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(Thread IKs: fart simpson)
 
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AnimeIsTrash
Jun 30, 2018

dont care about d&d tbqh

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Lady Militant
Apr 8, 2020

The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles.

my dad posted:

Alright, I'll probably repost this in the Europe(an Union) thread too.

In the recent years, Serbia's coal industry got hosed up pretty badly by various hazards and disasters, and our power production suffered pretty badly for it. As an added bonus, coal production this year is on the lower end of what could have been expected in the conditions. With the ongoing trade clusterfuck, we've started importing a lot of power, and it's likely that it's going to significantly escalate when winter hits. We're already experiencing major food price hikes, and the first signs of shortages of basic produce. (it's still not particularly bad, but you're starting to see things like all the stores in an area running out of milk mid-day, etc). The national power company is offering (additional) reduction of power bills for people who drop their power consumption by a certain percentage over the next few months, relative to their prior power spending, but the implication inbetween the lines is that the price is going to go up in general for everyone.

One of the options being brought up by our government (in a way that a lot of poo poo 'options' were brought up in before being implemented) is a loan from the IMF, in exchange for them getting to decide how our national power infrastructure is run. For ideas on what happens when IMF makes deals like that with countries in the Balkans, you are free to look at what happened in Greece.
The recent media storm about Kosovo fits this in nicely with the cycle of europe/nato making GBS threads on us out of nowhere, followed by our government puffing up as the world's greatest patriots who'd never do what the eu tells them, followed by some sort of loud deescalation broadcasted everywhere, and a quiet surrender of yet another part of our economy that never gets mentioned outside of the country and is heavily downplayed within it. Especially when I consider how laser-focused the EU was on loving with our energy sector ever since the war in Ukraine begun.


poo poo's gonna get ugly this winter. Very ugly. And if the IMF deal goes through, it's gonna stay ugly.

Based on some googling you guys have a lotta cobalt. maybe you could parlay that into getting some experimental cobalt reactors setup or something idk just spit balling ideas here. ill call whoever is in charge of serbia after i get off work to pitch them on it.

In Training
Jun 28, 2008

AnimeIsTrash posted:

dont care about d&d tbqh

yup. If I did, I'd read it .

genericnick
Dec 26, 2012

gradenko_2000 posted:

it would be funny if China developing an inhaled vaccine actually lets them Open Biden

Seems unlikely. For the simple reason that Covid isn't in a fitness trap so you have no idea if your cool new vaccine will still be good enough in half a year's time when all rats in China are an animal reservoir.

Hungry
Jul 14, 2006

Sometimes I assume this thread is exaggerating about the D&D thread. They can't be that bad, right?

But no, I go over there and check and they're blood-gargling monsters throwing a tantrum because they want to watch millions of people die of a preventable disease.

Tankbuster
Oct 1, 2021
CHUD is a good and fun movie.

AnimeIsTrash
Jun 30, 2018

Hungry posted:

Sometimes I assume this thread is exaggerating about the D&D thread. They can't be that bad, right?

But no, I go over there and check and they're blood-gargling monsters throwing a tantrum because they want to watch millions of people die of a preventable disease.

It's really bad but rehashing in this thread over and over is really played out and boring.

i say swears online
Mar 4, 2005

AnimeIsTrash posted:

It's really bad but rehashing in this thread over and over is really played out and boring.

syq

Neurolimal
Nov 3, 2012
covid's over, its endemic, we have enough vaccines, china needs to become reasonable

Now if you'll excuse me, my triple vaxxed mom is working through breakthrough COVID, currently coughing like crazy, sure it will be fine, small price to pay for freedom

Orange Devil
Oct 1, 2010

Wullie's reign cannae smother the flames o' equality!

sexpig by night posted:

remember when 'it's just the flu bro, we gotta accept it and move on' was dangerous rhetoric only said by psychos who want to kill grandma and not literally what the core lib view is including hilarious poo poo like going full anti-mask with the first lady saying 'doesn't the air taste better without masks on?' shortly before she and Joe got covid like five times?

Lmao brush your drat teeth

Dr. Jerrold Coe
Feb 6, 2021

Is it me?

Tankbuster posted:

CHUD is a good and fun movie.

Sequel's good too

Grapplejack
Nov 27, 2007

Dr. Jerrold Coe posted:

Sequel's good too

Based chud 2 colon bud the chud enjoyer

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

https://mobile.twitter.com/KenRoth/status/1567226407029178374

and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :)

...


and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :catstare:

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

meanwhile in west asia news

https://mobile.twitter.com/nivayau/status/1567160614212046848

very nice

mawarannahr
May 21, 2019

Some Guy TT posted:

https://mobile.twitter.com/KenRoth/status/1567226407029178374

and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :)

...


and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :catstare:

importantly that sentence is preceded with “As I learned from one party insider whom I cannot name for fear of getting him in trouble,”


fun article. [Asia/Oceania] When Xi took the reins, many in the West hailed him as a Chinese Mikhail Gorbachev.

indigi
Jul 20, 2004

how can we not talk about family
when family's all that we got?

why does she conclude that Bortat can make Xi stop doing genocide

Grapplejack
Nov 27, 2007

Some Guy TT posted:

https://mobile.twitter.com/KenRoth/status/1567226407029178374

and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :)

...


and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :catstare:

Americans have forgotten how politics work lol

stephenthinkpad
Jan 2, 2020

Some Guy TT posted:

https://mobile.twitter.com/KenRoth/status/1567226407029178374

and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :)

...


and this is bad because the official wasnt actually corrupt right :catstare:




This author, Cai Xia, you can look her up.

She was a professor in Central Party School. Came to US a couple years ago on her child's family visa and started bad mouthing the CCP. Most of her articles have weak teeth. Also China promptly froze her retirement (ohsnap.gif)

You know the congress passed so many "forbidding CPC party members coming to US" laws since trump, you question how did she get the visa in the first place.

stephenthinkpad
Jan 2, 2020

Tankbuster posted:

CHUD is a good and fun movie.

I'm imagining a RRR sequel called CHUD with a ridiculous Arnold handshake as the movie logo.

