Career in politics? Get real
In the spring of 1989, as the government of Japan's prime minister, Nobuo Takeshita, was crumbling, I had a series of extraordinary interviews with some of its most senior politicians. At least I thought that they were extraordinary. My news assistant, Tamaki Uchida, felt otherwise.
As we headed to Nagatacho, Tokyo's parliamentary district, Ms Uchida's mood would grow progressively foul. Finally, I asked what was wrong. Japanese regarded their politicians on the same level as yakuza, or gangsters, and investment bankers. Popular magazines frequently carried paparazzi shots of the heads of the major political parties, crime syndicates and securities firms playing golf or at banquets. It offended her to spend time with them, even in the line of duty.
Heralded during the cold war years for its democratic values, by the end of the 1990s, the Japanese political system had lost all credibility. When the nation desperately needed new policies and new ideas, its politicians had none to offer.
Are Hong Kong's politics heading in the same direction? One of the key questions is the capacity of its political parties to develop alternatives to government policy and to each other's platforms. If the parties are unable to provide ideas, they might as well fade away. There is some evidence that they are doing just that. One of the little-noted phenomena of the last three Legislative Council elections is the steadily increasing number of independent and non-affiliated candidates, from 17 in 1998, to 19 in 2000, and 22 on September 12. Membership of all parties remains tiny. The largest, the Democratic Alliance for Betterment of Hong Kong, has 'more than' 2,000 members, according to its website, while the Democratic Party has 632 and the Liberal Party about 700. The pan-democratic camp is now a welter of individuals and splinter parties that make it difficult to choose among them. The most influential new grouping, The Alliance, seems to have no policies at all other than to manipulate factions within Legco. Structurally, Hong Kong's political parties have much going against them, starting with constitutional restrictions on submitting legislation that costs money, and the lack of a system to translate electoral popularity into government roles. In Japan, the monolithic grip of the Liberal Democratic Party has reduced other parties to the role of a permanent opposition. In Hong Kong, the entire legislature has this aura. Its only real power lies in exercising its veto over legislation. There is no formal system for registering political parties, public funding for parties has been unavailable until the most recent election, and political advertising is banned.
No wonder, then, that Hong Kong's political parties find it difficult to recruit new members, much less persuade young politicians to join the fold. The first rung of a Hong Kong political career is a job as district councillor, with a salary of $15,000 per month, and upward mobility is limited. Former head of the DAB, Tsang Yok-sing, tells the story of being approached by new graduates of the Public Administration Department of Hong Kong University to learn about 'political careers'. When he asked which party they planned to join, the reaction was much like that of my Japanese assistant. They were preparing to take the entrance exam for administrative officers. What they meant by political careers was the civil service, not the grubby business of running for office.
Japan's lesson is that a political system that fails to command respect or provide alternatives invites paralysis. Whether they address constitutional reform or rubbish collection, Hong Kong's political parties must begin to compete on the basis of policies - and convince the public that they are serious about them. This is no longer an option, if Hong Kong's party system is to flourish.
Edith Terry is a writer based in Hong Kong
