Before the government cleared the Umbrella Movement’s occupation site on 12 December 2014, a slogan appeared on the Lennon Wall in Admiralty: “You may find it disappointing, but don’t feel hopeless” (就算失望, 不能絕望). This phrase, taken from the song Stubborn (倔強) by Taiwanese band Mayday (五月天), became a rallying cry for resilience. Ironically, the group later faced criticism for allegedly succumbing to political pressure or financial incentives by affirming their Chinese identity during a concert in China in 2024.
Now, a decade after the Umbrella Movement and five years since the anti-extradition movement, the question lingers: how “stubborn” are Hong Kongers today? A recent debate erupted after a comment by Taiwanese literary magazine Wenhsun (文訊) mocked young Hong Kongers who stayed behind as having been “tamed” (馴化). This remark sparked intense discussion among writers about whether the National Security Law and the implementation of Article 23 of the Basic Law had obliterated the rule of law, freedom of speech and the public’s resolve to fight for democracy.
As a matter of fact, the once-vibrant “city of protest” no longer witnesses political rallies, and social media is largely devoid of political discourse. Instead, many Hong Kongers embrace cross-border trips to the Greater Bay Area for leisure and consumption, apparently reflecting a stark shift in attitudes.
This idea of a “tamed” Hong Kong aligns with the pervasive “Hong Kong is dead” narrative adopted by foreign media and members of the Hong Kong diaspora. For many who left, exile is the only way to preserve the “Hong Kong spirit”. Without freedom of speech or the right to dissent, the city, as renowned director Johnnie To Kei-fung lamented, has “lost its very soul”. Diaspora groups have sought to rebuild Hong Kong’s essence abroad, fostering communities that sustain the city’s core values and culture. In their view, those remaining in Hong Kong cannot fully embody what it means to be a true Hong Konger.
While the notion of Hong Kong’s death is not unfounded, it remains deeply disheartening to many locals. They acknowledge the severe blows inflicted on civil society, with organizations dissolved and pro-democracy activists arrested under dubious charges. They are frustrated by a judiciary that appears to comply with the new regime and by officials that fail to uphold Hong Kong’s status as an international financial hub. Yet, this does not mean Hong Kong is irrevocably doomed. Amid repression, many continue striving to uphold dignity and resilience.
Courageous figures such as Tonyee Chow Hang-tung, Gwyneth Ho Kwai-lam and Jimmy Lai have transformed courtrooms into platforms to defend human rights, particularly freedoms of speech and assembly. Even as liberal media such as Apple Daily and Stand News have been shuttered, small independent outlets persist, providing detailed coverage of dissidents’ trials.
Public solidarity remains strong. Each morning, people queue outside courthouses for trial admission tickets, showing support for those accused of participating in the 2019 “riots” or National Security Law-defined subversion. When convictions are handed down, some chase prison vans to bid the defendants farewell, while others write letters to political prisoners or visit them regularly. This collective empathy has birthed a “community of suffering”, weaving the moral fabric to sustain hope and conviction.
Independent bookshops defy intimidation by selling critical works and hosting salons for intellectual exchange. These venues also organize workshops on literature and philosophy, fostering communities in which meaningful discussion thrives. Pro-democracy citizens find solace and solidarity in non-political activities such as hiking and running, sustaining their spirits in what has become a long journey toward freedom.
On symbolic dates like June 4, some brave individuals quietly honor past sacrifices, laying flowers in Causeway Bay or other locations. For the majority, such public acts are too risky. Instead, everyday acts of resistance emerge: patronizing pro-democracy cafes or shops, remaining stoic during mandated lessons on national security or engaging in what might be called “collective inaction”. The sharp drop in voter turnout for the District Council elections—from 71% in 2019 to a historic low of 27.5% in 2023—was widely seen as a silent yet powerful protest against government overreach.
Thus, while it is tempting to declare that “Hong Kong is dead”, such a conclusion requires nuance. Institutionally, the city has indeed suffered devastating losses in the rule of law, free speech and governance. However, ideologically, the spirit of liberty, justice and benevolence endures. Although caged, the hearts and minds of many Hong Kongers remain untamed.
