Underground Front

The first words uttered by the Chinese Communist Party’s new representative in Hong Kong as he stepped off the train from Guangzhou were: “I am here for the reunification of the motherland.” Replacing Wang Kuang, Xu Jiatun arrived in Hong Kong on 30 June 1983, exactly fourteen years before the colony would become a Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China. In his role as the director of Xinhua Hong Kong, Xu was tasked with devising a strategy and an implementation plan for China to take back Hong Kong from the British. His time in Hong Kong shaped the early process for identifying the individuals and groups that would form the post-colonial political establishment. Beijing’s position on recovering sovereignty over Hong Kong was based on certain assumptions about its understanding of Hong Kong’s capitalist society, which continue to have an effect even today because the design of the post-1997 political system is based on them. Its united front strategy and tactics were likewise based on those assumptions.

The departure of Wang Kuang, the former director of Xinhua Hong Kong, in the midst of the Sino-British negotiation in May 1983 was a surprise to the leftist camp. Whilst it was said that Wang was replaced for health reasons, it was more likely that he was felt to have lacked the right credentials to deal with the complex issues arising from British to Chinese rule.1 Wang was considered politically too conservative. Several of the top leaders had apparently thought Wang was “too left”.2 He was said to have disapproved of the establishment of the Special Economic Zones, and discouraged some infrastructure and philanthropic projects proposed by Hong Kong businessmen.3 Nevertheless, during his time, Xinhua Hong Kong had begun to reach out to important figures in Hong Kong as part of its united front plan. For example, Xinhua Hong Kong extended an invitation to Chung Sze Yuen who was the senior member of the Executive Council by then, Kan Yuet Keung who had retired from politics, and T. K. Ann, the industrialist, to join the CPPCC in early 1982. Chung and Kan turned down the offer but Ann accepted. In March 1983, Xinhua Hong Kong extended the offer once more to Chung and said the offer would remain open indefinitely.4 In addition, Xinhua Hong Kong was actively organising trips from the autumn of 1982 for businessmen to visit Beijing to meet top leaders.5

Xu Jiatun was the first secretary of the Jiangsu CCP, the top party cadre in the province. He was also a member of the CCP Central Committee, and thus a high-ranking official in the party hierarchy. While he had no Hong Kong or foreign affairs experience, he impressed Deng Xiaoping with his work in Jiangsu, which was why he was sought for the job in Hong Kong. To boost Xu’s political authority, the CCP upgraded CCP Hong Kong to a provincial rank organ putting it directly under the CCP Central Committee. Thus, CCP Hong Kong and the State Council’s Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office became units of equal rank within China’s political hierarchy. This lifted the importance of Xinhua Hong Kong to that of a first-rank, centrally controlled organisation. The head of the Hong Kong party organ enjoyed ministerial rank.6 Moreover, Xu’s seniority in the party meant that his position was on par with that of Ji Pengfei, who succeeded Liao Chengzhi as head of the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office although, having been foreign minister (1972–1974), Ji had greater prestige.

Xu’s seniority gave him a lot of latitude to act as he saw fit. He reported directly to the CCP Central Committee or State Council depending on the subject and, where foreign affairs were involved, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs would be copied. This led to turf conflicts between Xu and the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office. There would be many differences of opinion between Xinhua Hong Kong under Xu Jiatun and the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office that sowed seeds of mutual distrust.7 After Xu Jiatun’s departure in 1990, Xinhua Hong Kong would be downgraded back to what it was prior to Xu’s arrival (Chapter 9).8 Xu disclosed that he had problems with Li Hou and Lu Ping at the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office, as well as Zhou Nan (who would succeed Xu in the future) at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. In Xu’s view, they were giving Beijing a carefully varnished view of Hong Kong, claiming that the public were impatient for reunification, when there was in fact plenty of scepticism.9 Perhaps to admit that Hong Kong people felt otherwise would be an admission that the united front had failed in their job. The question of accuracy of briefing about Hong Kong would continue to be a challenge even after reunification.

To reabsorb Hong Kong—and also Macao and Taiwan in due course—insisting on the acceptance of communism would not do. Thus, practically, reunification must allow Hong Kong’s capitalist system to continue. However, as Xu Jiatun observed, there was nothing in Marxist thinking that envisaged the practice of safeguarding a capitalist system over a long period of time under the leadership of a communist party. He acknowledged that the one country, two systems formula enshrined in the Sino-British Joint Declaration presented a brand new mission and a great challenge to the CCP, and it would require new thinking to get the job done.10 Moreover, the Four Cardinal Principles, as Deng Xiaoping had said, would not be applied to Hong Kong. As Hong Kong would not operate a communist system, it could not be run by communists. Thus, the implementation of one country, two systems required “Hong Kong people ruling Hong Kong” and by definition, that meant an administration run by the bourgeoisie, not the working class. The future government structure should therefore be dominated by the capitalist class.11 Interestingly, Xu Jiatun observed that cadres should therefore not be involved in running Hong Kong, but if a cadre (whose party identity was hidden) should take part in the administration of Hong Kong, he still had to implement non-communist policies, and even if the CCP should pass a contrary directive, he should refuse to execute it.12 Perhaps it was this belief that got him into trouble in 1989 (Chapter 9).

Xu Jiatun had access to the Sino-British negotiations from June 1983, after his appointment, but just before he arrived in Hong Kong. He would continue to be briefed on how the British shaped their position. He could see how the British would use the economic card and the public opinion card to their advantage. It was his duty to help counter them. However, upon taking office, he soon found that CCP Hong Kong did not have an overall strategy to cope with the return of sovereignty to the Mainland. By November 1983, Xu had set out a work plan, which was discussed at a specially held meeting in Shenzhen with members of CCP Hong Kong, as well as representatives from various party branches and groups. The plan had six aspects and would guide their work in the coming years:

2. During the transitional period, China’s strategy was both to struggle against, as well as to unify with Britain in order to ensure the return of a stable and prosperous Hong Kong to Chinese rule.

3. The Hong Kong CCP would rely on the working class and a widely based patriotic united front to implement its plan.

4. The Hong Kong CCP would publicise patriotism, and promote one country, two systems. Criticism of communism and positive publicity about capitalism would be allowed.

5. For the prosperity of Hong Kong, the Hong Kong CCP would make the British hongs stay, appease the local Chinese businessmen, unify overseas Chinese businesses, and strengthen Mainland-financed companies.

6. The Hong Kong CCP would reorganise the teams of cadres in Hong Kong to meet the new challenges.13

A critical component of achieving the strategy required Xu Jiatun to rebuild the united front in Hong Kong and to extend it far and wide.

What was the legal status of Xinhua Hong Kong? Registered as a news organisation, it was an open secret that it was the front for the CCP in Hong Kong. Under Hong Kong law, any organised group was required to apply to the Registrar of Societies for registration. Exemption from registration might be granted by the Registrar to those societies that were established solely for charitable purposes. The law was explicit that the Registrar may deny approval and registration of any group if the society was a branch or affiliate or connected with any organisation or groups of a political nature established outside Hong Kong. The CCP did not seek registration or exemption from registration from the Hong Kong government, and the Hong Kong authorities did not make a fuss, otherwise each would find the other’s position intolerable. On the one hand, why should the ruling party of China, which claimed sovereignty over Hong Kong, seek registration from an imperialist authority? On the other hand, why should the British have to accept formally the CCP’s operation in the colony? It was better to ignore the issue of legality of the CCP’s presence in Hong Kong altogether. It became the habit of all concerned not to speak about it at all. An interesting question was how the CCP’s activities were funded in Hong Kong prior to 1997. While party work in Hong Kong would have formed part of China’s national budget, it was likely that, because foreign exchange was involved, Xinhua Hong Kong received its funding from Mainland-controlled organisations in Hong Kong, such as the Hong Kong Branch of the Bank of China.14

During Xu Jiatun’s time in Hong Kong from 1983 to 1990, the number of staff at Xinhua grew from about 100 to about 400 people. Xu had wanted 600 people. However, his successor, Zhou Nan, did build the workforce within Xinhua Hong Kong to 600 people by the time of the transition (Chapter 9). Xu built up a structure that approximated the Hong Kong government’s key departments relating to economic affairs, finance, trade, air transport, education, culture, and sports as part of the takeover strategy, as well as restructuring Xinhua’s departments for united front and its related work (see Table 2).

