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Reflections on recent events, plus the occasional fact
free rant unfiltered by rational argument. |
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29/10/2020 2 Comments The State of Play. "What is striking is that as an attempt to flee, this was a risible, ill-conceived and inept plan..." On Tuesday this week, members a Hong Kong independence group, Studentlocalism, sought asylum in the US Consulate. Details are sketchy. Media reports suggest security guards allowed them into the compound, yet shortly afterwards they left. The Americans aren't saying what happened, although it appears that this bid for asylum faced rejection.
Early that day the groups leader, Tony Chung, who is on bail, was arrested opposite the consulate, having arrived too early to gain entry. What is striking is that as an attempt to flee, this was a risible, ill-conceived and inept plan—a bit like taking a boat to Taiwan through Chinese waters. For starters, under US asylum laws, claimants must be physically in the US to be considered. Even a brief search of the internet could have established that fact. Moreover, these people do not qualify for refugee status because they are not outside their country of nationality. On top of that, these events expose the limit of American support for activists here. It's not gone unnoticed that the US dodged a major diplomatic incident, that could have added a catastrophic strain to its China relations and led to the closure of the consulate. Clearly, young Tony and his crew aren't worth the bother. With violence and protests curtailed by a combination of the national security law and Covid-19, the arena of action has shifted. Commentators in July, with a fondness for concision over messy realism, declared 'game-over' as the NSL took effect. In my reading of events, the introduction of the NSL brought a welcome respite from violence, while the arena of struggle shifted. The game is still on. The 2014 'Occupy Central' was just the first round or prelude in this series of events. That protest faded as the government mostly sat it out, waiting for enthusiasm to wane. Then the violence of Chinese New Year 2016 — the so-called 'Fish-Ball' riot — indicated an unwelcome evolution was underway. By 2019, with the extradition bill as the catalyst, the militants proved themselves willing to firebomb police stations and kill to achieve their aims. Along with that, a distinct independence movement emerged that challenged Chinese sovereignty. That poked a raw nerve in Beijing. By mid-2020, with protests still simmering, the NSL brought an abrupt halt to the on-street violence. At the same time, the new law cut off overseas funding, while criminalising actions that seek independence. Many prominent activists fled overseas, including several wanted for rioting and other serious offences. All protest movements must grapple with strategic goals, trade-offs, dilemmas and a multitude of choices. Activists are also the audience to each other's actions. For example, having witnessed the arrest in Chinese waters of fleeing bail-jumpers heading to Taiwan, it's doubtful anyone else will again attempt that route. However, structurally this is not just a struggle between the government and the activists. Such a view is an over-simplification of a complex web of intersecting interests. For starters, the government is far from a unified body with one set of interests. The best illustration is our independent judiciary, which operates separately and has come into conflict with the administration by finding against it. Also, you have significant sub-players: including the Police, a multitude of government departments, political parties and the wider passive public. Each has a different stake in events. Then you have the activists who exhibit even greater divisions. For that reason, they strive relentlessly to portray themselves as unified when beset by fault lines and disputes. Scratching the surface, you'll soon expose the fiction of consensus that seeks to sustain collective action. Trumpeting the 'leaderless' model of protest fails to recognise that without leadership, fragmentation is almost always inevitable — there is no centre to hold the movement together. Inevitably, leaderless movements face questions about their legitimacy: who can the government negotiate with?; what is the constituency of the protest movement? Simply uttering five demands doesn't cut the mustard. Joshua Wong is a classic illustration. He appointed himself as a spokesperson for the movement, garnering international coverage with his 'star' recognition. But during the height of the protests, he faced criticism and a hostile reception for grand-standing that caused him to retreat. The more militants types saw him as unwilling to join the 'braves' in fighting the Police. In their eyes, he is inauthentic, plus lacks courage. So while he is the darling of the US politicians, he's an increasingly marginal figure locally. Opposition politicians, meanwhile, in maintaining outward signs of solidarity with the activists, relegated