Inside the Hong Kong museum dedicated to the Tiananmen Square massacre

(Photo: Hannah Leung)

(Photo: Hannah Leung)

The world’s first museum dedicated to the 1989 pro-democracy protests in Beijing’s Tiananmen Square opened in Hong Kong last Saturday to mark the 25 year anniversary. Named the June 4 Memorial Museum, it hopes to educate the millions of mainland tourists who visit Hong Kong each year.

The violent suppression of student protests in Tiananmen Square remains a taboo topic in mainland China, banned from official discourse. Beijing considers the weeks of peaceful protest by students and workers a “counter-revolutionary” revolt and defends its decision to send in the army. To this day no official numbers of the death toll have been released and many young Chinese in particular are unaware of its occurrence.

Index visited the museum a few days after its launch. Located in the busy district of Tsim Sha Tsui, the bustling side streets of Hong Kong’s main Korean centre, the museum sits on the fifth floor of a commercial building. Inconspicuously sandwiched in the throngs of bars and Korean fried chicken joints, discretion is key. It’s easy to walk past the museum if you don’t know what you are looking for and signs of its existence are only given at the floor directory located by the elevator.

A curator at the museum tells Index that since its opening the museum has received around 300 visitors per day, with an even split between mainlanders and Hong Kong residents. At the time of our visit, there were mostly Hong Kong residents in attendance, with a sprinkling of mainland visitors. It’s also packed. Despite being a normal weekday and an hour before closing time, a queue weaves out the door. The sense of eagerness to discover something is palpable amongst the patrons.

The space is modest – 800 square feet in total – with both people and information meticulously squeezed in. School children browse through books and pamphlets found on a bookshelf. Some pose for pictures with a Goddess of Democracy statue located by the entrance. The statue is a replica of one created by the protesters in the days before the crackdown.

Copies of newspaper clippings, photos, videos and an interactive feature on the configuration of the protestors at Tiananmen Square, which went on for a month, are all on display. The centrepiece is a video of the Tiananmen Mothers, a group of activists personally affected by the protests, some of whom lost children or relatives in the crackdown. Testimonies given in the clips go through the agony of losing a university-aged child, and the subsequent upset of being forced to lie about the way their children died. They have been forbidden by the government, then and now, to reveal the truth.

One young woman, a tourist from mainland China, is visibly in tears as she watches the documentary. Others are less moved and some attendees have criticised the museum for not being sombre enough. A couple, also from the mainland, fiddle with the interactive feature found in the centre of the museum before the man, seemingly bored, says he wants to leave.

That visitors are here however, is a feat in and of itself. While free speech is protected in Hong Kong in theory under the One Country Two Systems agreement, closer ties to the Chinese mainland in recent years have led to incursions on free speech, as Index recently reported. In the weeks leading up to the museum’s unveiling many were sceptical about whether it would open at all. Occupants of the same building called for its closure, citing safety concerns. The museum’s backers believe Communist Party officials were behind these efforts. In another incident, Yang Jianli, a US-based activist who participated in the protests in 1989, was refused entry to Hong Kong to attend the opening ceremony. The launch was greeted by more protests from pro-China demonstrators.

Over in a small area by the exit, memorabilia is sold. USB memory drives are also available upon enquiry containing information and images related to the killings. Museum founders hope visitors will smuggle these over the border into mainland China, and in so doing force the Communist government to admit its crimes. They might be an overly optimistic aim, but at least the June 4 museum is confronting China’s recent past in an honest, open way.

This article was published on May 7, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org

“Insidious” self-censorship rife in Hong Kong

ming-pao

Hong Kong journalists are anxious at present – with good reason. On the morning of 26 February Kevin Lau, former chief editor of Hong Kong daily newspaper Ming Pao, was attacked as he got out of his car. Suffering stab wounds to his back and legs, Lau was rushed to hospital where he underwent emergency surgery. 

Nine men have since been arrested over the attack, with police saying some are linked to organised crime. But many media workers believe differently, namely that the stabbing was provoked by Lau’s record of pushing journalistic boundaries at Ming Pao, and that it’s a message for local journalists to beware criticising Beijing.

Once a British colony, Hong Kong reverted to Chinese rule in 1997. Under the policy of “One Country, Two Systems”, Hong Kong was granted a degree of autonomy, with press freedom protected under the Basic Law.

The law isn’t a total farce. To this day, the city’s newsstands display a varied, vibrant collection of papers. In Reporters Without Borders’ World Press Freedom Index 2013 Hong Kong was ranked 58 globally, just one slot below Italy and far above China at 173.

However, beneath the surface a different story emerges. Over the past year, half a dozen violent attacks on people in media who are critical of the Hong Kong and Chinese governments have been reported, as have abrupt dismissals and resignations of several outspoken journalists.

Meanwhile, self-censorship is growing.

“It’s a creeping, insidious type of thing. If you want to keep your job, you tow the line. I work with guys who are pro press freedom, but they are still censoring constantly,” said a journalist who only agreed to talk on condition of anonymity. The man, who is a reporter at a prominent local newspaper and has been living in Hong Kong for three decades, explained how self-censorship started to emerge in the mid-90s and has become rife in recent years.

