A 13-year journey of transformation
To some of my senior colleagues who covered the secretive 1984 Sino-British talks on Hong Kong, the signing of the Joint Declaration in Beijing in late September put an end to a tough, two-year-long reporting job. But for a freshman like me, newly arrived at the South China Morning Post after graduating from what was then Baptist College, that year's Sino-British deal marked a new era in Hong Kong's history and an opportunity to take a closer look at how history was written and rewritten.
My long history of reporting on Hong Kong politics dates back to the time when the Basic Law, Hong Kong's post-handover mini-constitution, was being drafted.
Months after the 1984 agreement was sealed, Beijing began to prepare the post-handover constitution, naming a group of leading local figures to sit on the Basic Law Drafting Committee. A community-wide exercise began in 1985 to select representatives to a 180-member Basic Law Consultative Committee to give advice on the provisions.
The drafting process, which lasted from July 1985 until April 1990, was anything but uneventful. It encouraged both the Beijing government and Hong Kong society to try to revisit, understand and preserve the formula that had helped to turn what was once just a fishing village into a thriving metropolis. It was also a chance for people from Hong Kong and the mainland and their very different systems and values to interact in real life.
For journalists, it was a fascinating experience to report on how the 160 articles plus three annexes that make up the Basic Law went through different drafts before being enacted and promulgated. The members of the Hong Kong elite named by Beijing to sit on the drafting body got a chance to work with unfamiliar mainland culture and practices.
The confidentiality of draft documents was particularly sensitive. I still remember myself and a journalist from another publication sneaking into the toilet of a Hong Kong drafting committee member's hotel room to read the copy of the draft structure of the Basic Law he had provided. One of us read it out while the other taped it.
Throughout the four years and 10 months of drafting and consultative work, former colleague Stanley Leung and I visited Beijing, Guangzhou and Shenzhen almost every month to cover plenary and sub-group meetings. This provided us with a good opportunity to cultivate contacts with drafters and mainland officials.
In Hong Kong, the parallel consultation process saw sharp differences arise over the pace of democracy. In particular, the pro-democracy and pro-business camps differed over the way the legislature and chief executive were to be elected .
The political landscape in Hong Kong was undergoing seismic change. People with their eyes on key posts after the handover took up key positions in drafting and consultative committees.
It was also a time of events that made history. The student protests in Beijing that culminated with the bloody crackdown in and around Tiananmen Square on June 4, 1989 - the most shocking events of the 13-year transitional period - have become imprinted on the minds of Hong Kong people. Even journalists, striving for impartiality, could hardly stay detached from and indifferent to the moving images the demonstrations generated.
As tension escalated in the capital, compassion and sympathy among Hong Kong people towards the Beijing students became the driving force behind a series of mass protests against the communist leadership. Emotion ran high. At one demonstration, tens of thousands of people endured a deluge at Victoria Park to show their support for the students; their tears mixed with the rainwater.
Hong Kong was never the same after June 4. The city was mired in a deep crisis of confidence, and tens of thousands of people migrated overseas. Pro-democracy politicians won a landslide victory in the maiden direct polls to the Legislative Council in 1991. Awash with cash, Hong Kong embarked on a so-called 'rose garden' plan to bolster economic and political confidence.
As the 1997 handover drew near, Hong Kong became the centre of international media attention. Inside the Post newsroom, the editorial team stepped up preparations for the July 1 coverage.
Come the big moment at midnight on June 30, the Union Jack was lowered, followed by the raising of the five-star national flag inside the grand foyer of the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre. One after another, the new government, led by Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa, were sworn in, marking the beginning of self-administration for the people of Hong Kong.
Dubbed the single most important political story in Hong Kong's history, the birth of the SAR was seen at that time by some as the end of political news in Hong Kong. That was proved to be untrue, except for a short, distinctly apolitical period after the handover.
Following the Asian financial turmoil of 1997 and 1998, the Hong Kong economy took a dive. Unemployment surged. The property market slumped. Deflation worsened. Wage levels dropped. The pre-handover buzz and boom turned doom and gloom. The legitimacy and performance of the Tung leadership were challenged.
On July 1 this year, at least half a million took to the streets to vent their frustrations over the accumulated failures of the government over the previous six years. Politics remains alive and kicking - more so than most people could have envisaged in 1997.
