Freedom Fighter 游蕙禎

Hong Kong's rebellious lawmaker Yau Wai-ching
By Helier Cheung

Yau Wai-ching is the youngest woman to be elected to Hong Kong's parliament -- and she has been called many things, including: "radical", "goddess", "spy", "pretty" and "cancer cell".
In the space of two months, the 25-year-old has become one of the most controversial politicians in Hong Kong -- and is now pitted in a court battle against the Hong Kong and Chinese governments -- even though she has admitted it could bankrupt her.
Ms Yau and fellow party member Sixtus Leung won elections in September, gaining more than 55,000 votes between them.
Ms Yau, a daughter of two civil servants, had little previous political experience, and made headlines for edging out a veteran politician to win a seat.
The Chinese Studies graduate had been involved in the 2014 pro-democracy protests, when tens of thousands of people, including large numbers of students, took to the streets demanding fully democratic elections in Hong Kong.
She describes the protests as an important part of her political awakening.
After the movement failed to win any concessions from Beijing, Ms Yau and Mr Leung became involved in a new political party -- Youngspiration -- that campaigns against mainland China's influence on Hong Kong, and advocates a "Hong Kong first" approach.
The party struck a nerve with many young Hong Kongers unhappy with China and disillusioned with traditional pro-democracy parties, who they argue have failed to achieve any reform.
But, after their election victory, things quickly spiralled out of control.
Ms Yau and Mr Leung sparked a furore when they were being sworn in last month.
Instead of pledging allegiance to the "Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China", the duo swore allegiance to the "Hong Kong nation", used a term considered derogatory towards China, and displayed a banner that read "Hong Kong is not China".
Their oaths were invalidated, and thousands of people protested against their actions, demanding they be removed from parliament.
A top Chinese official even likened the duo to "two cancer cells -- if you don't care about it, it will continue to hurt your body".
The Hong Kong government launched a court case to disqualify them.
And the Chinese government also decided to intervene -- issuing a controversial interpretation of Hong Kong's law on oath taking, to say that any oath that is not "sincere" should be automatically disqualified.
After losing the court case, Ms Yau and Mr Leung were disqualified as legislators -- and are now also bombarded with angry comments on social media, where people accuse them of being useless, politically naïve, or insulting their country.
But for all the controversy surrounding her, Ms Yau comes across as mild-mannered and determined in person -- and less slick or media trained than many other politicians.
"We know that appealing the court decision will cost a lot," she says.
"We may face bankruptcy, but we have no choice."
She is concerned that if the case is not challenged, it may set a legal precedent for other pro-independence legislators to be disqualified, which would allow the government to "negate the results of a democratic vote".
She says she believes in independence for Hong Kong because the "One Country, Two Systems" model under which it is governed, after it was handed back to China from the British in 1997, is "a failed experiment".
Despite the model, which promises Hong Kong a high degree of autonomy, "in these few years we have seen the PRC [People's Republic of China] government having direct interventions into the internal affairs of Hong Kong".
"We have to find another way to solve this problem," she says.
"One solution may be independence -- or maybe we can find another kind of solution, but right now I can't think of any other solutions."
It is true that there has been growing anger in Hong Kong at perceived Chinese involvement in its affairs.
In particular, the disappearance of five Hong Kong booksellers who published books critical of mainland China in late 2015 sparked concerns over Hong Kong's future.
Hong Kong relies on China for much of its food and water supplies -- as well as much of its trade -- and the Chinese government has shown that it has zero tolerance for moves towards independence from any of its territories.
Veteran democracy activist Martin Lee said he felt suspicious of Ms Yau and Mr Leung's actions, saying that they are "giving [Beijing] the excuse" to destroy Hong Kong's judicial independence.
Some have even accused Ms Yau and Mr Leung of secretly working with Beijing to undermine Hong Kong's pro-democracy movement.
Ms Yau flatly denies this, and says her party has faced such accusations ever since it was founded.
"There are no external forces telling us what to do, to make long term plans, or betray Hong Kong."
Looking amused, she adds: "If we really were undercover agents, surely we'd still be in the legislative council -- we wouldn't have let ourselves get kicked out, would we?"
Ms Yau is known for being outspoken.
She supported gay marriage in her election campaign -- despite receiving criticism for it -- and also raised eyebrows when she said that Hong Kong's housing shortage meant that young people had "no room to bang".
But a lot of the comments about Ms Yau have focused on her gender and appearance, rather than her policies.
One newspaper wrote articles about what she wore to rallies, highlighting what they called her "protest look", while others nicknamed her "goddess" in reference to her appearance.
And the sexism appears to have stepped up a notch since the oath-taking controversy.
At one pro-Beijing protest, demonstrators stuck a photo of Ms Yau on a sex doll -- and internet commentators have shared photos of Ms Yau's dress being hiked up during a scuffle in parliament.
Ms Yau says she believes the sexist attacks are "not because of my gender -- it's because my ideology is different from theirs".
However, experts have argued that the remarks are indicative of gender stereotyping in Hong Kong media -- and worry that they could put off other women from entering politics.
As for Ms Yau, she says she will continue to work to fulfil her campaign pledges -- even if she loses her appeal and her seat in parliament.
"The fact is that many Hong Kongers take [independence] as an aim for the future of Hong Kong," and the government can't ignore those voices, she says.
"I hope in the future, Hong Kong people have the power to choose their destiny and the future they want -- whatever it is they decide to choose."

