Free
speech in Hong Kong signs off the
air By Gary
LaMoshi
HONG KONG - I used to have two effective
arguments for persuading Western friends to skip the
taxi and support Hong Kong's public transportation
system. One was that those little red Toyotas and
Nissans running on diesel fuel ranked among the biggest
contributors to Hong Kong's pollution problems. The
other was that, during daylight hours, we could be sure
of a full assault on our ears from Cantonese radio
call-in shows, most notably Albert Cheng's Teacup in
a Storm program, which, like Limp Bizkit, apparently
must be played at deafening volumes to be fully
appreciated.
Both excuses are history now. The
taxi fleet has been converted to run on liquefied
natural gas, eliminating the most dangerous emissions.
Minibuses have also been converted, leaving us to blame
the thickening haze on ill winds from over the border.
Albert Cheng, Hong Kong's most
outspoken advocate of full democracy, left his radio show
this month. Radio host Raymond Wong, another strident
voice for democracy, left a few days after Cheng. It
appears ill winds from over the border may be to blame
as well.
In a farewell message to listeners,
Cheng blamed his departure on "the political low
pressure induced by the central government's violent
interference in Hong Kong's political reform, which is
suffocating". But it wasn't just changes in barometric
pressure that led Cheng to leave for Europe until at
least the end of this year.
Death threats Cheng says he began receiving death threats in
February, warning him to tone down his criticism of
Beijing and its hand-picked government in Hong Kong. On
March 31, thugs entered the offices of a trading company
where he is a partner, asked for Cheng, then doused the
office with red paint. Cheng contends it was not a
commercial dispute - red paint is often used by thugs as
a sign of unpaid debts - and that the attackers would
have had to been well briefed to have uncovered that he
was a partner in the company.
After that
incident Cheng filed a police complaint - he said he
threw away the death threats - and publicly expressed
his concern about continuing to broadcast. But Cheng
remained on the air. He's not a guy who scares easily.
In August 1998, two men attacked Cheng with kitchen
choppers, Hong Kong's weapon of choice. He suffered a
near-fatal loss of blood and required months of
physiotherapy to regain full use of his limbs. The case
remains unsolved, but Cheng went back on the air.
After the
March 31 paint bath, Cheng says, the threats persisted
and then escalated in the rising political temperature
following Beijing's decision to take charge of Hong
Kong's political reforms and its veto of direct election
of Hong Kong's chief executive in 2007, decisions Cheng
criticized heavily on the air (see http://www.atimes.com/atimes/China/FD08Ad02.html
Hong Kong politics: Business as usual, April 7). In a
letter published in the South China Morning Post after his
departure, Cheng wrote, "I am not afraid of people in
power, but I shudder at the threat of violence. It is
only human and natural for me to be deeply disturbed by
death threats." Cheng's family reportedly pressured the
56-year-old host and columnist to put his personal
safety ahead of his show, fearing another attack on him.
Remember Lam Bun That is not an
unreasonable fear. Cheng's Commercial Radio colleague
Raymond Wong Yuk-man was attacked in March by a
stranger. A restaurant Wong owns also was vandalized.
More recently, Hong Kong Human Rights Watch reported
that Wong received a faxed reminder of radio station
staffer Lam Bun's "extermination by patriotic forces" in
1967. After criticizing rioting by mainland
sympathizers, Bun was killed by protestors who torched
his car.
A week after Cheng took his leave, Wong
clicked off his microphone, declaring he was "physically
and mentally tired. I need a rest." In an interview
published after his departure from the airwaves,
Wong said pro-Beijing business figures had pressured him
and offered him bribes to tone down his criticism of the
mainland government and its allies in Hong Kong.
Ma Lik, Hong Kong's delegate to Beijing's
National People's Congress, challenged Wong and Cheng to
provide details of mainland government involvement in
the threats to them. That's a common ploy - if you can't
prove who did it, then don't you dare accuse the most
logical candidate. It's not important whether the trail
of intimidation and threats runs straight to the Beijing
leadership complex in Zhongnanhai or stops with
partisans of Ma's Democratic Alliance for the Betterment
of Hong Kong and its ilk, the entrenched elite that has
the most to lose from political reform in Hong Kong.
Influential peddlers In advance of
Hong Kong's September 12 legislative elections, Beijing
now benefits from the absence from the airwaves of two
of the strongest advocates for democratic forces.
Cheng's influence was evident during the severe acute
respiratory syndrome (SARS) crisis last year when he
spearheaded a highly effective campaign to get people to
wear surgical masks. Both hosts also were credited with
helping to bring out the crowd of 500,000 to last year's
march on July 1 against the government's proposed
draconian security laws (see Article 23 protesters take aim at Hong
Kong elite
, July 1, 2003).
More important, and far more frightening, is the trend
for Beijing's supporters to use violence and threats
against political opponents - the way they do things on
the mainland. The 1998 attack on Cheng could pass for
an isolated incident, similar to the "Kenneth, what's
the frequency?" punch out of CBS anchor Dan Rather on
a Manhattan street back in 1986. However, this
year's intimidation of Cheng and Wong fit a pattern.
Democratic Party founder Martin Lee was pushed by a mob of
Beijing supporters after returning from testifying to the
US Congress this year. The same week Cheng left,
eight mainland warships appeared in Victoria Harbour, a
departure from the normally low profile of China's
military in Hong Kong.
The continued
intimidation of Cheng and Wong despite public and police
attention is most troubling. The enemies of these talk
show hosts showed no fear of either the authorities or a
public backlash. Similar to Beijing's decision to deny
direct election of the chief executive in 2007 and of
the legislature in 2008, it's a vivid reminder to the
democratic forces of how little they can do to counter
the will of Beijing's rulers. These tactics also
indicate that supporters of Beijing have no intention of
playing fair, and they want to make sure everybody knows
it. That's something to keep in mind when supporters of
political reform gather to remember the 15th anniversary
of the Tiananmen Square massacre on June 4. Their
success intimidating the talk show hosts may encourage
these Beijing's partisans to try similar tactics on a
wider scale. Stay tuned.
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