On the 50th anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party's accession to power, some Hong Kong people seem to have made a silly spectacle of themselves by dancing to a jumble of patriotic jingles.
To celebrate the anniversary, the government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region (SAR) arranged a whole series of events under the banner of the "Golden Jubilee of the Motherland" (祖國金禧). But the title immediately drew sarcastic remarks from the media. That the 5,000-year culture of the "motherland" has been shrunk to a mere 50 years seems to prove the ignorance of officials in the former colony, as well as their inability to handle even the basics of the Chinese language. This is a tragedy for those who have suddenly turned patriots.
But the Chinese communists, of course, are very happy to equate their 50 years in power with the whole length of Chinese history, and patriotism with love of the Communist party.
Also, some scholars have pointed out that the Chinese name for the bauhinia flower on the SAR's flag is 洋紫荊 (occidental redbud). The patriots who participated in the design of the flag also admitted that although they used the bauhinia on the flag, they omitted the Chinese character for Occidental (洋) from its name, calling it just 紫荊 (Chinese redbud), which is a totally different plant. This whole affair has once again proved that the patriots in Hong Kong and China will not hesitate to "call a deer a horse" just to preserve their cloak of patriotism.
Also, the fight over tickets to the celebrations in Beijing did not exactly make things easier for Tung Chee-hwa (董建華), who was worried about making enemies and affecting his re-election bid. Thus, he spared no effort in "coordination." It turned out that Beijing had given Hong Kong a quota for only 100 delegates. With many of the seats already taken up by Hong Kong's 36 representatives to the National People's Congress (人大) and members of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC - 政協), there was hardly any room for outsiders. Fortunately, after negotiations with Tung Chee-hwa, the Chinese authorities rewarded him by raising the number of seats to 200, not including those for Tung and his wife.
However, in order to avoid squabbles, the list of the guests was not disclosed until September 30, the very day they were scheduled to set out for Beijing. Not single democrat was on the list. Instead, there were 74 mem-bers of the electoral committee who voted Tung to the Chief Executive's seat (we might call it a thanksgiving from Tung.)
But those patriots who lost the struggle for tickets did not come out empty-handed either. The authorities organized some tour groups to other regions of the "motherland" as a consolation prize for them.
And not everyone who made it to Beijing received the same treatment. Some were given accommodation at five-star hotels, while others had to put up with three-star ones.
Apart from Tung, only 10 other people were allowed onto the rostrum on Tienanmen Square, including top government officials and business tycoons.
In the parade, Hong Kong was represented by floats carrying replicas of a few famous highrises and the Tsing Ma bridge (青馬大橋), tagged with the Chinese characters for "Hong Kong" in Jiang Zemin's calligraphy. The representation drew criticism from some Hong Kong delegates, who called it "insipid, pointless and unattrac-tive." Some even said Hong Kong's float was the worst in the whole parade. One Hong Kong journalist described the HK$1 million float as "a silver slipper filled with plastic junk." The criticism repeated criticism of the World Horticulture Exhibition held in Kunming in May, when Hong Kong's HK$9 million showroom was blasted by critics for lack of creativity. Hong Kong seems to have lost its vitality after the handover.
As if fearing an uprising back in Hong Kong while all the top officials were away, Commissioner of Police Eddie Hui Ki-on (許淇安) ordered the arrest of any "noisemakers" at the flag-raising ceremony on Oct. 1. The move prompted such an uproar in the Hong Kong media that the authorities only confiscated the megaphones of noisemaking democrats at the ceremony.
But not many people attended the ceremony, anyway. The movie National Anthem (國歌), made by the communists specially for the occasion, drew a miserably small audience at its premiere in Hong Kong on Sept. 30. Some matinees did not even sell a single ticket. Luckily, orchestrated group viewings from patriotic organizations and schools helped fill some seats.
And not all in the Hong Kong media were eulogizing the Communists. Some carped that there was more blood and tears than smiles to celebrate on the 50th anniversary. Some asked the Communists to lift the curse of nationalism and promote political reforms.
Legislative Council member Emily Lau Wai-hing (劉慧卿), who has been the most vocal critic of the Communists, said in a newspaper article: "Seeing their country devoid of justice and human rights, how can any conscientious person possibly love a political party that does not love the country and its people? Not to mention the fact that patriotism does not equal loving a political party .... What is there to celebrate in a country where there is no democracy?"
Paul Lin is a commentator on Hong Kong issues. He currently resides in the US.
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