China Bullies Hong Kong

Activists like Ms. Yau Wai-ching and Mr. Sixtus Leung are choosing to defend the rule of law; they merit strong international support.

The New York Times

Sixtus Leung, center, with glasses, being blocked from taking his seat in the Hong Kong legislature.

When China took control of Hong Kong from Britain in 1997, it signed an agreement guaranteeing the city a high degree of political autonomy for 50 years under the “one country, two systems” doctrine.  

On Monday, Beijing took a step away from that commitment, putting at risk the political stability and rule-based governance that have made Hong Kong a free-market mecca.
China intervened to effectively block two politicians, Sixtus Leung, 30, and Yau Wai-ching, 25, who were elected in September to the Hong Kong Legislature, from taking their seats. 

Their crime? 

Last month, at a swearing-in ceremony, they displayed a “Hong Kong is not China” banner; Mr. Leung used a derogatory term for China in his oath, and Ms. Yau used an obscenity. 

They support independence for Hong Kong. 

Beijing’s leaders consider such support a national security threat that must be crushed.
Hong Kong is governed under the Basic Law, a charter negotiated by China and Britain before the 1997 handover. 

It ensured Hong Kong its freedoms, including an independent judiciary. 

It also gives China’s Parliament the right to interpret the law, but until Monday, Beijing had not issued its own interpretation of any clause in the Basic Law without being asked for an interpretation by the Hong Kong government or judiciary. 

In this case, it intervened to say that office holders must “sincerely and solemnly” take loyalty oaths.
Beijing’s unilateral move was a heavy-handed attempt to silence democratic voices. 

And it raised new questions about China’s willingness to reinterpret agreements for its own benefit.
In the past two decades, China has often tolerated activities in Hong Kong that it would not allow on the more restricted mainland. 

Even so, Chinese authorities have limited Hong Kong’s autonomy. 

In 2014 and 2015, negotiations over an electoral reform package deeply divided Hong Kong, provoking 79 days of protests. 

The reforms allowed Hong Kong residents to vote directly for their chief executive, the territory’s highest-ranking official, but Beijing refused to give up the power to vet candidates.
China’s tightening hand is undermining Hong Kong’s economic model. 

For 22 years, the city has been rated the world’s freest economy under a Wall Street Journal-Heritage Foundation index because of its rule of law and its open markets. 

Many multinational corporations locate there because of the independence of the courts.
China cannot afford to erode that credibility, especially when its own economy is struggling. 

Nor can China afford to stoke further unrest, which makes Hong Kong less attractive for investment and sends an ominous signal to Taiwan, a self-governing island that Beijing considers a renegade province. 

Activists like Ms. Yau and Mr. Leung are choosing to defend the rule of law; they merit strong international support.
On Tuesday, more than 1,000 lawyers marched silently through Hong Kong to condemn China and support the pro-independence lawmakers. 