Then there are the “gatekeepers”, as he refers to them – journalists who have been educated in the Chinese school of journalism (“never question authority”) and are encouraged to run stories according to a Beijing agenda. They now get their information from Chinese media sources such as Xinhua and China Daily, as opposed to the past practice of using Reuters, AP and other international news wires.

Why has this situation emerged? Money’s a big factor. Media owners in Hong Kong used to be either local business tycoons or people in media themselves. Now they’re predominantly international businessmen with links to China, who are reliant on Chinese currency to stay afloat. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, over 50% of Hong Kong’s media owners are closely connected to the Chinese government. Other media owners, such as the Malaysian billionaire Robert Kuok from the South China Morning Post and Malaysian Tiong Hiew-king of Ming Pao, have strong commercial interests in China.

One exception to the rule is Next Media, a profitable company that owns Apple Daily, one of Hong Kong’s most widely read newspapers – and the most openly critical of China. Next Media has survived the onslaught. But certain advertisers have withdrawn sponsorship, acting as a deterrent for smaller, less profitable papers.

Gregory Lee, an academic and writer who lived in Hong Kong on both sides of the handover, says the academic press is under attack too. The days of people publishing in Hong Kong because they couldn’t in China have ended. Lee knows of one academic who criticised China’s former leader Hu Jintao and had his entire book pulled.

Lee currently teaches Chinese studies at the University of Lyon, France. Even thousands of miles from Beijing, the Communist government’s touch is still felt.

“I’ve got Hong Kong students here who are desperate about the encroachment of mainland China on Hong Kong culture. What’s interesting is that these students were very young when the handover happened, but they still see their identity as Hong Kong.”

One thing’s for sure, Hong Kong residents will not be easily silenced. In the wake of Lau’s attack, thousands took to the streets to voice support for press freedom and to denounce the violence, and this protest was just a warm-up. Occupy Central, which is set to take place in July, should see plenty more out in public demanding rights to freedom of expression.

“Hong Kong has a golden opportunity to be a watchdog for what’s happening in the mainland, due to its proximity and links to China, and yet the press are failing in their duties,” says prominent blogger and activist Tom Grundy, who plans to attend Occupy Central. Grundy believes the protest will be “a defining moment for Hong Kong autonomy” as the government is presented with different ways to respond.

Attending Occupy Central is not just about protecting Hong Kong’s present – it’s about the future too.

“There’s a concern that when 2047 comes, Hong Kong will be absorbed by the mainland,” Grundy says of the “One Country, Two systems” agreement that will expire then.

Back in the hospital, Lau’s recovery is underway. The nerves in his legs are healing and doctors are confident he will walk again. The future of Hong Kong’s free press, on the other hand, remains in the balance.

This article was posted on 19 March 2014 at indexoncensorship.org

State of press freedom in China and Hong Kong “reminiscent of the Mao era”

(Photo illustration: Shutterstock)

(Photo illustration: Shutterstock)

Measures implemented by Chinese authorities in 2013 are “reminiscent of the Mao era four decades ago,” the International Federation of Journalists (IFJ) said in a statement accompanying the latest edition of their annual China Press Freedom report.

The press freedom organisation argues that “Chinese authorities continued to tighten their grip on information and media outlets” in 2013.

Among other things, the report — which four journalists from the region contributed to — states that new leader Xi Jiping “set out to strengthen the use of the media as a propaganda tool”. Journalists and bloggers were also forced to make “televised confessions” and “tens of thousands of online messages were deleted, and many websites were shut down”.

The situation for foreign media was also poor, with foreign journalists receiving death threats, and international websites being blocked.

The report also covered Hong Kong and Macau. Journalists in Hong Kong received “verbal and physical abuse” and there were attacks on, and threats to, media owner and outlets. Macau is experiencing “a growing trend to self-censorship”.

The IFJ made a number of recommendations, including calling on the Chinese government to release jailed journalists, stop “arbitrary and unexplained employment terminations” and “order and end to state security misusing the law to intimidate and silence journalists.”

“Press freedom is a human right and the media must be able to perform their professional duties without fear and intimidation,” the group said.

Conspiracy theories flourish after China cancels opera

This Thursday Hong Kong will host the world premiere of Dr. Sun Yat-sen after China abruptly cancelled the opera’s original world premiere at Beijing’s National Center for the Performing Arts.

The opera, commissioned by Opera Hong Kong and the Hong Kong government, was to have had its world premiere on 30 September to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Chinese revolution.

Sun is a widely revered Chinese revolutionary who helped bring down the Qing dynasty in 1911.

The official explanation for calling off the opera was “logistical reasons”, but media have been wildly speculating as to a range of other possible causes.

The New York Times cited an unnamed agent who works for the composer’s management company as saying that a Chinese government official simply didn’t like the music.

“I guess because maybe it’s not romantic enough, something like that,” the agent said.

The Financial Times suggests that perhaps the words were too politically sensitive. It quotes Sun’s lines in the first scene: “The Qing court is furious, They are turning our country into a prison! But this cage cannot silence oppositional voices … now there are debates with people urging change.” In the wake of the Arab Spring, the government has become ultra-sensitive over protests occurring in China, it muses.

Hong Kong newspaper the South China Morning Post (subscription only) says mainland sources deny it has anything to do with politics or the opera’s subject matter.

“Things like this happen all the time on the mainland,” it quotes a mainland performing arts musician as saying. “Just a [negative] remark from a leader would do it.”

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