Reading Lee Min-yung’s (李敏勇) article (“Taiwanese must unite to protect our nation,” Aug. 16, page 8) about Taiwan’s unfinished nationhood struck a chord with me. His reminder that Taiwan must raise its own banner of identity reminded me of my story as a Hong Konger born in the 1960s who lived through the loss of that very freedom.
Hong Kong was ceded to the UK in 1842 and remained under British rule for 155 years. It grew from a fishing port into an international financial center — once dubbed the “Pearl of the Orient.” These achievements had nothing to do with the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).
After 1949, China sank into poverty, famine and human-caused disasters. Only after Deng Xiaoping’s (鄧小平) reforms in 1978 did China begin to open up, and it was Hong Kong entrepreneurs who crossed the border to invest and drive the mainland’s growth.
Life under British rule was hardly perfect, but it was freer and more dignified than what came later. We were not persecuted, discriminated against nor forced to recite national slogans about loyalty to the UK or love for the queen. We were not even taught British history. Instead, we were given access to the international language — English — without losing Chinese language, literature or history.
There was a period of corruption, but from the 1970s onward, governance became clean and efficient. The rule of law prevailed and freedom of speech was protected. There was space to simply be Hong Kongers. Everything thrived. Cantonese cinema and pop music became cultural touchstones across Asia — even in a closed-off China.
That is the root of our nostalgia. We do not long to be British. We long for the ability to remain Hong Kongers, with our freedoms intact.
That space began to close in 1997, and after Hong Kong’s National Security Law went into effect, it has been crushed.
Now children are taught to love China, be loyal to the CCP and memorize rewritten history. A teenager who turned his back during the national anthem in a stadium was arrested and charged. Voices of dissent have been silenced and imprisoned. Social media is under surveillance. Posting or sharing anything critical of the government or China risks bringing down the sledgehammer of the national security police. Policies on education, welfare, immigration and business are drafted not for Hong Kongers, but to please Beijing.
That is what we mourn — the loss of freedom, dignity and identity.
We are Chinese by blood and culture, but our national identity has been hijacked by the CCP. To admit being Chinese and be told to take pride in it is to accept the values of an oppressive regime. That is what Hong Kongers cannot embrace — yet are forced to submit to.
Asked where we come from, we say: “Hong Kong,” deliberately omitting “China.” Officially, saying just “Hong Kong” is no longer allowed.
I envy Taiwanese, because they still have what Hong Kong lost: democracy, freedom of expression and the ability to call themselves Taiwanese without hesitation. I fear for Taiwan, because I know how quickly these things could disappear if they are not defended.
Many in Taiwan might think the danger is abstract, that the “China problem” is a matter of distant politics. That is what many Hong Kongers thought, too. We lived our daily lives, proud to call ourselves Hong Kongers, assuming it would last. Then one day, it did not.
Hong Kong is a testament to how swiftly freedom could vanish. Taiwan must keep watch without rest.
When the Japanese flag came down in 1945, Taiwan forgot to raise its own. Hong Kong never had the chance. Taiwan still does.
John Cheng is a retired businessman from Hong Kong now living in Taiwan.
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