Britain and the United States, which 20 years ago promised to hold Beijing to account, must do better than issuing mild statements urging China not to undermine confidence in the city’s autonomy.

From Hong Kong Pencil Pusher to Political Firebrand

By MICHAEL FORSYTHE and ALAN WONG

HONG KONG — Yau Wai-ching seemed destined to lead an ordinary life.
Twenty-two years old and a newly-minted college graduate, she was already lost in the anonymity of the hundreds of thousands of workers commuting from this city’s high-rise apartments to its glass office towers. 

Her job: processing membership applications at the Hong Kong Institute of Certified Public Accountants.
That was three years ago.
Now, Ms. Yau is one of the best-known and most provocative public figures in this former British colony of 7.3 million, part of an expanding, youth-centered movement that backs more autonomy and, in her case, outright independence from China.
In September, she became the youngest woman ever elected to Hong Kong’s 70-seat legislature. 

And last month, when taking the oath of office, she altered the words, using both an expletive and the term “Chee-na” instead of China, which many people understood to be a reference to a demeaning term for the country that was used during the World War II era.
Her extraordinary public act of defiance enraged the leaders in Beijing. 

On Wednesday, the Communist Party newspaper People’s Daily cited one mainland scholar who referred to Ms. Yau and a fellow pro-independence colleague as a “pustule” that had to be removed.
The following evening, Hong Kong’s government was told that China’s Communist Party-controlled Parliament would take the extraordinary step of ruling on the legality of her oath, which was already being argued in a local court. 

Beijing has never intervened in a Hong Kong court case without being asked by local officials or judges before, raising alarms that the city’s considerable autonomy from the mainland, guaranteed by an international treaty, was being undermined.
Beijing is also outraged about a trip that Ms. Yau and her colleague, Sixtus Leung, known as Baggio, took to Taiwan last month to meet with pro-independence students there.
But for now, she and her young staff are settling into spacious offices on the 10th floor of Hong Kong’s Legislative Council building. 

Bottles of wine and Belgian beer, and three large megaphones, lay strewn about the messy office during a visit late last week. 

On her desk was a copy of “The Godfather,” by Mario Puzo, which she is eager to read.

Ms. Yau at her swearing-in ceremony on Oct. 12. She used an expletive and laid out a banner that read “Hong Kong Is Not China.”

On a whiteboard, written with blue marker, was the now-famous variation of “China” she had voiced at her inauguration. 

From the window next to her desk, the local headquarters of the People’s Liberation Army looms.
It was the road in front of the army headquarters — a building which also served as a British military installation — where Ms. Yau’s transformation began two years ago, on Sept. 28, 2014. 

It was there and then that she first experienced the political life: joining thousands of people in a standoff against the police.
As remarkable as Ms. Yau’s rise from office worker to radical lawmaker may seem, her personal transformation is far from unique here. 

She is just one of hundreds of thousands of Hong Kongers whose lives were altered by the pro-democracy protests that swept the city two years ago.
A generation of young people forged their political identities as they rallied — ultimately unsuccessfully — against China’s decision to put strict controls on planned elections for the city’s chief executive. 

To them, it was a betrayal of the promises made more than a generation ago that led to Britain transferring sovereignty to China, with the promise that Hong Kong would enjoy a high degree of autonomy until at least 2047.
“All of us had the same mission, that we had to stop the government and try to get our democracy,” Ms. Yau said in an interview.
After a few days, she became disillusioned with the main body of protesters who had set up camp on the thoroughfares around the Legislative Council building and the main government offices. 

The atmosphere was like a “festival,” she said.
“When I came out from my home I thought I had to fight, to have a war with the government,” Ms. Yau said.
When the protests ended after 79 days in December 2014, most participants resumed their daily routines. 

But not Ms. Yau. 

She volunteered for the newly formed Youngspiration party and ran for a seat in a local district council in 2015. 

She lost, but was spurred to run for the legislature after violent clashes broke out in February.
Her experience in the youth movement slowly transformed a quiet young woman into an outspoken, irreverent young politician. 

