【SHARED】Wang Hao Yu | Taiwanese journalist reporting in Hong Kong - "They are not a bunch of numbers. Each and every one of them is a person, very much alive."

Wang Hao Yu, Formosa TV journalist, reporting in Hong Kong from August to September

During the Sunflower Movement* in Taiwan, we didn’t agree with the illegal tactics the student protestors used, until we somewhat understood what civil disobedience is. Since then, we have found their persistence in protesting at all costs really admirable.
— Wang Hao Yu

Journalist: Wang Hao Yu

Photographer: KC

Cover photo provided by Wang Hao Yu himself.

One day during my holiday, I suddenly got a message saying that I would be sent to Hong Kong, and I should be mentally prepared for a long stay.

Before that, when I was watching the news from Hong Kong, I did imagine: if one day I were to cover the news in Hong Kong, what would it be like? I just thought my chances of being deployed there were not that high, after all I was not very experienced. Therefore I am thankful to the company for handing me this mission.

Although I was going with an almost-military-grade gas mask, perhaps I hadn’t thoroughly understood what Hong Kong is going through, I thought my friends were joking when they called me a war correspondent several days before I left. Not until the third or fourth day of my stay, while tear gas showering down the street on both days on a weekend, fleeing as I held onto the side of the bridge with the stinging burn to my skin, witnessing first-hand the sparks of gunshots from the police nearby, the echoes of gunshots lingering in my ears, Raptors (the Special Tactical Squad) rushing to the front and shoving people to the ground, water cannon truck firing in short range to disperse the crowd — when I suddenly realised, this is a real war between the police and civilians, and we can indeed be regarded as war correspondents.

A week later, the same show was put on at a different place like a reincarnation. The same enormous size of the crowd, the same slogans, and what’s also the same - the menacing atmosphere that engulfed the streets in the blink of an eye two or three hours after the peaceful march, as if there was a time swap, or a quick change of scenes when lights dim in the theatre. The bullets were not yet loaded but the air was already filled with intense smell of smoke.

Each weekend, as I put on my contact lenses, making sure I had all the gears with me, I would close the door of my room, and think to myself in a feeble, silent deep breath, “after I walk out of this door, can I come back tonight safely without a scratch?” We all know safety comes first, but under such circumstances, a lot of things cannot be guaranteed. In fact, breathing in tear gas, having runny noses and watery eyes are relatively mild, and even considered fortunate.

Keeping ourselves safe is one of our responsibilities. The job of a journalist is to spread the news, and that can only be accomplished when we are safe, but even though we had been very careful, we couldn’t resist the police as they saw everyone on-site as enemies.

During the Sunflower Movement* in Taiwan, we didn’t agree with the illegal tactics the student protestors used, until we somewhat understood what civil disobedience is. Since then, we have found their persistence in protesting at all costs really admirable. However, this time in Hong Kong (not necessarily comparing the two movements, but these two events are more related to my life experience), I had to ask myself again, if they could choose to have an easy and happy summer holiday, why would the youngsters in Hong Kong put their lives on the line? If they are the typical Hong Kong people who, in foreigners’ eyes, value the economy above all, why aren’t they busy making money, but putting off everything in the weekend to protest on the streets? (Let alone the rumours of paid protesters, don’t you think the Red Capital** has more cash to employ more people to the streets?)

Numbers are dead, no matter a hundred thousand, a million, or two million plus one, the people on the streets are not just a number, they are each a human being with blood and tears.

This person could be a first aid volunteer, their job was to take care of the injured. This injured person might not be a protester who stood against the government, but a “blue ribbon” (police supporter). Yet these first aid volunteers also faced police brutality.

This person could be a common housewife who has a son in secondary school. During the day she would do groceries in the market, cook in a less-than-2-meter-squared kitchen, and wait for the kid to come home. And then one day, she “affectionately” yelled at the police on the street, but in return was sprayed with spiced pepper spray water. “Hongkongers had no other choice,'' she said.

This person could be an ordinary civil servant. They worked for the government in the day, then put on a mask as they get off work, but the mask only covered their face, not their conscience. After being tear gassed in a clearance operation by the police, due to high exposure to harmful chemicals, they had rashes on their skin that did not subside even after 3 months.

This person could be a typical businessman, yet they risked losing their business and being arrested just to protect the students.

There are many Hes and Shes. A flight attendant who left their job and now awaiting work again, purchased supplies and multiple topped up Octopus card out of their pocket, and distributed them; a taxi driver who joined a secret group on social media to give free rides to protesters who had no means of going home after the protests; an owner of a cha chaan teng*** who was not in good health, but still would give out free meal coupons to the starving students who ran out of cash. The Hes and Shes would say, economic problems could be improved in the future; but political problems are irreversible. Money could be earned later, but everything would be lost without freedom.

