Troubled beaches
On the beaches of Hong Kong, you can find traces of Cancun, the beautiful island off the east coast of Mexico which was the site two weeks ago of another stormy meeting of the ill-starred World Trade Organisation. The meeting collapsed with a walkout of officials, like its predecessor in Seattle in December 1999, although officials left in the mid-afternoon of September 14 rather than at midnight, in ample time to sample a margarita or improve their tans.
The reason for the breakdown was simple, if tragic - the growing alienation and hostility between the emerging industrialised world and advanced industrial countries protecting politically fossilised sectors such as textiles and agriculture.
In Cancun, the US and Europe held the developing world hostage by demanding concessions in investment and competition policy, among others, in exchange for movement on agriculture. This was a replay of Seattle, with different specifics but the same underlying conflicts.
There, the deal-making foundered on demands by the developed world that poor countries accept their standards on environment and labour. Not unreasonably, developing countries regard such demands as efforts to curb their growth at the expense of coddled industries in the first world.
What does this have to do with the beaches of Hong Kong? For one thing, the next plenary meeting of the WTO will happen here, and we are likely to witness the clashes and contradictions first hand. But perhaps there is more to it than that.
Last Sunday was International Coastal Cleanup Day, an event co-ordinated in Hong Kong by the indefatigable Civic Exchange think-tank. According to Thierry Chan Tak-chuen, of Civic Exchange, this year at least 20 groups were involved, although not all got out on the beaches last weekend.
My group, the Hong Kong Outrigger Canoe club, paddled out to Po Toi Island to tackle its two diminutive beaches. On the main beach, beneath the rustic huts of the fishing village, we picked or hauled from the sand plastic bottles, sandals, toothbrushes, lengths of plastic tubing, metal piping, rope, fishing net and other debris, before moving on to a tiny cove nearby littered with Styrofoam, bottles, syringes, and other unlovely objects. In all, we picked up 70 bags of rubbish, about 300kgs - all of which we documented as part of a global operation by the US-based Ocean Conservancy.
As we were crouched over the second beach, on the ridge above us, happy holidaymakers made their way to the lighthouse and rock carvings nearby. Carrying frilly parasols and dressed in their Sunday best, they resembled a Mary Cassatt painting of 19th century New England promenaders at Cape Cod - bathed in light, handsome, good-natured. They looked down at the group of swimsuit-clad beach operatives, waved and continued along their way, dumping empty water bottles here and there.
Some among us waved back, impatiently, beckoning the sightseers to help. Our reaction and their reactions - however friendly - echoed the dynamics that are tearing the global trading system apart. Our largely middle-class professional men and women, about three-quarters expatriate and one-quarter Hong Kong natives, reflected the first-world assumption that the environment is a precious resource to be conserved.
The fisherfolk and mostly working-class Chinese visitors viewed the environment as a resource to be used - livelihood for the fishermen, relief and a bit of exercise for the dwellers of Hong Kong's densely packed, ill-maintained high rises and tiny apartments.
The paradox of environmental theology versus economic practicality is a false one - from both viewpoints, the environment is still a cherished resource, and we all have an obligation to manage the planet's resources wisely.
Similarly, the disputes over trade are inherently flawed, because none of us can do without its benefits, whether we are Chinese workers aspiring to own a television or an American family fretting about how much it can spend on Christmas presents.
Cooling off in the clear green waters off Po Toi, gazing up at its hills and marvelling at its beauty, the scene was an emblem of what we risk by failing to find a balance.
When Hong Kong hosts the WTO meeting - with its attendant crowds of protesters and angry conflicts - it will need to use all the accumulated wisdom of its experience as a free trade entrepot to play a role as peacemaker and bridge between opposing views. Otherwise, the link between Cancun and Hong Kong's beaches may be more than a casual one. Both could represent the growing blight in the ideals of international co-operation that guided, however fitfully, the last century.
Edith Terry is the editor of the Post's opinion pages and the author of How Asia Got Rich: Japan, China and the Asian Miracle