Lostconfused
Oct 1, 2008

https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E7%9F%B3%E6%B2%B9%E3%82%B3%E3%83%B3%E3%83%93%E3%83%8A%E3%83%BC%E3%83%88

quote:

石油コンビナート (sekiyu konbinat) is an industrial area in which raw materials, fuels, and plant facilities are systematically and organically linked and arranged to improve the productivity of each other's oil-related companies. Modeled after the "kombinat" (Russian: комбинат [kəm⁽ʲ⁾bʲɪˈnat]) formed by the Soviet Union for industrialization In Japan, after World War II, petrochemical complexes were developed in various parts of the country due to the development of the petrochemical industry. Also called petrochemical kombinat.

huh, did not know that.

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

https://twitter.com/annafifield/status/1567262973412134915

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

https://twitter.com/juwonreports/status/1566976786516574209

Ghost Leviathan
Mar 2, 2017

Exploration is ill-advised.

Grapplejack posted:

Americans have forgotten how politics work lol

they have been taught wrong, on purpose, as a joke

this allusion meant
Apr 9, 2006

indigi posted:

why does she conclude that Bortat can make Xi stop doing genocide

kazakhstan is a valued partner in important belt and road rail links and other projects. unlike almost every other country accusing china of stuff, people in kazakhstan and the other central asian states have family across the border who they complain about not having heard from (mostly because calling a lot of people outside the country in languages the cops don't know too well is a great way to get the attention of said cops, rather than those people actually having been detained, but still). central asian states have done a lot of renegotiating on belt and road deals because the population and business community perceive their governments as having been too favorable to beijing early on, and while that's fine in theory, it could go too far and make very important projects non-viable. so they have organic motive and intrinsic means. on the flip side their government thinks the west tried to back a coup against them and that china is a reliable supporter in that regard

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

another flip side is that kazakhstan much like any other country with a significant uyghur minority doesnt really want to see uyghur isis become a thing and have been willing to view the camps sympathetically because theyre a big reason why uyghur isis didnt happen despite their pulling off some fairly significant terrorist attacks

Slim Jim Pickens
Jan 16, 2012
None of the former SSRs in Central Asia are fans of Islamists, despite varying degrees of strange politics


Some Guy TT posted:

another flip side is that kazakhstan much like any other country with a significant uyghur minority doesnt really want to see uyghur isis become a thing and have been willing to view the camps sympathetically because theyre a big reason why uyghur isis didnt happen despite their pulling off some fairly significant terrorist attacks

You do know that ISIS' whole thing was being supranational right

indigi
Jul 20, 2004

how can we not talk about family
when family's all that we got?

Slim Jim Pickens posted:

You do know that ISIS' whole thing was being supranational right

do you think Uyghur separatist terrorists' ambitions end conclusively at Xinjiang's borders

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

https://twitter.com/themainichi/status/1566986756909854720

strange feelings re Daisy
Aug 2, 2000

At this rate they will build a statue of the assassin. Does Japan have an equivalent to murder ballads?

KomradeX
Oct 29, 2011

How'd they do im that election? Becuase if they did really well in it, its kind of weird that only after the fact did they realize Abe sucks and that cult is weird

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

very well actually it owns that japan did a real life version of the cliche plot about an assassination or terrorist plot being used to help an unpopular candidate win an election only for the situation to immediately go to poo poo because people became pissed as hell once they realized they were tricked and the candidate still sucks

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

For most of the Brit­ish colo­nial era, which began in the 1840s, people moved eas­ily between China and Hong Kong, and most thought of them­selves as Chinese. The cre­ation of the People’s Repub­lic cut these ties, caus­ing a one-way flow of refugees escap­ing the Com­mun­ist regime. A new post­war gen­er­a­tion of people with no dir­ect exper­i­ence of China began to think of them­selves as Hèun­g­góngyàhn, or Hong Kongers.

As Hung sees it, this was driven by a new middle class that developed in the late 1960s and 1970s. Unrest in 1966 high­lighted a press­ing need for social ser­vices in edu­ca­tion, health care, and social work, which the Brit­ish grudgingly provided. That cre­ated a class of local teach­ers, doc­tors, nurses, and social work­ers who com­bined with a new mana­gerial class that arose around the ter­rit­ory’s boom­ing man­u­fac­tur­ing and fin­an­cial ser­vices indus­tries. These people, along with stu­dent groups, led grass­roots move­ments for hous­ing rights, social reform, and his­toric pre­ser­va­tion, all well before the 1997 han­dover.

Dur­ing the 1980s, Hung recalls, Hong Kongers saw nearby Taiwan and South Korea demo­crat­ize but knew that their own fate was out of their hands: in 1984 Bri­tain agreed to hand the colony back to China in 1997, when its ninety-nine-year lease on a large chunk of the ter­rit­ory expired. Still, many of these new social act­iv­ists pushed for more demo­cracy before the han­dover, cul­min­at­ing in part in the 1990 Basic Law. This con­tra­dict­ory doc­u­ment allowed China to pass some sort of undefined national secur­ity law once it took con­trol but also prom­ised that Hong Kong would main­tain its sep­ar­ate polit­ical and eco­nomic sys­tem until 2047.

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Any Hong Kong observer would notice how swiftly and fun­da­ment­ally the social equi­lib­rium under­lin­ing the rel­at­ive polit­ical sta­bil­ity of pre-1997 Hong Kong unraveled under Chinese rule.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Being forced on Xinji­ang, Tibet, and other non–eth­nic Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic. Hong Kong would seem to be dif­fer­ent from these areas because, accord­ing to mod­ern racial dis­course, it is “Chinese” in the sense that its res­id­ents were his­tor­ic­ally part of the same cul­tural world as Beijing, Shang­hai, and other eth­nic­ally Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

This upbring­ing in a troubled house­hold meant that Cheung’s youth was over­whelmed by per­sonal prob­lems, so she only really engages with her homet­own rel­at­ively late in her story. It also leads her to make claims that some might dis­pute, such as that Hong Kongers had no sense of local iden­tity before the 1997 han­dover.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

But read­ers who can­not under­stand writ­ten Chinese miss out on some import­ant points.

Although her com­plaints some­times come across as repet­it­ive, this is a vivid, well-writ­ten account of how many people in Hong Kong feel betrayed. They were prom­ised fifty years of autonomy after the han­dover and thought they had another twenty­five years until China would lower the boom. Sud­denly 2047 has arrived early and their worlds are smashed.