Together with Mr. Leung, she has helped to trigger what may turn into a constitutional crisis, should China’s Parliament move to block them from taking office.
Mr. Leung recalled that when Ms. Yau joined the Youngspiration party in early 2015, she used to keep to herself.
“She didn’t know how to express herself. To be blunt, she was quite a nerd,” he said. 

“But in the two years since she’s been forced to speak and has changed a lot.”
Ms. Yau’s experience until 2014 offered few clues to suggest she would become so passionate about Hong Kong’s future. 

Her parents — both retired civil servants — wanted her to work for a few years in her steady job and then, perhaps, go to graduate school. 

Until 2014, she complied.
But, as Ms. Yau describes it, she could not countenance students — some still in high school — confronting the police on Hong Kong’s streets while she worked at a comfortable desk job just blocks away. 

“They are too young to bear this kind of social responsibility,” she said. 

“I had to pay something for this place.”
Some of her experiences as a student suggest that, if anything, she strongly identified with the Chinese nation, if not the Communist government that has run it since 1949.

Ms. Yau and Mr. Leung inside the Legislative Council late last month.

At Hong Kong’s Lingnan University, Ms. Yau studied Chinese literature. 

She said she enjoyed writing fictionalized accounts of the romantic intrigue — especially homosexual relations — in China’s imperial dynasties, notably the Qin, the first dynasty that flourished more than 2,200 years ago. 

As for China’s last dynasty, the Qing, she said she had little interest because its rulers — the Manchus — were foreigners.
“I don’t think it is a real dynasty for Chinese people,” she said.
Even before she attended college, she said she was particularly affected by the Analects, the collection of sayings and ideas attributed to the philosopher Confucius. 

In some ways, they have helped shape her still developing worldview, particularly her strident anti-Communism.
To Ms. Yau, the government in Beijing has, through its political campaigns, destroyed much that is good about Chinese society. 

She considers Taiwan, which Beijing holds is a breakaway province, a better guardian of Chinese traditions, and that Xi Jinping’s recent emphasis on Confucian values is superficial and not in keeping with the true spirit of the sage.
But even if China abandoned Communism and embraced its thousands of years of history, Ms. Yau said her loyalties lie with Hong Kong, which embarked on a very different path after the British established their colony in the 1840s. 

She sees Hong Kong’s civil liberties — the same ones that allowed her to protest and then win a seat on the legislature — as being under mortal threat by an ever-intrusive mainland government.
At 25 years old, she has come under intense criticism for her inauguration, during which she laid out a blue banner that read “Hong Kong Is Not China.” 

Even some of her allies considered her profanity-laced oath childish.
That speaks to the divide between older pro-democracy supporters, who accept Chinese sovereignty, and many in the younger generation, who do not. 

Emily Lau, the longtime head of Hong Kong’s Democratic Party, said it was unwise of Ms. Yau and Mr. Leung to use the term “Chee-na.”
“I don’t agree with that at all and understand why many people feel infuriated and insulted,” Ms. Lau said, adding that she also strongly disagreed with the pro-Beijing camp’s attempt to prevent the pair from taking office.
Ms. Yau, now in danger of losing her seat, did not want to comment on her oath, citing a court case on whether she will be allowed to retake the pledge. 

Even so, on Wednesday she and Mr. Leung tried to retake their oaths, unannounced, in a chaotic and aborted legislative session. 

The body’s president called their action “ridiculous” and asked them to leave.
“We have to protect our own values, our freedoms,” Ms. Yau said. 

“Some people have to stand up and fight for these kind of things.”

Independentist Hong Kong Lawmakers Draw Blunt Response From China

By MICHAEL FORSYTHE and ALAN WONG

The recently elected Hong Kong lawmaker Sixtus Leung, center with glasses, was restrained by security officers after trying to retake his oath of office on Wednesday.

