Democratic dream at risk

As China’s grip on Hong Kong continues to tighten, activists keep fighting against the ongoing erosion of freedoms.

For Chinese President Xi Jinping, the 20th anniversary of Hong Kong’s return to Beijing is a moment to toast the reunification of a nation and hail China’s unstoppable rise. For activists such as Eddie Chu, one of the leading lights of a new generation of prodemocracy politicians, it has become an occasion for something quite different.

‘‘Boot-licking … Unprecedented boot-licking!’’ he says, a smile breaking across his face as he reflects on how many members of the local elite have chosen to mark two decades of Chinese rule by plastering their homes and businesses with patriotic slogans and red flags in the hope, he suspects, of currying economic favour.

‘‘That is quite the opposite of what Hong Kong people wanted to see in 1997. We wanted to see democracy – democracy is not boot-licking.’’

Yesterday, China’s authoritarian ruler, who is making a rare threeday tour of the former British colony, led celebrations of two decades of Chinese control alongside Hong Kong’s incoming chief executive, Carrie Lam.

At a flag-raising ceremony just down the road from where the umbrella ‘‘revolution’’ happened – an unprecedented eruption of dissent in 2014 – the pair marked the moment the city of 7.3 million residents returned to China after 156 years of colonial rule.

But for members of Hong Kong’s democracy movement, the anniversary is accompanied by a profound sense of uncertainty and trepidation. Twenty years after Britain’s departure, campaigners such as Chu fear Beijing is preparing to up the ante in its battle for control.

Ten pro-democracy legislators, including Chu, are at risk of losing their jobs as a result of government-backed legal challenges against them.

There are fears that under Lam, who was elected by a tightly controlled selection committee, there will be a renewed push to enact controversial anti-subversion legislation.

While Xi has sought to strike an upbeat tone during his visit, recent comments by another senior Communist Party figure – who vowed to consolidate China’s control of the former colony – has put activists on edge.

‘‘The relationship between the central government and Hong Kong is that of delegation of power, not power sharing,’’ said Zhang Dejiang, China’s No 3 official, adding that Hong Kong could only be governed by those who posed ‘‘no threat to [its] prosperity and stability’’.

Feeding into the activists’ sense of foreboding is the feeling that many Western governments have now cut them loose, for fear of damaging their economic relationships with the world’s secondlargest economy.

British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson issued a carefully worded statement about the anniversary, saying it was ‘‘vital’’ that Hong Kong’s autonomy be preserved. But he made no direct mention of growing fears about the erosion of Hong Kong’s freedoms, or even Beijing’s alleged abduction of a local bookseller who held a British passport.

‘‘The British government is just awful. I’m afraid I cannot find any kind words to say about that,’’ says Martin Lee, a 79-year-old lawyer who is the elder statesman of Hong Kong’s democracy movement.

Like many, Lee is convinced that China is gradually stripping away the freedoms promised to Hong Kong’s citizens under the ‘‘one country, two systems’’ formula –

Martin Lee, lawyer and democratic activist

The young people want democracy. They don’t want to be brainwashed. and that Britain has done nothing to intervene.

On Friday, a spokesperson for China’s foreign ministry appeared to confirm those fears, saying that the joint declaration, a deal negotiated by London and Beijing guaranteeing Hong Kong’s way of life for 50 years, was a historical document that no longer had any practical significance.

Suzanne Pepper, a veteran chronicler of the city’s quest for democracy, says campaigners can no longer count on London or Washington for support: ‘‘As long as there is not blood in the streets, they don’t care.’’

Not everybody is lamenting yesterday’s landmark anniversary, however.

The streets around Xi’s waterfront hotel are dotted with clusters of pro-government supporters and decorated with banners that read ‘‘I love Hong Kong’’ and ‘‘One country, two systems has the strong vitality’’. Skyscrapers have been decked out in bright red banners and neon displays that read: ‘‘Warmly celebrate the 20th anniversary of Hong Kong’s return to China.’’

Amid the there fervour.

‘‘Hong Kong people should … be proud of the achievements of the motherland and all the progress our country has made,’’ enthused Li Li, a guide at a governmentsponsored exhibit about China’s space programme that has been erected in Victoria Park to coincide with this week’s party.

Many more have greeted the anniversary and Xi’s visit with nonchalance.

Chu estimated that about a third of the population was split between pro-democracy and progovernment supporters. The rest ‘‘couldn’t care less’’ about the anniversary, and were most worried about the traffic jams caused by the massive security operation to protect Xi.

Lee said the lack of omnipresent propaganda, is also genuine patriotic interest many young people felt towards Xi’s visit underlined how disconnected they felt from mainland China and how Beijing’s policies had lost it ‘‘hearts and souls’’.

‘‘‘Oh, this is the ruler of a neighbouring country’ – that’s what they feel,’’ he said, pointing to a recent poll suggesting that only 3 per cent of 18- to 29-year-olds consider themselves to be Chinese, the lowest rate since 1997.

‘‘The young people want democracy. They don’t want to be brainwashed.’’

For all the indifference and uncertainty, Hong Kong’s protest movement appears to be in a buoyant mood.

Last September, a record number of young anti-Beijing activists were elected to Hong Kong’s legislative council, or Legco, in what one victor called a democratic ‘‘miracle’’.

However, many could now be forced from office, mostly because of government legal challenges over protests the activists made while being sworn in last year.

‘‘If two to three of them lose their seats, then the whole political balance will change totally, and then Beijing will have absolute control of this legislature,’’ warned Chu, who shouted ‘‘Democracy and self-determination’’ and ‘‘Tyranny must die’’ while taking his oath.

Pepper said she was not optimistic that Beijing would offer concessions to activists, even though Hong Kong’s incoming leader has pledged to ‘‘heal the divide’’ and build bridges. ‘‘This is a bridge between democracy and dictatorship. How she is going to bridge that, I don’t know.’’

Chris Patten, Hong Kong’s last governor, offered a more upbeat appraisal of the city he once ran, saying he was encouraged by the ‘‘really profound sense of citizenship’’ of its young activists.

Sitting in his chambers, between a bust of Winston Churchill and a statuette of the Goddess of Democracy, the symbol of the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests, Lee remembers strolling through the umbrella movement’s main camp, a sprawl of tents and political debate, three days before police finally cleared it, in December 2015.

‘‘There were two little birds singing on the ground. [It was as if they were saying:] ‘I wish I were free’, you know? The air was fresh. I miss those days.’’