themselves from the sphere of influence. These days their one-trick obstructionist approach in LegCo is mostly a side-show. Plus, when faced with robust debate from officials, they've taken cover. Witness how they've run away from exchanges with the Commissioner of Police in District Council meetings. In effect, they're suppressing debate and free speech because it exposes their inherent weaknesses. These days the arena of struggle has shifted to the law and the judicial system. Protesters are seeking to keep their space for action open by turning court cases into something useful for the cause. Trials are now campaign tools. In this game, activist lawyers are creating new domains for struggle by challenging court decisions, seeking interpretations of the law and with stalling actions. Philip Dykes, the head of Bar Association, jumped in on the first NSL case, seeking to question the validity of the law. That effort failed. Which proves a point; while new arenas of struggle provide new opportunities, they expose players to unknowns. Court decisions can set unwelcome precedents or even see activists locked away for lengthy periods, blunting the ardour of others in the movement. After all, many activists don't have the stamina to withstand long jail terms. On the bigger stage, animated by a sense of civilisational superiority, the West decided it must contain China. They see Hong Kong as a useful lever in that process, albeit local officials have made it clear that international sanctions won't deflect them from maintaining stability here. In effect, the West has pushed Hong Kong deeper into the arms of Beijing across a whole domain of issues including providing political top-cover, economic support and even the provision of public order equipment. With sanctions preventing kit reaching the Hong Kong Police, a process of innovation kicked off. This process led to new tactics with pioneering 'less than lethal' weapons and more effective, leaner, anti-riot teams. Looking around the world, it's dawning on some that: "The American 'beacon on the hill' is growing dim" (Peter Hartcher, The Sydney Morning Herald). Also, there is a recognition that the most vocal critic of China — Secretary of State Mike Pompeo — is a biblical literalist who frames the struggle as 'God's battle until the rapture'. This picture is proving deeply unsettling with more rational folks. The penny has dropped with some nations that we've been here before because the push against China comes borne of a moral imperative with religious undertones. It's the same moral imperative that led to previous misadventures. To paraphrase Micheal Pembroke, former Australian Supreme Court Judge, cited in the SCMP: "prudent countries should keep their distance from Washington." It's worth pointing out that Hong Kong's NSL is less strident than Australia's law. Pembroke observes that the tectonic plates of international standing are shifting. Whereas in 1945, America was the world's largest creditor nation, that crown has now passed to China. And the largest debtor nation you ask? Yep, America. Whoever wins next week's US election will face that reality.
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21/10/2020 2 Comments The Truth, You Can't Handle The Truth! “All warfare is based on deception” Sun Tze NATO defines PSYOPS as: ‘Planned psychological activities using methods of communications and other means directed to approved audiences in order top influence perceptions, attitudes and behaviour, affecting the achievement of political and military objectives’. I don't know how much of a shock this will cause you — perhaps none, but foreign powers now admit playing a role in Hong Kong's troubles last year. Not everyone accepts that. At the height of the rioting here, a friend quipped "All this talk of foreign involvement is nonsense." I was less sure.
To me, the relentless, sophisticated and focused social media campaign waged, in particular, against the Police had the hallmarks of Psyops. We've seen nothing similar in modern times except during the Arab Spring that kicked off in 2010. Then western governments and media made the false assumption that all you needed to do was get elections up and running, and hey presto, you'd have parts of the Middle East full of liberal-minded democrats. It didn't happen. Instead, the USA became alarmed at the political forces unleashed. President Obama soon adopted a policy of ambivalence; he offered words of comfort and support but little direct help. Last weekend my friend had the good grace to admit his mistake in comprehending events here. What caused his 'road to Damascus' moment? Well, first up he credited the uncloaking of Kong Tsung-gan as American Brian Kern. Local commentator Nury Vittachi twigged that Kong wasn't who he claimed to be. Then a detailed investigation by The Grayzone filled in the gaps. For some time, Kern portrayed himself online as a prominent Chinese pro-democracy activist. In the process, he earned extensive coverage including praise from Chris Patten and coverage in western media outlets. The Hong Kong Free Press