When he took up his post, he found morale low among Hong Kong cadres. Many of them took part in the 1967 riots out of a sense of patriotism and anti-imperialism, but they were then criticised and had been feeling disgruntled ever since. Membership had not been growing. Xu could see that the party was not in good shape to take on the work needed to implement one country, two systems and a major reshuffle was necessary. He announced four transformations and got to work immediately: he would revolutionise, rejuvenate, specialise, and intellectualise Xinhua Hong Kong.15 Xu changed the name of the United Front Work Department to that of the Coordination Department. The term “united front” had a heavy communist-propagandist flavour, which he found put people off in Hong Kong. Xu also set up the Youth Work Leading Group and the Women Work Leading Group so as to target young people and women in Hong Kong as part of their united front efforts. Mostly importantly, the party set up three branches to launch work in the community on Hong Kong Island, in Kowloon Tong and in Shatin.16

As for intelligence work, Xu Jiatun unified it under the Security Department. Intelligence work was done in all sectors of the community, but there were possibly too many contacts and informants of low quality in Hong Kong. Mainland officials sent to manage intelligence work in Hong Kong were professionals mostly sent by the Ministry of Public Security and Ministry of National Security. The task of the personnel from Public Security was to take care of the security of Xinhua Hong Kong and other Mainland-owned institutions. A small number of them were also responsible for intelligence work. All those sent from National Security were involved in intelligence work. It was nevertheless agreed by the ministries that, after the merging of their operations, some particularly important “connections” (agents carrying out top secret missions) would still be directly controlled by them but the director of Xinhua Hong Kong would be kept informed. During Xu’s time, agents under the Security Department were able to provide important information related to the Sino-British negotiations and were twice commended by the Ministry of National Security and Ministry of Foreign Affairs.17

There were other intelligence personnel in Hong Kong, which were harder for Xu Jiatun to control. The Central Military Commission, which had intelligence personnel in Hong Kong, did not agree to merge their agents within the Xinhua’s new Security Department although it agreed to keep the director informed. Moreover, the national security departments of the coastal provinces, such as Jiangsu, Zhejiang and Fujian, as well as military regions, such as the Guangzhou and Nanjing military regions, also had agents in Hong Kong.18 Thus, there were many intelligence agents in Hong Kong from a variety of Mainland units, who more often than not did not know each other nor were operating with the full knowledge of Xinhua Hong Kong. Xu Jiatun had also observed that agents were therefore not well managed.19

More importantly, Xu calculated that the Hong Kong authorities knew who the key cadres were and what Xinhua Hong Kong did in Hong Kong. The Hong Kong authorities tapped Xinhua’s telephone calls around the clock and so could be assumed to know a lot about their activities. Whenever Xu had something important to report to Beijing, he would go to Shenzhen to make calls.20 Thus, on the one hand, cadres might as well be allowed to attend public occasions, although they would not use their party affiliation since the CCP was, and remains, an underground organisation in Hong Kong. On the other hand, it was necessary to “develop an absolutely secret new organisation” to undertake upper level work.21 Presumably this was done, although there is understandably no record of it.

Generally, Xu Jiatun appointed new and younger people, bringing the average age at Xinhua Hong Kong from 65 years down to 55 years. He requested high quality and experienced cadres for transfer from Guangdong, Fujian, Jiangsu, Zhejiang and Shanghai,22 thereby changing the regional mix of Xinhua personnel, which used to be dominated by the Cantonese. He reduced the number of deputy directors from six to four.23 Xu promoted two local Hong Kong party cadres as assistant deputy directors.24 Xu Jiatun also separated the political functions and the news functions of Xinhua Hong Kong. He moved the news section from the Xinhua headquarters in Happy Valley to Sharp Street in Wan Chai. He introduced a degree of transparency to Xinhua Hong Kong. He allowed its organisational structure to be made public. In the past, since Xinhua Hong Kong was presented as a news agency, the personnel responsible for political work were all supposedly “journalists”. After Xu’s arrival, the titles of the various departments were changed to correspond with their actual functions.25 The line-up at the most senior level of China’s presence in Hong Kong after reorganisation in 1986 was as follows:

Deputy Directors of CCP Hong Kong: Qiao Zhonghuai, Mao Junnian, Zhang Junsheng, and Pan Zengxi.

When Xu Jiatun first arrived at Hong Kong, he stated that he hoped to perform a bridging role between Beijing and Hong Kong and make Beijing’s policies accord with the practical situation of Hong Kong.27 Safeguarding capitalism for a long time became the foundation of united front work in Hong Kong.

Deng Xiaoping had said that the goal of united front work in Hong Kong was to get people to “love the motherland and Hong Kong”. It was not a prerequisite to “support socialism and the leadership of CCP” as practised on the Mainland. Deng further said that those cadres conducting united front work in Hong Kong had to be bold enough to make friends even with “right-wingers and spies”. In CCP-speak, “right-wingers” were those in the upper strata of society who were pro-British, pro-American, and pro-Taiwan.28 In other words, united front work in Hong Kong must include the establishment, not just the party’s traditional targets of workers, intellectuals, teachers and students. That required a significant departure in ideological terms for the CCP, but oddly enough the CCP had never disdained the elites. Indeed, the party took their traditional targets for granted, and gave special attention and priority to cultivating the elites. Many businessmen would do well out of their Mainland connections.

Xu Jiatun’s major united front targets were the leading figures among the Hong Kong political elites. Xu and his deputies held regular meetings to exchange views with several executive councillors—Chung Sze Yuen, Lydia Dunn (who would succeed Chung as the senior member in 1988), and Lee Quo Wei (chairman of the Hang Seng Bank)—throughout the Sino-British negotiations. The first meeting took place on 15 August 1983 at a dinner hosted by the vice-chancellor of the Chinese University of Hong Kong. After that, regular secret rendezvous were organised until the Sino-British Joint Declaration was concluded after which meetings became less frequent. After each meeting, while Chung reported the discussion to the governor, Xu reported to Beijing.29 In the early days, the executive councillors suggested using a “company” approach to solve the Hong Kong problem. China should resume sovereignty and become like the chairman of a company’s board of directors, and retain Britain as the general manager to continue the day-to-day running of Hong Kong.30 In addition to smoothing communication between Beijing and Hong Kong, another function of these meetings was to assess acceptability and reaction to Beijing’s ideas prior to making them public. As commented by Chung Sze Yuen, Xu “wanted to test its rhetoric on us inside the room and broadcast the same on the outside through its media”.31 Another person Xu cultivated was legislator Maria Tam, who also proposed the same company solution as the executive councillors.32 Tam would turn out to be one of the most successful post-colonial elites as she was still relatively young at the time of reunification (Chapter 10).

The CCP’s contacts with senior Hong Kong government officials also became more frequent. There was an active campaign to cultivate civil servants close to retirement and those who had just retired, in case there might be a need to call upon their services in the future. Moreover, having them on-side, created a sense that people who could administer Hong Kong could be called upon by Beijing to serve should it be necessary. Former civil servants who had been actively cultivated included Li Kwan Ha, a former commissioner of police, and Nicky Chan, a former secretary for lands and works. Converts included Donald Liao, a former secretary for home affairs, and Wilfred Wong, a former deputy secretary in the former Civil Service Branch. Wong, like Maria Tam, was relatively young and could expect to be useful after 1997. There were also two High Court judges—Arthur Garcia and Benjamin Liu, an Appeal Court judge—Simon Li, and a chief justice—T. L. Yang, who were cultivated. Interestingly, Garcia, Li, and Yang thought they had a chance to become the first Chief Executive. Garcia briefly put his name forward in 1996 as a candidate, Li actually did but did not get the required number of nominations (a minimum of 50 from among Selection Committee members) to get to the starting blocks, and Yang actually did get through to the selection, but lost to Tung Chee Hwa by a large margin. Tung invited Yang to sit on the Executive Council, which Yang accepted.

According to CCP Hong Kong’s analysis of class in Hong Kong, the community had three main strata—the big capitalists, middle class, and workers. All of them wanted to protect and promote their interests after 1997. The party concluded that:

The top political echelon of Hong Kong must adapt to its capitalist economic structure and class structure, so Hong Kong’s future political system will have the local patriotic capitalists as the main body, and ally with other classes to form a non-socialist political system. At present, Hong Kong has already witnessed many prominent industrialists, businessmen, professionals, and their organisations actively participating in local political activities, reflecting this trend.33

Thus it was essential for the party to cultivate the big capitalists. Beijing’s worry was not just over the potential for massive capital outflow and emigration from Hong Kong by these wealthy entrepreneurs, although they had legitimate reasons to be concerned. After all, Hong Kong provided two-thirds of total direct investments to the Mainland from 1979 to 1995. Beyond that, however, Chinese official analysis saw Hong Kong capitalism not just as a structure of competitive markets and institutions, but in terms of an economic and political system dominated by a small group of businessmen supported by pro-business government policies. Their research would have included the works of academics who have explained the success of colonial administration in terms of a process of “administrative absorption of politics by which the government co-opt[ed] the political forces, often represented by elite groups, into an administration decision-making body”.34 It may also be that they had viewed instances of mass, radical agitation—such as those times in the 1920s, 1950s and 1960s noted in Chapters 3, 5 and 6—as outcomes of overflowing patriotism and anti-imperialism rather than internally generated social discontent. They may have concluded that the workers’ movement was relatively weak in Hong Kong, and in any case, the CCP already controlled the FTU and thus could count of its support when necessary.35

It was thought that if the major capitalists could be convinced of China’s position, it would be less difficult to get the middle class to follow. Xu Jiatun noted that capitalists in Hong Kong could be grouped into factions, like the Guangdong, Shanghai and Fujian factions, and those with Southeast Asian backgrounds. The key targets were about a dozen of the top tycoons, including Pao Yue Kong, Li Ka Shing, Kwok Tak Sing, Run Run Shaw, and Cha Chi Min. Henry Fok could already be counted to be on-side in view of his longstanding connection to the Mainland, and was already a member of the CPPCC.

Xu perceived that a “businessman’s political inclination is normally linked to his business. He would side with whomever would support him.”36 Thus, it was useful to nurture a group of patriotic businessmen. It would hit two birds with one stone. Bringing these capitalists on side would help China to deal with Britain’s economic card since the capitalists could keep the economy chugging along, and their support would also counter the British public opinion card that Hong Kong people preferred the status quo. When a number of Hong Kong’s prominent businessmen ran into financial trouble and sought Xu’s help, he was willing to find ways to support them. They would no doubt feel they owed China a debt in the future when a favour needed to be called in. Xu was not the first to go out of his way to do this in fact. It is a part of Hong Kong’s political lore that Beijing saved Tung Chee Hwa’s shipping company from bankruptcy in the mid-1980s through a capital injection through Henry Fok, and the Bank of China provided a credit line as well.37 Xu disclosed in his memoirs that he helped entrepreneur Fung King Hei for example when he had financial problems.38

As for the middle class, CCP Hong Kong’s analysis of this group was that its constituents had a strong impulse to advance and that they were more or less satisfied with the existing social ladder, although there were signs of demands for a democratic environment with equal opportunities. To bring the middle class on-side, Xu Jiatun sought to improve CCP Hong Kong’s policy toward left-wing organisation on the one hand and strengthen connections with civil society organisations on the other hand. New departments were set up at Xinhua Hong Kong to focus on united front work with the middle class with special emphasis on the science, technology, sports and cultural sectors. Moreover, teachers in middle and primary schools were to be targeted.

