By Mandy Hui

A Convenient Misremembrance: Hong Kong’s Colonial Legacy

Editor’s Note: This paper was completed as a part of the History Research Fellowship, a one-semester course available to sixth form students.

Is Hong Kong a part of China? The answer to that question depends upon whom you ask.

In 1842, Britain occupied the small island of Hong Kong. The colonial empire maintained political control for a century and a half, eventually returning the city to the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in 1997. During the transfer of power, the PRC declared Hong Kong a special administrative region. This unique status permitted the city to operate separate legal and economic systems from those in mainland China, a principle embodied in the slogan “one country, two systems.” The Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping developed this idea during the 1980s in anticipation of Hong Kong’s reunification with China. The concept not only preserved Hong Kong’s capitalist system, it also granted the city a high-degree of autonomy until 2047. The agreement promised Hong Kong residents freedoms of speech, press, and assembly, all of which are not guaranteed in the mainland.

In recent years, many Hong Kong residents have prided themselves on their city’s civil liberties, in distinction from the more strict rule on the mainland. However, China began gradually limiting Hong Kong’s freedoms in many different ways, such as abducting Hong Kongers who sold books criticizing the PRC in the early 2010s. China’s repeated threats to strip Hong Kong of its autonomy have been met with mass demonstrations; thousands of pro-democracy residents rallied in the streets of Hong Kong, protesting the PRC’s infringement on the “one country, two systems” policy it had promised to retain for 50 years. 

Growing up in Hong Kong, I witnessed protestors block familiar roads and businesses to force China’s authoritarian government to concede in its attempts to end Hong Kong’s democratic system. I have seen thousands symbolically use umbrellas and black clothing as a cry for freedom and democracy. For most of my life, my friends and I were too young to formulate our own informed opinions regarding these protests, but the events of 2019 and 2020 changed my perspective on what was unfolding before me.

In the midst of the 2019 protests, I had a conversation over lunch with one of my close friends about Hong Kong’s political crisis. I was conscious of my friend’s impassioned beliefs on the matter. Due to the topic’s sensitive nature, we decided to eat at a “yellow restaurant,” a title given to restaurants owned by pro-democracy supporters. I asked her about her thoughts. She described tension among her family members about China’s restrictions. She wanted to take part in the pro-democracy protests, however, her parents threatened to disown her if she associated herself with the demonstrators. At the end of her soliloquy, she let out a sigh and muttered, “I wish Hong Kong was a British colony again.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d heard pro-democracy supporters reminisce about the city’s colonial era. The week before, thousands of demonstrators gathered to sing the British national anthem, “God Save the Queen,” and hundreds waved Union Jacks as a sign of resistance against the PRC. I was confused. Why do many Hong Kong citizens look favorably on British colonial rule but bravely resist PRC’s control? How can the British Union Jack, the flag of Hong Kong’s former colonizer, be used as a symbol of democracy?