Down into the fray
If you had asked, four weeks ago, who would win a landslide victory in the Legislative Council by-election, people on the street would have said: 'Anson Chan Fang On-sang'. Today, the answer would be very different. Mrs Chan's victory appears anything but certain. An opinion poll conducted by the University of Hong Kong last week indicated that the big lead she enjoyed over her rival, former security chief Regina Ip Lau Suk-yee, has been trimmed to as low as 3 percentage points.
While the poll's validity could be a matter for debate, it nonetheless serves as an ominous sign about Mrs Chan's waning popularity. The interesting question is: why has the political wind shifted so quickly?
With hindsight, Mrs Chan's decision to stand might not have been such a savvy move. Labelled the 'conscience of Hong Kong' by the international media, she appeared to personify law, order and administrative prudence, as they had become established in the pre-handover years.
Above all, the former chief secretary seemed to represent those who refuse to succumb to pressure from Beijing. This image of a principled woman won her immense popularity. Yet, such political symbolism appears to have lost its lustre following her entry into the by-election race.
In a nutshell, Mrs Chan's fading fame underscores the downside of symbolic politics, whose appeal builds on abstract values and broad ideas while leaving the specifics in the shade. Most importantly, to become a symbolic figure, one has to distance oneself from tangible political rewards.
Mahatma Gandhi, the symbol of anti-colonialism, did not seek the honour of 'Father of the Nation' when he led India's independence movement. South African president, Nelson Mandela, stepped down once the nation was on its feet.
Thus, symbolic figures can be set apart from other politicians precisely because they have proved to be crusaders of a cause, not a prize.
In a way, Mrs Chan's waning popularity is a product of her own success in previous years. Having stepped into the election fray, she is now chasing a concrete political objective - a seat in Legco. Although one could argue that this seat is a small step to a lofty ideal, the Mrs Chan of today nonetheless appears at odds with the Mrs Chan of yesterday.
This move from the abstract to the real world of politics has not worked well for Mrs Chan. In order to move closer to the pan-democratic camp, she has had to venture into unfamiliar territory - tackling issues such as a minimum wage and welfare provisions.
While her eloquence and wit continue to be useful, she nonetheless has to mingle with vendors and housewives. Although Mrs Chan has mastered all the rituals of mass politics remarkably well, her weaknesses have also become visible as the gap narrows between her and the masses. Mrs Chan seems to be one among many politicians, rather than a unifying force, at this moment.
Thus, her competitive edge over Mrs Ip has been undercut. Like Mrs Chan, Mrs Ip has pledged her support to the democracy cause, although she is more attuned to the wishes of Beijing. Mrs Ip has also visited public housing estates, and delivered numerous speeches. As a result, the election contest has lost some of its attraction; the contrast between the two has become blurred. A 'war of the century for democracy' - a phrase coined by some in the pan-democratic camp - has not emerged.
It remains to be seen whether Mrs Chan can effectively turn the tide before the December 2 polling day. But, in any event, she will be remembered for her courage to meet the challenge of the day. Moving from abstract principles to the real political battleground may be an inevitable step for all, as Hong Kong's transformation from elite to electoral politics continues.
The swing in Mrs Chan's popularity could just be the unavoidable price of her transformation.
Kitty Poon, an assistant professor at the Hong Kong Polytechnic University, is a part-time member of the government's Central Policy Unit