Xu Jiatun became a man to be seen around town and to be seen with. He sought the company of the rich, the famous, the infamous and entertainment stars. He attended many public and private functions, ranging from banquets, weddings, funerals to sports event and drama performances. He made speeches to business associations and at universities. He invited many guests to meals and friendly chats at the Xinhua Hong Kong office. He even attended the first anniversary celebration of Meeting Point, a new pro-democracy pressure group, which indicated that at the time, Xu was prepared to cultivate even pro-democracy activists in support of Hong Kong’s return to China. Looking back at the CCP’s united front history, such as noted in Chapter 4, of reaching out to as many people from all walks of life as possible, Xu was following in the party’s pragmatic tradition. It was from 1985 that the CCP became anxious about the timing and extent of democratic reform, and the united front became more circumspect about nurturing democracy activists.

Xu Jiatun was a popular figure among Hong Kong journalists because of his willingness to make comments. He even made one of the most popular television stars of the time, Lisa Wang Ming Chuen, a delegate to the 7th NPC in an attempt to win the support of the cultural sector—a classic united front tactic to unite with leading figures in the arts.39 A powerful tool that Xu had was the ability to organise trips to Beijing for those he wanted to cultivate, so that they could meet top Chinese leaders, including Deng Xiaoping. These pilgrimages to the Chinese capital proved most effective. For the ambitious, there was nothing like being close to the seat of power and to think one could influence the thinking and actions of the leaders.

However, the strategy of co-opting capitalists and upper middle class people led to criticisms within the traditional leftist camp that old faithfuls and the lower classes were neglected. “Xu Jiatun put too much emphasis on the united front work in the upper and middle classes, but he neglected the grassroots. Xu seemed to have an illusion that the grassroots people would support him, which was not true. The problem of such practice was that, first, the elite-mass gap would be enlarged and second, the problem of confidence crisis could not be directly solved.”40 Some leftists further remarked that Xu “looked down” on those from grassroots level and under his leadership “the eyes of the Xinhua News Agency only looked at upper class and business sector”.41

Xu Jiatun’s own writings indicated that he felt he needed to cultivate social contacts that the CCP did not have in Hong Kong, which required him to reach out to capitalists, entrepreneurs, middle-class professionals, and celebrities. Old-time leftists were unhappy that capitalists and the bourgeoisie would run Hong Kong. As such, Xu did not think that the existing cadres and supporters could deliver on the goal of safeguarding capitalism. Indeed, the left-wing unions in particular needed to be re-organised since they had become almost dormant after the 1967 riots. The unions should therefore stop pushing for the realisation of socialism and should work for the welfare of workers in Hong Kong instead, otherwise it would run counter to the need to safeguard capitalism. Where conflicts arose between workers and capitalists, the left-wing unions should adopt a policy that would be beneficial to both management and labour and seek a solution through consultation rather than resort to strikes. The left-wing labour unions could not be too happy about being put in such a straitjacket but they did not have much choice.

The party nurtured new and younger union leaders, such as Tam Yiu Chung and Chan Yuen Han in place of old ones. Tam would rise to become a legislator (1985–2016) and executive councillor (1997–2002), and Chan would become a member of the Legislative Council (1995–2008 and 2012–2016). Thus, when there was a taxi-driver strike in 1985, when strikers petitioned Xinhua Hong Kong, the strikers were urged to settle matters with the Hong Kong government. The Chinese did not want to be seen to be fomenting strikes, boycotts and riots, as the communists were seen to have done in 1922 with the Seamen’s Strike, in 1925–1926 with the Guangdong–Hong Kong Strike-Boycott and in particular during the 1956 and 1967 riots (see Chapters 3, 5, and 6). Xu Jiatun even attempted to unify the three factions of unions in Hong Kong—those on the left, the right (pro-Taiwan) and those that were neither left nor right (referred to as “neutral”) but it did not work.42

There were other voices emerging in Hong Kong that were of minor interest to Xinhua Hong Kong prior to the conclusion of the Sino-British Joint Declaration. These were not the voices of the then establishment representing business or the British colonial authorities. These voices were mostly of Hong Kong Chinese who were born and raised in Hong Kong and strongly identified with Hong Kong as their home. They were on the whole better educated and some had lived overseas. They called for solid guarantees that a high degree of autonomy and Hong Kong people ruling Hong Kong meant the post-1997 political system would be underpinned by a democratic system of free and fair elections. For example, Meeting Point—mentioned above—was one such group. Many of its former members would become politicians in the coming years.43 Another group was the Hong Kong Observers, a pressure group made up of young professionals. Some of their members would also become prominent politicians and opinion-shapers in the years to come.44 In 1982, they commissioned Hong Kong’s first detailed public opinion survey to ascertain the degree of concern over the future of Hong Kong, which neither the British nor the Chinese found to their liking. The Chinese did not want to hear that Hong Kong people had real concerns about Chinese rule and that keeping the status quo had majority support. The British did not want to know that Chinese sovereignty with real autonomy could nevertheless be acceptable.45 Neither the British nor the Chinese needed to pay much attention to these inconvenient voices after they struck their deal in September 1984.

With the formal signing of the Sino-British Joint Declaration in Beijing on 19 December 1984, Beijing invited 101 VIPs from Hong Kong to witness the event. The list was agreed upon after “cordial consultations” between China and Britain.46 The occasion was seen as a golden united front opportunity to cultivate important people, especially right-wingers and Hong Kong government officials. The list included senior Hong Kong civil servants, such as Nicky Chan and Anson Chan; British corporate leaders, such as Michael Miles of Swire & Sons and Michael Sandberg of the Hongkong & Shanghai Banking Corporation; Chinese tycoons, such as Pao Yue Kong, Li Ka Shing, Lee Quo Wei, Francis Tien, Lee Shau Kee, Gordon Wu, Stanley Ho, Cha Chi Ming, and Henry Fok; Hong Kong political figures, such as Chung Sze Yuen, Selina Chow, Maria Tam, Roger Lobo, and Stephen Cheong; Justice Simon Li; actress Liza Wang Ming Chuen; Hong Kong professional and community leaders, such as Martin Lee, Szeto Wah, Elsie Elliot (Tu), Mak Hoi Wah, and Lau Wong Fat, as well as people in leftists circles, including Percy Chen, Yeung Kwong, Fei Yi Ming, and Tam Yiu Chung.

After the Sino-British Joint Declaration was signed, Hong Kong entered into its transitional phase to Chinese rule. The most important task was to prevent any opposition to the resumption of sovereignty, and the second was to ensure Hong Kong continued to support the Mainland economically and financially. A third important task was to nurture a group of “status markers” who could populate the post-1997 political system under Chinese rule.47 This would also be the group that would help to draft and provide views to the Basic Law drafting process. All of these tasks required continuous united front and propaganda work from the CCP to keep up confidence and to instil a belief that Hong Kong under Chinese rule would be even better than under British rule.

The status markers were familiar faces, as many of them were the same as those who had played a similar role under British rule. The need to preserve capitalism for half a century in post-1997 Hong Kong meant that some members of the business elites (from the families that owned banking, industrial, trading and real estate companies, together with the senior executives of major public companies, as well as leading professionals) would be chosen to help run Hong Kong. The drafting and consultation on the Basic Law involved most of the notable business and professional elites, making those processes a huge united front exercise the purpose of which was to give the post-1997 constitution a semblance of legitimacy.

The Sino-British Joint Declaration had served its purpose in embodying the political settlement on the question of Hong Kong. It would be referred to less and less, while the Basic Law would attempt to resolve the inherent contradictions between the Mainland, which operates a Leninist political system in which the supremacy of the CCP cannot be challenged, and Hong Kong’s capitalist system underpinned by a liberal tradition, the rule of law and an independent judiciary.

Ji Pengfei promised that the drafting process would include “collecting the opinions of Hong Kong people so that the opinion of the majority would be reflected”.48 Influential Hong Kong people from various walks of life would have to be formally co-opted into the drafting process. It would be through their endorsement of both the process and the outcome that Beijing could claim the Basic Law was acceptable to Hong Kong. Furthermore, the elaborate drafting and consultative process to produce the Basic Law was essential to show the people of Hong Kong—as well as the people of Macao and Taiwan—that Beijing meant what it said, that there would be one country, two systems, a high degree of autonomy and the local people ruling themselves.

The creation of the Basic Law had three aspects. Firstly, there was the drafting of the post-1997 constitution itself. Secondly, there was the putting together and management of a drafting committee. Thirdly, there was the appointment of a broader consultative committee to show the eventual constitution had wide support. The whole exercise, which lasted from 1985 to 1989, was a massive united front–propaganda challenge, where the Xinhua Hong Kong and the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office played the most important roles. It was a highly controlled process, but there were many moments of drama, although at the end it was clear that real decision-making power was preserved in the CCP’s hands.

