of semi-autonomy. Earlier this year, Carrie Lam, the Chief Executive of Hong Kong, introduced an extradition bill that would allow fugitives in Hong Kong to be transferred to mainland China for trial under Beijing’s jurisdiction. Students, viewing the bill and its implications as threats to Hong Kong’s autonomy, took to the streets.
I, along with most of Hong Kong, supported the students initially, as I was concerned that the bill would serve as a gateway for tightened Chinese regulations. On June 14, however, when Carrie Lam delayed the bill indefinitely, protestors listed five further demands, including the withdrawal of the bill and investigations into police conduct. As the protests became increasingly violent, popular support began to shift towards protecting the police. While I don’t condone the violence or misguided intentions of some protestors, there are certain nuances to the movement often disregarded by the press and the public.
Beijing, through censorship and propaganda, regulates public opinion. Reactions to the protests in mainland China range from indifference to ardent nationalism. Even my friends in Beijing with access to the unrestricted Internet could not accurately assess the reality of the situation.
Western sources, while typically containing less overt propaganda, are still selective in the events they portray: violence sells papers. Yet the majority of protests were nonviolent. I attended a civil servants’ gathering at Chater Garden, which was more boring than dangerous. I even flew into HKG during the week of airport protests, where I was greeted by protesters passing out flyers in a designated area.
The protests are an expression of pre-existing tensions, both within Hong Kong and between Hong Kong and Beijing. The high cost of living, for instance, was a deciding factor for the young demographic of protestors. Hong Kong tops the world, ranking as the most expensive city in which to buy land. The median salary per month per household, around $3,827, is on average only enough to rent less than three square meters of property. The government distributes a limited number of funded housing units, though much of the land is owned privately by wealthy families, who earned and maintain their fortune through real estate. This impasse is a source of despair for younger generations, who cannot afford to live in Hong Kong and see dimming socioeconomic hopes.
This unique identity, moreover, is a fundamental of the movement that is often misunderstood. Isn’t Hong Kong a part of China anyway? Yes—legally; the respective cultures of Hong Kong and China overlap but do not merge. I’ve lived most of my life split between Hong Kong and mainland China, and the two could be mistaken for separate countries. Despite my Hong Kong residency, I only speak Mandarin, which brands me as a mainland tourist to the locals. On the flipside, most Hong Kongers grow up speaking Cantonese and are not taught Mandarin at school—they can hardly be expected to identify with a country whose language they cannot speak. After a century of British control of Hong Kong, China and Hong Kong have walked historically divergent paths. Hong Kong did not share the revolutions and struggles that shaped modern Chinese society and values. Some permanent residents of Hong Kong still hold British National (overseas) passports, not Chinese ones. Thus, those who urge for the integration of Hong Kong do not understand its people.
On September 4, Carrie Lam formally withdrew the extradition bill. But the protests continued, with few signs of diminished vigor. The consequences of this movement are uncertain but likely significant. Beijing has already intervened, threatening increased Chinese regulation. Tourism has plunged; the 2019 GDP forecast has lowered; the city is on the brink of a recession. Nonetheless, I want to caution against condemnation of the protests that is unfounded, misleading, and oversimplified.