bodyType

customContents

entityId

entityUuid

articlePageQuery

filter

article

articleBaseAdvertisingInfoArticle

articleListArticle

articleSeoArticle

hooksArticleAcknowledgementGateOverlayArticle

hooksTrackPageViewArticle

hooksContentInterestArticle

articleLinkingDataContent

hooksAmpRedirectArticle

articleSchemaContent

liveArticle

advertZone

sentiment

contentLock

topics

types

sections

paywallTypes

createdDate

publishedDate

urlAlias

moreOnThisArticles

sponsorType

commentCount

authorLocations

authors

corrections

displaySlideShow

multimediaEmbed

printHeadline

seriesContainer

articleSpeeches

socialHeadline

headline

images

flag

firstTopic

glossary

flattenTypeIds

image

relatedLinks

relatedNewsletters

__typename

sponsor

pdfFiles

seriesReverseOrder

series

disableOffPlatformContent

published

updatedDate

summary

subHeadline

body

keywords

readingTime

customTimezone

liveContents

I came to Hong Kong at the end of the 50s. I was about 3 years old.
 
I originally went from Guangzhou to Macau. My father underwent a “Struggle Session” during the Cultural Revolution. He owned a machine that created byproducts from mixed grains and was charged with wasting food.
 
I was given the nickname “The Bull” by people in the neighborhood. My father ran a restaurant called The Vietnam Bull—he was originally a Chinese emigrant to Vietnam.
 
In 1987, I saw students in China coming out to protest. I thought that China was beginning to change. I started paying attention to developments in its society.
 
On May 19, 1989, I was playing mahjong with friends. I heard Li Peng say that the students were causing a riot. I stopped playing and left to go to the [former] Xinhua News Agency. It was windy and raining. There were so many people gathered there.
 
The saddest moment for me was the first gunshot during the June 4 incident. 
 
I said to my wife, “I can’t take this anymore. I need to do something.” That was when I threw myself into activism. I didn’t think I was going to last this long.
 
I have two sons. I don’t want their generation to be tortured by Communists.
 
When I started in social activism in the early 90s, I met [former Democratic Party chairman] Albert Ho, who was recording verbal accounts of survivors of the Second World War during the Japanese occupation. This was to keep a record of their experiences in case they passed away—so we can have the necessary information to investigate.
 
From then on, I started looking into Sino-Japanese relations and compensation for Japanese war crimes.
 
In 1996, the Japanese foreign minister Yukihiko Ikeda came to Hong Kong. We went to demand an apology and compensation from Japan. A few in the Japanese right-wing camp announced that they were going to go to the Diaoyu Islands and claim the lighthouse.
 
I said, “Let’s go and tear down that lighthouse.”
 
It caused a bit of furor. Some people said that there was no way we could do it.
 
One of those people was Anthony Wong Chau-sang. On a show on Commercial Radio, he said we were only messing around.
 
I was so angry that I went up there to look for him. I said, “Don’t just use your words. Come with us.”
 
At the time, we had no idea where the Diaoyus were. I went to Taiwan and rented a boat about 5 nautical miles from the islands. 
 
After 1998, the fight for the Diaoyus came to a halt. It only started up again in 2012. But our passion for it won’t cool down just because people aren’t paying attention to it anymore. 
 
Last year, on Valentine’s Day, my wife said, “I got your present.” But I didn’t buy her anything. She said the present was the Communists in China becoming part of the effort in fighting for the Diaoyu Islands.
 
I started Citizens’ Radio in 2005. We noticed a chain of events that indicated press freedom was being systematically repressed.
 
In October last year, Citizens’ Radio was in court for broadcasting without a license. I said I broke the law, but I didn’t commit moral crimes.
 
The judge reminded me of the fact that if I didn’t pay a fine, I would have to go to jail. I said, “That’s fine.”
 
We refused to pay the fine in order to highlight the fact that the government is suppressing press freedom.
 
It’s been eight years since the first time we were charged. We’ve done everything we can to try to get a broadcasting license. We have no hope of the government relaxing broadcasting rules. We have to do it through civil disobedience.
 
Hong Kong’s laws have always been set by rich folk and those with special privileges. A government created through undemocratic means will only protect the rich.
 
Let’s say a couple jointly makes about $30,000 a month. That’s already considered middle class, but it’s like a punishment: they can’t afford to buy property, nor are they eligible for public housing. How can Hong Kong be happy this way?
 
You end up working 18 hours a day, and you still can’t even have your own home.
 
Look at Li Ka-shing. He’s over 80. Just retire—you’ve got enough. It’s not like you can stuff it in the coffin.
 
Tung Chee-hwa was stupid, Donald Tsang was greedy, and CY Leung is dishonorable.
 
I think the decision I made 25 years ago was a right one. Even though I don’t have any money, the years have been full of fulfillment for me.
 
What I want is for our next generation not to have to suffer under a harsh regime, and live in a place where they can be safe and well.
 
Tune into Citizens’ Radio on Mon-Fri, 8-9pm for Bull Tsang’s show: www.citizensradio.org.


Best of the Best: Quotes from the Most Prominent People in Hong Kong

Designer Comma Leung is Crowdfunding to Make Wallets for the Blind

What Do I Need to Know to Survive in Hong Kong?

HK Mag Staff Pick Their Favorite Eats for the Last Time

HK Magazine Archive

Tsang Kin-shing

“The Bull,” Tsang Kin-shing

Magazines

Known as “The Bull,” Tsang Kin-shing is a member of the League of Social Democrats, the founder of Citizens’ Radio, and one of the first Hongkongers to land on the disputed Diaoyu Islands. A frequent protester, he has been arrested more times than he can count. He talks to Andrea Lo about his political journey.