Abook that bridges Hung’s research-driven nar­rat­ive with Cheung’s mil­len­nial elegy is Indelible City by Louisa Lim, a former BBC and NPR journ­al­ist now liv­ing in Aus­tralia. The author of a book on the Com­mun­ist Party’s efforts to erase the his­tory of the 1989 Tianan­men mas­sacre,* she now turns her atten­tion to the city where she grew up.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

*The People’s Repub­lic of Amne­sia: Tianan­men Revis­ited (Oxford Uni­versity Press, 2014); see my review in these pages, June 5, 2014.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim makes a con­vin­cing case that had the Brit­ish, for example, given

Hong Kongers Brit­ish cit­izen­ship, as they did to people liv­ing in Gibral­tar, China might have acted quite dif­fer­ently. She is also with­er­ing in her assess­ment of how the Brit­ish quashed all local efforts at demo­cracy until they had one foot out the door. That led China to view the par­tially elec­ted local par­lia­ment as a trick the Brit­ish had played on them before leav­ing.

Lim’s book is touched by a sense of loss, even while she hopes for Hong Kong’s renewal in the future:

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

Mark Clif­ford is not a nat­ive Hong Konger but lived for nearly thirty years in the city, work­ing as one of its most prom­in­ent Eng­lish-lan­guage journ­al­ists. He was a reporter at the

Far East­ern Eco­nomic Review and

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Hong Kong will be tested as the party tries to crush those who stand up to its power. Very dif­fi­cult times are bound to fol­low, and many people will suf­fer for their beliefs. But ideals of free­dom have out­las­ted every dic­tat­or­ship. Hong Kong will not be an excep­tion.

gradenko_2000
Oct 5, 2010

HELL SERPENT
Lipstick Apathy
The virgin HK pro-democracy movement

Vs the chad political assassination of a former Japanese Prime Minister

Slavvy
Dec 11, 2012

What's Chinese for John Galt?

fart simpson
Jul 2, 2005

DEATH TO AMERICA
:xickos:

Some Guy TT posted:

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

For most of the Brit­ish colo­nial era, which began in the 1840s, people moved eas­ily between China and Hong Kong, and most thought of them­selves as Chinese. The cre­ation of the People’s Repub­lic cut these ties, caus­ing a one-way flow of refugees escap­ing the Com­mun­ist regime. A new post­war gen­er­a­tion of people with no dir­ect exper­i­ence of China began to think of them­selves as Hèun­g­góngyàhn, or Hong Kongers.

As Hung sees it, this was driven by a new middle class that developed in the late 1960s and 1970s. Unrest in 1966 high­lighted a press­ing need for social ser­vices in edu­ca­tion, health care, and social work, which the Brit­ish grudgingly provided. That cre­ated a class of local teach­ers, doc­tors, nurses, and social work­ers who com­bined with a new mana­gerial class that arose around the ter­rit­ory’s boom­ing man­u­fac­tur­ing and fin­an­cial ser­vices indus­tries. These people, along with stu­dent groups, led grass­roots move­ments for hous­ing rights, social reform, and his­toric pre­ser­va­tion, all well before the 1997 han­dover.

Dur­ing the 1980s, Hung recalls, Hong Kongers saw nearby Taiwan and South Korea demo­crat­ize but knew that their own fate was out of their hands: in 1984 Bri­tain agreed to hand the colony back to China in 1997, when its ninety-nine-year lease on a large chunk of the ter­rit­ory expired. Still, many of these new social act­iv­ists pushed for more demo­cracy before the han­dover, cul­min­at­ing in part in the 1990 Basic Law. This con­tra­dict­ory doc­u­ment allowed China to pass some sort of undefined national secur­ity law once it took con­trol but also prom­ised that Hong Kong would main­tain its sep­ar­ate polit­ical and eco­nomic sys­tem until 2047.

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Any Hong Kong observer would notice how swiftly and fun­da­ment­ally the social equi­lib­rium under­lin­ing the rel­at­ive polit­ical sta­bil­ity of pre-1997 Hong Kong unraveled under Chinese rule.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Being forced on Xinji­ang, Tibet, and other non–eth­nic Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic. Hong Kong would seem to be dif­fer­ent from these areas because, accord­ing to mod­ern racial dis­course, it is “Chinese” in the sense that its res­id­ents were his­tor­ic­ally part of the same cul­tural world as Beijing, Shang­hai, and other eth­nic­ally Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

This upbring­ing in a troubled house­hold meant that Cheung’s youth was over­whelmed by per­sonal prob­lems, so she only really engages with her homet­own rel­at­ively late in her story. It also leads her to make claims that some might dis­pute, such as that Hong Kongers had no sense of local iden­tity before the 1997 han­dover.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

But read­ers who can­not under­stand writ­ten Chinese miss out on some import­ant points.

Although her com­plaints some­times come across as repet­it­ive, this is a vivid, well-writ­ten account of how many people in Hong Kong feel betrayed. They were prom­ised fifty years of autonomy after the han­dover and thought they had another twenty­five years until China would lower the boom. Sud­denly 2047 has arrived early and their worlds are smashed.

Abook that bridges Hung’s research-driven nar­rat­ive with Cheung’s mil­len­nial elegy is Indelible City by Louisa Lim, a former BBC and NPR journ­al­ist now liv­ing in Aus­tralia. The author of a book on the Com­mun­ist Party’s efforts to erase the his­tory of the 1989 Tianan­men mas­sacre,* she now turns her atten­tion to the city where she grew up.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

*The People’s Repub­lic of Amne­sia: Tianan­men Revis­ited (Oxford Uni­versity Press, 2014); see my review in these pages, June 5, 2014.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim makes a con­vin­cing case that had the Brit­ish, for example, given

Hong Kongers Brit­ish cit­izen­ship, as they did to people liv­ing in Gibral­tar, China might have acted quite dif­fer­ently. She is also with­er­ing in her assess­ment of how the Brit­ish quashed all local efforts at demo­cracy until they had one foot out the door. That led China to view the par­tially elec­ted local par­lia­ment as a trick the Brit­ish had played on them before leav­ing.

Lim’s book is touched by a sense of loss, even while she hopes for Hong Kong’s renewal in the future:

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

Mark Clif­ford is not a nat­ive Hong Konger but lived for nearly thirty years in the city, work­ing as one of its most prom­in­ent Eng­lish-lan­guage journ­al­ists. He was a reporter at the

Far East­ern Eco­nomic Review and

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Hong Kong will be tested as the party tries to crush those who stand up to its power. Very dif­fi­cult times are bound to fol­low, and many people will suf­fer for their beliefs. But ideals of free­dom have out­las­ted every dic­tat­or­ship. Hong Kong will not be an excep­tion.

agreed.

