The Economist December 18th 2021 Holiday specials 7
In the end, Mr Wong instructed his students to
praise the government in their exams. “I think teach
ers and parents in Hong Kong are now struggling with
the same question: how do we teach our children?” he
says. “If I teach my students to be sincere, kind and
honest—important qualities for being a good human
being—then it is difficult to survive in this society.
Now you are rewarded for perpetuating the lies of the
Communist Party.” Mr Wong is applying for a licence to
work as a taxi driver.
Hong Kong’s worldclass universities are under
scrutiny, too. Ip IamChong, a professor of cultural
studies, was denied tenure despite backing from his
department, he believes because of his outspoken sup
port of democracy. But he, his wife and their eight
yearold daughter are staying put. They love Hong
Kong and are attached to friends who share similar val
ues. “My daughter can leave to study or live overseas
when she is older,” he says.
He tells her stories, including about his friends and
students who are in jail. His best friend is Eddie Chu, a
former prodemocracy politician who has been
charged with subversion for taking part in a primary
election. He faces life in prison. “I tell her about what
happened to Eddie, why the police have put him in jail,
whether there is a reason and why people are migrat
ing. I think it is enough to just tell her these stories.
How she understands the situation isn’t something
that we as parents can dictate.”
Other parents are more supportive of the govern
ment. During the protests in 2019, Catherine Lau
bought her son a set of Hong Kong policeforce toys
from Taobao, a Chinese ecommerce site: police dogs,
officers firing teargas and police officers holding up
signs warning against illegal assembly. But Ms Lau
cancelled all play dates, concerned about what conver
sations the toys might provoke: “I wouldn’t have
known what to say to the other mum. We don’t talk
about politics; it is too sensitive.”
Ada Mak, who runs a nursery in southern Hong
Kong, is on a mission to instil a love of the motherland
in her pupils. On the eve of important holidays in Chi
na, the nursery transforms into the stage of a flagrais
ing ceremony. A few chosen students don white gloves
tailored to their tiny hands. They march behind a boy
who holds a small flag in his outstretched arms. The
students stand to attention. The flag is unfurled and
raised on a little pole. Loudspeakers blast the national
anthem: “China has arrived at its most dangerous mo
ment. Everyone must let out one last roar.”
Some parents do not approve of these ceremonies,
Mrs Mak says. And most do not believe her when she
tells them their children’s futures lie in mainland Chi
na. When Britain handed Hong Kong over to China, in
1997, the city’s economy was almost a fifth the size of
the mainland’s. Now it is less than 2.5%.
Once covid19 restrictions lift and the border
reopens between Hong Kong and neighbouring Shen
zhen, Mrs Mak plans to take her parents to see how
quickly China has developed. Shenzhen’s gdp over
took that of Hong Kong for the first time in 2018.
“Around 20% of parents know this is true, 40% are in
utter denial and the remaining 40% haven’t made up
their minds. For the parents who disagree, I just ignore
them. There is no point me wasting my time and ener
gy trying to convince them. I’m focused on changing
the minds of the parents in the middle. They need toShe helped run a picturebook club for her sons and
other children in the neighbourhood, and hundreds of
such books filled several of her boxes. Some were by
Hong Kong or Taiwanese authors, but most were Chi
nese translations of books from around the world. Her
sons loved the Butt Detective and Sherlock Holmes se
ries, but she also read them books about democracy.
One favourite, popular among other parents in Hong
Kong, was “The President of the Jungle”. In it, the ani
mals are fed up with King Lion, who cares only about
himself. So they hold an election and Snake, Sloth and
Monkey decide to run against Lion. To keep the fam
ily’s memories of Hong Kong alive, Mrs Choi planned
to start a Cantonese picturebook group in Britain.
Mrs Choi did not hate China, nor did she want her
boys to do so. But, she said, “I don’t want them to grow
up being forced at school to love the Communist Par
ty.” And the indoctrination had started. New multiple
choice exam questions in primary school asked stu
dents “How do you feel about China?” The only options
were positive. In a government video for primary
school pupils, an animated owl wearing glasses and a
graduation cap warned them about threats such as ter
rorism and hostile foreign powers.
A struggle is under way for the hearts and minds of
Hong Kong’s children. The city’s chief secretary said in
2020, when he was its security secretary, that the gov
ernment’s foremost target was education: “The main
task is to cleanse it of ‘bad apples’ to save the students
from being poisoned.” Teachers are leaving at around
twice the normal rate. According to a survey by the
largest teachers’ union in Hong Kong, over 40% of
teachers said they wanted to quit the profession. Of
those, 70% cited “increased political pressure” as the
main reason. Many teachers know all too well how
successfully China ramped up “patriotic education”
in mainland schools after the Tiananmen Square prot
ests in 1989.
Mrs Choi felt lucky. Her husband’s company had of
fered to transfer him to London, and they both had sib
lings who could look after their elderly parents in
Hong Kong. The future is darker for many of their
friends and other parents who have chosen to stay,
whether because of family ties, the cost of moving, or
their attachment to Hong Kong. Some hope the Chi
nese crackdown will not be that bad; others, more pes
simistic, are still determined to raise their children
with ideas the regime considers so dangerous they are
punishable with life in prison. It is a risky choice.
About 4,000 of the more than 10,000 people arrested
since prodemocracy protests roiled the city in 2019
are highschool and university students. Authors of
prodemocracy picture books have also been jailed,
charged with printing seditious material.
illiberal arts
Since the protests, Hong Kong’s largest teachers’ union
has been forced to close, and the education bureau has
overhauled the curriculum. Liberal studies, a compul
sory highschool subject that encouraged students to
think critically, including about China, has been abol
ished, replaced by a course emphasising China’s
achievements. “In traditional Chinese culture, teach
ers are supposed to be role models,” says one liberal
studies teacher, Jason Wong. “How do I encourage my
students to think critically while teaching them to
obey authority and be loyal to the motherland?”
“Now you are
rewarded for
perpetuating
the lies of the
Communist
Party”