gave him regular coverage. Then, when exposed as a white man pretending to be Chinese, Kern did a runner. Some people think Kern is an intelligence agency asset. If he so, then he was hardly operating under deep cover. As a former staffer for Amnesty International, with a job at the Chinese International School, he was a visible presence at the protests. Anyway, these days having an asset on the ground is not necessary. Social media allows influence-peddling from afar. Next, my friend's ears pricked up as news emerged that Trump cut-off support to Hong Kong activists. In effect, the US exposed itself. Through the Agency for Global Media, the US provided funds to enable Hong Kong activists to hide their identities online. Trump stopped that funding. Time Magazine revealed the connection. Later, members of the House Foreign Affairs Committee of Congress owned up to the US's involvement. Plus, we've known for some time that the National Endowment for Democracy, poured funds into Hong Kong's opposition groups. Check out the NED's antecedents. None of this should surprise anyone who is a student of international affairs. Thomas Rid's book 'Active Measures' details the mind-bending campaigns of disinformation during the Cold War era. In 1951, the CIA sent shopkeepers in East Germany fake letters from the government in East Berlin. These letters instructed them to drop their prices at once. This action led to a surge of buying and then shortages. Psyops has a long history. Sun Tze highlighted the importance of information deception 2000 years ago. Down the ages, most effective military strategies employed a Psyops element. Ashurbanipal, the king of Assyria from 668 to 627 BC, gifted his neighbouring states the flesh of his victims. They got the message — don't mess with Ashurbanipal. In 1462, Vlad III adopted psychological warfare against Sultan Mehmet II's invading army. Vlad faced a force much more massive than his own. As the Sultan's army advanced, festering corpses greet them on spikes. Soon the name 'Vlad the Impaler' spread far and wide, discouraging further attacks. Vlad's enemies recorded and spread the word of his deeds, and at each telling, the narrator embellished the story. These days Psyops is more subtle. The process harnesses culture, symbols, perceptions and emotions to steer the behaviour of people under stress to meet desired outcomes. These outcomes can be political, military or even criminal. Terrorist activity and insurgencies have a high Psyops component. Plus, and this is critical, the Internet provides new cheap Psyops options. These days every kid with a computer, photoshop or film editing software is a potential Psyops operative. I invite you to go down this rabbit hole to see the workings of British disinformation and Psyops. Until the 1970s, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office ran a unit with the sole job of spreading rumours. The Information Research Department sent out over 9,000 'un-avowable pieces of information' aimed at undermining other nations. All governments play these games. In the 1960s the Soviet Union leaked to European peace activists 'evidence' of American plans for a pre-emptive nuclear strike. These shoddy fake documents had many errors. Peace activists commented it didn't matter that the leak was a forgery as 'we can guess there is a document almost exactly like it'. They wanted to believe, which unlocks a truth about our hidden attitudes. Walter Lippman (1889–1974), an American political writer, identified this phenomenon decades ago. He saw that people create a stereotypical world model to ease their comprehension of events. He surmised that as societies grow more complex, people must build these models in order not to become overwhelmed. To achieve this, they seek information that affirms existing opinions. Lippman recognised this 'echo chamber' effect well before the Internet threw explosives on the fire. Last year's events in Hong Kong brought this all into sharp focus. People wanted to believe falsehoods — turning palpable idiocies into 'fact'. Bear with me, as I seek to explore this exploitable human condition. We begin in the hard-wired primitive part of the brain — the amygdala region. This almond-shaped blob of grey matter regulates how we react to fear and anxiety. As part of the limbic system, it is not a thinking structure. The amygdala is more akin to a trip-wire that fires off automatically to produce a reaction that can protect us. We see a snake, the amygdala says 'danger', and then in an instant, we jump away. In evolutionary terms the amygdala served us well, helping us to get through the day on the dangerous African savanna. Unfortunately, it's not so helpful these days because the real physical dangers aren't there. Yet, the system is still ready and primed to fire a response. When exposed to death, disorder and destruction by the 24-hour news cycle or on social media, this jolts us into primitive-mind land. Our anxiety and fear levels rise. With your primitive-mind riled-up, you come primed for action. The Netflix docudrama 'The Social Dilemma' dramatised