#OpinionArticle
Hong Kong mourns the end of its way of life as China cracks down on dissent
//Hong Kong exists, as writer Han Suyin put it in the 1950s, “on borrowed time in a borrowed place.” Throughout its history, the city has been a bargaining chip in negotiations, its fate decided by other powers, each treaty setting out new expiration dates. Its identity is laced with unease about the city’s inevitable end as we locals know it, with our powerlessness in the face of time.
//There was the countdown to 1997, when Hong Kong was returned to Chinese rule after 150 years as a British colony. Britain and China had agreed in 1984 that after the handover, Hong Kong would be guaranteed its capitalist lifestyle and freedoms for 50 years.
//Now the countdown to 2047 is underway, to the end of the 50-year arrangement known as “One Country, Two Systems.” But last year, the government proposed an extradition bill that would allow suspected criminals to be sent to the mainland, setting in motion Hong Kong’s worst political crisis in decades. In June, Beijing fast-tracked a sweeping national security law that essentially criminalizes dissent.
//After the law, which allows closed-door trials and life imprisonment, was announced, headlines read like obituaries: “The saddest day in Hong Kong’s history,” “An official death sentence for Hong Kong.”
//The day after the national security law came into force, thousands took to the streets on July 1. A banner was unfurled, declaring: “We really f---ing like Hong Kong.” The message was clear: despite the law, Hong Kongers will continue to resist because they really, really like this place.
//To love Hong Kong is to be in a state of constant anxiety about its future. “It’s like watching a patient with cancer finally die,” said a student protester at Polytechnic University, who asked that her name not be published out of fear of arrest. “It’s something heartbreaking that would eventually happen. Now, it has happened.”
//Many Hong Kongers feel the city changes too quickly. The landscape is constantly evolving, the pace of gentrification dizzying. Chronic nostalgia is a part of the city’s soul: we cling onto our present as if it were already our past, because we don’t know how long it will last. We lament the disappearance of “dai pai dongs” (street food stalls), “si do” (mom-and-pop stores), and neon signs. Retro shops and restaurants flourish.
//Cantonese, the slangy, colloquial language of Hong Kong that all but requires an irreverent attitude to be spoken authentically, is one of the cultural elements that many fear is under threat. As Beijing’s influence grows, Mandarin, which is spoken on the mainland and is mutually unintelligible to Cantonese, has become more prominent. The government has encouraged schools to teach Chinese language classes in Mandarin instead of Cantonese.
//New forms of resistance have already emerged: activists hoist blank sheets of paper instead of posters, and share graphics that replace Chinese characters with shapes, still recognizable as slogans to those in the know. They sing “Glory to Hong Kong,” the “national anthem” penned by protesters, with a string of numbers in place of the lyrics.
//“I still have hope that the people of Hong Kong will not give up on the city,” said Jeffrey Andrews, a Hong Konger of Indian origin. We spoke at the Tsim Sha Tsui Ferry Pier, the place he feels most connected to the city, where one can see the iconic view of the harbor. To him it represents both the city’s progress and heritage. It’s also a place for locals to relax: “We need that now more than ever in this current crisis.”
//He believes in Hong Kong’s future. In June, he became the first ethnic minority to run for a lawmaker seat. “Yes, there's this law against us. But freedom is within the heart, mind and soul. I believe in the goodness of Hong Kong people. We will overcome, as always.”
Full article: National Geographic, (1-Sep) by Laurel Chor
#NationalSecurityLaw #China #Protest #TheEndofHongKong #ExtraditionBill
Hong Kong mourns the end of its way of life as China cracks down on dissent
//Hong Kong exists, as writer Han Suyin put it in the 1950s, “on borrowed time in a borrowed place.” Throughout its history, the city has been a bargaining chip in negotiations, its fate decided by other powers, each treaty setting out new expiration dates. Its identity is laced with unease about the city’s inevitable end as we locals know it, with our powerlessness in the face of time.
//There was the countdown to 1997, when Hong Kong was returned to Chinese rule after 150 years as a British colony. Britain and China had agreed in 1984 that after the handover, Hong Kong would be guaranteed its capitalist lifestyle and freedoms for 50 years.
//Now the countdown to 2047 is underway, to the end of the 50-year arrangement known as “One Country, Two Systems.” But last year, the government proposed an extradition bill that would allow suspected criminals to be sent to the mainland, setting in motion Hong Kong’s worst political crisis in decades. In June, Beijing fast-tracked a sweeping national security law that essentially criminalizes dissent.
//After the law, which allows closed-door trials and life imprisonment, was announced, headlines read like obituaries: “The saddest day in Hong Kong’s history,” “An official death sentence for Hong Kong.”
//The day after the national security law came into force, thousands took to the streets on July 1. A banner was unfurled, declaring: “We really f---ing like Hong Kong.” The message was clear: despite the law, Hong Kongers will continue to resist because they really, really like this place.
//To love Hong Kong is to be in a state of constant anxiety about its future. “It’s like watching a patient with cancer finally die,” said a student protester at Polytechnic University, who asked that her name not be published out of fear of arrest. “It’s something heartbreaking that would eventually happen. Now, it has happened.”
//Many Hong Kongers feel the city changes too quickly. The landscape is constantly evolving, the pace of gentrification dizzying. Chronic nostalgia is a part of the city’s soul: we cling onto our present as if it were already our past, because we don’t know how long it will last. We lament the disappearance of “dai pai dongs” (street food stalls), “si do” (mom-and-pop stores), and neon signs. Retro shops and restaurants flourish.
//Cantonese, the slangy, colloquial language of Hong Kong that all but requires an irreverent attitude to be spoken authentically, is one of the cultural elements that many fear is under threat. As Beijing’s influence grows, Mandarin, which is spoken on the mainland and is mutually unintelligible to Cantonese, has become more prominent. The government has encouraged schools to teach Chinese language classes in Mandarin instead of Cantonese.
//New forms of resistance have already emerged: activists hoist blank sheets of paper instead of posters, and share graphics that replace Chinese characters with shapes, still recognizable as slogans to those in the know. They sing “Glory to Hong Kong,” the “national anthem” penned by protesters, with a string of numbers in place of the lyrics.
//“I still have hope that the people of Hong Kong will not give up on the city,” said Jeffrey Andrews, a Hong Konger of Indian origin. We spoke at the Tsim Sha Tsui Ferry Pier, the place he feels most connected to the city, where one can see the iconic view of the harbor. To him it represents both the city’s progress and heritage. It’s also a place for locals to relax: “We need that now more than ever in this current crisis.”
//He believes in Hong Kong’s future. In June, he became the first ethnic minority to run for a lawmaker seat. “Yes, there's this law against us. But freedom is within the heart, mind and soul. I believe in the goodness of Hong Kong people. We will overcome, as always.”
Full article: National Geographic, (1-Sep) by Laurel Chor
#NationalSecurityLaw #China #Protest #TheEndofHongKong #ExtraditionBill
Culture
How Hong Kong’s complex history explains its current crisis with China
From a British colony to part of Beijing’s ‘one country, two systems’ policy, Hong Kong’s government has almost always been the exception—not the rule.