The purpose of the Basic Law was never to dovetail with the Sino-British Joint Declaration. It is an instrument for Beijing to exert sovereignty post-1997. The CCP’s policy was that there should be no substantial democratic development in Hong Kong. The drafting instructions for the Basic Law could be seen from the utterances of Deng Xiaoping on 16 April 1987 listing the overriding principles in drafting the post-1997 constitution:

• The provisions should not be too detailed. The key was to put down the principles. This was the same attitude adopted on the Chinese side with the Sino-British Joint Declaration (Chapter 7).

• The Hong Kong post-1997 system should not be a complete Western system. The separation of executive, legislative and judicial powers was inappropriate. The future HKSAR system should be an executive-led system.

• Universal suffrage should not take place immediately. Even if warranted, it should be introduced gradually and step-by-step.

• The central authorities in Beijing should monitor the HKSAR but it would not need to interfere directly. The Hong Kong executive organ would intervene. Only if major disturbances broke out would military forces be used.49

Deng Xiaoping elaborated that the key to political success was to devise and keep to the right policies and direction and as long as a legislative body stayed on track, it would avoid wrangling and society would prosper.50

While Hong Kong appointees were given a role on the drafting body to create the Basic Law, and Hong Kong appointees made up a large consultative committee to provide views, the invisible, and sometimes not so invisible, hand of the CCP was always there to control the outcome. The process for organising the drafting of the Basic Law followed the classic CCP operation method to create the impression and semblance that something had wide support. Referred to as the “two ups, two downs” process, selected Hong Kong people would be involved in initial work on the Basic Law draft, which would be submitted to Beijing, and Beijing would then send it back to Hong Kong for further consultation. More work would then be done and resubmitted to Beijing for promulgation. The method is based on Mao Zedong’s idea of “from the masses to the masses”, which requires the party to operate by:

taking the ideas of the masses (scattered and unsystematic ideas) and concentrate them (. . . turn them into concentrated and systematic ideas), then go to the masses and propagate and explain these ideas until the masses embrace them as their own, hold fast to them and translate them into action.51

In June 1985, the creation of a Basic Law Drafting Committee (BLDC) was announced in Beijing. As a working group of the NPC, the BLDC was appointed by and reported to the national legislature. It had a total of 59 members, 36 from the Mainland and 23 from Hong Kong. The criteria for appointment were that the Mainland should be those who were familiar with Hong Kong, and some should be legal and constitutional experts, and the Hong Kong members should be patriotic, familiar with the situation of Hong Kong, and have professional knowledge of a particular sector. Xu Jiatun played a key role in deciding who from Hong Kong should be on the BLDC. In terms of selection of the Hong Kong members, it was supposed to reflect a balance of views,52 so as to “let people with different political inclinations fully reflect the views of the Hong Kong Chinese people”.53 A key purpose was to “balance the opinions and interests of different people, especially for the purpose of realising the Sino-British Joint Declaration, and the spirit of the future Basic Law while following the principle of involving a majority of the people, with the ultimate goal of bringing stability and with stability, prosperity”.54

However, the key positions on the BLDC were also held by either Chinese officials or people Beijing trusted. The chairman of the BLDC was Ji Pengfei. There were 8 vice-chairmen: Xu Jiatun, Wang Han Bin (secretary general of the NPC), Hu Sheng (director, Party Research Centre of the CCP Central Committee), Fei Xiaotong (one of China’s most respected anthropologists and sociologists), T. K. Ann (an industrialist and member of the CPPCC),55 Pao Yue Kong (a shipping tycoon), Fei Yi Ming (publisher of Ta Kung Pao, member of the NPC and member of the Legal Commission under the SCNPC), and David K. P. Li (chairman of the Bank of East Asia). The appointment of Pao and Li as vice-chairmen, together with that of T. K. Ann, showed Beijing’s desire to form a political alliance with the capitalists. This deliberate strategy has been described as the “political absorption of economics”.56 Moreover, Ann and Pao represented the Shanghai and Li the Cantonese factions, two important business groups. All of the Hong Kong vice-chairmen were politically conservative, and therefore unlikely to object to Beijing’s ideas for Hong Kong’s future political arrangements.

In total, there were twelve tycoons among the Hong Kong members. Among the other Hong Kong appointees, besides pro-China figures, it could be seen that their appointments followed the classic united front formula of including a variety of sectors to show the BLDC represented many interests in Hong Kong. Those who represented the then establishment included two UMELCO57 members (Maria Tam and Wong Po Yan, a prominent businessman) and an Appeal Court Judge (Simon Li). The Chinese side had sounded out the Hong Kong government on their appointments.58 Other appointees included old faithfuls, such as the elderly Mok Ying Kwai (Chapter 5), the chairman of the Heung Yee Kuk (Lau Wong Fat); the vice-chancellors of two universities; a bishop to represent the religious sector; senior professionals; a left-wing trade unionist (Tam Yiu Chung), and even two liberal voices who had been calling for greater democracy (Martin Lee, a barrister and Szeto Wah, a teacher and head of the Professional Teachers Union). The inclusion of Lee and Szeto was in line with united front practice of offering membership to a small number of vocal critics so that they could be controlled through rules of procedures.59 Lee and Szeto would become two of Hong Kong’s most famous politicians after 1989. In 1984, Xu Jiatun even invited Szeto to join the CCP, likely because Szeto had wanted to join the party when he was young. The invitation was declined.60 Tam Yiu Chung and Lau Wong Fat would also enjoy longevity in Hong Kong politics—as legislators (both until 2016) and both had a stint as executive councillor. Of the thirty-six Mainland BLDC members, fifteen were officials concerned with various aspects of Mainland relations with Hong Kong, and eleven were legal specialists. With the number of Mainland members exceeding the number of Hong Kong members by a safe margin, Beijing had overwhelming numerical superiority on the committee. The members of the BLDC were divided into five sub-groups, each group focussing on one area of discussion.

The BLDC’s Secretariat was located in Beijing and made up of the officials who worked directly on Hong Kong affairs. The secretary-general was Li Hou, the deputy director of the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office, and the two deputy secretary-generals were Lu Ping and Mao Junnian, a deputy director of CCP Hong Kong. At the request of the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office, a special Research Department was set up within Xinhua Hong Kong to gather all the comments, models and recommendations on political systems and political development put forward by people in society. The materials would be considered by CCP Hong Kong, the Research Department would prepare reports for the Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office and the BLDC. The Research Department’s heads were Mao Junnian and Qiao Zhonghuai, both deputy directors of CCP Hong Kong.61

At the first meeting of the BLDC on 1 July 1985 in Beijing, a plan was tabled by Ji Pengfei for a Basic Law Consultative Committee (BLCC) to be formed so that more people from Hong Kong could be involved. The more important BLDC was too small in size to accommodate all the prominent people in Hong Kong the united front wanted to cultivate. Twenty-five of the Hong Kong members of the BLDC formed a Sponsors’ Committee to work on setting up the BLCC. The five BLDC vice-chairmen residing in Hong Kong, which included Xu Jiatun, were asked to take up the preparatory work for setting up the BLCC. Xinhua Hong Kong provided the necessary assistance. The Hong Kong BLDC members drafted the constitution of the BLCC, which would have one hundred and eighty members. Three of the tycoons on the committee provided the necessary funds to cover costs. The secretary of the BLCC was Mao Junnian, and T. K. Ann was the chairman. Mao was later replaced by Leung Chun Ying, a surveyor and obviously a young man who would go places in the future. The BLCC membership would be like a Who’s Who list of VIPs in Hong Kong at the time with a handful of social activists.

Xu Jiatun had wanted to include senior British appointees to the Executive and Legislative Councils in the BLCC. Chung Sze Yuen, the most senior member of the Executive Council, and his counterpart in the Legislative Council, Lydia Dunn, were both approached since Xu had been cultivating relationship with them for some time. They both turned down the invitation. Chung noted that: “Dunn and I agreed that since we were both senior advisors to the Hong Kong governor and were privy to sensitive documents, including papers pertaining to Sino-British relations, we might diminish our roles were we to join the BLCC . . . If there were any leak of classified information one day . . . the blame for that would rest with us and affect our public standing.”62

Xu Jiatun and the party machinery controlled membership to the BLCC although there were supposedly three ways for the selection of its members: certain associations and groups could recommend their people to be appointed; BLDC members could appoint members; and individuals and groups could apply to be considered. The final body that emerged had people from nine major sectors of interests. Most of them were identified by the BLDC as “representative organisations” in those sectors that took on a similar ring to that of the functional constituencies created for the 1985 Legislative Council election. For such a large body, it was important to include a number of social activists who were calling for a faster pace of democratic reform—such as Lee Wing Tat and Frederick Fung, who would both have long careers as legislators—but their voices could easily be overwhelmed by the majority, who were much more conservative.

