Years into a crackdown on opposition and dissent in Hong Kong, observers, experts and exiles say there is very little democratic participation left in the city. But the government is still pushing its own version.
On Sunday the city will hold district council elections, and chief executive John Lee would very much like people to vote.
Transport and museums will be free of charge as part of a “fun day” to promote the polls, which will include concerts and drone shows. Voters will receive a thank you card and a photo opportunity, while civil servants have been strongly urged to head to polling stations. Cathay Pacific has offered discount flights to encourage Hong Kong residents in mainland China to return. The government is also set to provide funding to elderly homes to ensure seniors head to the polls, while border zone polling booths will allow eligible voters in China to cast a ballot. Vans roam communities with loudhailers promoting the new “patriots only” system.
The elections are for the lowest level of government in the city. But since 2019 they’ve held a historically significant – and politically awkward – place in Hong Kong’s pro-democracy history. At the peak of the 2019 protests, more than 70% of the city turned out to vote for pro-democracy candidates, booting the government out of 242 of its 300 seats, and smashing its claims that the protest movement was simply a noisy minority.
Since then the government – under Carrie Lam and now John Lee – has made some changes. A sweeping overhaul of the electoral system was designed to ensure only government-approved “patriots” could run Hong Kong. A general election went through this new system in 2021. Sunday will be what Lee likely sees as the “last lap” of these reforms, says Kenneth Chan, an associate professor in political science at Hong Kong Baptist University. “Pro-democracy citizens of Hong Kong understand this as another great leap backward toward a system which is ‘by invitation only’, exclusive, and the least competitive of all.”
‘No one caught my attention’
However, voting isn’t compulsory in Hong Kong, and the 2021 legislative elections saw a record low of 30.2%. Government figures have been sending out duelling messages, with some figures saying turnout doesn’t matter while simultaneously launching a plethora of events to encourage participation.
But across Hong Kong are signs of apathy, or what Chan says is “political disengagement by design”.
In Wan Chai, 26-year-old surveyor Mr Wong, who declined to give his full name, says he’s noticed the authorities have devoted ample resources to promoting it. “It seems that the government is afraid that no one is going to vote,” Wong says. “There are advertisements for the election on the street, on buses and on television.”
But Mr Wong says he’s unlikely to vote. “I don’t know the candidates and there is just no one that caught my attention.”
Mr Chan, 60, was among those to vote for a pro-democracy councillor in 2019, in his middle class community of Tai Koo.
“This year is the first time that I will not vote,” he says. “I have automatically isolated myself from political propaganda. All candidates had been screened before running. It’s just a show.”
In the new configuration of the district councils, the proportion of directly elected representatives has been slashed from about 95% to less than a fifth. The rest will be chosen by the city’s leader and government-appointed committees. All opposition parties have been barred from running, while most traditional pro-democracy politicians remain behind bars, have gone into self-exile, or have quit politics. Candidates are strictly vetted, and government authorities now also exercise central control over the functioning of the councils.
“These changes call into question one of the primary functions of district councils which is to link the community to the government,” says Prof John Burns of Hong Kong University’s department of politics and public administration.
“Given the lack of diversity among the candidates in terms of priorities and policy preferences, we may expect the new district councils to serve as government echo chambers.”
Simon Cheng, a Hong Kong activist who now lives in the UK, says the changes will make the system more similar to the Chinese Communist party’s Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, a party-controlled advisory body without real legislative power.
He says some people are still optimistic and will still try to fight for some opportunities for change “no matter how limited” they are, but he believes that engaging in the elections can give “endorsement to what authorities say is democracy”.
Such suggestions are dangerous to make in Hong Kong, where incitement has become a common charge and calling for boycotts was criminalised in 2021. Last week police charged a 38-year-old programmer named Man Wing-fung with inciting people not to vote, and authorities have sought a warrant for a Germany-based commentator who called for a boycott of what he told VOA was an “unjust election”.
‘It’s not a genuine election’
These and other cases have created a chilling effect in Hong Kong. In the working-class district of Sham Shui Po, 80-year-old retiree Mr Feng tells the Guardian and HKFP he won’t be voting, citing the police treatment of young activist and former politician Agnes Chow.
“She was just arrested and not charged, but she lost her freedom in Hong Kong. There is no fairness in the city, what’s the point of voting?”
But he says people have to be careful. “I am not asking others not to vote. It’s just me that’s not going to vote.”
Chow is now among a growing network of activists in exile. Last week she revealed she had moved to Canada to study, and had since decided not to come back to Hong Kong, in breach of her bail conditions. She tells the Guardian she sees Hong Kong’s electoral system as now entirely controlled by Beijing.
“It’s no longer a democratic election, it’s not a genuine election,” she says.
The 2019 district council election was an outlier in acting as a democracy referendum. This level of government is supposed to connect the community with the city’s decision makers. Other residents who spoke to the Guardian and HKFP described concerns about the cost of living, lower visitor numbers affecting hospitality industries, and rising rates of mental illness in the city. Some pointed to fears that the national security crackdown would sink Hong Kong as a foreign investment hub and hurt its economy. “We can’t even make a living – who cares about politics?” says Mr Wai, a 50-year-old waiter who recently lost his job.
Elsewhere 72-year-old Jordan resident, Mohammad Arfan, is keen to cast his vote again for pro-establishment candidates, in support of the stability brought by the “nice” new system.
“I don’t like protests … As an old man, the government is helping me too much. I live in public housing, and the public hospital is free of charge,” Arfan says.
Observers expect a very low turnout on Sunday, and there is next to no commentary about a result that most see as inevitable. People familiar with government discussions say there is a feeling that reaching a turnout of even 30% would be welcomed.
“In the absence of pro-democracy voters, and the lacklustre campaign efforts by the pro-government groupings, this poll has become a de-facto effort by the government to mobilise its support base in society,” says Kenneth Chan. “Given the unprecedented amount of time and resources put into the ‘get out the vote’ campaign, we shall see exactly how many support the new electoral regime and the government itself.”
