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
In South Korea, the medical cosmetic industry is fiercely competitive and prices are low, attracting beauty enthusiasts from Taiwan. However, basic medical risks are often overlooked. While sharing a meal with friends recently, I heard one mention that his daughter would be going to South Korea for a cosmetic skincare procedure. I felt a twinge of unease at the time, but seeing as it was just a casual conversation among friends, I simply reminded him to prioritize safety. I never thought that, not long after, I would actually encounter a patient in my clinic with a similar situation. She had
Chinese actor Alan Yu (于朦朧) died after allegedly falling from a building in Beijing on Sept. 11. The actor’s mysterious death was tightly censored on Chinese social media, with discussions and doubts about the incident quickly erased. Even Hong Kong artist Daniel Chan’s (陳曉東) post questioning the truth about the case was automatically deleted, sparking concern among overseas Chinese-speaking communities about the dark culture and severe censorship in China’s entertainment industry. Yu had been under house arrest for days, and forced to drink with the rich and powerful before he died, reports said. He lost his life in this vicious
A recent trio of opinion articles in this newspaper reflects the growing anxiety surrounding Washington’s reported request for Taiwan to shift up to 50 percent of its semiconductor production abroad — a process likely to take 10 years, even under the most serious and coordinated effort. Simon H. Tang (湯先鈍) issued a sharp warning (“US trade threatens silicon shield,” Oct. 4, page 8), calling the move a threat to Taiwan’s “silicon shield,” which he argues deters aggression by making Taiwan indispensable. On the same day, Hsiao Hsi-huei (蕭錫惠) (“Responding to US semiconductor policy shift,” Oct. 4, page 8) focused on
The election campaign for the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) chair is heating up, with only 10 days left before party members cast their ballots on Oct. 18. The campaign has revealed potential strengths for the party going into important elections next year and in 2028, particularly the desire among leading candidates to deepen cooperation with the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP). However, it has also exposed the party’s persistent weaknesses, especially in formulating a policy on cross-strait relations that can appeal to the majority of Taiwanese. Six candidates are registered: former Taipei mayor Hau Lung-bin (郝龍斌), 73; former legislator Cheng Li-wun
RSS