So farewell, Hong Kong. The vibrant, pulsating city-state that grew, under British rule, into one of the world’s great financial, business, cultural and tourism hubs has finally been brought to heel. Browbeaten, abused, silenced. Trust Xi Jinping, China’s dementor president, to suck out all the joy. Last Wednesday was the UN’s International Day of Happiness. But it was a sad, bad day for Hong Kong.
That was the moment residents woke up to the news that Hong Kong’s puppet legislature, acting on Beijing’s orders, had unanimously abolished its right to think, speak and act freely. Eating noodles is a seditious act now, if the noodles have secret foreign connections. Under new security laws, known as article 23, life imprisonment awaits those who defy the behemoth to the north.
Commending the laws, John Lee, Hong Kong’s placeman chief executive – whose approval rating is at a record low – hit new highs of paranoia. The measures would “allow Hong Kong to put a stop to espionage activities, the conspiracies and traps of intelligence units and the infiltration … of enemy forces”. Translated, this means locking up ordinary people who dare to speak their minds. Unhappily, most no longer do.
Article 23 is final confirmation of China’s shocking breach of faith with Britain. Beijing solemnly pledged, 40 years ago, to respect Hong Kong’s autonomy. The 1984 Sino-British joint declaration agreed the “one country, two systems” principle would continue in force for at least 50 years after the 1997 handover. China gave its word. Its word has proven worthless.
Such hard truths are unwelcome in Xi-land. Spokesperson Bi Haibo, of China’s London embassy, says they reflect a “colonial mentality”. This is a cheap way of dismissing all criticism, and in this case inaccurate. For many if not most Hongkongers, colonial life in the years preceding the handover was probably preferable to Xi’s unsmiling jackboot regime.
Just take a quick squint at the history. Hong Kong, a colony from 1842 until it was rebranded a British dependent territory in 1983, was unquestionably the helpless plaything of imperialists and colonialists from Lord Palmerston onwards. The opium wars were a UK national disgrace. The 19th-century exploitation of local people and successive, forcible land grabs were shameful.
Yet, for all that, Hong Kong flourished – as a trading centre and gateway to the far east, secure (save for Japan’s 1941-45 occupation) under the aegis of empire. From a barren island rock, the skyscrapers of a booming metropolis arose. Though denied full democratic rights, its people eventually prospered. Many from mainland China settled there.
Now, under the dead hand of Xi’s trademark revanchism, conformism and intimidation, the life is being squeezed out of Hong Kong by one flagrant injustice after another.
Take the case, far from isolated, of 12 people sentenced this month to up to seven years in jail for their part in pro-democracy protests in 2019. Or consider the plight of the so-called Hong Kong 47, prosecuted in a no-jury trial for organising free elections. And then there is the infamous case of Jimmy Lai, former publisher of the suppressed Apple Daily newspaper, on trial for allegedly colluding with “foreign forces”.
The relentless, groundless persecution of Lai, a British citizen, has become a potent symbol of Chinese government arrogance and impunity. In January, the UN expressed “deep concern” that key prosecution evidence had been obtained through torture. Yet Lai’s Kafka-esque ordeal, another form of torture, continues regardless.
The passage of article 23, supplementing the notorious 2020 national security law, gives Xi’s flunkeys free rein in Hong Kong – and beyond. The laws’ assumption of extraterritorial powers places exiles at risk anywhere in the world. A torrent of international criticism last week was contemptuously dismissed by Beijing as “slander”, as if it were a personal affront to the great helmsman.
Chinese officials surely realise – and possibly do not care – that their risible over-the-top security crackdown is accelerating Hong Kong’s decline. Foreign companies think of leaving, investment is drying up, the city’s economy is languishing. Businesses worry about vague, catch-all definitions of espionage and state control of information flows, data and commercial courts.
China’s post-pandemic economic slump, exacerbated by Xi’s private sector squeeze, is adding to Hong Kong’s woes. The stock market has lost nearly half its value in three years. The property sector is in crisis, besieged by debt and raised interest rates. For many in Asia, Singapore is the new business destination of choice.
In the media and art worlds, strict censorship intensifies the chill – and the brain drain. Artists are joining an exodus of young professionals. About 154,000 Hongkongers had received visas for Britain alone, as of September last year. Yet Xi’s destructive, regressive policies remain beyond public reproach, as seen during this month’s “two sessions” parliamentary rubber-stamp fest in Beijing.
Robot-like delegates carefully skirted any mention of Xi’s serial blundering. Premier Li Qiang even cancelled the customary press conference rather than face questions. Instead, China’s official annual report card showered praise on “the sound guidance of Xi Jinping Thought on Socialism with Chinese Characteristics for a New Era [and] the strong leadership of the Party Central Committee with Comrade Xi Jinping at its core”.
Do these bleating herds of sheepish sycophants have any idea how silly, how anachronistic this cant sounds? Probably not.
Hong Kong’s long goodbye is a cautionary tale for the modern age. A flawed but totemic success story crushed by outdated ideology, hyper-nationalism and the new emperor of Beijing. Britain and friends failed dismally to protect the former colony. Hong Kong, as it was, is over. But it does not end there.
Xi is adamant: Taiwan is next. The west cannot afford to fail again.
• Simon Tisdall is the Observer’s foreign affairs commentator
