Bulldozers Threaten ‘Sacred’ Palm Tree

Ma Yuk-lan calls her date palm a blessed tree and says it’s a miracle that the sapling her husband brought back from Mecca in 1953 has thrived in Hong Kong.

But while nature has been kind to the tree, Hong Kong’s bureaucracy has not, and Ma may be about to lose her 29-year battle to keep it from being removed to make way for road construction.

“Allah bestowed it on us,” said Ma, 69, weeping as she told the story of the tree that has grown twice as tall as her two-story home near the mainland Chinese border.

“If they kill the tree, they may as well kill me. I don’t want to live if I can’t protect it from harm,” Ma said.

The date palm blossoms each April with yellow flowers, and during the summer, fruit falls from the tree.

The palm’s food--and shade--can be lifesaving in the harsh Saudi desert, and Saudi Arabia has incorporated the palm as a national symbol. In subtropical Hong Kong, date palms are a rare sight. A government engineer, Fun Yat-fu, said he knows of just two.

Muslim clerics here say the trees aren’t sacred but there are many important references to them in the Islamic faith. The prophet Muhammad ate dates to quell his hunger pangs, and he also handed out the nutritious fruit to his followers, said Cheung Kwong-yee, a retired senior imam.

During Islam’s holy month of Ramadan, Muslims often eat dates to break their daytime fasts after sunset, and many bring dates back from pilgrimages to Mecca, Cheung said.

Instead of bringing back dates, Ma’s husband, Ai Pok-tak--an imam who died seven years ago--brought eight palm saplings from Mecca. Just one survived.

Tree Strengthens Family’s Faith

The family comes from Gansu province, which has a large number of Muslims, but fled to Hong Kong in 1949--the year Mao Tse-tung’s communists took control of mainland China.

When the date palm began growing, it bolstered their faith, and after efforts to plant more of the trees failed, it seemed all the more sacred to Ai, Ma and their three sons and daughter.

But Hong Kong’s development became a threat. Ma had to tangle with colonial British authorities who wanted to knock down the tree in 1972 to make way for a road.

She still recalls the day Sir David Akers-Jones, then Hong Kong’s chief secretary for administration, put on his waterproof Wellington boots and ventured into rural Hong Kong to look at the tree.

“We were in tears when we asked him to change the route by moving the road slightly to the other side,” Ma said. “He told us he’d have a word with the engineers. The Western officials then were very sympathetic.

“He called back later to tell us not to worry and that we could keep the tree.”

After Hong Kong reverted to Chinese sovereignty in 1997, the new administration told Ma the tree would have to go so the road could be widened. Ma has been struggling through a bureaucratic maze since, trying to find some way to save the tree.

The government has set a June deadline for removing the palm, saying it has to be replanted in a public park or cut down.

Ma tried everything, including a written plea to Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa asking the government to move her tree to a spot behind her house. She asked the landlord about moving the tree, but he is not sure he can get permission from members of his clan.

She’s praying for another miracle and says nature has been helping the tree in the meantime.

‘Shadow Trees’ Bolster Palm

Five years ago, two smaller trees, known locally as “shadow trees,” grew around the lower trunk, embracing the palm like a pair of guardian angels, Ma said.

“They just grew out of nowhere one day,” Ma said. “The palm tree used to sway when typhoons came, but it is much firmer now with the protection of the two smaller trees. I believe it is Allah’s wish to safeguard this holy tree.”

Ironically, the former Hong Kong official who first saved the palm is confronting his own problems with construction crews and beloved trees.

Akers-Jones is about to see his two-story seaside villa demolished to make way for road work in another part of Hong Kong. He said he is heartbroken that a half-century-old banyan tree will be killed --it’s too huge to move--but his other trees will be relocated to a public park.