Hong Kong used to be so peaceful, which made us all proud. When relatives visited 15 years ago, I let my nephew and my daughter, both 12 years old, take a taxi from our home in Mid-Levels to Pacific Place on their own. All we asked was that my daughter call us on her mobile phone when she got there. My nephew, born and raised in Los Angeles, could not believe it.
But now, violence is killing Hong Kong. Protesters, police and organised gangs have engaged in violence against each other,
innocent civilians and
public property. Even a district councillor and an
official at Beijing’s liaison office are suspected of encouraging violence. Everyone seems to be getting away with it.
During
Occupy Central five years ago, a police officer slapped a protester and was sentenced to
three months in jail. Now, police violence erupts with impunity. Citizens are afraid to go out at night and particularly at the weekend. Come Saturday evening, the city is a ghost town.
Even a lifeguard at my health club, who was born on the mainland, expressed fear that the police will turn on him, as they have on innocent
MTR passengers. A foreign academic at Hong Kong University of Science and Technology, recruited from the US, is considering leaving because it no longer seems safe for children.
Leaned on by the local government and Beijing to
play the “heavy” in this political drama, the police have lost most of their credibility. They are seen as lackeys of the state, not protectors of the cherished rule of law. In particular, they are excoriated for beginning the spiral of violence on June 12, when
excessive police force first reared its ugly head.
Footage taken at the end of the “million person march” of
June 9, widely seen as a peaceful demonstration, shows protesters attacking a lone police officer, an event some say led to the tough response to the protests three days later.
Still, according to one former officer, the violence has
deeply harmed police-community relations. Some key community programmes, built up over the years to recruit talent and integrate police into society, have fallen by the wayside.
In particular, the JPC Fight Crime Summer Camp, an annual event by youth liaison group
Junior Police Call, and a major recruitment channel, sunk amid a barrage of criticism, as enrolment dropped from 1,000 last year to only 70 this summer.
The turn to violence by activists should not be surprising. Political engagement is a continuum, from passivity to protest marches, civil disobedience, sporadic violence and finally, widespread unrest.
In a report I wrote for the Guangdong government in May 2014, on the eve of Occupy, I encouraged officials to learn to live with civil disobedience or face violent protests. Beijing ignored such moderate voices, and instead carried out a concerted attack on young politicians elected to the Legislative Council in
October 2016.
Now Hong Kong’s young people have drawn a line in the sand, and say to Beijing that if it continues to “
mainlandise” Hong Kong, those efforts will be met with violence.
Violence is part of the negotiating process – protesters who stormed Legco wrote on desks that Lam had showed she responded
only to violence, a message reinforced when she later
withdrew the extradition bill.
But the utility of violence depends on the willingness or ability of protest leaders to calibrate its use to gain
concessions from the Hong Kong government and Beijing. To date, they have shown no willingness to do so, preferring expressions of gratuitous violence that alienate popular support.
Communist Party leaders deal with violence every day. Violence is part of the repertoire of mainland protesters, one of whom who told me in 1997 that the only way his group could get results was to 闹 (nao, or make trouble).
This could include vandalism, such as burning police cars, police stations, or attacking local government offices. Even those going to court to defend their rights felt they needed to “make trouble”.
But times have changed in China, and therefore, Hong Kong. President Xi Jinping is committed to
tighter controls over Hong Kong society, forcing young people who want to prevent further erosion of their freedoms to believe they must employ violence.
While there is in Hong Kong what Georges Sorel saw as prejudice against violence in civil society, particularly among economists and the business community, he said such prejudice empowers a dictatorial state, and undermines efforts to stop the state from further attacks on civil society.
Finally,
Yuen Long and
Tuen Mun have long seen rural interests violently defend their land and indigenous rights. Still, should Junius Ho Kwan-yiu, a lawmaker for New Territories West, and district council member for Tuen Mun, be allowed to
publicly defend those of his constituents who
attacked innocent individuals?
Radical protesters who reportedly want to harm Hong Kong are succeeding.
Tourism has plummeted, harming Hong Kong-based
airlines, and the city’s
financial rating just took a hit and could drop further. Should violence continue into the next year, the city may take years to recover.
But can we find a way out? Can we agree on some degree of
amnesty that does not empower protesters and does encourage them to stop, such as setting a date after which any violence will be sharply punished? Could a
commission of inquiry investigate protester, triad and police violence without naming names?
The Hong Kong government and Beijing wasted five years after Occupy without introducing any initiatives targeted at young people. Clearly, the ongoing violence should implore us to find some solutions and to do so very quickly.
David Zweig is Professor Emeritus, Hong Kong University of Science and Technology and director of Transnational China Consulting Limited
