Hong Kong’s democrats split on how to achieve democracy and justice
By Pash Chan and Cindy Ng
“They’re starting the arrest!”
Those were the words Tam Tak-chi, a radio host and activist better known as “Fast Beat”, heard as he tried to make his way towards his fellow protesters on Queen’s Road in Central. Before he reached them, several arms lifted him straight to a squad car. Enraged protesters blocked and shook the vehicle, demanding that the police release Tam. While the police officers beside Tam looked on nervously, Tam was calm, even though he knew he may well be imprisoned for “unauthorised assembly”.
Just two blocks away on Ice House Street, a lone protester stood in the centre of the road. Legislator Leung Kwok-hung, or Long Hair, was surrounded by hundreds of policemen. As he yelled, “Leung Chun-ying!” people standing outside the police cordon shouted back, “Step down!”. After an hours-long stand-off, Leung was arrested at midnight, ending the New Year demonstrations, of striving and failing to bring about democracy, some protesters’ patience has been exhausted. Occupying public spaces, paralyzing traffic and other physical confrontations have become more frequent.
For them, working for political reform in the Legislative Council (LegCo) is just a naïve dream. Only half of the seats are elected by one-person-one-vote through geographical constituencies, while the other half are elected through “small circle” functional constituencies. The system consistently gives the pro-establishment camp an upper hand, even though it does not win as many votes as the pan-democrats. The advantage is compounded by the split-voting mechanism which means that private members’ bills and motions must be passed by a majority of lawmakers from both sets of constituencies.
Frustration over the limits of what can be achieved within the system has sparked debate over whether the quest for democracy needs to be fought outside of the system instead. The question has split the pan-democratic camp and its supporters and extends to the debate in the media and among ordinary citizens.
“[The traditional pan-democrats] despise the system because they know it is defective. On the other hand, they insist on fighting for democracy through it. This is illogical,” Leung Kwok-hung says. “Either they are fooling the people, or they are fooling themselves.”
Leung believes the only way to abolish the unfair system is for protests to intensify. Ever since entering the legislature in 2004, Leung has been famous, or infamous, for deliberately breaking rules, from throwing bananas and letting off helium balloons inside the LegCo chamber to carrying paper coffins to functions he was invited to attend as a legislative councillor. He was also an organiser of the filibuster to derail government policy.
For the legislator who won the most votes in his geographical constituency in the 2012 LegCo election, it may seem ironic that Leung views LegCo as just a platform to create noise. But he believes every time he steals the spotlight in meetings through his disruptive behaviour, he makes a slight difference.
“Similarly, any single protest cannot correct our society, but you would still take part. Every protest is to accumulate the power for changes,” Leung says.
His commitment to his cause has landed seven days for disrupting a LegCo session with then Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa. Before he was charged with unlawful assembly in the New Year protest, he was already appealing a two-month jail term for disrupting public order during protests at a 2011 consultation over government plans to scrap by-elections for vacant LegCo seats.
But while Leung’s protests may be physical, he says they are not violent.
“The one kind of violence [I used] is sacrificing myself,” says Leung.
The concept of civil disobedience is not new. There are many examples from history of successful movements in which protesters adopted a non-violent approach to violate certain laws. They intended to bear the legal responsibilities of their actions to highlight the injustice of the laws or systems.
Examples include the suffragettes who chained themselves to railings to win the vote for women in Britain at the turn of the 20th century, the campaigns against British rule in India led by Gandhi, the bus boycott in the American Civil Rights Movement and the acts of civil disobedience that spread through Arab countries in the Arab Spring 2011.
In Hong Kong, one of the most controversial laws is the Public Order Ordinance, which requires organisers of any public procession with more than 30 people to obtain a “Letter of No Objection” from the police. Some activists believe this violates the freedom of expression and fosters political prosecution. Their refusal to apply for the authorisation is a kind of civil disobedience. Other significant movements include campaigns to withhold a small portion of tax and pirate radio broadcasts.
All this could reach another level if Benny Tai Yiu-ting gets his way. The associate professor in the Faculty of Law at the University of Hong Kong, sees the possibility of larger scale resistance in Hong Kong based on his research on institutional rule and democratic transition in other regions.
In January, Tai wrote a commentary titled “The Deadliest Weapons of Civil Disobedience” calling on 10,000 citizens to block major roads in Central to paralyse the financial hub. Tai says the current chases and standoffs with police are too disorganised to be effective.
“We must have something more powerful, a more powerful weapon, in our own hands to allow us to put pressure on Beijing government to give us real universal suffrage for the Chief Executive and Legislative Council,” Tai says.
Tai says the power of the weapon would not be measured by the number of protesters but by their level of commitment. He says the participants must make a solemn declaration that they will bear the legal responsibility for the unauthorised assembly. He, for one, is ready to be prosecuted.