Slim Jim Pickens
Jan 16, 2012

KomradeX posted:

How'd they do im that election? Becuase if they did really well in it, its kind of weird that only after the fact did they realize Abe sucks and that cult is weird

The LDP lost seats but it's the LDP, it stayed winning. People just voted for different right-wing parties. The cult's own party did fine lmao


indigi posted:

do you think Uyghur separatist terrorists' ambitions end conclusively at Xinjiang's borders

You don't get it either, being Uyghur isn't actually integral to being an Central Asian Islamist, or even to being an "East Turkestan" separatist, as every country in the area (besides Tajikistan) is Turkic. The Kazakh government simply opposes Islamism, as do all its neighbours.

Stringent
Dec 22, 2004


image text goes here

KomradeX posted:

How'd they do im that election? Becuase if they did really well in it, its kind of weird that only after the fact did they realize Abe sucks and that cult is weird

ppl in japan are so checked out from politics in general. the resistance to the state funeral isn't a partisan issue, it's just seen as a waste of money and an annoyance.

Buck Wildman
Mar 30, 2010

I am Metango, Galactic Governor


Some Guy TT posted:

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

For most of the Brit­ish colo­nial era, which began in the 1840s, people moved eas­ily between China and Hong Kong, and most thought of them­selves as Chinese. The cre­ation of the People’s Repub­lic cut these ties, caus­ing a one-way flow of refugees escap­ing the Com­mun­ist regime. A new post­war gen­er­a­tion of people with no dir­ect exper­i­ence of China began to think of them­selves as Hèun­g­góngyàhn, or Hong Kongers.

As Hung sees it, this was driven by a new middle class that developed in the late 1960s and 1970s. Unrest in 1966 high­lighted a press­ing need for social ser­vices in edu­ca­tion, health care, and social work, which the Brit­ish grudgingly provided. That cre­ated a class of local teach­ers, doc­tors, nurses, and social work­ers who com­bined with a new mana­gerial class that arose around the ter­rit­ory’s boom­ing man­u­fac­tur­ing and fin­an­cial ser­vices indus­tries. These people, along with stu­dent groups, led grass­roots move­ments for hous­ing rights, social reform, and his­toric pre­ser­va­tion, all well before the 1997 han­dover.

Dur­ing the 1980s, Hung recalls, Hong Kongers saw nearby Taiwan and South Korea demo­crat­ize but knew that their own fate was out of their hands: in 1984 Bri­tain agreed to hand the colony back to China in 1997, when its ninety-nine-year lease on a large chunk of the ter­rit­ory expired. Still, many of these new social act­iv­ists pushed for more demo­cracy before the han­dover, cul­min­at­ing in part in the 1990 Basic Law. This con­tra­dict­ory doc­u­ment allowed China to pass some sort of undefined national secur­ity law once it took con­trol but also prom­ised that Hong Kong would main­tain its sep­ar­ate polit­ical and eco­nomic sys­tem until 2047.

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Any Hong Kong observer would notice how swiftly and fun­da­ment­ally the social equi­lib­rium under­lin­ing the rel­at­ive polit­ical sta­bil­ity of pre-1997 Hong Kong unraveled under Chinese rule.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Being forced on Xinji­ang, Tibet, and other non–eth­nic Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic. Hong Kong would seem to be dif­fer­ent from these areas because, accord­ing to mod­ern racial dis­course, it is “Chinese” in the sense that its res­id­ents were his­tor­ic­ally part of the same cul­tural world as Beijing, Shang­hai, and other eth­nic­ally Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

This upbring­ing in a troubled house­hold meant that Cheung’s youth was over­whelmed by per­sonal prob­lems, so she only really engages with her homet­own rel­at­ively late in her story. It also leads her to make claims that some might dis­pute, such as that Hong Kongers had no sense of local iden­tity before the 1997 han­dover.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

But read­ers who can­not under­stand writ­ten Chinese miss out on some import­ant points.

Although her com­plaints some­times come across as repet­it­ive, this is a vivid, well-writ­ten account of how many people in Hong Kong feel betrayed. They were prom­ised fifty years of autonomy after the han­dover and thought they had another twenty­five years until China would lower the boom. Sud­denly 2047 has arrived early and their worlds are smashed.

Abook that bridges Hung’s research-driven nar­rat­ive with Cheung’s mil­len­nial elegy is Indelible City by Louisa Lim, a former BBC and NPR journ­al­ist now liv­ing in Aus­tralia. The author of a book on the Com­mun­ist Party’s efforts to erase the his­tory of the 1989 Tianan­men mas­sacre,* she now turns her atten­tion to the city where she grew up.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

*The People’s Repub­lic of Amne­sia: Tianan­men Revis­ited (Oxford Uni­versity Press, 2014); see my review in these pages, June 5, 2014.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim makes a con­vin­cing case that had the Brit­ish, for example, given

Hong Kongers Brit­ish cit­izen­ship, as they did to people liv­ing in Gibral­tar, China might have acted quite dif­fer­ently. She is also with­er­ing in her assess­ment of how the Brit­ish quashed all local efforts at demo­cracy until they had one foot out the door. That led China to view the par­tially elec­ted local par­lia­ment as a trick the Brit­ish had played on them before leav­ing.

