Incidents such as these shed light on a more complicated, less-covered side of the months-long protests: the deep distrust and even hatred towards mainland Chinese as a whole, while the movement has largely been viewed by the world as just a fight between democracy and authoritarianism.
As Beijing has become increasingly authoritarian, people in Hong Kong sense the threat to their freedoms. Unfortunately, resentment of the government has unjustifiably spilled over to ordinary mainland people, even to individuals for merely being Mandarin-speaking, including people from Singapore, Taiwan and North America.
Those who pay attention to the online social media platform
LIHKG, which helps the movement stay on message and coordinate activities, notice that plainly xenophobic hate speeches are all too shocking and common. On the city’s college campuses, we’ve known for some time that mainland students are sometimes referred to by the slur “
shina dogs” and asked to “go back to China”.
“Go back to …” – sounds familiar? In the United States, for example, with anti-immigrant sentiment and xenophobia on the rise over the past few years, immigrants – including those from China – and even native-born ethnic minorities have been hearing more of that from the far right.
With the global surge of
nativism, new arrivals are often a convenient scapegoat for almost anything the natives are unhappy about, from snapping up expensive goods to “stealing” jobs and opportunities.
When it comes to Hong Kong, there is an uncomfortable parallel. Some locals feel that the influx of investment and people from the north have overwhelmed them. The perceived “crazy rich” newcomers are blamed for growing living costs, especially
sky-high housing prices.
Well-educated professionals such as
Charles Li, chief executive of Hong Kong Exchanges and Clearing Limited, and
Zhang Xiang, president of the University of Hong Kong, are on the receiving end of suspicion and hostility because of their mainland (therefore, assumed Communist Party-linked) background. Grass-roots tourists and immigrants have been called “
locusts” and “savages” and accused of putting the city under threat.
“Reclaim Hong Kong” has become one of the rallying slogans. “Hong Kong is not China” has been heard from the
very beginning of the movement. Demonstrators have adopted the images of Pepe the Frog, widely used by the alternative right, as an important element in their protest literature.
Waving the British or American flag is not uncommon in the streets, but people waving the Chinese flag get beaten up. Stores, restaurants and bank branches deemed China-linked or pro-China are
smashed, burned and looted; even their customers get bullied.
Hong Kong academic Brian Fong coined an interesting term, “one country, two nationalisms”,
to describe the phenomenon, in an allusion to the framework of “one country, two systems” to ensure Hong Kong’s autonomy. Although Hong Kong is not a nation, the city-state-like system and the unique identity of being “Hongkongers” have made a growing number of the locals, especially youngsters, take on the characteristics of what is typically called nationalism.
On the mainland, many have embraced a rising
ultranationalism since 2012, when China became more aggressive and assertive on the international stage. At the same time in Hong Kong, there has been a growing superiority complex towards mainlanders, who were seen as impoverished, isolated and ill-informed.
As a former British colony, Hong Kong retains some form of colonial nostalgia even though most protesters grew up after 1997. The
display of the colonial-era flag shows their closer emotional ties to Westerners than to their countrymen in the north.
As
Post columnist Alex Lo
pointed out, there are many videos showing radical protesters immediately calming down, becoming reasonable or even backing away when Westerners intervened amid their actions of vandalism and violence, be it smashing up the MTR station, blocking road traffic, rallying inside the airport or, as in a new clip, arguing with an expatriate woman who was tearing down Lennon Wall posters.
In these cases, the otherwise ferocious mob showed, as Lo put it, amazing “awe, respect or deference”.
In Professor Fong’s words, “instead of successfully assimilating Hongkongese into one Chinese nation, Beijing’s incorporation strategies are leading to a rise of peripheral nationalism in the city-state and waves of countermobilisation”. Instead of going after the powerful Chinese leadership for their grievances, some Hong Kong protesters chose to violently vent their frustrations on ordinary mainlanders, and the movement as a whole has not disavowed those behaviours – which are in fact borderline hate crimes.
Sadly, blind hatred and tribalism are polarising and tearing apart the people living on the two sides of the Shenzhen river, and even communities in Hong Kong that disagree with each other on whether they view the Chinese identity as complementary or horrifying.
Similar to the complex issues involving race relations in the US, these rifts in Hong Kong, I fear, cannot be healed any time soon. Ethnocentrism on both sides is likely to continue, although, actually, there is no ethnic division in the traditional sense between most Hongkongers and mainlanders.
Audrey Jiajia Li is a nonfiction writer and broadcast journalist