Hong Kong’s Tiananmen vigil embraced by new generation, as young activists recommit to fighting for those without a voice
- The anniversary has been dismissed by some residents in the past as a futile exercise that never drew mainland China any closer to democracy
- But with the Beijing-mandated national security law on the horizon, some are wondering if this year’s event will be the last
In recent years, the organiser of the annual Tiananmen vigil in Hong Kong endured questions about its relevance from young people who slammed it for being ritualistic, naive and idealistic for caring about democratic change in mainland China.
“I used to find shouting slogans [in the park] a bit useless, especially when the alliance has been doing it all these years,” said Mary Leung, a 24-year-old Chinese University student. On Thursday night, however, Leung showed up in Mong Kok with five of her friends to take part in a vigil spread across the city. “Now it becomes something we want to treasure: the exercise of free speech,” she said.
As the annual event in Victoria Park was banned because of social-distancing rules in place to combat the coronavirus pandemic, participants popped up in assorted locations with candles. But that was not the only difference to the commemoration.
Many sang the protest anthem Glory to Hong Kong, waved protest flags and chanted an array of slogans, from “no rioters, only tyranny” to “one nation, one Hong Kong”.
Amid the rise of anti-mainland sentiments following the Occupy protests in 2014, some young people and student leaders had campaigned to snub the annual vigil in Victoria Park, which they had denounced as being ritualistic without achieving any breakthrough for democracy.
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Plain-clothes police officers disperse protesters with batons and pepper spray in Mong Kok
Some also hit out at vigil organiser the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of China, arguing they should not be burdened with helping to bring democratic change on the mainland.
He said protesters across the political spectrum were putting aside their differences in the face of the new national security law.
“The freedom and democracy people fought for on June 4 [1989] is not so different from what we fight for now,” he said. “If we don’t commemorate June 4, maybe people will forget what my generation has done in a few decades’ time.”
Tobey Yau, 21, who works in social services, said she could sympathise with the alliance’s “end one-party rule” slogan after last year’s anti-government protests.
“What we’re facing now in Hong Kong is very similar to what the generation of 1989 was experiencing back then. The government won’t listen to your opinion and just does whatever it wants,” she said.
Yau said the proposed national security law made her feel the desperation of those students at Tiananmen Square.
“Looking back at history, I worry we will also face the same situation,” she said. “We are two generations walking the same path, but they failed. And now it seems like we will meet the same outcome.”
In Tsuen Wan, Leo Lee, who worked at an authority granting licences to music products, said he did not participate in any commemorative events in the past and was unenthusiastic about politics, but he changed his views after last year’s protests.
And when the national security law was announced, he feared for the city’s future.
If the national security law is enacted, will the June 4 vigil disappear in Hong Kong?
“If the national security law is enacted, will the June 4 vigil disappear in Hong Kong? Will this year’s vigil be the last?” he asked, adding he would pass on the facts of the crackdown to his three-year-old daughter. “I don’t want the truth to fade into oblivion,” he said.
Beijing last week announced its decision to impose the law for Hong Kong, which would “prevent, stop and punish” secession, subversion, terrorism and foreign interference in the city.
In the vigil in Ma On Shan and elsewhere, participants chanting slogans calling for the vindication for the 1989 student movements alternated their shouts with protest rallying cries such as “liberate Hong Kong; revolution of our times”.
But as the clock struck 8.09pm, people held up their lighted phones, resembling candlelight, as they observed a minute of silence, part of the vigil’s annual ritual to mark the year of the tragedy.
Police earlier had banned the vigil in Victoria Park for the first time in 30 years on health grounds amid the coronavirus pandemic.
Defying the ban to head in small groups to the park, the alliance also had a new strategy. It teamed up with district councillors to set up about 100 booths in various parts of town to hand out candles, a collaboration made possible only because the opposition won overwhelmingly in last November’s council elections. Controlling almost 80 per cent of the seats, the councillors now have access to resources and a network that proved helpful in assisting the citywide vigils. The ban at Victoria Park also worked for another reason, according to a trade industry worker in his 50s, who only gave his surname Ip and was out at Mei Foo. It spurred people into action.
“In the past years, some Hongkongers might have thought the Victoria Park vigil was repetitive and chose not to participate,” he said. “But this year, police’s decision backfired. It made people who might have forgotten [about June 4] remember again.”