HONG KONG — It started with an oath of office that two young, newly elected lawmakers altered to insert a derogatory term into the formal name of Hong Kong’s sovereign ruler, the People’s Republic of China, with one also adding a crude epithet.
In addition to substantially revising the pledge of loyalty that all members of Hong Kong’s Legislative Council are required to take, the lawmakers, Yau Wai-ching and Sixtus Leung, known as Baggio, displayed a banner with the words “Hong Kong Is Not China” at their swearing-in.
And China is responding with some bluntness of its own.
Hong Kong’s government, loyal to Beijing, has asked the court system in the city, a former British colony, to review whether the council can let the lawmakers retake their oaths of office.
The Hong Kong government and Beijing want the two representatives, who support independence for the territory, to vacate their seats rather than simply retake the oaths.
A court in Hong Kong is set to hold a hearing on the matter on Thursday.
But a fusillade of invective against the pair in China’s state-controlled news media on Wednesday is leading to fears, backed by reports in Hong Kong news outlets, that Beijing may circumvent Hong Kong’s legal process by issuing a rare interpretation of the city’s mini-constitution that would effectively bar Ms. Yau and Mr. Leung from office.
That prospect has alarmed people in the political, academic and legal communities in Hong Kong.
The city has a strong and independent legal system, inherited from the British, that China has vowed to honor until at least 2047, as part of the agreement that paved the way for the resumption of Chinese rule in 1997.
But a clause in the city’s mini-constitution, known as the Basic Law, gives China’s rubber-stamp legislature, the National People’s Congress, final say over interpretations of that constitution, though the provision has rarely been invoked.
If the Congress’s standing committee, which is in session, rules on the matter, it would amount to mainland China, where there is no tradition of independent courts and no expectations of genuine debate on legal interpretations, overriding the highly developed Hong Kong court system.
The committee may meet to discuss the matter as early as this week.
The independence of Hong Kong’s judiciary is one of the reasons that so many multinational companies, banks and law firms have their Asian headquarters in the city.
Eric Cheung, a law lecturer at the University of Hong Kong, said in an interview that any interpretation by the National People’s Congress “fundamentally undermines our rule of law and the interpretation power of our courts.” 
On Wednesday, the Hong Kong Bar Association said in a statement that an interpretation by Beijing would “deal a severe blow to the independence of the judiciary and the power of final adjudication of the Hong Kong court.”
It added, “The irreparable harm it will do to Hong Kong far outweighs any purpose it could possibly achieve.”

Yau Wai-ching and Mr. Leung outside the Legislative Council building in Hong Kong on Wednesday. Hong Kong’s government, loyal to Beijing, has asked the court system to rule on whether the council can let the two lawmakers retake their oaths.

The actions of Ms. Yau and Mr. Leung, as well as other advocates of greater self-determination for Hong Kong, have touched a raw nerve in Beijing, which harshly suppresses independence movements in other parts of China, such as Tibet and Xinjiang.
But in Hong Kong, which was promised considerable autonomy under the “one country, two systems” principle, people are free to express such sentiments without fear of arrest.
That freedom was on display on Oct. 12, the day they took their oaths, when Mr. Leung and Ms. Yau pronounced China “Chee-na,” which is similar to a derogatory term for China used during World War II.
With its normal instruments of authoritarian repression of limited use in Hong Kong, China has turned its propaganda arms on the pair.
On Wednesday, the Communist Party’s flagship People’s Daily published an interview with Mo Jihong, a legal researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, who called Ms. Yau’s and Mr. Leung’s actions “obvious malice.”
“Such things cannot be allowed to happen in China’s territory,” Mr. Mo said.
“If Hong Kong cannot deal with it properly, the central government should make a decisive move: It cannot allow a festering pustule to become the bane of your life, and it must nip the trend of Hong Kong independence in the bud.”
Ms. Yau, 25, and Mr. Leung, 30, were also strident in pushing back against the possibility of intervention by the Chinese Communist Party.
In a chaotic scene on Wednesday, they burst into the legislative chambers and tried to retake their oaths.
They were unsuccessful.
The council’s president said their actions were “ridiculous.”
“My concern is the destruction of ‘one country, two systems,’ ” Ms. Yau told reporters.
“Once the C.C.P. government chooses to interpret the Basic Law, it means that the dictatorship of the C.C.P. government has come to Hong Kong, which all Hong Kong people don’t want.”
And Mr. Leung brought up a point that seems obvious to many in Hong Kong.
The move for independence is new and is a direct outgrowth of the last time the National People’s Congress chose to set rules on how Hong Kong runs its affairs.
That was in 2014, when the congress set strict guidelines for elections for Hong Kong’s top official that all but guaranteed that only pro-Beijing candidates could appear on the ballot.
That decision set off enormous protests that led to the founding of Mr. Leung’s and Ms. Yau’s political party, Youngspiration.
The main belief guiding supporters of independence is that China’s interference undermines “one country, two systems.”
“ ‘One country, two systems’ and Hong Kong independence are the two models for Hong Kong’s political system,” Mr. Leung told reporters.
“When you destroy one option, you inevitably promote the other option.”
The 2014 ruling was telegraphed well ahead of time.
But news of a possible intervention by the National People’s Congress on the oath-taking caught many people by surprise.
In the issue involving the two lawmakers, the principal relevant law is a local ordinance on oath-taking, said Mr. Cheung, the legal scholar.
That shouldn’t be in the jurisdiction of the National People’s Congress, he said.
What’s more, the congress would be acting pre-emptively and not allowing the court proceedings in Hong Kong to run their course.
Since 1997, China’s legislature has made only four interpretations of Hong Kong’s Basic Law, and customarily that has been only after a request by Hong Kong’s highest court.