Lim’s book is touched by a sense of loss, even while she hopes for Hong Kong’s renewal in the future:

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

Mark Clif­ford is not a nat­ive Hong Konger but lived for nearly thirty years in the city, work­ing as one of its most prom­in­ent Eng­lish-lan­guage journ­al­ists. He was a reporter at the

Far East­ern Eco­nomic Review and

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Hong Kong will be tested as the party tries to crush those who stand up to its power. Very dif­fi­cult times are bound to fol­low, and many people will suf­fer for their beliefs. But ideals of free­dom have out­las­ted every dic­tat­or­ship. Hong Kong will not be an excep­tion.

oic

Cerebral Bore
Apr 21, 2010


Fun Shoe

Some Guy TT posted:

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

In Novem­ber 2019 some one thou­sand young pro-demo­cracy pro­test­ers occu­pied the cam­pus of Hong Kong’s Poly­tech­nic Uni­versity, which is loc­ated at a cru­cial junc­tion of two high­ways and the cross-har­bor tun­nel. They dis­rup­ted traffic for more than a week, try­ing to pres­sure the gov­ern­ment to invest­ig­ate police mis­con­duct dur­ing large-scale protests earlier in the year. On Novem­ber 17 they repulsed police efforts to storm the cam­pus. The police threatened to use live ammuni­tion but decided to starve them out instead.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

What happened on the fol­low­ing morn­ing was a remark­able show of civic cour­age. Tens of thou­sands of Hong Kong res­id­ents tried to deliver sup­plies to the pro­test­ers. Police pushed them back, but they still found ways of res­cuing the young people. Motor­cyc­lists raced under a ped­es­trian bridge to pick up some who had climbed down on ropes. Civil engin­eers used maps of the sewage sys­tem and tidal tables to fig­ure out when oth­ers could escape through the enorm­ous under­ground tun­nels without drown­ing. In the end, only one hun­dred of the pro­test­ers had to sur­render to police.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

The polit­ical sci­ent­ist Ho-fung Hung recounts this epis­ode in City on the Edge, a timely and care­fully researched exposé of how China botched its stew­ard­ship of Hong Kong after tak­ing over the Brit­ish colony in 1997. It had prom­ised fifty years of con­sid­er­able autonomy that would leave in place many of the freedoms the pros­per­ous region had enjoyed under the Brit­ish. But instead Beijing installed a suc­ces­sion of barely com­pet­ent lead­ers who tried to ram through unpop­u­lar meas­ures meant to bring the city of 7.5 mil­lion more firmly under Chinese con­trol. That spurred two dec­ades of protests cul­min­at­ing in the 2019 upris­ing. Des­pite wide­spread pop­u­lar sup­port for the protests—sev­eral of half a mil­lion or more par­ti­cipants—Beijing even­tu­ally got its way. This was made clear in late June, when the Chinese leader Xi Jin­ping traveled to Hong Kong to cel­eb­rate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the han­dover—a trip that showed how the city’s once-thriv­ing cul­ture of polit­ical engage­ment, its inde­pend­ent media, and its judi­ciary have been oblit­er­ated.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

Hung is a pro­fessor at Johns Hop­kins who grew up and was edu­cated in Hong Kong. His book is one of sev­eral recently pub­lished by people with long ties to Hong Kong who struggle to make sense of the cata­strophe that has befallen it. Each gives a kal­eido­scopic view of the many real­it­ies of a city that long sat on the edge of two empires: the great land empire of the Qing and its even­tual suc­cessor, the People’s Repub­lic of China, and the Brit­ish oceanic empire and its suc­cessor in the Amer­ican-led world trad­ing sys­tem. This geo­graphy meant that Hong Kong was a bor­der­land but also a bridge between a semiclosed com­mand eco­nomy to its north and for­eign com­mer­cial empires across the seas—a bridge that grew into one of the world’s great fin­an­cial and com­mer­cial cen­ters.

For most of the Brit­ish colo­nial era, which began in the 1840s, people moved eas­ily between China and Hong Kong, and most thought of them­selves as Chinese. The cre­ation of the People’s Repub­lic cut these ties, caus­ing a one-way flow of refugees escap­ing the Com­mun­ist regime. A new post­war gen­er­a­tion of people with no dir­ect exper­i­ence of China began to think of them­selves as Hèun­g­góngyàhn, or Hong Kongers.

As Hung sees it, this was driven by a new middle class that developed in the late 1960s and 1970s. Unrest in 1966 high­lighted a press­ing need for social ser­vices in edu­ca­tion, health care, and social work, which the Brit­ish grudgingly provided. That cre­ated a class of local teach­ers, doc­tors, nurses, and social work­ers who com­bined with a new mana­gerial class that arose around the ter­rit­ory’s boom­ing man­u­fac­tur­ing and fin­an­cial ser­vices indus­tries. These people, along with stu­dent groups, led grass­roots move­ments for hous­ing rights, social reform, and his­toric pre­ser­va­tion, all well before the 1997 han­dover.

Dur­ing the 1980s, Hung recalls, Hong Kongers saw nearby Taiwan and South Korea demo­crat­ize but knew that their own fate was out of their hands: in 1984 Bri­tain agreed to hand the colony back to China in 1997, when its ninety-nine-year lease on a large chunk of the ter­rit­ory expired. Still, many of these new social act­iv­ists pushed for more demo­cracy before the han­dover, cul­min­at­ing in part in the 1990 Basic Law. This con­tra­dict­ory doc­u­ment allowed China to pass some sort of undefined national secur­ity law once it took con­trol but also prom­ised that Hong Kong would main­tain its sep­ar­ate polit­ical and eco­nomic sys­tem until 2047.

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Before the han­dover, protests and pres­sure actions were often mild and polite: candle­light vigils, peti­tions, but little con­front­a­tion, which led to the ste­reo­type that Hong Kongers were apolit­ical and mainly inter­ested in earn­ing money. This was mis­taken, but the Brit­ish admin­is­tra­tion did man­age to bal­ance the pro-demo­cracy forces in Hong Kong soci­ety and keep it rel­at­ively peace­ful and pros­per­ous. In part, this was because those forces were only gath­er­ing steam and not yet as potent as they would become, but it is also true that the Brit­ish ruled with a rel­at­ively light touch. In Hung’s telling, this his­tory is what made the sub­sequent mil­it­ancy so jar­ring:

Any Hong Kong observer would notice how swiftly and fun­da­ment­ally the social equi­lib­rium under­lin­ing the rel­at­ive polit­ical sta­bil­ity of pre-1997 Hong Kong unraveled under Chinese rule.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

A com­bat­ive protest cul­ture arose after the han­dover, demand­ing more demo­cracy and the pro­tec­tion of the lim­ited rights that cit­izens enjoyed. The Brit­ish had never con­ferred full demo­cracy on Hong Kong but had left it with a par­tially elec­ted legis­lat­ive coun­cil, a fairly free press, and an inde­pend­ent judi­ciary. Without these insti­tu­tions, many Hong Kongers real­ized that they would become just another big Chinese city with cen­sor­ship, arbit­rary arrests, and no pro­tec­tion from gov­ern­ment power. Busi­nesses also wor­ried that the loss of rights would under­mine prosper­ity by politi­ciz­ing busi­ness dis­putes and hurt­ing the city’s world-class fin­an­cial industry.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

It was sur­pris­ing how broad-based the sup­port was for these pro­test­ers, espe­cially in 2019. Most detain­ees were stu­dents, but front­line pro­test­ers also included doc­tors, air­line pilots, and account­ants. Opin­ion polls showed that res­id­ents con­sist­ently blamed the gov­ern­ment for escal­at­ing the con­flict.