The BLCC came to life on 18 December 1985 and immediately got mired in controversies. Firstly, it came to light that a liberal-minded unionist, Lau Chin Shek of the Christian Industrial Committee, was initially nominated by a labour joint conference to stand for selection among labour representatives to the BLCC. But Xu Jiatun essentially rejected Lau on the ground that “quite a few businessmen in Hong Kong resented him” and that including Lau would make him more famous.64 This meant Lau would not have the FTU’s support. He realised he would not win and decided to pull out of the election instead, which prompted independent unions to withdraw from the process as well. This incident illustrated how ill-prepared Xu was to accept someone the business elites did not like, with the result that the CCP’s failed to co-opt the working class into the process.65 Secondly, the hidden hand of the CCP was revealed over the selection of key BLCC positions. The BLCC constitution provided for seven officers to be elected from a nineteen-member executive committee, who were in turn to be elected by members. In effect, BLDC members Xu Jiatun and David Li had already selected who the seven officers should be. At the election of the BLCC executive committee, BLDC member, Pao Yue Kong, showed up to chair the meeting although he had no authority to do so not being a BLCC member. Pao ignored procedures and proceeded to read out a list of nineteen names and then directed the gathered members to elect them with a round of applause. This kind of arrangement was commonplace on the Mainland but not in Hong Kong and led to complaints. Whilst another meeting was called to rectify the violation of procedures, the same nineteen members were chosen. The seven officers were likewise also “elected”.66

A new organisation became the dominant group within the BLCC. The business and professional elites of the BLDC and the BLCC, led by Vincent Lo, formed the Business and Professional Group of the Basic Law Consultative Committee. The group came into existence initially in April 1986 with 57 members and later added another two members, and became known as The Group of 89. Subsequently, another group—the Group of 19—sprung to life. It was made up of more liberal-minded community representatives, social workers and professionals in the BLCC but this group, being small by comparison and without the resources that the business elites commanded, never enjoyed the influence that the Group of 89 had.67

A full membership list of the BLDC and BLCC is available in Appendix III and the Biographies provide more information on BLDC and BLCC members.

During much of the Sino-British negotiations, democracy was not a key issue. Preservation of the existing systems and way of life in Hong Kong was the priority, and that socialism would not be practised. Thus, it was important to ensure the HKSAR would be invested with executive, legislative and independent judicial power, that the laws then in force would remain basically unchanged, the government would be composed of Hong Kong inhabitants and not sent from the Mainland, and rights and freedoms would be protected. It was the preservation of the existing systems that China signed up to for the post-1997 regime. The tycoons and businessmen did not push for democracy, nor did members of the Executive and Legislative Councils insist on a fully representative system of government for the future. The voices from the community calling for democracy did not have to be taken too seriously into account. It was only after Britain made clear that there would be no continued British presence in Hong Kong beyond the Handover that the issue of democracy came to the fore. The British government expressed to the Chinese that a commitment to democratic reform was crucial in securing parliamentary support for the eventual settlement. The British felt that a promise that Hong Kong could look forward to democratic development would to a large extent fulfil their moral obligation to the people of the territory. Margaret Thatcher’s personal insistence on an elected legislature was crucial to prod the negotiations in that direction, since election was initially ignored by British and Hong Kong officials. The point they made to get Beijing to go along with it was that, while the Joint Declaration had already been initialled and then signed, it still had to be ratified by Parliament before it could come into effect.

Despite the importance of the subject to the six million people of Hong Kong, the parliamentary debate in the House of Commons on 5 December 1984 was poorly attended. An observer noted that only eight percent of the Members of Parliament bothered to show up and “even a good few of the forty-one MPs who had enjoyed trips to Hong Kong paid for by the Hong Kong Government saw no reason to return the courtesy”.68 On 11 December, the House of Lords debated the Hong Kong question. It was a better-attended affair than the insultingly sparse attendance at the House of Commons. Nevertheless, it was clear from the parliamentary debates that there was an understanding among the parliamentarians that introducing representative government in Hong Kong was part of the arrangements. Richard Luce, the minister of state in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (1983–1985), told that House of Commons that Britain would “build up a firmly based, democratic administration in Hong Kong in the years between now and 1997”. Baroness Janet Young, the minister of state, Foreign and Commonwealth Office (1983–1987), in the House of Lords, also stated on behalf of the British government that the planned democratic reform in Hong Kong was “entirely consistently with the provisions in the draft agreement which specified that the Legislature of the Hong Kong SAR shall be constituted by elections”.69

The insertion of the phrase “constituted by elections” to describe the future Hong Kong legislature was one of the very last points that was agreed between Britain and China. A mere seven days before the draft Joint Declaration was submitted to both governments for approval, the British raised the question of Hong Kong internal governance and managed to insert in the post-1997 Legislative Council that it “shall be constituted by elections” and that the “executive authorities shall be accountable to the legislature”.70 However, details would be a matter for China to sort out in the Basic Law.

As to what “election” meant, it was understood by the British negotiators that it need not mean multiparty election by universal suffrage. The British accepted that “elections” might include indirect elections and election through a restricted franchise.71 To the Chinese, “election” definitely did not mean universal suffrage. Elections for CCP bodies are selections where the candidates are pre-selected or approved by the party hierarchy in numbers equal or almost equal to the posts available. Since all the candidates are acceptable to the party an election could then take place. The favoured method of selection under the communist system is in fact “consultation”, which in practice is the exercise of the party’s discretion to choose whom it thinks fit. The Sino-British Joint Declaration is a bicultural document whose words reflect the values, meanings and understandings of two very different political and legal systems.72 The first “election” of the executive committee of the BLCC noted above provided an example of the gulf of difference between the Mainland understanding of election and that understood in Hong Kong.

During the Sino-British negotiations, the Hong Kong government issued a Green Paper in July 1984 on representative government, which called for two months of public consultation on political reform “to develop progressively a system of government the authority of which is firmly rooted in Hong Kong, which is able to represent the view of the people of Hong Kong, and which is more directly accountable to the people of Hong Kong”.73 As it was published before China had agreed to the phrase “constituted by elections” to the post-Handover agreement, the paper was strong on principles and weak on details. When the White Paper was published in November, after agreement with China had been secured, more could be put forward. The plan was to restructure the Legislative Council through the creation of 12 seats for functional constituencies representing specific commercial and professional interests, and another 12 seats to be returned by an electoral college made up of local public bodies. The electoral college would become the Election Committee provided by the Basic Law, and the selection methods of that body would be functional in nature. In other words, functional elections underpinned much of the new electoral system.

Before functional constituencies were introduced in Hong Kong, the colonial government appointed people from various business and professional sectors to sit as unofficial members to the Legislative Council. It was thought that these people were capable of reflecting the views of the Hong Kong community and could contribute their “specialist knowledge and value expertise” to the legislature. The functional constituencies evolved this practice into a formal one using elected representatives, and the Basic Law would entrench this in the post-1997 political system.74

As for direct election, the Hong Kong government undertook to conduct a review in 1987 because:

There was little evidence of support in public comment on the Green Paper for any move towards direct election in 1985. With few exceptions the bulk of the public response from all sources suggested a cautious approach with a gradual start by introducing a very small number of directly elected members in 1988 and building up to a significant number of directly elected members by 1997.75

The CCP watched the events relating to the Green and White Papers closely and pondered what they meant. Their conclusion was the British wanted to establish a representative government in a bid to return the administration to the people of Hong Kong instead of to China, and to shift the Executive Council’s policy-making power to the Legislative Council, which was a fundamental change to the colony’s government structure—and, contrary to Deng Xiaoping’s drafting instructions for the Basic Law. In other words, Britain was attempting to make many changes in the next 13 years of British rule that would make governing difficult for the HKSAR government in the future. In the eyes of Chinese officials, the devious British were about to launch a “democracy card” to spoil things for China. It would divide Hong Kong opinion and nurture pro-British elements so that post-1997 Hong Kong would be ruled by British agents without the direct presence of the British. In order to stop the British from moving ahead further, in October 1985, Ji Pengfei called upon the British to alter the Hong Kong political system prior to 1997 only in ways that “converged” with the Basic Law. The need for convergence was elevated to a principle by Xu Jiatun a month later. According to Xu, Deng Xiaoping said to him that, if nothing was done in time, the British would have pushed ahead with the plan and Hong Kong “would be in chaos”.76

The British would give in. By reaching an understanding with Beijing, the British would ensure there would be no major political reform until the Basic Law was promulgated in 1990, and in return, Beijing would allow the Legislative Council formed in 1995 to straddle the transition to 1999 if the method of its formation conformed to the Basic Law. This understanding was referred to as the “through train” arrangement.77

Even though the British agreed to the principle of convergence in exchange for the through train, Xu Jiatun thought the British had played a “master stroke” by putting forth ideas of representative government because it had the effect of deepening “division and turmoil” in society. The middle class and grassroots were mobilising to take part in democratic politics. Their calls for democracy upset people in the capitalist class—whether Chinese or foreign, who were unready to participate in “the game of politics” and they also feared the “free lunch” and “high taxation” phenomena arising as democracy developed in Hong Kong. As Xu recounted, some of the capitalists and people in the upper strata of society thought they could rely on China to resist Hong Kong’s democratic trend. If the trend could not be resisted, then it was important to slow the pace down. Xu had attempted to use the Hong Kong and Macao International Investment Company to bring together most of the capitalists so that they could consider getting involved in competitive politics, but there was no common wish to cooperate and the competitiveness among them within the BLDC and BLCC over the future political system was “fierce”, as could be seen from the various proposals emanating from groups of members within those bodies.78

A former Xinhua Hong Kong deputy director, Huang Wenfang, thought Xu Jiatun was extremely conservative over the democratic process in Hong Kong. During the drafting of the Basic Law, Xu strongly opposed that idea that the number of directly elected seats in the legislature should exceed half. Xu feared that “one man, one vote” would make Beijing lose control of the situation in Hong Kong.79 As the top cadre in Hong Kong, Xu’s view on democracy had significant influence on Beijing, but whatever might have been his personal preference, he was most likely just following Deng Xiaoping’s broad instructions closely. Deng had clearly been worried that democracy would bring chaos.

