Each holiday period the Chinese flags that adorn street posts get bigger and bigger, and the Hong Kong flags smaller and smaller (May James via Getty Images)

Hong Kong: “One country, two systems” is breaking down, but not yet dead

Life in the city ranked “partly free”.

Ciara Morris

5 February 20254 min read

Bucking the trend of expats leaving the city, I moved to Hong Kong in 2023, three years after the introduction of the controversial National Security Law (NSL).

I was only an infant when Hong Kong was returned to the PRC in 1997 after 156 years of British colonial rule. Hong Kong has never been a democracy. But, under the “one-country, two systems” framework, Beijing allowed the city to retain considerable political autonomy and freedoms, such as free speech and a free press. These freedoms are now being eroded under the NSL.

Freedom House calls Hong Kong “partly free”, and although it has maintained that label since before the NSL, the city has dropped 18 points in the annual report on political rights and civil liberties since 2019.

Taking the train from Beijing, through Guangzhou and across the yellow marked border into “partly free” Hong Kong, I first visited the city in January 2020. The city was at the time convulsed by anti-China, pro-democracy protests, which began in opposition to an extradition bill allowing Hong Kong suspects to be sent to the mainland for trial.

The protests came to a swift end only months later, with the introduction of the NSL. Enacted by Beijing, bypassing the Hong Kong Parliament, the law criminalises dissent, broadens definitions for crimes against the state and collusion with foreign powers, and allows Beijing to influence the selection of judges as well as a security presence in the region. Within a week of arriving in Hong Kong in 2023, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw PLA tanks roll down the main thoroughfare, Nathan Avenue.

Pro-democracy activists called this “the end of Hong Kong”.

In the early 2000s, Hong Kong was a vibrant regional media hub. But in the last 20 years, Hong Kong has dropped over 118 places in Reporters Without Borders’ press freedom index.

Beijing overhauled the electoral system a year later, ruling that only “patriots” who “respect” the Party can stand for election. And in 2024, a new Article 23 of the Hong Kong Basic Law extended police powers and allowed closed-door trials.

National security education has entered Hong Kong schools and universities aiming to instil Chinese patriotism in the city’s youth. Hong Kong universities are even promoting the use of mainland social media platforms.

Each holiday period, the Chinese flags that adorn street posts get bigger and bigger, and the Hong Kong flags smaller and smaller. Four years ago, walking around the city, I heard almost exclusively Cantonese. Today, I hear mainly Mandarin.

Kowloon, a region of Hong Kong connected geographically to the mainland, is now colloquially called “little Shenzhen”. As a foreigner, I was told I shouldn’t be living in Kowloon because “this is China now, this isn’t Hong Kong for foreigners anymore”.

MTR Tin Hau Station in Hong Kong (Jason Yuen/Unsplash)

There has been an exodus of expats leaving the city since 2020, both due to the NSL and harsh Covid lockdowns. However, Hong Kong remains a global financial powerhouse, and a regional hub for foreign banks. Low taxes and light regulation make it still one of the world’s most attractive markets and cities to live in if you work in finance. Hong Kong’s functioning capitalist economy is likely what is keeping Beijing from extending their reach into the city’s “system” any further.

Local politicians argue safety has returned to Hong Kong under the NSL. While it is undoubtedly true that Hong Kong, like most Chinese cities, is largely safe from violent crime, the overwhelming police presence and high punishment for exhibiting a dissident opinion or identity underscores that physical safety, as important as it is, is only one part of what makes a person feel safe.

Hong Kong politician, Regina Ip, says “I think most of us are happy. The numbers of people affected are actually very limited. The national security laws are irrelevant to most people in Hong Kong”. Most people I’ve spoken with in Hong Kong today are indeed content, living their lives, and making money, disinterested in the politics happening around them, or at least resigned to it. No one talks about the protests that filled the city four years ago.

Yet, 300 arrests have been made under the NSL so far. Dozens of news outlets have left the city. Bookstores have taken books off shelves. Companies have preemptively aligned their data policies with Beijing’s. And people self-censor every day.

In the early 2000s, Hong Kong was a vibrant regional media hub. But in the last 20 years, Hong Kong has dropped more than 118 places in Reporters Without Borders’ press freedom index. The prestigious Hong Kong Foreign Correspondents' Club suspended its annual Human Rights Press Awards after the NSL, and only operates today largely thanks to the premium associates pay to join rather than a declining press membership.

Although it would appear there is little to no space for free political discussion anymore, like my experience living in Beijing in 2019, reality is not always black and white. I study nationalism at a Hong Kong university, and to my knowledge I am yet to encounter external censorship of my work. I run a chapter of the global organisation Young China Watchers, where we regularly host discussions on global affairs.

There is a big difference between having a conversation about politics in a restaurant among friends, and protesting against the government on the street. That is what makes Hong Kong, and China, only “partly free”.

About the author

Ciara Morris

Ciara Morris is a PhD Candidate at City University of Hong Kong, and Director of Young China Watchers Hong Kong Chapter.

Topics

Hong Kong