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Beijing’s biggest error in try­ing to sub­jug­ate Hong Kong was to use what Hung calls “racial­ist nation­al­ism.” This is essen­tially what the Qing Empire used to con­trol the vast ter­rit­or­ies it acquired in the eight­eenth cen­tury, includ­ing Xinji­ang and Tibet, which more than doubled its size. Dur­ing this period, it offered these new pos­ses­sions autonomy, but the assump­tion was that this was tem­por­ary. Qing author­it­ies encour­aged Han Chinese emig­ra­tion and intro­duced Chinese cul­ture in these regions, mak­ing it the bench­mark for cor­rect assim­il­a­tion. This trend con­tin­ues today, help­ing to explain the bru­tal policies

Being forced on Xinji­ang, Tibet, and other non–eth­nic Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic. Hong Kong would seem to be dif­fer­ent from these areas because, accord­ing to mod­ern racial dis­course, it is “Chinese” in the sense that its res­id­ents were his­tor­ic­ally part of the same cul­tural world as Beijing, Shang­hai, and other eth­nic­ally Chinese parts of the People’s Repub­lic.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

But areas such as Hong Kong have also been on the mar­gins of Chinese cul­ture, zones of refuge and res­ist­ance with a lan­guage dif­fer­ent from the stand­ard Chinese (also known as Man­darin, or Putonghua) spoken pre­dom­in­antly in North China. The Cantonese ver­sion of Chinese spoken in Hong Kong and nearby regions is as dif­fer­ent from Man­darin as French is from Span­ish or Italian. People there have not neces­sar­ily felt them­selves part of the “moth­er­land” to which the author­it­ies in Beijing assume that all pat­ri­otic Hong Kongers belong.

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

Thus one of the ways that Beijing has typ­ic­ally den­ig­rated oppon­ents in Hong Kong is to call them un-Chinese. One of Hong Kong’s best-known pub­lic fig­ures, the civil ser­vant and later politi­cian Anson Chan Fang On-sang, was attacked as a “traitor to the Han race” (hanjian) and for “for­get­ting about your ancest­ors” (shudian wangzu).

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

This his­tory is also why the People’s Repub­lic did not view absorb­ing Hong Kong as a unique chal­lenge. After it took power in 1949, the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party prom­ised regions such as Tibet and Xinji­ang autonomy but quickly imposed firm con­trol. From the start, Hung reminds us, Chinese lead­ers saw these regions as tem­plates for Hong Kong’s ulti­mate assim­il­a­tion. Deng Xiaop­ing, who over­saw the 1984 agree­ment with the Brit­ish, had been in charge of the Com­mun­ist Party’s South­west­ern Bur­eau from 1949 to 1952 and was involved in nego­ti­ations with the Dalai Lama. They quickly ended when the People’s Lib­er­a­tion Army invaded Tibet in 1959, bloodily sup­press­ing Tibetan oppos­i­tion.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Dur­ing these early years of the People’s Repub­lic, the Brit­ish gingerly main­tained rela­tions with Beijing, always fear­ing an inva­sion of Hong Kong. Lon­don per­mit­ted the Chinese Com­mun­ist Party to build and main­tain author­ity over major media out­lets in the city, set up prof­it­able busi­ness oper­a­tions, and run a net­work of party cells headquartered at the Xin­hua news agency. This is one reason why China could move so swiftly after 1997 to push for firm con­trol. In 2002–2003 Beijing tried to imple­ment the anti­sub­ver­sion legis­la­tion stip­u­lated in the Basic Law, but pop­u­lar oppos­i­tion forced its with­drawal.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

Beijing’s con­clu­sion was that this defeat was due to a lack of pat­ri­ot­ism caused by 150 years of Brit­ish colo­nial rule. It pushed for more “pat­ri­otic edu­ca­tion,” which has worked sur­pris­ingly well in China to essen­tially brain­wash many young people into see­ing things the way the Com­mun­ist Party desires. The gov­ern­ment tried in 2019 to pass an extra­di­tion law, which spurred the mass protests, but these only man­aged to delay pas­sage of the law, and it took effect on June 30, 2020, lead­ing to the clamp­down that has effect­ively ended the city’s autonomy. The only sur­prise might be how long Hong Kong held out—nearly twenty-five years—which Hung ascribes to its value to China as a hub for global cap­ital. That deterred Beijing’s heavy hand, although its need for con­trol finally won out.

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

City-states like Hong Kong are not unique. Hung reminds us that Machiavelli out­lined the strategies that a prince can use to rule a free city he has recently acquired. Many of these five­hun­dred-year-old tech­niques are eer­ily sim­ilar to meth­ods employed by Beijing over the past two dec­ades: giv­ing loc­als a free hand (the ini­tial prom­ise of fifty years of autonomy); cre­at­ing a trus­ted local olig­archy to rule on behalf of the prince (the ini­tial three “chief exec­ut­ives” installed by Beijing); and— today’s method—anni­hil­at­ing local cus­toms in order to rule dir­ectly with an iron fist. (Machiavelli prefers the first and second meth­ods; the third, he writes, can become a drain, and “then the acquis­i­tion turns into a loss.”)

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Hung does not believe that Beijing’s move toward dir­ect con­trol means the end of Hong Kong’s days as a great city. In two chapters based on ori­ginal research, he chal­lenges much of the con­ven­tional wis­dom that Hong Kong has lost its pos­i­tion as China’s most import­ant fin­an­cial cen­ter. Many see in Shang­hai’s rise, for example, Hong Kong’s death knell, because Shang­hai’s stock mar­ket now has a lar­ger mar­ket cap­it­al­iz­a­tion. But Hong Kong is a far big­ger mar­ket in futures and bonds, and it offers more trans­par­ent reg­u­la­tions. It also has a broader fin­an­cial ser­vices industry, with extens­ive insur­ance, legal, and account­ing firms not found in China. Cru­cially, it has its own cur­rency as well, the Hong Kong dol­lar, which is fully con­vert­ible, while China’s ren­minbi, or yuan, is not. In essence, Hong Kong allows China to take advant­age of global mar­kets and cap­ital while keep­ing a par­tially closed eco­nomic sys­tem.

