'The cremation of Hong Kong’s freedoms', Benedict Rogers

It was only a matter of time before the last bastion — the Democratic Party — fell

The decision by the Democratic Party of Hong Kong — the city’s oldest and largest pro-democracy party — to disband marks not the final nail in the coffin of Hong Kong’s freedoms, but rather its cremation.

The final nails were hammered in over the past five years, with the imposition of Beijing’s draconian national security law in 2020 and the additional domestic security law last year.

Many other nails have been hammered in with the arrest and imprisonment of more than 1,000 political prisoners, and the notorious trials of pro-democracy entrepreneur Jimmy Lai, the 47 pro-democracy legislators and activists, and individuals such as barrister Chow Hang-tung.

The near-total crackdown on freedom of expression, assembly and association, the closure of almost all of Hong Kong’s independent media and civil society, and the impacts on academic freedom, religious freedom and cultural freedom have been clear for some time.

The pro-democracy camp was kicked out of the legislative council in 2020, and in the so-called “elections” in 2021 — which I call “selections” — only candidates who could prove their loyalty to Beijing could run.

The legislature — once a semi-democratic body that contained a vocal opposition — is now nothing more than a puppet, quisling, zombie rubber-stamp subsidiary of Beijing’s National People’s Congress.

Over the past five years, Hong Kong has been transformed dramatically and rapidly from what was once one of Asia’s most open cities into one of the region’s most repressive police states.

In Hong Kong today, wearing a T-shirt of the “wrong” color politically, or singing a song that is politically provocative, can land you in jail.

Books – as in all authoritarian societies – are regarded as dangerous.

Unlike in Mao’s Cultural Revolution, Stalin’s Soviet Union, or Hitler’s Nazi Germany, books in Hong Kong have not yet been burned. But they have been removed from the shelves of libraries and shops, and banned.

Social media posts are monitored, and even a “like” — let alone a comment — could be used as prosecution evidence in court.

So it was only a matter of time before the last bastion — the Democratic Party — would fall.

That is why its closure is more symbolic than substantial, for it has been unable to operate as a meaningful political party for the past five years.

Its decision to shut down marks the firing up of the cremation oven.

And yet for that very reason, it is heartbreaking.

When I moved to Hong Kong as a fresh graduate straight out of university in September 1997, two months after the handover and beginning my first job as a journalist, I was full of hope for the experiment of “one country, two systems.”

I tested the concept regularly, by writing articles in Hong Kong’s media critical of Beijing and the Hong Kong government, leading demonstrations about Indonesia’s massacres in East Timor, speaking regularly at the Foreign Correspondents Club, and often meeting with some of the leading lights of the Democratic Party.

In so doing, I felt that Hong Kong’s promised autonomy, freedoms, and rule of law were robust.

And I was always inspired by the Democrats.

They were moderates — lawyers, journalists, academics — who seemed eminently intelligent and reasonable.

If I were in the dictatorship in Beijing, I could not wish for a more reasonable interlocuter than the Democrats in Hong Kong. They held to their principles, but they argued logically and eschewed violence or secession.

Beijing’s intransigence and refusal to compromise with the Democrats led to more radical action in Hong Kong in 2019.

Younger protesters grew frustrated both with Beijing’s refusal to listen and with the Democrats’ moderation, and a small minority resorted to extreme action — violence, arson, and “revolution.”

That was never inevitable, but completely understandable.

Suppose Carrie Lam, when she was chief executive, had conceded to the demands of a million peaceful protesters in the summer of 2019. In that case, Hong Kong’s descent into a total police state may not have been averted but it may have been delayed. Some time might have been bought.

The Democrats’ closure is yet another dark day for Hong Kong.

And it comes in a dark week, as authorities pressure family members of exiled activist Carmen Lau and send threatening letters to exiled activist Tony Chung.

Both individuals have bounties on their heads and arrest warrants issued for them by the Hong Kong authorities. Transnational repression is real — Beijing is not only shutting down freedoms and human rights in Hong Kong but directly trying to silence critics way beyond its borders.

The good news is most of us won’t be silenced.

I have experienced a campaign of harassment over the past seven years involving threatening letters to me, my neighbors and my relatives, emails, abuse on social media and a threat of a prison sentence, but this has only served to embolden me to accelerate the fight.

The same is true of others.

As for me, I have nothing to lose as I do not have relatives or assets in Hong Kong and can no longer visit the city anyway. For Hong Kong exiles with family members in the city, the risks and losses are far greater.

I am proud to have met many of the founders of Hong Kong’s  Democratic Party over the years. Several of them are my friends.

It’s a sign of how dark the times are that I will not even name them now in person — because I do not want to endanger them.

But they know who they are, and so do you: and we should all salute them for their courage and contribution.

They will be remembered in history — and when, one day, Hong Kong is free — as it will be — they will be remembered as the founding fathers.

They stand as Hong Kong’s Nelson Mandela, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, Natan Sharansky, Lech Walesa, and Vaclav Havel.

The Democratic Party of Hong Kong may have closed, but the fight for democracy in Hong Kong never will.

We will continue the fight — until the day when Hong Kong and all of China are free.

This article was published in UCA News on 24 February 2025.