this mechanism. It portrays a young man undergoing radicalisation as social media algorithms augment his anger. Few would dispute that the West saw events in Hong Kong as an opportunity to bring pressure on Beijing. As such, Hong Kong played a role in the broader geopolitical tension of the era, but controlling the narrative would be essential. Thus enters Psyops on steroids, leveraging social media to create a formidable platform that's ready to broadcast any message. Fire up the amygdala, stoke some fear. Seed your message. Then repeat, repeat and repeat across many platforms. "I heard it on Twitter, and my friend says she saw it on Facebook. It must be true!" Nobody bothers to run down the source, so the story takes hold and is then picked up as 'fact' by the mainstream media. In the past, at this stage, you'd expect some verification by professional journalists. Not these days, with activist reporters controlling newsrooms. The mainstream media now feeds the frenzy with misleading headlines designed to get attention. They act as facilitators. That's how tales of 'ghost trains' and 'dead bodies' at Prince Edward still have traction with the gullible and weak-minded. It's even possible to deceive seasoned former journalists; Claudia Mo, turned up at Prince Edward station to lay flowers for people who never died. But other folks will respond in different ways. Some will post critical comments on social media or join marches, and a few will take up bomb-making. Whether a foreign power directed specific Psyops and spread misinformation in Hong Kong during 2019 is a moot point. This explanation is attractive because it explains the sophistication of the 'leaderless' movement. Yet this hypothesis negates the canniness of young people to mount such an enterprise. Plus, history has shown that Psyops efforts, even when covert, don't remain covert for long. With time, we may know more. What is certain is that activists, some schooled overseas and online, proved adept at shaping the story to their ends. Using Internet tools, they controlled the narrative for a while because the government's old-fashioned methods of communication proved no match. Officials needed to learn that press conferences and written press releases have marginal utility in the cyber age. Carrie Lam's administration was driving a clunky old bus, while her opponents speed pass in an autonomous drive sports car. For example, within minutes of people fighting in Yuen Long on the evening of July 21, edited clips emerged. Then in less than two hours, professional time-stamped photographs with commentary appeared. In an instant, these circulated through chat groups with the assertion that the Police conspired in the attacks. Even without reliable evidence, these claims become the dominant narrative. In no time, the international media — without verifying — repeat the story. Rehashed reports of alleged connivance between the Police and gangs add weight to the flimsy 'facts'; innuendo buffed up with a facade of truth for the uninformed. Only in the latter part of 2019 did the Hong Kong authorities start to wake from their plodding analogue approach. They'd fallen into the trap of believing the available truths are the dominant narrative because that's what they heard in their circle. I doubt Carrie Lam was reading Twitter or trawling through Reddit to see the distortions fed to the world. Gradually the government mounted a 'digital' response that penetrated the social media domain with fancy artwork with manga-like images. Plus, several videos appeared that purport to set the record straight. Someone has adopted the methods of Psyops to fight back. In modern times, the challenge we all face is discerning the truth in the blizzard of news, comment and opinion thrown at us. With politicians spinning half-truths or telling outright lies, as activists and governments create narratives, it's no wonder people get misled. Meanwhile, the self-appointed arbiters of the truth — the media — are busy filtering or twisting events to match their agenda. Here's a taste of their activities — a New York Times journalist fabricating a tale of joining ISIS. Whether state-controlled or not, the consequences are profound because the 'well of truth' is now poisoned. Ironically we can look to a former CIA agent to glean tips for spotting fake stories. In summary:-
These days the Hong Kong government and the Police have clawed back some ground. After all, the Hong Kong Police proved restrained compared to their US counterparts when facing rioters. In months of relentless violence, not a single person died at the hands of the Hong Kong Police, while the rioters did kill. That's a fact. 7/10/2020 0 Comments Rock & A Hard Place "The repair cost for the trashed PolyU campus is HK$700 million" Hong Kong parents are in a bind. The chatter is they want to avoid sending their kids to the over-politicised local campuses, but opting to ship them overseas has other hazards. The shambolic handling of Covid-19 in the USA and the UK, the two favoured locations for higher education, make this a high-risk option.
