by Paul Theroux
I heard of many examples of this sort of self-censorship. Some months later, Christopher Patten wrote a book based on his experiences as Hong Kong's last governor-general. He had a contract with HarperCollins. His finished manuscript—in which he spoke his mind—was rejected and his contract withdrawn. Behind all this was the figure of Rupert Murdoch, the media tycoon, owner of HarperCollins, who hoped to make a cable-TV deal with China. More kowtowing.
It is clear that if China can intimidate wealthy Western publishing interests that had previously boasted of their commitment to independent thought, there should be no serious problem whipping the people of Hong Kong into shape. In Hong Kong itself, the Chinese authorities (who had promised they would leave the colony to its own system for fifty years) have been loudly criticizing its broadcasting service, RTHK, which is modeled on the BBC and celebrated for its excellent unbiased reporting and its variety of arts programs. A pro-Chinese bureaucrat in Hong Kong slandered RTHK by calling it a "remnant of colonial rule." The chief executive, Tung Chee-hwa, showed considerable sympathy for this view. These ominous noises were drowned out by public opinion in Hong Kong: 90 percent of the people were in favor of keeping broadcasting independent of the government.
But another ominous noise was made in March 1998 by Mr. Tung when he spoke of putting off the date for democratic elections. Everyone agrees that universal suffrage, as practiced in Malawi and Mozambique, is a long way off. The Hong Kong stock market has fared pretty badly; the Hang Seng index has Men. There has been a dramatic slide in property values. Tourists, who went to Hong Kong to get a glimpse of the colony wrapped in the Union Jack, have been less eager to visit it as a Chinese Special Administrative Region. It is now one of the most expensive cities in the world. It has ceased to be a sweatshop. It was always a Chinese city in an ethnic sense; it is more and more Chinese in a political sense, but less a horror than a bore.
"Albion Cottage" still exists on the Peak, under another name—a friend of mine lives in it. After I finished the novel, I went back to Hong Kong and saw this friend and said, "By the way, I put your house in my novel." She laughed sadly and told me that she had just been asked to vacate it. It is on valuable land; the cottage will soon be torn down. A tall apartment block is scheduled to be built where Betty and Bunt had tea, with their backs turned to China.
APRIL 1998
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