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Depend­ing on one’s fin­an­cial lit­er­acy, these two chapters might be chal­len­ging—the bar­rage of tables can per­haps be skimmed by most read­ers. But Hung makes an import­ant point: Hong Kong remains import­ant to China because the coun­try does not intend to open up com­pletely, espe­cially under its con­trol-ori­ented leader Xi Jin­ping. That means Hong Kong still has a func­tion as an air­lock between the global and the Chinese eco­nomic sys­tems, which in turn means that China might not want to com­pletely squelch all of its liber­ties: “Hong Kong is a city con­stantly on the edge. It is on the edge of great powers, on the edge of being anni­hil­ated, and on the edge of break­ing free.”

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

Hung writes well and provides excel­lent mater­ial and argu­ments, but what is it like to live in this edge city? One answer is provided by Karen Cheung’s The Impossible City, the mem­oir of a young woman grow­ing up in post-han­dover Hong Kong. Born in 1993 to a Hong Kong father and a main­land mother, Cheung moved from the Chinese city of Shen­zhen to Hong Kong when she was one year old.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

She had an epic­ally miser­able child­hood. Her father was a self-made busi­ness­man who met her mother in a Shen­zhen res­taur­ant where she was work­ing as a wait­ress. The two appear to have had noth­ing in com­mon and later split, with Cheung’s mother and younger brother mov­ing to Singa­pore. Her father sent the girl to be raised by his mother, a lov­ing but poorly edu­cated woman who had little idea of the ten­sions in her grand­daugh­ter’s life. Cheung’s father slowly lost his busi­ness and spent hours listen­ing to loud music late into the night and neg­lect­ing her. Cheung was later dia­gnosed as sui­cidal, spent time in men­tal hos­pit­als, and became addicted to pre­scrip­tion drugs. She left home at eight­een to study law at the Uni­versity of Hong Kong and spent dis­mal years liv­ing in over­crowded apart­ments.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

As a vehicle for telling us about Hong Kong, Cheung’s per­sonal story has many strengths. Although she doesn’t make this point expli­citly enough, her father’s life wasn’t unique. Many Hong Kong (and Taiwanese) busi­ness­men had affairs, chil­dren, and mar­riages dur­ing stints on the main­land, espe­cially in boomtowns like Shen­zhen dur­ing the go-go 1990s. In this sense, Cheung’s tumul­tu­ous child­hood is a product of a spe­cific era of Hong Kong his­tory, giv­ing us insight into the intense pres­sures it caused for fam­il­ies. Cheung went to an expat school for chil­dren of Singa­por­eans but later had to attend a local high school when her father ran out of money. She skill­fully con­trasts these two worlds, one of chil­dren with futures out­side Hong Kong and the other of those tied to the city.

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

Cheung ended up in the lat­ter camp, in part because, for unclear reas­ons, she renounced her Brit­ish National (Over­seas) pass­port and then lost her Singa­por­ean cit­izen­ship. As of the book’s pub­lic­a­tion she still lives in Hong Kong, and although she has a likely way out (via her hus­band, who has a for­eign pass­port), she is the only writer under review who comes across as truly bound to the city. Hers was not the world of smart expat kids or polit­ic­ally aware chil­dren of the city’s new middle class. Instead, it was the life of someone whose hori­zons never exten­ded bey­ond Hong Kong:

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

I stayed mostly in lib­rar­ies, cram­ming myself with Eng­lish lit­er­at­ure and Chinese his­tory, so I could score well enough to earn a coveted uni­versity place in Hong Kong. I lived inside tele­vi­sion shows, books, and, later, the Inter­net.

This upbring­ing in a troubled house­hold meant that Cheung’s youth was over­whelmed by per­sonal prob­lems, so she only really engages with her homet­own rel­at­ively late in her story. It also leads her to make claims that some might dis­pute, such as that Hong Kongers had no sense of local iden­tity before the 1997 han­dover.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung had her awaken­ing to Hong Kong at age twenty-one when she was in Scot­land study­ing law. She was away for just a semester, but back home the 2014 “Umbrella” protest move­ment was going on in the streets. Sud­denly she real­ized that she cared about Hong Kong more than any­thing and yearned to be part of the move­ment. She writes that she over­com­pensated for miss­ing the 2014 protests by throw­ing her­self into journ­al­ism for a few years and observing every sub­sequent protest.

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

Cheung chal­lenges read­ers who lazily look for one per­son whose story can stand in for Hong Kong’s. She grew up out­side the Mid-Levels—a for­eigner enclave halfway up the hill that dom­in­ates Hong Kong Island— but learned excel­lent Eng­lish at the expat school she atten­ded, allow­ing her to make con­nec­tions in the world of Eng­lish-lan­guage pub­lish­ing:

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

If I gave you the impres­sion that I had a lovely early twen­ties, it’s because every­one my age in late­cap­it­al­ist Hong Kong has had a lovely early twen­ties. I am not sud­denly more rep­res­ent­at­ive of Hong Kong just because I offer you a little more than life in the Mid-Levels. The fact that my father could afford to send me to an inter­na­tional school guar­an­teed my flu­ency in Eng­lish, and that in turn guar­an­teed upward mobil­ity and con­tin­ued priv­ilege.

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

These per­sonal ten­sions under­lie large sec­tions of the book. She writes for for­eign media and pub­lish­ing houses but resents hav­ing to explain Hong Kong to for­eign read­ers. She is scath­ing about expats and people who come to Hong Kong to “find them­selves,” but fell in love with it her­self after mov­ing to the west­ern dis­trict of Hong Kong Island, which has long been pop­u­lar among poorer expats. As if to res­ist the demands of out­siders to explain Hong Kong, she sprinkles the text with untrans­lated Chinese char­ac­ters. The inten­tion might be to remind us that we’re deal­ing with a world that primar­ily oper­ates in a for­eign lan­guage,

But read­ers who can­not under­stand writ­ten Chinese miss out on some import­ant points.