That, coupled with the rising anti-Chinese sentiment. Do you want the kids facing Covid-19 in a place that's floundering and with the threat of racial aggression? Tough call. Are things that bad on local campuses? Speaking to a group of students, I'm told the radical elements are in the soft degrees — the social sciences, and 'grievance studies'. No surprise there. The suggestion is that students tackling hard science subjects are less prone to political activism. Maybe, having less free time is a factor. After all, getting a place on courses for medicine, chemistry, maths, and physics remains challenging, as it should be. Also, it's argued that the focus needed for these courses tends to produce students with a realistic outlook. What is certain is that last year's troubles lost Hong Kong's universities, both friends and influence. In government circles, it's deemed that academics are on the 'wrong side' of the struggle. It hasn't gone unnoticed that deans lost control of their campuses, which became bases for the rioters. At least one dean did a disappearing act in an abrogation of his duties. The images of rioters training on the PolyU and ChineseU campuses sent a chill through society. When the Police took back PolyU, they discovered over 4000 petrol bombs and other weapons. Granted, some of those present may not have been students, yet the terrible optics did the damage. As a consequence, as the new term begins, stories abound that potential students are declining offers. Depending on who you believe, this is because of the NSL or parents opting to keep their kids away. How the NSL would impact a course choice is beyond me. If anything, the NSL has provided a welcome circuit-breaker to calm the situation. Meanwhile, universities need to tackle several significant challenges. Covid-19 is pushing learning online, with demands for fee reductions as aggrieved students claim they are not getting the full college experience. Then there is the matter of paying for the damage done to campuses by the rioters. The repair cost for the trashed PolyU campus is HK$700 million. ChineseU got off lighter at HK$70 million. In the end, I suspect the taxpayer will cover the cost, one way or another. What is surprising is no one is holding the deans to account for their manifest failures. We all saw that as trouble developed on campuses, they stood-by or gave tacit support. Few intervened to assert any control. Of course, the opposition politicians sought to normalise the smashing of campuses as laudable political protest. In their world, all the blame rests on the government and the Police. Along the way they've rewritten history and spun falsehoods, to portray rioters as brave warriors. But that's another story. As Hong Kong re-structured in the 1990s for the 'knowledge economy,' our civic leaders saw 'higher education' for the masses as the way forward. In the UK, Tony Blair trumpeted the same message with his mantra of 'education, education, education'. Yet, as is now recognised, going to university was over-sold for some because it produced unrealistic expectations. Those fancy jobs with premium pay and rapid career advancement didn't fall into laps. Then, again, that's not unique to Hong Kong. As degrees became ubiquitous, a cycle of qualification inflation took hold. Many degrees in the 'soft subjects' are proving worthless. I have to ask, did students expect a degree in 'film studies' and 'the liberal arts' would land them a top job? Well, yes they did because we told them it would. The logical endpoint is over-qualified, resentful people in retail, call-centres and crappy management roles. Which begs the question, would these kids be better off learning a trade? Yes. Much better off than attending bloated second-rate universities. Two years ago, I interviewed hundreds of Hong Kong graduates for management roles in the aviation sector. A number had a high opinion of themselves, with a sense of entitlement on show. They equally displayed a poor comprehension of the commitment needed in the modern workplace. With blunt honesty, some revealed themselves unwilling to consider shift work. Meanwhile, business friends tell me that Mainland graduates show a 'hunger' to get on. Thus, the thesis goes the Mainlanders displace locals graduates in the demanding roles that lead to senior positions. I have no data to support this assertion, but, as the saying goes, perception is reality. One must wonder how much this contributed to the violence of last year, as resentment built amongst local graduates. Coupled to this is a hard truth. Hong Kong is a service centre for China. Our 'parasite economy' thrives because the Mainland is structurally different. Should China ever become an open economy in the Western sense, then Hong Kong's importance wanes. Graduates, who are willing to acknowledge this situation, and seize the opportunity, will in all likelihood prosper. Those who oppose and fight the system curtail their career options. Employers are mindful of this reality. Before Covid-19 cut cross-boundary travel, prospective hires could face a second interview in Shenzhen. This simple step tested the willingness of graduates to cross to the Mainland and engage on that ground. No doubt, employers with Mainland interests are wary of employing anyone who played a role in the protests for fear of a backlash. One student told me a friend spent hours wiping his social media of 'protest-related' material before an interview with a bank. He then faced questions about the gaps. The tale sounded apocryphal. Yet, that the young man took the effort to tell me the story revealed his worries. The absence of a social media footprint can be as suspicious as any content. Also, don't forget that background checks have never been more straightforward thanks to Facebook, Twitter and the like. These platforms and online activism will continue to haunt a generation that put its militant rantings out there. I feel lucky that my cohort had the benefit of fading memories as we explored the boundaries and pushed against their limits. Time has eroded the evidence, something the internet doesn't do. Kids these days would do well to remember Bob Dylan's sage words "And don't speak too soon. For the wheel's still in spin. And there's no tellin' who that it's namin." 2/10/2020 1 Comment Have some common decency! "Mrs Choi would need to work over 35 years to take home what Carrie Lam makes in a year." Mrs Choi works a 12-hour shift, six-days a week, cleaning corridors, windows, door handles and ledges. With the onset of Covid-19 this year, her workload doubled. Enhanced precautions, mandated by her employer, required Mrs Choi to clean designated areas every 30 minutes. She now has only 20 minutes for lunch and no other breaks.
