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Striking members of the Hospital Authority Employees Alliance and other activists gather at the Hospital Authority building on February 7, calling for the closing of Hong Kong’s border with the mainland. Photo: AFP
Opinion
Paul Letters
Paul Letters

Coronavirus: Hong Kong’s strikes and panic are symptoms of an ailing ‘one country, two systems’

  • Beijing reacted faster to the current outbreak than to Sars, which some in the outside world see as an improvement. In Hong Kong, however, many hold the view that the WHO is downplaying the deadliness of Covid-19 to appease China
Hong Kong lacks both the freedom that comes with full democracy and the total control that comes with an authoritarian regime: it is neither one thing nor the other. People here are not free to choose their political leaders, yet they have the freedom to protest. The dysfunctionality of having one freedom without the other is exacerbated by governmental responses to the coronavirus outbreak, all of which underlines the unsustainability of “one country, two systems”.
During the 2003 outbreak of severe acute respiratory syndrome, Hong Kong showed a level of solidarity – both within itself and with mainland China – that is now conspicuous by its absence. There are, however, commonalities between Hong Kong in 2003 and in 2020: schools are closed; buses and trains run eerily empty; and Western expats flout the norm by not wearing masks.
But this time around, in the changed political landscape hewn by months of protests, disharmony prevails. It is hard to tell where political protests against China’s encroaching power end and where demonstrations of discontent over the Covid-19 disease begin.
Thousands of health workers exercised their right to protest by going on strike over the Hong Kong government’s refusal to close the border with the mainland. Staff at Hong Kong’s flagship airline, Cathay Pacific, have voted to strike over the continuation of flights to and from the mainland. And shoppers scramble for toilet rolls.
An authoritarian power like China can readily direct its factories to produce whatever it dictates, so when word spread last week that toilet paper manufacturers were shifting gear to make face masks, panic buyers cleared supermarket shelves.

A shortage of masks, toilet paper and leadership hits Hong Kong

The death toll from Covid-19 has risen above that from Sars, but the new disease appears to have a much lower mortality rate, around 2 per cent – having said that, figures from the mainland are distrusted by many in Hong Kong.
There are reports of Wuhan hospitals turning away possible Covid-19 patients, while others never make it to hospital. People are apparently suffering – and in some cases, dying – at home, following which the cause of death might be simply recorded as “pneumonia”.

Even if accurate figures are ascertained, we won’t know the final mortality rate for some time. In 2003, the World Health Organisation initially reported the mortality rate of Sars to be around 3 per cent – a fluid figure the WHO later revised to 15 per cent, before settling on around 10 per cent.

In Hong Kong, many hold the view that the WHO is downplaying the deadliness of Covid-19 in order to appease China – an increasingly obtrusive presence within such international organisations.

Seventeen years ago, Beijing covered up the Sars outbreak for months: Hong Kong broke that story and brought it to the world’s attention. This time around, Beijing spent weeks, rather than months, in denial about the severity of the outbreak.

Some on the mainland and in the outside world view this as progress, whereas many in Hong Kong tend to see a familiar pattern of crisis under a totalitarian-style system that they do not wish to live under themselves.

Hong Kong’s darkest hour: Sars and the suicide of an icon

A fundamental of the legitimacy of a government is its ability to protect its citizens: in the current outbreak, both the Hong Kong and mainland governments have lost points on that score.

In judging Beijing’s handling of affairs, it bears remembering that total power means total responsibility. As the number of cases and deaths grows, even patriotic Hongkongers might question the benefits of Communist Party rule.

If forgoing democratic freedoms fails to enhance safety and stability, who could accept authoritarian rule? Criticism in that vein is seeping out across the mainland – and it flows freely in Hong Kong.

Without a meaningful democratic outlet for their frustration, Hongkongers have little choice but to use public protests as their means of communicating displeasure. It’s ironic that a city under the authority of a dissent-quashing superpower has become the world’s leading city of protest.

Paul Letters is a novelist, journalist and historian. His latest wartime novel, The Slightest Chance, is set in and around Hong Kong. See paulletters.com

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