Being part of Taiwan’s military, I am not permitted to step foot into the “enemy territory” of China without prior approval, although I joined a group tour to Hong Kong and Macau in 1996 before the 1997 Hong Kong handover.
I recall walking through the bustling streets, browsing shops selling wares from all over the world. I heard English, Cantonese and Mandarin being spoken fluently by passers-by and shopkeepers. I remember being envious, as I was trying hard to master a foreign language at the time. The free, open atmosphere, cultural variety and creativity left a huge impression on me.
Taiwanese dramas have learned from and imitated the Hong Kong martial arts movie adaptations of renowned writers such as Jin Yong (金庸) and Lilian Lee (李碧華).
However, times have changed. That Hong Kong is now gone.
In the past few years, the Hong Kong government has suppressed civil liberties, shuttered non-establishment media and jailed media workers, while drama, news and publishing firms have been required to self-censor.
Several days ago, I read an article about a young Hong Konger who said her dream was to be a music producer and that she regrets not having stayed in the UK after studying there.
She said she fears getting on the wrong side of the authorities in Hong Kong, not just because of the self-censorship and the government supervision, but also the strict national security laws that have been implemented.
Last year, I came across a store in Taipei selling Hong Kong-style red bean cakes and, wanting a taste of the Hong Kong I had visited 20 years ago, went in.
I was greeted by a young lady with a Taiwanese accent who introduced the owner as a friend of hers who had just arrived from Hong Kong.
I asked the owner whether she had moved to Taiwan because of extradition law issues. She was clearly relieved to have found somebody she could talk to about the changes and challenges that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has brought to Hong Kong.
She said she had taught civil liberties and social development at a high school in Hong Kong for almost two decades, but the authorities would tell the teachers what to say in class.
When Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) came to power, the repression intensified. Several days would not go by before her superiors would add to the list of forbidden words or taboo terms, until she found that she could take it no more and stopped teaching.
At the same time, she was concerned about how an educational environment such as that would stifle her child’s creativity and thought, so she and her husband discussed leaving Hong Kong.
The second that her family stepped foot in Taiwan, it was as if they were taking in a deep breath of fresh, free air, she said.
Xi can trumpet all he likes about how “one country, two systems” is the best formula for Hong Kong and Macau; former Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平) evoked the Marxist principle that actual implementation was the only standard to test the truth, insisting on using the system and bringing down his rival former Chinese premier Hua Guofeng (華國鋒).
Is the system in Hong Kong an example of “two systems” or one?
The territory’s economy is foundering; Hong Kongers are voting with their feet; media organizations are either having to close down or pledge allegiance to the CCP; academic freedoms are being taken away; and Hong Kongers are scared to leave their homes, afraid they will somehow set a foot wrong.
Is this the result of “one country, two systems”? If it is, who would want to be subject to it?
Chang Ling-ling is a military instructor at the National Defense University.
Translated by Paul Cooper
Taiwan stands at the epicenter of a seismic shift that will determine the Indo-Pacific’s future security architecture. Whether deterrence prevails or collapses will reverberate far beyond the Taiwan Strait, fundamentally reshaping global power dynamics. The stakes could not be higher. Today, Taipei confronts an unprecedented convergence of threats from an increasingly muscular China that has intensified its multidimensional pressure campaign. Beijing’s strategy is comprehensive: military intimidation, diplomatic isolation, economic coercion, and sophisticated influence operations designed to fracture Taiwan’s democratic society from within. This challenge is magnified by Taiwan’s internal political divisions, which extend to fundamental questions about the island’s identity and future
The narrative surrounding Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s attendance at last week’s Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) summit — where he held hands with Russian President Vladimir Putin and chatted amiably with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) — was widely framed as a signal of Modi distancing himself from the US and edging closer to regional autocrats. It was depicted as Modi reacting to the levying of high US tariffs, burying the hatchet over border disputes with China, and heralding less engagement with the Quadrilateral Security dialogue (Quad) composed of the US, India, Japan and Australia. With Modi in China for the
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) has postponed its chairperson candidate registration for two weeks, and so far, nine people have announced their intention to run for chairperson, the most on record, with more expected to announce their campaign in the final days. On the evening of Aug. 23, shortly after seven KMT lawmakers survived recall votes, KMT Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) announced he would step down and urged Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕) to step in and lead the party back to power. Lu immediately ruled herself out the following day, leaving the subject in question. In the days that followed, several
The Jamestown Foundation last week published an article exposing Beijing’s oil rigs and other potential dual-use platforms in waters near Pratas Island (Dongsha Island, 東沙島). China’s activities there resembled what they did in the East China Sea, inside the exclusive economic zones of Japan and South Korea, as well as with other South China Sea claimants. However, the most surprising element of the report was that the authors’ government contacts and Jamestown’s own evinced little awareness of China’s activities. That Beijing’s testing of Taiwanese (and its allies) situational awareness seemingly went unnoticed strongly suggests the need for more intelligence. Taiwan’s naval
RSS