This middle-aged lady is part of the small army, the unrecognised heroes, who've helped keep us safe. Their relentless attention to hygiene in communal areas, on the streets and in public toilets is exemplary. And yet, Mrs Choi is on the minimum wage of HK$37.5 per hour and unlikely to see any increase soon. Indeed, that's the case if the Federation of Hong Kong Industries has its way. Once again they are summoning up apocalyptic tales of collapsing businesses if wages rise by one cent We've heard the same from them when the government introduced a minimum wage in 2010. Listening to their howls, you'd think life as we know it was about to end. It didn't happen. They adapted, and businesses prospered, as things soon settled down. Yes, there are pros and cons to the minimum wage debate; there is also fairness. Mrs Choi and her cohort are amongst the poorest in this affluent city. Despite a lifetime of hard work, they're unable to save as their salaries don't cover the rising cost of living. By comparison, the hourly UK rate is HK$64- and in New York, it's HK$116.2-. Granted, other factors are at play overseas, yet by any measure, Hong Kong's rate is low. Meanwhile, the government has thrown billions of dollars into industries that are not suffering the impacts of Covid-19. The supermarkets that have enjoyed a surge in business, as people dined at home, is the most egregious example. In the latest round of government aid, HK$24- billion is on offer, but not a penny going directly to those on the lowest wage. Instead, businesses will pocket the money, and we have no way of knowing how it's spent. Even our slumbering Consumer Council awoke and felt it necessary to intervene in the supermarket malarkey. In a laughable statement, Kwok Chun-wah of the Labour Advisory Board commented 'employers and employees are sharing the hardship'. Really Mr Kwok? It's not evident that employers are transferring any of the hardship to senior staff. Instead, the pain falls to the lowest paid. Don't forget that Hong Kong has one of the highest levels of income inequality on the planet, a fact that may have contributed to last year's civil unrest. Any responsible government would be looking to narrow that gap even at such a critical time, especially when you need the low paid to keep us all safe through their diligence. Carrie Lam, our Chief Executive, earns about HK$5- million per annum. Mrs Choi would need to work over 35 years to take home what Carrie Lam makes in a year. I wonder can the government assure us that hard-earned public funds thrown at oligarchs isn't lining the pockets of the top end? Added to that, a system of tendering that encourages a 'race-to-the-bottom', means companies feel the pressure to put in low bids. In the process, they shortchange their workers. In Covid-19's inversion of the status hierarchy, many of the truly 'key workers' turned out not be the bankers, flash-money men or wheeler-dealers, but those who did not go to college or less able to pass exams. One hopes that these folks, whose vitally important jobs we viewed as low status, will enjoy better condition and pay. They also merit our admiration. Our profligate government could adopt various strategies that ensure support reaches the needy. Direct payment to workers on minimum wage is one option, likewise enhanced transport subsidies or special tax concessions. Mrs Choi deserves better, including some dignity for her contribution during this crisis. A fine start would be making sure that handouts land in her pocket. Come on, Carrie Lam, have some common decency! |
AuthorWalter De Havilland was one of the last of the colonial coppers. He served 35 years in the Royal Hong Kong Police and Hong Kong Police Force. He's long retired. Archives
January 2021
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