Blame Hong Kong's inept officials for blackening police's name
Stephen Vines says society will suffer for the politicisation of the force
One of the most damaging legacies of the "umbrella movement" has been the determination of the Leung Chun-ying administration to politicise the police force. Even now, Leung continues to insist that the fundamental political and social issues that galvanised this movement should be viewed solely through the prism of being a law-and-order problem.
As a consequence, the police force has been used as the government's battering ram, placing its officers on the front line of the political reform debate, in place of the administration's leaders who lack the courage to stand there.
Worse, in many ways, have been the attempts by the wider anti-democrat movement to hijack the police force for their own political ends, as they seek to portray the police as stalwarts of their camp.
Unsurprisingly, this has taken its toll on public perceptions of the force. A recent opinion poll showed a sharp drop in its popularity, leaving the force trailing the People's Liberation Army garrison.
My personal experience of nearly all encounters with the police left me with a strong sense of both their professionalism and commitment to duty. Yet, even someone like me, who is loath to become a police critic, is now having doubts.
It is almost certainly no coincidence that Hong Kong's present police commissioner is arguably the most political chief ever to lead the force. Andy Tsang Wai-hung is also a highly controversial figure within the force, having done little to win the confidence of his frontline officers. However, he is highly prized in both Beijing and among Leung's clique of officials.
They appear not to have noticed Tsang's almost total disappearance from the public eye during the protests, only emerging for a press briefing once the last protest site was cleared. No wonder officers raise questions about his leadership from the rear.
But there are bigger questions about his readiness to have the force used as a political tool. When he did finally emerge, he was quick to emphasise that the police would now be spending their time trying to uncover the "instigators" of the protests.
I rather suspect this will not involve a visit to Upper Albert Road, the residence of the chief executive, who bears more responsibility than any other individual for these events.
On the contrary, Tsang wants the police to act on the basis of a conspiracy theory, with a narrative suggesting a lack of spontaneity in these protests and the presence of black hands (foreign, if at all possible) directing these events.
None of this is to suggest that the police should be removed from public order duties; this is clearly absurd. However, there are valid questions to be asked about the way the police acted, obviously including allegations of assault, but more widely looking at whether their deployment aggravated the protests.
Memories are short but police veterans will tell you how the force, under the far more inspiring leadership of Dick Lee Ming-kwai, is remembered for the highly adroit way it policed the 2005 World Trade Organisation conference, which saw protests by Korean farmers with a reputation for violence. Even the protesters left Hong Kong marvelling at the way Lee handled things.
Today's protesters have not been offering similar plaudits for Tsang, even though many of the frontline officers they met on the streets earned respect from demonstrators.
This, unfortunately, does not diminish the wider impression that the force has somehow become the main means of tackling what should be a political problem. If this process of politicisation continues, another much cherished aspect of Hong Kong life will have been undermined.