“You have to ask yourselves do you want democracy in Hong Kong? If you want that, do you want to pay the price for it? There is no cheap democracy,” Tai says.
It may seem unthinkable that a legal scholar would ask people to break the law. But Tai believes that complying with the law is just the superficial meaning of rule of law. The highest goal is to achieve justice.
“In a case where all the channels to change the law through lawful means have been exhausted, civil disobedience plays a role,” he says.
How many people would agree that point has arrived, and would be willing to participate, is still uncertain.
Residents along rally routes complain about the noise and inconvenience. Shopkeepers grumble about the loss of business. Household audiences sitting in front of their televisions withdraw their support for protesters when they see pepper spray and hear foul language.
“The pro-establishment media detach [the radical protesters] from the public. It turns out that the more radical the movements are, the more support the police authority and the government gain,” says Daisy Chan Sin-ying, vice-convener of Civil Human Rights Front.
Chan, then a student, was charged with disruption of public order in 2011 in the same case as Long Hair. Currently working as a researcher in the Labour Party, the 23-year-old says she now has a clearer idea of the strategies needed to win democracy.
“Frankly, Hong Kong people are not prepared for sacrificing more for democracy,” Chan says. “Take the New Year Demonstration as an example; if the protesters had persevered, Long Hair would not have stood there alone.”
She also thinks different parties have different roles to play. Students and NGOs should go further so politicians will have chips to bargain with because, “politicians, no matter how radical they may seem… are confined by the institution itself.”
Chan believes it is vital that political parties, social advocates and the general public work together. Therefore, she is disheartened by the recriminations among the pan-democrats.
The great rupture traces back to 2010 when the Democratic Party refused to join a move to stage a de facto referendum on universal suffrage by resigning and forcing by-elections in the five geographical constituencies. Instead, the party supported the government’s watered-down plans for gradual democratisation after a secretive liaison with Beijing. This left many supporters disappointed, and some members left.
Although he did not leave, Au Nok-hin a 25-year-old district councillor, supported the referendum and disagreed with the party’s compromise.
“Some demand direct and radical means so they supported the referendum, while some believe Beijing will not allow democracy in Hong Kong, if there is no contact with the central government, so [we] need to lobby Beijing,” Au says. “Up till now, no one can really prove which path is correct.”
From his dealings with ordinary people as a district councillor, Au believes there is little support for radical protests among the public, as they have failed to get their messages across.
Although the electoral system is unfair, Au disagrees the pan-democrats should give up on the system entirely.
“As a person who embraces democracy, one should increase pressure on the government with objections, instead of completely destroying the government,” Au says.
He is frustrated when the Democratic Party is constantly attacked and says the dispute between radical democrats and moderate democrats weakens the overall bargaining power of the camp.
However, outspoken social activist Wong Yeung-tat disagrees. Wong who narrowly missed out on a LegCo seat in the 2012 election as a candidate for People Power, went after the Democratic Party during his campaign.
“Democratic Party believes political reform can only be realised with Beijing’s consent… But Beijing’ definition of universal suffrage clashes with ours,” Wong says.
The former screenwriter says the “betrayal” of the Democratic Party is what motivated him to take part in politics. In two years he has become a distinct political icon due to his frank and populist style.
The chairperson of the Civic Party and former legislator, Audrey Eu Yuet-mee, says disputes between political parties are very natural, “We all believe in democracy and different ways to attain it… What I hope to see is that we respect each other.”
Eu says the journey to political reform is strenuous and that after all these years, some people give in and others resort to extreme means.
As a barrister, Eu is cautious about civil disobedience. She says people must have overwhelming support for it and a thorough understanding of it before it should be undertaken. She warns that it is hard to build up public opinion as Hong Kong’s aspirations for democracy have been constantly let down.
“It is hard to relight the spirit… When I ran for the 2000 election, I really thought there would be universal suffrage in 2006 and 2007. We are disappointed again and again,” Eu says.
“But articles like Tai’s is crucial, as people will recall it when the time finally comes.”
Sitting in his university office, filled with law books and tomes on democratic theory, the softly spoken scholar has stepped out of his ivory tower and is willing to take his place on the street.
“I am not a politician. I have no intention of being a politician. But I have a democracy dream… I think a lot of Hong Kong people share the dream. And I have dreamt the dream for 30 years,” says Tai.
A few weeks after Fast Beat and Long Hair were arrested, another protest is taking place on the streets of Central. The protesters are singing the song Do You Hear the People Sing? from the hit musical Les Miserables. The question is, with whom will the people stand, Jean Valjean the virtuous convict of the story or Javert the police officer who strictly follows the law of authoritarian rule?
Edited by Rene Lam