Hong Kong MPs defy China during swearing-in ceremony

Politicians declare "Hong Kong is not China", recite oath backwards, and tear placards to protest Beijing authority.
http://www.aljazeera.com/
Yau Wai-ching, an elected MP, unfurled a flag that reads ''Hong Kong is not China'' during the oath taking session.

A swearing-in ceremony to kick off Hong Kong's legislative session descended into a farce, as newly elected pro-democracy politicians intentionally mangled their oaths in a show of defiance against Beijing.
The MPs also displayed flags declaring that Hong Kong is not a part of China, and called out for "democratic self-determination" for the semi-autonomous Chinese city during the oath-taking session on Wednesday.
The protests foreshadow what is expected to be a chaotic term for Hong Kong's semi-democratic Legislative Council after a group of youthful candidates were elected in September, swelling opposition ranks.
The new MPs represent some of a new wave grassroots groups that emerged from the wake of 2014's massive pro-democracy street protests, which failed to win concessions from Beijing but sparked a rising independence movement and a political awakening in many young people.
Al Jazeera's Sarah Clarke, reporting from Hong Kong, said several MPs had chosen various forms of protest, with at least two declaring Hong Kong to be a nation.
Because all politicians were told "to stick to the exact wording, a constitutional requirement", three of them had their oaths rejected.
"We're yet to find out what punishment will prevail," Clarke said. 

"The government has said that anyone who veers away from the exact wording would be punished, and this could mean the disqualification of these politicians from parliament."
Sixtus Leung, 30, of the Youngspiration party draped a blue flag with the words "Hong Kong is not China" over his shoulders and crossed his fingers as he held a Bible while he spoke.
His colleague, Yau Wai-ching, laid the same flag on the table in front of her when it was her turn.
They recited the oath in English, but appeared to deliberately mispronounce the word China as Shina, an old fashioned Japanese term for the country that some see as derogatory.
Yau, 25, also appeared to insert a curse word into her oath.
The legislative clerk admonished them for not sticking to the proper wording and refused to accept their oaths.
Another politician, Lau Siu-lai, who founded her own party, Democracy Groundwork, recited the oath very slowly. 

She took about 10 minutes to repeat the declaration, which has less than 100 words, by pausing for a few seconds after each one, as the rest of the council chamber listened in silence.
Nathan Law, who helped spearhead the 2014 protests and is Hong Kong's youngest ever legislator at age 23, prefaced his oath by quoting Indian independence icon Mahatma Gandhi vowing never to bend to authorities.
"You can chain me. You can torture me. You can even destroy this body, but you will never imprison my mind," said Law, of the Demosisto party.
As he recited the oath, he raised his tone slightly when he mentioned the People's Republic of China, in what some saw as a subtle way of turning the statement into a question about whether to bear allegiance.

Re-elected MP Leung Kwok-hung tears a protest placard while taking the oath at the Legislative Council in Hong Kong.