Hong Kong’s Unhealthy Relationship With the Mainland

As a deadly strain of pneumonia continues its rampage through this special administrative region of China, it is not only creating a public health crisis but casting new light on the island’s uneasy relationship with the motherland.

When this former British colony reverted to Chinese rule in 1997, its people worried about keeping a safe distance from the Communist mainland. They counted on the “one country, two systems” principle to insulate their freedom and wealth from China’s lack of those things.

Then the Asian financial crisis hit, and suddenly Hong Kong was clamoring for an increasingly prosperous China to rescue its economy. Millions of mainland tourists -- and their money -- poured into the territory. In return, savvy Hong Kong businessmen crossed into China to invest in its burgeoning economy. This year the island threw open its borders with neighboring Guangdong province so it could welcome visitors 24 hours a day.

But since a Guangdong doctor brought severe acute respiratory syndrome, or SARS, to a Hong Kong hotel -- where he infected tourists who then sickened other people around the world -- the island’s open-door policy has seemed to fall apart.

And according to some critics, the reason is not too much interaction with China, but too little.

“The problem is, you can’t just open the borders, send in more tourists and have integration. You’ve got to have communication and cooperation in policy and decision-making,” said Michael DeGolyer, director of the Hong Kong Transition Project, a nonpartisan group of professors and other public policy experts.

Within the “one country, two systems” framework, however, that level of contact has been deliberately kept to a minimum, mostly to protect Hong Kong’s political independence. The territory deals directly with Beijing, not with its provincial neighbors.

The problem is, local leaders throughout China have little incentive to report damaging information to the central government.

So when SARS hit Guangdong back in November, nearby Hong Kong did not find out until it was too late.

Even though contagious diseases know no borders, the nation’s closed political system allowed authorities to quash the bad news, which they considered a state secret. To avoid social instability and an exodus of investors, they ordered a media blackout and refused to share information with the World Health Organization until growing international pressure and a possible pandemic forced them to relent.

Even now, some doctors in Beijing say the infection rate in the Chinese capital is far higher than what official reports say, and that’s sparked fears that the virus is not as under control as authorities claim.

Hong Kong remains an open society with a free press. But instead of working with China to attack a common medical enemy as soon as possible, the Beijing-appointed Hong Kong administration fumbled in denial and inaction, turning the fast-moving epidemic into a political disaster.

“This crisis proves once more the government is not fully competent,” said Anthony Cheung, a professor of public administration at the City University of Hong Kong. “In the early stages, the government tried to play down the seriousness of the problem. If the virus were indeed contained, then there would be no crisis. But the opposite happened. You have this backlash, and people no longer trust the government.”

Indeed, the credibility of the unfortunately named SAR administration (for special administration region) has tumbled to what may be an all-time low. Many residents even fell for an April Fools’ hoax that claimed the entire region was about to be quarantined. That unleashed a run on grocery stores, much the way news of the virus in Guangdong led people there -- who have little access to reliable information -- to empty shops selling home remedies against SARS.

“Hong Kong people have no confidence at all in our government,” said Martin Lee, a legislator and founder of Hong Kong’s Democratic Party. “Transparency in government is a must for our continued survival and prosperity. But how can you have transparency when there is no democracy?”

Since Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa was not popularly elected, his career may not suffer. The same cannot be said of Hong Kong’s ailing economy and bruised international image. Tourists and consumers have been voting with their feet. Flights to and from the port city have all but ground to a halt. Formerly busy hotels stand empty. This densely populated financial hub has morphed into a ghost town.

Until now, China had been one of the few bright spots in a globally depressed economy. But analysts believe the negative effect of SARS on Asia may turn out to be far greater than that from the war in Iraq. Already, they have significantly downgraded growth forecasts for the region. Recovery will depend largely on the arc of the epidemic, which apparently has yet to peak.

An overwhelmed Hong Kong hospital system is bracing for as many as 3,000 cases by the end of this month. On Tuesday, 45 more people fell ill and an additional two died, increasing the infected population to 928, pushing the death toll to 25 and making this by far the worst-hit city on Earth.

Worldwide, the virus has now struck about 2,800 people and killed more than 100 in more than a dozen countries.

Officials here are now looking into the possibility that cockroaches might have spread the disease through Hong Kong’s famously cramped apartment blocks.

While anger against the mainland for withholding critical information has prompted some to call for the closing of borders and reduced interaction, others argue that it’s too late to turn back. Both sides clearly need to broaden their interpretation of globalization and understand the danger of focusing only on its economic benefits.

“Not enough attention has been given to exchanges of cooperation in areas that are not strictly economic. Health is now the example,” Cheung said. “There must be a corresponding level of contact and interaction between the authorities of Hong Kong and the mainland. That means going beyond just talking to the central government. We’ve got to talk to the local government as well.”

Ultimately, that might mean a reinterpretation of the “one country, two systems” idea, which was promulgated more than two decades ago when most Chinese could not yet afford to travel or engage in foreign trade, and Hong Kong needed barriers, not bridges, to protect its interests.

“This is going to be an extremely costly lesson,” DeGolyer said. “The economic impact is going to be considerable. They say money talks. In this case, money is screaming. You’ve got to fix it.”