On the day of mid-Autumn festival, Mr Lee, on his way to buy mooncakes, said that the youngsters nowadays are taking bullets for them because his generation did not put in enough effort. He sobbed. There was a limping 70-year-old lady who couldn’t keep up the pace, but insisted on going to the streets. She said she hasn’t gone out for more than two months, and she felt very guilty for that. Another silver-haired lady sat in Chater Garden in Central, listening to the crowd singing “Glory to Hong Kong”; she took her sunglasses off, and silently swept away her tears. Her tears weren’t dried as we were leaving after the interview, and she said to us in an earnest, solemn yet hopeful tone, “Taiwan must fight on.”

They are not a bunch of numbers. Each and every one of them is a person, very much alive.

Many people were forced to grow up overnight.

If you could only see a group of rioters lighting up fires everywhere, you might as well think about this: what they are sacrificing isn’t the harmony of the society, but their lives that are about to bloom.

According to a survey conducted by the Chinese University of Hong Kong, the protesters’ acceptance and understanding of radical behaviours rose from 36.7% in June to 76.4% in August as the Hong Kong government did not concede. The conflicts between the ‘valiants’ (frontliners) and ‘PRNs’ (non-violent protesters) are getting resolved, they become a family, who don’t sever ties, and put the idea of ‘come together and leave together’ into practice.

Whether radical measures could make the government give in is not just a yes-or-no question, but an unfinished exam paper between the Hong Kong citizens and the government.

Carrie Lam officially announced the withdrawal of the Extradition Bill amendment. Let alone the other three demands, that one demand about a genuine dual universal suffrage would be impossible to be fulfilled in the short term. Why do they still insist on ‘five demands, not one less’? I asked the spokesperson of the Civil Human Rights Front (the organiser of large peace rallies). He said that, initially the fifth demand wasn’t universal suffrage, but for Carrie Lam to resign. Yet ultimately, Carrie Lam stepping down will only make a superficial change and merely targeting the symptoms not the cause. If there is no universal suffrage, even if she resigned today, there would be many other Carrie Lams filling in the position, and these kinds of laws like the extradition bill would still come up again.

To Hong Kong people, the promise of having a ‘high degree of autonomy under one country, two systems’ has eventually turned out to be a bad cheque due to Beijing’s lack of confidence in itself. One cannot simply say, “if only we didn’t set 50 years from the beginning.” It is because of Hong Kong’s history and her particularly special economic status in China and even on the international stage. Asking the US government to pass the Human Rights and Democracy Act is absolutely not out of the blue as if they were just finding a random big brother figure for support.

The movement of Anti-extradition law amendment bill has escalated for more than a hundred days. There is a Hongkonger logic behind many actions and behaviours.

That includes the series of destruction done to the Mass Transit Railway (MTR), which is not trusted by the protesters anymore.

From the perspective of rule of law, this is of course not acceptable. However, just like the government who wants to perpetually characterise the movement as a social incident, it is trying to hide a political disaster.

As to the disaster of MTR, the turning point was the closure of multiple stations during protests.

For instance, if, during the rally on the Ketagalan Boulevard, the Taipei Metro closed down the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall, Xiaonanmen and Ximen stations, and on the road there were traffic control to block the protesters, who have their natural rights to assembly, from reaching the destination. This is nothing, just a few kilometers of rally. Everyone could go on the streets every week without being afraid.

However when you realise that there were riot police inside the operating train that had refused to let passengers in, and another large group of riot police resting inside the train station with gates half-closed, it is not hard to conjecture whom the MTR is really serving.

People’s trust in the MTR is lost bit by bit. The last straw that broke the camel’s back was the time when police staged the Hong Kong version of Train to Busan in real life. That is the origin of the slogan “21 July, disappeared; 31 August, beating people to death.” This is also the people’s condemnation of the police and MTR.

Before leaving Hong Kong, I had a dinner with reporters from a local broadcast station. I said I could not imagine these kinds of things happening in the Taipei Metro. She said Hongkongers would not have imagined such things before, yet it happened. She asked me, “is it because Taiwanese could choose their own president that these things would not happen?” Although I mentioned the Sunflower Movement, I couldn’t answer her question. I thought about that a bit more, indeed it was due to direct elections of our president, the push from the opposition party, the supervision by public opinion, and the relatively high degree of freedom of speech and press; it was due to genuine democracy that can put pressure on the ruling party, that we have more choices compared with Hong Kong. Since we have the right to choose, Taiwan has more chances of avoiding such incidents to lessen the risks of the collapse of society.

There is too much that I’d like to say from this trip to Hong Kong. As a 30-year-old, I experienced a lot and grew quite a bit from this one-month journey.

My summer camp has ended. But Hongkongers’ summer camp hasn’t.


*Sunflower Movement: The 2014 Sunflower Student Movement refers to the protest movement driven by students and civic groups in Taiwan.

**Red Capital: Capital / financial input from the Communist Party

***Cha chaan teng: Hong Kong-style diner/cafe

Original article: https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10217755430470722&id=1629949233