Although her com­plaints some­times come across as repet­it­ive, this is a vivid, well-writ­ten account of how many people in Hong Kong feel betrayed. They were prom­ised fifty years of autonomy after the han­dover and thought they had another twenty­five years until China would lower the boom. Sud­denly 2047 has arrived early and their worlds are smashed.

Abook that bridges Hung’s research-driven nar­rat­ive with Cheung’s mil­len­nial elegy is Indelible City by Louisa Lim, a former BBC and NPR journ­al­ist now liv­ing in Aus­tralia. The author of a book on the Com­mun­ist Party’s efforts to erase the his­tory of the 1989 Tianan­men mas­sacre,* she now turns her atten­tion to the city where she grew up.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

Lim’s mother was Brit­ish and pub­lished ser­i­ous research into local his­tor­ical sites, drag­ging along her chil­dren on exped­i­tions to cemeter­ies, temples, and vil­lages. Her father was a Singa­por­ean hired to work in the Hong Kong civil ser­vice. Lim’s Euras­ian her­it­age made her stick out in the United King­dom, where she lived until she was five. Hong Kong was plagued by deep well­springs of racism against Caucasian women who mar­ried Chinese men, but it was also a cos­mo­pol­itan melt­ing pot where she could feel at home.

*The People’s Repub­lic of Amne­sia: Tianan­men Revis­ited (Oxford Uni­versity Press, 2014); see my review in these pages, June 5, 2014.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim clev­erly uses the story of a slightly mad cal­li­grapher, Tsang Tsouchoi, to dis­cuss Hong Kong’s erased his­tory. Known as the King of Kowloon, Tsang was a poorly edu­cated man who claimed that his ancest­ors owned large swaths of the dis­trict of Kowloon. From the 1950s until the early 2000s, he furi­ously wrote out his claims in messy cal­li­graphy on tele­phone poles, elec­trical boxes, and any pub­lic space he could find. He lis­ted the twenty-one gen­er­a­tions of his fam­ily lin­eage, along with the lands that they had lost, and some­times added “gently caress the Queen!” for good meas­ure. Tsang’s story is skill­fully woven into the main text, which recounts the past dec­ades of his­tory, from Lim’s child­hood to her return­ing to raise a fam­ily on lim­ited means in one of the world’s most expens­ive cit­ies.

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim also makes use of ori­ginal research in the Brit­ish archives. She unearths extens­ive inter­views done by the UK-based his­tor­ian Steve Tsang, who talked to most of the major Brit­ish and local Hong Kong fig­ures in the years lead­ing up to the han­dover. His inter­views were sealed for thirty years, and Lim was one of the first to mine them, reveal­ing a dev­ast­at­ing pic­ture of how the Brit­ish bungled the nego­ti­ations: they acceded to almost all Chinese demands and did not involve even the Hong Kong elite in their dip­lomacy—although it’s unclear whether this would have made a dif­fer­ence, since China prob­ably did hold all the cards

Lim makes a con­vin­cing case that had the Brit­ish, for example, given

Hong Kongers Brit­ish cit­izen­ship, as they did to people liv­ing in Gibral­tar, China might have acted quite dif­fer­ently. She is also with­er­ing in her assess­ment of how the Brit­ish quashed all local efforts at demo­cracy until they had one foot out the door. That led China to view the par­tially elec­ted local par­lia­ment as a trick the Brit­ish had played on them before leav­ing.

Lim’s book is touched by a sense of loss, even while she hopes for Hong Kong’s renewal in the future:

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

People like me—the half-castes and mixed-bloods—had never really fit any­where, but Hong Kong’s own hybrid status had made it feel like a place where we could thrive. Now the forces that were chan­ging Hong Kong were leav­ing me behind. It was around this time I stopped call­ing myself a Hong Konger. But I didn’t really know what else I was.

Mark Clif­ford is not a nat­ive Hong Konger but lived for nearly thirty years in the city, work­ing as one of its most prom­in­ent Eng­lish-lan­guage journ­al­ists. He was a reporter at the

Far East­ern Eco­nomic Review and

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

Busi­nes­s­Week, and later editor in chief of The South China Morn­ing Post and The Stand­ard. He also served on the board of Next Digital, the com­pany foun­ded by the media tycoon Jimmy Lai, which owned the ter­rit­ory’s feisti­est news­pa­per, Apple Daily. Clif­ford left Hong Kong in 2021 when Lai was arres­ted and Next Digital crushed.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

In his new book, Today Hong Kong, Tomor­row the World, Clif­ford uses his back­ground in busi­ness journ­al­ism to give sure-footed, brisk explan­a­tions of how the city’s real estate olig­archs rig the prop­erty mar­ket. He writes scath­ingly of how the Brit­ish worked hand in hand with the busi­ness elite to sup­press pop­u­lar aspir­a­tions. And his firsthand account of Lai’s arrest is heart­felt and telling: the owner of the biggest media com­pany in Hong Kong was denied bail and paraded in shackles. Clif­ford has exchanged numer­ous let­ters with the now sev­enty­four-year-old, who remains optim­istic in prison thanks in part to his Roman Cath­olic faith.

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Like Hung, Clif­ford cau­tions against writ­ing Hong Kong’s obit­u­ary. He says that for its elite, espe­cially the new elite from the main­land, it will remain attract­ive, with world-class din­ing, spec­tac­u­lar hikes in the moun­tains, and a fam­ous sky­line and har­bor. Thanks to China’s par­tially closed eco­nomy, Hong Kong will keep a spe­cial pos­i­tion as the coun­try’s win­dow on inter­na­tional fin­an­cial mar­kets. It is no longer a free city, but Clif­ford echoes many oth­ers in a romantic but per­haps wise warn­ing not to bet against this remark­able place:

Hong Kong will be tested as the party tries to crush those who stand up to its power. Very dif­fi­cult times are bound to fol­low, and many people will suf­fer for their beliefs. But ideals of free­dom have out­las­ted every dic­tat­or­ship. Hong Kong will not be an excep­tion.

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stephenthinkpad
Jan 2, 2020
The so called state funeral wasn't planned when election was held a couple days after Abe's death. I think It's only the 2nd state funeral after ww2.

What is Abe's legacy when you think about it? The longest serving PM, over saw a mediocre recovery in the "lost decades", "Abenomics" which is not very successful, sales tax raised twice to 10%; handed the job to his butler to take the blame for Covid and failed Olympuc double whammy etc etc.

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