On 26 September 1985, the Hong Kong Legislative Council saw its first indirect elections when twelve functional constituency seats were elected. The barrister, Martin Lee, was elected to represent the Legal Functional Constituency, launching one of Hong Kong’s most important political careers in the run-up to 1997. The Hong Kong government conducted another review in 1987 to assess whether an element of direct election should be introduced to the Legislative Council in 1988. The Green Paper published in May 1987 remains famous today for its design. It aimed to dampen earlier hopes that a number of directly elected seats would be introduced in the following year. The Hong Kong government set up a Survey Office to collect and collate public responses over a four-month period. The questions, options and sub-options put to Hong Kong people were confusing, leading to allegations that they were framed to obfuscate. The questionnaire was constructed in such a way that it was possible to say you were against direct election, but not possible to say unequivocally that you were in favour of them. The public was simply not given a clear choice for direct election in 1988.

Notably, in September 1987, the Group of 89 proposed that the future Chief Executive should be selected by an electoral college of 600 people made up mostly of business and professional circles. Their proposal also provided that, from 1992, the legislature should be expanded to 80 members with 25 members chosen by the electoral college, 25 members by functional constituencies, and 40 members by direct election.80 The Group of 19 proposed that the HKSAR Chief Executive should be nominated by the Legislative Council and elected by universal suffrage. As for election to the Legislative Council, this group proposed that a quarter of the members should be returned by an electoral college, a quarter by functional constituencies and half by direct election.81 These two groups represented the two ends of the spectrum within the BLCC.

The CCP Hong Kong mobilised left-wing organisations to express opposition to the introduction of direct election to ensure there would be many opposition voices. Organisations representing the capitalists’ interests also submitted views to oppose implementing elections too quickly. Thus, the FTU and its 77 affiliated bodies, the Chinese General Chamber of Commerce and its 80-plus affiliated bodies were among those which got their networks to respond. The FTU asserted that “eating is more important than voting”. Chinese enterprises also organised signature campaigns among their employees. It was also reported that the Bank of China arranged for its employees to watch a video, narrated by Ma Lik (who was then the vice-secretary general of the BLCC), explaining why the introduction of direct elections was a British conspiracy. Ma Lik would become a member of the Legislative Council. The Bank of China also prepared a printed pro-forma opposing letter for its employees to sign and send to the Survey Office.82 The pro-democracy camp likewise organised people to sign petitions through street campaigns.

The Survey Office released its findings in October 1987. The Survey Office did not distinguish between pre-printed forms used for submissions and individual submissions. This had the effect of over-representing those opposed to direct elections. Of 60,706 submissions against direct elections in 1988, 50,175 came from pre-printed forms and 22,722 of them were from united front organisations. Of the 35,129 submissions that favoured direct elections, only 1,313 were on pre-printed forms. Moreover, 220,000 signatures with names and identity card numbers were excluded from the table altogether. If these had been on pre-printed forms, they would have been counted and there was no logic to exclude them except to manipulate a result the government wanted.83

The Hong Kong government concluded that there was overwhelming support for the introduction of direct elections to the Legislative Council, but not in 1988. Governor David Wilson (1987–1992) recalled events thus:

it was convenient for us [the British], in terms of handling the transition with China, that we did not have . . . overwhelming pressure from people in Hong Kong to move straight away into direct elections because we knew that doing that would be very difficult for the Chinese to accept.84

There were in fact many non-government surveys conducted during that time showing there was majority support in Hong Kong for direct elections to be introduced in 1988. A poll conducted by Survey Research Hong Kong in July 1987 showed 54 percent in favour of direction election in 1988, with 16 percent opposed, 22 percent unsure and 8 percent with no opinion. Another telephone survey conducted by Market Decision Research in August found 41 percent wanted to see some element of direct election in 1988, 20 percent wanted more indirectly elected members, 15 percent wanted no change and 24 percent had no opinion.85

Before releasing the White Paper in February 1988, David Wilson visited Beijing in December 1987 to exchange views with the Chinese on political developments in Hong Kong. It was believed that he and Chinese officials reached an understanding as to the pace of the democratisation process in Hong Kong.86 When the White Paper was released afterwards, it stated that there would be 10 directly elected members to be introduced to the 56-seat Legislative Council in 1991, which the Chinese had already announced they would allow. In other words, there would be no direct election in 1988.87

Despite the slowing down of the timetable for direct election to be introduced in Hong Kong, the fact that it would happen meant the formation of political parties was inevitable. Up until 1986, Beijing was not in favour of party formation in Hong Kong. Li Hou even threatened that the CCP would participate in Hong Kong if party politics emerged.88 However, from 1987 onwards, Beijing stopped publicly opposing the formation of political parties, which signalled the CCP had formed a new policy to deal with the onslaught of elections.

In April 1988, the BLDC released the first draft of the Basic Law for a five months’ consultation. There were many criticisms of the draft.89 On the issue of election to the Chief Executive and legislature, since there was no consensus among the drafters, various options were included as possible choices, including those of the Group of 89 and Group of 19 noted above. The formula proposed by the latter was the most democratic. T. S. Lo proposed splitting the legislature to create a bicameral system with the functional constituency members sitting in a second chamber (Chapter 9).

Looking at how the BLDC functioned, it was clear that the Mainland drafters’ key concerns had to do with ensuring the Basic Law reflected the full recognition of Chinese sovereignty, and having adequate mechanisms provided so that the Central People’s Government could exercise control where necessary. For the Mainland, having sovereignty meant having control, and the levers of control must be built into the future constitution. The Hong Kong drafters had mixed and divided interests. Some were willing to go with whatever was the Mainland position, while others wanted to protect their economic interests through emphasising specific business sectors and ensuring their representation would be entrenched. The issue of the distribution of power after 1997 was thus the key issue. There was a strong belief among a significant contingent of the Hong Kong BLDC and BLCC members that prosperity and stability could only be ensured if power was retained in the hands of the economic and political elites. In the 1980s, the political elites were the top civil servants and their appointees to the Executive and Legislative Councils and to the most important government consultative bodies. A large number of these appointees were members of the economic elite, who together formed the club that supposedly ran Hong Kong so successfully. In other words, the majority of the BLDC and BLCC members believed that the post-reunification institutional framework should be based on the past distribution of power under colonial rule. The draft Basic Law provoked a substantial public response with approximately 73,000 submissions.

In November 1988, BLDC member and co-convenor of the working group on political development, Louis Cha, put forward a political model that he thought could be a compromise model. He did not try to resolve the differences embodied in the various models over the pace and direction of democratisation. Instead, he tried to find a way that he thought could sustain Hong Kong’s way of life and could also be acceptable to Beijing. He called this compromise model the Mainstream Model. Cha’s idea was for directly elected members to be returned for 27 percent of the seats for the first term in 1997 to 1999, increasing to 50 percent by the third and fourth terms (2003 to 2007 and 2007 to 2011). A referendum might be held in 2011 to decide whether the Chief Executive and the Legislative Council should be elected by universal suffrage. This was the model that gained Beijing’s backing and was approved by the BLDC. The BLDC also endorsed an amendment raised by Hong Kong businessman Cha Chi Min, who promoted that the referendum would only be held if it were approved by the Chief Executive, two-thirds majority of the legislators, and the SCNPC; and the result of the referendum would be valid only if it had the support of 30 percent of registered voters. The Mainstream Model and the amendment became known as the Cha-Cha Model.90 They generated widespread criticism in Hong Kong. The gulf of difference between Beijing’s concerns and Hong Kong’s aspirations were too wide and confidence in Hong Kong was beginning to wane.91 Unbeknown to anyone at the time, the most severe blow to confidence was yet to come in a few months.

China faced many challenges in promoting economic reforms at breakneck speed. Dissatisfaction arising from economic liberalisation that led to inflation, lay-offs at state-owned enterprises and official corruption created widespread grievances. China’s intellectuals began to call for relaxation of social and political controls, as was happening under Mikhail Gorbachev’s policy of glasnost in the Soviet Union.92 The mix of pressures in China developed into a massive eruption of discontent in 1989.

Tiananmen Square is a large open space in the centre of Beijing, just south of the Forbidden City, flanked by the Great Hall of the People on one side and the Museum of Revolutionary History on the other side. There are also the monument to the martyrs of the Revolution and the Mao Zedong Memorial Hall in the vicinity. It has been the most potent political site in the Chinese history of the twentieth century. This was where emperors used to live, where students protested during the May Fourth Movement in 1919, where the CCP announced that it assumed power in 1949, and where Mao Zedong watched as throngs of Red Guards gathered at the start of the Cultural Revolution.

The Square came alive unexpectedly in 1989 on 15 April with the death of Hu Yaobang from heart attack. He was looked upon favourably by the people for overseeing the rehabilitation of thousands of those persecuted during the Anti-Rightist campaign and the Cultural Revolution. He was seen by the people as having encouraged significant political reform, including refusing to take a tough line against a period of student protests in 1986, for which he was made to resign as CCP general secretary (1980–1987) and make a self-criticism. Hu’s time was remembered as a period of experiment and liberalism. Upon hearing his death, large numbers of people, including many students, appeared at Tiananmen Square spontaneous to commemorate the former leader. More people showed up still on the succeeding days. Their mourning turned into protests and demands for greater democracy and less corruption. The protests spread to other big cities and for the next seven weeks, the people’s expressions of grievances touched almost every corner of China, with Hong Kong and the rest of the world watching with bated breath. What will happen?

On 22 April 1989, the Chinese government held an official ceremony to commemorate Hu Yaobang. Over 100,000 students assembled in Tiananmen Square. The students demanded a dialogue with the government, and after their demand was rejected, they started to boycott classes. On 26 April, the government used an editorial in the People’s Daily to denounce the protests as a form of “turmoil” attempting to “fundamentally refute the leadership of the CCP and the socialist system”. The editorial aroused a strong reaction from the people. On the following day, more than a million people demonstrated on the streets of Beijing. A meeting between party leaders and students on 29 April went badly, after which the students decided to organise a hunger strike on 13 May. The students received enormous support from Beijing residents, people from other Mainland cities, Hong Kong, as well as from overseas. On 18 May 1989, Premier Li Peng met the student leaders in the Great Hall of the People. He refused to acknowledge the protests were patriotic acts and not turmoil. On 20 May, Li Peng announced the imposition of martial law in Beijing.93 Troops were sent and by 4 June, and the government claimed to have put down a “counter-revolutionary rebellion”.

