mission of defending Hong Kong, their home. Fighting along with your band of brothers and sisters, in a clear and present danger, is inherently risky, but also inherently thrilling,” he said. “Similarly, police officers are also determined to defend their comrades who were injured and assaulted. They also think that they possess the noble calling of defending Hong Kong, their home.”
But Chan said the range of weapons the police had seized since the end of 2019 – including homemade bombs and explosives – warranted greater public concern. Hong Kong police handled nearly 190 explosives cases throughout the year – nearly two-thirds more than the year before – amid what they saw as an “almost unprecedented” bombing campaign.
In another troubling sign, in January 2020, police arrested 10 members of a radical anti-government group on suspicion of conspiracy to manufacture explosives and possession of explosives, drugs, and other instruments. They included two students, a kindergarten teacher, a barista and two unemployed men. All 10 were also arrested for illegal assembly during a protest rally on New Year’s Day.
“The fact that there hasn’t been wider concern is very dangerous because it suggests that the norm – or what is generally perceived as acceptable – is shifting. People are habituating to violence,” Chan said.
He said some netizens might also mistake the expressions of solidarity online as the rest of society supporting violence. “This is a form of heuristics that may not reflect reality; they do not realize that the voice expressed in the Reddit-like site is not necessarily an accurate representation of the society at large,” he warned.
Even veteran activist Avery Ng Man-yuen of the League of Social Democrats, whose party is known for its street actions and antics, did not believe that violence was the solution. (The only “violence” Ng himself ever committed was hurling a tuna sandwich at former city leader Leung Chun-ying.) The increasing use of force would lead not only to more protesters paying a price, he said, but the movement could also be depleted if other supporters retreated out of fear they might be arrested next.
“And after all, the protesters and the force are in an asymmetrical position – officers are equipped with bullets but protesters only have bricks,” he said. “Injuries eventually would be on our side.”
Ng also warned that well-meaning donations of food coupons or battle gear were actually putting more protesters at risk of injury and arrest. “It’s a dilemma,” he said, as such efforts were equal to condoning the violence.
Pro-democracy lawmakers confessed to facing a similar Catch-22 situation. While psychologist Chan expressed disappointment with politicians and intellectuals who lacked the courage to speak out against violence, several democrats defended their reticence. They had no choice if they wanted to retain ties with the protesters and hope to be of some influence, they insisted.
Democratic Party lawmaker Lam Cheuk-ting alluded to their delicate relationship. “The hardcores might consider our situation when they mull over their next steps as long as we are in the same boat. We could still exchange views,” he explained. “Once we part ways, they would no longer see us as their allies and would not consider our difficulties anymore. It could be even more dangerous.”
Staying united was the only way forward, he argued, citing the camp’s landslide victory in the district council elections in November as proof that the public endorsed the alliance. But another pandemocratic lawmaker, who spoke on condition of anonymity, admitted that such an approach could lead to more dangerous incidents in future. The situation was a ticking time bomb, he warned.
However, Cheng did not think the radicals had the organization or resources to be an underground resistance force, as feared by doomsayers who warned they were becoming like the Irish Republican Army. A more likely scenario, given their strategy of fluidity and unity, is that protesters’ actions will wax and wane, depending on circumstances. He did not see any easy resolution ahead.
Student activist turned teacher Anna Chan said her heart ached each time she saw students risking their future to join the clashes. A year on, the young protesters still believed in a now-or-never chance to fight for their cause. Many believed this would be the denouement of their demand for democracy, and appeared to be prepared to risk everything. Chan, who has one student who is a hard-core radical, said: “I totally understand them. They fear they will regret it for the rest of their lives if they do not speak up now.”
Chan confessed to feeling helpless at not being able to help them. For now, she said, she had made a pledge to herself not to shy away from difficult issues in her classes so that the Hong Kong spirit could endure. “The city needs more people with kind hearts and critical minds so one day they can change the world. I have only full love for Hongkongers and their spirit to stand up for their rights.”
— With reporting by Phila Siu
The storming of Legco
Zuraidah Ibrahim and Jeffie Lam
On the anniversary of the handover, an angry crowd attacked the legislature, ransacking the chamber and issuing their demands.
July 1 has been a bittersweet day for Hong Kong for more than two decades. On that day in 1997, Britain returned the city to Chinese sovereignty. Less than 24 hours later, thousands of people braved intermittent rain to march on the city’s streets, demanding democracy. Since then, the anniversary has been marked by both official celebrations and street processions, with the turnout surging or shrinking each year depending on the issues gripping Hongkongers.
In 2019, the handover anniversary arrived amid a build-up of protests against the government’s extradition bill, with two massive street marches in June. As in previous years, there was a July 1 march from Victoria Park in Causeway Bay. It attracted about 550,000 people, by organizers’ estimates, who took part in a largely peaceful march. But most of the action that day occurred at Tamar Park, in Admiralty, where thousands of demonstrators had gathered from the early morning. Mostly young and masked, they barricaded key roads in Admiralty and Wan Chai and clashed with police, pelting officers with corrosive substances, eggs and bottles.
In the evening, at about 9pm, a mob smashed its way into the Legislative Council building. Unchecked by police and ignoring the earlier appeals of lawmakers urging them to stop, dozens made their way into the chamber where Hong Kong’s legislators meet. Over several hours, they vandalized the premises, smashing official portraits, defacing the emblem of the city and spray-painting protest slogans on the walls. It was well past midnight before the last protesters left. July 1, 2019 marked the day the extradition bill protesters entered uncharted territory, ransacking an institution, pledging more confrontation and violence ahead.
City leader Carrie Lam Cheng Yuet-ngor’s day began with a change of plans for the official flag-raising ceremony and singing of the national anthem, March of the Volunteers. The 8am event was moved indoors for the first time since 1997, ostensibly to avoid a drizzle, but the authorities were more worried protesters would interrupt and ruin the festivities. So, instead of gathering at Golden Bauhinia Square in Wan Chai, Hong Kong’s top officials, dignitaries and guests made their way to the nearby Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre for a muted celebration. Lam had announced the suspension of the unpopular extradition bill two weeks earlier, but protesters were not satisfied and insisted on its full withdrawal. In her anniversary speech, Lam promised to reform her style of government and improve communication with lawmakers and people from all walks of life, including young Hongkongers. She acknowledged the need to “grasp public sentiments accurately.”
Over at Tamar Park, a stone’s throw from government headquarters and Lam’s office, the black-clads were already geared up for action. They started arriving from about 4am and, by daybreak, had erected metal and wooden barriers on roads in the area. Overnight, someone had removed the national flag from one of two flagpoles and replaced it with their protest ensign, a white bauhinia flower against a black background. As their numbers swelled through the morning, they blocked Harcourt Road, fronting the park, and nearby streets leading to the Legco building and government complex. By lunchtime, there were thousands in the area, with hundreds gathered around the Legco