On his nomination papers, chief executive-elect Donald Tsang Yam-kuen put 'politician', in English, as his occupation. There is nothing wrong with that, as he has been engaged full-time in politics as a principal official, and principal officials are not civil servants. As chief executive, his work will be fully devoted to practising the art of government. But the term 'politician' has presented a translation problem. In the Chinese language, there are only two common translations, whose Putonghua transliterations are zhengke and zhengzhijia. The trouble is that while 'politician' has two meanings - a neutral one that refers to a person who takes part in politics, and a negative one that denotes a person who follows politics as a career regardless of principle - zhengke's negative connotation predominates. By contrast, zhengzhijia is used to describe an accomplished political leader, and carries a meaning akin to 'statesman' in English. There is no comparable term in Chinese that renders only the neutral meaning. Mr Tsang thought about using zhenzhirenwu, or political figure, but decided not to, as it refers to a person who takes part in politics, but not necessarily full time. The lack of a proper Chinese translation for 'politician' says a lot about the Chinese political culture. The imperial days ended less than a century ago, in 1911. For thousands of years before, successive emperors ruled the country as an extension of their family. The job of governance was delegated to a class of officials selected on the basis of their literary merits and moral conduct, as assessed in imperial examinations. They were answerable to the emperor, and did not regard themselves as civil servants or politicians. 'Politics' and 'politician' in the modern sense of the terms did not exist in China. Their translations had to be invented by scholars trying to introduce western concepts of government in the late 19th century. How zhengke and zhengzhijia were coined, how they have become the most commonly accepted translations for politician, and how they might have affected public perception of politics, are not merely interesting questions for scholarly research. A deep understanding of these serious subjects is necessary for all those who care about political development in Hong Kong, and the country as a whole. As Legislative Councillor Emily Lau Wai-hing pointed out, many Hong Kong people have an aversion to politics, regarding it as 'dirty and filthy', seeing politicians as 'hypocritical and self-serving'. She is right. For the older generation, those perceptions might have to do with the tumultuous and bloody development of Chinese politics over the past century, and the unsavoury conduct of leaders who displayed wanton disregard for the interests of the people. The younger generation are not saddled with those thoughts, but might have been influenced by what they regard as improper conduct by contemporary politicians trying to further their own interests. While Hong Kong has many conscientious politicians who have served with devotion and dedication, there is also no shortage of ones whose vote-grabbing tactics have continued to give politicians a bad name. In describing himself as a politician, Mr Tsang has also called for a better Chinese translation, without negative connotations. That is a difficult challenge. But if Mr Tsang, as chief executive, could help 'cleanse' the term through his exemplary conduct, he will have made a great contribution to Hong Kong's political development. C. K. Lau is the Post's executive editor, policy