The dramatic and heart-breaking events of 4 June 1989 affected not only the Mainland but also touched the lives of the people of Hong Kong. Shortly after the protests started in April 1989, Hong Kong people from all walks of life started all kinds of activities to express their support for the students in Beijing. There were countless gatherings, signature campaigns, petitions and collection of donations for the students. The Members of the Executive and Legislative Councils too were swept up in the moment in May 1989. They agreed on a model for political reform that provided for direct elections for half of the seats in the Legislative Council by 1997 and all the seats by 2003, and for the Chief Executive of future HKSAR to be directly elected no later than 2003. The so-called OMELCO Consensus Model received widespread backing in Hong Kong but it would be rejected by the BLDC (Chapter 9).94

On the night of 20 May 1989, thousands assembled at Victoria Park in a strong tropical storm to protest the Chinese government’s imposing martial law in Beijing. The next day over a million people marched to support the student movement. Despite the large numbers, it was a peaceful and solemn event. People from all backgrounds, including those from the left joined the march. A group of civil society activists formed the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of China. People at Xinhua Hong Kong and Mainland-funded organisations also threw themselves into the marches on their own initiative. There was even a signature drive at Xinhua. After the imposition of martial law, the pro-Beijing Wen Wei Po in Hong Kong issued an editorial featuring only the phrase in large characters—“Deep Sorrow”.95

The patriotic feelings of Hong Kong people reached a climax during the Tiananmen Square protest. Except for a small number of people who opposed the Communist Party, the overwhelming majority were patriotic. They wanted to see progress in their country. Pro-Beijing groups were under enormous pressure from their own members to support the students. I decided they could participate in the June 4–related protests under certain conditions. They should not make public speeches, call for the downfall of leaders and chant inappropriate slogans. At one point, some Chinese-funded enterprises expressed the wish to hold commemorative services on their premises for June 4 victims. I decided we should not stop their staff from doing so if they acted on their own, but senior executives should not take part.96

The crackdown on 4 June 1989 changed Hong Kong, changed how Beijing looked at Hong Kong, changed Britain’s attitude, and marked a turning point in Hong Kong people’s political consciousness.

People from all walks of life in Hong Kong were jittery about 1997. They were quick to associate the 4 June crackdown with their fate after 1997, and more and more people were keen to take part in the marches. The slogan “Today’s Beijing will be Tomorrow’s Hong Kong” expressed their frame of mind at a time when 1997 was drawing nearer.

1. 李谷城，《香港的新華社功能與角色》，see http://202.76.36.61/vol%2018/vol18Doc1_2.htm.

2. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 23.

3. 盧育儀、麥慰宗、鍾仕梅，〈統戰工作有功，錯在重資輕勞〉，《當代雜誌》，13 January 1990, p. 14.

4. Chung Sze-yuen, Hong Kong’s Journey to Reunification, pp. 39–43.

5. Ibid., pp. 63–67.

6. 鍾仕梅，〈對港方針，政出多門〉，《當代雜誌》，9 December 1989, p. 20.

7. Xu Jiatun’s Memoirs provided examples, such as disagreements over what Mainland enterprises in Hong Kong could and could not do, conduct of Sino-British relations, style in operating united front work in Hong Kong, etc. For a discussion, see Shiu-hing Sonny Lo, “The Chinese Communist Party Elite’s Conflicts over Hong Kong, 1983–1990”, China Transformation, pp. 6–8.

8. Xu Jiatun’s Memoirs recorded considerable conflicts between himself and Hong Kong and Macao Affairs Office over turf, see Chapter 8. See also Cindy Yik-Yi Chu, “Overt and Covert Functions of the Hong Kong Branch of the Xinhua News Agency, 1947–1984”, The Historian, pp. 39–40; and John P. Burns, “The Structure of Communist Party Control in Hong Kong”, Asian Survey, pp. 755–56.

9. Xu Jiatun’s interview with Ming Pao, August 2007.

10. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 120.

11. Ibid., p. 141.

12. Ibid., pp. 470–71.

13. Ibid., pp. 64–65.

14. John P. Burns, The Structure of Communist Party Control in Hong Kong, p. 754, footnote 19.

15. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, Chapter 2.

16. Ibid., p. 76.

17. Ibid., p. 55.

18. Ibid., p. 54. The Chinese military was divided into 7 military regions—Guangzhou, Nanjing, Chengdu, Jinan, Lanzhou, Beijing, and Shenyang.

19. Ibid., p. 54.

20. Ibid., p. 63.

21. Ibid., pp. 76–77.

22. Ibid., p. 223. Xu disclosed that Zhu Rongji, a future premier, had been identified as a possible transfer to Hong Kong, but the CCP Central Committee decided to make Zhu the mayor of Shanghai instead.

23. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 78.

24. The two local cadres were Wang Rudeng (王如登) and Chen Fengying (陳鳳英). See 軒轅輅，《新華社透視》，p. 52.

25. Chu Yik-yi, “Overt and Covert Functions of the Hong Kong Branch of the Xinhua News Agency, 1947–1984”, The Historian, p. 41.

26. John P. Burns showed the structure which was adapted from Deng Feng, “Xianggang xinhuashe—gongwei cai gang de waiyi”, Contemporary, No. 4, 16 December 1989, p. 19, in The Structure of Communist Party Control in Hong Kong, p. 754. The Security Department, which Xu Jiatun talked about in his Memoirs, has been included.

27. 李約 quoted Xu Jiatun saying,“我希望把中央，國務院的政策與香港的實際情況結合起，務求港人滿意，各界人士都滿意安心”，〈獨家訪問許家屯〉，《廣角鏡》，Issue 129, June 1983, p. 6.

28. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 122.

29. Chung Sze-yuen’s account of those meetings show the difficulties UMELCO members were put in vis-à-vis their loyalty, Hong Kong Journey to Reunification, pp. 95–97.

30. Ibid., pp. 96 and 139.

31. Ibid., p. 139.

32. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 97.

33. Teresa Ma, “Capitalism, China-Style”, Far Eastern Economic Review, 1 March 1982; and Cindy Yik-yi Chu, “The Origins of the Chinese Communist Alliance with the Business Elite in Hong Kong: The 1997 Question and the Basic Law Committees, 1979–1985”, Modern Chinese History Society of Hong Kong Bulletin, pp. 58–60.

34. Ambrose Y. C. King, “Administrative Absorption of Politics in Hong Kong: Emphasis in the Grass Roots Level”, in Ambrose King and Rance P. L. Lee, Social Life and Development in Hong Kong, pp. 129–30.

35. For discussions about Beijing’s perception of what made Hong Kong economically successful, see Leo F. Goodstadt, “China and the Selection of Hong Kong’s Post-Colonial Political Elite”, China Quarterly, pp. 727–28; and Wai-kwok Wong, “Can Co-optation Win over the Hong Kong People? China’s United Front Work in Hong Kong Since 1984”, Issues & Studies, pp. 116–18.

36. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, pp. 130–31.

37. Nick Seward, “The Tung Kin Gulf: Rescue Plans Call for the Stripping of OOCL’s Public Assets”, Far Eastern Economic Review, p. 98; Guy Sacerdoti, “On Separate Tracks: Two Shipping Groups Negotiate with Banks to Stay Afloat”, Far Eastern Economic Review, p. 166; and Christine Loh and Carine Lai, Reflections of Leadership, pp. 27–28.

38. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 131. Xu Jiatun said Fung King Hei contacted him when he had financial problems and Xu arranged meetings with the Bank of China and others to help. After Fung died, Xu noted China still assisted his son.

39. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, Chapter 4; and 軒轅輅，《新華社透視》，p. 96.

40. Interview with Yeung Yiu Chung (楊耀忠) dated 30 May 2002, see Wan Kwok Fai, “Beijing’s United Front Policy Toward Hong Kong”, p. 54.

41. 盧育儀 and 鍾仕梅 said that “整個新華社的眼睛不是向下望而是看著上層和工商界”，〈統戰工作有功，錯在重資輕勞〉，《當代雜誌》，13 January 1990, p. 14. Xu Jiatun said he did not neglect the old leftists, and that he reassessed the definition of “working class” in Hong Kong, Memoirs, Chapters 4 and 5.

42. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, Chapter 5.

43. Meeting Point was formed in 1983. It was the first group in Hong Kong that formally considered itself to be a political party. In 1990, it merged with the United Democrats to become the Democratic Party. Meeting Point member, Anthony Cheung, became the Secretary for Transport and Housing (2012–2017). Other new groups that focused on Hong Kong’s future included New Hong Kong Society, Hong Kong Prospect Institute, and Hong Kong Belongers’ Association.

44. Hong Kong Observers effectively became defunct around 1988. Members included Christine Loh and Anna Wu who became legislators. Leung Chun Ying was active for a short period around 1981–1982. After her time in the Legislative Council (1993–1995), Wu was appointed the chairperson of the Equal Opportunities Commission after 1997, and then as an Executive Councillor in 2009–2017. Loh became the Under Secretary for the Environment in the Leung Chun Ying’s administration (2012–2017).

45. For a record of the Hong Kong Observers Poll, see Pressure Points, pp. 196–209. For a discussion about the Hong Kong Observers, see Christine Loh, Being Here, pp. 171–85.

46. The Hong Kong government released a list of names of 101 invited guests and the newspapers also published a list of names. There appeared to have been a total of 102 invitees. Appendix II provides all the names that appeared from both lists. See also Press release, Government Information Service, 16 December 1984. There were in fact discrepancies between the government’s press release and the names from newspapers. There may have been more than 101 invitees. Appendix II shows 102 names, which included the 101 names in the press release and another name that appeared in newspapers at the time.

47. The term “status marker” was used by Leo F. Goodstadt in “China and the Selection of Hong Kong’s Post-Colonial Elite”, China Quarterly, p. 722.

48. Ching Cheong noted that the BLDC would seek and collect Hong Kong people’s views widely and that there would be quite a number of Hong Kong people in the BLDC, “廣泛地徵求和收集香港人的意見並反映大多數人的民意”，〈基本法起草委員會將包括多名港人〉，Wen Wei Po, 11 March 1985.

49. Deng Xiaoping’s speech at a meeting with Member of the BLDC in Beijing on 16 April 1987, Deng Xiaoping on ‘One Country, Two Systems’, pp. 67–78. See also Xu Jiatun’s comments on the overriding drafting principles set out by Deng Xiaoping, Memoirs, Chapter 6.

50. Ibid.

51. Steve Tsang, A Modern History of Hong Kong, p. 241.

52. Ching Cheong noted that“起草委員會的內地成員，應包括一些比較熟悉香港的人士，一些主管港澳工作的以及一些法律界人士，特別是制憲專家……香港地區人選則應具備愛祖國，愛香港，熟悉香港情況，並且在某個領域具有專業知識，同時又能採取「持平態度」的人士來出任”，〈基本法起草委員會怎樣產生？〉，Wen Wei Po, 12 April 1985.

53. 〈許家屯談成立起草委會〉，Xu Jiatun suggested“吸收香港的代表多參加，讓不同傾向的人能夠充分反映香港同胞的願望”，Wen Wei Po, 5 April 1985.

54. Ching Cheong et al defined “balance” as “所謂「持平」，就是能平衡各方意見和利益的人。持平的主張就是要能符合中英聯合聲明和將來基本法的精神，符合大多數人參與的原則。只有持平才能有穩定，有穩定才能有繁榮”，〈基本法起草委員會怎樣產生？〉, Wen Wei Po, 12 April 1985. The importance of “balance” is derived from three factors: (1) Hong Kong is a diverse society with complicated class relationships and a wide range of business sectors. To maintain such a society along with its diversity, it requires an attitude that encourages the participation of all the different parties（大家認為香港是一個多元化的社會，無論是階級關係，行業類別都是十分複雜的，因為要維持這樣一個社會的性質不變，就必須讓各方都有參與的機會，此其一）；(2) there is a common political goal of maintaining stability and prosperity in Hong Kong, and under this premise, people with various political inclinations should cooperate; “balance” is exactly to remain open to all different political inclinations（大家都有一個共同的政治目標，就是保持香港的繁榮的穩定，在這個大前提下，各種政治傾向的人都應互相合作，持平就是要能夠對各種政治傾向的兼容並蓄，此其二）；(3) along with the changes in Hong Kong as 1997 approaches, people’s political inclinations would change and at an increasing pace; “ balance” is to avoid dwelling in the past, and instead, cater to the circumstances today and in the future（隨著香港形勢的變化，人們的政治傾向也在不斷的變化中，而且距九七年越近，這種變化就越大，因此，不應去追究某人在過去歷史上曾抱有甚麼態度，更重要的是看今天和以後的態度，此其三）。

55. T. K. Ann was a member of the national CPPCC’s Standing Committee.

56. Ambrose Y. C. King coined the term, quoted in Cindy Yik-yi Chu, “The Origins of the Chinese Communist Alliance with the Business Elite in Hong Kong: The 1997 Question and the Basic Law Committees, 1979–1985”, Modern Chinese History Society of Hong Kong Bulletin, pp. 62–63.

57. Up until 1985, UMELCO stood for the Unofficial Members of the Legislative Council. At the time, the legislature only had appointed members and civil servant appointees were referred as the official members, thus UMELCO was used to distinguish between the official and unofficial members.

58. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, Chapter 6.

59. Xu noted in his Memoirs that including Martin Lee would be preferable to excluding him as it would be easier to control him within the BLDC’s confidential working structure than outside it, p. 157.

60. Staff reporters, “Xu Jiatun: The Communist Cadres Who Reached Out to All Sectors in Hong Kong”, South China Morning Post, 29 June 2016. Szeto revealed in his autobiography, Yangtze River Flows Eastward, that he had wanted to join the party in his youth. He was a co-founder of the Hok Yau Club in 1949 (a left-leaning student group) and joined the New Democracy Youth League in September 1949 (which subsequently was renamed the Communist Youth League in 1957).

61. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, Chapter 6.

62. Chung Sze-yuen, Hong Kong’s Journey to Reunification, p. 169.

63. Adapted from Ma Ngok, Political Development in Hong Kong, p. 41.

64. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, pp. 162–63.

65. Shiu-hing Sonny Lo, “The Politics of Co-optation in Hong Kong: A Study of the Basic Law Drafting Process”, Asian Journal of Public Administration, pp. 13–15.

66. Ibid., p. 10, and Steve Tsang, A Modern History of Hong Kong, p. 240.

67. Mark Roberti, The Fall of Hong Kong, pp. 176–78.

68. David Bonavia, Hong Kong 1997, p. 144.

69. Steve Tsang, The Modern History of Hong Kong, p. 115, and Robert Cottrell, The End of Hong Kong, pp. 181–82.

70. Basic Law, Annex I (I), and see Jonathan Dimbleby, The Last Governor, p. 52.

71. Robert Cottrell, The End of Hong Kong, p. 180.

72. There are other phrases that also show the difference in understanding between the British and Chinese. For example, the meaning of the right of “final adjudication” vested in the HKSAR does not mean the HKSAR has the ultimate power to interpret the Basic Law, which in fact rests with the SCNPC.

73. Hong Kong Government, Green Paper: The Future Development of Representative Government in Hong Kong, July 1984.

74. Functional constituencies and the functional electoral system are extensively discussed in Christine Loh and Civic Exchange, Functional Constituencies.

75. Hong Kong Government, White Paper: The Further Development of Representative Government in Hong Kong, November 1984.

76. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, Chapter 6, pp. 169–73. See also Shiu-hing Sonny Lo, The Politics of Democratization in Hong Kong, pp. 90–93.

77. Steve Tsang, Hong Kong, p. 126.

78. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 190.

79. 黃文放，《解讀北京思維》，pp. 98–99.

80. The Group of 89, A Proposal for the Future Structure of the Hong Kong SAR Government, September 1987.

81. Mark Roberti, The Fall of Hong Kong, p. 177.

82. 何立，〈直選民意大結算〉，《九十年代》，October 1987, p. 40.

83. Ian Scott, Political Change and the Crisis of Legitimacy in Hong Kong, pp. 294–95.

84. David Wilson, interview, 19 September 2003.

85. For a short summary of the events of that period, see Ian Scott, Political Change and the Crisis of Legitimacy in Hong Kong, pp. 284–98.

86. 胡泰然，〈白皮書跳不出北京的框框〉，《九十年代》，January 1988, p. 44.

87. Steve Tsang, Hong Kong, p. 128.

88. Emily Lau, “Where’s the Party?”, Far Eastern Economic Review, 12 June 1986, p. 16.

89. For a summary of the criticisms, see Ian Scott, Political Change and the Crisis of Legitimacy in Hong Kong, pp. 301–5.

90. Shiu-hing Sonny Lo, The Politics of Democratization in Hong Kong, p. 121.

91. Steve Tsang, Hong Kong, pp. 242–43.

92. Glasnost is associated with Mikhail Gorbachev’s liberalizing period in the history of the Soviet Union, starting from around 1985.

93. For detailed descriptions of the chronology of events, see 程翔，《天安門的反思》, and the official website of the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of China: http://www.alliance.org.hk/english/historyblood.htm.

94. OMELCO stood for the Office of the Members of the Executive and Legislative Councils.

95. 〈新華社香港分社退職員工聲明〉，《九十年代》，July 1990, p. 42.

96. Interview with Xu Jiatun, “The Go-between”, South China Morning Post, 6 July 2007.

97. Xu Jiatun, Memoirs, p. 380.

Leading Small Groups	Offices	Committees	Departments
United Front Work Taiwan Work Economic Work Investigation and Research Work Youth Work Women’s Work	General Office Policy Research	Finance Trade Air Transport	Organisation (Personnel) Foreign Affairs Taiwan Affairs Economic Security Coordination (United Front) Propaganda Culture & Education Arts & Sports Youth & Women

Sector	Sub-sectors	No. of BLCC Members
Industry & Commerce	Commerce, Industry, Tourism, Transportation	38
Finance and Real Estate	Banking, Insurance, Securities; Construction, Real Estate Development	18
Professionals	Accountants, Architects, Engineers, Lawyers & Judges, Planners, Surveyors	19
Media	Print, Radio, Television	12
Grassroots	Academics, Agriculture, Arts & Culture, City Management, Civil Servants, Community Groups, Education, Labour, Medical, Politics, Science & Technology, and Social Services	78
Religious	Leaders of six religions	6
BLDC Members	BLDC	5
Foreign Nationals		3
Others	Overseas Chinese	1
TOTAL		180

8. The Shaping of Post-Colonial Hong Kong

From 1983 to 1989